Untouched: The Persistence of Loss

Written by Venerate

With Teeth: Part II

His lungs were burning, his eyes half-closed in an attempt to keep away tears. He was ready to fall into a pile of limbs, but too stubborn to let it happen. Instead, he tried to speed up, take longer steps, moving his entire body as if trying to run faster.

He was often praised for his speed. He knew that he was fast – faster than many in his own age. Although he knew that he didn't need to get any faster, he would never stop trying. It was an incredible feeling, to run so fast, so fast that you would be aching for days. It had taken him a lot to get where he was today, a lot of training.

His strong legs carried him a few hundred meters further, but then he had to slow down. He had yet to turn dizzy, but knew better than to continue from this point. He had to catch his breath if he wanted to get home as well. Leaning against a tall apartment building, he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He could practically see the sunshine through his eyelids.

This area was very familiar to him. He jogged here a few times a week; it took about half an hour in his speed. First, he had to get out of the Uchiha Compound, and then through the fancy part of the city where the Uchiha Compound was located. After those twenty minutes, he ran on the sidewalk in the outskirts of the city. Here were apartment buildings and normal-sized houses. Most were well-kept, nice. The further away he ran, the worse the neighbourhoods became.

Therefore, he always stopped here, where it was clean and clear from criminals. Here, families and children played on the streets. If he went further north, there would be only homeless and druggies on the street. If he ran south again, there would be empty streets – rich people had better things to do than watch their children play on the street; and if a child was spotted playing on the street, the family would move out of time the next day in shame.

What a dysfunctional world they lived in.

Sasuke took a deep breath, opening his eyes to stretch. As he stretched, he watched the people around him. He could see the park from here. He had never been there, but was sure that it was as lovely as it looked. He had great eyesight, and could see the dogs and kids running around, parents sitting on the park benches. As young, he had only been to a park a few times with Itachi and their mother.

Deeming himself ready to jog home, he gave the park a last look before running. One day, he would run through the park – like he had seen others do – and see it up close.

"Sasuke?"

Sasuke almost flinched in surprise as someone – his father – knocked on his door. He hadn't known that there had been someone at home. He had hoped that he would be all alone, so that he could paint or draw after showering. The strong image in his head had yet to disappear or fade – the urge to make that image into art almost made him go crazy.

"Yes?" Hopefully, they wouldn't bother him if they knew that he was there.

"I'm taking Itachi with me to the office. We'll be home late."

"Yes, sir," Sasuke answered, relived to hear that he would soon be left to himself.

Fugaku's dark eyes studied him, waiting for something that never came. "If your aunt steps by with Itachi's allergy pills; make sure to thank her properly."

"Yes, sir."

Sasuke stood completely still, listening as his father's steps faded away. Once he couldn't hear Fugaku, he started to undress. He tried to ignore how stuffed his dustbin was, and how the papers now littered the floor. What bothered him the most was that not a single one was even close to finished. He hated unfinished work.

He threw his clothes on the floor, knowing that he would pick it all up later and be frustrated with himself because of the mess he made. He walked naked through his room, opening the door to his bathroom. It was a nice bathroom – clean, impersonal. Not like his room, that was filled with both empty and painted canvases, littered with sculptures and other kinds of art.

Here, he could escape those pictures in his head.

Later, after an hour or so, Sasuke found himself in his room again. He was sitting in his bed, his new computer in his lap and a half-eaten apple in his hand. He licked his lips, swallowing what he had in his mouth. His fingers moved quickly over the keys, his eyes on the screen all time.

On the screen were pictures. Photographs, taken by a female named Uzumaki Kushina. He had no clue who she was. However, her site was very well organised, Sasuke had to say. Everything was sorted by years, then by months, and after that, by date. There were pictures of Namikaze Naruto, all beautiful and captivating. Moving and sweating.

He guessed that she was some kind of photographer, hired by Naruto's ballet company or something. Perhaps a relative to the manager, or maybe the trainer. Sometimes, there were short texts to the pictures, describing where the picture was taken.

Most photographs looked professional, and the motives were Naruto dancing, performing or training. Always smiling, always a determined gleam in his eyes. Then there were photos of Naruto stretching, Naruto eating something, Naruto in sweatpants and sweatshirt walking out from the changing room.

Those pictures made Sasuke feel uneasy.

Yet, it was impossible to exit the site. A mental block prevented him from even thinking of closing the page.

The photographs made Sasuke feel very unattractive – like a blob of fat, clumsy and left behind. As if he was missing out on something. A part of him wanted to befriend this blond beauty – that way, he would be able to hear everything that the other people in Naruto's presence got to hear. These feelings, new to him, were what made him feel uneasy.

"What are you doing?"

Sasuke dropped his half-eaten apple on the floor with a soft 'chunk'. He looked up from the screen, surprised to see his brother there. "Nothing," he replied as calmly as he could. He quickly closed the laptop, putting it on his bedside table.

"Really," Itachi commented lowly as he sat down by Sasuke's desk. "What are these?"

Sasuke was up from his bed in an instant, but not fast enough. His brother had already picked one of the many papers up, unfolding it. Sasuke froze, wondering what horrible thing his brother would do next. Itachi stared at the drawing, narrowing his beautiful eyes for a moment. Sasuke couldn't breathe.

Itachi was smirking when he looked up at his little brother. "Pretty, little brother. Really pretty."

Sasuke's heart skipped a beat at the compliment.

"Yet, this looks nothing like the model at all. Worthless, in other words. It looks as if father is right – you really should stick to your landscapes. There would be no fame for you if you kept drawing shit like this."

Sasuke couldn't breathe. His throat felt unbelievably dry, his fingers cold as ice.

"Dearest Sasuke-kun..." Itachi stood up, letting the paper return to the littered floor, where it immediately blended in. "Perhaps this art-thing never was meant for you. Perhaps you should find something else to fill your pathetic future with. You're good at soccer, aren't you?"

Sasuke closed his eyes, hoping that Itachi would just turn around and leave. He tried to suck in as much air as he could, but it wasn't enough.

"Don't worry, Sasuke-kun," Itachi said smoothly. One of his cold hands came up to caress Sasuke's cheek. "I'll tell father that you're having doubts with your doodling. If I play my cards right, they'll let you focus on your soccer instead."

Sasuke scowled, letting out a dark, "no."

"Yes. Let your big brother handle this for you."

There were plenty of things Itachi could do to torture his little brother. It really was too easy to rile up Sasuke. The youngest Uchiha got upset by merely being in the same room as his older brother for too long. This made it exceptionally easy for Itachi to toy with his baby brother.

One day, he could take all of Sasuke's drawing material – pens and pencils, sketchbooks and tablets – hide them in the garage and just wait until the young fool noticed. That would have Sasuke angry for days. Another thing Itachi had done was to erase everything – every file, all internet history, and every picture – on Sasuke's computer. After that, Itachi had been given weeks of silence.

It really was peaceful when Sasuke avoided him.

The days went, but the image of Namikaze Naruto was still fresh in his mind. The same routine as always had been, but that couldn't stop his newfound obsession. Whenever he held a pen or pencil, his hand would itch – to try, try and try again to put those images on paper. Yet, he failed each time.

Even though he had never really talked to this blond danseur – only seen pictures on that website, only seen that one performance – he was starting to get annoyed. Even though it was unfair and irrational, Sasuke was beginning to become really angry.

His mood didn't improve at all when his father approached him and said that it was okay if Sasuke wanted to take a small break – the keyword being small – from his art courses. Hoping that this would take some weight off of his chest, Sasuke foolishly accepted the break.

Immediately after Sasuke had shown his approval, Fugaku had told him that he had soccer practice after all schooldays from now on.

Life was against him, Sasuke decided, lying in his bed and trying to fall asleep. He was feeling restless, wondering what Itachi actually had said to his father and thinking about the impossible task of drawing Naruto. It felt slightly wrong to think of the blond ballet dancer as 'Naruto' – too personal. Somehow... intimate.

In the dark, Sasuke sighed. The house was not as quiet as one would have imagined it to be at eleven in the evening. He could hear the sound of the TV coming from his parents' bedroom, indicating that his parents had yet to fall asleep. They were probably watching the news, perhaps a stupid movie or maybe a documentary. Dull tones came from downstairs, and Sasuke knew that it was Itachi playing on the piano. Practicing, perfecting.

Still feeling awake and restless, Sasuke reached for his laptop on the bedside table. He sat up slightly, pushing the start-button. It awoke with a soft hum, blue light shimmering in his dark room. His long fingers tapped against the keys unconsciously, feeling as if there was something he had forgotten to do or something important that he should do.

Seconds later, he found himself staring at the familiar website of Uzumaki Kushina. Something stirred inside of him – it wasn't unfamiliar, as he had been feeling this every time he entered the website. A thrill running through him, feeling dirty as he clicked on one of the links that led to a video.

He inhaled sharply as the video started. There was no sound to the video, but it wasn't needed for what the main character was doing. Completely unaware of the video camera's existence, Namikaze Naruto was stretching in a dance studio. He was surrounded by mirrors, but too caught up with stretching properly to even notice the camera man's presence. Sasuke got a glint of long, red hair and a crouching woman in the mirrors, seeing her smiling as she filmed the blond boy.

Naruto was sitting on the ground, clad in black tights and a grey, faded t-shirt that was one or two sizes to small. Tan, smooth skin peeked forward between the grey and the black, revealing toned muscles. His long legs were straight before him as he leaned forward to reach his feet, which he did with ease. The blond made it look easy, but Sasuke didn't doubt for a second that it hurt. Naruto moved without difficulty, showing off his flexibility by stretching, pulling and bending.

Sasuke liked it when Naruto bent over.

Automatically, unconsciously, one of his big hands trailed downwards. A finger brushing against his clothed nipple. In under the covers, passing the laptop on his flat stomach. His eyes never left the screen, watching the video replay over and over again. His throat became dry, and he felt slightly light-headed. That didn't stop his hand from sneaking into his boxers, though.

"Mmh-aahh..."

His hand was soon damp from precum, which meant that he wouldn't have to bring his hand back up and spit on it. His eyes almost closed when his long fingers encircled his leaking shaft. It felt so good. Keeping a small grunt to himself, he moved up and down, his eyes once again concentrated on what was happening on his computer screen.

Naruto put one of his lean legs on the rail by the mirror wall, leaning forward beautifully. The focussed look on Naruto's face made Sasuke wonder if the ballerino was this dedicated to everything he did. If the teen would carry the same expression as he sucked Sasuke off. Sasuke's wet thumb ran over his leaking slit, making him gasp.

"Aah..." Sasuke bit his lip, trying to keep quiet even if no one was even near his room. He tightened his grip, fastening his pace as Naruto bent over to reach the floor with his back to the camera. Sasuke jerked, bucking his hips up as he moved over his hand. "Naruto..."

That cute ass against his crotch; those slender fingers running through his hair and down his neck; that pink tongue running over his nipples. Oh, yes, Naruto. He jerked his hand faster, his grip becoming tighter as his muscles tensed up. It felt good, great and beyond that; it was almost unbearable when he thought of a wet tongue and warm flesh.

He closed his eyes for a while, Naruto's lithe body under his eyelids, before he arched upwards, causing his computer to move with him. Exhaling air that his lungs didn't have, Sasuke came over his abs and fingers.

It took him quite some time before he used his clean hand to put away his laptop. He guessed that he could have made it – the pleasure – last longer, experimented a little more; but he found that even this four-minute masturbation had done wonders to his restless body.

He allowed himself to relax, pretending not to notice the guilt that whispered in his ear. How dirty wasn't that – jerking off while watching a complete stranger stretching?

Reassuring himself softly, thinking, I'm probably not the only one, he got out of bed to wash his hand.

As he put his hands under the hot water, the soap in his hands foaming, he couldn't help but glance in the mirror. He saw nothing but the usual – pale skin, dark eyes, slightly tousled hair. He knew that this wasn't the right time to stare into the mirror, as he wasn't very hot when he was tired.

He wondered what type of guys Naruto was drawn to, if he was drawn to the male gender at all. Still, with that body – those long legs, that cute butt and those lanky arms – he would make any girlfriend jealous. Therefore, Sasuke had once again used his very own logic as to why Naruto just had to be homosexual.

Would Naruto find him attractive? Perhaps Naruto was attracted to someone more like himself. Someone bright and happy; someone that matched his personality? From what Sasuke had gathered from that website, Naruto was very energetic and stubborn. Of course Naruto would need someone with the same mindset.

Then again, Sasuke's Godlike looks could always make up for it.

Snorting to himself, Sasuke turned off the water and dried his hands. He turned off the lights and went to bed, feeling satisfied. He couldn't say that he masturbated a lot, but he knew himself well enough to know what ticked his body off.

Naruto...

Sasuke's hands were red as he made it to the showers. He had been working out at the school's gym, his body hot and sticky with sweat. As he took off his shirt and shorts, he was thinking of tomorrow. Saturday, his day off from everything.

No school, no art classes, no soccer practice.

Strangely, he couldn't help but think that he would be bored out of his mind. Itachi wouldn't be at home, nor would his parents, and so he would be all alone to do absolutely nothing. A depressing thought, to be useless.

"Yo, Uchiha!"

Sasuke looked up, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously. His lips formed a thin line, but he nodded his greetings to his teammates. Kiba, Shino and Shikamaru moved into the locker room. The latter was looking as if he had been sitting still the entire gym pass, which probably was the case. Kiba was practically drenched in sweat, much like Sasuke himself.

"What you up to tomorrow? Heard from some chick that you don't do that pussy-ass drawing anymore."

Sasuke glared at the brown-haired nuisance. "I'm not taking any courses at the moment if that's what you mean, Inuzuka."

"Yeah." Kiba undressed clumsily, throwing his clothes everywhere. "So you free?"

Sasuke, unsure what to say to the moron, nodded discreetly. Hopefully, Kiba would miss it and think that he was ignored. Of course, Lady Luck had never liked him very much.

"Nice – I've got some movies we wanna watch. Your place? Bet you have, like, a mini-theatre at your place or something."

Sasuke opened his mouth to protest, but realised that he would gain nothing from lying. The cinema that had replaced one of the guest rooms in the mansionwas almost never used, but he guessed that Kiba expected it from him. Sasuke didn't mind either – that way, he would have a reason for not sitting close to the dog-loving brunet in a couch.

As he made his way into the showers, he was accompanied by Shikamaru and Shino – as Kiba was still struggling with getting out of his clothes. "Oi, Nara," Sasuke spoke lowly. The brown-haired genius looked up, blinking lazily. "Make sure that you don't show up too early."

Instead of asking why they couldn't come 'too early', Shikamaru nodded once and entered one of the booths. Sasuke was relieved, because he couldn't exactly say that he wanted to spend the morning trying to draw Namikaze Naruto – a boy he had only seen on stage and on pictures.

Sasuke snorted quietly to himself, wondering when he had become so fanatical.

As if having been awakened by cold water, Sasuke flinched at the sound of someone knocking on the door. He had taken his pen and papers downstairs, to the kitchen, so that he would hear when his teammates arrived. The big kitchen was next to the hall, and so he got down from the bar stool to open the door.

Kiba practically pushed himself inside, forcing Sasuke out of the way with his wet body. "It's freaking pouring out there!"

Sasuke blinked, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms over his chest. "I can tell," he responded impassively.

Kiba ignored his comment, and instead got out of his soaked jacket and sneakers. Right behind him, Shikamaru and Chouji entered. They weren't as wet, and Sasuke noticed the folded umbrella in Shikamaru's hand. Obviously, there hadn't been room for Kiba under there. Sasuke smirked.

"Eh, dude, got some new clothes for me?" Kiba gestured towards his own body, gripping the wet shirt he was wearing and pulling it off his body. Shikamaru sighed behind Kiba, murmuring something, as he tried to undo the damp shoelaces on his sneakers.

Sasuke nodded towards the stairs and let Kiba walk up before him. Before following the brunet upstairs, Sasuke motioned for Shikamaru and Chouji where the living room was.

Upstairs, Kiba was already trying to figure out which room was Sasuke's. "Your house is confusing. Don't you have any 'keep out'-signs or anything?"

"No." Sasuke walked past the loud boy and opened the right door. "Here. Don't touch anything."

Kiba walked inside, unbuckling his jeans at the same time. "Wow, it's fucking bright in here!" He spun around, taking in the room of a becoming artist. He looked out through the big windows, his eyes roaming over everything. "I expected something more, like, you know, the Batcave!"

Sasuke opened his wardrobe, skimming through to find something that he could live without. It wasn't hard to find something that would fit Kiba, as they had the same body type – tall, broad shoulders, well-sculptured muscles. He found a shirt and a pair of jeans that he hadn't worn in ages, and figured that the dog-lover could have them.

When he turned around, he realised why Kiba had gone so quiet. With the voice of a cold-hearted serial killer, Sasuke asked, "What are you doing?"

Kiba dropped the paper with a yelp, turning around to face Sasuke. He let out a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in an awkward manor. "I was...was just...hehe, looking."

"Don't look through my garbage bin. It's creepy." He threw Kiba the clothes, and the other laughed again.

"I didn't know you knew Naruto, man."

Sasuke paled, wondering how Kiba had figured out who it was on the half-finished drawings. "I...don't."

Kiba blinked, the corner of his mouth twitching a little. He ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. "Oh... Now, that's creepy."

Sasuke glared. "Last time I checked, this was a free country."

Kiba shrugged, picking up one of the papers from the floor again. "I like 'em, though. You're really good – they almost look like photos!"

Unable to answer politely to the compliment, Sasuke walked towards the door, opening it and waiting for Kiba to get out. Getting the hint, Kiba got dressed quickly before running downstairs. Sasuke followed, refusing to feel embarrassed over his drawings of Naruto.

"You know, dude," Kiba said when Sasuke caught up with him. "I know Naruto a bit. We played soccer for a while when we were kids. My mom knows his mom really well; they meet up whenever they can."

Sasuke stared at Kiba, wondering 'so?'

"Perhaps you would like me to introduce you to him? Like, next time he has a show or something. You know he dances, right? I bet he's turned into a wimp, with all those splits and pirouettes." Kiba laughed roughly, patting Sasuke's shoulder.

Sasuke brushed the hand away, scowling slightly at the body contact. "You wanted to watch movies, no?"

"Yes, Captain."

They walked into the living room, finding Chouji and Shikamaru. They looked up when Kiba and Sasuke returned, and got up from the couch. Shikamaru had been at Sasuke's place once before, for a group work in school, and so, he didn't look too unfamiliar with the new surroundings.

"Theatre room, over here," Sasuke said in his normally bored voice. He opened the door for them, leaning against it.

"I've got popcorn," Chouji informed them all, as if he would actually share. He handed one of the bags to Kiba, knowing that Shikamaru wouldn't want anything. The three boys sat down in the red armchairs, in the middle of the theatre. Sasuke closed the door, sitting down on the edge of the row to save himself from catching stupid.

Kiba jumped over his seat to start the film. "First movie, about a big-ass monkey and hot girls."

Sasuke refrained from telling Kiba that gorillas were primates. It would only complicate things. Sasuke would never enjoy complicated things, and was very sure that Shikamaru felt the same, as he didn't correct the brown-haired idiot either. He was unsure if Chouji knew such things.

The brunet slumped down next to Sasuke, much to the Uchiha's disgrace. "So," Kiba drawled. His voice was nicely covered by the movie sounds as the introduction started. Sasuke only heard because the dog-loving moron was leaning into his personal space. "For how long have you been stalking Naruto?"

That didn't even deserve an answer in Sasuke's world, and so he kept his gaze on the big screen.

"Ne? You've seen him on stage or what?"

"Yes, Kiba. Now shut up."

The rest of the movie was spent in silence. Shikamaru's snores weren't audible over the screams of the actresses or the roars from the giant gorilla. Chouji kept quiet, munching on his popcorn. Kiba let out barks of laughter at the most inappropriate times, but didn't bother Sasuke otherwise.

All in all, watching movies with these guys wasn't too awful.

Two days later, Sasuke found Kiba on his doorstep. He blinked, wondering what the boy wanted. It was late evening, and Sasuke would be having dinner with his family in a few minutes. Chouji and Shikamaru were out of sight, and Sasuke assumed that the brunet had shown up alone.

"Busy?"

Sasuke scowled, his lips turning into a thin line. "Yes."

Kiba shrugged. "Okay. Just wanted to tell you that I'm picking you up Saturday – or was it Friday? – seven o'clock. We're going to meet up with Naruto after his show."

Sasuke's heart skipped a beat, leaving a painful feeling in his chest. He unconsciously brought up a hand and started massaging over his sore heart. "You couldn't tell me over the phone?"

"Dude, I totally don't have you phone number!" Kiba dug up his cellphone, ready to get Sasuke's number.

The Uchiha waited a minute, wondering if he could get away with slamming the door in Kiba's face. By the determined look on Kiba's face, Sasuke guessed that he wouldn't. Therefore, he gave the other his cellphone number. Afterwards, he felt nothing but regret – the grin on Kiba's face promised trouble.

"I'll see you in school tomorrow," Kiba said, putting down his cellphone again. Kiba continued, as if Sasuke had thanked him for coming here and tell him about Saturday – or Friday. "Don't worry 'bout me, I was taking a walk with Akamaru anyway."

Sasuke could see Kiba's dog on the gravel path that lead towards the main house in the Uchiha Compound, where they were standing. It was huge. Sasuke quickly closed the door, ignoring the bark that came from the other side.

He was having a date with Naruto on Saturday. Well, not a date. Kiba would be there too, thank God. Otherwise, there would be nothing but awkward silence. Sasuke had never been forced to participate in conversations – people often talked to him, but they never expected any replies in return. He was Uchiha Sasuke; he barely spoke with his closest family.

"Honey, who was that at the door?" Mikoto came out in the hall, a white apron over her navy blue cocktail dress. Sasuke didn't answer immediately, which made Mikoto assume that it was just one of their relatives in the compound. "Will you set the table for me? Your father will be home soon."

"Where is Itachi?" Sasuke asked, wondering if the evil genius would be at home tonight.

If Itachi didn't come home, Sasuke was free to relax and dwell in the happiness and nervousity that slowly grew in his chest. If he was at home, Sasuke would have to lock himself up in his room and stay there, surrounded by half-finished pictures of Naruto. At the moment, Sasuke didn't want to go back to his room just yet. There, he would only face his failed projects. Outside his room, he still felt as if there was a chance that he could succeed with his drawing.

"I don't know. Put a plate on his place as well, if he shows up." Mikoto walked back into the kitchen, Sasuke following. There, he set the table and listened to his mother speak. She had a lot to tell him about her day and the girl that one of his cousins had introduced this morning. "–and they have been dating for months now! Soon, there will be another wedding here…"

Sasuke stopped listening. The entire Uchiha Clan loved weddings. With weddings came more members to the clan. Of course, not all the couples were allowed to get married. Sasuke knew, for example, that his father's cousin hadn't been allowed to marry the man she wanted. Then again, the man had been uneducated and poor. Two things the Uchiha frowned upon; lack of education and poverty. It was foolish of her to introduce the man of her dreams – that way; she wasn't allowed to meet him ever again.

It was sad, Sasuke knew. Unfair and unreal in some people's lives. It was the way it was within the Uchiha tribe's walls. Having been raised with these morals and rules, Sasuke saw nothing wrong with it. He had been born into this, and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

"Sasuke."

Sasuke looked up, seeing his father entering the kitchen. He looked oddly pleased. Behind Fugaku, one of Sasuke's uncles stood. Sasuke rose from the chair he had slumped down onto, almost making the chair topple backwards. "Father. Madara-oji."

Madara smirked, nodding his way. "I heard from Itachi-kun that you want to focus on the soccer."

Sasuke refrained from scowling. He had never uttered such a thing; soccer was something he liked to do on his pastime. He loved it because it wasn't binding. He loved it because his father had never cared about it – it was unscathed.

"Madara has talked to your trainer, Sasuke. He mentioned that you are skilled enough to become a professional. Kakashi-kun will call a few agents from universities and colleges in Japan." Fugaku smirked; probably thinking of the praise coach Hatake had given him for raising such a talented son.

"Sir, I–"

"Don't worry, Sasuke-kun," Madara cut off, a dangerous glint in his pitch black eyes.

Sasuke clenched his jaw together, keeping from shouting out the truth. Itachi was nothing but a cold-blooded bastard. Sasuke didn't want Fugaku to ruin soccer for him. Of course, he wasn't even allowed to think such thoughts, not now, when uncle Madara had gone such lengths to make his name known in the world of soccer.

"How sweet of you, Madara-san," Mikoto gushed. A faint blush covered her cheeks as steam rose from the pot in her hands. "I hope it wasn't a bother."

"Of course not, of course not," Madara said. Sasuke stared as the tall man turned to look at him, the smirk still in place as he narrowed his eyes. Madara knew. Sasuke knew. Fugaku didn't understand and Mikoto didn't know. Itachi was a true bastard.

Sasuke damned his brother to the deep pits of Hell.

To Be Continued