Again, I'm glad to have finished this sucker. Well, I had originally hoped to stick in some more horrible stuff about Sasuke's flashbacks but I decided the word count limited me. Haha, sorry. Gosh. Originally I decided against adding notes at the end of the chapters, but then I couldn't resist for this one. You'll understand when you read through this.

Usually when I'm writing the chapter a lot of things pop into my head of what to say to you readers, but then when it gets to the time where I actually would post it, suddenly my head's empty. Hm. I wonder why.

Let me just start off to say that in 2006, people thought Sasuke was horribly evil here. Suddenly, the manga took a twist and now he's more in canon than ever before. Funny how things turn out. :D Enjoy!

UPDATE (9-19-12): So yes, I screwed up a very small, but VERY MAJOR detail. A lot of you guys noticed that Sakura was suddenly blonde. -sigh- Stupid me. I fixed it now. Well, yes, there is a reason why and I hope I've fixed this properly. The edit is in the part right after the flashback.

Gods of Vindication
Part IV: Violence and Vanilla

"Don't speak, I know what you're thinking, and I don't need your reasons… don't tell me 'cause it hurts…"

When Sakura opened her eyes, it struck her how the light glowing through the curtains was the orange of sunsets and Naruto's clothes. Hm. How would he like it to know Sasuke came back. The room felt a bit stuffier than usual from the heat of day, radiating from the window and making her feel like she was made of lead. Eyes half open, she wondered whether Sasuke had returned, lethargic and partly conscious. In trying to turn and lie on her back, a weight registered to her across her waist, as heavy as her heart and inadvertently linked into something she pressed up against. Someone.

Cheeks burning in the heat of the room and the realization, she tried to look at what was pinning her down. She was met with only the sight of the blanket.

Her suddenly movement must have woken him up as he stirred, his body cradling her from behind, a deep sigh breathing against her back. It felt strange as he adjusted, arm clenching tighter around her midriff, pelvis pressing into her hips as he leaned his weight into her, a knee snugly firm behind one of her own, her feet unintentionally exploring the feel of his at her soles. Everything was too physically present, the sensation being beside him, everything...

Confusion was the least of what bothered her. This was Sasuke. He did not do close, he did not do physical. He was always so cold and distant and would fuck up anyone who invaded his privacy back when they were genins that no one didn't dare get close to him. Except Naruto, that is. It was so strange to imagine he would be there sleeping so near, to be willing to lay there beside her, to hold her, keep on holding her like there nothing more natural in the world. This wasn't too different, but the warmth of his body behind her was so disarming she didn't know how to react.

"Sak," was breathed into her ear and she stiffened, all sleep driven from her as the muggy air of the room sweltered them, burying them beneath the heat and thick layers of the blanket. Breathing through her mouth, she pretended she didn't hear him. It felt too hot and she wanted to kick free from the sheets, yet encased in his arms, she froze. "I know you're awake, Sakura."

The way he said her name made her feel weak. She hated him for being able to single handedly destroy any will she had, no matter how long she pondered to stick to it. She made a vow to never back down if it came to facing him, but when he showed the slightest interest in her, the tiniest amount of humanity surfacing his cruel exterior, she'd crumble beneath his fingers and be that pathetic, sniveling Sakura who couldn't do anything before him. All the time he wasn't there she tried building up resolve to finally stand up to him, yet when it came time for confrontation there was nothing she could do to stop him from whatever he wanted to do with her. It was a bitter truth she couldn't accept.

Turning her head around to look at him, she was met with ubiquitous gray eyes as heavy lidded as hers had been moments ago. There was an eerie serenity in his features that, for a moment, returned her back to how she felt originally for one Uchiha Sasuke. Naive and innocent was how she loved him, but so raw and bottomless and limitless, so full of hope that he'd return her feelings back and her heart soaring every time he spent effort for her.

Her hand slid over his arm and latched onto it but his expression did not change, and she gathered the courage to continue and pull herself to sit up against the headboard. She closed her eyes, wanting to bury her face in her hands. He was everything she wanted. He was everything she shouldn't be wanting.

"It's still early," she told him, not knowing what else to say.

The air still heavy and uncomfortable, he said nothing. When she pushed to finally move the blanket off of them, the smooth underside of its heavy material silkily sliding against her hand, she gave it a forceful jerk away to the foot of the bed.

Blood everywhere.

ooo000ooo

The look on her face was incredibly fascinating as she practically shot out of his arms, tumbling off the side of the bed with a gasp and wide forest eyes filled with horror.

That was it. Be scared. Be fucking terrified. Be herself as she took in what he fully was capable of. He had no qualms in what he did as long as it was of his own choosing. No one forced his hand in this, and he wanted her to see what it meant to be Uchiha Sasuke, the bloodshed and the suffering that came with his last name. She wouldn't be able to know what it was like unless she realized she was going to be dragged into hell and beyond if she stayed with him, and he was going to make damn sure she stayed true to him for every minute of it. There was no saying what could happen with Orochimaru, but the sannin was highly intelligent and would know Sasuke wouldn't go down without a fight.

For a few more seconds she sat shocked on the floor, half of the comforter dragged down underneath her with the other end pulled off from the upper half of his body, exposing the crimson stains. It was sprayed on his shirt, his chest, handprints soaked into the sheets where he had crawled towards her, drops in his hair soaked on the pillow, smudged where they had lain, smeared even on her undershirt where he drew close to her in their sleep and gripped her tightly. Blood everywhere, dried to a mottled shade of brownish red.

Take it in.

He merely lay there watching her, draped in his clan's colors, drinking in the distress of his former teammate. Soon she would run, escape like she always did, try to find a safe place, away from him, away from...

"Are you hurt!?"

His smirk froze when she suddenly drew forward upon the shock wearing off, palms invoked onto his chest, worry etched into her features while searching for a wound that wasn't there. It was unnerving to see the blood streaked across the pink swatch of hair where he inhaled the lingering scent of her shampoo in early hours, mattress shifting as she returned kneeling to his side. A burst of deja vu breezed through him in the intense heat of the room, like of death mirrors and ice needles.

Hands flitted over his skin, her face angry and distraught as she finally clamped down a palm on his forehead, healing warmth pulsating through him. Even without his sharingan to see, he knew what she was doing.

When the feeling died, Sakura's eyes were looking back down at him, eyebrows drawn together. Her energy had finally calmed down.

"No wounds. What happened?" she asked softly, unflinchingly.

He lay silent, watching her from where he lay, finding the pillow comfortable at his neck. He did not expect that. He did not expect her to be accepting of this, not scared of what he could do, what he wanted to do, his bloodstained hands plain in sight yet she did not run. Was this her strength? Was this was Orochimaru needed from her? Is this what fascinated that old man so much?

Come to think of it, she never ran away. Whatever happened to him, whatever he turned into, she always remained. Wave country and Zabuza and Haku, the Forest of Death. She stayed by him, and until the very end on that cold night, she stood there in the middle of the path and...

His hands clenched.

"In the bathroom. I left something for you on the sink," he told her stiffly, her tired green eyes still warm on him.

She sat there silently and he wanted to shove her out of the way to march out of the room. He had been doing everything to extinguish whatever remained of her in his life but it seemed she was determined to stay.

"Sasuke," she kept those hands on his chest, "did you... want this to happen?"

What if I told you I loved it? She even ignored what he just said. Of course, everything broadcasting blood and death would demand her attention. She was a medic, after all. Would she learn to hate him if he admitted what she was asking? That he did not feel the least bit remorse when kusanagi's blade bit into that Leaf chunnin vest? He did not flinch? Did not turn away? Did not hesitate?

"This much blood," his former teammate continued, him watching as her eyes slid down to his chest and shirt where most of the stain remained. He didn't let her finish her train of thought.

"He bled like a stuck pig," he interjected simply, the furrow between her eyebrows appearing on the smooth skin.

"Did you like it?" she pressed. This wasn't going to go anywhere good should this conversation mature.

"No," he lied brusquely, pushing her hands off him. "Now get into the bathroom before I make you."

Wordlessly obedient she stood up, a few more lingering seconds watching him. It was in how she moved away from him, how she got up off the bed, how she tore her those wide green eyes away from him. She was accusing him, judging him even though she did not know what happened, what he did, why he did it. She dared be condescending at such a time yet try to play to his good side by staying put and following his orders, walking over listlessly to the bathroom.

He closed his eyes to the world. He might end up hurting her again should he dwell on this. He kept telling himself to hold on for the rest of this journey. By the end of this she'd be taken off his hands and be his problem no longer. She would...

The door closed with a bang, too loud in the silence of the room. He found himself gritting his teeth and he tried to relax, breathing in the warm dank air, releasing the tension from his hands but leaving behind the signs of his frustration as crescents on his palms. She was not worth this.

~x~

It began with touch. His hand skimming over his, lingering too long in dressing his bandages, too light, too heavy, too triggering to not mean anything. Disgust roiled in his belly but he decided this was nothing. It was his mistake. Touches, condescending words.

He brought out the worst in the Uchiha, stoking hatred and negative feelings. In fact, he was the beginning of the manipulation soon to be ingrained in his personality.

"Sasuke-kun, please keep still."

His early responses were out of anger, slapping his hand away whenever he tried to reach closer, shouting vulgarities in his face, all to get away. This was not supposed to happen, this was just some horrible nightmare—

~x~

He opened obsidian irises to the sound of the bathroom door opening and Sakura emerging through the doorway with a basin full of water in her arms. A hand towel was slung over a shoulder, her face concentrated in not trying to splash the liquid over the edges as she made her way across the room, carefully setting it down on the bedside table then using its weight to push the lampshade and clock out of the way. The digital timer flipped, a click for a change of numbers signalling a minute passed. When those eyes too big for her face returned to his form on the bed, he could see the full effect on her appearance.

Her hair was wet and clung to her nape, around her face as it dripped around her damp shoulders fresh from a shower. For an eternal second she stood there unperturbed, holding his gaze with the emerald in her eyes standing out even more, almost luminous, against the washed strands of her hair in a stark white blonde hue. The silvery tangles clung to the smooth skin of her face and he realized he was staring. The dye, something as simple as dark liquid in a bottle, had bleached out the pink in her hair, bleached out her very identity.

When she moved to resume her seat beside him he subdued the powerful clench in his chest and watched her take the washcloth and submerge it into the enamel basin. Meticulous and proper, so clean cut. She was focusing at the mess instead of him, pressing the rough fabric against his face and avoiding meeting his eyes. He allowed himself this opportunity to take in the sight of her. At a glance no one would recognize Sakura, now camouflaged in the open. No more searches for missing pink haired ninjas to be keeping tabs on.

As she guided the towel across his skin unmaliciously, firmly pressing down into the dried blood on his chest, he kept searching her face. The dark stain still was mussed into her undershirt, contrasting against the cream color. Trailing into the hollow between his collarbones, the towel dipped through the curves of his throat and her fingers brushed his skin. He silently mused how her identity was so rooted into the color of her hair. So much so as she scoured off the remnants of his kill, Sakura seemed a completely different person.

A tingle returned to twist in the pit of his stomach when she continued working without a word passing her lips, as silent as he was, time and again soaking the cloth into the cold water and rinsing it, bit by bit erasing the sign of his malignant impulse. It was like she was in a trance. She was different, and it was all his doing. He had no other ill intentions when he put half a mind of taking a bottle of dye from a hawking merchant, randomly choosing whatever he first touched. He did not expect this, the uncharacteristic beating in his chest, of trying to keep his breathing relaxed and measured.

Sasuke let her finish in tranquil mood, letting her pull him up to sit as she dragged off the soiled shirt off his shoulders, letting her pass the cloth over and around his neck a final time. She was too drawn to concentrating on her task that either she was playing ignorant, or she hadn't noticed he was close enough to breach the intimate distance with an accidental turn of the head.

In deciding to find out Sasuke found himself looping a lock of wet gold hair around his finger, knowing it would only grow even lighter as it dried, his knuckles grazing her cheek and drawing a sharp intake of breath against the back of his hand. Those large clear eyes were all at once trained on him, suddenly aware of their closeness and Sakura was instantly herself again, freezing in place. The towel was cold and wet against his shoulder, but her hand over it was warm.

She looked ethereal, pale skin and silvery gold hair, no sign of a day of training on her frame, huge pools of green seemingly the only splash of color on her as she sat beside him only in her undershirt and black shorts. Vaguely he wondered how many times must she have imagined what it felt to kiss him fully on the mouth, his dark gray gaze falling to pink tinged lips. He never noticed them before, the pink of her hair previously drawing all attention away from everything else. Now it wasn't any longer... and only her mouth was pink, and he couldn't find it in him to resist as he wanted badly to look away. Was this...

Is this how you felt before? he soundlessly asked her, coiling the ringlet tighter, cutting into his skin. This feeling, that unnatural nervousness in his belly urging him to bridge that gap between them, he disliked it immensely. It was powerful. It consumed all thought and left no room for reason. She would not become his downfall because she was nothing but a distraction he needed to get rid of at the soonest. Giving in to such yearnings would only deter him because Sakura wasn't in his plan. She had never been in his plan. But maybe just this once, just a taste...

Once again doubt angrily reared in him. Was this Orochimaru's reason for asking to bring her to him? Was she the wrench in his gears, to stall and make him forget his purpose so his body would finally belong to the sannin?

He could smell fear and he wanted to ask her what it she saw in him that made her keep staying when she wasn't even sure about his intentions. She was matching his opposing emotions with apprehension and was sitting stock still, unable to decide what to do. Keeping her out of pocket, shoving her away every time she got closer was currently what he had in mind. Her powerful sense of unbending faith in his words were the most he could manipulate her with, showing her just enough compassion to keep her interested and stay isolated from Orochimaru's other influences. Whatever he had, all he could control in her, they never would be able to match that. In there lay the way to control her, watching her tremble as his knuckles traced beneath her lower lip.

There was nothing else telling him as clearly as this that she was his, his thoughts ravaging possession on her being. Mine. Sakura tried to move away from him but the lock of her hair fastened around his finger drew taut, the gold curl acting like an anchor keeping her secure where she sat. All mine.

"Whatever happens when we get there," he whispered, the cold washcloth sliding down his back like the scales of a snake but her warm hands remaining firmly pressed against his shoulders, "your loyalties belong to me."

For a moment her silence pervaded the air and confusion in her viridian irises filled his vision. Then her lips ever so slightly lifted at the side and a small smile made its way into her eyes, catching him unawares. Without thinking his first instinct was to hurt her, the brazenness to smile about this making him want to crush it with his tongue and teeth. The scent of the inn's soap on his former teammate's skin filled his senses, the exposed shoulder urging for a bite into the soft flesh. Anything to inflict pain on her. He hated her, he hated...

"I'll always." clear green eyes sliding down to her hair anchored to him, calmly speaking, "choose to stay with you."

ooo000ooo

The brambles snagged at Sasuke's cloak the way he was sure it was ripping into hers. In the dark path toward one of the hideouts Sound used, he went on, ignoring the negligible stings. They were close.

Turning his head minutely towards his former teammate, he assessed her petite form moving smoothly beside him in the dark, a hand held out in front of her face to keep from running into a tree. He had been so close to losing it with her earlier, the blood still coursing hotly in his veins at how he could have grabbed her by the hair and brutally taken out his anger on her. Emotions do not control you, he told himself, watching her closely, newly discolored hair almost glowing in what little light they went by on their way. In a way she had changed, no longer the Sakura from before, but still a part of her old self remained.

When her eyes flicked towards him, noticing him watching her, he looked away as casually as he could and ignored the prickling feeling at the back of his neck. Emotions do not control you, his new mantra. The entrance to the hideout was just up ahead, and as they stepped into the clearing, his senses heightened sharply.

His mistake would be rectified immediately if he wanted things to go smoothly. He didn't need another distraction, because any more at this point would—

"SASUKE!"

He felt the presence before he heard the voice. Red and passion and energy hurtled toward him and his instincts caught up, his hands clamping down on slender wrists that were intended to be thrown around his neck. She was so goddamn irritating.

"Sasuke, you're finally here!" Karin's smooth voice full of emotion spilled over them, "I was so worried."

She moved closer, tipping on her toes, moving her lips closer toward him and with a quick motion he grabbed her waist, pushing her back. Her unpredicted appearance here was not a good sign at any rate. Her capabilities as a powerful sensory tracker was very well known to him, and the reason he had her picked out for joining him in his future assault against Orochimaru, and it was clear she would have felt him far longer than he'd noticed her. Her perceptiveness and very keen antics for being an actress were things he could see through, because it also meant she would have felt Sakura's presence along with his.

"I'm with someone," he stressed to the redhead, scarlet eyes behind glasses wistfully still trained at him. She had enough courtesy to pretend to be surprised, and moved away from him to peek behind his shoulder the same time he turned around.

Sakura had a weary expression on her face, but he was sure of the fire in her eyes, indignant, undoubtedly provoked. A graceful blonde eyebrow was arched and a tight smile quirked at her lips. Disdain and probably contempt at what she had just witnessed. If there was any truth to what she had been telling him, showing him all this time, he would not be surprised.

Karin was the more subtle of the two, he realized, as he assessed the belittling once over she gave his former teammate. She continued to push her familiarity with him in the blonde's face, laying a hand on his arm and speaking as if she weren't around.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke, I didn't know," she gave him a shy smile, her cheeks reddening in the sunset light. "I guess her chakra was so weak I couldn't feel it."

His former teammate laughed heartily and flashed a show of teeth, a fake smile that caused a deep chill in his bones to see her this way. This was not Sakura. At least, not the one he knew.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," she said after a while, opening her gleaming emerald eyes, "I'm Sakura. You are?"

She stepped forward, a hand reaching out from the depths of her wine colored cloak towards Karin. In slow motion she opened her palm, empty and held out for a handshake. This was an unenthusiastically mature move of hers, he realized. But as the moment where his teammate was taken aback, Sakura's mask betrayed her and showed great turmoil before it disappeared, and then he knew he would have bigger problems coming soon in dealing with both of them together.

Watching their hands meet together lightly, fingers careful speaking volumes of how each of them was too cautious to show their real feelings, they both could not hide from him what he had been trained for all his years to read. Graceful smiles on their lips but blazing disquiet in emerald and crimson eyes. He was caught in the middle, the gears in his head shutting down for the moment because it was too much spontaneous events muddling his plans.

He sighed audibly, catching both their attentions. They needed a break. He needed a break from this. Orochimaru was incredibly good at predicting what he was planning, he wouldn't be surprised to know if the sannin would simply backstab him after all of this effort.

"We're staying here for the night."

ooo000ooo

A very pregnant and awkward air had come to settle over the campfire they setup by the ruins of the hideout. On the other edge of the fire Sasuke could see her quiet in the sleeping bag faced in his direction, huge eyes closed and that leather bound notebook still clutched in her small hands lying by her side. She had remained too polite with Karin's presence, too quiet and tense ever since he blew the flames to life and while they ate a sordidly cold meal from what they could find in the torched hideout.

Beneath the awnings of a blasted wall was where they sought shelter for the rest of the evening, at least what remained of it. Soot had claimed debris everywhere, the redhead describing powerful explosions rocking and effectively annihilating the base.

He leaned against the flat of the wall behind him, the place the cleanest they could find, and pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache threatening to take full effect. The two girls had bickered earlier about the source of the damage, because Karin had mentioned red clouds on flapping black coats that boiled his blood. She assured him Itachi had not been present, yet he remained cautious and distrustful. In describing the appearance of the pair who appeared from the horizon on a great winged creature, his Konoha cohort was quick to point out she knew the fair haired persona with a blond ponytail.

Their sharp exchange of words had begun there and he cursed how they both agitated him so. Such shallow insecurities had immediately bubbled to the surface, Karin unwilling to admit that Sakura had much more information on the Akatsuki duo—thus was the one he was preferring to listen to—and Sakura so gleeful that she was underhandedly rubbing it in the redhead's face like some juvenile dolt.

Regardless of how he was impressed at how she rose to taunt instead of being the one walked all over, their quickly escalating conversation still ringed true of the childishness at fighting over him. Their squabbling had been put to a halt once he raised his own voice, sternly glaring at the two of them. His former teammate had hung her head in silent shame and the current one glared back before huffily going about looking for food.

The powerful stench of burnt earth was eminent. He had been watching Sakura's sleeping form for a while now, and Karin had taken advantage of his contemplation to take up residence beside him. A hand on his arm, an arm around his shoulder, the smell of lip gloss registering just a moment too late.

His reflexes grabbed her by the shoulders as he leaned away, gray eyes darkening at the sight of her naked scarlet irises, her eyeglasses discarded at her sleeping back. Uchiha Sasuke did not know how he was supposed to respond but he felt nothing. All the times she pulled these on him, he felt nothing.

"Karin," he intoned flatly. He could taste cherry on his lips.

The redhead rolled her eyes, smiling as she sighed and pulled back. He wondered why she never had the capacity to take into account his personal space. She did not seem to have that problem with Suigetsu. Or Juugo, especially. She was as naive as Sakura was in this aspect, unable to determine the hazards of a person properly. He would just have to keep silent until the need to expel her arises. She was still useful. And at the moment, he needed her more in his plan than he needed his blonde companion.

"She's asleep," she pointed out, leaning on the wall beside him. "What would she know, anyway?"

He gave her another long, hard look, their wills speaking silently on their own until a conclusion had been made. She gave in, as she always did when it was him, giving another exaggerated sigh as she made to move to her own sleeping bag.

"Okay fine," she said, pausing for a while as she looked at him over her shoulder and gave him a tender look, expression softening. "I owe you this. But I'll be there to protect you still when we meet up with Orochimaru-sama."

"Aa."

"You know you'll need me when he's around."

Sasuke remained quiet until she pulled her covers up to sleep, drawing the back of his hand over his mouth. Her lipgloss was too sweet. When his gaze lingered over towards the sleeping blonde, piercing green irises stared back at him from behind the flickering fire. His heart lurched.

For a few seconds Sakura stared at him, making him wonder why he felt he had committed some sort of indiscretion and was caught, abhorring the sick, guilty feeling washing into his chest. Suddenly she broke into a silent laugh. His lips thinned into a line when she, too, turned her back on him. That single look from her made him freeze.

Sakura. He glared at the tousled blonde hair spilling on her pillow and the black leather notebook. He must have imagined it. That had to be it.

AN: Does Sasuke have a thing for blondes? I have no idea. xD