Thanks to everyone who kindly took the time to leave feedback for the last chapter. I hope you will enjoy this one :)
Chapter CVII
A sacrifice of love births a rift,
In the Crossroads of Fate - setting them adrift,
And from death's void is life restored,
To hands that sealed away the gourd,
As threads, once severed, unravel anew,
Turning the course of destiny itself askew.
~x~
The doors parted and Sasuke stepped out onto an upper landing that bordered the entire perimeter of the glittering, warmly-lit ballroom. It was enclosed within ornately carved balustrades of black marble set between ebony pillars that glinted faintly with gold inlay, forming a gilded, interior balcony that overlooked the sprawling ballroom floor below.
Cresting, poignant notes reverberated loudly through the air, haunting Sasuke's senses like the dead haunted the banks of Acheron. They lured him irresistibly forward, drowning out the frenzied pounding of his heartbeat. His sandals sank noiselessly into the plush strip of velvet carpet that lined the landing as he slowly approached the balcony, feeling as though a hole had been blown open inside his chest, just above where his agitated heart was hammering frantically with all its might against his ribcage. As if desperate to escape from his body before he looked over the balcony's edge. Before he crossed the threshold into the point of no return.
All time then seemed to suspend as Sasuke's gaze finally came to rest upon the sleek, ebony piano that was positioned in the corner of the ballroom directly beneath where he stood, surrounded by tall, bronze, floor candelabra that threw a flattering golden glow over the instrument - and the one who so proficiently played it. Obsidian eyes widened in disbelief as they settled on a most arresting figure seated upon the upholstered black bench, everything about them - from the effortlessness of their poise to the richness of their clothing - drenched in aristocracy, in absolute refinement.
Sasuke froze beside a pillar. His mind blanked. Every rational thought scattered to the wind.
Long, silky hair, as dark as the night and as glossy as a crow's wing, was gathered high atop the pianist's head, secured by an ornate golden clasp. Straight raven locks spilled down a broad back wrapped in a heavy cloak of rich black velvet. The padded, fitted shoulders of the fabric were embroidered with intricate gold thread, patterns that matched the designs stitched into the close fitting, high-necked collar of the cloak.
Multiple gold piercings, including cuffs, slender daggers set with onyx stones, and black feathers affixed to delicate gold chains, adorned their earlobes, and rings of black kyanite and blood-red garnet lined their long, elegant fingers. Fingers which, at that moment, were dancing with well-practised skill over the piano keys, weaving an enchanting, musical spell.
The air was robbed from Sasuke's lungs as he found himself riveted in place, powerless to tear his stunned gaze away from the noble figure. Something wrenched deeply within his chest and twisted violently inside his gut. He could feel the blood draining from his face as he stared down at the pianist in the manner one unaccustomed to spirits looked upon a spectre. Haunted. Stricken. Devastated.
Terrified.
Prince Thanatos of the Uchiha was every bit as imposing, magnificent and dignified as Sasuke's most cherished memories recalled he had been. He could not see his elder brother's face, for his back was turned to him, but it was as clear as dawn that Itachi had not aged a single day, that Lethe's crystal tomb had flawlessly preserved his physical shell.
Sasuke released an unsteady, trembling breath, and reached out to the pillar beside him, as if it might somehow anchor him and save him from being swept away by the tempestuous storm of charged emotions that had been unleashed upon him like a roaring, crashing rip-tide. He blinked over and over, expecting the vision to vanish each time, almost willing it, for the sake of his sanity, to dispel, to free him of the torment of emotional slaughter that was butchering his overwhelmed senses - but still the image of his brother remained.
Sasuke's heart careened uncontrollably and was sent plunging through the earth when he finally managed to drag his gaze away from Itachi, only to notice that he was not alone. There stood a second figure, tall and equally as striking to look upon, cloaked identically in black velvet, the stitching on their formal, ceremonial raiment and the jewellery adorning their hands and ears not of gold, but brilliant, platinum-silver set with onyx gems. Unruly, silken locks of wavy raven hair fell messily over the individual's forehead as they leaned casually back against the side of the piano, arms folded across their chest, their head turned toward the pianist. Listening intently to the melody that was reaching a stunning crescendo.
The shock was so crippling - so utterly debilitating - that Sasuke, rocked by the swarm of conflicting feelings that were waging their aggressive war within him, stumbled backwards behind the pillar, pressing his back against the cold, hard marble as if seeking to hide himself away, to shield himself from the astounding, staggering sight of his deceased kin restored in the flesh. A thoughtless, reflexive action born of mindless panic and sheer disbelief. Of heartbreak and an impossible hope he had no right to feel. He fought to swallow back the rising tide of his emotions, trying desperately not to drown in them, to regain some measure of control over his senses, but even as he tried to grasp at them, he could feel them rapidly spiralling, and he could not, he could not-
He was coming undone. The world as he knew it had been torn apart once again, and this time, he was not certain he could cope. It was impossible to restore any semblance of order or composure, for never had he felt so thrown, so vulnerable, so stunned and overwhelmed, as if everything he had known about himself and the world in which he existed had been nothing but a cruel masquerade, a charade, a harrowing lie. The ground had been snatched out from underneath him and he was powerless to stop himself from the accompanying, dizzying freefall. One that plunged him into turmoil, into the depths of chaos itself.
Sasuke could not breathe. His body trembled with a force so fierce, it was the support of the pillar at his back alone that kept him standing upright. Tears welled in his eyes, accompanied by a most vicious stab of pain in his right iris. He bit back a hiss, pressing a palm to it, grimacing in discomfort and grinding his teeth until the throb thankfully ebbed. It was not possible, he told himself, sick to his stomach, tortured by a lost hope he had never expected to find again. The dead did not simply return to life, whether they were mortal or not. Lethe did not relinquish its crystal entombed. What he had seen made no logical sense. It defied the very laws of life and death.
Perhaps he, himself, had perished, or was trapped in the deepest recesses of what tattered, pitiful vestiges remained of his consciousness, dreaming of what his heart had yearned for above all else - to be reunited with his family. It could not be real. And yet there stood two of his kin on the ballroom floor below. All he had to do to reach them was move.
He wanted to. How he wanted to go straight to them. He wanted to see them, to speak to them, to touch them, to feel with his own hands that they were real, truly there in the flesh, and not cruel figments of his imagination. But every muscle in his body had seized, and he stood rooted to the spot, too afraid to do either as chaotic, deafening thoughts barrelled like a riotous hurricane through his mind.
How? Obito had infiltrated the Underworld, taken the Rinnegan, and used Sasuke's blood to unseal the Titans. Sasuke had lost his body to the Curse Seal, and Sakura had been left at the enemy's mercy, defenceless and alone. Nobody had come to their aid. Sasuke's mind reeled, any attempt to join the dots birthing yet more broken threads that led to further questions and no answers. How was it possible? How much time had passed since the confrontation in the throne-room, that there now appeared to be no sign of Obito at all, no evidence of any struggle occurring?
Slowly, he drew his hand away from his face, cringing as another throb of discomfort assaulted his right eye, causing his vision to blur. He blinked rapidly to restore clarity to his sight, as the musical composition reached its end, the final, echoing note plunging the throne-room into a resounding silence.
The only thing Sasuke heard was the alarming shallowness of his own breathing, the fitful pummelling of his heart against his ribcage, and the cascading rush of blood throbbing in his ears.
"Your choice of hiding place is questionable." A voice suddenly remarked.
Sasuke's heart constricted tightly, as if squeezed in the clutches of an icy, merciless, iron fist. The voice lulled him back to clarity, chasing away the denial that had washed over him. It sliced through the cobwebs of panic and havoc that had clouded his thinking, and cleaved through any last, lingering doubts his mind possessed that whispered to him he had to be dreaming. Smooth, melodious, almost hypnotic in its unhurried tones, it was a voice he had thought he would never hear again. One he had believed to be lost to him forever. His vision blurred, and he did not bother to suppress his silent tears as he sagged back against the pillar, battling to suppress the brewing sobs in his heaving chest.
"But then," the voice continued lightly, "that is no surprise, for you always were terrible at choosing places to hide. We were much too polite to tell you back then, but as you are now fully grown, I suppose it is safe to reveal that truth."
Sasuke's breath hitched in his throat. The words were ridiculous, outrageous, and he could no longer stand it. He needed to know. In a heartbeat, he alighted on the ballroom floor, landing a short distance away from the piano, heart a frenzied, pounding drum inside his chest.
Heavy-lashed, cat-slanted eyes locked instantly onto him. And for the first time in over two thousand years, Sasuke met the piercing, shrewd gaze of Hypnos of the Uchiha.
Shisui was untouched by the ravages of time, his sharp, chiselled features as handsome and youthful as they had always been. At Sasuke's arrival, he immediately straightened, his arms unfolding as he pushed away from the piano with a feline, languid grace.
"Cousin," he greeted, his expression solemn despite the teasing words he had spoken moments earlier. Tilting his head as his gaze roamed over the Underworld's king, he then quipped, "You have grown taller."
Sasuke stood frozen in place, staring at him with wide eyes as if he were indeed looking upon a ghost. Like a petrified deer caught in a snare of barbed wire and blinding lights.
Impossible. The word resounded repeatedly in his head, a maddening mantra that beat to the rhythm of his thundering pulse. Impossible, impossible, impossible. It could not be that Shisui stood before him, perfectly restored to life, looking not a day older than he had been two thousand years prior. Not a reanimated corpse revived by Edo-tensei - but warm and living and real in the flesh.
As if he had never passed. As if he had simply been away, and finally returned home after a long, extended journey.
Sasuke then became distinctly aware of the heavy weight of another powerful gaze, and his eyes darted behind Shisui, to the piano's bench. Where Thanatos was rising gracefully from his seat, his long-lashed gaze fixed intently upon Sasuke.
Their eyes met. Like Shisui, he was unmasked, his appearance unchanged from the last time Sasuke had encountered him, as regal and beautiful to behold as he had always been.
The shock of seeing them at a closer distance was even more unsettling, even more disconcerting. Sasuke's bewilderment was magnified when he realised, with a jolt of surprise, that Itachi did not have an eye missing as Sasuke had expected. Something glinted in those enigmatic obsidian irises, like lightning illuminating a storm. A myriad of conflicting emotions that Sasuke could not decipher through the fresh surge of thick, hot tears that blurred his vision.
His aching heart broke, even as its splintered shards slowly began to reform, stitching back together as he gazed upon what he had spent countless centuries yearning to be returned to him.
And when Itachi murmured his name in quiet greeting - speaking to him in the flesh for the first time in over two millennia - Sasuke forgot how to breathe entirely.
~x~
Lethe flowed silently through the Underworld, its ghostly, cool waters cloudy like the amnesia that drinking from its depths induced. Never was its rippling current transparent, never did it relinquish the deep secrets contained beneath its eerie, ethereal surface.
But at the final seal Hecate's hands formed, an ancient contract was reversed, one that caused an unprecedented stir in Lethe's tranquil waters. A heart, which had been frozen in time, took its first beat, thumping painfully back to life, thawing crystallised blood to liquid warmth once more. And the River of Forgetfulness shimmered with pale-blue light, bearing to its surface, from deep beneath its depths, that which no longer belonged to its waters.
That which the laws of life dictated be returned to the Underworld's shores.
Milky, lapping waves silently pushed a protective, luminous cocoon of crystal along the current, onto the riverbank. No sooner had it impacted upon the gravelly earth, the crystal melted away, gently releasing the figure that had been entombed within.
He lay prone there, pulse growing progressively stronger with every beat, when all at once, consciousness was restored to him, and his eyes flew open.
Burning lungs dragged in a deep, gasping breath, the first they had taken in millennia. Disorientated, heavy-lashed dark eyes took in the sight of the riverbank, and cold-numbed fingers closed around the gravel beneath his searching palms as a dazed, groggy mind struggled to comprehend how he was conscious, how he was living.
It was not possible. But the stones that scratched against his fingertips were sharp-edged, hard, real. The heart thudding agitatedly inside a once-hollow chest reassured him that he was most certainly not dead. And Lethe's waters were precisely as his incredulous eyes recalled them to be; silent, mysterious, serene, as if the world was unchanged, as if time had not passed at all.
Memories slowly began to stir in the depths of his addled, stunned mind, as if thawing, too, from the crystal frost that had held the rest of his body captive, rapidly dispelling the notion that he was somehow caught up in a dream, a mirage, a waking nightmare. And then all the recollections flooded back at once, like a great, surging, devastating tidal wave.
The trauma of war. Endless bloodshed, destruction and death. Pain. A King and Queen's noble sacrifices. Pain. A tyrant trapped on the summit of Olympus. The sealing of the Titans and a sacred gourd. Yet more horrific, indescribable pain as forbidden workings were cast, spilling blood from parted, suffocating lips that drew their last, ragged breaths.
Watching the light leave a cherished one's eye.
Dragging himself up onto his hands and knees, the newly resurrected panted for air, eyes watering as he grew aware of his limbs once again, the rigidness and discomfort in his body quickly waning as his pounding heart pumped blood to every vessel.
Disturbed, he glanced down, wide eyes taking in the formal, ceremonial raiment that adorned his body, the sword in its jewelled scabbard attached to the belt at his waist. He touched his head, his chest, lifted his hands up to his face for bewildered inspection. There was no blood, not a single scratch upon his clothing or skin, the horrors of war washed away from his physical form - and yet they remained permanently ingrained in his mind, a dark, sinister stain that would never erase.
Reaching up with a shaking hand, he hastily yanked the oppressive onyx and silver mask away from his face, wishing to see his surroundings unhindered, when a strange, prickling, unnerving sensation washed over him. Like a premonition, a sense of déjà vu. His abilities, he recognised, feeling his chakra stirring in response, feeling the power that had been passed to another fleeing back to its original master.
He froze. Why had the function returned to him? What had become of the one who had inherited it?
Questions, so many questions. They hurtled through his mind, confusion throwing his thoughts into a bottomless chasm of turmoil. How was it possible he still possessed a body at all? The last place he recalled being at before everything had faded to black was Tartarus's infernal pit. How was it possible that he breathed, when his life had been tied in trade to a sacred gourd to prevent the Titans from being restored, when an irreversible Death contract had been invoked?
His mind galloped, overwhelmed by its unexpected, rude-awakening, trying desperately to account for the anomaly of his return to life that defied every law of nature, every law of The Fates themselves. But the only answer that met the confounding questions was a disturbing, echoing silence. He did not know, and to one as perceptive as the individual was, not knowing was more terrifying than anything else.
Together with his loyal companion, he had planned without fault for every conceivable outcome. They had made their peace with their sacrifice. He ought not to be alive. Yet there was no mistaking it. Every racing heartbeat punctuated that impossible fact.
Alive, alive, alive.
His existence felt like a violation of destiny. Something must have gone terribly wrong. He could not shift the ominous feeling that weighed in the marrow of his bones, that the only reason he was breathing again was because something unnatural had occurred. Something forbidden. Something that ought not to have been.
Shakily, he rose to his feet, feeling unsteady and displaced, seized by shock as he beheld his surroundings in stunned disbelief. He was home. Tangled thoughts ran into overdrive as he searched the riverbank in dismay. Something felt wrong. He could not afford to waste time ruminating over the hows or whys. If he was alive, if his body had been restored, then what had become of the other life tied to the gourd?
The dread that twisted like a sharpened dagger inside his gut was debilitating. Desperate, seeking eyes roved frantically over his dim, misty surroundings, surmising that the reason he had awoken by Lethe's river was because he must have been buried beneath the waters - a hero's burial judging from the garb he wore. He called out to his companion, both telepathically and out loud, trying to sense whether they were close, but everything was still and silent, and his dread only intensified.
He could not sense their bond. The seeds of the fruit they had exchanged with each other as innocent young children - when they had sworn to always protect one another - the crimson seeds shared by their kind that honoured the bonds of family and love and brotherhood - he could not sense it. Icy fear gripped his heart, and an unfamiliar feeling of panic began to encroach upon him.
If he had somehow been restored- if he had somehow been restored without him, then so help him, he would find The Fates, tear down their temple walls, and-
A faint glimmer suddenly caught his eye on the opposite side of the riverbank, and he watched, with astonished, bated breath, as particles of shimmering, pale-blue crystal dissolved, releasing another unconscious figure upon the shoreline.
He felt it then. The bond. His heart leapt, slamming against his ribcage. Without a second's hesitation, he flew forward, the chakra roaring through his pathways, readily responding to his command, causing him to flicker out of sight in a plume of shadow and onto the opposite side of the river. In a heartbeat he was kneeling by the figure's side, sorrow and pain and a near-crippling sense of relief threatening to devour him whole as he slipped his arm underneath their shoulders, lifting them up from the cold, hard ground.
The figure's head fell limply back, a long train of midnight hair spilling to the ground behind them. His eyes, well-accustomed to the shadows, could see how pale from cold the figure was, and he reached down, removing the gilded black mask from a familiar, beloved face he had thought he would never see again. They were dressed in formal, regal attire, their features unchanged, save for the alarming socket from which their eyeball had been gouged out. It had healed, was no longer bleeding, yet it was still greatly distressing for him to behold.
Shaking the figure gently, he called to them in tones of concern, his heart drumming as he willed them to awaken. The breath stilled in his lungs as he watched lips part to take their first quiet breath. The figure stirred at last as the colour slowly returned to their complexion, and a single, long-lashed eye opened. Dazed. Disorientated. As displaced and alarmed as he had been upon first waking. When they took in a shuddering, shallow breath, as if they could not fill their lungs with air fast enough, he turned their face firmly back toward him, willing them to breathe. Reassuring them that they were safe and well. That he was with them, and that they were alive.
Recognition flickered within a charcoal iris as it came to rest upon his face. His throat constricted with emotion at the pain, confusion and open fear he saw in that eye, a moment of raw, unguarded emotion that the individual rarely allowed to surface. He carefully assisted his companion to sit up, and a long, stunned silence followed, in which he watched them look down at their hands in disbelief, at the riverbank around them, then again at him, as if he were a ghost.
He saw the endless questions swimming in that gaze, mirroring his own. He saw the moment dreadful clarity returned, accompanied by recollections of every horror and hardship they had endured together. The Death contract seals they had cast as instructed to them. The way they had felt their blood boiling inside their veins, the pressure of their own demises crushing down upon them.
Lips parted to speak his name - when they both sucked in a sharp breath as vivid memories suddenly streaked through their mind. Not their own, but images projected to them by the one that they swiftly realised was responsible for the air they were breathing, for the hearts now beating inside their chests.
His companion sucked in a sharp breath, gaze glazing over, as if seeing through the eye of another, somewhere far away. Their crow summon, he realised. He reached out, gripping onto his companion's shoulder, and was immediately permitted to see what they saw.
A throne-room in ruin. Prone bodies. Including Hecate, and a rose-haired maiden.
They both froze as a petrified form then flashed across their vision. Encased in stone, lying upon the ground. Devoured by a most sinister curse.
Their confusion was at once discarded, replaced with frightening wrath and concern for the welfare of one whom they both loved deeply, the dire urgency of the situation, of the calamity that had come to unfold, passed to them by the fading chakra of the very one who had resurrected them.
His companion, whose chakra was directly linked to the crow that waited in the Underworld's throne-room, commanded their summon to turn its gaze over the rest of its surroundings. The crow's eye obediently showed them a floating, newly reformed blade, awaiting the call of its Master's hand, before coming to rest on a figure frozen in place before the royal throne.
An intruder, they realised. An usurper.
The roaring instinct to protect overruled all uncertainty, all fear, all disbelief and disorientated, shocked thoughts, overriding everything else. Infuriated, his companion wasted no time in remotely commanding the blade to strike down its target without mercy. The sword spun abruptly in the air, changing direction, and immediately shot forward to obey.
~x~
"Sasuke."
A velvet-rich voice glided smoothly over Sasuke's overloaded senses, the sound of it a soothing balm, like the embracing, comforting cloak of dark night, like the sound of home. Wide, haunted eyes tracked Itachi's movements as the former Crown Prince to the Underworld's throne slowly walked forward, drawing to a stop beside their taller cousin. The spectacular ballroom surroundings had all but disappeared around Sasuke, his vision honed in and solely fixated upon his kin. As if he dared not blink for fear that they might vanish and be taken from him again.
"He looks as though he has seen an apparition," Shisui remarked, wincing sympathetically at the shell-shocked expression on Sasuke's face. "I suppose we would appear to be as such, considering the circumstances."
Sasuke shook his head, failing to find any humour in what was a thoroughly overwhelming and emotionally distressing situation. He took one unthinking step backwards, no longer aware of his own bearings.
"Are you well?" Shisui peered closely at him in concern, noting how dreadfully pale he looked. "Perhaps it would be better for you to sit?" He gestured vaguely in the direction of the piano bench, the closest furniture to them.
But Sasuke ignored the considerate suggestion, though his legs did feel precariously weak and unstable beneath him. As if he were standing on cracking ice, and not solid ground.
"This isn't possible," he whispered to himself, willing his body to cease its tremoring - to no avail. He did not care that they could see it, that the tear streaks on his face were in plain sight, and that his anguish was palpable. "You perished. Sealing the gourd, you..." The rest of his words trailed off.
Shisui exchanged a brief, unreadable glance with Itachi, before responding grimly, "Rest assured, Sasuke, we were equally as astonished to discover ourselves to be living as you are."
Sasuke shook his head, unable to comprehend the words. It could not be real. He must have spoken the words aloud, for he suddenly became aware of a firm hand gripping his shoulder. Flinching, he broke out of his daze to realise that Shisui had closed the gap between them and was standing right in front of him.
Up close, he could see the lighter flecks of steel in his cousin's dark irises. Heavy-lidded, cat-like eyes peered into his, bright and wise and full of life.
"This is no dream or illusion," Shisui said. "What you see before you is quite real."
The hand that gripped Sasuke's shoulder lifted and hesitated, as if Shisui was afraid that any sudden movement might startle Sasuke or send him bolting from the room. Then, slowly, carefully, a warm palm slipped behind the nape of Sasuke's neck, pressing against his hair.
"Do not suppose for a minute that this is any less shocking to us than it is for you," Shisui said gently, eyes trailing over Sasuke's features, studying them intently, the way one who had not seen their dear kin for an eternity might.
"We did not think we would ever come back. If there are unknown consequences attached to our unexpected return that mean our time here is only temporary, then we cannot afford to waste it. It is good to see you again, Sasuke."
With those words, he was enveloped in a firm hug. The air fled from Sasuke's lungs, and every inch of him froze, thoroughly caught by surprise. Shisui was warm and solid and real. Not a spirit. Not a hallucination, or a figment born of Sasuke's deepest wishes. Real.
His heart galloped uncontrollably. The breaths began to escape his lips in rapid bursts once more.
Real. They were real. They were not dead.
The acknowledgement finally released his limbs from the shackles of their prison, and tension seeped from his body like an uncoiled spring. With shaking hands, Sasuke reached up and gripped tightly onto the sides of his cousin's black-brocade tunic, as if to anchor himself to reality. Closing his eyes, he was overwhelmed with a flooding surge of emotion as he breathed in Shisui's familiar scent. Dark musk and mist, warm earth and smoke. He smelled of the life Sasuke had thought forever lost.
"Breathe. Be at ease," Shisui murmured, patting his kin's back affectionately, reassuringly. Then, with a hint of amusement, "I would hate to have to put you to sleep again if you lost your wits."
Sasuke swallowed thickly as his cousin drew away, dragging his stunned gaze back to Itachi, who was standing where Shisui had left him, quietly observing the exchange, the beginnings of a soft, wistful, barely perceptible smile dancing upon his lips. It quickly waned as he met Sasuke's eyes again.
Sasuke felt his heart constrict. He wanted to run to him. To throw his arms around his brother, to feel that he, too, was warm and real. But they had not shared affectionate embraces freely since the days of Sasuke's childhood, when Sasuke recalled being bundled and carried in his brother's secure arms or up on his shoulders often. As they had grown, the displays of brotherly affection had become less frequent, replaced by irritating forehead pokes and fleeting touches on Sasuke's back or shoulder. Itachi had always been more reserved in his nature, and did not initiate physical contact and displays of affection the way Shisui did so casually and easily. And so Sasuke found himself holding back, though there was nothing more he wanted in the world at that moment than to embrace and be held by his older sibling.
His eyes darted between the two incredulously as Shisui took another step back, giving Sasuke space to process their unexpected return.
"How…?" The word was hoarse with emotion as he struggled to envisage the impossible turn of events that had unfolded in the time he had been rendered unconscious following the Curse Seal's possession of his body. "Your lives- they were tied to the gourd. You died. Chiyo told me-"
His sentences came out jumbled to his own ears. Disjointed. He was still struggling to process the shock of seeing them standing before him, of being able to speakto them, and did not believe for a moment that the cut-throat Fates would ever be so benevolent as to willingly restore them to him.
"The Lady Hecate is dead," Itachi informed him quietly. His eyes lowered, concealed by a long tangle of thick, dark lashes, as if to hide the fact that her passing saddened him greatly.
The revelation hit Sasuke like a jarring blow to the midsection, winding him all over again.
After a long moment of stunned silence, he got out with some difficulty, "What?"
"She passed on defending the throne, to keep Obito from ascending it," Shisui explained, looking regretful. "When we awoke beside Lethe's banks, her final memories were conveyed to us by the same chakra she used to reform the gourd and trade her life to restore ours."
Dead. An awful stillness befell Sasuke. Then it had not been an illusion, or a dream. He truly had submitted to the petrification - only to be saved by Chiyo, who must have arrived after he had lost himself to the Curse, and sacrificed herself to save his realm.
A deep stab of pain radiated from a deeply concealed chamber in his heart, one that Sasuke had never even consciously acknowledged he'd held for the ancient goddess. A sudden, dull heaviness weighed upon his chest, born of the upsetting news of Chiyo's unexpected demise. For all her infuriating tendencies and faults, she had never once been beyond reach, or left him alone. She had always been there, had relocated to the Underworld following the war to keep an eye on him, to fulfil the promise she had made to Itachi to watch over him and to ensure his survival.
But she was gone. Sasuke felt furious, the cascading flood of anger finally quelling the tremors that had been afflicting his body. He felt cheated. He felt numb. She had been taken from him without warning, snuffed out like an extinguished fire, and the last time they had spoken, he had been furious with her. Guilt festered like a gaping wound within him, infecting him with deep, stomach-clenching remorse. That she had laid down her life to not only keep his kingdom from falling into ruin, but also restored two of the people he loved most in the world. The thought of never seeing her again was difficult to accept.
"We grieve for her loss," Shisui said quietly. "She was exceptional in both wisdom and wit, and showed us every kindness. We have temporarily placed her body in a casket in the throne-room. We thought you might like to pay your respects before we pay her the same honour she did us, and give her to Lethe."
Sasuke's eyes lowered. His hands closed into fists.
"I can see that you cared for her," said Shisui gently. "We are glad to know that she was here with you. Even in death, she has kept her word, and ensured you are not alone."
Sasuke tensed, the guilt now a raging chasm that threatened to engulf him. Little did his kin know they had not parted on the best of terms. Concern skipped through his veins. Chiyo had also held one of the most important functions of all of the gods. How was it possible that she had perished, and what would become of her gifts? He supposed that was a problem for The Fates to solve, and doubted that his brother or cousin would be any wiser than he was as to the implications of her demise.
He lifted his gaze again, his anger over Chiyo's death grounding him, helping him to think more clearly. "Tell me what happened."
Shisui nodded. "With her sacrifice, temporary barriers were also erected over the entrance points of the kingdom, barring all entry into the realm." His eyebrows furrowed slightly in contemplation as he folded his arms across his chest. "We are not certain of the manner of seal Lady Hecate may have used to achieve this. Under ordinary circumstances, only the Crown can place the kingdom into lockdown, but it is possible that she projected a large enough concentration of her own chakra to the entrance points to summon her own magical barriers."
"You will need to fortify them, Sasuke," Itachi advised. "It would appear that Lady Hecate's wards were intended to endure only for the duration that you remained unconscious."
"Indeed," Shisui agreed. "When we patrolled the realm shortly before you awoke, all her barriers were gone. We placed our own shadow-walls at the entrance points while you recovered. They will detect any attempts by the enemy to breach the kingdom, but as Itachi has said, it would be wise to place the kingdom under lockdown while we work together to understand what has happened."
The notion of working together with them was surreal. Countless questions were zipping around in Sasuke's head. So many that he did not know which to voice first. He had always yearned to speak with his kin in person, and now that they stood before him, he found himself struck speechless, entirely disarmed by the auras of their combined presence - dark and painfully familiar and electrifying and calming all at once.
It was too late for anger and accusations. Sasuke knew what they had done, and all the reasons why they had chosen to take the actions they had. It was too late for regrets. They had all been given an unexpected second chance, against all laws and what they knew to be possible. He could not waste time holding onto the hurt of a past that could not be changed, not when he had them with him again in the present, more than he had ever hoped or dreamed was possible.
"When we happened upon you in the throne room, you were already consumed by the serpent's Curse Seal and had lost your left eye." Shisui was going on. "We dealt with Obito, and waited for Orochimaru to show himself. As expected, it did not take that greedy snake long to make his appearance. Itachi sealed him away and freed you of the Curse Seal. We placed you on the throne to heal you, but you remained unconscious for quite a while."
At the unspoken question on Sasuke's face, he added, "Itachi transplanted the crow's eye to you, as that is most compatible, while I gave him one of mine. Though he took some convincing to accept it, and only relented when I told him he would look ridiculous and ill-suited to parading around like a one-eyed pirate." He flicked a pointed glance at his cousin.
Itachi speared him with a mildly unamused look. "You are mistaken. I agreed only because we had procured a readily available replacement."
Shisui sighed. "That is so, but look," he pointed at Sasuke's bewildered face. "He is far more intrigued by my version of affairs. A little imagination does not hurt, Itachi."
"We need not overwhelm him any further."
Shisui shot him an unimpressed glance. "I see you have awoken with even less humour than you possessed before, cousin."
"It is fortunate then," Itachi replied mildly, his gaze resting on his brother's face. "That you have enough for us both."
Shisui's eyebrows arched in surprise. "By Elysium! Was that sarcasm?"
Itachi said nothing further. When a confused Sasuke merely looked back and forth between them, Shisui turned his attention back to him, and flashed him a disarming grin.
"Ah. You are perhaps wondering how I have both eyes, after giving your good brother one of mine." He tapped a fingertip against his left temple. "This is one of Obito's. We could not pass up the opportunity to wield Kamui. It only seems fair that he shares, since we are to assume that he is the one who took your eye, is that not so?"
Sasuke continued to stare at them in silent astonishment, stunned by the impact they'd already had since returning to life. Sealing away Orochimaru, curing Sasuke of the blight of the Curse Seal, restoring his eyesight, incapacitating Obito and gouging out one of his Sharingan in cold retribution for the same injury he had inflicted upon Sasuke. Ever efficient and calculating, and armed with the element of surprise, they had not wasted any time robbing the enemy of two of his most important resources.
It was no wonder that Madara had commanded the pair to be watched closely at all times. Sasuke did not feel like he could afford to take his own eyes off them, either, and he felt that way being on the same side.
Finally Sasuke found his treacherous voice again. "How was Chiyo able to restore your lives? The seal you wove was a Death Contract."
"It was," Shisui agreed. "Or so we thought. It was Zeus who taught us the combination, but we believe that there is the possibility…"
"That he may have informed Lady Hecate of the way to reverse it," Itachi finished.
Sasuke's lips parted. It appeared that they still retained their uncanny ability to complete each other's sentences. "But Chiyo said it was irreversible."
"That is so," Shisui raised a dark brow. "At least, the correct Death Contract would have been. It would appear, however, that our old friends Zeus and Hera may have instead chosen to teach us a variation of the original. That is the only plausible explanation we have been able to come up with between us. One or more of the seals may have been altered, resulting in a contract with similar overall effects - but one that could be reversed in the event that the seal was ever tampered with."
Sasuke was staggered. "Is that possible…?"
"We did not know it to be," Itachi replied solemnly. "We had never before cast such workings."
"We can only speculate as to what happened," Shisui admitted. "These are complex surface workings, Sasuke, sacred, forbidden arts passed down by the most ancient of lineages. Some surface seals cannot be cast by shadow-dwellers and some Underworld workings cannot be used by surface-folk. There is much dark and light magic in the world, and a great deal still undiscovered. But we are certain our souls were bound to that of the Titans and cast to death."
"Then if it was altered, that means the seal did not truly work as intended?" Sasuke pressed.
"It did. We felt our deaths." Shisui frowned lightly. "Tell us, how many years have now passed since the war?"
"Over two thousand," Sasuke supplied.
"Tartarus be damned," Shisui uttered, exchanging a shocked glance with Itachi. "Two thousand years!" Looking back at Sasuke, he shrugged, "Well. As you can clearly see, it worked precisely as intended, keeping those half-wit Titans locked up for over two millennia. Yet the action of restoring them must have somehow allowed the seal we cast to be reversed. A kind of failsafe, if you will, perhaps to…" He gestured vaguely, thinking out loud. "To return us to life also, in the event that the Titans were ever unleashed again? Who knows."
In a mutter, he added beneath his breath for Itachi's ears alone, "It certainly sounds like the clever sort of trick Hera and Zeus would pull; they never approved of our plan to suicide to begin with, and perhaps they thought to enrage Madara one final time."
"Indeed," Itachi murmured back, holding no doubt that the war-mongering patriarch of their clan would be furious to discover that he and Shisui had been revived along with the Titans. Like an unpleasant, unwanted, surprise gift.
Turning back to Sasuke, Shisui went on, "But it seems that the act of reversing the seals we wove was not enough to bring us back. Something more powerful had to be given, and Lady Hecate was three entities in one form."
Words Chiyo had spoken to him and Sakura in her hut drifted through Sasuke's memory.
'I am not one, but three. I am a gatekeeper to the past, of hopes and dreams and of innocence lost. I am the guide and protector of the present. And I am the ward and teacher that watches the future. One face I possess for each thread of time. Six eyes that look in all directions at the cross-roads of The Moirae.'
His heart thudded painfully against his ribcage as he contemplated the words. Had Chiyo used her abilities to defy the laws of her function and somehow used her connection to The Fates to manipulate time's flow? Had she looked far back in time and found where his brother and cousin's threads of life had ended, and then used her own life-force to restore them, thus returning them to the ever-unravelling paths of the Crossroads? Had doing that somehow forced their spirits back from whatever void they had been lost in?
Sasuke supposed there was no way they would ever know for certain. Not unless The Fates deigned to tell them. And he had the inkling that they were probably in no mood to do so. Surely they had to be incensed. After all, Chiyo had taken serious actions without their permission, the ramifications of which had the potential to throw the course of the future itself wildly off balance.
"Restoration never comes without a cost, and Lady Hecate had to surrender her own life in order to return ours from the void. And how exactly she managed that…" Shisui shrugged, perplexed. "It must have involved a defiance of her function to result in her own demise. A manipulation of the laws of time itself. However, she managed it, I cannot imagine her Mistresses are too pleased with her sacrifice."
Sasuke's expression darkened. The Moirae. Turning his burning gaze to Itachi, he said angrily, "I know The Fates gave you Totsuka, and I know you accepted their Mark to protect me."
Surprise - and something bordering on alarm - flickered across both Shisui and Itachi's faces at the abrupt disclosure. The looks were quickly schooled into indifference, as Shisui questioned casually, "And what know you of The Fates, Sasuke?"
"I know they choose servants amongst gods to act in their stead, and that you, Zeus and Hera were bound in service to them. I know everything about the past, everything you did and kept from me."
"Is that so?" Shisui murmured, holding Sasuke's gaze steadily.
"How came you to learn of Totsuka?" Itachi's voice was soft, deadly quiet. Like the calm stillness that preceded a devastating storm.
The desire to tell them everything - to confess the truth, from the deal he had made with The Moirae to become the new vessel of Chaos, to the eternal slumber that would eventually come to consume him - rested upon the tip of Sasuke's tongue. There had been too many secrets between them for too long, and faced with his cousin and brother's unanticipated return, the last thing he wanted was to keep any more.
They had been servants to The Fates. Had that changed with their deaths? Was he permitted to talk of such things at all with them since they had also carried Marks of their own - or in Shisui's case, been privy to everything that had been going on?
But when he tried to form the words, they would not come. And he recalled that a seal had been placed upon his own tongue. Ensuring that he could never speak, until his assigned task had been fulfilled, and it was too late to do anything to stop Chaos from devouring him.
Both Shisui and Itachi were regarding him intently. Watching him closely. Analysing his expression, his body language. Shisui's Sharingan had the ability to read and influence minds and actions, Sasuke recalled. To pry truths from unwilling tongues, and to hypnotise the senses. He could easily seduce a mind into revealing its deepest secrets, and coerce it into taking actions of his choice, implanting his commands in a manner that made it appear to his victim that they had thought of the idea themselves.
Sasuke knew he could not afford to let those sharp, astute eyes catch onto anything being amiss. He had given his word to The Fates. And his brother and cousin had suffered enough. If they had truly, permanently been restored to life by Chiyo's noble sacrifice, then he would do everything in his power to ensure that they remained that way. If they realised that he had involvement with The Fates - if they saw his Mark and somehow picked up on the Adamantine blade he carried disguised within Kusanagi - he knew they would only seek to intercept, to put their own lives on the line once again to save him. Worse, they would offer to take his place.
He would not allow it, Sasuke thought fiercely to himself. Their resurrection had the power to influence future events, but it did not change the bargain he himself had made. Someone shadow-born still had to seal away and absorb Madara's powers, and he preferred his demise to theirs.
But his kin's return did give him the comfort of knowing that Sakura would not be left entirely alone in his realm. That any future child they had together before The Fates summoned him back to their realm would have the fortune of being raised in the company of two most exceptional uncles.
Their return birthed a new flame of determination within Sasuke, one that blazed with purpose. It was time to give back to Shisui and Itachi that which had been so cruelly robbed from them. A future. More than anyone, they deserved to live.
This time, he vowed, he would be the one to protect them.
"They summoned me to their realm in the midst of battle," Sasuke answered truthfully, not missing the way Itachi's ringed fingers, curled around the ornate hilt of the blade secured to the belt at his waist, tightened at his words. "I was fighting with the Olympians, and about to be sucked into one of Obito's Kamui vortexes. They intercepted."
"They are forbidden to directly intervene," Shisui, who was normally laid-back in his disposition and difficult to rile, looked like he was trying to rein in his anger. "What reason had they to call upon you? Tell us what happened."
Sasuke recounted the Senju cells he had acquired from Madara, the difficult process of awakening the Rinnegan, why he had chosen to pursue the eye and the barrier it had provided to awakening Itachi's Sharingan. He told them of Sakura's attacks, about how he was first infected with the Curse Seal, how Itachi's chakra had saved him the first time the enemy had tried to petrify his body, and about the quest to retrieve the relics, where he had found out the truth about his brother and cousin, and also shared information about Madara's plans, including all the attacks the Titan and his allies had orchestrated against the Olympians. He told them about the bases he had destroyed, and his alliance with the Olympians. Then he told them about losing his sight in battle, and a very small portion of what he had experienced in the realm of The Fates, being as truthful as he could, while omitting details he knew he was forbidden to discuss.
They watched him, listening in grave, intent silence, their expressions giving nothing away as to their thoughts of the many ordeals he had faced.
"So you say they summoned you and showed you those memories in order to stimulate enough emotional trauma to complete the final phase of awakening your Rinnegan," Shisui summarised. "And they told you of Madara's intentions to rewrite history as he sees fit, and that he must be lured into their realm in order for them to seal him away, that the Rinnegan is to be used to open the portal to their dimension? And you say that was all they wanted from you?"
Sasuke held their piercing, probing gazes, and nodded.
There was a suffocating pause.
"Sasuke." Shisui's sculpted features shifted into something hard. Unyielding. A serious, warning look that bordered on an unsettling coldness that Sasuke could not recall Shisui directing at him ever before. "I will ask you again. You are telling us that this is all The Fates wanted from you? They offered you no weapon, you did not accept anything from them?"
Sasuke was at that moment reminded of just how terrifyingly shrewd and perceptive the pair were. It was difficult - almost nigh impossible - to slip anything past their notice, to keep anything hidden from them. After all, these were the two remarkable deities who had outsmarted Madara himself.
The unnerving feeling of their intense, skewering gazes blistering right through him, as if burning holes open in his mind that were capable of exposing and extracting every lie, caused his skin to prickle with discomfort, caused his heart to thump harder inside his chest, but Sasuke resolutely held his ground. He was no longer the awed child helplessly under their thrall, accepting of every word and decision they made. He was the Underworld's King, and they were equals. The Fates would have made sure that both his mind and his tongue could not be made to betray his bargain. And Shisui and Itachi had already sacrificed so much of themselves for him. He would not allow them to give anything else.
Being careful to steel his emotions and regulate his pulse and chakra flow, he answered, "They asked me to lure Madara to their realm. The rest, they will see to."
"..." Itachi's eyes searched Sasuke's, his expression stoic, utterly indecipherable. Then they swept down to the floor, and he murmured quietly, "I see."
Shisui's eyes slid to his right. Not quite looking at Itachi. Then the strange moment passed, for he turned his attention back to Sasuke, moving the conversation along. "If the Titans have been revived, then that would mean Madara has acquired at least seven tailed beasts."
"Eight," Sasuke said. "Obito held them all, then transferred all but one to the gourd."
"Then Obito is little more than a puppet." Itachi remarked. "Who is left?"
"Naruto," Sasuke informed them.
Shisui blinked. "Apollo? Hmm. They will be going after him next."
"What did you do to Obito?" Sasuke questioned.
"Ah. Yes. The traitor." Shisui's dark eyes narrowed. "He is presently unconscious, enjoying a long, nightmare-fuelled nap."
"We have sealed off his chakra and placed him in the dungeons," Itachi replied.
"And we intend to interrogate him," Shisui added. "But before that, we wish to hear your account of what happened, and what exactly Obito's arrangement with Madara is. We know only as much as what Lady Hecate encountered in the throne-room. Come. Walk with us and tell us what else we have missed."
Together they exited the ballroom, and made their way back to the throne-room. As Sasuke filled them in on the details of recent surface events and how Obito had infiltrated the Underworld, and answered their questions about his knowledge of the past, he did not miss the way the surprised servants gaped at his brother and cousin when they strode by them. Many of them had not served the royal family since the days of the war, and he could see the clear confusion in the gazes they tried - and failed - to keep from staring. And yet every single one of them seemed to sense, to know, that they were in the presence of nobility.
The servants who had loyally remained in Sasuke's service released gasps of astonishment from afar as they spotted the two unmasked princes, but were too awed and afraid to approach them, as if they, too, were looking upon walking apparitions. When Sasuke asked his kin about why they were not wearing the masks, Shisui's response was that they hated them, and it had been Cronus who had commanded them to wear them at all times as a means to allow his spies to easily distinguish them amongst the rest of the court nobility in the Underworld, as well as to inconvenience the pair with a constant, stifling barrier worn upon their faces. For no reason other than Madara wishing it.
Shisui added that there was no practical reason for them to wear the masks inside their own realm. The only place they actually needed to wear them was when they appeared before mortals - or in the presence of other deities whom they did not wish to see or know their faces while feigning loyalty to Cronus.
They entered the majestic throne-room, and Sasuke found that it contained no evidence of any struggle that Chiyo might have suffered. Everything had been cleaned up and was in perfect order, as if it all had been a faraway dream. And if it was a dream, Sasuke told himself that he never wanted to wake up, if it meant walking in the secure company of his brother and cousin again.
They drew to a stop by a transparent glass casket that was positioned between two pillars, resting on an ornate frame of gold. Within it lay Hecate, wrapped in white robes, surrounded by midnight blooms, her time-worn hands resting upon her chest. She looked free from all burdens. At peace. As if she were merely sleeping.
Sasuke stared regretfully down at her. His throat and chest burned, as incessant guilt once again gnawed at him. Reaching out, he pressed his fingertips against the glass. And in his heart, he thanked her for protecting his realm, for coming to his and Sakura's aid, and for the gifts of his kin that she had so selflessly returned to him, silently conveying words he could not speak out loud.
She had valiantly given her life to stop Obito's ascension, and had made the quick assessment that reviving Shisui and Itachi would have a greater impact upon destiny and upsetting the enemy's plans than her continued existence. Restoring them had allowed Sasuke to be saved from eternal enslavement by Totsuka's blade. Restoring them had ensured that Obito could no longer ascend. The throne would not accept him, with two other shadow-dwellers, including one directly in the rightful line of succession, available again. Sasuke was grateful, and vowed to honour her sacrifice.
"You asked her to watch over me," he said to Itachi.
"Yes," came the quiet response.
"May her soul rest in peace," Shisui murmured. "Her sacrifice will not be in vain. We will do everything in our power to fight for the future she laid down her life to protect."
Together they stared down at the casket for another long minute in silence.
"I understand," Sasuke said at last, unable to tear his eyes away from Chiyo's prone form, almost as if he were directing the words at her. "Why you took the actions you did. Why you could not tell me of the decisions you had to make. I do not agree with all the choices you made. Yet I understand why you made them, and I know there were times when you were given no alternatives."
He turned away from Chiyo, to face his kin again. Lifting his chin, he said firmly, "But from this point on, we will be open with each other. No more lies. You involve me in everything you do, and we discuss all strategies together."
Shisui angled his head. "Is that a request? Or an order from our sworn King?"
The words stirred another realisation in Sasuke's mind. He had not noticed it before in the commotion of emotion and shock - but it hit him like a lightning bolt at that very second. He could not feel the familiar, incessant pull of souls calling to him from the surface. The absence of that awareness was strange. Unsettling. Like a pressure had been removed from his mind, leaving only silence. It was almost liberating. And he knew it could only mean one thing.
His gaze fixed onto Itachi. "You have your abilities back."
His brother wordlessly inclined his head.
"Yes," Shisui confirmed. "You were still trapped in stone when we were revived, unable to perform your function. As we were fully restored, your abilities returned to their original masters. We placed you on the throne to heal, so you are still King of this realm, and possess every power that the Crown affords, but regrettably, there is no way for us to return Death and Sleep to you." He paused, rubbing a hand thoughtfully against his chin. "Well," he amended with a hint of irony. "Unless someone else far too clever for their own good would like to trick us into another death-like sleep for the next two thousand years. It seems cruel that my very function was used against me. As was yours," he nodded at Itachi.
Sasuke's eyes narrowed, and he shot his cousin a sour look. "How can you jest about it?"
Shisui gave him a languid shrug. "I suppose it is a more attractive alternative to being furious about it. It is not all so bad. We have been reunited with you." He then gestured to the throne, expression growing solemn once more.
"We toured the Kingdom while you recovered. You have grown into a fine ruler, Sasuke. We had no doubts that you would bring prosperity and wisdom to the throne. My Aunt and Uncle would be proud."
The acknowledgement spread over the hurt in Sasuke's heart like a balm, but he did not know how to answer the praise. He felt his brother's heavy-lashed gaze resting on him, and when he turned his head to meet his eyes, saw that they were filled with such deep sorrow and profound regret, that it cut Sasuke to the quick.
"Forgive me, Sasuke," he murmured, and Sasuke knew he was referring to the deaths of their parents. The lives he'd had no choice but to take with his own hands. Blood he had spilled that would haunt him forever, a guilt he would carry eternally with him.
Something caved in and severed inside Sasuke's chest, as he thought of all the immense pain Itachi had endured for him. Of all the fear, the unspeakable horrors he had faced, the impossible trials and decisions, the crushing pressure, the suffering, the unhappiness and isolated loneliness he had borne so patiently - for his sake. From childhood, to adolescence, to the early years of deity adulthood - Itachi had held on for him, throwing away all his own hopes for a future, making it his sole ambition to ensure his little brother's survival.
It was a depth of love purer than anything Sasuke had ever known. And he thought he saw it at that moment, looking into his brother's guarded gaze. The pain of concealed affection. He had suffered for love, forced to make the impossible choice of murdering his own parents for it, because the alternative - to allow Sasuke's death - had been too unbearable. And yet he thought he owed Sasuke an apology? When he himself had been just as much a victim, when Sasuke was the cause for all his struggles, and was the root reason why Itachi had chosen to seal his own life away?
Sasuke remembered the cruel vision Madara had shown him on Olympus, of Itachi crippled by sorrow and guilt, broken and weeping and brought to his knees in the cavern where he had claimed their parents' lives, holding his unconscious little brother in his arms, clutching him close and sobbing uncontrollably against his shoulder.
His heart bled. Itachi had been forced to grow up far too fast. And while he had done everything in his power to allow Sasuke every precious freedom he'd had before the war - who had done the same for him? Not even Shisui had been able to protect him. He had only been able to offer him the comfort of companionship, so that he did not feel so alone.
And as he thought of all those things, Sasuke forgot, then, all about his uncertainties, about any hesitations or second-thoughts he'd had in the ballroom. Itachi stood before him. The brother he had spent his early life adoring and idolising, and then centuries mistakenly despising, the brother he had never truly stopped loving, only to learn had been the most selfless of heroes, not only to Sasuke, but to all the three kingdoms. Valiant, noble, gentle, a quiet, humble enigma who had been wielded as a weapon by The Fates themselves - because they had seen his true worth. That his heart held not hate within it, but love. Which made him unafraid to throw himself dauntlessly into Hell for the ones he loved most. Unafraid to allow others to believe he was a monster, for that was what he was willing to become - a cold, calculating, ruthless slaughterer who walled off every single emotion he felt - for the sake of peace. For the sake of his little brother.
Sasuke stepped resolutely to him, and without another word, slipped his arms around his brother's shoulders, drawing him in close. He felt Itachi tense in astonished surprise - heard him release a quiet breath. Then, gingerly, almost as if afraid that his touch would cause Sasuke to pull away, almost as if afraid he was not worthy of such affection at all - he raised his arms and wrapped them around his little brother in turn.
It was the healing that Sasuke had long given up hope of ever receiving. A flood of warm emotion cascaded through his body, and his heart, tattered and mended anew, felt so full he was certain that it would burst. A feeling so foreign, so satisfying, so wonderful, he was almost afraid to bask in it. Fresh, hot tears welled in his eyes, and he squeezed them shut, scarcely registering that he was shaking again. And he was not the only one. Fine tremors were running through the arms that held him, too, and when they felt him trembling, they held tighter. Protecting him, even then.
And as he breathed in the comforting scent of warm-spice, woodsmoke and faint pine that clung to the raven feathers attached to the high-collar of his brother's cloak, Sasuke thought that perhaps Itachi had needed the embrace even more than he did.
Shisui's expression softened at the sight. Smiling, he remained respectfully silent, watching as the brothers clung tightly to one another. They did not let go for a long time, the fierceness of their shared embrace communicating all the words and all the sincere, mutual sentiments that they could not and dared not speak to each other out loud.
~x~
It felt to Karin that her heart had plunged straight through her feet, into the murky waters that had flooded the village, and been carried along the current to be swept out into the sea. She blinked up at the figure perched on top of the remains of the wall opposite to the one she had been leaning against, her bewildered gaze taking in one long, lean, drawn up leg, the smoothly muscled arm that rested casually upon its knee.
Her eyes widened, growing as round and large as saucers. It was impossible. She told herself it was the glare of the sun that was causing her to hallucinate so wildly. There was no conceivable way that Poseidon himself sat there, peering down at her with eyes that were more luminous, more brilliant than any shade of amethyst she had ever seen.
Back rod-straight, she turned stiffly and began to walk away. Not daring to look back. Not daring to breathe. The heart that had been flung into the oceans was all at once back inside her chest, thundering, hurtling, and her legs- her damned, stupid legs felt like jelly beneath her, like she herself was turning to liquid.
"I get it," the phantom Suigetsu's voice called. "I wouldn't want to talk to me either after my royal screw up. I'm the reason innocent people died here, and why your new home's turned to shit. I admit it. I fucked up."
It wasn't real, she kept repeating to herself. The real Suigetsu would never admit that he was wrong. The real Suigetsu was dead.
"Okay," his voice spoke again, when she did not stop moving away. Karin's stomach lurched. Why was the freak mirage still speaking? Had she suffered from sun-stroke? What was wrong with her? "Okay, I get that you're mad. I totally expected you to be mad. But if you could just stop for one sec, I'll-"
"It's not real," she said aloud. "You're dead. I'm not really hearing this."
"Now you're just being stupid," the voice scoffed. "Ghosts don't just show up on the surface and start haunting people. Didn't you live with them for centuries? They don't get a pass out of Sasuke's gloomy dump of a realm. And if I was a ghost, why the fuck would I come back to haunt you? Wouldn't it make more sense if I go after Lord Crap Ass and his merry band of freaks? Because let me tell ya, that's who I really wanna kill right now."
To her growing alarm, he was starting to sound more and more like the original, authentic, unbearable asshole Poseidon. But Karin still did not dare to turn back. She had never wanted anything to do with him before, and she definitely did not want anything to do with his ghost.
"Okay, now you're pissing me off. You can't just ignore me, what the fuck? Don't you have anything to say? At least yell at me. Tch. You realise I could just scoop you straight back up here, right?"
She stomped on, wading through the water, but almost fell right back into it when the apparition appeared in a flurry of liquid ripples before her eyes. Suigetsu stood scowling at her, his hair shining like moonlight, his eyes sparkling like stars in the sun, and Karin's heart jumped to her throat.
"You're dead," she choked out, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I saw you die!"
He lifted an index finger. "Actually, I was about to die, but instead of devouring my remains, Samehada slurped me up like a puddle and used its own chakra to preserve me in liquid form long enough for that old bag Hecate to stitch me up again."
Karin saw red. Whichever higher being found amusement in tormenting her in such a way, she would not stand for it. She was done with the gods, all of them. Chest heaving, she drew a fist back and slammed it straight into the imposter's face.
Instead of connecting with cold water, her knuckles struck against the solid bone of Suigetsu's strong jaw. He winced, clenching and unclenching the muscles there as he rubbed a palm across the throbbing area.
Karin froze. He was solid, warm and real - and he had just let her land a hit.
"Heh." His lips smirked, but his eyes were burning as they all but devoured her whole. "You really do punch like a bitch, you know that? Who're you trying to hurt? The fucking tooth fairy?"
"Shut up!" she shrieked, but the words came out wrong, strangled. She could not comprehend that he was standing before her, fully restored. She had truly believed him to be gone forever, had resigned herself to eternal loathing and guilt and anger.
"You died," she repeated nonsensically. "I saw you die! You made me think… you stupid idiot!"
"Wait-" His eyes widened. "You sound like- were you actually worried about me?"
Karin's cheeks blazed with a sudden heat that mortified her. "O-of course not! I just- I thought it was my fault you died! That everyone in the oceans would blame me and-! You pulled that stupid move saving me, and I couldn't even return the favour!"
Instead of teasing her, or jibing at her any further, Suigetsu fell uncharacteristically silent. His purple eyes darkened as he watched her eyes well with tears. Tears that she was furious and ashamed that he was witnessing. She turned her back to him, blinking the water out of her eyes, struggling to calm her racing heart, to compose herself, to absorb the fact that the idiot had been saved by his own stupid, cherished sword. The irony of that fact was ludicrous. She might have laughed, if she didn't feel so upset.
"Yeah. I thought I was a goner, too," he admitted quietly. "Guess Samehada likes me more than I thought, because it came back to me, too." He tapped the handle of the large, bandaged sword strapped to his back. Then he turned his gaze away, surveying the damage to the village.
"Y'know what the shittiest thing was?" he said, surprising her by changing the subject entirely. "Those bastards controlling me let me see what I was doing when I did it. I saw those waves crash down. And there wasn't a thing I could do to stop it."
Karin removed her glasses, wiping hastily at her eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned back to face him, wary and on edge. She didn't like the way her heart was hurtling so fast in his presence. It had no reason to. It was being irrational, and as idiotic as Poseidon was.
"What're you doing here?" she demanded mistrustfully.
"Don't sweat it," he replied, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm only passing through here to clean up my own mess. And after I help drain the streets and get the villagers started on rebuilding this place?" His expression darkened, growing more serious than Karin ever recalled seeing it before. "I'm gonna go hunting. I'll find and drown every fucking monster and ANBU base I can weed out until all of Lord Crap Ass's brainless goons are dead. No more games. He wants a fucking war? He's gonna get one."
Karin stared at him in shock. Suigetsu was about to help people? Just because it was the right, selfless thing to do? Because he felt responsible for the fate of the villagers? He was going to take up arms and fight in earnest against the threat that loomed over the entire world? Instead of running back to hide in safety following his new lease on life, he was going to fight with the other Olympians?
She was even more gobsmacked, when, avoiding her gaze, Suigetsu cleared his throat and muttered awkwardly, "Hey, uh… look. I'm sorry about that family you were shacked up with. If it helps, the cute little kid made it out, and I'll make sure she's set up for life."
Karin released a trembling breath. Koko was alive? Her heart swelled with relief - and she gaped at Suigetsu like he was a stranger.
A long moment of tense silence filled the space between them as he stared right back at her. Then it broke as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
"We'll, guess we'll call it even, huh? A deal's a deal. I'll get outta your hair. You should go find the kid. She's in the next town." Shrugging, he finished with a wave, "See ya."
She watched, stunned, as he turned away, diving gracefully into the waters. And true to his word, began to drain the floods from the village.
~x~
"I see the cooks are still adamant that they will prepare enough food to feed an entire assembly," Shisui remarked, rolling a crispy red grape between his index finger and thumb, before popping it into his mouth.
After leaving the throne-room, the three had entered the banqueting hall to talk further, answering one another's questions about the past and catching up on lost time. It felt surreal to Sasuke to be doing something as simple as dining and conversing with his kin - surreal, yet undeniably precious. He kept watching them, still awed by their return, still half-dreading that they might disappear in smoke. Cherishing every second.
He sat at the head of the table, and accepted the goblet of ambrosia Itachi had just poured for him, before his brother picked up his own. Shisui lounged in a much more casual manner in the chair to his left, legs hooked over the arm-rest.
"You cannot possibly eat all of this alone," Hypnos gestured to the dish-laden table with a sharp dagger he had skewered through a glazed slice of pheasant.
"I do not," Sasuke replied. "The servants are welcome to it."
"That may well be, but we all know they never dare actually take any of it," Shisui chewed thoughtfully on the piece of meat. "Do you recall, Itachi, the servant I once caught eyeing a fig tart? The poor wisp thought she would be dragged to the gallows."
Itachi's eyes shifted to Sasuke. "I recall food oft disappearing from the table."
Sasuke swallowed down his wine, and Shisui released an amused laugh.
"You look like you have not yet quite drunk enough wine to relive Itachi's mortifying recounts of your childhood tendency to crawl beneath tables."
"I do not recall," Sasuke dismissed nonchalantly.
"Little liar," Shisui censured. "A noble ruler does not lie, Sasuke."
"It would seem only his subjects do," Sasuke's dark eyes glittered with open challenge as they met Shisui's over the rim of his goblet.
"Harsh," Shisui lifted his own goblet to his lips. "We did our best to avoid telling you lies. However, I concede we did withhold many truths."
"Hn," Sasuke snorted. There was no difference between the two, in his opinion.
Itachi eyed Shisui across the table, raising a silent, questioning brow at his cousin's unexpected absence of table-manners when he settled more comfortably in his chair and chose to prop the heels of his black-leather boots upon the table's edge.
Shisui caught him staring. "I know that look." He pointed the tip of the dagger at him. "Stop judging me, Itachi. Must you sit so poised, as if we have the ghosts of our entire court, here? Slouch. Relax. Have we not demonstrated impeccable manners ever since the days they were first drilled into our skulls?" At Itachi's perplexed look - as if he was incapable of slouching at all, or as if the very idea of doing so affronted him greatly - Shisui sighed lightly. "Sit as you like, then. If Sasuke does not object to the manner in which I sit, I see no reason why you ought to. Is that not so, your Majesty?"
"Sit as you want, but stop calling me that," Sasuke scowled.
"Why?" Shisui next picked up a slice of cheese. "You are the King, and as so are kings addressed."
Sasuke glowered at him.
"Ah. I see you have perfected the art of the Uchiha glare. Quite compelling, cousin," Shisui observed. "Far fiercer than I recall, truly."
Itachi, who had just lifted his goblet to his lips, barely avoided choking on his drink. Quick to wipe away evidence of any amusement and school his features into perfect indifference when Sasuke shot a suspicious look at him, he murmured, "Leave him be, Shisui."
His tone, however, was resigned, for he knew neither of the two would cease their bickering. Old habits were the hardest to kill, and they had quickly slipped back into a very familiar dynamic.
"Upon my word, I have let him be for over two thousand years. I am saying nothing wrong. Merely offering the correct title to address our most esteemed monarch." He winked at Sasuke, enjoying the friendly game of cat and mouse they were playing.
"Perhaps I should give you a title," Sasuke quipped back.
Shisui flashed him a lazy smile and lifted his goblet in toast. "We already have titles, Majesty. We are your Royal Counsel and Executioners. Why get your kingly hands dirty, when we can do it for you?"
Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Do not coddle me. I have no need for executioners."
"Is that so? Because you've become good at handling things yourself? I confess I am curious to see just how powerful you have become," Shisui remarked. "I wonder whether you can keep up with us, now."
"Say that again in the training dome," Sasuke fired back.
"Is that a challenge, cousin?" Shisui smirked, setting the dagger and his goblet down. "Or an invitation?"
"An assurance."
"You have certainly grown more confident," Shisui toasted his goblet again. "But I will take the liberty to execute Obito on your behalf, regardless. That traitor does not deserve to breathe."
"We may yet find a use for him," Itachi suggested.
"Perhaps. But he has a tailed-beast sealed within him, and the sooner we extract it, the sooner we can delay Madara's plans."
"Madara will notice his absence," Itachi responded.
"As he will notice the absence of the serpent you so ruthlessly disposed of." Drumming his fingers upon the arm-rest of his chair, Shisui tilted his head and questioned, "You said he holds the corpses of Zeus and Hera on the summit, Sasuke?"
"They are encased in crystal," Sasuke confirmed.
"And that he has the Helm of Darkness, too?" Shisui followed. When Sasuke nodded, he hummed in thought. "We will need to get that back. I wonder. Itachi. Let us pay our captive a visit. You are right. We may yet find a use for him. Perhaps we can use him to re-acquire both."
Sasuke set his goblet down. "How do you intend to do that?"
"There must be something they have promised him," Shisui mused, swinging his legs off the table and back onto the floor as he got up from his chair. "True mind control hinges upon manipulating cracks in one's psyche. He must have a weakness we can exploit."
"We will find it," said Itachi, meeting his kin's gaze pointedly.
Shisui nodded. Then to Sasuke, he said, "Leave Obito to us. We will interrogate him, and discover what it is. You have other matters to focus on."
When Sasuke opened his mouth to argue, Shisui reminded him, "I have already kept your Persephone asleep for a long while. Do you wish for me to rouse her before we go? You have the eye you need to remove the seals we placed upon her and will be able to restore her memories at once, although I must warn you; it will not be a pleasant experience for her, and you must be prepared to both comfort her and handle any unexpected reactions."
Sasuke's heart skipped a beat, and his jaw clenched. They had not yet asked him in detail about Sakura, besides enquiring about her general state of health and how far along she was into the duration of her stay in the realm. Shisui had also asked him how they had first come across one another again, and at Sasuke's curt response - that it was not in the manner he and Itachi had probably intended - the subject had swiftly and respectfully been dropped.
In the overwhelming rush and euphoria of having his cousin and brother returned to him, Sasuke realised that he had overlooked something else of great importance entirely.
"Should you require her to be put to sleep again, you need only call upon me." Shisui pushed his chair in. "We will otherwise give you the time and space to resolve this between yourselves, while we see to Obito and other important matters that require our attention. Call to us when you wish for us to return."
"Wait," he said tightly. "What about mine?"
Shisui exchanged a glance with Itachi, and seemed to hesitate, before he slowly responded, "Your memories were sealed so that you might both start anew. I can restore them to you, but… do you think that wise? Is that what you truly want, Sasuke? You will remember everything, both the good - and the bad. The choice is yours, cousin."
"Choose wisely, Sasuke," Itachi advised gently, rising from his seat in turn. "You will recall witnessing the fate that befell her. Your present memories will merge with those of the past, and the burden to your mind will be great, no matter how carefully Shisui reforms the threads."
Sasuke swallowed, trepidation whispering through his veins. He did not need the memories of their past life together to know that he loved Sakura unconditionally, without limits. He had fallen for her all over again. But she was on the cusp of regaining her own memories, and he knew he needed to be fully prepared for whatever trauma came with that. He needed to be able to remember, so that he could reassure her, defend himself, and do whatever else it took to make sure that Sakura would not break.
He had to remember. He wanted to. He wanted to recall the very first time their eyes had met. The first time they had spoken. The first time they had touched. He knew that she had been hurt by him in the past - but he also knew that a lot of it would have been because of Madara and his sinister schemes.
His brother and cousin were both watching him closely, waiting for his answer, anticipating his decision.
Taking a deep breath, Sasuke met Shisui's gaze directly, and without hesitation, said quietly, "Restore them."
There was a pregnant pause, before Itachi questioned, "Are you certain, Sasuke?"
One last chance to back out, to change his mind. But Sasuke pushed his chair back and rose. Walked straight up to his cousin, and stopped directly before him.
"Restore them," he repeated, his tone leaving absolutely no room for debate over the matter.
Shisui searched his gaze, and finding nothing but steely resolve there, released a quiet, resigned sigh, something akin to remorse dancing across his eyes. "Very well, Sasuke. As you wish. Forgive me; this will hurt."
Then he lifted his hands to cup Sasuke's face, holding his head firmly in place as his irises bled to brilliant, luminous crimson.
~x~
Time passed, and yet it felt like no time at all. His mind burned, strewn alight with fire as flashes of memory danced across his eyes, each one more vivid than the last. He saw her, the very first memory he possessed. Kore. At a festival. At a temple. A vision of loveliness and light every single time. Her gifts of life for the first time, being entranced by the sight. The way she managed to elude him in the forest, frustrating him to no end.
He saw her racing with him and Apollo. An orb-chase. Pushing her up against a tree and resorting to scandalous strategies to rob her of her prize. Apollo shoving him away, telling him not to touch her. Feeling jealous of Apollo's close friendship with the goddess, and realising in alarm that he wanted to touch her very much. Not understanding why he would desire such a nonsensical thing, why she had started to invade his thoughts so often.
Taking her onto his chariot. He saw her kneeling by his mother's wilted flower. The awe of watching her restore it to jubilant life.
Dancing in his arms in his mother's garden. Beautiful flowers laced in her long hair. A ribbon, sent to her by one of his hawks. He remembered the first time they had ever touched. The first time his lips had met hers, the sweetest ambrosia he had ever known.
He recalled the music of her breathy laughter. The brightness of her bewitching, gold-green eyes. The way she blushed and giggled in his presence. The way his heart had started to race at the sight of her. How she had shyly held his hand at first, growing progressively bolder. Stolen moments, hidden in the shadows. Secret meetings. Mutual curiosity yielding to scorching, searing, all-consuming passion.
Taking her. Her writhing beneath him. Sighing and moaning his name into the darkness.
More flashes. Intertwined hands. Panting, mingling breaths. Finding Elysium in her arms. Chasing after her through the forests. Sitting up high in the branches of trees, watching the rain together. Speaking of a future they might share. Talking of peace between their kingdoms. Teaching her how to hold a blade. Accepting a bow from her, carved with a symbol that uniquely identified it as her gift. Tumbling down hills. Catching her in his arms, stealing yet more kisses, kisses that had become his craving, his greedy obsession. She had been the Sun amidst the darkness of his life. His Spring. His Persephone.
Thoughts of eloping. Wanting to take her away. Lacking the courage to act upon those thoughts, for he had been young, and so had she, and eternity was a long time for immortals. More flashes of watching fireflies together, her glowing with happiness, mutual bliss and contentment and a peace he had only found again after being united with her in the present.
And then…
Darkness. Pain. Madara's cruel eyes as he questioned him on his relationship with Apollo, and where his loyalties lay. Itachi and Shisui standing silently as Cronus interrogated him, powerless and unable to intervene. The order given, to find and bring the goddess responsible for Spring to him, to force the Olympians and the hesitant Zeus to at last partake in war.
His horror at realising what was about to happen if Madara found Kore. Distancing himself from her. The deep hurt in her eyes as he slowly began to pull away, his mind plagued with thoughts of war and conflict, rejecting her touches, her advances. Every single instant slicing him apart inside. Making him feel like a monster.
The night he had found her waiting for him in a forest, and leaving no doubt that he had no intention of ever seeing her again. Watching her break from the cruelty of his words, wilting like the very flower she had once helped restore for him. She had trusted him. Given him her heart without reservation. She had adored him, a fearless, sincere love. And he had betrayed her. Thrown it all away because he had been selfish, because he had not been careful enough.
The pain of walking away from her for what he had then believed had been the final time. But he had been so foolish. So very naive to think that he alone was capable of protecting her by the simple act of cutting all ties. For Madara had already found her. The way his heart had plunged to his feet in horror when he had seen her in the Underworld's ballroom. The dance they had been forced to share before the entire court. The suffocating guilt. Wanting to speak to her, not daring to do so, because they were watching. All the eyes had been watching, and he could not.
Her words. That she would never forgive him. Knowing that she would despise him for all eternity. Words that had hit him like stones, breaking him to pieces, words he had told himself he had thoroughly deserved, because he had been a coward, choosing to run instead of fighting for her. Had he been in possession of his wits and followed Apollo's instructions to keep his distance, perhaps Kore would never have been discovered. Guilt. Crushing guilt. Her mother had been right to hide her away. For Madara was a monster who had chosen the young goddess as his prey.
Another flash. Pacing his room, restless and distraught. Racking his brain frantically for a way to get her out of the dungeons she had been thrown into. Being terrified of getting caught. Being more terrified of what would happen if he did nothing. Sneaking to her cell. Unlocking it. Urging her to follow him. Her fear and mistrust. Dragging her along behind him. Leading her to a secret exit, and meeting her eyes one final time as she had stepped onto the surface.
Madara's furious eyes as he had caught him. Looking into unfeeling, callous, crimson irises. Feeling his mind being brutally torn apart as the Titan began to steal away his memories. Memories that had meant so much to him. Robbing him of his past.
His heart hurtled. His brain was being incinerated, and somewhere in the distance, he could hear someone screaming. A part of him wondered whether it was his own lungs making those terrible noises, but he could not tell. For the flashes and memories did not stop. They kept flooding in, burning him alive, breaking him apart. It was torture and torment and his right eye was ablaze with pain. But he could not stop it. It would not stop.
Through the haze of agony, distant voices. They sounded angry. They were arguing. Someone was calling his name, frantic.
"Shisui! Enough. Cease this!"
"Hold him still!"
"That is enough!"
"I am not done!"
"Enough! Cease! Or I will make you!"
"If I stop now with part of the seal still intact, it will scar his mind! He wants to remember everything, he commanded it of me! There is only one working left to remove. I said hold him, Itachi!"
Shrivelled grass. Black stains. Devastation. Following a trail of destruction. Finding Kore in agony on the ground. Her body poisoned. Angry black veins marring her once flawless skin. Held in a sobbing, hysterical Aphrodite's arms. Being paralysed by the sight. Feeling the desperate need to help her. Realising that it was already too late.
For she was dying. She was dying, and the pain, the pain, the pain of knowing he had been the one to set her free on the surface, that his actions had damned her to a cycle of rebirth - the smothering, crippling anguish of that fact was all he knew, all he could feel, and as he watched her gasping for her last breaths, something inside him died too, and he could not breathe, he could not breathe, he could not breathe-
He tried to open his eyes. But everything was a sea of agony.
And then - the memories stopped. Darkness began to close in.
"It's done…" A shaky voice said in the distance, even as he felt himself slipping away. "It is done."
~x~
For a long while, he drifted in nothing but emptiness. When he finally began to come back around, the first thing Sasuke was aware of was a ruthless, pounding throbbing in his head. Then the hands that firmly gripped his arms, the solid chest he was slumped back against.
"He is regaining consciousness."
"Sasuke?" A familiar voice murmured behind him. The hands on his arms tightened protectively.
Sasuke felt wetness against his cheeks. With great effort, he began to open his eyes, groggy and disoriented.
He heard a sharp intake of breath.
"By Elysium. That's what it was. I see it." An astonished exhalation. "It's... magnificent."
He blinked, struggling to focus through the blur of tears, his mind swimming, the room spinning. His throat felt sore, his lungs raw. Everything hurt.
"We were correct in our theory," the voice spoke again. Shisui's, he finally comprehended. "Once the first has been awakened, the second really does manifest more rapidly."
A dazed Sasuke did not know what he was talking about. His vision finally cleared, the clarity in the right eye far sharper than the left. He blinked again in confusion, as fresh warmth pooled from his right eye. Not tears. Something thicker.
He lifted a hand to wipe at his face. Pulled his fingers away, stunned to find blood.
A sudden, violent awareness jolted through him, as recollection slammed into him, chasing away the cobwebs in his pulsing skull. Sakura. Sakura. Her name reverberated deafeningly in his mind. He had to go to her.
But as he began to move to do just that, he inhaled sharply, his breaths quickening as he stared at Shisui in confusion.
He could see the chakra aura rippling through his cousin's pathways. Could feel chakra flowing into his right eye, though he had scarcely been conscious of it.
Gentle hands repositioned him to lean back against a wall, and then his brother was peering into his face, too. Itachi's concerned dark eyes widened, seeing what Shisui had seen. Both deities looked stunned as they stared at Sasuke in silence, gazing upon the very thing they had only heard about in legends.
"You've done it, Sasuke," Shisui then breathed in awe. "You have awakened a second Rinnegan."
~x~
Author's Note
One half of our star couple has their memories restored. I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews would be appreciated. There will be a break between this chapter and the next update as I am going to be away for holidays. Thank you for reading.