CHAPTER 14 - KILL
"I don't think I can."
He was staring at that damned picture again.
Right at her.
Sasuke sighed. Shifting on his bed, he let the frame hang in his grasp, finally turning his aching eyes away. The darkness was settling in outside his window, a starless night engulfing the moonshine. Sasuke could breathe again.
It wasn't an Uchiha thing, as some older villagers who had known his clan well would say. Sasuke just liked the night. There was no accusing spotlight, no prying eyes, no expectations. He didn't have to hide. At night, nobody cared about Uchiha Sasuke. At night, Uchiha Sasuke didn't care about anybody.
Or rather, he could care without feeling guilty of how it looked like.
Sasuke felt a little bit more like his old self at night.
Until she had changed everything.
Now, Uchiha Sasuke cared about one person at night. He was constantly on hyper-alert. Ready to fight. All senses sharpened to pick up on the faintest of hints. He was scared.
He couldn't sleep. After his interaction with her, the first time he really discovered her, Sasuke had lost his ability to reason. He would be thinking that he'd been doing well, and then it would hit him. His insides would twist, his throat would dry up and his chakra would explode. He felt nervous when walking down the streets, but the feeling was nothing compared to what happened at night.
He couldn't move.
He would lie on his bed until exhaustion caught up with him, then brutally get jolted awake at the tiniest change in his environment. Everything would upset him, and that bothered him even more. He had never been so… fidgety. Out of focus. He messed up most of his missions, saw enemies in every passing person and had stopped himself just in time to avoid suddenly attacking Tsunade. Twice.
Sasuke couldn't even think straight about how to save Sakura anymore. He felt seriously messed up, because the only thought plaguing his mind was the distorted grin of Haruno Mebuki.
If only he could get some sleep… Tentatively closing his eyes, the worn out shinobi tried resting on his side, the forgotten picture escaping his grasp and landing on the floor with a soft thud. Images of Mebuki's smile invaded his mind again, and he groaned, reaching blindly for a pillow to slam his head into.
"Sasuke-kun."
There was another thing which had taken hold of him.
He could hear Sakura's voice.
Floating, dreamlike, but clearly hers. Ever since he had seen Sakura inside her own mind, her voice had haunted his every waking moment that her mother didn't yet occupy.
Eyes still tightly shut, Sasuke shook his head absently, trying to recollect the image of the child who had spoken to him. 'Haunted' wasn't the right word. Rather, she was… accompanying him. Against his own will sometimes, that he'd admit, but the moment the ringing would cut through Mebuki's wicked snicker, the shaking would stop. His lungs would accept air again. The fog in his mind would disappear. While temporary, the soothing effect Sakura's voice had on Sasuke was something the latter welcomed with bone-deep relief.
A low chuckle escaped his throat.
At a time when he was supposed to save her, yet again she was the one saving him.
Pathetic.
"Sasuke-kun."
He didn't know if her voice came from him or from her. He could be hallucinating, or developing a twisted defence mechanism. But… it sounded so real. Just there, like she was purposefully reaching out to him. She had managed to restart her own heart then defy an unbreakable mind jutsu to communicate with him all the while under a heavy drug's influence and with deadly poison circulating through her veins. Therefore, this strange calling-out wasn't completely his own invention, right? There was a slim chance…
"Sasuke-kun."
It didn't hurt to try.
"Aa, Sakura."
His voice sounded desperately foreign in the thick darkness of his room. Sasuke felt as if he hadn't talked in days, his mutter barely articulated, shy, hesitant.
Was this how Sakura felt all these years, when she waited and waited and waited for a person that wouldn't come back?
He could not withstand it.
Pathetic.
He was pathetic.
She had waited, without faltering.
She was strong. Much stronger than he could ever be.
But he couldn't give up; even if he wanted to, there was nothing else to do. This was at least better than the nightmares. Better than the visions.
So, just like Sakura, he waited. And waited. And waited.
Sasuke never got a reply.
Kakashi was muttering something about naps and dinner when Tsunade shoved a bowl of what looked like soggy noodles in his direction, her eyes never leaving the scroll they were flying across.
The pair had been at it every night since Naruto's return from his once-in-a-lifetime trip to the Archives, abandoning sleep in favour of a deep and heavily detailed dive into the lives of Haruno husband and wife, going back even before Sakura's birth. Some documents were missing, containing data too important for it to have been lost accidentally. The Hokage was beginning to suspect a collusion between the couple and high-ranking shinobi officers, which sounded rather paranoid given the civil status of Sakura's parents and the very little contact they could have possibly had with the Council. But what else could explain the systematic disappearance of classified papers?
Tsunade knew something was amiss with her one-eyed companion, as well as with the particularly brooding Uchiha who had barely left the Interrogation District the past few days and who, rather surprisingly, had diligently avoided the hospital like the plague itself. She was certain that both of their odd behaviours were linked to some kind of information. They had come across evidence or suspicious circumstances, Tsunade could definitely tell. The problem was, neither would talk. At this point in their investigation, they desperately needed every last bit of knowledge they could get their hands on; refusing to speak could have disastrous consequences. As the Hokage, Tsunade simply did not understand why Kakashi or Sasuke stubbornly kept their mouths shut. The shift in their moods had already told her half of what she needed to know, there was no point in holding back now.
But Kakashi was not in any position to share his theories with her just yet. He still needed to confirm the scattered pieces he had gained at the Rogue Village. Because his duty as a Leaf shinobi required it, Kakashi had mentioned the traitors' existence to the Hokage, who had in turn taken measures to keep them under constant surveillance, seeing as their presence could potentially pose a threat to Konoha and its allies. However, the Copy Ninja had purposefully omitted any plausible connection between the Rogues and Sakura's ambush. Every time he considered bringing up what he'd heard at the illegitimate village with his superior, no words would form in his mind. He was still doubting. He had to be sure in order to tackle the issue with her. Because, if it turned out that he was right… As the Hokage, but also as her own person, Tsunade would take a serious blow. It was highly likely that Sasuke would go on a rampage again and produce an unrestrained slaughter. And Sakura? She would never forgive him.
"Just tell me, Kakashi."
Tsunade's firm tone wasn't reprimanding; she wasn't exasperated with him either. She was patient, almost smiling at his surprised expression upon her forwardness. That was her Hokage method: wait for your prey to trust you, then deliver the fatal blow in all gentleness. Well, that was why he thought she made a wonderful leader.
"Tsunade," they weren't talking under the umbrella of hierarchy tonight. They were being frank. "Not yet." They were being friends. He reached for her hand, squeezing it lightly in hope that all his turmoil, his exhaustion, his fear and his affection would be conveyed to her. This wasn't comfort; not really. They were merely there, gripping each other's hand, holding on to their mutual apprehension, trying to start a fire with an invisible spark of hope.
But Tsunade couldn't hang on to hope anymore. Sakura couldn't be saved with prayers and wishes; she needed medical attention, an antidote and a jutsu-breaker. These things would not knock on the Hokage Tower's front door purely out of hope. They had to work, to hunt, to fight and to sweat. She would work, hunt, fight, sweat and bleed if it could only give a fleeting moment of peace back to her student. "Don't protect me, Kakashi." The moment she had accepted the position, Tsunade had been prepared to get hurt. She was the Hokage, therefore she incarnated the first line in case of a war. She would stand in front of Sakura. "Do not protect your Hokage." She wasn't fragile. She could take on the world. And Kakashi had to comply. "It is my job to protect all of you."
Retracting her hand from the Jonin's grasp, Tsunade stood up, slammed her palms onto the surface of her desk and rooted her unwavering gaze on the shinobi in front of her. "Tell me. Now."
In the eery silence of the Interrogation District, the Hokage's hurried heels sharply cut through the ominous atmosphere. Kakashi's revelations had confirmed her doubts, leaving a bitter aftertaste inside her mouth. They were pushing through, although blindly. As soon as a corner would come into view, seeming like the final one, Tsunade would take the turn and discover new sides of a story she wasn't sure she wanted to know. One thing she was certain of however; Sakura too had walked into this blindly, and she hadn't gone out differently. But someone had more insight, insight he was refusing to share for some obscure reasons. Even so, the Hokage had resources, and just as she had done with Kakashi, she would force everything out of him.
Only the clicking of her heels answered her determination. The hallways were empty, the cells were vacant. Except for one. Silence claimed its territory back as Tsunade waited for the lone figure to acknowledge her presence.
Finally, Sasuke's glare slid towards hers. She had learnt, after a few years of supervising this untameable beast, that a frown was the worst way to engage with him. Yet, cautiousness wasn't on his menu; Sasuke had to realise the urgency of the situation if she wanted him to speak, and speak truthfully. She couldn't be bothered about his emotional instability.
But the readiness of a Kage's authority didn't help to contain her brutal start when his eyes met hers.
Bloodshot. Not power-hungry, or defying, or bitter. A tired stare. The emptiness reflected in that split second, Tsunade found it rather unsettling. Sasuke wasn't like that.
He must've had noticed too, for he quickly ducked his head, as if shielding himself in shame. Slouching on the wall, arms and ankles tightly crossed, he looked terrible. Rectification: he also smelled terrible.
This was not going to be easy.
"Sasuke."
He did not spare her a glance again.
"Sasuke."
She had to have his full attention, otherwise he would undoubtedly lie.
"Uchiha!"
Her yell reverberated through the corridors on the naked walls. Straining her muscles in a peremptory stance, the Hokage hardened her glare to match his level of passive animosity. When he ultimately refused to respond, Tsunade deployed her last card. A bitch-move, Sakura would call it.
"Genin Uchiha Sasuke, if you do not answer me right now, I will incarcerate you for withholding crucial information during a state of emergency."
She did feel like a bitch, but if being a bitch would get her somewhere, then she'd gladly take on the role.
Sasuke, on the other hand, was completely riled.
Even then, he still wasn't looking at her. "What do you want?" His cracking voice was barely above a whisper, except the hallways deformed even the slightest of sounds into a piercing snarl.
"Everything you know." There was no point beating around the bush. Tsunade didn't allow herself to relax into a less intimidating posture just yet; he was still distracted.
One of Sasuke's eyebrows slowly rose, yet his pupils remained firmly rooted in place. "About?" He was trying to sound brazen, but his throat kept tightening in on itself whenever he tried to let anything pass. He hadn't moved an inch from his defensive attitude. Was he even aware of how backed-into-a-corner he looked?
No matter how much it squeezed at her heart to see him like this, if she gave in, he would never talk again. Sasuke was vulnerable right now, for whatever reason his walls were crumbling. This was the perfect - and only - opportunity she could get. "You know perfectly well what I mean." It had to come from him.
In the tense silence that followed, Tsunade briefly wondered if she had messed up. Sasuke gave no sign of reaction. Only the echo of his laboured breathing remained as proof that he was still alive.
Just as the Hokage was opening her mouth to reiterate her threat again, Sasuke spoke. His voice was hardly audible, but it didn't refrain Tsunade from catching his words clearly. Words which made a grieving mother's blood boil.
"It doesn't concern you."
She wanted nothing more than to rip his mouth off. She was the Hogake, for fuck's sake. This was about Sakura! Her special pupil, her child. And this brat, who had done nothing but harm her and casually trample on her heart like the bloody pavement, had the audacity to declare that it didn't concern her?
What had he done?
What had her ever done for her?
Tsunade forcibly kept her trembling fists at her sides, reminding herself that yes, indeed, she was the Hogake, and that a Hogake certainly did not attack her own shinobi. He had a reason. He was tired. He was hungry. He was worried. He had reason. He had a bloody reason.
Although calmed down, Tsunade still didn't manage to fully control her tone, which resonated as much harsher than she had intended. "You're putting Sakura in danger. "
Sasuke's eyes widened without leaving their post. This had hit home. He grit his teeth, trying to breathe in stably, but it was all going wrong. Why was she so intent on getting something out of him? It wasn't relevant to Sakura's case. It wasn't relevant to anything. It was just him. He had gone crazy, he was paranoid. That was it. He was the problem. There was no use trying to attack him like that. There was nothing to tell. Nothing to know. He was just wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He wasn't putting anyone in danger- why would he? Why would he go down that path again? No, he had vowed not to. This was stupid. Why couldn't she understand what he was saying? It really didn't concern her. Just him. It was all just-
"Sasuke."
Her voice had suddenly gone soft, and Sasuke wasn't sure if he preferred it. She was changing tactics now, hoping to get information from him with a different approach. But even under torture, he wouldn't say anything. There was nothing to say!
"Please. We only have two weeks. Please help me. Please help Sakura."
Not the pleas. He hated pleas. Sakura used them too much. He couldn't handle pleas. Violence was better. Contempt was easier to deal with. Please, anything but the pleas.
The gods, which Sasuke really doubted were up there, heard his prayer, for Tsunade quickly grew tired of his silence. He couldn't see her, but he could pick up on all the telltale signs of an enemy ready for an ambush. Her chakra was dimming, her breath was quieting. His overdriven senses were ready to hit back.
Except this wasn't the kind of fight he could navigate. "It's always you! Why are you being an obstacle again? Why? For once, stop putting her in danger!"
And as all vulnerable creatures do when they panic, Sasuke did the first thing that came to mind, but not before finally tearing his abused gaze away from what he'd been obsessively staring at.
Tsunade hiccuped in surprise, all the embarrassment at having lost her cool washing away in front of her small victory. Eventually, she had gotten a genuine reaction out of him. Sasuke snapped.
He screamed his throat sore.
A raw yell, piercing through her chest, followed by a confession which was clear he had never planned to voice. Both loathing and heartbroken.
"I TRY! I try to stay away from her- but I just can't, and it's killing me too!!"
He heaved. Sasuke was seconds away from collapsing. This was not the direction Tsunade wanted to take things in. But how could she make it right now? She had forced something out of him which belonged to no human ears other than his.
Guilt however did not have time to settle in; Sasuke, who had doubled over rasping, abruptly shot up as if electrified. Seconds later, a high-pitched cackling filled the empty hallways, hovering like an invisible threat over the two figures stunned to silence.
That's when Tsunade realised. Focused on the information he was possessing, the Hogake had not paid much attention to Sasuke's incessant staring, chalking it up to his hereditary stubbornness.
Stupid mistake.
The cell. Sasuke's eyes had almost never left the cell door.
It didn't take any guessing to know who was locked up inside.
She hadn't had the time to check on them personally yet. One glance at Sasuke's frozen expression told her she definitely should have made that time.
He wasn't moving, not even breathing. That look on his face, Tsunade had only ever seen once. In the ER, in front of Sakura's mangled body.
Shit.
She had to get him away from this cell- but the cackling meant Mebuki was awake. And she had overheard their argument. So she would talk. What if Tsunade never got this chance again? Sasuke wouldn't budge. And if she were foolish enough to grab him in his state, she would probably end up losing a finger or two. She just had to get him to breathe, and then she would deal with him later.
A slap would do.
Not checking whether her rough treatment worked, Tsunade ripped the cell door open, stepped in, and slammed it behind her. She locked herself in for good measure, even though something told her that Sasuke would never cross that threshold in his life.
Now was the time for her third interrogatory.
Kizashi was still unconscious. The drugs administered on a regular basis had little effect on her, although they seemed to knock her husband out successfully. It was a good thing she was immune to a bunch of things when he wasn't. It allowed for conversations which were better left… unheard by a soul as sweet as his.
Mebuki grinned as her chains rattled. Tsunade was still such a pitiful woman. Standing there, crucifying her from above, already deeming her criminal although they barely knew each other. The Hokage, she called herself. Even with dust, blood and hair clinging to her face and holes tearing through her clothes, Mebuki wondered which, out of the two of them, was the disgusting one. Whose hands were truly dirty.
