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Covenant
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Synopsis: Everyone is dead or hunted. The Allies lost. The war is over.
Treacherous seal marring her neck as a collar, Madara parades her like a victory trophy.
And though he gave her to his patriarch—betrayed her in the worst of ways—
Here, in The End, Sasuke Uchiha is all Sakura has left.
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2:13. Kismet
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THE FEAST passed like a dream. She stared at her food, nauseous and dazed. One bite, and she'd surely heave her guts onto the tabletop. A revolting display of her insides to a room full of enemies. Too telling to risk—she left the meal untouched.
The small cave dining hall was packed like canned sardines. Madara's shinobi were having a grand time.
Sakura was not.
She was fighting to stay in the room, grasping for a numbness the petering-out calmative struggled to give. Spring vegetables morphed into a child's terrified face on her plate. Laughter jilted into her ears like screams muffled in a cloth gag. The phantoms pressed on her mind behind the subsiding medication, wispy forms of those long gone hazing into existence in the tables' shadows on her vision's edge.
One was large and plump and examing the food. One was doing pushups using a single pinky. One was brushing out a dog's fur. One stood tall and stoic far in the corner, arms crossed, long hair tied low on his back.
The ones she'd grown most accustomed to. The ones that had haunted her the longest.
Sasuke's concern was palpable in their seal, his aloof regard flitting to her downturned profile every few minutes. Suigetsu poked at her food with chopsticks in encouragement that she follow his lead. Seats away, Madara studied the room, appearing both bored and bothered with the event he'd planned.
At least he wasn't paying her any mind. Sakura didn't think she could manage it.
Orochimaru had warned her. He'd warned her, and she'd brushed it off.
At the time, Ino was more important. It didn't matter how many would die. Didn't matter who she'd witness fall next or what family lines Ino's escape would wipe from existence. And if Sakura were honest with herself, Ino was still more important than any of that.
Even if she'd known down to the last drop of blood, Sakura would've chosen Ino.
But Orochimaru warned her—and despite it, Madara managed to catch her off-guard. He'd snuck under her weak defenses and wreaked havoc. Certainly as was his aim.
Five years she'd endured this senseless misery. Soon to be five and a half. Such violence should've been but another drop in the ocean by now.
What were six deaths in the sea of thousands? What was one?
After all these years, she'd withstood its confirmation hundreds of times. Yet, no matter how frequently that underbelly of war exposed itself, each new one she saw went down like swallowing nails.
Children.
Kids with whole lives ahead of them. None of them had anything to do with the conflicts gripping the world. They had no say, no impact, no choice, no knowledge of anything but this war and its death brought upon them by people they'd never met.
From what the Kiri medics said all those months ago, Muhei held no power or information. She would've posed no threat to Madara. There was no need for his troops to torture her; Sakura didn't even want to think about the ways they might've. Her death held no strategic value beyond Sakura seeing it happen.
So focused on the atrocity of watching a child she knew die, Sakura couldn't recall the faces of the other five sacrifices now, two hours later.
Were there others that young? Younger? Older shinobi? Civilians? Were they all as low-ranked as Muhei? Had any of the others recognized her so immediately?
She was the last friendly person they'd seen at the end of this life, and Sakura couldn't remember a single one besides Muhei.
She hadn't taken the Sannin's warning seriously; for that, she'd made a mistake.
Partly because she thought he was exaggerating, or trying to frighten her into withdrawing her threat to bring them all down. The way he spoke in riddles and half-truths most of the time made parsing out his real meaning nigh-impossible without significant effort. Now—confronted with his honesty—she wished she'd spent more time deciphering everything he'd dangled before her.
It was also partly because she hadn't thought she'd be alive to see whatever he foretold.
But she was still alive. And to her left sat her silent overseer, who'd given no doubt that he intended to keep it that way. Who she'd dismally realized she probably couldn't leave to shoulder the consequences of her death.
Although maybe that guilt was just a byproduct of their seal. Maybe it would subside if he agreed to it, she found herself thinking.
…Thinking about Sasuke was the easiest way to clear the shadows and panic closing in. The path back to apathy with the least resistance.
Only before him did the wraiths go quiet.
Maybe that was just a byproduct, too.
"Alright. That's long enough." Sakura's observation shifted from her plate to Sasuke, who was pushing out of his seat with an air of indignation. "I'm done with this ridiculous party, Madara. I've got training to do."
From the head of the table, Madara threw her a smirk as he nodded. "Very well, nephew. Take the medic along with you. Don't be late in the morning."
"Come then, prisoner." The order settled in her seal with a low hum.
She let Sasuke pull her up and out of the room. Kept her head lowered as they moved swiftly through the rocky, damp corridors of the unfamiliar base. When it came time to tackle the spiral staircase, she found walking up was far more taxing than going down. Sasuke slowed as she struggled behind him, in poor health and without chakra to make up for it.
And even though she'd been outside all morning traveling and for Madara's grand spectacle, this time, on the last step, nature's fresh air hit her like a sickness.
Gagging, Sakura's vision spun as her body did. There were barely any trees here. Barely any coverage. Short grass in every direction, no matter where she turned. No foliage blocked the dark, cloudless night sky. No mountains in the distance sliced the horizon in half. No crowd filled the empty spaces with their loud voices and dirty glares.
Before Sasuke could close the entrance, she jerked backward down two steps, eyes wide.
There was so much space. So much…freedom. She could be anyone in this open wilderness. She could go anywhere, do anything—
Her breath was coming too fast. It was too big—too empty—had too much room—
Corpse piles broke the earth's surface, digging up through the dirt. The breeze morbidly warmed with the heat of recently dead human bodies, filled with the sounds of distant metal clashing and screamed jutsu. Blood rivered towards her feet, soaked through her shoes—dripped down the staircase.
Some of the corpses were moving, crying out for help—mangled and deformed and unsavable and—
"—me? Relax. You're okay. Nothing's here."
Her focus reeled, centering on a dim figure before her, reserved in the mayhem that was building behind him. The piles were expanding—their stench overwhelming—the fight was nearing—flares of fire and lightning grew brighter, rumbles of the ground heaving grew louder—
"It's not real, Sakura." Warm hands landed on her shoulders. "Breathe. In and out. Five seconds each."
The calmness of the order urged her to obey; the carnage's depravity encouraged her to look away. Instantly, her eyes squeezed shut. She counted five seconds in and five seconds out, five times in a row. Concentrated on the fingers digging into her arms and the birds' peaceful chatter breaking through the combat.
It's not real. She didn't want to break. Not here. Not like this. Not right outside Madara's base.
"Yes. It's just a field," said the figure's deep voice.
It's just a field, she mentally repeated. It's just a field.
When breaths stopped rattling in her chest and her bones no longer trembled, she slowly opened her eyes. Sasuke's passive inspection awaited her. Behind him was grass interspersed with lonesome trees. The air smelled of a spring evening. Leaves rustled in the wind.
No bodies—no battle.
He nodded, so close that she could see the way his irises darted between hers. "Just a field."
Glancing away, she weakly batted one of his arms off. "Okay, then. I'm good. Where are we going?"
I should've eaten dinner, she thought as Sasuke slipped away without replying, motioning for her to follow.
He didn't mention her episode as they trekked away from the base; Sakura quickly put it out of mind, embarrassed and queasy from the illusion. She kept her stare glued to his heels for the rest of their march, scared to gaze upon this place's expanse a second time when her dosage was plainly nearing its end.
Mentally, she repeated the recipe for soldier pills over and over. Her footfalls fell neatly into the impressions his made, the dark of night making it difficult if she didn't pay attention.
When Sasuke eventually came to a halt, she allowed herself to look up and see why.
They'd arrived at a brown burlap tent in the middle of an uneven circle of trees. Four other tents were closed in with it. An unlit stack of firewood in a shallow dug-out pit sat center in their formation.
Sasuke lifted the heavy Akatsuki robe off her shoulders as she took in the scene, grimacing when the breeze touched her bare arms.
She'd been forced into a red qipao dress before the performance. It wasn't a match—this one was without any embroidered seal and two sizes too big. Longer than she was used to, the red too dark, no wrap on her waist kept it snug, and it was hemmed with black. The loose gray prisoner slacks were mismatched underneath.
But it was close enough to paint a picture. Close enough to her own clothing—different enough from the usual dull colors she wore here—that Sakura understood.
How Madara knew of her usual medic attire was a mystery; a mystery easily answered if she allowed her mind to travel that route, which she refused. However he'd come to know, she was sure making her wear this poor copy beneath his uniform was all for its psychological effect. Be it on her, or those set for execution who might glimpse the red neckline under the enemy's cloak, or any Ally sympathizers in the crowd who might report it.
"Wait here." Sasuke made it one step before glancing over his shoulder. "...Don't try to run, Sakura. You know I can find you, and I'll have to."
Whatever he saw in her blank countenance must've not worried him, as he disappeared into the closest tent with that.
Barely half a minute later he popped back out. If she had it in her, she might've been flattered that he believed her capable of getting away from him without chakra in such a timeframe. But she didn't have it in her, and she wasn't. Unfeeling, she watched him bend down and offer her his back.
Sasuke tilted his head to her when she didn't move. "There's a stream two miles away. It'll be packed once people start leaving the dining hall. There's limited running water in this base."
"I'll stay," she said, declining the offer. "You go on."
Sighing, he turned back towards the trees in front of him. "You'll feel better from it."
"I'm fine now."
"Don't argue. Get on."
Tracing the outline of the red and white gunbai on his shirt, Sakura briefly contemplated how sometimes, lately, his words in these moments held less power. As if he were speaking an order but withholding its influence. Even in this delay between his talking and her deciding whether to listen, the seal gave no response, despite his sentences' construction that of a command.
If she cared, she maybe could've asked if it was something he'd known about all along, or came to suspect recently. Maybe would've wanted to pick apart how he did it, how it worked, and why it didn't seem to go both ways. Perhaps might've wondered why he bothered.
But she didn't care. "I won't run if you leave me here. Like you said, you could find me anyway… I just want to lay down."
"We're going to the river." Sasuke scrutinized her again. "I'll carry you there if I have to."
Sakura surmised that by carry, he meant in front of him, not on his back. After a few seconds of hesitation, she gave in with a glower. Striding forward, she let him hike her up on his back as Suigetsu had earlier today.
"Hold tight," was his only warning before he shot forward at full speed.
Without chakra to brace herself, she had to duck her head into the crook of his neck to shield from the wind's whip.
She tried not to think about how she'd sunk into this same place last night, from a different position, for a different reason. Tried to block out his hands splayed under her knees as he ran and how those same hands had pushed those same knees up until they were touching her ears 24 hours ago. Ignored the way her pelvis was pressing into his back at a nice angle.
It was an easier task than she would've bet, with his cold behavior since they met Madara this morning fresh in her mind and the air flying past so swiftly she almost couldn't breathe.
She'd forgotten how mind-shatteringly fast he was. They made it to the river quicker than she could comprehend. He plopped her down by the water's edge just as quick, giving her no time to think before he turned and began undressing.
Cheeks reddening, she swiveled in the opposite direction, shoving away the images from this morning and last night begging her to compare what she'd felt to what she could now see.
But she'd seen nearly-naked Sasuke dozens of times before yesterday. Seen fully naked men hundreds of times in the past during medical exams.
His taking clothes off to wash was simply that. Nothing more. This wasn't that kind of moment.
She certainly wasn't in that kind of mood, regardless of what specific portions of her body might argue otherwise.
And after today's trip, she'd lost a considerable chunk of confidence in her conviction that their positions didn't matter—that she'd come to terms with him being a captor and her a captive. That what they'd done was fine since she wanted it, and it felt good.
Sakura kept those thoughts hushed and guarded, careful not to let him hear it, though she wasn't exactly sure why. Part of her worried he might never touch her again if he heard. Another part simply didn't want to give him more reasons to look upon her with veiled words that screamed, I told you so.
"Get in," he said, pulling her out of herself.
She peeked towards the sound of his voice. Dressed in nothing but his undergarments, he waded into the water.
The muscles lining his back moved like those of a predator as he walked; his dark hair shone under the moon's attention. Scars etched over his porcelain skin like kintsugi.
Her sights fell to her chest, abruptly self-conscious.
Sasuke was a God among men. She was malnourished and underweight, frightfully pale from months underground. Hair unkempt and jaggedly cut. Raising her right hand before her, she appraised the smooth stump on the end of it.
She was broken. Unmendable. Most of her wounds weren't even visible. They were nothing like those marks he proudly bore across his body as golden threads of strength.
"Come, Sakura." Startled by the command, she briskly hid her hand behind her back. Regarding her with a raised brow, he added, "...If you want."
Sasuke phrased it like she had a choice. Like she'd come to this stream of her own volition. But there wasn't any point in prolonging this conversation, so Sakura stalked into the water as he had.
They were on a portion of the river that bowled out in the earth, thickening from ten-feet wide to double that before shrinking once more further down its path. As with all bodies of water in Water Country, this one was far warmer than those found in Fire. In the cool of early evening, its small heat soothed her skin. The water was clear, without any reeds or algae. Rocks lined the riverbed, glistening in the starlight.
Gingerly, she let herself daydream. With the bright full moon, and the misty dark of Water nights, and the subdued stream. Somewhere far removed from this war—years ago or years ahead—
How nice this moment could've been.
"What are you doing?" Confusion colored Sasuke's tone.
But everything was tainted with misery, now. Even this tranquil river bath. Even this time alone with the only person she had left.
"I'm getting in. Like you wanted."
"With all your clothes on?"
Sakura paused, water already up to her hips.
She hadn't realized.
"I'm—sure you have some I can change into afterward." Her voice lowered—"Maybe some that aren't red."
"...Aa."
A foreign feeling crept through her in the next second, similar to the beginning of a Yamanaka mindlink. It slithered up the pathways on her neck into her head. Sakura shot him a glare.
He was prying into her using the seal.
Scowling, she reinforced what little wards she could manage. "Really, Sasuke? Stop that. You aren't even trying to hide it."
The Rinnegan shone like purple jasper in the dark. "Did you know the girl well?"
"If you already know that much, then you also know the answer."
"It was a quick death."
"You'd obviously tortured her," she accused.
"I've never seen her before today?"
"She was only a child."
"...Even younger fought on the frontline."
Sakura stared down at the water on her waist, her tears rippling its surface—oblivious to when they'd started.
"Why didn't you warn me?" she whispered.
"I really didn't know."
"That lieutenant knew. The one running this base. Aren't you a general?"
"None of this was in the original plan. The whole trip was reorganized after Orochimaru, and Madara's kept me in the dark since."
"Not too far in the dark. Considering the information you've gotten for him and how well you're taming me so I might heal him and his army."
"What else do you expect me to tell him, Sakura?" he quietly questioned.
"At least tell me. You ask me to trust you but don't tell me anything. All I hear are the awful things you tell your master, and then you bring me here without warning to see children slayed as punishment!"
Contrary to her words, however, she knew he was right. She'd needed a distraction from the terrors of her reawakening mind during the hours-long feast, and analyzing Sasuke's actions was always the strongest one. Though impossible to remove her feelings entirely, she'd tried inspecting the day's events as an unaffected observer.
And he was right.
Sasuke couldn't tell Madara that he hated him. Sasuke couldn't rebuff Madara's orders or requests entirely. He couldn't be kind to her, or coddle her, or treat her any differently than he'd treat another captive with witnesses present.
So she knew he was right—but it still felt wrong. All of this was so wrong.
No amount of awareness could change that. Her understanding didn't nullify the depravity of what he did. Of what he allowed.
Standing mute in that room, ogled by enemies while Madara searched her body for proof, felt disgusting. Having a group of men discuss her like a piece of meat to share was revolting. It was vile being draped in his uniform as her enemy boasted to his followers how he planned to sexually exploit her for personal gains. That Sasuke hadn't reached out a single time, all day, to settle her growing dread was rottenly demeaning in the worst of ways.
Something that should've been beautiful evolved into something horrific in mere hours.
The worst part was, deep down, she'd known from the start it would happen. She'd known. Whether Sasuke had pulled away this morning or they'd ended up in this stream together tonight—it was always destined to become this.
But knowing something and witnessing its born fruits were entirely different things.
And it wasn't Sasuke's fault.
It wasn't her fault, either.
They were both bound by the confines of this perpetual war. Trapped on a battlefield they'd never escape. Their union had been meaningless in the end, like everything else. A moment of reprieve in the relentless grief—a star born and burst in a single instant with no one to mourn it, no one to witness it, and no one who cared.
She was so...tired.
With blurry vision and a soft voice, she confessed, "I didn't think anything would change after we—" It stuck in her throat.
"...But Gods, how I hoped. I did. I could lie and say I didn't, but there's no point. Not with you. I hoped it'd change something so much that I couldn't fall asleep for hours." Sakura laughed from the ache of it, staring up into the stars, Naruto's giggles ghosting in her ears. "Why do you think we let ourselves do that, knowing better? When no matter what we want or what we do, the world keeps turning as it always would've, and none of it matters. Do you think the maker made us like this for his own entertainment?"
The sound of water sloshing and new waves on her waist told her he was approaching.
"Even now, why am I saying this to you like it means anything? Why does anyone say anything at all? What was the point of the past five years? What was the point of last night? Why did that child have to die? Why is everyone gone, but I'm still here?" The moon was high in the sky—casting his shadow onto her in her periphery. Empty tears ran hot from the corners of her eyes. She was so fucking tired. "...Please just let me go, Sasuke."
He was right behind her now. "Where would you go if I did?"
"Where we're all destined."
"Where would that be?"
"Hell."
"I see." His hand fell on her shoulder, gently pressing down. "Kneel into the water."
There was no point in fighting; it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. And if Sasuke truly wanted it, she was bound to do it, though it wasn't laced with any endorphins.
Sakura fell to her knees, water lapping her chin and lips.
"You're a medic. Hell's for fighters."
"You don't know anything," she rebutted.
"I know that I can't let you go. Not yet."
Warm water suddenly poured down her hair.
Sakura's gaze jerked back to him standing behind her, hands cupped above her head—blocking her view of his face. The small pool in his palms leaked between the crease where his hands met.
"...Look forward," he murmured. After a beat where no thoughts came to her, she did. More water fell over her as soon as she was straight. "But if you give me the time and trust I asked for, I will."
"When?"
"I can't say."
"Can't because you won't, or can't because you don't know?"
"Both."
The smell of shampoo wafted over her—he was massaging it into her scalp.
That feels good, were the only coherent words her brain managed to form. Far too good than it should.
With him doing this, it was strangely hard to remember that she'd just asked him to let her die a moment ago. If she weren't fighting to keep her mind from running with the fact Sasuke Uchiha was bathing her, she would've wondered where the shampoo came from and why he hadn't used it first. And why he was doing this at all.
She wouldn't even allow herself to begin to consider it was due to a change between them. No good could come of falling into hope again.
Maybe this action of his was simply a byproduct of the seal, too.
Or maybe he just didn't want to tell her that she smelled.
"...But you will, eventually?" she managed to push out before the break in conversation verged on purposeful. "Let me go."
"Aa."
"Promise?"
"Yes."
"But I can't trust you since you don't tell me anything," she reasoned, staring out into the forest around them as he kneaded near her neck. Repeating to herself that it was only because they had to share a tent tonight, and she stank from travel. "So I don't believe you."
"What do you want to know?"
What a loaded question. There were hundreds of things she wanted to know. It felt like a trick now as he withdrew his hands to pour water over her head again. Soaking out the suds that trickled down her forehead.
Sakura held her breath and closed her eyes. He thinks you smell. He thinks you smell. He only wants to sleep next to someone who doesn't stink of sweat.
It was hard to think like this. Hard to stay rational when his actions were so juxtaposed to those he'd shown in the daylight. When her latest memories of him in the dark were nothing like this calm, passive presence on her back. It was too hard for her brain to form an appropriate answer to his question.
Although... If she were sincere...
If she wanted to know anything at this precise moment—one thing—if she were to drop her guard and reveal it all—if she were to be fully honest—
She'd ask him if he—
…No.
She shouldn't. It didn't matter, and she was certain whatever answer he might give wasn't anything that'd fall sweetly into her ears.
So she didn't ask that. "What do you need time to do?"
"Anything besides that."
"Fine. Where were you in the last battle? Why did you leave the Allies to get caught like that?"
"...Besides that, too."
"So it's what I want to know, but only if I somehow manage to ask something you're willing to share." Sakura scowled. "Then just pick something yourself to tell me. Something no one else knows, so I know you're serious. And open your seal when you decide so I can tell if you're lying."
"That's broad," muttered Sasuke.
She conceded, "Something since you left Konoha, then. Or since the war started, if that's still too broad."
Crickets sang out to one another. The river lapped small waves against the grassy shore. Trees creaked in the mild wind.
Sasuke remained silent.
After waiting a long minute, she sighed. "If you don't intend to tell me anything, say so. Don't offer things in the first place if you don't mean them."
"You're so impatient, Sakura." He lifted her hair off her shoulders, smoothing it through his hands. "Give me a moment to think."
Then his fingers were combing through her strands, untangling their mess with gentle strokes.
Was it really Sasuke behind her? The urge to confirm it wasn't someone disguising themselves in a transformation nearly made her jump away from him. Nearly—but she wouldn't risk moving. Couldn't risk frightening him.
She'd probably let herself decompose in this river, in this exact position, if it meant he'd stay here gently bathing her until it happened.
His movements stilled. "How about what happened when the Allies thought I died?"
"Alright." She was curious about that. "If you're willing."
"I was caught in a jutsu." His fingers resumed their work.
Skeptical, she intoned, "For two years?"
The seal on her neck vibrated; then she felt him punch a hole in the dam. His emotions dripped into her, muted and stunted as if he were struggling to release them. Even so, what she could feel was sincere in its presentation. She briefly basked in what he supplied, lips curving into a grin.
Two years, though? There was no way.
"For over a year," he clarified.
She couldn't detect a crumb of deception. "Over a—?!" Sakura spun to look at him. "What kind of genjutsu could hold an Uchiha for that long?"
"Look forward." He nodded in the direction he meant. Louring, she listened as she had the first time. "Another Uchiha's could."
This answer he'd chosen was dredging up even more questions.
"Madara did that to you? Did he do it to Obito, too? What for? A whole year, Sasuke? How did you even—who kept you alive that long?"
"...Orochimaru broke it after a few weeks. Then Madara locked him down with Suigetsu and me to monitor our conditions."
"So Madara cast a genjutsu on the three of you?"
"It was cast on Suigetsu, Kabuto, and I. Orochimaru revived himself through Kabuto while he was unconscious and broke the jutsu on his body first."
She remembered the Sannin mentioning something like that to her once before. Unless student and shishou pre-planned this outrageous story in the event Sasuke needed to share it with her one day, it seemed at least some of what he'd disclosed was true.
"How long was Suigetsu caught?" she queried.
"Five months. It was very powerful."
"But you—you were in it for over a year?"
"Almost eighteen months."
There were no knots left—his fingers were just running through her hair at this point. Consumed with the new conversation, Sakura no longer had to wrangle her reflections away from his strange attention to her head. And she wanted to see his face while he explained this. Examine it for additional clues—to ensure he wasn't feeding her false emotions through the seal, somehow.
She leaned away and faced him, still ducked into the water. "Why did it take you so long?"
Sasuke watched her sway in the current. "I partially broke it shortly after Orochimaru."
"But you couldn't wake up?"
"Didn't want to wake up," he corrected softly. "I didn't want to leave."
"What?"
Appearing to draw into himself, Sasuke knelt in the water up to his chin like she was. His sights shifted to somewhere over her shoulder.
"I thought I solved the issue when I killed Orochimaru for suggesting it. But after some time passed, Kabuto revived my brother anyway… Under Madara's orders, behind my back. It was already done by the time I realized what was happening." The words came out slow, as if he pulled each one out with effort. "Itachi… He broke free of Reanimation somehow. On his own. He turned to me and—" Sasuke blinked, lips frozen.
Then he cleared his throat. "...He cast Izanami. Kabuto and Suigetsu were in the room with us and got caught, too. Even though Itachi was released from this world as soon as we all fell asleep, Madara still killed everyone on base to keep his failed resurrection from leaking—the rest of Taka included."
Hearing Sasuke speak about his brother stirred something in her gut. She knew it was a difficult subject for him to breach—knew it was better not to delve too deeply, even if she wanted to. It was as ripe a topic as any to close him tight as a clam.
So Sakura skirted around it, trying to veer his story down a different trail. "Why didn't you want to leave?"
"Do you know what Izanami is?"
"Orochimaru mentioned it once, but…" Just how much bait had the Sannin laid at her feet that she'd left untouched? "No, I don't."
His eyes flitted back to hers, narrowed. "Information about Izanami isn't something you can repeat. To anyone."
Sakura frowned. "Who would I tell?"
"Mm…" Stare sliding away, he continued, "It forces someone to relive a loop of events until they accept a fate the caster wants them to. In Orochimaru and Suigetsu's case, a fate of ensuring my survival."
As soon as she heard that—it clicked.
Suigetsu's mention of a jutsu that made him stop Sasuke from getting killed. Orochimaru's strange obsession with Sasuke living past the war when he'd only ever wanted his body. Both of them diligently following all of Sasuke's orders—so much so that Orochimaru gave up his own life at Sasuke's word.
In this context, it all made sense; if it were true—and it felt like Sasuke was telling the truth.
She made a mental note to ask Suigetsu later. She was sure he'd crack and spill it all if she was specific with her probing.
"And you?" she prompted, eager for as much as he'd give her. "What did you have to do to get out?"
"Accept any fate I wanted."
"Any? And that took you a year and a half…?"
"I—like I said, I broke the loop fairly fast." He shrugged shallowly. "After that, I was free to live out a life within the genjutsu as long as I never accepted a fate."
"So you just…lived in a jutsu? For that long?"
Sasuke gazed up at the full moon. "Yeah."
Sakura watched him closely, though she could only see the top of his shoulders and face. Wistful was the description that came to mind as she studied his expression.
The darkness covered them like a blanket. The stars shone upon them as a billion tiny spotlights. The river was quiet, the crickets were loud, and he was close enough that she need only reach out to touch him.
If it were anyone else with that look, she would. She'd lean forward and wrap her arms around them in this warm water. Let them find solace in her embrace.
But this was Sasuke, and he wouldn't appreciate such a thing. So she fisted her hands on her thighs and kept still.
She swept in the water dripping off his bangs. The curve of the tip of his nose. The tendons up his neck—the slight tilt of his lips. The conflict in his gaze, too controlled as it passed through their connection to understand.
"Why?"
"Because Itachi was alive there." Sasuke stared into the sky as an overwhelming sadness fell upon her once more, calling tears back into her eyes. "...But eventually, I accepted a fate, and I woke up. It's impossible to stay in Izanami forever."
She didn't know what to say, though she knew she didn't want him to stop talking. Not yet. Not when it felt like he was letting her in—really letting her in. Allowing her to see something he'd never shown anyone else in the world.
And against her better judgment, she was letting herself hope that he'd never show anyone else in the world, either. She didn't want another person to glimpse this expression. Didn't want a second set of ears to hear the peaceful tone of this confession. Never wanted anyone, ever, to witness Sasuke remember his brother like this.
He could give every part of himself to whoever may ask it of him, but Sakura desperately hoped he'd never give them this.
She wanted this to be hers to keep. Hers alone. Forever.
The picture of him knelt in this stream, face lifted towards the heavens, dojutsu clear as glass scarred itself onto her brain like a kunai to the head.
"How long did eighteen months feel like inside a genjutsu?"
A moment passed between them, subtle as the current of the small stream they bathed in. One in which the crickets paused, the water slowed, and the moon grew brighter as it watched. Her seal heated, branching through her pathways like lava. Murky images she didn't quite understand sailed through her mind as a photo album, the emotions attached flooding her as they blinked by.
Anger. Confusion. Longing. Hope. Admiration. Happiness. Pride. Sadness. Vengeance. Understanding. Contentment. Acceptance.
Love.
And then—Sasuke closed his eyes and—
"A long time." Smiled. "It felt like a very long time that wasn't nearly long enough."
Her heart pounded so hard she was sure it was causing tides. "What fate did you accept?" she whispered.
Sasuke's smile drifted her way. He was smiling. Genuinely smiling. Tears leaked down her cheeks.
When was the last time she'd seen this? Ten years ago? Longer?
Had she ever?
His hand lifted between them and he gently flicked her byakugou. "You asked for one thing. I've given you far more. That's sufficient to ease your worries, no?"
"I—I asked…I said something, not one thing..."
"Good of me to give you a few wrapped up in one story, then. Don't be too greedy, Sakura." Another second, and his smile faded. "Others are already headed this way." Standing, he waded towards the bank, his side of the seal falling silent behind the wall she felt him rebrick. "Let's leave before we're forced to deal with them. We can get to the tents before the rest, too."
Now out of the water, Sasuke bent down and summoned a towel from a sealing scroll he'd stashed by the base of a nearby tree. He dried himself off and sent her an expectant look.
In an attempt to stave off shell shock, Sakura dunked her whole body into the river. She floated beneath the surface, praying the current would wash away the butterflies filling her to the brim. When it didn't work, she rose with a gasp and followed him out anyway.
There was no running from him. No avoiding this. Whether she was confident in the choice she'd made last night or not, the bell was already rung, and it was obvious to her now that he was affected more than she'd assumed. Felt more than he revealed. Nothing else could explain what he'd just shown to her—given to her.
Time. If she gave him time, he'd let her go.
She thought, for the most fleeting of instants, that maybe she could trust Sasuke Uchiha after all. And in the most fleeting of instants after that, she wondered if she'd even be able to leave him if he kept his word.
Dripping wet, she stood awkwardly beside him, unsure where to rest her gaze while he tugged on fresh clothes.
.
thanks for reading, as always.
and thanks to Leech for beta-reading