FIRST ARC - Chapter 2: Fated Punishment
A shroud of melancholy draped itself over Sasuke as he surveyed the scene. The once vibrant blue canvas of the sky was slowly being overtaken by encroaching shadows, the sun's descent mirroring the descent of a hero. For sure.
The towering trees, usually boasting lush green foliage, now resembled menacing sentinels cloaked in unnatural darkness, their leafy arms seemingly reaching out to guard the hallowed ground where departed souls resided. Sasuke's gaze, usually sharp and unwavering, was fixated on the memorial gate, a gateway to grief he wasn't sure he had the right to witness, while people started to gather there to mourn the loss of Naruto Uzumaki.
As the sky started to darken, the warmth in the air vanished while the day waned. A subtle chill, like a serpent slithering down his spine, wormed its way beneath his collar, sending shivers prickling across his exposed skin. Instinctively, his hand rose to rub the back of his neck, a futile attempt to quell the tremors that mirrored the turmoil within.
"She clearly prohibited your presence here," Kakashi's sleek and slow tone woke Sasuke from his trance.
With a torrent of conflicting emotions weighing him down, he swallowed, "Everyone who never even knew him is here to pay their respects...so why shouldn't I?" Sasuke cleared his throat, a lump formed there, halting his thoughts as the words escaped his mouth. How could I? The pitying self countered back in his mind. How can you stand against his grave, when you put him there? His lamenting brain couldn't stop throbbing.
His feet, heavy with a leaden despair, propelled him forward. Kakashi followed closely, his normally relaxed posture replaced by a ramrod straightness that spoke volumes of his internal conflict. Sasuke could see the crowd forming across the polished stone monument; Flowers, incense and small offerings like cards and even food items were placed around the base, adding a touch of colour and life to the stone where his name was engraved, where the loss was carved and mourned.
Gasps of sorrow and respect were the only verbal offering they could give as they knelt down to the stone and shed a few tears and offered choked sobs. Some stood and squeezed their eyes shut, breathed in and out and then stepped away. Some pressed their trembling hands to that stone and murmured a prayer in reverence and reflection, walking back with slumped postures.
Sasuke wondered what he'd do. Sasuke watched a detached observer in a scene where he felt like a trespasser. His presence was a mockery of the shared grief of true mourners. Right?
But before he could think, a meek voice paused his steps, and shattered the silent flagellation happening in his mind.
"Kakashi-sama, I don't remember being unclear about my wishes regarding his presence."
Kakashi pulled Sasuke's wrist, a way to tell him to not react in the way one could expect from a haughty Sasuke Uchiha.
A visual manifestation of grief materialized behind them – Hinata, cloaked in a black dress that fell to her knees. In one arm, she cradled a simple hand-held crib. Sasuke could almost hear the soft breaths of Naruto's child emanating from within. Sakura and Shikamaru were trailing behind her. Sakura came and took the crib away from her hand and Hinata's already weakened presence felt even smaller and fragile.
She was never his focus ever, he had merely heard about her from Naruto or Sakura; a perfect girl, Naruto had said. A kind girl, Sakura had said.
Right now, from where Sasuke stood, right opposite from her, she was far from perfect. Her long midnight hair was tucked into a lose dishevelled pony-tail which did little to contain the unbound strands framing her sides, her bright eyes were shadowed by the dark circles and sunken, her nose was red as she sniffled, her cheeks were hollow and her lips were parched, dehydrated and chewed on as the light marks of nascent bruises were formed on the corner of them.
The Hokage spoke up, with weary empathy, "Hinata-chan, I understand your sentiments. However, Sasuke has been exonerated of any deliberate intent to harm Naruto. He has the right to visit Naruto's farewell memorial just like any citizen of Konoha-"
Her thin arms crossed defensively over her chest as a ragged sigh escaped her parched lips. A ghost of a smile, more grimace than amusement, played on her pale face. "Perhaps the council was right, Hokage-sama. Perhaps, your biases towards your former student prodigy is indeed clouding your judgement to a point where you seem to lack the respect for my wishes," that meek little fragile creature, was anything but kind at that moment.
Sakura, sensing the rising tension, reached out, her hand hovering over Hinata's shoulder in a hesitant offering of comfort. "Hinata-chan," she pleaded, her voice strained, "Please, calm down."
Kakashi, his gaze downcast, stared at the rough stone beneath his feet. Hinata's words, laced with such raw pain and righteous anger, left him speechless. The almost widow of Naruto, was anything but gentle, betraying her known image.
Sasuke couldn't let his one and only support at that moment be alone, and bear the burns from the moon-eyed broken doll, Kakashi didn't deserve that from her, Sasuke did.
Sasuke called out for her, extending his step towards her, "Hinata-"
She recoiled, her back pressed against the cold iron bars of the memorial gate. She raised a hand, palm open, a stern order for him to cease his approach, "Don't come closer, don't talk to me, don't exist."
Her words were sharper than his Katana, they cut him harshly, somewhere deeper within his darkness, "I.. I didn't-" A choked rasp escaped his throat as he struggled to fight the emptiness within him which was hit by her words which coiled around his heart like a barbed arrow and pierced.
He should have known better to justify in front of a grieving lover of Naruto; he should have known that his reasoning wouldn't work on her, he was his sinner, and no matter what he could do or say would have changed anything for them. He was the villain in her narrative, the architect of her devastation, and no amount of explanation could bridge the chasm that yawned between them.
"I blame you...for everything." Her eyes lifted to meet him, onyx meeting the white, darkness meeting the light. "Why didn't you die instead of him?" A trembling gasp escaped her mouth, a hitch in her breath, a twisted expression on her dainty features, a shudder wracked her slender frame. "He was the kindest, wasn't he? And you...you were you...then why isn't he here instead of...you." Disdain coated her every word, resentment danced in the purple hues of her eyes. The revulsion was loud in her quivering tone.
Why didn't you die, Sasuke? A question that she asked, mirrored his own dilemma. Her words were like a hammer blow to his already fractured mindset.
"I ask myself the same question," he said, slowly. Eyes not wavering from hers, and she stood resolute on her stance of bruising him, punishing him.
The once perfect and the kindest Hinata Hyuga was notably cruel to Sasuke. Unmistakably revolted towards him. Her resolve was an iron wall, barring him from any redemption.
"Save me from this fake innocence, I don't trust a word you said to the council," she dryly snapped. The wind whipped strands of hair across her tear-streaked face, momentarily obscuring the raw pain etched there, making her tuck them behind her hair with a harsh tug.
The once delicate and fragile Hinata Hyuga was strikingly stubborn towards Sasuke. Decidedly dreadful about him.
Kakashi's eyes lifted from the ground after his prolonged silence, and he squeezed Sasuke's wrist a bit before he let them go. "Kawaki's report corroborated Sasuke's claims."
Hinata's body trembled under the onslaught of gushes of breeze which rustled her flowy dress and made her already moist eyes water. "Hokage-sama must have forgotten his past attempts at Naruto's life, but right now...I can't. Hence, I am unable to take anything of what he said during the council meeting at face value. I don't trust this man. And I don't think he deserves to stand before a grave which he himself dug for someone."
Sasuke felt the world tilt on its axis. The ghosts of his past materialized before him, a relentless chorus of accusations. He knew she wasn't entirely wrong. His history was stained with malice, even if his actions towards Naruto had been a twisted necessity. But to be condemned for a crime he hadn't committed, yet simultaneously bear the weight of his past transgressions – it was a perverse kind of torture – it wrangled his charcoal-shaded soul and gnawed at his last remaining dignity. I deserve this. He accepted.
He conceded, "You have the right to blame me." He acknowledged. His voice was barely audible, barely above a quivering whisper.
A sob wracked her body as she stepped in his space, the distance between them diminishing with her approaching with a couple of steps. "Yes! He loved you and you shoved a fist at his heart! You should...wallow in guilt!" She jabbed her two slender fingers at his hard and shallow chest. Each touch was a searing brand on him.
Each poke, a reverberating pain.
Guilt. Oh, Hinata! That is all I have. His insides felt like they were being ripped apart, a fitting punishment for the monster he had become.
Shikamaru, sensing the impending explosion, materialized beside Hinata. His hand, calloused but gentle, settled on her arm, a silent plea for calm. "The ceremony is about to begin," he murmured, "Let's go inside."
Her jabbing finger on his chest, pulsated with her bluish-purple chakra. And a mere brush of her finger on the chest again made him rethink the intensity of her grief as she sent a fresh jolt of pain in his limbs. He flinched involuntarily, a wince contorting his features as she spat her words, each syllable laced with venomous fury, "You deserve to be in his place right now!"
Her icy fingers, imbued with lethal intent, migrated to his neck, seeking the vulnerable pressure point nestled between his collarbone. Around them, the scene devolved into chaos. Sakura's pleas for Hinata to stop were drowned out by Shikamaru's frantic attempts to restrain her. But he had to step back due to chakra oozing out of every pore of her skin.
Hinata was way shorter than him, her head reached his chest, therefore, she had to tilt her head up and glare at him, with those pearly eyes of hers which carried nothing but the desire for his demise. Her lightly brushing finger on the spot between his collarbone and neck was blazing. The tender skin between his collarbone and neck screamed in agony as she pressed her finger there, a searing pain that spread through his veins and muscles, leaving a burning imprint on his pale flesh.
But Sasuke endured. He deserved it.
Sasuke's voice, raspy and strained, emerged in gasps between his choked breaths. Each inhalation was a battle against the excruciating pain inflicted by her relentless assault, "I... I just...want to bid farewell to him."
"You don't deserve that!" she shrieked, her voice a whip, her finger digging deeper into his pressure point. The world blurred at the edges, his vision narrowing until all that remained was the stark contrast of her white skin and the chilling blue of her hair.
Her horrifyingly strong fingers moved away from his neck, he breathed in a sigh of relief. "I hate you, Sasuke. I hate you so much!" Her words were raw and wounding, a sharp ache settling within his bones as she fisted her hands around his collar flaps and pulled him down, to face her at her height. "You don't have any right to visit him! Do you understand? I don't allow it, at all." If it was not the sparkling tears streaming down her face, he would have considered that only he knew the real Hinata, the raging doll. The stranger to the rest of Konoha.
Because the Hinata who he saw through the glinting eyes of Naruto and Sakura, wasn't the same woman at that moment who caused him a searing pain in his body as well as an unyielding anguish through her straining words.
The murmur of mourners drifted towards them, a cacophony of hushed whispers and sniffles. Children, accompanied by their tearful parents, approached Naruto's grave, leaving behind offerings of flowers and whispered remembrances. A group of boisterous civilians gathered nearby, their voices filled with a mixture of grief and nostalgia as they recounted supposed tales of the legendary Naruto Uzumaki.
The cold heart of Sasuke leapt at the possibility of not ever visiting Naruto's grave; he accepted Hinata's protesting punishment. But can I really endure? He wondered about the nagging doubt about his willpower.
Among the chatter of strangers entering and exiting the cemetery, suddenly, a piercing wail cut through the murmur of the crowd. Hinata's head snapped towards the sound, her eyes widening in surprise for a fleeting moment. Then, with a swiftness born of desperation, she shoved Sasuke back and rushed to her left.
There, Sakura stood cradling a wailing baby, no more than two months old, his face buried in the crook of her neck. Hinata picked the baby from her, and soothing words were uttered into his ear, a stark contrast to what Hinata managed to speak to him.
Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Whiskered face. Thin lips. Slightly tanned skin, unlike Hinata's.
He was a spitting image of Naruto.
The wailing infant quieted in Hinata's embrace, his light sobs hiccupping into a soft whimper. Sasuke's gaze met the child's, a collision of onyx and the startling blue of Naruto's legacy. Instead, the baby's eyes met the bleeding red with dark swirls and subconsciously, his Rinnegan felt a twitch rippling within when he peered at the baby.
Then it clicked. Oh, no! But...how?
Sasuke's existence was frozen, comprehension leaving every fibre of his body as gears of his mind ground to halt. Patience was already thin. He brushed his hand over his forehead, and found the droplets of sweat forming under the contrasting onslaught of chill air.
Sasuke instantly felt like a lurking ghost, who saw much more than he expected, wandering through the unnoticed and unexpected and letting the burning flare of anticipated complexities consume his mind. Not possible. He thought hard, echoes of impossibilities yelled in the wasteland of his mind.
Yet what his incredible eyes saw and felt, caused a storm to rage on. He couldn't fathom the severity but he knew...it was dangerous. The Rinnegan pulsed at the back with renewed urgency and the Sharingan had turned to his usual dark orb once the crimson faded into dark depths.
Hinata, her face etched with raw grief that went beyond mere words, spun on her heel and retreated towards the memorial without another string of punishments for him.
Shikamaru, his brow etched with concern, followed behind, offering a silent nod to Sasuke before bowing his head to Kakashi.
Sakura, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from tears, brushed a gentle hand against Sasuke's cheek before squeezing Kakashi's arm reassuringly. With a final, lingering glance at Sasuke, she hurried after Hinata, seeking solace in their shared grief.
"This was expected," Kakashi muttered.
Sasuke nodded, "She...-"
"Don't think ill of her, she is never like this. But...the pain of his loss is too huge, also she just gave birth-"
"I don't think I have any capacity left in me to think ill of anyone, especially Naruto's woman," Sasuke shrugged, the waves of uncertainty coiling within him, churning new worries. His chest where guilt and regret once resided, was now yawning with new-found decisions and the courage for it.
He knew what he was about to commit to, could drastically alter the course of his life. And hers.
But he also was sure, because that would be what Naruto wanted.
As always, the weight of his past transgressions hung heavy, driving him to offer Naruto a final act of atonement, a desperate attempt to repay a debt he could never truly settle.
A hint of uncertainty coloured his tone, "Kakashi wait!" he called out to his sensei. Thinking that if he was doing something utterly wrong, his teacher would talk him out of it. Kakashi, who had his hand on the iron gate to the cemetery, turned around to shoot him a raised eyebrow.
Gulping, he closed his eyes for a second.
He ensured to not have his voice waver, but his own resolve betrayed him, "I want that arm, that Hashirama cell or whatever. After I am released, I want you to approve of it." Like anything he had ever said to Kakashi, that demand also was verbalised as a command but the hidden shade of plea was not unnoticed by Kakashi.
Kakashi approached Sasuke with a slow, measured gait, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "You refused it before, even when Naruto himself pressed you," he stated, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity. A veiled question.
"If I am going to commit to Naruto's last wish, I would need the arm," Sasuke said as he looked up at the sky, gone was the bright blue and white, and now the dipping sun bathed the entire sky with the last remaining orange before the darkness of twilight blue could engulf the wide-spanning sky above him.
"And his last wish was?" Kakashi queried, following the trail of Sasuke's wistful gaze at the sky.
"He wanted me to take care of his family. And...I would need the damn arm for it," Sasuke's gaze dipped and he peered at the gaping expression of Kakashi.
"What are you thinking of doing, Sasuke?" His question held a fear of upcoming chaos that Kakashi would have to weather, no matter what. Because Sasuke was determined, and adamant enough to atone through a promise made to Naruto. A silent oath sworn to Naruto in the waning moments of his life.
Sasuke almost choked on his words; however, he mustered up the courage to voice out. He crossed his arm across his chest, to steady his shivering frame, to not give away his shaking resolve, "I can't leave her alone. I can't leave the child alone. There was an unsaid promise with Naruto when he took his last breath in my arms, I can't...not honour that. After all that Naruto had done for me, I can't rob him of his peace."
Kakashi's frustration crackled in the air. "She didn't even let you visit his grave!" Kakashi shook his arm, a harsh tug, as if he wanted to feed him some sanity, to jolt some sense into him.
Several ANBU materialized from the periphery, their dark uniforms blending into the shadows as they approached. But a single, steely glare from Sasuke, backed by a silent nod from Kakashi, the esteemed Sixth Hokage, sent them scurrying back into the gloom.
Their silent exchange spoke volumes, a testament to the power Sasuke still wielded. Yet, a mere kunoichi subjected him to the worst punishments. What power? Sasuke was powerless in the face of his sins.
"I took away her shelter, I might as well become one for them. Her pathetic excuse of a clan has taken their name, the last bit of protection she could rely on...and it is not about her only, the child...he has no name. He is not a Hyuga by law or a Uzumaki, he is truly alone. Even worse than how Naruto and I were."
Tunnel vision engulfed him. The cemetery blurred into a kaleidoscope of colours, the only point of focus the stoic figure of Kakashi before him and the gleaming memorial stone beyond the gate. Etched upon its surface was Naruto's name. Crouched beside the stone, a stark silhouette against the fading sunlight, was a woman with cascading midnight hair. A sleeping baby, his whiskered cheeks a perfect replica of Naruto's, nestled contentedly against her shoulder.
That was all that mattered.
That was all he could see.
Kakashi gritted his teeth, his disapproval etched on his weathered face. "She won't accept you, Sasuke." His voice resonated with a deep-seated understanding of Hinata's grief.
Sasuke returned his unwavering gaze. "She'll have to." Finality hung heavy in his single word.
Kakashi's hand slid up Sasuke's arm, his grip tightening around the collar of his black shirt. "You can't force her, Sasuke!" He seethed. Tired of Sasuke's antics.
Sasuke made no move to break free, his own turmoil mirroring Kakashi's. He understood the concern etched on his former sensei's face. "She will have to, Kakashi," he countered, his voice low but firm. "Because her child... he has the Nine-Tailed Chakra within him."
Kakashi recoiled, a gasp escaping his lips. "What? That's impossible!"
"My Rinnegan saw it," Sasuke explained, his voice tight with urgency. "A spike in chakra, indicating the presence of a powerful entity. Perhaps, after years of being bound to Naruto, Kurama's chakra... somehow intertwined with his own... and now..." He trailed off, frustration colouring his tone. "I'm not sure. The signal is faint, but growing. It might not be Kurama reborn, but we can't take that risk. You need to keep an eye on them for these four months, then...I will be enough. Hopefully."
The weight of Sasuke's revelation threatened to overwhelm Kakashi. An inborn Nine-Tailed Beast! The implications were catastrophic. He withdrew his hand from Sasuke's collar, his mind racing, "An in-born nine-tailed beast! That can be the worst thing of this world!" he worried as he rubbed his chin instinctively. Then he looked up, questions swimming in his dark stare, "You can't devote your entire life-"
"I can and I will," Sasuke interrupted.
Kakashi offered, "Till now, Haru hasn't shown any sign that can be suspicious."
"You need to get Tsunade's knowledge here along with...that Orochimaro. Order him to prepare a seal, for a precautionary measure. And put the fear of me in him so he doesn't sneak."
Kakashi mused, ignoring another mask-clad ANBU materialising behind him to call him, "I can take back your four-month jail time, or reduce the time-"
Sasuke shook his head, sighing deeply, "It is fine. Perhaps this would give Hinata some satisfaction. Seeing her lover's killer locked away."
Two ANBU materialised around him with practised efficiency, their movements swift and silent. Chakra-dampening cuffs, cold metal against his warm skin, were snapped onto his wrist. A Dojutsu-sealing blindfold followed the darkness a suffocating embrace despite the thin fabric.
Sasuke could have easily broken free, and shattered these restraints like twigs, but he held himself still. He endured.
For her, he had to. For her acceptance, he allowed himself to be thrown into the dirt and dragged.
Dust swirled around his booted feet as they navigated the cobblestone pathway.
Kakashi barked out orders to the ANBU escorting Sasuke. "No visitor shall be allowed without my permission. Only Fox and Raven will guard his cells with rotation of shift with Hound and Snake." ANBU nodded and Sasuke ignored the deadpanned looks thrown at him by the civilians and shinobi who were exiting or entering the cemetery.
Sasuke ignored the deadpan stares thrown his way by civilians and shinobi alike, a mix of fear and disdain. The official story painted a different picture – Naruto, a hero slain by the monstrous Otsutsuki threat, Ishikki, in a valiant last stand. Sasuke, on the other hand, was a rogue element, punished for using a forbidden jutsu during a mission. This public narrative shielded him from the worst of their ire.
So, it was easier to ignore the whispers of those unknown to him or the dagger-like glares at him, aiming to gouge out his eyes.
Except only one's.
Hers.
Hinata.
Her eyes were tough; pale, icy and empty. Angry and resentful. Cursing and biting.
Her words were pressing; too sharp, too demanding and too cruel.
As they led him towards the cold embrace of bars and chains, he felt his existence being pressed by the weight of a fated promise of Naruto and the fated punishment of Hinata, leaving no room for atonement for Sasuke.
His mind, once a labyrinth of self-serving ambition, now craved a cleansing breath, a purging of the demons that had festered within for so long. His life had taken a sharp turn, a new path demanding him to prioritise another's well-being above his own, or else, he was going to lose everything. He couldn't lose her.
How do I do this, Naruto? He wondered, his eyes replaying their childhood, to find any interaction he ever had with her. He never could find any memory of them together. In some of the memories, she was around, lurking...and her eyes only focused on Naruto.
How do I make her see me, Naruto? He asked. He asked the swirling air around him, the wafting smell of the incense and cocktail of the scent of multiple flowers, citrusy or fruity or earthy or spicy. Nobody answered. Nothing responded.
He had to figure that part out on his own.
He had to colour himself with hers, be it the crimson red of his blood which she sought.
With a final, unceremonious shove, they confined him in a cramped cell. Even with his sight obscured, the suffocating atmosphere of the space pressed down on him. The metallic clang of a lock resonated in the silence, a harsh finality.
He extended his hand; the rattling sound of his cuffs again slammed the walls. His palm rested on the rusty wall with uneven texture and sticky filth plastered. He slowly traced his fingers along its surface, mapping out the perimeter. Its texture was abrasive on his skin and so was the cold floor scraping under his feet.
The stonewall started to feel colder and damper, the paint chipping away and flaking revealing the tiny holes there for absent nails, then a little left, a wooden plate-like structure with a dried crumbled soap.
Basin. He figured out that he had a mirror, a wash basin and mould-struck small cabinet for bare minimum essentials. The steel basin was positioned at a comparatively lower height, forcing him to bend more than usual. Moving along the wall, he kept on counting the steps.
He shuffled to his right, each step measured and hesitant. His foot collided with a cold metal rod, he crouched down a little to touch a metal-framed cot attached to the thick wall, almost enough for only one person to lie down. Patting on the thin mattress thrown on the cot, with rustling coarse sheets and a flat pillow, he found that he could have no comfort, serves you right, Sasuke.
Unable to discern whether the cramped cell harboured any source of light, Sasuke flung himself onto the cot. The metal legs screeched in protest, dragging harshly against the rough floor under the weight of his body.
There was not much sound around him, the pressing silence was often broken only by the occasional swish of air through unseen tunnels, the faint drip-drip-drip from a leaky faucet, and the distant echo of footsteps somewhere beyond the confines of his cell.
Escape was not an option. Not that he wanted. But with the chakra-induced lock, closely mounted bars and the hidden ANBU outside the main gate – it was a hassle, a possible hassle though. But that was his chosen confinement, no matter how utterly miserable it was making him feel.
He would endure it.
He couldn't Chidori his own chest, so he needed to feel other sorts of pain. The self-inflicted torment.
As time stretched into an eternity, he knew the true agony was yet to come – the relentless onslaught of his own nightmares, visions that clawed their way into his fractured mind.
Worse than Chidori. Worse than Madara's attack piercing him. A pain, which truly he knew.
He knew the night had fallen, for those nightmares started to claw their way inside his burning brain to begin their merciless assault. His body writhed on the screeching cot, the coarse sheets tangling around his trembling legs. The flat pillow which he slammed over his face to muffle the whimpers made it harder for him to breathe yet he gritted his teeth against the throbbing pain that lanced through his skull.
The vivid crimson and obsidian hues of his nightmares offered no mercy. They spun him through a chaotic kaleidoscope of his deepest regrets, his misaligned thoughts fuelling their ferocity. The strain from the Chakra-sealed blindfold mingled with the throbbing of his desecrating mental strength and started to make his sole onyx eye bleed, marking a streak on his pale face.
A sharp sting pulsated in his eye ached his temples, reverberated in his joints and stained his face with nothing but blood. Sticky blood marred his cheek, a bit on his skin, and tasted metallic on his tongue.
The nightmare or vision or his own thoughts – they were loud and pounding.
Sasuke was unable to form any words. The sizzling pain roared instead, drowning out any of his coherent words.
Only ragged gasps escaped his lips, punctuated by the rattle of his chains as his fist slammed into the cold stone wall. He tore the pillow away, gasping for breath. His soul cried out in a silent scream, a raw agony that manifested as a crimson tide weeping from his eye, soaking the fabric of the blindfold.
Itachi, leave me alone.
The voice of his berated mind demanded.
Naruto, just come back, please.
The voice of his spiralling mind pleaded.
But those two men kept their tantalizing hold over him; making sleep an unreachable dream. Making peace an undeserved luxury for him.
.
.
The four months of his penance began.
The first month was the most tormenting; with his blindfolded eyes, he was unable to catch any light. The dark thoughts of his days as a blind boy haunted at the back of his mind. Scaring him, lost of sight, lost of way, the impending possibilities stretched before him in his various contemplation sessions.
Each night, as exhaustion finally coaxed him towards a sliver of sleep, his nightmares erupted, tearing him from the precipice of slumber and tormenting his soul. They were ravenous beats that tore him apart and exposed his raw bones and flesh for the world to feed on.
The struggles with those fucking nightmares strained his eyes, making them bleed. Clawed at his heart, making it hard for him to breathe. Burned his body, making it sweat profusely. Choking his throat, silencing any cry for help he could hope to let out. He could feel his lightning-fire-based chakra pulsing through his veins, searing the path, without any outlet because of Chakra-dampening cuffs.
He knew, with a chilling certainty, that without these restraints, the cell walls would bear the brunt of his fury. Chidori, a storm of crackling lightning, would reduce them to destroyed rubble. The iron bars would succumb to the fury of his lightning blades, sheared apart with contemptuous ease. He envisioned unleashing a torrent of crackling black lightning, merging with the throbbing power of his Mangekyo Sharingan, to obliterate the tunnel itself.
His agony had been limitless, he couldn't speak about it with anyone. Only Naruto knew.
Only he fathomed the depths of wounds Sasuke possessed and endured. The demons that Sasuke festered within himself were now eating him away, chipping at his strength. Only Naruto knew about it.
Perhaps, he should have really died. For the pain would have ended.
The second month was not anything better, however, the grim habits started to cling to him. Rusted awake from a night of terror, the Hound ANBU would escort him, a phantom in the darkness, to the restroom at the tunnel's end.
Returning to his cell, a cold, damp cage, he would perform a mockery of hygiene, by the steel basin with ice-cold water and the crusted blood from the corner of his eyes would still not be washed away due to the damn blindfold.
Then in the name of breakfast, he got meagre sustenance through an almost stale bread with some rendition of a butter. After that, he would go back to wallow in his guilt and regrets, relinquishing his grip on his waning pride after every string of thought. Nightfall brought the predictable return of his nightmares, a vicious cycle that left him battered and broken, at times also have him thrashing of his body to the walls to quell the pain.
His eyes ached, his chest yelled, his feet had relentless cramps, his neck was stiff and his stomach churned with the need to vomit out whatever he consumed. He was a ghost, a wraith, existing for the purposeless life.
But he knew, he had a purpose, a fated promise, owed to his one and only best friend.
At times, the thoughts of Naruto brought real tears to his eyes, hot and brimming, trailing a path down his cheek, cleaning away the faint tainted path of blood tears that his nightmares used to paint. If Naruto was here, he'd visit.
Nobody visited him.
Not that he expected.
But...a part of him felt truly alone, for the first time.
He knew why Kakashi hadn't visited, the council was already on his ass, breathing down on his neck. Sakura...needed time, to process all that. He could feel that she didn't blame him, but it must have been hard for her to face the man who took away her friend who was like a brother to her.
No wonder why Orochimaru and Itachi were hell-bent on having Sasuke kill Naruto, for he was his one and only true bond.
They'd fixated on severing the bond between him and Naruto, believing it would unlock a bottomless well of hatred, a key to unlocking unimaginable power. But the truth was far more brutal. That final clash hadn't ignited a raging inferno of hate; it had left him shattered from the core, a hollow shell of his former self.
They were wrong. Severing that bond wouldn't have led him down a path of power; it would have broken him beyond repair.
The third month offered a sliver of reprieve. The nightmares, once relentless predators, stalked him less frequently. He no longer needed to slam his head against the cold stone floor in a desperate attempt to jolt himself awake from his tormented sleep. The scent of disinfectant and burnt coals used to linger in the cells and it used to bother him a lot, but scents used to be his way to counter his nightmares – a sign of grounding himself to the present.
But the routine had settled upon him, he often engaged in light workout like one-armed push-ups or planks or pull-ups as he lunged on the iron beams on the ceiling. Time went on and on, bruising him with each passing tick. Stripping him off of his strength to face what he planned on doing as a part of his promise.
It was as if a thousand needles of doubt and self-loathing were piercing his heart with each passing moment, leaving behind a tapestry of scars that only he could see. But couldn't heal.
Can I really take care of your family, Naruto? A question that he had been avoiding for past three months came blazing at him in one of the nights where instead of his nightmares, his visions of the past made him question himself, leaving him bare with the chilling and freezing roiling feeling pooling at the depth of his soul.
Hinata hates me, Naruto. She wants me dead. How...how do I take care of her, give me any signs. Sasuke wasn't religious, Ninjas weren't really devout. But he prayed to any God who could listen, to take his message to Naruto, for he desperately needed answers. Answers to his worries. Naruto knew Hinata the best, and Sasuke never knew Hinata. But Naruto wasn't there, instead, unfortunately, Sasuke was.
If it was not out of respect for Naruto, he would have taken his own life, a long time ago. He intended to die beside Itachi, but things were finally hopeful with Naruto...but now that the future wasn't hopeful, he felt no need of his in the universe. Only a fragile thread of Naruto's promise and the gripping hold of his trust him made him continue, kept him afloat to live, and kept Sasuke tethered to a lifeline.
Otherwise, Hinata was right. He shouldn't have existed.
But he chose to exist. For her.
Whether she liked it or not. She had to accept it. He didn't have any other way.
The fourth month, the last one, was considerably a lot better. Because instead of the stale food's smell or the suffocating smoke of burning logs and leaves, Sasuke's dulling and diminishing presence was met with the soft scent of cherry blossoms.
Because Sakura had finally visited him. He couldn't sense her Chakra, for he had like only a drop of his own chakra inside him. But he listened to her soft steps, her small gasps of halted breathing, her scent becoming overpowering with each thud of her sandal. Her frame neared his, moment by moment.
"Sasuke-kun," she whispered, her hand gripping the bars, he could feel it. "Open the gates, I have Hokage's permit. See," she commanded the other presence which was looming around his cell's door.
A metallic clang shattered the oppressive silence as the cell door swung open. The sound jolted Sasuke from his introspective reverie, allowing Sakura's presence to truly settle upon him.
Sasuke remained perched on his weary cot, his feet tapping the cold ground with a listless rhythm, his head hung low. He felt a presence hovering opposite him, he lifted up his head to meet the eyes of Sakura. The green of them met the white of his blindfold. Not white, red. Red by his blood.
"It took Kakashi-sensei a bit of time to pull some strings to grant you permission to stay in here without this," Her gentle hands, surprisingly cool despite the oppressive heat of the cell, reached out to brush against the matted strands of his hair. With a swift, practised movement, she unwound the blindfold. "Council argued that you could destroy the cells if we left your eyes unbound."
A sardonic chuckle escaped Sasuke's lips "Council has a lot of unnecessary opinions," Sasuke replied. The blindfold was discarded in the metal bin beside his basin. His eyes fluttered open, the blur of his vision cleared after a few blinks.
Sakura stood before him, a familiar figure clad in her signature crimson attire. Her hair once cropped short, had grown to graze her shoulders, a subtle marker of the passage of time. The pallor that had haunted her face just three months prior, a reflection of Konoha's collective grief, had given way to a faint blush that crept up her cheeks. Her lips were glossed with a subtle sheen, but it was the glint in her eyes that truly captured his attention. She looked like she didn't hate him. He sighed at the realization.
He roamed his eyes around the cell for the first time and wasn't disappointed because it was exactly how he imagined. The warmly lit, cold cell. Ran down walls, with holes in them. Rusted iron as the gate, where bronze coloured emerged as the paint chipped away. One thing which he never noticed was the rectangular space, high up on the wall, acting as a pathetic excuse for a window. No wonder, he never could gauge.
"You don't stink," Sakura squinted her nose, with a light playful smirk.
"They do allow me to bath every day." He shrugged.
"Good! It is your last month, right? Have you been thinking of what you want to do?" Sakura asked, rubbing his face with a clean towel. He felt subtle flutter settling in his chest, knowing that someone cared. At least, someone did.
Not the way Naruto did. Or Itachi did.
But care was care. He should have taken what he got without any complaints anyway.
Sasuke grasped her wrist, stopping her movements, because he was aware that she wasn't interested in his future steps right away, "You are avoiding," he accused.
She withdrew her hand from his grip with a slight tug, "I am not avoiding. I don't think there is anything to talk about...regarding that matter."
Obviously, the self-sabotaging and self-pitying side of Sasuke had to ruin the moment of solace, despite being a beggar for it for months, "That matter? You mean the one where I killed Naruto?"
"What do you want? Me to blame you?" Sakura huffed, exasperated, her brows furrowed.
He rose to his feet, towering over her, in a desperate attempt to assert some semblance of dominance in this suffocating cell. "I want to know the truth," he growled, trying to feign indifference to her answer. "Do you blame me?"
She whispered, "I wouldn't be here if I did." She patted his chest, calming him down. The knots of anxious fury building up within his bones began to lose. "Nobody really blames you. It is only the council or elders of the clans...otherwise, us, the rookie group...we have come to the understanding that it was a battle strategy gone wrong. I think...you taking up this punishment was a good step, to prove your loyalty to Naruto."
"Ino, Shikamaru, Kiba, Choji, Shino and you. The rookies. Lee and his other teammate are to believe the public narrative," he stated, looking for confirmation.
Sakura offered a wan smile. "Yes, even Sai. He was one of the ANBU guards during your interrogation, you know." A sigh escaped her lips, a soft sound that echoed in the stale air. "We've talked about it a lot, Sasuke, debated it from every angle. But I know you, and I know you're not a coward. Back then, when you wanted to..." She faltered, swallowing hard, "When you wanted to kill him, you were open about it. Sneaking around wouldn't have been your style. Despite the doubts," she finished, her voice gaining strength, "we trust you."
Sasuke pointedly looked at her, "Not everyone."
Sakura's soft smile faltered, "Hm?"
Sasuke's voice almost croaked, "Not her. You didn't mention her."
"Who?" Sakura asked.
"Hinata." His jaw clenched.
"Sasuke-kun..." Sakura looked down, nervously her fingers toyed with the end of her hair.
He questioned, "What does she believe?" Prepared to hear what he expected, what he had been thinking about for the last few months.
"She..." Sakura began.
Sasuke held her arm, in a state of a weird urgency, "Still detests me?"
Sakura started, "Hinata has changed a lot. Giving birth to Haru took a toll on her physically and mentally and then just two months later, the news of Naruto...it has disturbed her on emotional levels." She felt pressed by the weight of her grief, Sasuke could read her face, "She doesn't meet us much too, she...isn't in the right state of mind or heart to make a decision about you clearly."
Sasuke's eyes downcast, dejected, "Expected." The sane part of his brain chided him for having any glimmer of hope.
Sakura held his arm, rubbing slowly, "But it isn't just about you, Sasuke-kun."
He frowned, "What do you mean?"
Sakura squeezed his arm as she began explaining, "Perhaps if Hinata hadn't gone through pregnancy and hadn't given birth...then her reaction towards your truth could have been starkly different. Hinata-chan isn't someone who would curse death upon anyone."
"I don't understand."
Sakura's thin patience had started to wane, he could see frustration flaring in her eyes, "Pregnancy and post-pregnancy are states which are very complicated to understand. So, what I am telling you is that...her anger isn't just because she thinks you killed him."
He genuinely was trying to wrap his mind around her words, "She definitely thinks I killed him." But failed.
Sakura huffed and rolled her eyes at him, putting both of her hands on either side of her hips, "Yes, she does, but that doesn't mean that she is conscious of it!" A flash of her old fiery spirit momentarily lit up her eyes as she elaborated.
Sasuke gaped, "What?"
She groaned, "She was already going through her post-partum depression, which is something women go through after birth and it is very traumatizing. Then once she had to go through the loss of Naruto, her entire world collapsed. And her thoughts...they aren't the exact reflection of what our true Hinata would feel. She is basically sick right now, once she heals...there is a possibility that she'd see you and your actions differently." Her brow furrowed in concern as she studied his impassive expression.
Sasuke stared at her, "It is hard for me to grasp all of this."
"Of course, typical men!" Sakura groaned again. She pushed him down on his cot. He followed, without riling her up even more.
Deciding to shift the conversation, he rasped, "How is...his child?"
Sakura's eyes beamed as she settled beside him, "Haru! Oh, he is a beautiful little ball of sunshine."
"Haru..." Sasuke let the name roll out of his tongue in a whisper. He thought it would feel like a sin. But it didn't. He filled his chest with a feeling of relief. A solace.
Sakura chimed, "Oh! You should know, Ino gave birth to a baby boy too, his name is Inojin. He is so freaking cute, Sasuke. He is about to turn three months old and Haru will be six months old."
"Yamanaka?"
"Yes of course. Which other Ino do you know," she shoved his arm.
"But she was there at my council session. And with whom?"
"She was heavily pregnant when she attended, didn't you notice? Or you thought that...calorie calculator Ino just had the random thought of gaining weight?" Sakura rambled, "And Sai is the father."
He blurted, "Him?" he regretted once he ended up voicing out his word with a very disrespectful jab.
Sakura grunted. "Behave! What do you mean, 'him'? Sai is amazing!" She bristled, her green eyes flashing with indignation.
"Ah, I didn't mean...any disrespect. Just surprised," he partially lied. A pang of jealousy crept up his spine to see that even his replacement who was a tool of Danzo, ended up sorting his life but he, the mighty fallen Sasuke Uchiha, couldn't hold onto any shred of stability in his demeaning life.
A bitter pill to swallow.
"You are welcomed by the way...in our gathering. Just because Naruto isn't here to force you, it doesn't mean we don't have a place for you," Sakura smiled brightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
He shrugged, "Thank you."
Sakura rose from the cot, brushing dust off her crimson attire. She scanned the cramped cell, a deep sigh escaping her lips. "Just come back to us soon, Sasuke-kun," she said, her voice laced with a newfound urgency. "We're waiting for you.
He echoed, "We?"
Sakura's smile turned into a droopy frown on her lips, "Yes, Naruto and I." She then added a humourless chuckle, "Because...I am sure he is looking at us, grinning just the way he does, hoping that you will mess up again and I will be bawling again and Kakashi will be trying to salvage again. So, yes, we are waiting!"
He looked away, at the ceiling to the dangling bulb that illuminated the cell as it cast shadows of multiple patterns on the wall. "I miss him."
"I miss him too. It is quite cruel...how...how I never got to have you both together with me and Kakashi...even after the war, you left. And now...he did," The tremble in her voice made him look at her.
"I am sorry," he murmured and held her hand, giving it a light squeeze. She sobbed. He didn't dare to look at her again, to see the tears. He had enough of his guilt. He didn't need more.
"Bye Sasuke-kun, see you soon," she remarked. Taking her hand away from his grip, she squeezed his shoulder as a sign of strength and left his cell, her retreating shadow vanished amidst the encroaching darkness of the tunnel.
Sakura's arrival was a fresh touch, none of his confusions were answered, however, they were intensified. But, her touch in his colourless life added a speck of hope, that he was still welcomed in Konoha. Naruto's departure didn't take that away from him.
The fourth month turned out better, with his eyes wide open. His vision was not constricted by the awful and stinging blindfold. He could see himself. Even at his miserable moment where he had to fight the demons of his thoughts – the bare minimum chakra mingled with his powerful eyes of, couldn't quell the scorching heat of the hits that his nightmares, his visions and his own thoughts caused.
But at least, he could see himself and the surroundings.
He wasn't a blind man anymore.
And that's how his four-month journey ended.
The lingering effects of his ordeal were evident in the way his muscles screamed in protest with the slightest movement. The scorching embers of his nightmares and self-loathing continued to weigh within him, a constant reminder of the demons he battled each night.
ANBU led him outside the tunnelled prisons where the flickering torches cast dancing shadows on the damp walls and then once they reached the gates, they uncaged his wrist. Kakashi was there to welcome him with a grin.
"Have you done what I've asked for," Sasuke asked, holding no other conversation.
Kakashi nudged his arm to walk, and they both followed their path to Hokage's office, "My permission has been granted. You will have to spend a week or so with Sakura and Shizune to get all the compatibility tests and then the surgery. Post-surgery check-ups are a must, Sasuke. No matter if you hate it!"
Sasuke grunted, a semblance of his old arrogance flickering briefly in his eyes. "And the other matter...Orochimaru?"
"Both Tsunade and Orochimaru are bound by a blood oath to keep their silence about Haru's condition," Kakashi explained, his voice laced with a hint of satisfaction. "I know threats were your usual course of action, but I opted for a more civilized approach."
Kakashi pushed the door of the Hokage office open and sauntered towards his seat where across it, on the desk, a mount of paperwork glared back.
"And the seal?"
Kakashi admitted with his cautious tone, "Orochimaro has worked on something. Don't know if it would work. He was ready to implement it-"
"He isn't touching Naruto's son in my absence!" Sasuke growled.
Kakashi held up a hand, silencing him with a stern look. "Learn to listen, Sasuke," Kakashi curtly added, "Do you think I'd trust Orochimaro like that? Don't you think I'd care for Naruto too?"
His questions didn't require any answers. So, Sasuke ended up sitting opposite Kakashi with an acknowledging silence.
Kakashi began explaining, "The seal is different from the Tailed-beast seals since this case is about a... naturally born nine-tailed beast. Since Haru is just six months old, the seal has to be re-done monthly or in some extreme cases, twice a month."
"Did you tell Hinata?" Sasuke leaned forward on the chair.
He shook his head, "Nobody knows about Haru's Chakra signature except you, me, Orochimaro and Tsunade."
Sasuke burdened another duty upon himself, "I will tell her."
"What are you planning to do with her."
Sasuke leaned back, his eyes shutting, as he inhaled, "I don't have any plan yet. I just want to make sure she understands that I am here, for her and for her child, whether she likes it or not."
Kakashi warned, "Just be cautious with her. Hinata-chan is going through so much."
"I won't disappoint Naruto this time," his eyes wide open and met the grey ceiling. White lights were hanging from the beams and reflected in the black and purple of his eyes. He sat up straight, shooting a suspiciously conflicting look at Kakashi, who already started to massage his temples without hearing Sasuke's next words, "So ... about Naruto's will..."
.
.
.
The porch light cast a warm honey glow on Sasuke's face, a stark contrast to the twilight sky that cloaked the house in an inky blue shroud. He clutched the rolled parchment in his hand, his knuckles white with tension, while his newly restored left arm swung awkwardly at his side. Two and a half years without a limb had left him with a strange sense of habitual solace, a phantom limb replaced by a solid appendage that felt foreign yet familiar.
Dominant since his birth, his left hand now felt clumsy and unreliable. Sakura's instructions echoed in his mind – visits every other day for check-ups, for at least three grueling months. He loathed the prospect, but there were no alternatives.
Taking a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the newly-furnished brown door. His onyx eyes scanned the surroundings. A cobblestone path snaked through the garden, bisecting the lush green lawn and leading to a wrought-iron gate at the far end.
Blooming flowers and large leaves swayed gently in the evening breeze, their vibrant colours a stark contrast to the sombre mood that clung to him like a second skin, reflected in the way he dressed – black high-collared shirt and black slacks.
A small, round wooden table with four mismatched chairs sat invitingly on the right side of the garden, a scattering of stuffed toys nestled in the middle. He sighed, darting his eyes back on the unresponsive door. The silence from the door was a deafening roar at his turmoil.
He rapped on the wood, with heightened pressure. A frustration-filled hiss escaped his mouth.
With the bubbling fury, before his fist could punch on the door, the door swung open with a faint creaking sound, revealing a gaunt figure framed by the doorway.
A white ankle-length dress hung on her bony frame loosely, while her long hair draped on either side. Her bangs almost shaded her pale-lilac eyes, her cheeks sunken and worsen with sickly pallor than how he had seen around four and a half months before. Her lips, were chewed and parched. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly as if she was out of breath, which she was, as puffs of hot breath escaped her parted lips.
One hand clutched a well-worn stuffed animal, the other gripping the doorframe for support.
Sasuke felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs by the sight of her, he only managed, "Hello, Hinata."
Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed, a flicker of defiance momentarily chasing away the despair. She shook her head, biting her lower lip until it whitened. Without a word, she started to push the door shut, her frail body straining against the unexpected resistance.
Sasuke's newly restored hand, the palm still unfamiliar yet surprisingly strong, met the door halfway. He pushed back gently, forcing his way inside. "It's my home too, Hinata," he said, "You can't just slam the door at my face like that."
He knew his words had sounded confident, borderline rude. But only he knew the thudding heart in his chest and the scalding heat at the back of his skull.
He dangled the rolled-up parchment in front of her, Naruto's will, which gave him partial ownership of the house. They both knew what the document signified; he didn't have to voice it out.
"No," she breathed out, finally. "Get out." Expected.
Hinata stumbled back, her fragile form colliding with the railing of the staircase that led to the upper floor. Sasuke pressed forward, crossing the threshold of her sanctuary and entering the warmly lit hallway. The door slammed shut behind him with a finality that echoed the hollowness in his own heart.
"So, which room is mine?" he asked, hoping to break the suffocating silence. His words were meant to sound casual, a light attempt at conversation, but the look of pure horror that contorted her face was not the response he'd anticipated. He'd naively believed, despite Sakura and Kakashi's warnings, and even the voice of his own reason, that she would listen.
You are shit, Sasuke. You have no idea how to do this. His sanity slammed him for the words he spoke. He thought they could have a conversation.
She was not willing.
She was trembling.
She was horrified.
Fear, raw and primal, radiated from her like heatwaves.
Her body was wracked with silent sobs.
Shit.
Naruto, I messed up.
He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. His fists balled up, ready to hit his own face.