VI.

Act 2, Scene 2

"Love goes by haps; Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps" -Shakespeare (Much Ado About Nothing)

SASUKE

Death.

Surrounded by death.

That's all I can remember from that disastrous, devastating night.

The sight of my comrades sprawled out on the ground with pools of blood painting their bodies seems to be the only thing to haunt my visions. Other than that, however, the look on Boss' face begs to differ, shining a light on my memories rather than leaving them grim and unanswered.

The tread back to the compound that night was long, quiet, and eerie. There wasn't much that happened on that walk back, not that I was paying much attention to what was in front of me anyway.

Once I had arrived at the compound that night, I wasn't expecting anyone to be there. I was expecting pure silence, not a peep even from a bird.

However, once I arrived, I realized just how wrong I truly was.

"The Black Knights had been captured and detained by the Royal Kingdom,"Boss recites to me, his body visibly slashed and tethered. He was visually exhausted, scratches and scars covering his dirt-riddled skin. Despite his pitiful appearance, he still had a rather determined and vengeful look on his face. I knew from that moment that this fight isn't anywhere near over.

"What can we do now?"I ask, desperate for any kind of answer.

What can we do now?

The words hung between us like smoke—thin, bitter, clinging.

Boss didn't answer right away. He limped toward the cracked stone wall at the edge of the courtyard, lowering himself onto a broken pillar with a grunt. The fire behind his eyes hadn't dimmed, but there was something else now—calculation. Cold, vicious purpose.

"We regroup," he said at last, voice like gravel ground beneath a blade. "And then we destroy them from the inside."

I said nothing. My hands curled into fists at my sides, the ghost of dried blood still clinging to my knuckles. I could still see Ryou's, 3111, eyes staring at nothing. Still smell burnt hair and ash and panic in the air.

"They've gotten arrogant," Boss went on, lifting a flask to his cracked lips. "That little princess... she thinks she can stand between the clans and call it peace."

He spat in the dirt.

"She's the face of everything wrong with this world."

I didn't correct him.

Didn't mention how her face had looked under the moonlight. How her eyes hadn't flinched, even when I held death inches from her throat. How she didn't beg.

Because I didn't understand it either.

He pulled a scroll from his coat and slammed it onto the table between us. The Uchiha crest had been burned out. In its place—a royal seal.

"My records," I said.

"No," he corrected. "Your new records."

I opened the scroll.

Knighted. Displaced. War-torn. Independent of any known rebellion. According to this, I'd been fighting in neutral provinces for the last five years. A well-trained soldier from a fallen clan, seeking political refuge—and loyalty.

They'd believe it.

They had to.

"You're not hiding your name," Boss said. "Too many would sniff out a lie. But your story? That's what they'll swallow. The Hyuuga need swords. And the last of the Uchiha just offered his."

I looked down at the forged signature.

Uchiha Sasuke.

A name that once meant death. Now reduced to a diplomatic pawn.

"When do I leave?" I asked.

He stood, groaning as his muscles screamed in protest. "This isn't about your hesitation. Not anymore. This is about finishing the mission right. Slow. Strategic. Make them bleed for what they did to our brothers."

I looked back down at the crest in my palm.

Royal. Clean. False.

"Understood," I said.

But that night, I couldn't sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her again—not as a target. Not even as royalty.

Just… as a girl standing barefoot in the dark with moonlight in her hair and questions in her eyes.

And I didn't have a single goddamn answer.

They buried Ryou's, 3111, blade that morning. I didn't attend.

What would I have said?

The others—those who survived—had already stopped looking me in the eye. Maybe they knew. Maybe they could smell it on me: the hesitation. The moment I froze with my hand on the hilt while the princess's eyes burned straight through me.

I should've killed her.

Instead, I left the mark and ran.

I told myself it was strategy. I told Boss the same. But I felt the blade of his silence long after I'd packed my gear and left the compound behind.

The boat to Konoha's royal port cut through the water like a blade, silent and fast.

I didn't sleep.

Didn't need to.

The name on my documents read Uchiha Sasuke—and that, at least, was real. The bloodline. The history. The name that still tasted like fire in the mouths of nobles. But everything else? Forged. Twisted. Rewritten.

According to the scrolls now filed away in the royal palace, I was a displaced war knight from the crumbled Uchiha territory, unaffiliated with any rebellion, a neutral sword offered to the Hyuuga Kingdom under desperate wartime diplomacy. A skilled tactician. Royally trained. Decorated in three distant provinces.

A political convenience.

A plausible lie.

And apparently, just what they needed.

They welcomed me into their palace without question—despite my name. Or maybe because of it. Uchiha still held weight in Konoha, even if all the bodies had long turned to ash.

Hiashi met me with a cool nod and a curt exchange.

"Your records check out," he said. "Your bloodline is impressive, and your loyalty will be tested."

Neji stood at his side, arms crossed, eyes sharp. He didn't speak, but I could feel his suspicion from across the room. He wouldn't forget the name. He might not say anything now—but he was watching.

That didn't matter.

I wasn't here to hide.

I was here to kill.

And yet… when I saw her again in the ballroom, all silk and lavender and cautious poise…

I hesitated.

Again.

She didn't recognize me from that night in the garden. She smiled at diplomats. She moved like a porcelain doll taught to dance for strangers. But I saw the crack in her performance. The tiredness behind her eyes. The way she scanned exits before sipping from her glass.

She felt caged.

I almost understood.

Later, when the ceremony ended, she was escorted to the gardens—alone. Tradition.

I followed.

She turned at the sound of my steps, eyes cautious but not frightened.

"Princess Hinata," I said, bowing low. "I've been assigned as your personal knight in arms, as well as your personal escort for the evening."

A pause.

"I-I see...," she said carefully, her voice lowering. She must be aware of the change, but now that she's finally seeing me, it seems reality has finally dawned on her.

"It was issued this afternoon. Heightened precautions after the attack." I tried to sound as passive as possible, almost like I wasn't apart of that attack.

Her lips parted slightly. The wound of that night was still fresh.

I walked beside her in silence, our boots brushing through the trimmed grass. The wind rustled the cherry blossom branches. The guards stayed at the gates.

She was truly alone.

If I wanted to kill her—I still could.

But I didn't.

And I hated that I didn't.

Later, when the garden was empty and the stars had begun their descent, she stopped beneath the old weeping tree, a place meant for prayer. Her voice broke the stillness.

"You saw the mark too, didn't you?"

I said yes.

"You think I'm naive, don't you?" she asked. "That I shouldn't care who dies or who gets burned—just as long as I wear the crown."

Her voice cracked slightly. That was new. Real.

"Everyone sees me," she said, "but no one looks. Not really."

I didn't mean to step closer. I didn't mean to answer.

But I did.

"I saw you."

The air turned sharp between us.

She turned to me, eyes shining. "Then help me. Train me."

My breath caught.

"That's not allowed."

"I don't care."

"You could be punished."

"I don't care," she repeated, louder this time.

And then her fingers brushed my wrist. A sour feeling twists in my stomach from the sensation.

"Please, Sir Sasuke," she whispered. "Train me. I need to learn."

I looked down at her hand. Pale. Calloused from hidden training. Slight tremble, but no fear.

Something cracked in me then.

Not shattered. Just… cracked.

And that's always how it begins.

"…Tomorrow," I said. "At dawn. South training yard. Come alone."

She nodded.

I turned without another word and vanished into the palace shadows.

But long after I left, I swore I could still feel her touch on my skin, like a promise I wasn't meant to keep.

A/N:well...this is awkward LMAO but helloooo everyone! if you couldn't tell, i took the biggest hiatus ever but i finally have the inspiration and motivation to write this bad boy again! if you wanna know updates about me, i'm currently in grad school, going for my masters in criminal justice, so i'm a busy bee but i always find time to write!

i've missed you all and please be sure to comment what you think of the story so far. it would really help me continue writing!

be safe, everyone!