#I think I may have drawn the blade of the naginata wrong ??

[starsinthenigth]

★cassandra jonesssss★

[kusunogatari-a]

[ SasuHinaMonth Day Twenty-Five: Samurai AU ] [ @sasuhinamonth ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hiashi, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Neji ] [ SasuHina, blood mention ] [ Verse: At The Beginning ]

The dust of the road settled after a light morning rain, his trek south is both quiet and calm. A gentle breeze rolls through the trees that line the mountain road, grasses churning like waves. If it weren’t for the task he’s been assigned, it would be a picturesque day.

But the samurai has work to do.

An estate south of the city - large, rich, and responsible for countless rice paddies - has been suffering raids by unknown bandits. According to his father, it should be something simple for the younger of his two sons to handle on his own. A few honorless thugs stand little chance against a carefully-trained samurai.

Geta silent against the soft soil of the road, Sasuke travels with one hand resting atop one of his blade’s hilts, the other tucked into the gaping front of his top. Dark eyes half-lidded, he’s nonetheless alert despite his lax aura. Sharp senses pique, trained for telling noises and visions. If need be, a swift draw will take him only a moment to bury steel into his foe.

But not yet.

Eventually he’s on the downward slope, and a break in the trees reveals the estate. A large manor sits atop the highest foothill, the rest tapered into terraces, fed by a river that winds between the hills. From this distance, the people tending the rice crops are like little hunched-over ants. It will still be a time before he descends to the lord’s lands. One Hyūga Hiashi, once part of the land’s military, retiring to his rice paddies and rather large clan. A widower, with two daughters...and a branch family that handles most of the labor on his estate.

Being part of a large samurai clan himself, Sasuke knows of established hierarchy...but his own doesn’t operate quite like this. But...it’s not his place to intervene. He’s been hired to defend the lord’s lands. Nothing more.

The sun is high when he arrives, taking the path from the road toward the manor. Those in the paddies straighten to look to him curiously, murmuring to one another, the same word on everyone’s tongues:

Samurai.

Ignoring them, he makes his way to the gate, a runner announcing his presence. Adjusting himself only slightly, he prepares to meet with the clan head.

“Ah, you must be the Uchiha.” Hiashi speaks ahead of himself, hands in his sleeves as he approaches with a small gaggle of underlings. His gaze is hawkish, looking down his nose at the young man despite their rivaled levels of power. Soil-shade locks are greyed at his temples, lines carved into an otherwise-infallible face.

Hand still on his sword hilt, Sasuke ignores the slight and gives a shallow bow. “Hyūga Hiashi-sama.”

The man’s nostrils flare slightly as he sniffs. “...as stated in my letter, I have had issues with thugs ransacking my property. We can discuss the details inside.” An arm brandishes to gesture before tucking back to his sleeves, turning and not waiting for Sasuke’s reply.

Following through the entryway courtyard, Sasuke spares subtle glances at the landscapes. Gardens of both flora and stone are well-kept, attendants seemingly in every corner. All bow, only risking glances to their guest once Hiashi passes.

Tucked away in a corner, nearly so hidden he almost misses her...is one of Hiashi’s daughters. Dainty fingers pluck blooms from obliging plants, arranged into a vase held aloft by yet another lesser Hyūga. She glances up as the procession passes, and for a moment their eyes lock.

Her hair is a curtain of ink, highlighting amethyst in the sunlight and falling to a blade’s edge along the tip of her spine. A lavender-shade kimono is tied with a baby blue obi, silk shining in the light and highlighting doves and clouds soaring across the fabric. Pale skin is without mark, eyes like newly-bloomed lilac. Round-cheeked and doe-eyed, she looks much like one of the ladies of the emperor’s court his father has described after travels to the capital.

He’s never seen a woman so beautiful.

Sasuke, however, is thankfully a level-headed man. He’s entranced only a moment before turning to watch Hiashi’s back as they enter the manor. Something tells him ogling the man’s daughter wouldn’t make the best impression.

It would probably get him chased from the manor by a swarm of naginata-wielding Hyūga.

Within the manor, Hiashi takes him to a table, whereupon a map of his lands is unraveled. Once the party gathers around, he gestures to the paper, a few small figures stood across it to signify the damage. “...we have been been hit mostly from the east. Our crops dismantled, and a store of tools raided and burnt. A watchman was grievously injured when he attempted to confront them. We’ve lost several paddies already to the disruption. Should we lose many more, our profits will be in danger. Whoever has targeted us must be stopped.”

Sasuke studies the diagram carefully. “...what sort of defenses do you have?”

“We have patrols armed with kama. But admittedly...most of my men are not experienced in combat. They are mostly for show, and until now, we’ve not had much trouble.” Hiashi scowls. “...unrest further south has made the people unruly. At first I thought perhaps the poor were looking to steal...but nothing is missing, simply destroyed.”

“...do you have a map of the lands around yours?”

“I do. Why?”

“Are there other rice farms nearby?”

“...not for some miles.”

“Perhaps someone has hired a few bandits to ransack you. Drive you out of business to better theirs. The less rice there is to be sold, the higher the price...and less competition.”

The Hyūga’s brows furrow. “...it may be so. If you can, take a man alive. Attempt to wrest answers from him. But to me, what matters most is that the raids stop. Perhaps a show of force will deter anyone else.”

“Understood. The attacks surely come at night?”

“They do. Once every week or so, but mostly at random. We know not when they will strike...only that they will.”

“I’ll need to stake out the property. Wait for them to arrive.”

“You may rest in the branch quarters. I will have a room cleared for you.”

Remembering the apparent caste system of the clan, Sasuke replies, “...that won’t be necessary. I’ll rest on the engawa. I need to be able to watch and listen, anyway.” He doesn’t want to take what little they appear to have.

“...as you wish. Do you require anything else?”

“No...beyond lodging, food, and water...it’s best you carry on as if I weren’t here.”

Hiashi nods. “Very well. I will have our foreman give you a tour of the estate, as to orient yourself. A meal will be delivered this afternoon to the...engawa.”

Sasuke follows Hiashi’s suggestion, mapping out points of interest...and possible places any bandits may strike next. The afflicted fields - still early in the season - are in the process of being replanted.

“It is even more work for the branch family,” the foreman offers when asked, brow drawn. He looks very much like his uncle, Hiashi - the son of his younger twin, upon his introduction. “And should we fare poorly this season, times will be lean...and it is us who will suffer before the main house.”

“Hn...any other information you can offer?”

“The watchman who was attacked said he could see little of them - it was dark, and his torch dropped when he was struck from behind. His estimate put their numbers at six, maybe eight.” Neji gives him an inquiring glance. “...do you require any help?”

“No. Besides...you don’t need any more injured to care for.” Dark eyes glance to pale. “...you sound assured. Have you combat training?”

“I do. My father, alongside his brother, were both in the army. He died saving my uncle’s life. I took up the practice in his honor. At times, I am called upon to guard Hinata-sama and Hanabi-sama. I am most proficient with a bow.”

“Your cousins…?”

“Yes. Hinata, the elder, and Hanabi, the younger by five years.” As they walk, Neji asks, “What about you, Uchiha-san? Have you siblings?”

“One, an elder brother. I am close only to one of my cousins...for I have many. They too are samurai of high reputation.”

“And yet you were sent alone?”

“I am capable. And they have their own tasks. We are often called upon.”

“I see...the samurai are said to have much influence. The emperor, they claim, is more a figurehead to their power.”

“...you wouldn’t be wrong.” Finding himself feeling rather companionable with the man, Sasuke goes on. “It’s not rare for samurai men to marry women of the court...or even relations of the emperor himself. It’s a tangled web...but I care little for it. I simply prefer to peddle my skills and make myself useful. Politics is more my brother’s game.”

“I must wonder what it would be like. The branch Hyūga have no such options. We are serfs to the main house. I am lucky: among them, I am the highest ranked. But it is still nothing to my uncle or cousins.” He gives a wry smile. “...I am simply the most useful.”

“I would offer you pity, but something tells me you’ve little need of it.”

“You would be right.” As they reach the branch barracks, Neji gestures. “...are you sure you won’t lodge inside with us?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt. And won’t take anything further from you.” Despite decorum, Sasuke gives a polite decline of his head. “Thank you for your help. I think I know the lay of the land well enough, now. All that must be done now...is wait. Please, tell your watchmen to be careful - don’t attempt to fight them. Just make enough ruckus to draw my attention. From there...I’ll handle it.”

“It will be done.”

Settled along the south porch of the branch quarters, Sasuke sits with his back along the wall, eagle eyes watching over the downward slope toward the paddies. As the sun sets, another branch Hyūga brings him plain rice and miso, accompanied by matcha. Accepting with a nod, he eats in silence, still keeping watching eyes over the estate as the sky goes dark.

Along the perimeter, torches blink into being, slowly making rounds in the blanket of night. Flickering between each in an effort to see the first sign of trouble, Sasuke snicks his blade slightly as a sound emerges beside him, half-drawn and ready to strike.

Illuminated by a candle, Hinata stills with wide eyes.

“...what are you doing out here?”

Gaze trapped on his katana, it takes her a moment to look up. “...I brought you something. For luck.”

He nearly scoffs. Luck? “You'll get the both of us in trouble if you're spotted.”

From her sleeve she draws a talisman, holding it out for Sasuke to take and clearly ignoring his warning. Once he does, he draws back his hand to reveal an omamori.

“...it was my mother’s. I know my father is paying you, but…” Her head bows. “...I’m grateful for your help to protect our home. Were you to be hurt for our sakes…”

Considering the trinket for a moment, Sasuke tucks it into his sleeve. “...you don’t have to worry about me, Hinata-sama. But you should get back inside, it’s not -”

He hears the shift of gravel, and without a moment’s consideration, Sasuke springs forward. Arms encircle the heiress, rolling with her as an arrow buries with a thwack into the post she’d been knelt behind. With a draw of his blade he blocks another, pushing her behind him. “Go! Now!”

“But -?”

“NOW!”

“Hinata-sama!” Neji’s voice sounds behind them, insisting she retreat with him as Sasuke readies his stance. Where was the patrol? How did they slip through unnoticed?

A band of eight men encircle him, armed with crude but deadly weapons. “Ah, a samurai…? Seems Hiashi finally sacrificed some coin,” one rumbles.

“I’ll warn you once: stand down, or I’ll cut you down.”

“You might be a samurai...but you’re outnumbered!”

Knees bent and blade slightly lifted in its sheath, Sasuke lets a smirk grow across his lips. “...and you are outclassed…!”

Falling for the insult, two men rush forward...and fall in a spray of blood. With a quick draw of his katana, Sasuke makes clean cuts to their chests, dipping the tip through their backs as they fall to finish them.

“...next…?”

Clearly more cautious now, the remaining five spread out, shifting as they consider their means of attack. Dark eyes flicker between them, watching for openings.

But before any make a move, a bolt strikes one man through the eye, whipping his head back with a cry. The rest panic, Sasuke glancing furtively behind him.

Armed with a bow, Neji already draws another arrow. “I will cover you, samurai!”

Not needing to be told twice, Sasuke takes advantage of the chaos, cutting down another bandit and parrying a second. Four down, four remain. Two take to striking at the Uchiha, the other two making to chase the Hyūga, fumbling to block bolts. One crumbles as a shaft buries in his thigh, a second to the chest laying him flat. Too close to shoot the second, Neji shoulders his bow and draws a kama, twirling fighting style too fast and unpredictable to be countered. When the man’s hand is cleaved from his wrist, a strike to the throat is all it takes to finish him.

Sasuke, in the meantime, disarms one man armed with a club before beheading him in a fountain of crimson. The last, falling to his rear, makes to shimmy back. “Please, master samurai! Mercy!”

Sword at his gullet, Sasuke considers Hiashi’s request to take one alive. “...very well. I’ll grant it.”

The man slackens...before Neji delivers a kick to his head, knocking him out cold.

“...but they won’t.”

By then, Hiashi rushes from the manor yard. “Have you done it?”

“Yes, Hyūga-sama. All but one bandit lay dead. Your foreman has the other tied by the branch quarters.”

He nods stiffly. “...then we may find out who sent them. My thanks, Uchiha-san.”

“It’s not just me you owe your thanks. Neji handled half of them on his own. His skill with the bow is impressive...you chose your foreman well.”

Hiashi’s jaw tightens slightly. “...it appears I have.”

Behind him, the lord’s daughters emerge. Hanabi is shielded from the gore, but Hinata peers to the samurai. They exchange a glance, but no one seems to note her rumpled state.

Neji says nothing.

“...well, I will have this...mess taken care of. Perhaps we can speak of coin in the morning, after you rest?”

“As you wish. I will want to take my leave early. I’ve a long trek home, Hyūga-sama.”

“Of course, of course.” Dismissing them, the clan head retreats, his daughters in tow. Hinata manages one last glance, and Sasuke gives her just a hint of a nod and a smile.

“...do I want to know what Hinata-sama was doing out here?” Neji asks once they leave, murmuring as he closes the distance between them.

“She came to give me this.” Sasuke displays the charm. “...apparently it worked.”

“...I will not tell Hiashi-sama she was here. It will only enrage him. Had anyone else seen you two together, alone after dark?” The Hyūga shakes his head. “...imagine the rumors.”

“I didn’t even touch her,” Sasuke mutters. “...until I had to get her out of the way from those arrows. But I think Hiashi would rather her kimono get dusty than her chest impaled with a bolt.”

“My point is that she should not have been out at all,” Neji retorts. “It is...unbecoming of a lady of her stature.”

“Then tell her that, not me. I did nothing to warrant it!”

The pair stare at one another before the elder sighs. “...Hinata-sama is a shy, unobtrusive person. That she approached a stranger like yourself in such a way is...worryingly out of character for her.”

“I looked at her. Once. It was she who approached me. I did nothing to dishonor her.” Wiping his blade clean on a bandit’s shirt, he asks, “Now, are we going to clear away the bodies, or not? They’re going to draw flies come morning.”

“...very well.”

Sasuke sleeps little once the task is done, washing blood from his skin in the river and replacing his stained garments. Hiashi summons him, giving him the arranged coin.

“Should I ever have need of another samurai...I know which clan to call.”

“We appreciate your patronage, Hyūga-sama.”

With the coin in his sleeve, Sasuke takes his leave, escorted by the foreman to the front gate. “...here.”

Pausing, Neji accepts the omamori. “...I do not think she will want it back.”

“It’s hers, not mine.”

“Is this how you react to every gift? Besides...last night should have been omen enough: you need it.” He holds the trinket back out.

“...fine. I’ll hold onto it for now. But she’ll get it back eventually.”

“You make it sound like a threat.”

“...something like that.” Giving Neji a nod and a smirk, Sasuke leaves the gate behind, heading back toward the pass.

Well...now he has an excuse to see her again.

     Word count: 2929      Cumulative: 33,704      WELP, this ended up like...more than twice as long as usual, but I couldn’t help myself xD I read over the wikipedia page about samurai to try and get a better idea about them...no idea if I wrote this very accurately, but I tried. I also don’t have a verse for this, so...this is my closest stand in, lol      I’m still technically behind and need to do today’s, but ngl...this one wiped me out, and I still have a lot I owe on another blog. So we’ll see if I catch up or not, but I wouldn’t hold my breath, lol      Either way, hope y’all enjoyed! See ya in the next one~

[kuriquinn]

Penthesilea [1/?]

Cover & Disclaimer

Chapter Summary: Their decade long feud is only a cornerstone of a larger conflict, a war that has been fought for hundreds of years. Since the days when Uchiha Madara and his Hyūga allies first clashed with Senju Hashirama and the Uzumaki clan.

Author’s Note: I know absolutely nothing about sword fighting techniques, katana, naginata, or anything. If I say anything wrong here, don’t penalise me for it. I’m just trying to lend authenticity.

Chapter Beta: Sakura’s Unicorn

戦国時代

Uchiha Sasuke, heir to the Uchiha clan, stalks the front line, traversing the ground soaked with the blood of ally and enemy alike.

The sun has long since set, but he has yet to find the individual he’s been looking for since this latest skirmish started. Uzumaki Naruto is the one man among the enemy who Sasuke has marked as his rival, ever since they were children forced to fight on opposite sides. Their decade-long feud is only a small part of a larger conflict, a war fought for hundreds of years – since the days when Uchiha Madara and his Hyūga allies first clashed with Hashirama Senju and the Uzumaki clan.

Sasuke expects that the world looks very different now than it did then.

Over time, the daimyō were destroyed, leaving the power to the warring clans. People flee once robust villages and civilians seek protection and shelter from the strong. They toil in the ruined fields, little more than serfs who support the war effort while their masters slice each other to ribbons daily.  

Sasuke’s attitude vacillates between bitter resentment or indifference most days, with no in-between. There’s no room for anything else, as he knows no other life than this. He was born in battle and expects to die here. If the only difference he can make is to take as many of the enemy with him as possible, so be it.

Perhaps that’s why he is so often drawn to Uzumaki in battle. The other man offers a change of pace from the constant drudgery of war, a different type of interaction. The irritating idiot will make jokes while they fight or complement Sasuke’s form when he almost lands a mortal blow. Or tease him when he misses, as if they’re still the same scuff-kneed boys who skipped rocks at the river before the war of their parents caught up with them. It used to fill Sasuke with frustration that the stupid moron couldn’t be serious about anything. As the years go by, though, he returns insults born of lazy amusement more than animosity. He doesn’t know what he’ll do the day he succeeds in killing the other man.

Today, he comes close to learning the answer.

As Sasuke and his rival fight, one of Uzumaki’s allies—an older warrior with a scar across the bridge of his nose—falls nearby. At once, Uzumaki rushes to his side, turning a blind eye to Sasuke as if they’re just enjoying a practice bout between comrades. Sasuke snarls in annoyance, intending to use the opportunity to run him through—only to be thrown backward by such a monstrous force that his teeth rattle and his ribs crack.

When he recovers himself, he sees a figure in red standing as a forbidding guard over Uzumaki while he helps the invalid to safety. The stranger is faceless behind a somen which has been carved into the shape of a snarling lion. Something like horsehair—dyed pink of all colours—peeks out from beneath a kabuto head covering.

Sasuke pauses a moment to assess the newcomer, taking stock of the shorter, lighter frame clad in the traditional armour of the Senju. His enemy’s gear is sleek and efficient, built for speed. He would think he was facing a small and wiry man if not for the naginata grasped expertly in hand.

Not a lion, he realises with a smirk, a lioness.

“We’ve never met,” he tells her, “so allow me to give you a piece of advice: don’t get between combatants such as myself and Uzumaki. You cannot hope to equal either of us.”

Gloved hands grip her spear more firmly.

“I do not kill women,” he continues, “but I will if it means achieving my goal. Get out of my way. Go fight someone on your level.”

But the woman instead falls into in-no-kamae, a blatant invitation for him to attack. Sasuke scoffs because, for all her attitude, that’s a defensive position; if she’s starting off this weak, it’ll all be over quickly.

“Tch. Annoying,” he says, holstering his katana and bending forward into nukitsuke, right hand on the hilt of his sword, the other gripping the sheath; his left thumb flicks the blade up an inch.

There is a pause, a lull like an inhalation of breath.

Then he moves, drawing the katana out of the sheath in one continuous arc, swinging the blade out from left to right in a move meant to decapitate. To his surprise, she darts forward too, jabbing the naginata first downward and then up to slice the side of him that is unprotected by his armour. If his reflexes weren’t excellent, he wouldn’t be able to dodge it in time, but as it is, he disengages to face her once more.

His opponent’s arm flexes, and he expects that she intends to sweep an overhead strike, but as he moves to counter it, she instead jabs at his throat. Sasuke knocks aside the tip of the blade, but only enough that the point punches through his armour and into his left shoulder.

There is a blaze of pain radiating up his left side, and it’s surprising and telling all at once. The strength of the hit explains her speed—she’s not as fast as he is, but strong, and it gives her a momentum that propels her forward. 

When he steps back to get his bearings, rotating his shoulder to make sure he still has movement, she closes in once more. With a forward lunge, she braces the naginata with her right wrist and elbow, while thrusting one-handed at his middle with her left. He kicks the weapon aside, but can’t get the space to cut her; instead, he strikes hard with the butt of his katana, cracking the somen in the forehead, sending her reeling back.

She staggers far enough that he can get into the required attack range, and then he charges. Sasuke brings his blade down overhead in a two-handed chop that should land between her neck and shoulder. But she recovers, swinging the polearm back around to block him. Their blades lock and they strain against each other. His arm trembles with the force this woman can put into her blow, and he finds himself surprised that she hasn’t snapped her own weapon yet.

Perhaps, it was crafted with her monstrous strength in mind. Speaking of mind…

Sasuke leans into the hold, his Sharingan blazing to the surface as he tries to catch her in a genjutsu, but the eyes behind her mask are shut tightly. Like most of the enemy, she knows better than to meet an Uchiha’s gaze in battle, and he can at least respect that foresight.

Even if it will be her undoing.

By avoiding his eyes, she leaves herself blind to other things, and he hooks one leg around hers and jerks, sweeping her feet out from underneath. She isn’t braced properly and goes down on her back, hitting so hard he hears a jarring grunt of breath punch from her lungs. Her fall jolts the naginata clear of his katana, sending it flying to the side.

Sasuke doesn’t wait for an invitation, swinging down with all his strength.

To his shock, her hands clap together, stopping the blade before it can touch her. Then she wrenches it to the right, snapping it off several inches above the hilt. Sasuke snarls, overbalancing, and is forced to catch himself. As she tosses the ruined sword away and jumps from her back to her feet, he kicks the naginata farther out of reach.

They circle each other, now both unarmed.

“Do you still think I am not at your level?” she asks him, and there is a smug confidence there that would irritate him under normal circumstances.

Instead, he snorts. “You are a momentary amusement at best.” But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the unexpected challenge.

Without weapons, they’ll have to rely on traditional shinobi skills, and he knows such an altercation should end fast. Like his brother, Sasuke is a prodigy, and he has never lost to anyone but Itachi (he doesn’t count the ongoing stalemate with Uzumaki).

Sasuke’s fingers fly, forming hand seals, and he summons chakra to his chest.

“Katon—Gōkakyū no Jutsu!”

He expels a massive, roaring orb of flame, intending to char the enemy down to her bones. To his surprise, a wall of water springs up around her, strong enough to extinguish the blaze.

She’s a water-type, he realises, shielding his eyes from the spray. Which means all his clan techniques are useless to him right now.

“Doton—Dosekiryū!”

The water becomes a wave of dirt and mud, barrelling toward him, intending to bury him alive.

Earth-style as well—hm. It’s a fair attempt… But not good enough.

Unfortunately for her, he may be an Uchiha, but he isn’t a natural fire-type—and lightning is strong against earth.

Electricity crackles to life in his palms and he shoves it downward and into the ground, channelling his energy into reversing the approaching wave. Clods of soil solidify and crumble, nullifying the efficacy of her attack. In the pause where she processes this, Sasuke transforms his chakra into thin, needle-like projectiles of lightning and hurls them toward her. With his Sharingan, it should be easy to hit her vital points, but then—

Shit! Kawarimi!

She must’ve taken advantage of his focus on her mud wall to create a substitute.

He whirls around, just in time to see the real enemy coming from above, fist raised. He moves back, expecting to kick out at her as she lands, but when her knuckles hit the ground, there’s no chance to find his footing. The surrounding area crumbles beneath their feet, forcing him to scramble for level ground.

He didn’t overestimate her monstrous strength before. She really is that strong.

Warier now, Sasuke moves farther away from her, considering the fists she still has clenched.

If she gets one good hit in, I’m dead. Even I can’t guard against a broken neck. 

He revaluates what he knows about this woman now.

She is skilled in ninjutsu and makes up for the disparity between their chakra natures using advanced analysis to anticipate his moves. He suspects her taijutsu is deadly, even without a finishing move. In that case, it seems this match may require genjutsu. Although, given her awareness of his lineage, it’ll be harder than expected—she’s shielded her eyes from him the entire match. Unless he can somehow trick her…

An idea comes to him, one Sasuke’s seen his brother use before. He’s never tried it—never needed to—but he has no choice; he has to try it now.

Sasuke channels his chakra into one finger, making a show of trying to capture the woman’s gaze with his own, the tomoe in his Sharingan spinning. While she avoids his line of sight, her eyes reflexively focus on the finger he points at her, no doubt expecting a shuriken or kunai to come from that direction.

Then she goes still, frozen. His ploy has worked.

With a triumphant eagerness, he calls up another palm of lightening and charges at her, preparing to shove his entire hand through her body—but then he hears “Kai!”

Seconds before he collides with her, she ducks—which should not be possible—and grabs him by his cuirass. She lifts him over her head, slamming him onto the ground.  

Stars spin above his head, but Sasuke’s reflexes stay sharp where his wits don’t; he punches his knuckles together, her forearm trapped between them where her hand guard and sleeve armour don’t cover. The crunch of broken bone forces her to release him, and without wasting another second, he rolls away.

Not just a water-type. A natural genjutsu-type as well. Even without a Sharingan, she’s strong.

He’s impressed, despite himself, that someone other than Uzumaki—and a woman, at that—can hold her own against him. He might think she were Senju Tsunade herself if he hadn’t met the old woman in person during many a failed peace-talk.

“All right,” he allows, “You possess some skill.”

She snorts at this, but it sounds like amusement instead of offence. They lunge at each other once more.

Again and again, they meet, fighting with fists, feints, and illusions. Maddeningly, she continues to counter him with ease, parrying his blows and nullifying his techniques, throwing off his illusions a half-second before he can strike. Sasuke suspects anything less than a fully-evolved Sharingan is a simple thing for her to shrug off.

And when Sasuke gets too close, she lashes out, bringing him worryingly close to death with the graze of her knuckles.

In the end, he realises that this woman is not even close to tiring. In fact, she seems to want to get him to use up all of his chakra first. She must have tremendous reserves, and he wonders if she might not be another Uzumaki.

Whether that’s the case or not, this fight must end, and it will come down to a choice. Sasuke needs to get close enough to her to strike a fatal blow—not with fists, perhaps, but his chokutō remains hidden. He hasn’t reached for the smaller blade yet, and so she won’t be expecting it, but he must be fast because there will only be one chance. If he doesn’t succeed, he’ll be left open, and she’ll kill him with a single blow.

His guts tremble in anticipation.

There’s no point in putting it off. However this goes, the fight will end.

One last time, he lunges forward, feinting left—which she expects, and begins a downward chop with the heel of her hand. As she moves to meet him, he uses Shunshin to materialise behind her.

Without ceremony, he shoves his blade through the gap beneath her arm where her armour doesn’t reach, burying it to the hilt. She jerks in surprise, and there is a choked cry as she falls back against him. Her head whips to one side to face him, and this time he meets her eyes unimpeded through the mask.

In that moment as he meets his opponent’s gaze, the world seems to stop.

Clear, green irises shine with surprise and pain. They are open wide, meeting his gleaming red ones without hesitation. Now it is he who can’t breathe, as if he were the one who was just run through, not her.

In his colourless world of war and bloodshed, for that second, her eyes are the most striking sight he’s ever seen.

Then they dull and slide away from his face.

As if moving in a dream, Sasuke pulls the blade out. It tumbles from his fingers as her body slumps forward. His arms wrap around her, almost in reflex, as gravity draws her downward. They are both on their knees now, her fingers clutching ineffectually at the fabric beneath his armour. A gasping, rattling, wet noise echoes behind the painted snarl of the mask, the familiar sound of someone bleeding into their lungs and stomach.

Before he knows of it, Sasuke has pulled the mask from her face, gazing down upon his opponent for the first and last time.

Pale, soft features greet him, blood spilling from full lips. It isn’t dyed horsehair beneath the helmet, he realises, but her own distinctive locks. The colour of cherry blossoms, like the trees which no longer grow on this field of combat.

Even in death, she doesn’t cry or make a noise, only squints straight up at him. Her beguiling irises move back and forth, like she’s trying to read, or perhaps, memorise his features. It’s as if learning the face of the man who killed her is the last important task she has set for herself.

All too soon, her eyes roll back and she goes still.

For the first time in his life, Uchiha Sasuke feels the unexpected pang of regret. He senses he’s lost something, but isn’t sure what or even why or how. It makes no sense, and yet he is familiar enough with pain and loss to recognise it.

Is it a lingering genjutsu, perhaps? But that sounds absurd even as he thinks it.

In his mind, something strange happens.

Sasuke imagines this woman before him the way she could have been if they lived in a different time or a different place. From childhood to adulthood, smiling and laughing and yelling—dynamic and vivacious. Feelings and emotions he’s never experienced hit him then, the chains of a life never lived, from a something he can’t even comprehend.

Hyūga Neji finds him like that several minutes—or hours—later. “Uchiha?”

Sasuke doesn’t answer right away, still staring down at the woman’s face. She has freckles, he notices; delicate and transparent, but clearly there.

“Uchiha, do you hear me? Are you wounded?”

The Hyūga prodigy is the closest thing Sasuke has to a friend, even if they only tolerate one another. Although his question is asked in a controlled manner, there’s a minor note of concern there.

“I killed her,” Sasuke replies which should explain everything, but Hyūga looks as if that hasn’t answered the question at all.

Rather than push him on it, though, he simply says, “You’re wanted back at camp.”

“The battle is not done.”

“All who remain are stragglers. Uzumaki and his people have quit the field already. I hear his adopted father was wounded. If he dies, I imagine there will be retribution.”

Sasuke allows the words to wash over him, still gazing down at the woman in his arms. She looks young—maybe younger than him, maybe the same age. Far too young to be dead here on a field of blood and bone.

“Are you coming?” Hyūga says, sounding impatient. Sasuke knows from experience, if he doesn’t leave with him, the other man will physically carry him from the field.

Sasuke stands, still cradling the woman’s body.

“Why are you bringing her?”

“She fought me and endured. For longer than most men would,” Sasuke says, adjusting his hold on her so that her head rests against his shoulder. “That alone deserves a proper burial. This woman should not have her body ransacked by thieves and vultures like a common soldier.”

He strides past.

Hyūga takes a moment to digest this, and snorts. “I never believed you were the sentimental type.”

“I am not,” Sasuke maintains.

And yet, as they head back to the Uchiha camp, he wonders what it says about him that he thinks he feels a soft sigh against his neck. His stomach jumps in something disturbingly like hope.

つづく

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