#I wanted to dream about Kakashi or Obito and my brain made me dream Itachi

[thesacredfanfics]

Me: If I dream about fictional characters, can I at least dream of fictional characters that I like, brain? Pretty please... 🙂‍↕️

My brain: oh you'd like that? well, I don't care... here have some dreams with characters that you don't even ever think about

[kuriquinn]

Penthesilea [19/20]

Cover & Disclaimer:

Chapter Summary: No one will notice if he disappears after all of this is writ into law. He is, after all, notorious, and even his own people likely want to forget that he exists. Naruto aside, there’s no one among the Senju forces left to see him as anything but a monster.

Chapter Beta: None beyond my own two eyes and at the moment. Since I’m finishing the fic this week, I’d say all edits will be forthcoming within the next few weeks as my beta has time to look through everything.

AN: Welp. We’re nearing the end. One more chapter and possibly an epilogue to go.

Sasuke wakes to the smell of antiseptic in the air and the sound of hushed voices. Somewhere to his left, Naruto’s chakra is calm and familiar, yet a sense of surprise and dismay washes over him.

“You idiot,” he rasps. His voice is raw and gravelly, and it hurts to talk. “You were supposed to kill me.”

“Well, I gave it my level best,” the other man says dryly, “but a certain healer we both know had a more convincing argument. I happen to like my head where it is.”

Sasuke opens his eyes—and he can see again and inclines his head to the left. It hurts more than he likes but he fixes the blond man with a glare. Naruto sits beside him, face covered in bandages but smirking at him nonetheless. It irritates him.

“I was meant to die,” Sasuke slowly, as if talking to a particularly stupid child. “If I live, it makes it possible for the war to continue. You’ve allowed sentiment to jeopardise that. I thought you understood.”

“Oh, I understood,” Naruto mutters. “I thought it was stupid, but I understood. Everything with you Uchiha is death and sacrifice and drama…” He waves dismissively. “You got what you wanted—the world saw me kick your ass. And then they saw Sakura show up and save it.”

Sasuke can’t find his voice at this, and can only stare at Naruto in surprise.

“Mm-hmm,” the other man nods. “The people were calling for your death, and she stepped in and said that peace should not be begin with the spilling more blood. That you’ll be tried for your crimes, and an appropriate—and useful—punishment will be found for you.”

Sasuke frowns in thought.

Exile or hard labour, most likely.

He stares up at the ceiling of the large tent overhead; in the distance, he can still hear the sound of rushing water. He thinks they must have set the tent up around him, which means his condition was serious if he couldn’t even be moved. And yet…

It doesn’t escape his notice that a certain individual is conspicuously absent. He wonders if he might have dreamed her presence before he passed out for the last time.

He has to stop himself from asking about her. Instead, he wonders, “Why can I see?”

“While she was healing you, Sakura found out you had the same thing as Itachi,” Naruto tells him. “But she knew what to do this time. And she had Tsunade-baachan and Rin helping. I’m still healing so I wasn’t much help.” He indicates the bandages on his face. “It’s a good thing she did heal you, because she found something in the process. Something about the nerves attached to your Sharingan putting pressure on part of your brain. The part that’s responsible for decision-making and rational thought. So basically, you were batshit crazy, but it wasn’t your fault.” He snorts. “Maybe that’s why you came up with such an extreme plan…oi! Sasuke! Are you listening to me at all?”

“Where is she?” Sasuke returns, finally losing the fight against asking.

Naruto’s open expression turns troubled for an instant, and then he beams. “Well, you can’t really expect her to hang around for something stupid like you, right? I mean, eyes aside, you heal pretty fast. And there’s a lot of legal stuff that needs doing that she’s responsible for now. You know she was made Tsunade-baachan’s heir a few weeks after the conclave disaster.”

“Hn.”

He was aware, but the answer doesn’t satisfy him. There is something false in Naruto’s voice that makes Sasuke’s stomach clench in dismay. He can easily interpret the truth.

Clemency aside, Sakura does not want to be around him more than necessary.

There is movement beyond the tent and then a familiar head pokes in through the flap.

“Well, you two have done it now,” Kakashi says dryly. “You know they’ll be talking about your little spat for generations.” The rest of him enters the tent. “I’m pretty sure they’re writing songs about it as we speak.”

“Hah. Just make sure they mention Sasuke’s bad hair,” Naruto quips.

Sasuke ignores him, gazing upon his former teacher. He isn’t sure how to apologise or bring up what as passed between them, and can only manage a flat, “You’ve survived.”

He doesn’t bother hiding the relief in his tone.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Kakashi responds, surveying him with a critical eye.

Sasuke’s heart clenches again as he recognises the gesture as one Itachi used to perform when he thought he couldn’t see. He has forgotten over the course of the past year just how close Kakashi was to Itachi—and how grateful he once was to have the man as a mentor. He expects to face anger and repudiation for his harsh banishment of the man, but instead Kakashi’s eyes soften a little

“It seems you’re a lot more like your brother than any of us ever imagined,” he tells him quietly. “Just do us a favour and don’t try to pull something like that again?”

“I doubt there will be a need,” Sasuke says, lying back on his pallet.

“Well, about that…There’s some, er, unrest out there,” Kakashi says. “Official peace can’t be declared without the presence of the Senju and the Uchiha leaders. Which would be you, since you didn’t die and, apparently, Obito goes by Nohara now?”

He raises an eyebrow at Sasuke, who manages to remain carefully blank-faced this time. Perhaps taking note of this expression, Naruto tries to draw the older man’s attention. “Who’s officiating?”

“An emissary from the Land of Iron,” Kakashi says, naming a country that has been neutral since the first days of the war generations earlier. “Some samurai named Mifune.”

“Guess that means we have to get pretty-boy here ready,” Naruto snorts.

“He’s not the only one,” Kakashi points out. “The Uzumaki and the Hyūga are expected to be present as well.”

“Aw, shit…”

Naruto’s impending whining is interrupted as the tent flap rustles again, and Sai arrives bearing an armful of robes.

“This was the best we could find you both on short notice,” he says blandly. “Some overbearing Yamanaka woman insisted you not show up covered in each other’s blood.”

He sounds as if he doesn’t know why that would be an issue.

“Sounds like Ino,” Naruto snorts as he reaches for one of Sai’s offerings. “I didn’t know she was back.”

“She and an envoy from the Land of Wind arrived the day before yesterday, as soon as they heard the news,” Sai says. “In fact, many of the people from departed clans and from the surrounding villages have gathered.”

“It’s Sasuke’s fault…he’s been out of it for days. If you’d woken up sooner, we wouldn’t have to make such a big deal of this,” Naruto complains, while Sasuke silently accepts his own bundle of robes. He blinks in surprise when he notices that someone has taken the time to sew the Uchiha kamon onto the back and sleeves of the formalwear.

“Today is an historic event, and everyone wants to see it,” Kakashi points out. “You shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“Yeah, yeah…though someone’s going to have to help me put this stuff on. The last time I wore montuki I was six…”

Sasuke chooses to struggle into his own, trying to ignore stiff limbs and aching bones. He suspects that he will have to get used to dressing by himself for the rest of his days, and so there is no reason to get used to someone else helping.

Sakura’s lack of presence seems even more pronounced just then, but it’s not as if he can blame her. Their last meeting before his battle with Naruto was poisonous. If she can’t forgive him, what hope does he have of the hundreds – maybe thousands – of people who suffered the ravages of this war because of him and his clan?

For the first time in his life, his feet itch to run fast and far away.

戦国時代

The valley down below the ruined waterfall teems with people. Even standing so far above them all, Sasuke finds himself overwhelmed by emotion. People cheer and cry and hold onto each other – friends and family and former enemies, wearing every colour and crest that he’s seen on the battlefield. He hears celebrations and speeches about dreams for the future and all good things to come.

Another tent has been set up on an outcropping above the valley, at the best vantage point for the people below. It is draped in the colours of the main clans and their vassals, and surrounded by representatives from each. When he and Naruto draw near, the excited murmuring goes quiet. Their eyes fly to the leader of the Uzumaki and there is awe; when their attention falls to Sasuke, it is distrust and wariness. Even the gazes of his own former vassals are cold.

He can’t blame them. If not for his grief-fuelled madness and his relentless pursuit of peace on his own terms, they might have had peace for almost a year. The rest of his clan, with the exception of Obito, might still be alive.

Sasuke clenches his fist, trying to fight down the sudden overwhelming desperation to leave. As he sees it, he has done his duty – he has ceded victory to Naruto and everyone knows it. There will be peace between the remnants of the Uchiha allies and those of the Senju, as well as their vassals. It’s a bright future – the one Itachi wanted – but not one Sasuke intends to be a part of.

No one will notice if he disappears after all of this is writ into law. He is, after all, notorious, and even his own people likely want to forget that he exists. Naruto aside, there’s no one among the Senju forces left to see him as anything but a monster.

Not any more at least.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Naruto says quietly, interrupting his thoughts. “And that’s not part of the agreement. Even if you’ve still got to go on trial, you’re supposed to get a second chance at a future, too.”

“There’s nothing left to build a future with.”

“I bet you’re wrong about that,” Naruto smirks. “And I can prove it.”

Sasuke frowns. “Whatever you think you know is wrong.”

“Oh yeah? So, there’s no one alive who you wouldn’t consider staying for?”

Sakura’s face flashes to the forefront of his mind, first the softly-smiling image he always carries close to his heart, and then the one of utter devastation that haunts his nightmares.

Chains from a failed past, he thinks grimly.

“Listen, just do me a favour,” Naruto continues. “Stick around at bit after all of this. Once we sign the treaty, there’s something you need to see. And if after that still decide it’s not enough to stay here, I’ll let you go without a fight.”

Sasuke narrows his eyes, wary, but he nods incrementally. Naruto lets out a triumphant hah, claps him on the back, and jogs ahead.

“No sense of decorum, that one,” Kakashi says appearing beside Sasuke in his usual unexpected fashion. “But he’s got a point.”

Sasuke side-eyes him, taking note of the way the man’s eyes glint in amusement. Not just at Naruto’s antics, it would seem.

“You know what he wants me to see,” he realises.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“No.”

“You’re maddeningly unhelpful.”

“You deserve to stew for a bit.”

He can’t argue with that.

They cross the rest of the distance to the festive tent, where more and more of the clan representatives gather. Far down below, the crowds of people continue to swell, spreading across the fields of battle that have been littered with the dead and dying since the days of Madara and Hashirama.

“The Valley of the End,” Kakashi reminds him.

“An apt name.”

“It’s like I said. People are already turning you into legends. Are you sure you two didn’t plan this?”

Sasuke sighs and stares up at the sky, counting down the hours until sunset. “This part wasn’t planned.”

The crowd of clan representatives and witnesses part as they come through, and he can see that inside there are several sombre looking individuals. Hyūga Hiashi stands there, with his daughters on either side, and there is a young man – barely old enough to shave – loitering nearby in the colours of the Sarutobi clan. He glares about as if challenging anyone to remark on his presence there. Suigetsu is there as well, dressed in the Hozuki colours, his dead brother’s sword sheathed behind him, while the redheaded Uzumaki woman—Karin, Sasuke supposed—scowls at him across the way.

Sasuke takes up his place beside the Hyūga clan, most of whom glare at him with undisguised dislike, while Naruto stands opposite him. A serious-looking man waves for everyone to quiet down. The vassals and allies of the various clans take their places behind their respective leaders, but Sasuke notices that someone is missing.

“Where is Tsunade?” he asks. The peace cannot happen without agents from both sides.

Naruto looks sheepish. “Yeah, uh…about that…”

And that’s when Sasuke tenses.

He can sense her before she even enters the tent, with that same otherworldly awareness he has always had of her.

“Senju Tsunade has exhausted herself healing this man and is resting,” a familiar, albeit cool, voice says from behind him. “There’s no telling if she will ever wake again. But the fact that her last act was to heal her traditional enemy should tell you where she stands. As it is, before she fell into her sleep, my honourable adopted mother bestowed upon me legal agency. I am to negotiate on her behalf and on behalf of all her vassals.”

Slowly, Sasuke turns to acknowledge the speaker of these words, and when he finally sees her he feels as if he can’t breathe. He has never been one to care overly much about a woman’s looks, even after involving himself with the one facing him. And yet he can’t help be in awe by the sight of her now.

He has never seen Sakura clothed in anything other than her armour or disguised as a common villager. This figure before him is neither the warrior or the healer, but a regal politician. Her pristine white robes bear emblems of the Senju, although the obi she wears has a circle stitched into it – her own clan emblem. Her hair has been pulled back into two twists on the side of her head – not for fashion, he suspects, but to draw attention to the seal on her forehead. Finally, a gold kanzashi sits upon her crown; it’s old, he can tell, and suspects it may have belonged to a distinguished Senju ancestor.

No doubt a reminder to any who might question her status.

“I take it there have been witnesses to this granting of agency?” the samurai from the Land of Iron asks, moustache bristling in annoyance at the change to protocol.

“That’d be me,” Naruto interjects. “And before any old fogies want to bitch about needing Senju blood present for this, Tsunade-baachan and I are cousins, so kinship-wise I’ve got both the Senju and the Uzumaki covered.”

He grins, utterly irreverent and unrepentant in the face of such a serious occasion. Hinata smiles shyly at him, stars in her eyes, but Sakura’s face remains carved of marble as she stares down Mifune.

“I suppose that’s permissible,” he mutters, clearly uncomfortable.

“Then if you’re not opposed, let’s begin,” Sakura says. “The Senju wish is to sue for peace. Are the representatives of the other honoured clans in agreement with this?”

“The Uzumaki stand with the Senju,” Naruto says.

“As do the Hyūga,” Hiashi declares.

Everyone pauses, staring at Sasuke, but he ignores them. He has no intention of speaking until she looks at him, but she barely inclines her head in his direction. Despite her confident bearing and the set of her jaw, he senses apprehension. It’s clear in the way her fists move beneath her voluminous sleeves – as if they are clenching and unclenching.

“Uchiha-sama,” Mifune interrupts, voice tense. “It may simply be formality at this point, but what is the position of the Uchiha clan?”

Sasuke continues to stare at Sakura, silently requiring some sign of her acknowledgement before anything else happens. She must sense this, because slowly her gaze is drawn to his. At first, she focusses her eyes somewhere to the right of his jaw, but gradually, as if drawn by a magnet, they meet his own.

Everything beyond the two of them fades out, and Sasuke’s lungs feel too tight. The bewitching irises that were burned into his soul the first day he met her arrest him, searching him with something that is wary and tentative and hopeful all at the same time.

For a moment, they appear to find what they seek, but in that same instant she looks away, an angry flush of colour in her cheeks.

“Sasuke?” Naruto prompts.

“The Uchiha clan wishes for harmony,” Sasuke says, turning away from Sakura. “It is desired that there be peace in this land, now and into the future.”

It is as if the entire room breathes a collective sigh of relief.

“I will enter into this agreement under the condition of equal respect and trust with the Senju,” he continues. “Much of the onus falls upon those of my blood…and I will accept the consequences of my actions thereof. But the sins of the past cannot be erased either. There must be full penance from both sides before we move forward. To this end, I wish to convey the contrition of myself and my clan concerning the lives lost and pain caused. The slights we have all endured – both real or imagined – have no place in the future.”

Sakura looks back at him now, eyes calculating.

“Before any amends can be made, I would ask the forgiveness of the honourable representative of the Senju,” he concludes, “for any injuries incurred by the actions of my ancestors or myself.”

Naruto’s jaw actually drops, having not expected this. Sasuke is half in agreement, having not intended to say much today. He tries to blame the fact he is still recovering from his injuries, but when Sakura’s eyes suddenly begin to shine with something like hope, he stops trying.

“The Senju accept the apology of the honourable representative of the Uchiha,” she says quietly. “Though no words can expunge the past, we will do all in our power to build the future you speak of – and let old hatreds be buried with our dead.”

They gaze at each other a beat longer, and he feels an element of the same, unnameable force that has connected them all this time.

“Then we will now discuss the terms of this concord into law,” Mifune interrupts with a clearing of his throat. “It is hoped that from this day forward there will no longer be discord between you, but harmony and –”

A high-pitched, screeching wail interrupts Mifune’s words.

Sakura freezes, and her gaze leaves Sasuke’s faster than he can ever remember it doing. As the people gathered search for the noise – a crying child, it appears – and mumble at the inappropriate interruption, Sakura’s face flickers with a desperation he doesn’t understand.

Naruto is also suddenly uneasy.

“Sakura,” he says cautiously, although his eyes flit to Sasuke.

She doesn’t reply, instead bolting from the gathering of peacemakers.

“Senju-sama!” Mifune calls out in protest, but she ignores him, stumbling to the edges of the tent as quickly as her elaborate robes will allow. Sasuke moves to go after her, but Naruto’s hand stops him.

“It’s not what you think,” the blond man says, and is that amusement in his tone?

Sasuke’s head whips back to observe Sakura, who is reaching desperately into the crowd and – apparently – arguing with someone. He has to strain his ears to hear her.

“ – not the time, my lady –”

“ – don’t care if it’s a serious affair,” she snaps, “hand her over, she needs me!”

“ – Sakura-sama, it’s not decorous to –”

“I don’t care about decorum!”

“You can’t just –”

“I’d give her what she wants,” a blond woman standing beside Sai remarks dryly.

“Shizune, if you don’t hand me my daughter in the next thirty seconds, I guarantee you that peace will be the last thing on my mind!” Sakura growls.

Instantly a swaddled, wriggling and crying bundle is laid in her arms, and she holds it tight, making shushing noises and rocking it back and forth. The entire world has fallen away and she appears to be aware of none of it.

Sasuke can relate.

At that exact moment, everything else seems superfluous in the face of the truth he watches unfold before him.

Sakura has a child.

Sasuke’s heart clenches in his chest, and he has trouble breathing, but this time it isn’t due to awe for the woman before him. The last hopes he had of rekindling what they had dies away.

Because it has been a year, and what did he expect? That she would wait for him to come to his senses after he singlehandedly ripped apart every possible path leading to a future they could share with one another? She had people to heal and lead, and at the end of the day, she deserves to be with a man who can make her happy. He has utterly failed in this, and so he can’t even protest the gutting sensation ravaging him now.

She…deserves to be happy, he tells himself.

Long minutes of awkward whispering follow, with Sakura unable to quiet the fussing child. People are exchanging judgemental glances, and Mifune shifts in annoyance. Eventually, Sakura sets her shoulders, and stalks back to re-join the delegation, still cradling the baby. As she ducks into the tent, she bestows an expression of challenge anyone to criticise the sudden addition of crying child to the proceedings.

Sasuke suspects that it is only a general, healthy respect for what her fists can do which keeps anyone from protesting.

When Sakura’s eyes fall on his, something like dismay and apology enters them, confirming his worst fears. Then her demeanour becomes serious again and she strides forward, eyes on him and still bouncing the crying baby.

Her gaze never wavers, and it feels as if she’s using him as an anchor; he wishes she wouldn’t. The closer she gets, the more he must steel himself, refusing to look down at the child. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it or the idea of Sakura’s features blended with some other man. Instead, he does his best to meet her searching gaze without flinching.

Then she smiles a little, bouncing the infant.

“This isn’t exactly the way I imagined today would go,” she admits to him, as if they aren’t standing in the middle of stalled peace talks or being watched by the representatives of clans from both sides. As if these aren’t the first personal words she’s spoken to him in almost a year.

Or that the heart he spent his life pretending didn’t exist isn’t being shaved into a million tiny slivers as the seconds go by.

“The baby is a surprise,” he replies weakly.

She shoots him an urchin’s grin. “I imagine so.”

“Probably not as much a surprise at the other thing,” Naruto pipes up.

Sakura shoots a side glare at him. “Shut up, Naruto, this isn’t the place!”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s much choice of that right now,” he grins down at the baby. “She’s got a flare for the dramatic.”

“I suspect she comes by it honestly,” Kakashi remarks from several paces away. His visible features show no surprise, and Sasuke feels a sudden burning anger rising within.

Kakashi knew.

He and Naruto both knew about this, and they said nothing to him. And they had the gall to think he would be happy about it? And Sakura –

Sasuke knows that he has a long way to go in earning her forgiveness – perhaps he even deserves some pain for what he did to her – but this? He has never believed she would be the type to rub his face in his mistakes or remind him of that which he will never obtain.

One year can certainly change a lot, he thinks darkly.

“I suppose you’re right,” Sakura sighs now, apparently unaware of his inner turmoil. “It’s not like everyone won’t figure it out eventually.” 

“In case none of you are aware, we’re in the middle of something important,” Mifune bites out.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Naruto snorts, while Sakura bites her lip and the baby fusses louder.

“Shh, Sarada…sweetheart, don’t fuss now,” Sakura murmurs softly. “I think it’s making your father nervous.”

Sasuke instinctively looks to Naruto, expecting him speak up or joke or confirm his relationship to the child, but the blond man simply continues to laugh and shake his head as if the whole situation is highly entertaining. There is no other man around them that looks concerned for the child in the way a parent might – curious, perhaps, and possibly irritated judging from the expressions of the older delegates – but the father of Sakura’s child does not appear to be in the vicinity.

It makes sense, and his frustration must show on his face, because Sakura suddenly laughs.

“Is something about this funny?” he asks her.

“Sasuke-kun…” she sighs, shaking her head like he’s missing something. Maybe he is, because the familiar way she says his name takes his breath away. He barely notices her moving closer, putting herself and the infant into his personal space. “Would you like to hold your daughter?”

There’s an instantaneous collective intake of breath all around them, as the implication of Sakura’s words sets in. Then, everyone is talking at once – exclamations of disbelief and demands for clarification and Sasuke doesn’t hear any of it beyond the first explosion of his noise, because his own brain has stalled.

“Sasuke-kun, would you like the hold your daughter.”

Daughter.

His daughter.

“It’s not…it’s not possible…” he murmurs faintly, staring at Sakura in a silent, desperate request for explanation.

Sakura purses her lips and raises an eyebrow at him in challenge. And he knows exactly what she would say if they weren’t in such esteemed company.

Because the reality is, they were never careful. He always assumed that she was taking some form of preventative measures – after all, the battlefield is a dangerous place, especially for women. Unwanted advances are common, whether from the enemy or even amorous comrades. While it’s highly unlikely anyone could ever force themselves upon someone as strong as Sakura, it would be irresponsible of a female medic to compromise her usefulness by falling pregnant.

And yet…

Even if she was, there’s always a small chance…

In the background, Mifune tries to demand order, while the various clans and their vassals dissolve into confusion. The Hyūga seem apoplectic with shock and indignation (not Hinata, however).

“Uchiha Sasuke,” Naruto snorts. “The dumbest genius in the land—ow!”

He ducks an elbow from his redheaded cousin, who also seems unsurprised by the proceedings.  

Sakura lifts the fussing infant closer, and this time, Sasuke can’t stop himself from gazing down on her. The minute his eyes meet the baby’s, any infinitesimal shred of doubt vanishes as if it never was.

Because they are completely black.

It’s a distinctly Uchiha trait, possibly related to their dōjutsu, but Uchiha babies never have light eyes – even at birth. In addition to the inky black hair, Sasuke can already see smaller versions of his own features – nose, chin and cheekbones – and the way her face scrunches in displeasure at being held away from her mother. She appears to notice him looking down at her because she stills, and then he finds himself the subject of a direct, appraising look.

His heart stutters at the sight, because that look has been levelled at him before – first by his father, and then by his brother – only this time it’s with eyes identical to his own.

Sasuke doesn’t notice much more than that, however, because it is at this point that he promptly passes out.

つづく

Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated! Also, if you are in a supportive mood, I have a ko-fi button at the top of the page, or you can find my tip jar here.

Thanks for your interest in my work!

クリ

Next Chapter

[s-asuke]

SasuSaku Month 2017 - Day 3 - Chemistry

SasuSaku Month 2017 – Day 3 – Chemistry AU in which the Hyuuga were somehow infected / harmed by Kaguya and their Byakugan is weakened. Yuuno Hyuga is an OC. I think Bout this becoming a multi-chap story. If you would like it to become one, send me a request, PM or just simply reply to this post!! Feedback is love!! Warnings: mild nsfw (Sasu's thirsty ass is my thirsty ass ok) "Sometimes you just gotta relax, yeah? And we have so many missions lately, so just being at the onsen with you, Sai and Sakura-chan would be ideal, watcha think?" His favorite moron was waing four golden-lined cards at him, his Sharingan nearly wanting to shoot a few black flames at the annoying cards. Ah, destiny was so cruel. Naruto Uzumaki just told him that the Rokudaime has ordered Sasuke, and the rest of the Team 7, to go to hot springs and relax. Fucking impossible, Sasuke ponders, all the while staring at the jelly he was supposed to eat. "C'mooon, teme, it would be pretty good for us! We haven't had a vacation since the war!" Sasuke doesn't say anything to the comment that jabs his heart. "Naruto, don't be an idiot. We have a lot of work. And just because I healed Neji, and the main family does not mean we can lay back and relax!" Naruto's cheerful expression visibly falls, but gets back up quick, not minding Sasuke's stern demeanor. His strict, grayish eyes, color watered down by tiredness, stare at the blue, whose are nearly scared? Sasuke softens, recognizing the fear that Naruto's orbs held – the aftermath of war was almost as terrifying as the war itself. Kaguya cast a rather potent jutsu that manifested quickly – a month after the war. Only Byakugan users were in danger – and so it seemed only a Sharingan could heal them. Which made Sasuke get out of the prison pronto, since not even Tsunade could heal this one. Their discovery of his possibly life-saving kekkei genkai was made with a help of the most revolting person. Orochimaru edo-tenseied Madara Uchiha, the only Uchiha privy to all nooks and crannies of any doujutsu. The man had a few exausting, snarky and sarcastic sessions with Sasuke – having only heard of the issue in legends and myths of his clan. At last with much bitching (they just had to summon Hashirama so he'd calm the man down, he didn't hear the end of it) Sasuke was explained with much emotional pain from Madara's side how the only special ability he had ever seen to a Mangekyou Sharingan were the ones the user could develop aside the original three; ones like Kamui and his younger brother Izuna's Healing eye, which could heal and nurture any kind of disability and disease. The only irony laying in the predicament of him not being able to heal himself. Madara said that on a whim, it could cause people to even lose memory, and since those abilities were all passed down to Sasuke by blood. Madara was very well acquainted with what Sasuke could do (he seen it in war and he had a peek at the family tree). "Hmph." The rowdy haired man would note, Sharingan passing over the scrolls. "What," Sasuke became rather impatient as of now. "It says here, that you are related to Obito Uchiha." "And?" Sasuke hides his annoyance by the fact. "That means you are related to me, too." Dead serious, Madara waits for a reaction from the younger Uchiha. "His grandmother was my illegitimate daughter. I didn't know she existed until I met Obito. And that, Sasuke, means," he traces the line that intwines with other Uchiha, passes crossings and other details until it lands on Fugaku Uchiha, "that you are my great-great-great, many greats, grandchild. Did someone from the clan continue with a specific powerful Mangekyou Sharingan?" Sasuke answers quickly, leaving no room for any remark,"Father had a Mangekyou. He was hiding it, so the clan wouldn't force him to use it to control the Kyuubi." "Only a weak leader would allow his followers to dictate him. That's straight-out moronic." Ignoring Madara and his own clear bout of rage, Sasuke continues. "There was also Shisui of the Teleportation, he had an amazing Body Flicker Tehnique, and only Ita- my brother could match him in genjutsu. He also had a particular tehnique which he had done with his Mangekyou, Kotoamatsukami, he could manipulate a person's mind and make it seem as if the decisions he would implant in their brain were their own. My brother had a Mangekyou, and had extraordinary abilities even as a young boy. That's all." "Ooh. Would you look at that; Shisui was Kagami's boy. I bet that he inherited the Amatsukami from him. Or a variation thereof. It doesn't matter, even if the kid would be interesting to fight," Madara muses, fingers languidly passing the scrolls, ignoring Sasuke's questioning gaze. "Is your brother the one who slaughtered the entire clan with Obito's help and joined Akatsuki?"asks without raising his head from the scroll. "Aa." Sasuke's dry remark doesn't put Madara off, and Sasuke was prepared to talk about uncomfortable things. "Interesting." It's silent for a bit, and then he asks something very weird. "What about your mother? Mikoto Uchiha? Did she awaken her Mangekyou?" "Hn. I have no knowledge of such a thing." "I suspect that she has." "And how did you come to such a conclusion?" Sasuke is sceptic, but Madara mentions nothing of it. "This person, Naori Uchiha, is related to her through here, and she also has the blood of my mother's sister. My mother had a great fighting power, and I even suspect she has awakened her Mangekyou before me. Your mother had a healing prowess or something?" "Not that I know of." "Very well then. I am about to teach you a very taxing healing technique, assuming that Orochimaru has taken my eyes post-war." "How can you assume such a thing?" "It's too great of a power for him to possess, at this point. He has my Rinnegan, probably both. Since they have mutated and I am dead, I have no use for them. You will absorb them rather simply: like you do jutsu. Then come back here since we have no time to waste." "Sasuke. I am... grateful. You know I am. But..." "Ugh, fine! I will come!" "Yas! I knew you would admit defeat, 'ttebayo!" Naruto shouts triumphantly, pumping his fist in the air, shoving Sasuke sideways in the process. "HEY! NARUTO!" "Heh, heh, sorry, Sasuke..." "You will be!" = It's a lonely night, as always, in the small complex Sasuke lives in. He is plagued by thoughts – a thing far more terrifying than any jutsu. Breathes in. Out. In again. Numerous times just thinking about the action... and the house feels vastly big and lonely... Somebody's voice he wishes to hear, somebody's heartbeat he wants to sleep on... he despises himself for it, but his dreams just aren't safe when he doesn't sense another person breathing, fighting, yielding, relaxing, dreaming, sighing, saying, 'Sasuke-kun, did you put away the food? The bread will go stale if you don't...', voice like a ring, small and everpresent, orbiting around him like a navigated fireball, the kind his mother liked to show him and Itachi when they were kids. "Sasuke Uchiha-san." From his sofa in the living room, he can hear them: two ex-ANBU, now Jounin, looking to take him to the Hokage's. He doesn't expect himself to be so fast as he readied his clothes and his headband, a wave of nostalgia shooting through him as his chakra flares. They are there quickly – Kakashi's silent and tired silhouette welcoming them wearily, Sasuke finding the literal sunshine emanating off the people awaiting annoying. And, well, endearing. Sakura's pink, now slightly longer hair that is the lead role in his wildest dreams and nightmares is in a braid, the toned muscle she has covered by a thin summer dress, no trace of her headband. The summer dress was so light and tight, it made him want to sallivate. "Here he is, all ready for a mission. Didn't I tell you we might have some problems with him, Kakashi-sensei?" "Well you must have mentioned," the silver-haired Hatake smirks underneath the mask, favoring the presence of his former students plus Sai. Naruto's comments are only natural to Sasuke, so he gives no reaction. "Naruto, this is a mission, after all. A mission of you four relaxing!" Good-naturedly putting his hands on his hips as he stands up from his chair, Kakashi looks over each of them. "Sai doesn't even know what the word vacation means... Sasuke thinks it's a tropical animal probably. God knows you need one, Sakura... and as for you, Naruto..." trailing off, as if not knowing whether he is finding a good word or not, he coughs up a bile,"we all know you deserve one." "Hurrah!" Loud exclamating of the blonde moron positively burst Sasuke's eardrums, he wonders what did he do to deserve this. But, in a second, he doesn't like the answer to the question. "Sakura-chan, Sai, Sasuke! Let's go to the hot baths and have a vacation like never before!" = Somehow, Sasuke is content. The futons they sleep on in the beautifully furnished inn are warm and comfortable, and he only remembers that the comfort of his own bed could rival it. So why does he fucking avoid it like plague? Because he is already plagued. Shit got real the night he finally realized that Sakura's hair is the softest fucking thing, that she reads him like a book, knowing how he breathes, all the things he hates (there's too many), how he doesn't like to eat ramen if it isn't with Dobe, or her. How he can't tolerate his eyes being nearly boiled out of his skull while Hyuga fucking Yuuno is worried about her ponytail. The utmost respect and damn near adoration for her skill and passion for medical ninjutsu, loyalty to the quite annoying person who has taught it to her, and all the nights he would make his small patrols to find her under the light of a candle, reading yet another scroll on headaches and how to remedy those caused by Rinnegan of all things, and it's their little secret. There is the second type of plague. When he can't stop thinking about how warm her eyes are, and how aflame they would be if he just sucked on her most secret place, there, in the crook of her inner things, and he would sigh, because she'd be all warm and wet and- Crap. He earned himself a hard-on. He thought of her as a specific kind of medication one couldn't take a little more than just prescribed, because if they did – he would be addicted. Like the heady scent of chemicals – so inviting, but capable of doom. He would take not the prescribed amount – he would take so much his doctor would scream at him to stop. And he would like to make her scream soon.