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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 18 days ago

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From the Ashes Pt. 39

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Selmy POV, Cersei POV, Alizah/Rhaegar POV

Words: 4787

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

While Selmy didn’t mind traveling by sea, he much preferred the security of land. Atop of a horse where he could have more control of any situation that might arise.

A handful of Starfall’s men accompanied the knight and lady from behind. Silent sentries that kept a close eye on every moving leaf and passing by villager. This way of travel was better for where they were heading. There was only one person that Selmy could rely on the information they needed, but unfortunately the Spider was leagues away; tucked away safely in the Red Keep. Before his departure, Varys had informed Selmy that if he needed any sort of help while out in Essos, then he should venture to Pentos. In that great city was Selmy’s acquaintance who could assist them.

Time was always of the essence, now more than ever. The Targaryen siblings were gone, having vanished in the night. No clue or sign to who might have taken them or where they may have gone.

Ashara wouldn't let such trivialities get in her way. If she happened to obtain both Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys and deliver them to Rhaegar’s campaign, the tides could certainly turn to favor the Silver Prince. She’d be able to help her brother, Arthur.

“What did you say this man’s name was?” Ashara asks atop her horse, the wind making her dark hair splay out in the air. She tugs at her headscarf the best she could with her one available hand. The other was busy on the leather reigns.

“Illyrio Mopatis.” hoarsely replied Selmy as he kept his gaze ahead. They were close to Valysar, a town on the Rhoyne River. Just safe enough from the Sorrows but they would be forced to swerve off to the Disputed Lands if they didn’t want to run into any Stone Men. In Valysar they would be able to rest properly and come up with a proper plan. Barristan could make out the massive walls of the city, it wouldn’t be long.

Varys hardly gave away the names of informants. He kept those close to his chest. Ashara’s trust in those close to Aerys was rock bottom, but she did trust Selmy. He didn’t appear too concerned about it.

She rolled the name around on her tongue. “We’ll see if he is indeed trustworthy.” Ashara mumbles to herself, out of reach for Barristan to hear her doubts. Many things could go wrong in their pursuit for the Targaryen siblings. If not even the lords at Dragonstone could find anything, then how could a man in Pentos know anything?

If this man had connections with Varys, then he must be knowledgeable. Pinning such hopes on one man, Ashara knew it wasn’t a wise choice but there weren’t many options. She refused to go back to Starfall until she found Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen. She would do this for Arthur. Due to not being home for such a long time, Ashara didn’t know of how the war was fairing. No news of Arthur or any other man from Rhaegar’s army. It worried her. She didn’t like not being able to contact her brother. Especially now as it would target her location if anyone were to be searching for her.

A long ride from the shore to Valysar, their group was relieved once they passed through the city’s formidable walls and made their way to a rowdy inn. Drinks would do wonders to lift their spirits and gather more whispers that might help them in their journey. Taverns and inns were always hotspots for such, that’s how many people received their daily news. In Essos, people of all nationalities blended together with one another; sharing news from here and there for more information.

Ashara was certainly glad to get off of her saddle for respite and enjoy the cushion of the booth they occupied. While the inn lacked delicious Dornish wine, they still offered an acceptable mead which she would definitely not complain about. Even the swill that was served to them was like honey on her tongue.

She was aware that Selmy was observing her as she slammed down her mug and sighed contentedly. The knight sat across from her, cornered in by the armed man whom Ashara had introduced as Adonai who had a massive birthmark on his cheek. Next to her was her other sworn sword Karlen who was in the process of draining his own spirits. Both wore regular civilian garb, avoiding anything that would single them out as anyone of importance. The third man who had been traveling with them was standing guard at the door at a lone table. His gray eyes roving around like a hawk’s. Quillon was the biggest of Ashara’s trio and designed himself as sentry while the others allowed themselves to enjoy food and drink. Ashara had tried to get the man to join them, but he insisted on standing guard. He was always of a silent disposition and took his job seriously, something that Selmy greatly admired. The two had talked at length on the ship to strategize the best way of traveling together. Both had agreed that Ashara’s safety was of utmost importance.

Quillon had voiced his concern to Selmy about this whole venture. He had tried to bring reason to Ashara and reiterate the danger of a lady like herself traveling through Essos. Ashara was stubborn and strong willed, not willing to let her gender get in the way of anything. An annoying quality, Quillon had admitted, but also something to revere in the lady.

“I still think one of us should ride ahead to Pentos, to ensure the road’s safety.” Adonai murmurs, scratching at the birthmark on his cheek which was partially hidden by his immaculately trimmed beard. His moustache came out in sharp points that he would toy with every so often if bored.

“Letting one of you go out there alone?” Ashara shakes her head. “I would like us to stay together. Safer in a group.”

Karlen licks his lips free of the mead’s froth and leans back. “Your concern for us warms my heart, Lady Ashara, but you need not worry. We would be more than happy to do this for you.”

Selmy didn’t miss that tender tone which Karlen used toward Ashara, he wished he had though as it made something twist in his gut. Ashara didn’t seem to pay any mind to such tones and instead sighed. “Fine, if you insist on being stubborn.”

That comment roused a grin from Adonai. “We learned from the best.”

Her laugh is delightful as she produces a map from her hip bag. Spreading it on the table in front for the men to lean over and look. “Since you insist on scouting our path” Ashara’s finger traces a line from Valysar to the vast Disputed Lands “this will be your course, Karlen.”

They continued to speak about t which villages to stop by, all while Selmy noticed Quillon rise from his seat and walk over to their booth.

“My apologies for interrupting, but I just overheard the most peculiar news.”

Karlen pulls over a chair from an unused table, gesturing for his comrade to take it. As he sits down, Adonai fills Quillon’s empty hand with his own mug of mead. Barristan couldn’t help but feel a loss watching them. He had never been close to his Kingsguard brothers. They had all felt like strangers to him and many were not as chivalrous as they should have been. Not for the first time Selmy found himself missing that incorrigible brat Tyrion. The boy must have been having the time of his life with his siblings. He saw the look of unwavering hope in his eyes the moment he found out his sister was not truly dead. Finally Tyrion had back the only loving family members he had left.

Good. He deserved all the fun and joy children his age experienced.

“They’re saying (y/n) Targaryen is alive.” Quillon murmurs close to Ashara. “Rhaegar’s wife. And they claim she’s thriving in Volantis’ Fire Temple.”

Ashara’s purple irises flick over to Selmy, certain threads were being connected and a new story was coming together in her mind. She had always been too perceptive.

“That’s not even the crazy part. Many people witnessed her walk out of flames with a newborn dragon.”

Everyone at that table sat silently, allowing Quillon’s words to wash over. Certainly it was a joke. One of those ridiculous rumors that have no concrete truth to back it up.

Karlen finally scoffs in disbelief, having come to his own conclusion. “Hogwash. We were just there.”

“Ser, you know something about this.” Narrowing her eyes, Ashara watched for any telling sign that Selmy might give way.

Three more pairs of eyes fall on him making Selmy weigh his words on his throat.

He considered Ashara for a moment. Dark eyebrows furrowed as she refuses to let him go. If this could affect Arthur, Selmy knew that Ashara would not let this slip. What did this news mean for King Aerys and Rhaegar now that (y/n) was alive? While many believed that Aerys had a hand in her death, she was not the only catalyst for this civil war. It had been in the works for years as tension between the king and his wayward son built and overflowed.

Mind made up, he beckons everyone into a tight circle. If word got out that Selmy revealed Varys’ involvement, who knew what trouble he would be in when he returned to King’s Landing. As if his desertion wasn’t enough to incite his execution.

“They call her Lys the Lovely.” Phiobe tells Cersei as their ship pulls into the harbor docks. Behind them, the Black Dahlia’s crew hurried with ropes and shouting orders. Indeed even at a glance the island of Lys was one of the most gorgeous sights Cersei had laid her eyes upon. The marble and ivory domed building that glared against the sun. The waters were a clear blue below, welcoming one and all.

Being nudged by Phiobe with her elbow, Cersei looks at the woman just in time to catch a coin. Safely in her palms, Cersei rolls it over to find a naked woman etched on to the surface.

Cersei had never seen Lysene currency, but of course it made sense that a naked woman would be present on their coins. Lysine valued beauty and money above all else. They were infamous for their many pillows houses.

A strike of fear curdled in Cersei. “And why are we here? Change your mind to give me to your prince?”

Phiobe waves her off with a light-hearted chuckle. “Certainly not. I know he will find you as amusing as I do. We must refill our larders. Yi Ti is quite a long way and the fewer stops we make, the faster we’ll get there. Although you might as well learn a few things from the women here.”

She pauses, as if coming across a sudden thought. “This never crossed my mind to ask you, nor does it matter much, but do you still have your maiden’s head?”

Her fingers close over the coin, nails digging into the tender skin of her palm. That moment of silence gave the Red Dahlia the answer she needed.

Phiobe nodded. “Good. Then you already know what to do.”

Holding her contempt in her mouth, Cersei fixes her eyes back on the incoming island with its striking architecture. Palm trees swayed against the warm breeze that rolled in.

“Don’t look like that, enjoy yourself while you’re here. It's an island rich with art and culture. Not freely of course.” With a gloved finger to her chin, Phiobe scans over her crew. She had to be careful with whom she assigned to protect Cersei. Certain men might be too aggressive toward her if Cersei used that whip like tongue of her’s. She didn’t seem like someone who was aware of her current station. Not someone who would easily fall for the attractiveness either. Such a man didn’t stand a chance as the Westerosi lady was indeed a beauty with her red lips and blazing green eyes with cream skin.

“Ferid! Dardan!” Happily calling out to them, they were in front of the women in mere moments. “These men will be escorting you around Lys. This strapping man is my quartermaster, Dardan.”

The big man she was referring to stepped forward. He looked meaner than a rabid dog. Nose large and flat, telling a story of a lifetime of brawling. HIs large gray coat added to his immense size. Thick, black bristles line his square jaw which emphasized his dark complexion. Unruly eyebrow hairs gave him a wild air. The blade which hung off of his hip had a large gold guard.

“And Ferid, an Unsullied, I was able to acquire in Astapor some years ago. You know of the Unsullied, yes?”

Ferid stood rigidly tall and nodded his bald head in silent greeting. A large tattoo of a many legged insect crawled around his pierced ear. The dark skin of his exposed arms shined with years of old scars.

Loathing the idea of going anywhere with the two, Cersei turns to the Red Dahlia. “I would much rather stay in the captain’s quarters.”

She shakes her head. “You’ll have plenty of time there. I insist upon this. This or I put you in the cargo hold.”

Cersei scrunches up her nose. That was even worse.

She looks over at the awaiting city. It wouldn’t hurt to stretch her legs. Who knows what she would find on the island of Lys, even as a captive there held so many possibilities that Cersei just had to take the chance.

So many sights and sounds, Cersei experienced a surge of being thrillingly overwhelmed. From lounges came the delightful smelling smoke, curling out of open windows framed by vines flowers. Going through the harbor marketplace, she saw goods that Lys the Lovely had to offer. Cersei9 swore the very air tasted sweet. Looking from Phiobe to the Lysene people, it would be no surprise to Cersei if she found out that Phiobe had Lysene in her veins. The captain seemed completely at ease among the people buzzing about. Certain streets were separated by a slim, gentle river of water. Exotic fish lazily followed the current, some as big as Cersei’s head. She also spotted slaves being toted around every other street.

Under a portico made out of pink stone, Phiobe gives instructions to Dardan to bring Cersei back before the sun sets. Her wide brimmed hat protected her from the sun’s rays. There were people at a nearby pond that sparkled brightly, completely unaware that Cersei was this woman's captive.

“Where are you going?” Cersei asks. The other crew members had set off in the market to replenish revisions. What was there for the captain to do?

“I have business here as well. Don’t you worry about me.” She winks Cersei’s way. Only when the Red Dahlia turned to leave did Cersei spy a familiar red velvet pouch hanging from her hip. Part of her dowry to Oberyn Martell. She bid it good riddance. They were still too close to Dorne for her comfort, another reason why Cersei had not wanted to leave the ship. Who knows if her father had already sent people to look for her. The way the war was turning, it didn’t seem likely that Tywin would be able to send help anytime soon.

Cersei jumped involuntarily when she felt a hand on her wrist. She tries to wrench it out of Ferid’s grip but the slave from Astapor would not relent and attached a bronze handcuff around the wrist he held. A growl curls her lips and a great urge to gouge his eyes out nearly drove Cersei to committing such an act of violence.

She knew better than to fight back though. These men would not be afraid to kill her. Guessing that Phiobe wouldn’t necessarily mind having her killed. She could just get her prince in Yi Ti another girl while they were in Lys.

Ferid returns her glare and he would prove to be the dominant one as Cersei averted her eyes to the ground. He secures the other cuff onto his wrist and lets their hands dangle.

Dardan covers Cersei on the other side, moving his hand to the pommel of his magnificent sword. “Lead the way.”

This definitely would not be as enjoyable as Cersei had been hoping. She turns in the direction where she could still see Phiobe’s hat above the crowd.

Lady Analu waited on her porch, the marble column supporting her as she leaned against it.

Slowly emerging from the crowd she found a familiar face she hadn’t seen in a long time. She smiles at her approaching daughter and waves at some lingering people to go inside. They obeyed her, it was a nice change to how her life used to be before her daughter became a captain of a pirate vessel. Long ago, Lady Analu had been the one to take orders with no other choice. Now she had her own marvelous estate and her pillow house was acclaimed as a must visit establishment.

“And here I thought you had forgotten about your poor mother.” Lady Analu puts on a show of being hurt.

Phiobe merely throws her head back and laughs. “Poor? Look at where you stand!”

She smiles. Lady Analu had missed her daughter’s laugh. “Come inside. How long do you have?”

“I have to leave before the sun goes down. Until then, you have me as company.”

Delighted, Lady Analu pulls Phiobe inside of her brothel. Bypassing the entrance hall and crossing into the courtyard that separated business and pleasure. Lady Analu’s personal wing opened up into a lounge where she instructed her daughter to sit. A few of Analu’s special clients lingered on cushions, chatting amongst one another. The men looked upon Phiobe with great interest but one glare from Analu stopped any indecent thoughts that they might be having. Not that Phiobe minded the attention much. A cocky grin graces her features and her mother merely rolled her eyes.

“You always were too confident with your looks.” She comments. A slave with drinks on a tray stops at their alcove and leans down. Analu takes off two stemmed glasses, handing one to Phiobe.

White wine on her tongue, Phiobe relishes in the zing. “Where do you think I learned it from?”

Shaking her head and with a smile, she sips at her own glass. “Cheeky girl.” Phiobe still looked the same as last time. That must have been two years ago. Even as Phiobe was coming up to her 30th name day, she still possessed her youthful beauty. A trait many women would kill for.

From her hip, Phiobe retrieves a velvet pouch and pushes it in front of her mother. “For you.”

“I told you last time, I don’t need it. As you can see I’ve been doing very well for myself.” Analu tries to push it back but Phiobe held out a firm hand.

“I know. I do this more so for myself. Please take it, mother.”

Immediately she is swayed and softens. “Very well. Where are you headed after Lys?”

“Yi Ti.” Phiobe leans back in her seat, shoulders relaxing as she did so. “I have a gift for Heiu Hoai. Something I found off the coast of Westeros.”

“You should stop by Volantis on your way.” commented Analu as she goes in for another sip but halts at the confused expression on her daughter’s face. “Ah, I take it you haven’t heard yet.

Phiobe hated not being in the know. “What?”

After calling over a man by the name of Osip, he recounts what he had witnessed during a trip he took to Volantis for business. A girl who walked through fire and came out alive with a shrieking baby dragon. Those at the temple called her Azor Ahai Reborn, others whispered her real name.

The dead bride of Westeros’ Rhaegar Targaryen: (y/n).

“I know how it sounds.” Osip sheepishly admits. “I wouldn’t have believed it either if someone had told me. But I saw it as well as thousands of others.”

None of that sounded odd to her; in fact she had witnessed great sea monsters several times during her years on the sea. What took her aback was the name of this girl.

“Did you say her name is (y/n)?”

He gaped a little before telling her the name once more, confirming what Phiobe had been thinking. Hadn’t Cersei mentioned her sister’s name was (y/n)? In Volantis where she had sent out an assassin to get rid of her.

Lady Analu was startled by her daughter’s smile. There was something conniving in there that she chose not to dwell upon. She didn’t need to know what Phiobe did out in the world. Many nights she would hear the gossiping of patrons about pirates they had encountered. Several times did Analu hear her daughter’s pseudonym spat around. The things she had heard sent chills through her body. To think that the little girl she used to hold in her arms could do terrible things kept her up at night. But it was thanks to Phiobe’s cruelty that Analu was able to gain her freedom and step up in the ranks.

Grudgingly Cersei had to admit that Phiobe had been right. Lys was littered with not just brothels, but exquisite statues, colorful flora and fauna, and lively music that had Cersei gazing this way and that.

Stylish women walked around with flowers secured into their curled hair. Their clothing flowed in a way that accentuated their curves.

All of this beauty did not faze her guards. They kept alert and weapons at the ready. Looking so out of place in a land that was bathed in perfume and abundant with creatures so appealing to the eyes.

Tywin had mentioned the Unsullied a few years back in a private discussion with his brother Kevan. In the dark hallway stood Cersei, her breathing stalled and her ear pressed against the door. They were men who were culled at a very young age and trained to be an unstoppable force.

That explained why Fedir took no interest in any woman that passed by his gaze. He was a eunuch. Dardan, looking to be long in the tooth, still appeared to be in the prime of his life with his thick muscles. Surely he must have a craving for desires of the flesh. After all, he spent months on end on the ship with nothing but men (excluding of course the captain).

“We should start heading back now.” Dardan eventually says once he takes a look up at the sky.

Ferid pulled Cersei along. Her time was up. From here, Phiobe had no plans of making any more stops. A straight journey. She had mentioned that it could take up to two months if they were lucky. All that time for (y/n) to enjoy her life. The thought upset

Cersei but there was nothing she could do at the moment.

Dardan and Ferid seemed to know the streets just as well as their captain for they were soon back under the same portico that Phiobe had told them to reconvene in. The captain was already there.

There was no greeting. Instead Phiobe grinned at Cersei. “You never told me your sister was a princess.”

“We’ve driven them away from the northern border.”

Robert strokes his beard, examining the map of Storm’s End and King’s Landing. Shadows creased over his face while another captain pipes up. “They won’t be able to pass through the mountains either.”

“For once we can thank the gods for our shit weather.” chuckled another.

This news did little to spring relief into Rhaegar. He shakes his head. “Whether we have a month or a year, it won’t matter unless we can acquire naval forces. We can only keep Aerys’ men at bay for so long before they regroup. We’re stranded right now.” The grim reminder made everyone antsy for a solution. A few days ago, Prince Oberyn had left with half of his men to send a missive to his brother from Greenstone. There they would have to wait for Dornish warships to arrive. Who knew how long that would take.

Another headache plagued the front of Rhaegar’s skull, he associated it with the scar that ran diagonally across his face. They were starting to get worse. He refused to take any more milk of the poppy. Supplies were already running low, they needed it for the wounded soldiers.

All he could do was grin and bare it. There were other things that needed his focus on. A headache would not stop him from winning the Iron Throne. He had to.

“They won’t be able to brave our shores. Not with the waves we have. Only one from the Stormlands could ever dream of safely navigating it.” Robert murmurs.

There was a polite knock before an armed guard enters. “Lord Robert, some of our men have accosted three individuals coming from Shipbreaker Bay. Two men and a young lady. She says she’s here for Prince Rhaegar.”

Moving around the table, Robert and Rhaegar swoop in. “Did they identify themselves?”

The guard nods. “The young lady is a red priestess from Volantis. The two men are there to protect her. She appears to be blind, my lord”

What business did the followers of R’hllor have with a warring prince? Lord and prince exchange glances. Rhaegar was sold when the guard added “And she mentioned something about knowing (y/n) Targaryen.”

Rhaegar felt his chest constrict. This red priestess from Volantis knew about his dead wife. As far as Rhaegar knew, (y/n) had never left the Seven Kingdoms before. “What proof does she have?”

“She mentioned. . .” he looked uncomfortable for a moment before continuing. “She mentioned that you were going to name your child Jaeharys.”

That had been information that only Rhaegar and (y/n) knew about.

There was no need to ask anymore questions. They follow the guard down the stairs to the audience chamber where Lyanna was hosting they’re unexpected guests. Lyanna appeared just as confused about the situation as she managed a small smile.

Requiring help from her attendants to get up from her chair, Lyanna greets her husband and liege prince.

In front of his wife was a petite, pale faced girl. Her black lips formed a smile as she gathered the hem of her dress in a curtsy. “Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Lovely to finally meet you. I am Lady Alizah, red priestess of the Temple of Volantis.”

“So I’ve heard. You said you knew my wife.” He didn’t want to play games. Rhaegar wanted to get to the point of their visit and stirring bad memories from his mind.

Despite his interruption, Alizah was patient and Rhaegar noticed how pitch dark her eyes were. She was indeed blind so then why did he feel like she was staring right at him? “I know you’re wife. I’ve come here to tell you, on behalf of R’hllor, that she is alive. That night of the fire did not kill her. She thrives.”

Anger flared beneath his cheeks. “Do you really think you can fool me?”

“Of course not.” Alizah closes her eyes and the fire that was dwindling behind them in the fireplace surged to life to the point Robert leapt back lest his fur cloak catch fire. Even the flickering flames in the sconces soared to a tall height.

Robert was nearing the point of drawing his warhammer until Lyanna rested a hand on his arm. She shook her head. Slowly, Robert put his hand down and stood to the side with his wife. The two men behind Alizah hadn’t flinched the entire time.

“You have no reason to believe. I am a foreigner, one you have never met before. And she has the audacity to say your wife is alive.” Alizah chuckles a little. “How else would I have known (y/n)’s name for her unborn child. By the way, were you aware she got those scars on her back from a lion?”

Those were facts that couldn’t be refuted. No one else had ever known that outside of her immediate family that (y/n) was ever maimed by a lion. Trapped by her cruel older sister.

“I think we should sit down. I have a story I would like to share with you. It actually starts with a girl named Thalina.”

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anerdinallherglory · 28 days ago

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Approaching Sun (39)

Author’s Note: UPDATE 10/22: Due to some recent controversy of this chapter, minor changes were made to emphasize the reasoning behind Sakura’s actions. In no way, am I downplaying the seriousness of suicide attempts or making Sasuke out to be a toxic asshole. This is new for him and new for Sakura, and for more of my rational behind this chapter, visit my tumblr account to see my full response. With that being said, please read this version first, and if you can handle more, read the AO3 version. I understand that I cannot make everyone happy, and it’s not my intention to, but I do want to depict the seriousness of such topics with care. Other than that, I wipe my hands of this chapter. If you don't like the direction of this story, please let it go and try some other sasusaku fics who might do the characters more justice for you. Thank you.

CW/Important Note, PLEASE READ: There are two versions of this chapter. This is the edited, non-explicit version. This version is a more poetic, fade-to-black version that adheres to site rules and guidelines.

If you would like to read the full, unedited, absolutely unhinged-in-how-filthy-it-is version, visit my linktree anerdinallherglory, (located in my bio description) to find the link to the fic on AO3, where appropriate tags will be used. After reading the tags, you may have decided not to pursue reading that M version. I do believe that many would prefer this edited version, but I could be completely wrong for some.

!!BOTH VERSIONS have a depiction of a panic attack and intense emotions and discussion of a fake threat of suicide

*Songs for this chapter Black Sun by Death Cab for Cutie, The Hearse (Stripped) by Matt Maeson, Difficult by Billy Raffoul, Habits of my Heart by Jaymes Young, and Die Trying by Michl

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38

Chapter 39: On Behalf of the World

Sakura had been right. Kakashi had been positively miffed when Lady Tsunade and Sakura promptly reverse-summoned an entire group of ninja—via the slug express as Sasuke had so eloquently put it—and marched them all straight into his office at two-hours past sunrise. Kakashi and Shikamaru, who looked as if they had only recently returned themselves from their mini-vacation in Sunagakure, practically leaned over from behind each of their designated towers of late paperwork to drop their jaws in astonishment at the suddenly cramped room.

Sakura smiled guiltily, Sasuke ‘hmphed’ humorously, and Tsunade, who had insisted on coming along to see the Sixth’s reaction, cackled loudly and pointed a finger at Kakashi who, in return, frowned at the former Hokage with obvious envy about life on the other side of retirement.

Tsunade’s laughter grew louder when Sasuke didn’t hesitate to activate his Rinnegan and reveal another twenty-five fear-stricken members of Zenshin who clung to their reunited acquaintances. Sakura caught Sasuke’s eyes with her own when the newcomers recoiled from the Uchiha’s presence in obvious traumatic fear, and Sakura suddenly became highly suspicious that they had endured a torturous genjutsu for at least a small length of time before they had been ejected into another dimension.

Kakashi sighed loudly for all to hear and leaned back in his chair in disbelief at the increasing crowd of convicts. To Sakura’s amazement, they all looked down at their feet in the Hokage’s presence, even the loudest of them, quiet now that they were among five of the most powerful ninja in the Leaf Village. They hadn’t even met Naruto yet. They knew their inadequate skills and ninjutsu would get them nowhere here.

Sakura rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly as she pushed forward through the gathering of people who had been intent on killing her just twenty-four hours ago. Some sneered at her as she passed while the newcomers stared openly at her in shock. She felt Sasuke’s narrowed eyes on her back as she made her way through the pit of vipers.

“Please tell me you didn’t just bring fifty more criminals into my village,” Kakashi frowned at her. It was technically fifty-one, but she wasn’t going to add that additional number right now. It would have been fifty-two if they hadn’t woken up this morning to discover a member of Zenshin missing to the shadows of the Shikkotsu Forest. Toka had taken the risk after all, it seemed, rising at some point in the night to face the terrors within, gambling his life on the small likelihood he might survive the Forest for a chance at a future as a father. Sakura had silently wished him luck upon discovery, for Tabi’s sake, but she wasn’t going to be fool enough to provide him any sort of assistance—there was always the risk of him returning to whatever was left of Zenshin now, even though Sakura wasn’t too worried about it in the long run. She’d handle it as it came.

Kakashi continued his scowling reprimand. “I had thought at least half of this group would be going to Sunagakure when I signed off on that.”

When she placed the mentioned scrolls with each of their names and sentencing on his desk, and smiled again, saying, “I sort of gave them the choice,” Kakashi gave her the most affronted look he had ever given his student. She knew he was wanting to respond with something like ‘on whose authority?’ but then she saw his next train of thought cross his face, register behind his eyes, and evolve into acceptance with another resigned sigh. Team 7 was as close as Kakashi would ever get to having children; the three of them took advantage of their old sensei at every turn, especially since he became Hokage with much more influence at his disposal. Just when Sakura thought Kakashi would finally put one of Team 7 in their place, Sakura could practically see when Kakashi weighed the request and caved like an overfond parent, deciding that there was very little he wouldn’t do for the three ninja he had almost lost at one point or another in the past.

He pulled Sakura’s scroll across the desk like it was the heaviest thing in the world, unfurling it slowly, as if he dreaded the finality of the contents inside.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing Tsunade, since it says here that all twenty-seven—” he looked up at the assembly Sasuke had revealed—“double that, now—are to attend the Mental Health Clinic you are currently in charge of. In addition to any medical attention they might need beforehand.”

The laughter did stop then as Tsunade opened her mouth and swung her head in Sakura’s direction, obviously not aware of that particular clause in Sakura’s sentencing. Shikamaru laughed under his breath when the Fifth released a sigh to compete with the current Hokage’s.

Sakura just giggled lightly, continuing to blush deeply and smile guiltily at her two former masters. “Um, well I will definitely help with that this evening, Lady Tsunade. I’d like to check up on Isao, as well. He did make it back here with you guys, correct?” She easily got distracted when her mind wandered to a patient she cared deeply for. And it was Isao, the young boy she had gotten quite attached to over the past few months; she hadn’t been this emotionally invested in a while. It was easy to spiral when her work was involved, and Sakura sometimes found herself completely forgetting everyone else present.

“One thing at a time,” Kakashi sighed, turning to Shikamaru, who flinched under the Hokage’s sudden attention. It usually meant that he was about to have work to do—work that the Hokage was redirecting to him, and Sakura silently wondered to herself how anything got done between the two. And then she was thinking of Naruto, the soon-to-be Hokage-in-training, and was suddenly overcome with agita at the future ping-pong match of responsibility between the two laziest ninja of their year as Shikamaru continued his duty of chief aide to the Hokage.

“Shikamaru, please escort this caravan to the prison-hold, for now. Arrange for them to be brought food and water, and whatever basics can be provided for them while we assemble a team of medics to see to them. I’ll have to think of where to house and facilitate them in the meantime. Lady Fifth, do you mind assist—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Tsunade sighed, and Sakura laughed awkwardly at the former Hokage’s inability to take orders since she had been so used to dishing them out for five years. “Come on kid, let’s get this over with,” she said to Shikamaru, and he slowly rose to his feet with a sigh, mumbling something about his unfortunate lot with Hokages.

“This way,” Shikamaru waved them all behind him and they filed out after him like ants, Tsunade on their heels. They must have heard the rumors of the Fifth’s temper and strength, then, Sakura thought, as nobody took a step out of line. Sakura couldn’t believe her luck as a few of them even looked back to her for reassurance, fear of the change in warden crossing their features. On her way out the door, Tsunade gave Sakura the ‘You’ll-be-following-shortly-to-help-with-this’ look, and Sakura nodded out of the teenage habit of student compliance.

This left Sakura alone with a silent, brooding Sasuke in the back of the room, and a silent, exhausted Kakashi at the front. Sakura suddenly felt like an uncomfortable sandwich.

She cleared her throat as Kakashi stood and made his way around his desk to stand before her, placing a hand on her shoulder, a different, relieved sort of sigh escaping this time. “I’m glad to see that you are okay.”

Sasuke immediately scoffed to himself at that declaration, an ejection of air from his nose, and Sakura and Kakashi both looked over at him as he stood perched against the wall as still as if he hadn’t just made a noise at all.

Kakashi looked back to her, gripping her shoulder encouragingly before releasing her altogether. “Sometimes I miss the girl who fainted multiple times during that first bell test—where has she gone? She certainly isn’t before me, now. Hasn’t been for years.”

Sakura wanted to laugh at that and tell her sensei that if she remembered correctly, she was fainting because she thought Sasuke had been hurt and would probably do so again under more authentic life-threatening circumstances if they occurred in the future. And that she was still prone to fainting spells if she got worked up enough. But her sensei was giving her a compliment right now and she didn’t feel like reminding him otherwise at the moment. She smiled and thanked her sensei.

“Is this all of them?” he asked. “Is the situation finally settled?”

“Not quite,”Sakura confessed. “I never learned the exact number, but we might have more luck with interrogations this time. I do know that there’s still someone out there—a man named Mozai, and who knows how many more.”

“Gaara got the same name from the Shade,” the Sixth declared, and Sakura’s eyes widened, not ever having expected the Shade to be the one to give that up. Mako hadn’t been given the name at all. “We thought he was the leader at first.”

“So did I, until Mako told me otherwise,” Sakura confirmed, but remembered her shock when Mako had told her that the organization worked in cells similar to the Akatsuki, the Shade being in charge of those who had attacked her back in the deserts of Suna.

“We can investigate it further and send a team to handle it this time,” Kakashi reassured her. “In the meantime, I’m just glad the two of you are home.”

“No need. I’m sure they’ll either disappear or come for me eventually. And if I could handle the others, I’m sure I can handle a few more when the time comes.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, and she caught him glance over to Sasuke, whose stare she could feel straight into her back.

She cleared her throat, “If that’s everything sensei, can I be excused? I just want to check on Isao now.”

Kakashi nodded emphatically, gesturing for Sakura to go ahead and take her leave. She turned quickly, making eye contact with Sasuke before she made to exit. He wasn’t moving to follow her, and Sakura realized suddenly that he was intending to hang behind to talk to Kakashi on his own. Her stomach turned a little at that, wondering what he might have to say without her, but he nodded and boldly said, “I’ll find you afterwhile.”

And her mood instantly lifted, and she nodded back, trying not to grin stupidly in the presence of an everwatching sensei who always knew more than he should. It was like if Sakura smiled, then Kakashi’s sharingan-less eyes could still see straight through her like a parent who knew their child was keeping a secret. She cleared her throat and left them, saving her face-splitting smile for the hallway as she skipped to find Isao.

Kakashi was back to sighing when Sakura left, and Sasuke’s eyes landed on him like sharp kunai. In contrast to Sakura’s ten-year change since the Bell Test, Sasuke was giving Kakashi that same hateful stare that made Kakashi reminiscent of the relentless youth who had always been determined, always had a purpose, and never really cared whether he came off as rude to anyone else. Kakashi was used to this Sasuke—had dealt with him a few days ago in the presence of the Kazekage.

“If I have to watch someone who I love die, sacrificing themselves for the sake of the Leaf Village, again, the person who I am now won’t survive it. What’s left of the shinobi world will either fall to the Otsusuki race in my absence, or it will fall to the person I will become. That will be its fate if you keep me here and she dies, Kakashi.” Those were the words Sasuke had used to manipulate the Hokage and Kazekage both when the Uchiha was being retained against his will. When Sasuke had uttered such words before the very ninja who had given him another chance, Kakashi had felt like a stone of foreboding had fallen into the pit of his stomach.

After Sasuke had been allowed to leave, a very tense discussion followed. Gaara had raised his concerns once again about Sasuke, to which Kakashi had no immediate response, because Kakashi, himself, didn’t know if Sasuke would ever be capable of turning on them all once more. He was unpredictable, the Uchiha. His attachments either tethered him to goodness or dropped him right into the depths of darkness. Kakashi had believed Sasuke to be returned for good, had taken up his self-sacrificial role of a journey of atonement in order to ensure that no threat could be posed to the shinobi world again. But Sasuke’s response to the situation with Sakura contradicted his very goal, didn’t it? Where did his allegiances lie? Who could guarantee that Sasuke would never fall again?

Naruto had apologized to both Gaara and Kakashi on his behalf, saying, “You don’t have to worry. He doesn’t mean that. He’s just upset and concerned. He and Sakura, they’re—”

“Don’t make excuses for him Naruto,” Gaara had responded. “Threats like that have to be taken seriously. Especially from him.”

“He’s not like that anymore,” Naruto insisted. “He’s under a lot of stress. Think about what we’ve asked him to do for the world. He thought he’d never get a chance to pursue a happiness like this. And now you’re letting Sakura go and face a threat to her life all by herself.” And then Naruto was glaring at Kakashi, too. “You taught us about teamwork, remember? That was our very first lesson from you, and you let her go alone. Has being Hokage made you lose sight of that? He wouldn’t have had to make that threat if you remembered that lesson yourself in the first place.”

And it had felt like a punch to Kakashi’s gut. Gaara had frowned as Naruto spoke and he had turned back to the Kazekage and added, “I’ll handle it. It won’t, but if it ever gets that bad again, I’ll be here to stop him. However many times it takes. I have already made that promise to him, myself.”

The conversations had ended after that. And Kakashi had holed up into the guest quarters of the Sand, staying through the night before making the trip back to Konoha. The jinchuriki was boisterous and loud for the sake of their tag-along, Isao, who nervously chose the path forward into a new land, carrying his entire life’s belonging in one rucksack. He looked to Naruto as a sense of comfort, but the following night, after Isao had fallen asleep beside their fire, Naruto had dropped his faux excitement and stared up into the stars a long time as he quietly kept to himself. The following morning, as they stood outside the A N gates, Naruto spoke his next request lowly. “Don’t tell Sakura,” Naruto had breathed between them, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Whenever she comes back, don’t tell her what he said. She deserves this newfound happiness with Sasuke. I’ll talk to him.”

And that had been the end of it. Until now. Because despite Naruto’s assurance and his promise to talk to Sasuke himself, Kakashi was feeling responsible again. As Sasuke’s sensei, Kakashi had taken him aside before, explaining to the youth how he, too, had already lost all his loved ones to the shinobi way of life and that Sasuke should give up on revenge. And now, he felt the need to remind Sasuke of the hard lesson he had thought the Uchiha had already learned.

“If you want to remain in the good graces of the Kages, you shouldn’t carelessly throw around threats. It wasn’t well received. Your reputation isn’t going to improve if you still come across as an insubordinate. Naruto and I had to do some damage control after you left.”

Sasuke scoffed aloud again, and Kakashi bristled when the Uchiha didn’t even seem to listen to the beginning of his lecture, falling straight into that sardonic voice as he said, “I hope this next threat is better received, because I don’t plan on breaking the habit today.”

Kakashi raised an unexpectant eyebrow at that statement. A threat to him? He shook his head as he prepared himself. He didn’t like where this was going.

“You sent her to a brothel.” Sasuke stated contemptuously, narrowing his only visible eye.

Ah. That. Kakashi supposed he would be hearing about this from one of the boys; hadn’t quite expected it to be Sasuke, though. Kakashi had hated that part of Sakura’s plan. Was very tempted to force her to stay with them in Suna when she had confessed it to him. However, as both a Hokage and someone with a very fair estimation of Sakura’s capabilities, the plan had made sense. He had full faith that she would be able to protect herself and execute her plan flawlessly. When Kakashi had raised concerns, Sakura did specifically tell him that the bathhouse was just a stage and she didn’t quite plan on performing the entire act that went with that stage. She had walked him through step-by-step of it. And he trusted her, as a medic, to be able to excute the anesthetic approach to captivation flawlessly.

“That was her plan; it sounded foolproof, and she assured me she would be safe. No one here is forced or asked to do that sort of thing for a mission. It’s been a thing of the past since Tsunade became Hokage. She made sure of it. Except for the rare occasion, on a voluntary basis—"

“It ends,” Sasuke drawled, interrupting him once again. “For everyone. Today. No matter the occasion.”

Kakashi sighed, feeling like Sasuke wasn’t quite understanding that his former sensei wasn’t saying he condoned Leaf ninja using their bodies as a means of success in a mission. That wasn’t what Sakura had been planning to do; it was the illusion of that to get inside.

“Or Naruto will hear more about Sakura’s recent mission himself,” Sasuke finished, finally delivering that threat he promised. And Kakashi really did feel more like a father than a Kage. An old man who had just had one troublesome son threaten him with the other, just as problematic, one. Meanwhile, the second son was yelling at him about sending Sakura (the daughter in this ridiculous scenario?) and foregoing all their training about teamwork. This entire thing made Kakashi feel like a figurehead, a reminder that Sasuke had begun his covert Kage rein long before Naruto would begin his official one, and Naruto, who acted like Hokage before he had even started. Not to mention Sakura forming plans on her own and expecting Kakashi’s approval to follow through with them. Ugh. If they only just saw him as someone to manipulate as they saw fit, then they should just relieve him of such duties and provide him the retirement check he wanted. But alas, he was still in charge. Kakashi loved the village and would die protecting it, but he knew the title of “Sixth Hokage” was a temporary placement holder until Naruto was ready to take over, and Sasuke and Shikamaru with him.

“I agree that it shouldn’t be allowed,” Kakashi informed him, just so there was no confusion about this topic. “Sakura was successful because of the disguise. She assured me she wasn’t going to go as far as that. I never would have let her go if she had.”

“Do you think she would have told you if she had planned it? She did more than she should have had to simply because she was in that situation. And that’s my point.”

“What did she do? You’re not saying—" Kakashi asked, suddenly feeling like his stomach was twisting violently. Would she have lied to him? Had Naruto been right? Had he just sent Sakura without a team into a situation Kakashi shouldn’t have?

“You don’t get to know what,” Sasuke hissed. “Because if I hadn’t followed her, then no one would know.”

Kakashi’s stomach turned again as he thought about what Sakura might feel obligated to do to complete a mission she had proposed herself because it had been about her. Would she have done anything to ensure it was a success? Would she have felt like it was her personal sacrifice to make in order to obtain the members of the organization simply because she was their target? A part of the Hokage’s duties came with giving orders and entrusting missions to the ninja the Hokage believed would deliver and follow through with those orders.

He looked back at Sasuke differently, then. Kakashi always thought he might be the one to know his students best in the beginning. But Sasuke knew a great deal more now about personal sacrifice because he, himself, had taken that road as his ninja path. Maybe Sasuke understood Sakura in her most recent mission on a level the rest of them could not, simply because it was his own personal convictions being mirrored back to him in the girl who loved him. Maybe it was that particular fact that had Sasuke braving to threaten the Hokage again, because he somewhat felt responsible for her choice. Sasuke was doing more than threatening Kakashi; he was asking him to stop Sakura in circumstances like this in the future. To continue to look after her as he had always done as her sensei. Because he was going to be gone and couldn’t do it himself.

“And why do you suddenly care so much Sasuke?” Kakashi prompted, already knowing the answer but wanting to force the Uchiha to admit it. It was the truth Sasuke needed to acknowledge outright before Kakashi confronted the Uchiha further. “Naruto, I could understand, but until two days ago in the Kazekage’s meeting room, you’ve always acted like you couldn’t really be bothered—”

“There’s no point in telling you what you already know, so move on with it,” Sasuke interrupted and Kakashi nodded thoughtfully. So, he was past the point of denying his growing attachment to Sakura. Kakashi’s thoughts returned to that ever-growing connection. Just a few days ago, Kakashi had been beaming with joy at having caught his two students together in a shared room in Sunagakure. But now, after Sasuke’s threat, the Hokage was concerned about it. As much as he wished otherwise, maybe the opening of the Uchiha’s heart wouldn’t turn out to be a good thing after all. Sasuke cared about Naruto. He cared about Sakura. But she had become something more over the course of the last few months at the very least, if not before that. He suddenly thought of Obito and Rin, and what Rin’s death had done to Obito.

Would a matter of a few months change Sasuke’s bearings and weaken his resolve about a peaceful future in a worst case scenario?

While Sasuke was complying with responses to his questions, Kakashi pushed further, “Naruto says that we don’t have to worry about the threat you made to the shinobi world in Sunagakure. Is that true? Being a shinobi comes with risks; Sakura is a frontline medic and more. There is always a gamble of her safety. As there is for me. And for Naruto, as well.”

There was silence as Sasuke stared beyond Kakashi and into the faces of the Hokage Mountain at his back. Kakashi wasn’t certain if Sasuke was going to even respond at first, but then he reached some sort of conclusion in his mind, “If Naruto exists, the world will never have to worry. We have the same goal. I will protect the Leaf. More so now than ever, I must find out everything I can about the Otsusuki. I’ve sacrificed everything for that.”

“Not everything, it seems,” Kakashi said aloud and Sasuke’s scowl deepened.

“Everything and more,” Sasuke corrected. “My future and hers.” It was a brutal truth that made Kakashi frown in contemplation. Being connected to Sasuke would bring Sakura a future of suffering and sacrifices of her own.

And then Sasuke was making his exit, excusing himself as he always did. And as Kakashi watched him leave, he thought of something else. Even more than Sakura, Kakashi was suddenly concerned about another unspoken factor. The Uchiha may not go to such lengths again on behalf of his current bonds, but the ultimate attachment to those who might be born from this “newfound happiness” between teammates—that might different. The loss of a friend is one thing. The loss of a spouse another. But the loss of a child was a pain more terrible than the first two. And definitely one to seek vengeance over. Would anyone truly be able to stop him then? But Kakashi didn’t say this aloud to Sasuke, hoping that Naruto would always be the insurance the shinobi world needed to keep the Uchiha in the light.

“Use the Uchiha compound,” Sasuke called back to him as if he had just thought of something else to add. “Build the clinic, the wards, or a prison. I don’t care. Whatever she wants, you can build it there, but put the Uchiha crest on it. I leave tomorrow to hunt down the rest of Zenshin, so there will be more coming if I don’t end up having to kill them, first.”

Kakashi rose an eyebrow at Sasuke’s parting words. The Uchiha had just given him permission to use his ancestral clan territory to expand Sakura’s professional reach and display the symbol of Uchiha pride once more. And told him he would have even more prisoners to take care of. Kakashi sighed.

The sun was high and bright over the ninja academy when Sakura finally found Isao and Naruto. They stood just outside the red doors of the building, that leaf symbol towering above the entrance crippling Sakura with nostalgia as she approached. That same lonely swing hung from the tree just outside. She was glad to not see Naruto sitting in that swing anymore. Now, he was serving as a personal tour guide, introducing Isao to Iruka Sensei, who had been promoted from homeroom teacher to Konoha Academy headmaster. Iruka was teasing Naruto’s past behavior lightheartedly to which Naruto was guffawing loudly over or cheesing bashfully at the accusations. Konohamaru was also among the group and Sakura was shocked at how much he had grown as well. Full of reminiscent wistfulness, Sakura hung back a moment despite how much she wanted to rush to them. Isao’s wide smile was just as vibrant as the others and Sakura felt relieved to see him surrounded with a group of men who had a history of supporting and looking up to one another. It was such a contrast to the treatment he had grown up with, and Sakura’s concern for Isao’s adjustment to life in the Leaf lightened considerably knowing that this group of ninja would be there for him.

Isao’s small voice carried to her on the wind. “What if no one likes me? What if I am alone?”

And she saw Naruto crouch down in front of him and grab each of his shoulders. “Impossible. But even if they don’t like you, that’s okay. Even if you feel alone in the beginning, friends will find you.”

And Sakura heard Naruto’s reflective laugh before continuing, “And if they don’t come to you, you go to them. Find the person who is also alone, and in them, you’ll have a lifelong friend. My best friend is often still alone, but we find our way back to one another, because we are each other’s closest friend to this day. He needs to be punched occasionally, but he is a good guy.”

Sakura chuckled to herself at that, then revealed her snooping by acting as if she were catching Naruto in a love confession. “Never thought I’d ever hear you admit that aloud.”

And Naruto turned to her, looking as if he had been caught with his pants down. He rubbed the back of his head, “Oh, hey Sakura! Don’t tell Sasuke I said that, ‘kay?”

When Isao finally caught her standing there, Sakura raised her hand and waved, revealing her own jovial smile. The child abandoned the party and sprinted toward her like no child ever had. He clutched her around the middle and Sakura had to summon chakra to her feet just to keep from sprawling on the ground from the force of his hug.

“You’re here!” Isao was mumbling into her side, large tears brimming along his bottom eyelids and Sakura realized suddenly that despite his smiling, this was the moment where he felt safest and was letting all that pent up stress directly fuel that sniffling. Sakura hugged him tightly back, catching Naruto’s giant grin as he walked toward them with his fingers laced behind his head.

“I’m glad to see you well,” Sakura admitted to Isao truthfully, her own emotions beginning to make her throat swell. She did her best to swallow them, coughing out, “How are you enjoying the Leaf so far? Naruto isn’t pushing you too hard, is he? He can be a bit oblivious, so telling him directly is what always works best for the rest of us.” She teased her friend, who grumbled, “not you too, Sakura.” Iruka and Konohamaru were laughing again. Sakura waved at them, too.

“It’s so lively here,” Isao admitted. “It’s a lot to take in. But everyone has been so nice.”

“I was just trying to convince Iruka to take us all out for Ramen since it will be Isao’s first time!” Naruto confessed as he came to stand beside her. He nudged her with his elbow. “But it’s not working. Your treat Sakura?”

Sakura wanted to habitually threaten his life like she had always done as a genin, but found herself sighing and nodding instead. She’d buy Naruto a hundred bowls of ‘Miso Ramen with extra pork!’ just for the kindness he showed Isao in her absence alone, not to mention everything else he had ever done for her. And besides, the last thing she had eaten was a stick of slimy eel fish, so Sakura was beside herself with hunger. At Naruto’s ‘huzzah’, Sakura placed a hand on top of Isao’s head after he let her go and wiped his eyes. “I was just coming to retrieve you for a short health check, but let’s get you some food first.”

Together, the three of them headed for Ichiraku, and Sakura watched with a smile as Naruto explained to Isao what the best ramen order was. Eager to please, Isao did everything Naruto was telling him to do, and Sakura elbowed him sharply. “Let him pick out what he wants.” She grinned innocently when Naruto overdramatized his new pained ribs. But Isao only nodded his eager approval at the food when it finally arrived.

When Isao began to eat enthusiastically, Naruto elbowed her back privately, saying, “Congrats by the way. It was about time that you two—”

And Sakura’s hand found his mouth to silence him as she looked back to her left at Isao to see if the child had heard her obnoxiously loud friend, but Isao played it off as if he hadn’t, turning back to his food and slurping loudly. Perceptive child.

“Geeze, Sakura. I wasn’t going to say that, but that too, huh?” Naruto whispered and grinned cheekily and Sakura dropped her jaw in absolute shock at his bluntness.

“Na-ru-to,” Sakura seethed, steam to compete with the ramen once again coming fresh off the planes of her too-large forehead.

“Alright, sheesh,” Naruto sighed, raising two hands to ward off her temper. “I just wanted to wish my two best friends a lifetime of happiness together.”

“So now I’m your best friend, too? Not twenty minutes ago, you just told Isao that you had only one best friend. Being the third wheel is starting to get old, you know.” She pretended to pout with her chin in her palm.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re much of third wheel anymore, to me.”

And Sakura immediately asked, “What did he tell you?” Because Sakura was trying to fit the information together. Sakura hadn’t told him; she had confirmed it for Kakashi, but Naruto had purposefully been kept in the dark. She took a calming breath because she certainly hadn’t told anyone about how official things seemed to have become just in the last twenty-four hours.

Naruto glanced over her shoulder to catch Isao strategically ordering another bowl of ramen while they talked, and Naruto stopped mid-conversation to say, “Make that two, old man!”

And then lowly, he said, “I’m not as dumb as you two believe me to be. I have eyes, too, sometimes.”

“Emphasis on the sometimes.”

“I’m happy for you two,” he nodded, leaning across her to ask Isao if he had ever had Naruto fishcakes in his ramen, to which Isao had replied that he had never had ramen, which sent Naruto into hysterics. Sakura was near-hysterics herself because talking about her relationship status with Naruto was not on her to-do-list and it took her by complete surprise. She didn’t even know what to say.

“Thanks, Naruto,” she ended up whispering to him, “for everything you’ve done for Sasuke. And for me. You kept your promise, you know. You brought him back.”

“And I always will. You have my word.”

Sakura shook her head. She wouldn’t ever burden Naruto the same way she had as a genin. “No, I’ll never let you make that sort of promise again, Naruto. You have a family now. A baby on the way. I’ll be there for Sasuke now. Keep him in line. That sort of thing.” She grinned as she raised her fist in an illustrative threat.

But, in response, Naruto reached out an arm and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “We can take care of him together. Take shifts, since you’re right. I do have a baby on the way!” It was a celebratory statement, at such a volume that revealed that Naruto had reached his limitations on whispered speech for one evening. “But I’ll trade you night shifts when the baby gets here.”

Sakura laughed at that intrusive picture. An exhausted, dark eyed Naruto showing up on her doorstep with a baby in his arms and handing him to Sakura, while heading toward her room where Sasuke slept, curling up next to the Uchiha as if he were the baby that needed snuggling, except Sasuke was a prickly porcupine who would kick him straight off the bed. Maybe she could rope Kakashi into it somehow and it would be like Team 7 was raising a baby together. Well, when Hinata needed a break, of course. She wasn’t the sort to hog a newborn baby that didn’t belong to her—those sort of people were odd. But helping when asked—Sakura wasn’t bothered by that notion. She thought back to her and Sasuke’s mutual understanding about a delayed family start, if they even got that point. So, if Hinata felt up for sharing, Sakura would spend every night awake with her and Naruto’s sweet child. Unlike Naruto himself, this baby would be surrounded by a family who loved him.

“You’re having a baby?” Isao suddenly chimed in as he leaned across Sakura to talk to her boisterous shinobi friend, no longer pretending not to hear their conversation. “I love babies. I always wanted a brother or sister.”

“Really?” Naruto asked him, “because I’m sure that Hinata and I could use all the help we can get!”

Isao’s face brightened as he smiled at Naruto, and Sakura was suddenly seeing another copy of an adoring Konohamaru in Isao, who was essentially a copy of Naruto. Not to mention the copy yet to be born. This world was going to be full of Narutos, Sakura thought to herself, but she also found herself smiling and admitting that it wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Long after Naruto left them in pursuit of Sasuke, Isao glanced over at her as they walked back toward the hospital. Curiosity getting the better of him, Isao questioned, “His best friend, the one he was talking about… That’s the man you love? The one who was in Sunagakure with you?”

Sakura didn’t know why exactly he was asking, but she nodded, suddenly nervous about Isao’s perception of Sasuke and what her choice in him might mean to the young boy. His father had been cruel to him, his mother lost forever. She felt the weight of her choices in the contextual lens of a young person’s impressionable viewpoint.

But that feeling went away when Isao said, “Why’d you and Naruto breakup? He said something about you two dating in the past—”

Sakura dropped her chin, and her face turned red, “Narutoooo,” she growled. “Don’t believe anything that idiot tells you!”

Isao’s laughter was sharp and bright and Sakura realized that for the first time, she had never heard him truly laugh before until now. As a medic, she knew it was a good sign that came with a change in environment. As someone who cared about the youth, her heart felt such peace.

The August cicada song of Konoha summer evenings was a comforting sound to Sasuke. It was loud, definitely, but not near as loud as the deafening roar of life in Shikkotsu Forest. It was warm and humming, and it was also a sound that Sasuke had once associated with his birthday. Being in Konoha for the first time since May, he realized his birthday must have passed under his nose without his remembering. That’s how it was when one got older, but for Sasuke, he had forgotten his birthday and age altogether the moment his family, the people who celebrated those things with him, were murdered. All dates of celebration were eclipsed in his mind by anniversaries of death. It was probably the same for many shinobi who’d lost their loved ones to a world of war.

After Sasuke had forgotten about his birthday, the cicada sound became attached to new memories other than his birthday. It was the sound of conversations between friends, camping by a fire in the forest, D-rank missions, and competitive sparring. Pairing it with the smell of street vendors and the Konoha evening dinner crowd made Sasuke suddenly overcome with nostalgia.

“Is that everything you need dear?” came the vendor’s question and Sasuke suddenly realized he was spacing.

He nodded, accepting the bag of supplies from the older woman, a face he recognized from his youth, but she didn’t seem to recognize him. Speaking to anyone in Konoha was sometimes nerve-wracking because Sasuke didn’t know if he was going to be receiving a fearful reception or indifferent one.

Sasuke was walking back in the direction of the Uchiha compound when that idiot blonde’s voice became louder than the cicada song. “Yo. You need help with that? Unlike you, I’ve got two arms now.”

Sasuke closed his eyes and scoffed. “Don’t you have anything better to be doing loser? Aren’t you about to be a father? Won’t your wife be angry if she catches you goofing off?”

“Hinata doesn’t get bent out of shape easily. Your wife, on the other hand.” Naruto countered and pointed at Sasuke square in the face when the Uchiha snapped his neck in his direction. Naruto laughed.

After a minute of solid glaring and no denying on Sasuke’s part, Naruto stopped mid-step and dropped his mouth. “Wait just a second! Are you serious? You two are married!?”

Sasuke turned on his heel and continued to make his way into the tree line.

“Why didn’t Sakura tell me that!? And here she was going on about a third-wheel, but you two are leaving me out of the know!”

Sasuke sighed again, not sure if he was relieved or frustrated that Naruto had discovered that secret. Well, maybe. He could still patch it, possibly. If Sakura wasn’t saying anything, then Sasuke sure damn well wasn’t confirming anything. He would let her tell it in her own time. “There’s nothing to tell. So shut up before the entire village hears you.”

“So you’re not? I need to know! Spill!”

“Why do you need to know anything? It’s none of your business.”

His joking voice changed, that quiet solidness it sometimes took on when Naruto was trying to get on Sasuke’s level. “It is my business when you go and threaten the Leaf and shinobi world again.”

Sasuke stopped walking then, turning to Naruto once they were both under tree cover. “Kakashi already gave me the lecture, so you can save your breath.” He sat, unfurling his scrolls and dumping the bags contents on the ground beside them with the purpose of restocking his summoning scrolls.

Naruto leaned against an opposite tree, arms crossed and eyes upward to the treetops. “I know that you don’t mean those things. That you only said it because they allowed Sakura to walk into danger alone. It makes more sense, knowing the scale of what she means to you now.”

Sasuke wanted to correct him. He wanted to tell Naruto that before and after he was consumed in darkness, Sakura had always been important to him. The only difference was that his goal had changed and that he was on the right side, the side that allowed him to admit and develop his attachment to her. Essentially, only after Sasuke had experienced death, that zone of in-between where he could still talk to Naruto and their souls collided, did Sasuke see that whatever goals he had in life, the only way to reach them was with the help of Naruto and the multitude on his side. While being the only one cutout for his solitary role, Sasuke had still tried to keep that distance from Sakura, but because he had believed it to be for her own sake. Not because he didn’t care for her on the same measure as now. Making her his wife didn’t mean he had cared less before. It was just a little different now, because he had finally admitted it to himself, something he had never done before. For both of his friends, Sasuke had denied their bonds to spare himself of the pain of losing them. And there was another factor that altered the situation. If Sakura were targeted because of their marriage and killed because of the Uchiha tie, then yes, Sasuke would avenge her. He would avenge her regardless, but it would be an entire new level of vengeance. A intense and dark sort of retaliation.

Which had Sasuke considering his threat. Despite what Naruto believed, Sasuke had meant every word of it, and even though it scared everyone for him to say those words, it also scared Sasuke. Because he didn’t want to fall, didn’t wantto pitch back into darkness. He had tried to stay far away from the edge of it for the last two years, but falling in love with that pink-haired Kunoichi… it just might make him stagger. Because that’s what love did to an Uchiha and Sasuke was well aware of that. Had faced it very recently with a display of Amaterasu on the prick who had marred Sakura’s skin with her own blood.

However, this time, Sasuke had the confidence that he wouldn’t fall to such depths again. Because of hia closest friend across from him. Because of Naruto. Where Sakura had become a tether to sanity and happiness, Naruto was still the savior when that lifeline snapped. The person who dove after the falling and careened over the edge along with them, and just when you thought their strength would run out and they would let go or fall too, they somehow managed to pull you both back to safety.

“Your promise still stands?” Sasuke asked aloud, glancing up at Naruto through his eyelashes. “To stop me no matter what?”

Naruto held his eyes as he nodded. “Hell yeah. Always.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about. The future remains bright.”

“What are you two going to do now? Are you staying in the Leaf?”

“No,” Sasuke admitted bluntly, resuming the task of sealing each item into his travelling scrolls. “I know my mission. This doesn’t change that.”

Naruto frowned. “Then Sakura.. is she—”

“Staying here. She has her own goals, and her work is essential to the Leaf. She belongs here.”

“We can think of a different plan, Sasuke,” Naruto sighed, a sound that was both frustrated and sorrowful. “We can do this thing together.”

“We are doing it together,” Sasuke countered. “This is the only way to do that. The three of us—we each have a role to play. Think of it like stars and orbits.”

“Hmm,” Naruto hummed, that blank squinting confusion passing his features. “What was that now?”

Sasuke tsked. “Forget it. Should have known it would be too complicated for you to understand.”

Naruto started his fake nod, like he was following, even though he clearly wasn’t. “Something about space, got it. I can be a part of this space thing. Because I’m out of this world. Get it?”

“Definitely spacey,” Sasuke deadpanned, smirking at his own joke that still went over Naruto’s head.

The cicada song in Sasuke’s heart grew louder.

“We need to talk.”

Sakura turned from her work of capsulizing the newly aquired H. Perforatum to find Shikamaru there. She was finishing reviewing the anti-depressant’s trial period and clinical practice schedule with Tsunade, smiling as her old mentor assisted and simultaneously tried to pry the details of her last couple months of travelling with Sasuke. Sakura had been blushing furiously from that last very personal question her mentor had boldly asked just before the door had opened.

Tsunade and Sakura had turned to one another in surprise at Shikamaru’s interruption, and big-eyed, Sakura had answered, “okay?” already nervous about the tone of voice delivering that declarative statement.

“What’s got you worked up, Shikamaru?” Tsunade crossed her arms, before leaning in Sakura’s direction and whispering, “Probably overworked. Shizune used to get cranky, too. Or his ponytail is too tight, either one.”

But Shikamaru ignored the loud whispers, staring only at Sakura. “We need to talk about Sasuke.”

Both the sanin and her pupil got very still at that. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” announced Tsunade immediately, ditching Sakura not because she wasn’t going to be the sort of mentor to take Sakura’s side, but because she was the former Hokage, and Sakura knew that Tsunade had had several uncomfortable conversations about the Uchiha with the rest of Team 7 over the years; Sakura suspected she was either staying out of it completely or she believed the conversation might be a necessary one, whatever it was about.

Sakura caught the unwavering determination in the set of Shikamaru’s shoulders. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and Sakura tried her best not to immediately bristle or react in Sasuke’s defense. She had a strange sense of deja-vu, recalling that time Sai and Shikamaru had come to talk to her about what needed to be done about Sasuke. The Konoha 11 had decided to take it upon themselves to eliminate Sasuke because Naruto’s defense of him was causing strain with the Hidden Cloud. At the time, it was believed to be essential in avoiding a war with the Hidden Cloud. In the end, Sakura had been the one to try to shoulder it alone, and she had failed. And after all this time, here was Shikamaru, approaching her in the same manner he had done back then, and it made Sakura’s stomach turn violently.

“What about him?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against the table.

Shikamaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Naruto didn’t want us to tell you. But considering Sasuke’s past, and the importance of our present peace, I feel you ought to know.”

With every word, Sakura’s heart was sinking until it hit the floor. No. It hit the first level of the building. “What? What happened? Whatever it is, I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

Shikamaru sighed before looking her dead in the face. “Sasuke threatened the Leaf, Sakura. Again. He threatened to personally become Konoha’s—no, the entire shinobi world’s—enemy again.”

Sakura froze and her arms fell from their rigged position and her entire body went numb as those word registered. “When? What are you talking about?”

“Back in Sunagakure,” Shikamaru explained brusquely, not pulling the punch of the truth of it. He gave it to her frankly and quickly. “After you left, the Lord Hokage and the Kazekage denied him permission to follow you. Him and Naruto, both. Because that’s what you had asked.”

“And?” Sakura asked breathlessly, not sure why Sasuke was being singled out if he and Naruto had both reacted how she had expected them to.

“But Sasuke didn’t accept the Hokage’s orders,” Shikamaru continued, like this choice alone was Sasuke’s noose. “Unlike Naruto, he threatened his way out of that room.”

She fell silent, because she didn’t know what to say to that.

“And Kakashi—not just Kakashi—we all knew he meant it. Every one of us. Kakashi let him leave because of that threat.”

“I’ve talked to him,” Sakura rushed out, panic gripping her chest. Her words came out choppy like the floodwaters of that cave she was suddenly remembering. “He promised…Well, I promised. We will take care of him. Naruto and I will stop him if he ever—"

“Will you?” the shadow-wielder asked incredulously. “Will you two always take the fall for him? Will you always live in fear of his derailment? You two will spend the rest of your lives trying to keep him in line. He ran out of second chances this last time; there aren’t any more.”

“He’s not going to need another one, Shikamaru,” Sakura rushed to reassure him. She was remembering her and Sasuke’s conversation in the black abyss of a fire-lit cave just three nights ago. Right after she had just witnessed Sasuke try to de-limb someone, she had confronted him. “I don’t want to become a detriment to you, Sasuke. I don’t want to be what breaks you,” she had said. To which he had responded with: “It’s a part of me. No matter how hard I try to eradicate it, there’s a monster in here. And we both know what he’s capable of. Even now, I don’t feel regret when I should. I have absolutely no desire to apologize for my actions tonight. But that look on your face is the same expression you looked at me all the times I’ve been lost. I don’t want to see that anymore.” Sakura had promised that she and Naruto would not let him become a monster again and he had told her he could choose her because of it.

Sakura sucked in a breath, before adding, “It won’t get that far. The world needs Sasuke if there’s to be a future at all.”

“Let me ask you this then,” Shikamaru questioned without delay. “Do you need him more than the world does? His threats were concerning you, Sakura. Naruto told us you two were together now. And whatever. I don’t really care what you two are. What I do care about, is the ninja world, Konoha, and our current peace. That should be your priority as well, Sakura. If cutting Sasuke off is something that will save all of us, I am begging you on behalf of the world to do so.”

It was dusk by the time Sakura finished helping settle the new group of convicts she had delivered this morning and made her way toward her apartment on the outskirts of town. She didn’t know where Sasuke was, but she imagined he was caught up with Naruto, the two probably knocking each other’s teeth out or something somewhere. They had that annoying habit of having to challenge one another to a duel every time they reunited. And to be quite frank, Sakura needed a few minutes to herself just to think.

She revealed her copy of the apartment key from a hidden jutsu she kept it under when she was away on missions. It materialized into existence on the ground before her, like a stepping stone into a sanctuary.

Everything was exactly how she had left it. Clean, but bearing evidence of her quick departure. Sasuke’s pallet on the sofa was still there as if it had only been yesterday when Sakura had forced him to stay over. Her father’s clothes that he had borrowed were folded neatly and placed on the arm. Leftover—now expired—Onigri in the fridge. Their clean dishes stacked to the left of the sink. It was incredible how the official beginning of them was right before her face, preserved by the time capsule of four private walls. And yet, despite their previous time of residence, the house had returned to the odor of its original making, the familiar scents of fresh tea and herbal concoctions no longer attaching itself to the walls simply because she had vacated and taken them with her. It suddenly reminded Sakura of the fleetingness of life and of the impending departure of Sasuke once more. The evidence of his presence in her life would be there, but suddenly, hewouldn’t. And he would take his scents, his smirking confidence, his ridiculous stoicism with him. It hadn’t even been twelve hours, and Sakura’s heart already ached for him. How was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to accept his leaving again? She couldn’t even bring herself to let him leave, let alone choose to suddenly live without him. Shikamaru had asked her to choose the world. As ridiculous and weak-natured as this self-confession made her, Sasuke was her world. Shikamaru had asked her to make a selfless decision and impossible choice. Shikamaru was asking her to live without her world, so everyone still had theirs to live for. Just as the Konoha 11 had once done years ago.

And Sakura would do it this time, wouldn’t she? That’s what she had told herself the entire walk here. For Konoha, she should. As a Leaf Shinobi, it was her duty to put the village first.

Like a pinprick of light, her eyes found the extra copy of the key on her kitchen counter, the one she had given Sasuke the night she had asked him to come to her as a friend while he was resting in Konoha. The very key he had given back to her, saying no and that he refused the life she offered. It still sat where she had tossed it in dismay several months ago, a cold key that bore no evidence of Sasuke ever holding it. And Sakura suddenly realized that this is what her life would be like, what she had chosen. A home that bore no witness of him being there. It wouldn’t smell like him; it wouldn’t feel like him. It would be hers and he would be a passing star whose light became too far away to even see anymore. And all that was expected of her from everyone else was to not prevent that star from playing its crucial role in the universe. She was to move along on her own orbital path, trying not to prevent their inevitable separation. To be indifferent to their fate.

But Sakura wasn’t indifferent. She would never be able to be indifferent, and she didn’t know why Shikamaru had tried to tell her to be, because everyone knew how selfish she and Naruto were when it came to Sasuke, didn’t they? They would do exactly as Shikamaru had predicted them to. They would spend the rest of their lives clinging to his sanity forhim.

Sakura fretted over Sasuke hours into the night as she held on to that key. On her sofa, with tea brewing as an attempt to make her home feel like its old self, Sakura finally realized that it might never feel like home again. Not after being with him these past few months. And she stood from her sofa, the scream of the tea kettle a perfect depiction of what she was suddenly feeling like on the inside. She had to go and find him. Because every second mattered. They were separating, their orbits spinning away from one another, and she needed every minute left of it. And then a myriad of unwanted thoughts came with this most recent realization: What if he already left? Maybe he was late because he wasn’t coming back. He had brought her back to the Leaf and left the first chance he gotten before she could follow him.

And just before she exited her home in pursuit of the Uchiha once again, she swung open the door to see the man in question raising his hand to knock against the frame. He was shocked for a moment as he unexpectedly came face to face with her, and she stood motionless in the absolute relief of seeing him there. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Then sighed nervously. “I’ll take that key, if it’s still being offered.”

And she almost threw it at him. But she found herself helplessly reaching out for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she began to sob uncontrollably. He stiffened at first at the suddenness of her grasping, confused as to why she was crying to the point of hysteria. He pushed her through the entryway and kicked the door shut behind him, wrapping his arm loosely around her waist as his body thawed of his initial embarrassment. “What happened?” he asked lowly, a worried rumble through his chest and throat. “Why are you suddenly crying?”

Sakura’s words came out through rattled breaths, and she pushed back against the surge of panic with an explanation. “I thought—” inhale, “thought y—you’d—” inhale, exhale, inhale, “left.” She cried some more, before attempting to say, “I thought you must have left again.”

He got still. “I promised not to do that anymore, remember?” he automatically reassured her. “We both did. I said I’d find you later, so you’d have no doubt.”

“Yeah,” she found herself exhaling, slowly counting in her mind the way she had taught small children to when they were upset. The tea kettle continued to squeal, and it was deafening, but so was her own thoughts. She clung to him and wouldn’t let go until he led her to the sofa. He walked over to remove the kettle, and like the metaphor to her internal frenzy, the kettle began to quiet as a direct result of his mediation.

“This is yours.” She reached out her hand to drop the key into his single palm when he came to stand before her once more. “It always has been. Even before you wanted it.” She stared down as he took it from her hands, and she didn’t see what he did with it, but heard the rustle of his clothing as he tucked it away somewhere.

His silence felt unsure, and Sakura knew his mind was probably spiraling, afraid he would say something else to set her off. And so Sakura whispered, “It’s not much of a home and it’s small, but when you’re here, it can be yours, too.”

He nodded, attempting to ease her concerns about their mutual habitation needs by saying. “I won’t be in your way. You can live wherever you like.”

She began to cry again at that, and Sakura could tell by his stricken face that he suddenly realized it had been the wrong thing to say after all. It broke his hesitancy, and he reached his palm forward and ran his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone, wiping the tears there. “Don’t cry. I’m saying that you will be home to me.”

She nodded, trying to calm herself, which his soothing gesture was helping immensely. She leaned into it, hoping he never moved it away. Sakura was comforted immensely at the thought of being Sasuke’s home to return to, even if Sakura spent a lifetime waiting for her home to return to her. “I’m sorry. I’m always crying.”

“And I’m the one always making you, it seems like.” He confessed with a frown. “I hate that.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just been a day.”

Sasuke didn’t respond to that, so Sakura asked the next looming question on her mind, “When are you leaving?”

He sucked in a breath, not quite ready to tell her, but then exhaled. “Tomorrow. In the morning.”

Already? She wanted to cry again. Her tears rushed to her eyes the longer he refused to clarify, modify, or ask her to come with him. “So that was it, then? Our time together has stopped?”

“I’m going to continue to find the leader of the organization who is after you. I’ll find him first before I continue to pursue the Otsusuki. There’s not much more time to delay. We’ve delivered the rest of them to Kakashi. I must continue on, now.”

“I can help you,” she tried, knowing he would deny her anyway. “I can help you with the Zenshin leader and make more chakra pills for you when you run out.”

He was looking down between them, at the careful space kept between them on the auburn-colored sofa. “After what you’ve recently done, you deserve to rest. You’ll be safe here, and I’ll have peace knowing that, while I do the mission only I can do.”

She wasn’t ready to give this topic up. She argued anyway, Shikamaru’s voice like a ticking clock in the back of her mind as she approached the discussion she needed to have with him yet again. “What if they come for me here? While you’re away, Mozai could come. It would be his next logical step.”

“He wouldn’t come here and risk having to deal with Kakashi and Nar—"

She pushed on. “What if they find and kill me? What are you going to do if that happens, Sasuke?”

He got very still as those words registered, not because he was angry at the idea of it or fearful of it becoming true. He froze with a staring sourness of narrowed eyes, because he had caught on to the direction of her conversation. She suddenly knew that Sasuke had just learned that she was told about his choice words of a threat back in Sunagakure.

She steeled herself at that stare, swallowing back the discomfort of the confrontation. “Are you going to avenge me? Are you going to become an enemy of the world again if someone else is taken from you?”

Sasuke stood from the couch at her words, turning his back on her in the darkness of the room. “I’m getting really tired of this conversation,” he retorted scornfully. “I have already had it twice today.”

“So it’s true,” she laughed mirthlessly, standing up along with him as she stared at his bowed head and bent shoulders. “You really said that? Why? You never would have said something like that as far as I was concerned in the past. You’ve risked everything you have worked toward over the last two years by doing that!”

He had started to walk away from her as she spoke, every word stiffening his posture. His only response was, “Who told you what I said? Was it Naruto? Kakashi?”

Sakura ignored his redirection, because she had to say this. She had to do this so when the time came for her to be accountable for her own actions in the world, Sakura could use this conversation as an excuse for why she couldn’t do more than this. She continued. “Why did you say that? Why go to that extent because I went on a mission of my ownvolition? In the past, I was always the ‘annoying’ person who was in your way, and now you’ve made me a liability to the world?”

“You’re being annoying right now,” he droned, using that tone of voice that always made her body fill with ice. Instead of the playful connotation of that word, it now reminded her of all the times he had chastised her and been cruel on purpose. It still hurt when he used it that way. He sighed and turned to face her then at her silence, and Sakura could see the small regret of those words. So he clarified. “You’re my wife. I’m allowed to say that I will avenge you, and I’ll make sure the world knows that I will.”

“We had made no vows when you said that. We weren’t serious yet—"

He was getting angrier every time she tried to speak. It caused him to spill secrets he had kept for a long time, words that would heal Sakura’s pain from the past and sustain her like fodder throughout her future of loneliness. “I knew where it was headed. I’ve known for a long time. Since before I left the Leaf, I knew what you would become to me. It’s why I said and did those things to you. To keep you away from me. You were supposed to hate me so this would never happen. I would have avenged you when we were genin together on Team 7, maybe even after at some points. And I would do so now. As I would for Naruto, or Kakashi even.”

After a moment, more tears streamed down her face, because Sasuke didn’t know the gravity of what he just confessed. She still hadn’t gotten to the hard part, because Sakura had been asked to do everything she could to protect the world, but she just couldn’t give Sasuke up. Her and Naruto both; he would be their weakness for life. So, she had to do the next extreme, and very gutsy thing she could think of. “I need you to add it to your vow to me. Right now. That you neverwill. If I am killed tomorrow—or Naruto, or Kakashi—you’ll never choose revenge again. You told me that night that the world will not pay for us loving one another.”

Sasuke laughed, scornfully. Like she had just said something funny, and Sakura had never seen him laugh except for when he was wrapped in darkness. He laughed again in utter exhaustion, rubbing his palm down across his face. Maybe it was the trauma of the past coming back to haunt her, but it made her blood run cold at the familiarity.

In a flash of panicked anger, Sakura pulled out her kunai and angled it toward her heart. There was a sound of metal, and Sasuke’s laughter died immediately at the sight of it, and a still rage filled his eyes as they widened at her actions. She wasn’t swayed by that wrath, and when he instantly made to make an interfering step toward her, she drew it closer to her chest, stilling him straightaway.

“Now you’re the one making stupid threats, Sakura.” He sneered lowly and she could see the flash of his red Sharingan. She was going to run out of time to make this stupid bluff of a facade count. It was an extreme thing to do maybe, but she couldn’t think of another way to get him to see what he had done by putting her in a position of choosing him or choosing Konoha. “Shikamaru said I needed to cut ties with you,” she explained. “That being with you was a risk. But I can’t do that because I am selfish. What I should do is end myself now for the sake of the village, because my life is not worth the risk you pose to the world. That’s what you will be asking me to do if you continue using my life as the rationale for your recent behavior. If you keep making threats like this, then it will be the only thing I can do to save it.”

“That bastard didn’t tell you everything I said,” he hissed, furiously, a quiet sound that still jarred her nerves just as much as the screeching tea kettle had. “I also said that I wouldn’t survive it. I said the world would just as likely fall to the Otsusuki in my absence. And that’s the truth. You dying will make a shell out of me, if not outright kill me, too.”

Her hand lowered at those words, and the Uchiha saw it with his Sharingan, and the next thing Sakura knew, she was no longer holding that kunai as it was transported places with the handle of that still-hot tea kettle. The metal singed her skin as it swung in the air and she winced before dropping it. Sasuke rushed forward and caught the handle himself before it could hit the ground, and he glared at her as he placed it on the table before the sofa.

“Cheap trick,” she chided, as he came very close to stand before her. He held her eyes with red and purple irises. She didn’t look away.

“Don’t you ever do that again, even to make a point. If you don’t want to be with me because you choose the world, fine. None of your choices change what we are to one another.” Every word was sharp and stony. “It’s a hard lesson to learn, believe me, but you would have to erase our past. I tried that. And you fought to make me remember. All of you did. So now you have to live with that choice.”

“Tell me what do,” Sakura pleaded. “Tell me how I can love you and still protect the world from you.”

“You just have to live. Because of you, I will continue. I will find the Otsusuki race and eliminate them as a threat so that I can return to you, just like I promised. And if someone ever dared to touch you, they would die for it, and Naruto would prevent it from going beyond that. And if Naruto dies, it will be you who I have to cling to. You all just have to accept that.”

“I can’t stop you, Sasuke. And I can’t kill you. I’ll never be able to kill you. Even after you tried to kill me, yourself, I couldn’t follow through. I’ll never be able to stop you from another path of destruction because, like I said, I’m selfish. Despite what Shikamaru said, I can’t choose the world over you. My choice will always be you. Just as it was the day you left me the first time. I’d even go as far as to help you with revenge. As always, I’m pitiful. I’m hopeless. I’m in love with you. I love you more than the world. What kind of ninja does that make me? It makes me a traitor.”

His irritation faded as she confessed this long stream of thoughts to him. He reached forward and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her the rest of the way to him. “No. It makes you an Uchiha.”

More tears fell down her cheeks as he pulled her mouth the rest of the way to his. And he was pushing her toward the couch. Down onto the surface of it as he claimed her mouth with his. And it was a frantic exploration with his tongue, a touching that was high with the intoxication of tormenting truths, threats, and confessions. A type of kissing that came after you thought you might never get to do so again. In a way, he made it bruising and punishing, for having even dared to do what she had.

He pressed her body deep into the couch as he straddled her waist and Sakura reached up and desperately clung to the collar of his shirt. He leaned over her, fist tangled in her hair as he pulled her head flush against the headrest of the sofa to reveal her throat. Sakura’s skin prickled at the roughness.

“I told you there would be no going back for us,” he breathed against her jawline, sending gooseflesh into the scalp of her head and along her arms. “It’s too late, remember? We get to choose each other, and I’ll even vow to you that the world will not pay for this. I have already chosen the world for all of us. You get to choose me and not live with the guilt of it. I won’t become who I used to be. Because I don’t want to see you look at me like that.”

She nodded before his mouth found hers again. It was hot, sweltering, fueled with the fire-nature of his chakra. He meant to burn her up, completely. So that when he had to leave tomorrow morning, she could still feel the heat of him. She would allow herself to be burned from his heat because then at least something would remain of him.

He pushed her clothing down around her, pulling the shirt up and over her head between kisses, demanding the attention of her mouth. In the next instant, he was pulling something from his cloak. A red bundle the size of his fist. Still straddling her lap, he unfurled it in front of her face. An Uchiha crest, front and center on the backside of a perfect rendition of the shirt she had just been wearing, hung before her like a territorial flag. She outright gasped.

“For a second, you had me thinking you were done with me, and I wasn’t going to get to give this to you,” he sighed between labored panting, his heart still beating loudly from their heated proximity. “I had it made today. You’ll wear it in my stead, won’t you?”

Sakura’s face hurt at this point from crying so much, and she was sure it was splotchy and red, but it didn’t stop her from crying more. She nodded through tears and Sasuke showed her his rare, sporadic smile. She slipped it over her head and he stood, pulling her with him and spinning her so he could see it on her. She blushed at the scrutiny, looking down and tucking her hair behind her ear. Her shyness melted away when he abandoned his own, tilting her chin up to claim her mouth once more.

“You’re now the only Uchiha woman in this world,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve never seen someone look as beautiful as you do right now. Wearing that.”

Okay, maybe her bashfulness hadn’t completely vanished, because she was blushing furiously after he said that. And with it, she experienced a sudden moment of disassociation. Could this even be real? Just moments ago, she was dramatically threatening her own life, and now she didn’t care about anything else other than simply just living for him. To have more of him. Every second, even in madness, she would take it all. Because she was selfish. Because she didn’t care about anything else and never had.

But his hot mouth on hers grounded her. He was real and she could have him. And she could look Shikamaru confidently in his face from now on, regardless of her choice, because he, too, was a star locked in his own orbit of destiny, but Sasuke was the sun of her life and meant to burn her. And he did.

The steam of herbal tea intensified that heat, searing the press of him, the feel of him, his mouth on hers into the memory of ‘home,’ and it lingered long into the blissful after. And at some point during their kissing, Sasuke reached above her head to crack open the window behind her, letting in the nighttime fading sound of hot summer cicadas and crickets. “I want to hear them. I want to remember this when I hear them.”

She felt for him, pulling his shirt away from his muscular back, and he felt feverish, but they both knew he wasn’t sick. Just intoxicated with adrenaline and need. Sasuke continued to push her down into the very couch where she had been sitting in despair moments ago, and when he became parallel with her own body, reaching into her waistband, she hooked her leg up and over his hip so he could reach exactly where he was aiming.

Before things escalated further and they lost themselves to the mindlessness of burning a second time, Sakura pulled back and reached into her pocket, revealing a tiny vial of citrine tinted liquid sloshing from the movements of its revelation. “Take this. So that there’s no uncertainty,” Sakura explained. “Tsunade helped me make it today. Its common here for men to take a contraceptive, as well. We’ll both be covered.” His euphoric expression of concentration turned into a frown as he met her eyes in understanding. He looked at it and then looked at her.

. . .

Sasuke held that concoction with pure hatred. Shikamaru and Naruto, both, could take a damn hike and take their holier-than-thou lectures elsewhere. Because they got to stay in the Leaf and fuck their women, plant themselves with abandon in order to take root in the woman of their dreams and watch their children grow inside of them. Sasuke didn’t get to do that. He got a few moments of blissful ecstasy with years to divide them, and watch their families grow like mocking gardens of happiness while he dragged Sakura into the deep dark earth of a baren family tree. She would be the only branch of his dying lineage unless he could complete his goal, first.

Which is why he had to leave tomorrow, so he could come back to her free of conflicting obligation.

Their eyes held one another’s as he pulled the stopper. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, swallowing that putrid mixture of protection that was simultaneously a death sentence of a future disguised as responsibility. It was a choice he had to make for the both of them, and it killed him to do it. But he told himself that Sakura was enough for now. Stars and orbits. Stars and orbits. Stars and orbits.

Sasuke didn’t have time to evaluate the effects of such a potion, to see if it dulled his need, because his wife was now rising from the sofa and sinking on to the floor. And those knees hit the ground and he realized what she was planning to do as she tried to rotate his body in the direction of her face. Oh hell no. Not like that.

“Get up,” he instructed.

“I want to,” she confessed, thinking he was stumbling over his own nervousness as she had done back in the cave. He most certainly was not.

“No,” he said in finality, pulling at her. “Get off your knees. Uchiha women don’t get on their knees for anyone. Not even their husbands.”

Her eyes widened at that statement, and she allowed him to pull her from the floor. “How would you even know that?”

And Sasuke specifically remembered his father snatching his mother’s cleaning rag from her as she stooped on the ground to clean the dirt that had been tracked in. “Get up,” he had told her as he took the chore over himself. “You have two sons who are more than capable of doing that. I better never see you on your knees again.” When it had happened, Sasuke had been shocked by the angry reproach from his father, but his mother had only laughed and walked out of the room brightly. Sasuke hadn’t understood such context at the time—well, other than the fact that whatever had just happened meant he would soon be having to scrub floors. But he understood now, in this moment, what his father had been doing. And even if the situation had some sort of different context he wouldn’t ever have answers to, he suddenly knew that it was going to be a rule in his relationship from now on. Because he would set the precedent. He was the only one left to make those rules.

He didn’t explain it to her in that moment, because time did not allow for it. Instead, he copied his father’s tone to the best of his ability. “Just stay off your knees.”

He was really leaving tomorrow. He was going to be walking away from this again. That’s what Sasuke was thinking as he captured her mouth. Sasuke was selfish and despite what he had told her moments ago, he wanted to ask her to come with him on his mission. He held his tongue, because then she wouldn’t be safe in Konoha anymore. She would be sacrificing her own dream and her own work here. But as their bodies found home in one another, Sasuke lost his will to hold back that request. He had changed his mind. She could come. He would let her come with him. Stay beside him for the whole of it if she didn’t care to sacrifice her own important work here in the Leaf. He could take her up on her promise from all those years ago, because he couldn’t stay, but maybe, just maybe he could take her with him.

Sakura let out a surprised yelp when their bodies dematerialized and reappeared on her (their?) bed. A new array of scents greeted him with the change, and this room felt sacred. Because it was where she had slept every night for the last several years without him. The bedding emitted the very essence of her sweet fragrance, as if it were the concentration of all things her. This bed had just become the ribcage of his new home, where the beating heart of it would sleep waiting for his return.

When he had replaced the two of them on the couch with the pillows of her bed, Sasuke had flipped her onto her stomach. He wanted to see the Uchiha crest. He wanted to truly be with her as she wore that symbol of his.

They came back together, and Sasuke voiced what he had once wanted to say to her back then and what he wanted to say now. “Come with me.”

In the heat of things, she didn’t catch the true meaning of his words, interpreting it for its double entendre.

“No,” he clarified, when they lay next to one another and panted shallowly. “Come with me. I am asking you to come with me.”

“What?” she asked, her head shooting up and she raised onto her elbows to look at him. “You’re asking me to come on your mission with you?” Were those more tears? He hated seeing her cry.

“Yes. Come with me, Sakura.” It wasn’t time for their orbits to separate yet. Maybe they could hold on just a little longer.

#ssfanfiction #approachingsun #approaching sun #sasusaku

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3416 · 2 months ago

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I really love equally 16-34-88.

It’s interesting the interchanging of the attitude of the fans and media towards William and Mitch.

For years, William was criticized over and over again. His relaxed and laid back attitude. His game. And his contract year back in 2018, he was in those trenches. And anyone who said anything positive about him was called crazy. And also, Don Cherry and his low key like discriminatory remarks due to the fact that he was Swedish and not the tough goon kind of playing style. He was also kind of the « guinea pig » (always changing line mates, and lines—and last year we saw that too, he’s always moving and they always throw new stuff) and he was , out of the core, the punching bag.

Now, Mitchy has always been criticized because of the toxic hyper masculine mindset of many hockey fans: he’s boyish and not buff and tough and all that jazz. But, he never got the hate and disrespect that he is getting at the end of last season and right now. He was however still well liked and respected and was often associated to Auston and scene in a more favorable light. He was second to Auston in the « it » boy factor. If this NHL documentary was made 2-3 years ago, Mitch would have been considered.

If you would have told that the Toronto fans and media would be all over William two seasons ago, I would have laughed. Like never would I have thought that I would see the day where people would actually give him credit and actually respect him and see the great things he adds. I love seeing that , but at what cost? For Mitch to become the punching bag of the team?

Fans are now saying how amazing Willy is and now figuring out that he is a good player and cool. But those same fans, a couple years ago were dragging him through the mud saying how useless he was and how he needed to get traded. And they liked Mitch. And they respected him. But now, you’ve « always hated Mitch Marner », « He should be traded ».

And I fear that it will always be this: once Mitch will be in the public’s good graces, something with William will happen and back to Mitch. It’s always been like this and will always stay this way. I don’t know why, I guess that’s the dynamic the city chose.

Even when it came to the core’s contracts: Willy and Mitchy always get this EXTRA je ne sais quoi. Like this extra negative energy and they can never satisfy anyone. They are greedy weaklings or whatever.

Also, I was thinking about Auston captaincy and it reminded me about how he was heavily considered in 2019 but the whole allegations and the story about him harassing this woman when he was drunk ruined that chance. And, people did criticize him and he got scrutinized. But, it kind of, I think, it fizzled away pretty quickly within the Toronto scene considering how heavy that story was. It doesn’t haunt him.

Now, if it was Mitch or William, people would bring it up and it would tarnish them way more. They could not escape it.

Sorry for the long ass rant, it’s just so funny and frustrating: if one gains recognition, the other one has to go down.

gonna start out by saying i don't think mitch/auston/other ppl weren't asked about the doc. i think they're way more private esp in a time that was gearing up for the playoffs, lol. and i think anyone with a brain right now knows mitch is still the second best player on the leafs. everyone just gets high off point totals alone from the prior seasons.. like i seriously saw ppl claiming matthew tkachuk would be drafted higher than auston after the 22-23 season, lolll.

i agree there's a divide about them in the coverage and i have a lot of thoughts of my own about this too. i'm not a longterm leafs fan beyond the past couple of years so i can't speak to how willy or mitch were treated before 2022 beyond old headlines/stuff i've seen but not lived through, but i've definitely been here for the shift about mitch lately and well...

i think some of it is by virtue of them playing the same position. everyone 'has an issue' with the core 4 (ive never understood who the fuck the core 4 even refers to.. sometimes its about the forwards, sometimes its about the leadership group flkdjsklf... whatever fits the current narrative ig) being all forwards and taking up the cap bc that's not 'proven', but it's such a bullshit excuse. i think if you look at their contract situations of the past, willy did a lot of things mitch is getting shit for now, lol. he did hold out into the season for money while mitch gets lambasted for using that as a negotiation tactic (which again.. i wasnt around for those negotiations and i get it was ugly to ... leak or use public perception or whatever but) on those first contracts. willy's father was also involved in his holding out in the most recent negotiations but that's not smth i see thrown around at him despite every comment under every post about mitch including paul's name without him so much as uttering the word contract, lol. it's frustrating to me to see the double standards at this point. i understand longtime fans have lived through shit about willy, but i have a hard time imagining the vitriol levels of right now being topped. it's just every single day about every single thing compounded by the fact that leafs fans have even less hope than they used to bc of how many years in a row they've lost.

i admittedly don't love them equally at all, and if anything, the fanfare about willy the past year has made me like him less. it's not really his fault but i do think he's slightly overpaid now (and watching ppl now claim mitch has to take willys deal or less is hilarious) and overhyped for what he actually brings. his playoff stats are being overrated too. since it all comes at a cost to mitch in the media, it's been way worse to watch for me and unavoidable that i come away feeling negative about him, lol.

i'd be interested to see if the tides ever do turn back toward willy now that he's bulked up, grown facial hair, proven he can score with an up-to-this-point useless clutchness. i doubt they will, but i have a hard time envisioning what's gonna happen after mitch signs an extension and who will become the scapegoat w players locked up for more years. the constant hate has to get exhausting at some point, right? like jflkjdsklf... but not with leaf fans so who knows what will happen. i can't really say what would have happened if mitch or willy were ever involved in scandal like that, but i think if it happened right now, ppl would be ready to forgive willy for anything and sentence mitch to death over nothing so. some people were blaming him for his own carjacking when it happened like.. lol. i can't see into the future but all i know is i'm VERY fed up with the way coverage and reaction is right now. and i don't even think the media is an accurate depiction of how a lot of fans feel about any of it, but if it's hammered home enough... idk.

#easks #sorry this isnt a hate post but a more.. fed up post klfdj #its funny to read all the things ppl think abt mitch when like they actually apply to willy in some ways #but for some reason we're pivoting back to aloof n chill being the cool thing to be fkld #and caring being overrated.. even tho the leafs tagline is passion? but not like that !#still think mitchs game is vastly more mature versatile and consistent #saw someone call willy a 2 way superstar to start the summer and im like. oh so we are just saying anything now lol #i think ppl are bad at evaluating beyond just points lol #saying last yr was consistent for him when he put up 4 points in the last month of play is simply a lie. he was inconsistent but productive #more than hes ever been. and yet still didnt play great defensively #acting like he for some reason has a higher ceiling now bc he ? has still never had a season as good as mitch despite being a year older is #so incredibly funny to me #i get that this is all very reactionary to the leafs mediascape rn but i cant help it bro #its absurd imo when mitch ended up w a higher ppg than willy by the end of the season #sorry again. no hate to him just like. the overcorrection n overhype is absurd #the constant comparison is absurd too i agree but its baked into the toronto experience apparently #also part of the reason i love that theyre trying him at center lol. like fjklds gonna make him worth the 11.5 #and also maybe cease the winger comparisons . n get him to buy into paying more attention defensively #anhway... JIFNKDMLS good night.

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strixcattus · 10 months ago

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Conlang Year Days 22 & 23

Had a productive time coming up with proto-forms for flora and fauna terms (especially fauna, there's like fifteen of them), and since my principles for what gets a proto-form were basically the same for both, these two days get their own post.

If you're time-travelling—especially if you're crossing large distances—having a basic word for a particular species of animal or plant is deeply useless. Let's say you have a word for "crow." If you're hanging around in our present day, that's all well and good. If you go back in time far enough, before crows evolved, it's a completely pointless word. If you go forward in time far enough, to the ages after the collapse of human civilization and the rise of corvid sapience, you might be able to keep using that word, but it's not exactly ideal for what you're dealing with.

And what if you veer off into a completely different timeline? What if you end up somewhere where reptiles occupy most of the niches mammals fulfill in our world, and you're hanging out with the lizardfolk learning to take care of their giant lizard cattle and how to avoid the four-foot-tall crocodilians that hunt in packs? Where are your words now?

No, time travellers don't need or want a word for "crow." They need words that encompass three things:

What does it look like and/or do, generally? Is this a tall plant, or is it more of a shrub? Is this a big animal, or is it too small to pay much mind to? Does it fly or swim?

Is it going to kill me? If so, how?

Can I eat it?

Day 22: Flora

There are a couple kinds of "flora" particular to time travellers. Aside from those, basic roots for plants and plant parts say nothing whatsoever about the specific kind of plant, painting them in more general terms.

*sali: Translates as "grass" generally, but it encompasses all small, ground-covering flora—grass, moss, lichen, even small flowers. *nene: Fruit, seeds, nuts, and root vegetables. Essentially, any plant part that can be eaten safely and which isn't a leaf or flower. *kota: The opposite of *nene. All plants and plant parts that are poisonous. *jumini: Trees and other tall plants *pida: Leafy, low plants *jilu: Flowers (or other colorful markers a plant may have) *zaso: Leaves or similar (conifer needles, for instance) *maju: "Lichen" in translation, a kind of flora that is usually imperceptible within a timeline but which can cause major alterations in the events or physics of a timeline *zomo: Timeline Rot

Day 23: Fauna

I'm under no illusion that these two lists are complete. I added three proto-forms to this one while writing up this post. Still, I feel I've covered most anything that I'll need, and if I do end up creating some more forms, I can add them to the final proto-forms post, which... I haven't been closely looking at the preview of each week's prompts, but it seems that'll be in a couple days.

You'll notice that several of these forms are grouped by the general shape of the creature, differentiated by how dangerous the animal in question is—or why it's dangerous.

*kaja: Bird of prey (a note: "bird" does not necessarily mean "bird and bird alone." Anything that flies and is larger than the average insect might end up under one of these first three categories.) *denede: Small bird, like a songbird, for instance *date: Gamebird or large bird in general *jopo: Pest of humans (like an insect which drinks blood) *suti: Pest of food (like a mouse which sneaks into grain stores or a squirrel which attacks garden produce) *zitu: Pest of plants or structures (like a larva which bores into trees, an insect which eats the leaves of crops, or a woodpecker which has decided to set up shop on the side of your house) *kuna: Harmless small invertebrate (pay it no mind) *napa: Large carnivore (might eat you) *kalopo: Large herbivore (might be good food for a group) *mika: Small nonvenomous animal (might be good food for one person) *najato: Small venomous animal (proceed with caution) *kolo: Poisonous animal (never mind, this one isn't food) *dopu: Aquatic animal *poju: Harmless microbe (the average time traveller understands germ theory) *tino: Harmful microbe (and appreciates having a basic word for the things that cause disease) *medu: Outsider (anything that typically doesn't enter into linear time, except for:) *pekule: Time Worm (there it is) *siza: Humanoid (that's you! And pretty much anyone you'll ever talk to!)

#conlang #conlang year #time travel conlang #lecizao

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ecargmura · 1 year ago

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Pokemon Horizons Episode 25 Review - The Grand Finale Of The First Chapter

Wow, they went all out for the grand finale of the first chapter. Everything’s so action-packed, fast-paced and there are some satisfactory conclusions mixed in as well. Nothing feels too rushed and the build up for future events is present as well. I cannot decide which episode of the Liko and Roy’s Departure chapter was the best, but I cannot deny that this episode was amazing.

Right from the get-go, everyone’s moving around and battling. Friede gets a battle. Liko and Roy gets a battle. Sango and Onyx gets some spotlight. I can’t believe OLM actually had guts to be able to fit everything into one episode without the need to gloss over important detail like what they did with Episode 23. The Friede vs. Amethio battle finally got a conclusion after four rounds of teasing around. Friede was basically holding back all this time because he’s clearly a very strong and strategic battler. He looked as if he was going to lose to Amethio, but decides to use Terastalizing to essentially get the type advantage and beat Amethio since Ceruledge is part Ghost-type. It’s weird how Terastal can be used in Galar, but I think Terapagos might be the biggest reason for that.

Speaking of battles, Liko and Roy battle Amethio’s goons once again and Liko finally gets an on-screen win against Onia; man, she should’ve gotten that on-screen win back in Episode 5—THAT WAS TWENTY EPISODES AGO. It’s too bad that they could only knock out Golduck as the battle against Zirc’s Rhydon was postponed due to Sango and Onyx’s arrival. Had they stayed a bit longer, Roy could’ve gotten his first win against Zirc too. Oh well, at least the kids are finally improving. Also, I’m surprised that Liko knows how to use a Pokeball as she finally returned Hatenna back to her Pokeball four episodes after her capture.

Sango and Onyx are very formidable enemies. They were not clowning around at all, despite them getting beaten by Captain Pikachu of all Pokemon. Cap shows that even if Friede isn’t with him, he can still move around independently, as shown back in Episode 22 and now this episode. Onyx shows that he does not seem to care about the safety of wild Pokemon as his Garganacl’s Salt Cure had gotten to them; his Garganacl is also the first Pokemon to use Wide Guard in the anime. In contrast to Sango, Onyx is very composed and only lashed out at her when she was getting reckless. On the other hand, Sango is a gremlin. She can be very impatient and hot-tempered. The faces she make easily stole the show, especially since she was yelling at Captain Pikachu—they share the same voice actress, so it’s basically Ikue Otani screaming at herself. The fact that she makes her Glalie use Self-Destruct was clearly something I wasn’t expecting and I commend the writers for being a bit creative with the move choices for the villains’ Pokemon.

Other than the amazing action scenes, world building is also implemented here as Diana reveals three important things in this episode:

She is shown to have Lucius’s diary and an ancient belt in her possession, most likely belonging to Lucius.

She reveals that the Explorers were once Lucius’s companions, meaning he had human companions during his travels. If Terapagos was angry at Amethio, that means the Explorers had betrayed him or they turned over a bad leaf later on? This really intrigues me.

She reveals the identities of the remaining Hero Pokemon. Lucius companions are: the black Rayquaza, Arboliva, Galarian Moltres, Lapras, Kleavor, and Entei. These are very interesting choices, especially Kleavor. How will Kleavor and Hisuian Pokemon be implemented into the story? Will they implement what the Teal Mask DLC introduced to the universe and have it so that the Hisuian Pokemon aren’t extinct but off in distant lands to preserve their species? I’m very curious to see how the last three Hero Pokemon will be introduced and which regions it will take place in.

The way everything played out here really makes me hyped for the next chapter in the Rising Volt Tacklers’ adventure. I want to unravel these mysteries as much as they do! I’m super excited for what future episodes will show! What are your thoughts to the grande finale of the first chapter?

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satoshi-mochida · 8 months ago

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Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door for Switch launches May 23 - Gematsu

From Gematsu

Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door will launch for Switch on May 23, Nintendo announced.

The turn-based RPG first launched for GameCube on July 22, 2004 in Japan, followed by October 11, 2004 in North America and November 12, 2004 in Europe.

The Switch version adds revamped graphics and “a suite” of additional changes that make the game easier to enjoy.

Here is an overview of the game, via Nintendo.com:

Join Mario on an Epic Paper-adventure to Collect the Crystal Stars Before the X-nauts Do!

The nefarious X-Nauts are after the treasure behind the Thousand-Year Door! With a map from Princess Peach, and the help of a few locals, Mario journeys through a colorful world made of paper to find them first. To prevail in this quest, you’ll have to level up Mario and his friends, master timing-based attacks and badges to impress the audience on the stage of combat, and make use of all the abilities that come with being cursed—er, conveniently made of paper—like folding into a plane to cross big gaps or turning sideways to slip through narrow openings.

Leaf Through a Storybook World With Charming Characters in Every Fold

Surprises abound in this deep and engaging tale, where everyone’s got something to say and it’s often not what you’d expect. Mario will meet all kinds of interesting folks on his journey, like the upbeat and studious Goombella and the shy but determined Koops. Some of these characters will need your help with their own quests, or even join your party. Others, like Peach and Bowser, have stories of their own that you’ll play between Mario’s chapters!

A Classic Turns the Page, Bringing Fresh Visuals and Updated Features

Twenty years after the original game on the Nintendo GameCube system, this version for the Nintendo Switch system has revamped graphics, and a suite of additional changes that make the game easier than ever to enjoy.

Watch the MAR10 Day 2024 announcement video below.

MAR10 Day 2024

English

youtube

Japanese

youtube

#Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door #Paper Mario #Super Mario Bros.#Nintendo #Nintendo Switch #RPG #Gematsu #Youtube

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elementclangen · 1 month ago

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Moon 311-Leaf-bare

ElementClan is feeling the tension with the other Clans. Burdockbeam (27) knows that, if there’s a battle, it’ll be her first chance to show that she’s a skilled fighter. However, she ends up training too hard with Hollowpaw (12) and sprains her paw. Meanwhile, Dawnstar (95) decides that one of the apprentices is ready for her warrior name. He gives Mitepaw (12) the name of Mitemask, in honor of her enthusiasm. He has to call her name a couple of times though before she pays attention. She’s too busy watching a fluttering leaf that seems to vanish before her eyes. Cavecatcher (69) is proud of Mitemask. He’s also one of the Clan’s most experienced warriors and Croucheye (22) is impressed with how well he fights. Kestrelcreek (100) is also proud of Mitemask and is starting to recover from losing her mates. She enjoys spending time with Nettlestripe (80) and discussing Clan news with him. Nettlestripe also complains that Hollowpaw never does anything helpful. While Kestrelcreek is a little offended at his criticism of her son, she does understand it. He always seems to be getting into trouble. Mitemask seems a little jumpy lately and keeps startling at things no one else can see while on a patrol. Despite him being completely unhelpful in raising their kits, Bluestripe (86) still loves Tanglechirp (58). She purrs for a long time at one of his dad jokes. Their kits definitely have differing personalities though. Where Aphidpaw (8) is a little annoying with how much the older cats in the Clan seem to like her, Dapplepaw (8) is much more reserved. She is surprised when Aries (77) spends some time with her instead of her sister and thanks her earnestly when she grooms a hard to reach spot for her. Pebbletuft (44) and Bumble (88) are struggling to get along without Lakepelt there. Pebbletuft is frustrated with the way the senior medicine cat does things and gets in a fight with him. Peatfeather (23) and Embershell (29) have a bit of a history of not getting along. They have one good day but then Embershell messes it up by mentioning that she feels like the kits in camp are annoying. Peatfeather quite likes them. Pebbletuft also senses war on the horizon (or maybe she’s excited for it) and talks with Dawnstar and Bluestripe about how the Clan could utilize their dark-cursed members to fight. Minnowkit (3) and Flailkit (3) are proving to be closer to each other than they are their other siblings. Minnowkit is worried about being an apprentice because she’s afraid of disappointing the Clan. Flailkit is listening to her, but jumps when he hears a croaking frog, creating a big wave that drenches his siblings, most of the other cats in camp, and washes the frog away. Meanwhile, Scorchkit (3) is listening to Kestrelcreek tell stories about Clan history and wonders about the unknown. Why did Yuccawillow turn out the way she did? Do dark-cursed cats really have a connection to the Dark Forest? Why can’t powerless cats be leader? Kestrelcreek doesn’t have answers for her.

Healer’s den: Cherviljumble (broken bone), Copperheart (claw wound), Burdockbeam (sprain)

New personalities: Aphidpaw (charismatic, confident with words, and never sits still)

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sergeantsporks · 1 year ago

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Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 29/?: Infection

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28

In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family

Ao3

“Sa-am,” Evelyn sang, sweeping into the lab. Phoenix followed in her wake, ducking behind her to stay out of Petro’s glare radius.

Sam set down a rat with a glyph attached to it that scampered away immediately. “Hello, Mother Dearest. What is it that you need?”

“I didn’t say that I needed something.”

“You get musical when you’re going to ask me for something. What is it?”

“Mm. Yes.” Evelyn nodded a couple of times. “Now that you mention it. I could use a transportation glyph, please and thank you. Also perhaps you could come with us so that we can get back, and because my magic is a wee bit depleted from the barrier?”

“Ah. Just give me a—” Sam reached down, patted the table where the rat had been, and cursed. “Never mind. Give me a now. May I ask where it is that we’re headed?”

Evelyn glanced at Petro. “Not in front of him.”

“Who am I going to tell, Mummy Beloved?” Petro sighed, tilting his chair back on its legs, “I am to be left alone, without a single soul to talk t—” His chair tilted back too far and he crashed backwards. “Hm.”

“Good,” Evelyn said sharply, “It’ll give you time alone to think about what you’ve done.”

She stalked back out, Sam scurrying behind her. Phoenix turned to go, but Petro cleared his throat. “Little bird, I’ve got a favor to ask. I know you don’t trust me, and you have no reason to, but this is very important to me, so please at least consider my request.”

Despite every warning bell ringing in his head, Phoenix stayed. “What?”

Petro’s face split into a grin. “Bring me back a souvenir?”

Phoenix sighed, and he picked up Petro’s chair, setting him upright and checking to make sure his bonds hadn’t been loosened in the fall. “You know, when I was in your memories, I heard someone singing a lullaby. I don’t know who they were, but do you think they’d be proud of who you are now?”

Petro’s eyebrows went down in an angry v, and all the spiteful humor on his face gave way to rage. He lunged forward against his bonds, snapping his teeth at Phoenix, who jumped backwards to dodge the attack.

“That’s none of your business,” he snarled, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so just shut up!”

Phoenix backed out of the room, shutting the door on a growling, slavering Petro. He thought he’d seen the worst of Petro, but the hot hate in Petro’s eyes had been far deeper than before, even worse than when Petro had tried to kill him. Whoever could make Petro snap like that would have to wait, though. Evelyn and Sam were already outside, drawing in the dirt.

Before Phoenix could reach the door, Mole slid in front, crossing his arms. He held out a leaf to Phoenix, stained with green mud he must have found on the garden fence.

Phoenix hissed in. “It’s—I’m going to tell them Mole, I just…”

Mole shook his head, taking Phoenix’s arm and tugging him back further into the house.

Phoenix gingerly extracted himself from Mole’s grip. “I can’t. I can’t make them stop to deal with this, not when we’re so close. It’ll take too much time.”

Mole sighed, chewing on his lip and looking at the door, and Evelyn, and then back to Phoenix.

Phoenix crouched slightly so that he was on Mole’s eye level. “I’ll tell them when we get back. I’ll play it safe. No unnecessary risks. I promise.”

Mole threw his hands up in the air and stormed away, shutting his room door harder than necessary, but not hard enough for it to slam. Phoenix sighed.

I guess I’d be pretty mad at him if he was sick and wouldn’t tell anyone.

At least he could be sure that Mole wouldn’t tell anyone.

Phoenix joined the others outside just as Evelyn snatched the arm of a passing adult. “Marcus. I’m going out. You’re in charge of the barrier while I’m gone. It should just be a few hours, then I’ll take over again. If you think your magic is starting to fade, ask Aurelia to use hers.”

Marcus nodded, and the glow around the fence took on a different hue; still blue, but a more greenish blue than Evelyn’s magic.

Sam finished his glyph and dusted his hands off. “All set! Where is it we’re off to?”

“The head.”

Sam coughed. “The head. You mean where the Collector is? You mean that place that’s crawling with their spies? That place Phoenix barely got out of alive? That head?”

“That’s the one. I know it’s not exactly a vacation, but that’s where the last Grimwalker is, so that’s where we need to go.”

“Oh boy. Does Dad know?”

Evelyn glowered. “I don’t need your father’s permission.”

Sam held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say you did! It just seems like. Maybe. Perhaps. Going on a very dangerous rescue mission to a very dangerous place. Might be the sort of thing we discuss with the whole family? Instead of rushing off half-baked? At the very least, we should have Auric on standby?”

Evelyn paced back and forth. “We don’t have time for a lengthy family debate over the risks! Every second they spend up there is another second that the Collector might find them, or worse, kill them without realizing!”

“Okay, okay!” Sam hissed in. “Sorry, one last thing… no offense, Phoenix, but are you sure you’re up for this?”

Phoenix shoved his hands back in his pockets. “I’ll be fine. The situation’s not ideal, but it’s never going to be.”

“Sam,” Evelyn pleaded, “I’d do this on my own, but my magic is shot. Phoenix is the one who figured out where they are, so we need him there to guide us. We need to get in and out quickly, and only you can help us do that. Are you going to take us there?”

Sam’s mouth set in a firm line. “Well. I’ve already got the glyph drawn. Why not? All aboard that are coming aboard.”

Sam and Evelyn stepped into the circle, and Sam tapped the glyph. Golden light rushed around Phoenix, and when it faded, he faced a familiar archway, glowing eerily in the light cast by the Archive House hovering thousands of feet over them.

Phoenix’s heart pounded in his chest, and he gingerly touched the shattered remains of the portal door.

Are you there, Jason?

Are you still safe?

Evelyn opened her bag, passing out concealment stones. Phoenix saw potion bottles hidden deep in her bag, clinking gently together with her movement, but she quickly buckled the bag back up, hiding them from sight. Phoenix slipped the concealment stone over his head, and the magic drew lines around his joints. His clothes popped in the darkness, now more colorful and flowy, like a puppet’s.

“Where next, Phoenix?”

Phoenix peered out of the decimated lab, and immediately stepped back, head spinning. Outside, the ground gave way to a straight drop into unending darkness, the bridge long gone. “Down there.”

“Eugh.” Sam pulled out a notepad, drawing three new glyphs. “Feather-fall,” he explained, handing them out, “I don’t think taking the stairs is an option anymore.”

Evelyn immediately jumped over the edge of the precipice. Sam grabbed Phoenix’s arm. “Hey.”

“Hey?”

Sam nodded towards the edge. “Mom’s… not in the most logical headspace right now. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Once we find wherever he kept us stored, I’m going to hang back and start the return glyph.” Sam glanced up at the sky. “Being this close to the archive house gives me the creeps. I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Phoenix shuffled closer to the edge of the drop, but didn’t jump. “You’re not hanging back to try and catch a puppet, are you?”

“Well, I wasn’t, but I’m thinking about it now.” Sam gave him a little push. “Just help me keep her safe. Go!”

Phoenix took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and jumped before he could think too hard about it. He clutched the feather-fall glyph close to his chest, opening his eyes and activating it just before hitting the ground. He staggered forward, and Evelyn gripped his forearms to keep him steady.

“Easy, Phoenix. You’re alright.”

Sam tapped down gently next to them, landing as gracefully as a fairy. He held a small light glyph in one hand, gently illuminating the skull around them. “Oog. I did not miss this place.” His voice echoed in the cavern, and he kicked at something glimmering on the ground. “He never cleaned up down here, did he?”

Phoenix recognized the object Sam had kicked, and his stomach churned. Golden masks littered the ground, some accompanied by bloodstained scraps of white fabric, others by a spaulder or a torn-up breastplate.

Evelyn’s hold on Phoenix tightened. “We were this close the whole time?!”

“What is this place?” Phoenix asked. He could guess, and something pressed at the corners of his mind, a sense of familiarity, but the others seemed much more familiar with it.

“Uncle Pip’s dumping ground,” Sam grumbled “He dropped a lot of us down here once he was done with us.”

“It was always the first place Caleb and I checked,” Evelyn whispered, picking up the mask Sam had kicked. “We’d try to catch you before you hit the bottom—like poor Alex did. Not everyone ended up here, but…” She turned the mask over in her hands. “This is where we found you, Phoenix.”

Memories of both being dragged across the bridge and dragging bodies himself warred for dominance in Phoenix’s mind—not that he’d ever thought about or remembered this place before today. The memory of Belos pushing his lifeless body over the edge was faint, barely more than a feeling of déjà vu overshadowed by the pain of his injuries, but watching himself fall, while clearer… didn’t even feel important or worth thinking about.

Which was almost worse.

Evelyn shook her head, tucking the mask into her bag. “If where he made you is really just a few feet away… that’s just twisted.”

“Not to mention ridiculous,” Sam added, “What did he think happened to the bodies when he came down here to get a new kid? Did he think Grimwalker bodies just disintegrate? Okay, wait, actually, if Dad rescued all of us, then he never had a corpse for long. He probably did think that. Fascinating, he had a completely warped understanding of decomposition because of us. I would love to pick apart his brain if he were still alive.”

“Yes, incredibly interesting,” Evelyn agreed impatiently, “Phoenix?”

Phoenix took a deep breath. Okay. Which way?

He started to walk, letting his feet pick the direction without any thought. He passed a few more masks, gleaming dully in the dim light from Sam’s light glyph. Finally, a cave yawned out at them from the darkness, and Phoenix stopped.

“There,” he whispered.

Evelyn’s hand found his in the darkness. “Let’s bring them home,” she whispered.

Sam drew more light glyphs, wafting them into the room. Phoenix stared at three vats filled to the brim with dirt, the fingers on his free hand twitching and clawing as if he were buried and needed to dig his way out. Tubes fed into the dirt, and Phoenix knew in the back of his head that they should be filled with glowing green liquid. But the whole room felt… lopsided, somehow, and whatever the tubes had been hooked to before, they now lay disconnected on the ground.

A small hand stuck out of one stone vat, and Phoenix pointed with a squeak. Evelyn pulled him to it, but neither of them made any move to dig it up.

“Are they still alive?” Phoenix gingerly reached out—the hand wouldn’t even be the length of his pinkie finger when stretched out.

The moment his finger brushed the tiny fingers, they twitched and tightened, curling around his index finger. Evelyn gasped and immediately started to dig, shoveling away great handfuls of dirt. Phoenix joined her, his free hand digging around the grimwalker’s arm with practiced movements, as if he’d been doing this his whole life, even though some part of him said that he’d only ever watched, and another part of him whispered that he’d only ever dug from the opposite side.

A small face started to appear in the soil, chubby with baby fat and smeared with dirt. Evelyn seized a heavy white cloak hanging on a peg, wrapping the little grimwalker up. They weren’t quite an infant—if Phoenix had to guess, they were a year or two old.

Evelyn gently brushed dirt off of the sleeping grimwalker’s face. “Hey, little guy,” she said softly, “I know a bunch of people who are going to be so happy to meet you. And we’re going to take good care of you.” She gently kissed the top of the grimwalker’s head, then handed them to Phoenix. “Here—can you hold them for a moment? Mind their head, I think they’re big enough that it shouldn’t be too floppy but it’s been… a while.”

“Ack—” Phoenix held the baby like it might explode, cradling their head in one hand. “Um—Evelyn, I don’t know if I should—I’ve never held a—what if I drop—”

“You’ll be fine,” she said briskly, “You won’t hurt them.” She reached into her bag, pulling out potion bottles and holding them between her fingers. “Go wait outside with Sam.”

“Why? What are those? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to burn this miserable hole down to the ground so that no one can ever use it again,” Evelyn growled, “Go.”

Her magic gently pushed Phoenix out of the cave, and she threw the first potion, destroying one of the stone vats with an almighty boom and a crack of splitting stone.

“Yep,” Sam said in a resigned voice, “That’s what I was afraid of. Well! As long as she’s being safe about it! We’re far enough down that the Collector won’t notice. I think.”

The grimwalker in Phoenix’s arms squirmed, reaching up towards his face and batting at his nose. “Mrgh?” they gurgled.

“Ohhhhhhhhh boy—” Phoenix bounced the baby up and down the way he’d seen caretakers at the orphanage do. “Okay, go back to sleep, go back to—”

Another boom, and this time, the machine in the corner exploded, sending shards outwards. Phoenix’s arms started to ache, and although the flickering of the explosions made every rock and shadow seem strange and eerie, he could clearly see that the blackish green veins had reached his fingertips and were starting to web outwards, turning his nails black.

Crack

Phoenix shook his head back and forth as if that would dislodge the feeling of something slithering under his skin, making his arms itch and crawl and… bubble.

“Phoenix?” Sam asked, “Are you okay?”

“She needs to stop,” Phoenix whispered, “She needs to stop destroying it, she needs to—” He deposited the grimwalker baby in Sam’s arms before he could drop them, his arms trembling uncontrollably. The baby frowned, reaching towards Phoenix with little grabby hands.

“It took so long, she can’t…” Phoenix pressed his arms against his stomach, doubling over. “Stop it. Stop it, stop it—”

“Mooooooooooooom? We need to leave!” Sam yelled somewhere in the distance, “Something’s wrong with Phoenix—”

“Just a little bit more,” Evelyn called back, “I’m almost done—”

“Stop,” Phoenix rasped. His arms didn’t just itch anymore, they burned, shifting and tearing and breaking and reforming over and over and over.

“Mom!” Sam yelped, “Forget the cave! You’ve done enough! We need to go now!

Golden light rushed around Phoenix, and something inside of him whispered to take it, to consume it, to dig his claws (what claws, he’d never had claws) into the light and seize it for his own.

The light faded on its own, turning to red trees, and Phoenix’s legs wobbled.

Evelyn reached out to catch his arms, but yanked her hands away at the last second, her mouth dropping open in horror. Phoenix fell to his knees, too sluggish to break his fall with his hands, and crashed forward on his forearms. His arms showed no sign of flesh or skin, just oozing, pulsing mud that shifted and swirled, revealing white bone and covering it up just as quickly.

“What—is—happening—” Phoenix groaned.

Evelyn grabbed Sam’s collar, hauling him and the baby grimwalker backwards away from Phoenix and shoving him towards the house. “Get your father. Now.”

Sam scrambled away, calling for help. Evelyn approached Phoenix slowly, holding her hands up. “Hey—stick with me. When did it start getting worse?”

Phoenix touched his forehead to the ground as the mud ate at his upper arm, slinking towards his shoulders. “Hnnnngh—”

“Okay, okay, let me just—” Her hand touched his shoulder lightly, then flicked down to the mud. She immediately drew back with a yelp, shaking her hand, and eyed his arms with a mixture of horror, worry, and… disgust. “It’s like…”

“Belos,” Phoenix grated out. He pushed up to his feet, blinking back stars from his vision. “It’s like Belos, it’s—”

His curse

The attacks

Is that going to happen to me?!

“Phoenix—” Evelyn started, but Phoenix was already backing away from her.

“Stay back—I don’t want to hurt you.”

She faltered, her face heartbroken. But she didn’t chase him when he ran, stumbling through the forest. He had to get as far away from the house as he could before this lashed out—it had already hurt Evelyn, he couldn’t let it attack anyone else.

Phoenix’s arm brushed against a tree, and a jolt of pain rushed up his spine as a low branch pushed right through the mud, touching bone. He stumbled to the side with a howl, clutching his arms close to his chest.

A solitary raindrop dripped from the sky, tracing down his cheek.

Rain had never bothered Phoenix before. It had never scalded him the way it did normal witches. But now the boiling water hissed into his arms, dragging tracks in his arms and dripping muddy water from his fingertips.

And it burned.

Phoenix ran, this time looking for shelter from the rain, any shelter. He tripped, skidding down a sharp bank, and finally crawled under a fallen tree that created a small hollow. He curled into a ball, pressing his arms tightly against himself to keep them from exploding outwards. The mud had stopped trying to crawl further up his arms, leaving burns behind. It didn’t… settle, exactly. It just swirled more sluggishly, crawling and migrating around his lower arms.

Phoenix scooted further back into his hollow to stay away from the rain. At least Caleb and Evelyn couldn’t come looking for him in this weather—and he doubted they’d ask a grimwalker to find him when he looked like their worst nightmare.

“What am I supposed to do?” he whispered out loud. Every memory he had of Belos lashing out (and a few that he didn’t remember himself) with his curse played through his mind. He’d always consumed a palisman’s magic right after, but the thought made Phoenix sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do that. Not knowing how Hunter felt about his palisman, not knowing what loyal creatures they were.

What had he been expecting with this infection? That it would just make his arms ache? That his wounds would just keep spitting out cursed mud forever? That he could see some of Belos’ memories when it was convenient and not face any other consequences? Of course there was a price. There was always a price, always some exchange for any information or benefit when it came to Belos.

The rain slowed, but didn’t stop, still trickling down and making the air into a steamy fog. Phoenix’s stomach rumbled. Right. He hadn’t actually stopped to have breakfast this morning, and it was probably well past noon by now.

Had Belos ever eaten anything? Could he? Would Phoenix be able to stomach food now? Or would he be forced to eat a palisman or starve at some point?

A branch snapped, and Phoenix’s head snapped up, his ears twitching to locate the sound. He didn’t call out—anything that could be out in a rainstorm was bound to be a predator looking for its next meal.

Maybe it would be better for something to just eat me now before this gets worse and I hurt someone, he thought bleakly. Tears of exhaustion and pain blurred Phoenix’s vision, but he blinked them back, not letting them fall. I’m sorry, Darius. Jason. Hunter. I can’t…

“Phoenix?” Caleb’s voice called, “Phoooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeniiiiiiiiiiiiiiix! Are you out here?”

The ortet emerged from the steam, holding an umbrella over his head. Even with the barrier between him and the rain, tiny pockmark burns dotted his arms and face, and his clothing steamed. A pang of guilt tore at Phoenix—he’d come looking, even in the rain, and he’d gotten hurt.

“Go away,” Phoenix choked, “Just… go home.”

“Are you coming with me?”

Was he crazy?! “I can’t.”

Caleb shrugged. “Then I’m not going home either.”

He took another step closer, and Phoenix curled further into the hollow. “Stay back!”

Caleb halted in his tracks, holding his hands up as best he could while still gripping the umbrella. “Hey—it’s okay,” he shushed, edging closer, “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

“No—stay away—I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Then don’t,” Caleb said simply, taking another slow, steady step towards him.

Phoenix shook his head. How could he not understand?! He’d seen Belos, he’d fought Belos; why was he still coming closer, knowing what might happen?! “I don’t want to—but the curse, Belos’ attacks—”

“Oh,” Caleb sighed, “I see.” He reached the hollow, ducking inside and kneeling next to Phoenix. Phoenix’s heart thudded in his chest, and he pulled his arms even closer to himself, keeping them away from Caleb.

“You should run before… before…”

Caleb cupped Phoenix’s face in his hands, his thumb wiping away a streak of dirt. “Hey. Listen to me. Phillip didn’t hurt people because of the curse.” He shook his head. “Phillip hurt people because he wanted to. And Phoenix…” Caleb smiled gently, brushing Phoenix’s hair out of his face. “I’m not scared of you.”

A sob burst out of Phoenix’s throat, and he fell forward, burying his face in Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb wrapped his arms around Phoenix without hesitation, one hand cradling his head and the other resting on his back. Phoenix clutched him like a lifeline—his hands had turned to claws, so he stretched his fingers out flat to keep from tearing Caleb’s skin.

“I don’t—want to end up—like him—” he cried, tears still pouring from his eyes, “I don’t want to—” Every lie and trick, every harsh word, everything he’d done wrong in the last month pounded against his head, screaming that it was already too late, and this was just his body finally showing what he really was.

“You won’t,” Caleb said fiercely, “I won’t let that happen. I promise, you won’t turn into him. I promise, I promise, I promise.”

“It’s already started,” Phoenix stammered, “I’m sorry, I should have told you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hidden it, but I’m seeing his memories, and—and getting upset over things he’d get upset over that I shouldn’t be getting upset over. And I lied to you and Evelyn about my arms, and I lied to the Collector to trick him into letting us go, and I lied to King to get him to come with me, and… and now my arms-!”

The mud started to move again, dripping away from him, and Phoenix hid his face in Caleb’s shoulder rather than see the white bone and the oozing, burning mud. He heaved in a shaky breath. You’re acting like a child, a voice in his head scolded, but Caleb felt warm and solid, and he didn’t want to let go.

“Okay. Okay.” Caleb rubbed a slow circle on his back. “Okay. Hey—hey, I don’t know why this is happening, or you’re seeing his memories. I don’t. But they don’t make you him, not any more than Hunter is Belos because he went into Belos’ mind and saw his memories.”

“But the Collector. And King. The way I lied and tricked them…” Phoenix shuddered, his clawed hands clenching into fists and opening over and over. “I knew it was like him, I knew it was exactly something Belos would do. And I knew that the Collector had been tricked before. But I still… I still…”

“You were scared,” Caleb said gently, “You were facing something much more powerful than you, and the only way out was to use your head. Lying isn’t always the wrong thing to do, Phoenix. Sometimes you have to lie, to protect yourself and the people you love.”

“And how do you know Belos wasn’t just scared?” Phoenix challenged, “Maybe he thought he had to lie, too.”

Caleb heaved a deep sigh and slowly sat back on his heels, ending the hug. “Phillip was scared,” he admitted, “Phillip was scared of a lot of things. He was scared of dying. He was scared of losing me. But most of all, Phillip was scared of what he didn’t understand.”

“Then how?” Phoenix asked, his voice cracking, “If he lied because he was scared too, then how is it any different?”

Caleb went very still and stayed a little bit too quiet for just a little bit too long. Outside, the rain came to a stop, leaving just lingering wisps of steam. “I think,” Caleb said slowly, “that Phillip let his fear of what he didn’t understand turn into hatred.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly like he was admitting something to himself. “I encouraged him to turn it into hatred.” Caleb opened his eyes again, his shoulders hunching just ever-so-slightly, as if he were scared Phoenix would be angry at him. “I thought it was the right thing at the time, but…” he sighed. “That’s besides the point. Fear can help keep us safe. But not everything we don’t understand is out to get us. And that is something Phillip never learned. Something he didn’t want to learn.”

Phoenix tucked his arms in close again. “I… don’t understand.”

“Phillip chose to hate the things he didn’t understand instead of trying to find out more about them. And he went out of his way to keep doing so and to keep lying, and he kept on hating the unknown so badly that when the time came… he ended up causing one of his worst fears to come to pass rather than letting go of the fear that turned into hate.”

Caleb twisted his hands around each other. “I can’t say for sure where the line lies,” he said finally, “But I think perhaps Phillip crossed it when he sought out the unknown in order to destroy it, rather than just protecting himself when something harmful came his way. And most of all, I think he crossed that line when he was given obvious signs that he was hurting innocent people, and doing the wrong thing, and he chose to ignore them and keep going instead of changing.”

“How do you know I’m not doing the same thing?”

“Phoenix, would you lie to… King? Yes, King. Would you lie to King again?”

Phoenix shook his head dully. Even without knowing how King had reacted when he’d found out—he should have told him the whole truth from the beginning. Let him make his own decisions.

“And the Collector—”

“They’re not what everyone thinks,” Phoenix said in a rush, “They’re just a kid who wanted friends, and I was so desperate to get home that I ruined any chance I had, but if I hadn’t lied to him and tried to run, if I’d tried something else, anything else, I think I could have—I could have—” he stopped, eying Caleb. The ortet wore a small, knowing smile on his face. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”

“You took time to understand the Collector,” Caleb said gently.

“He’s still terrifying. Even more now that they probably hate me.”

“But…?”

“But not bad,” Phoenix admitted, “I don’t want to hurt them. And I don’t think I have to lie to them—I shouldn’t lie to him.”

“There you go. Still think you’re just like Belos?”

Phoenix held up his dripping arms. “But if I do start to…what if I start to act like him, and I don’t even realize?”

“You have me. And you have Evelyn. And you have all your siblings.” Caleb gave him a crooked grin. “I think we’re kind of experts on what Belos acts like. If you’re really worried… just trust us. We’re not perfect. And we make mistakes. But we’ll help you the best we can.”

He stood up, offering Phoenix a hand. “They’re all worried about you. Let’s go home?”

Phoenix reached up to take his hand, but before he did, he heard a rustle and a snap, and the hiss of magic. A glowing net shot out of the bushes, slamming into Phoenix.

“Got it!” a voice cheered from the bush. Two familiar masks and white cloaks popped up, dirty and dented, but still undeniably coven scouts. “Urgh, what is that thing?! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Phoenix tore at the net, his throat closing up and his breath seizing in his chest. “Get it off—get it off, get it—”

“Stay calm—” Caleb knelt down next to the net, flicking out a knife and sawing at the magical ropes. “I’ve got you, Phoenix, you’re going to be o—”

One of the scouts yanked Caleb back, throwing him to the side. “Back off! Our kill!”

Phoenix strained and kicked to get away, but the net held, and the more he struggled, the tighter the net got, digging into his skin. His arms started to shift again, the cursed mud sliding in and out of the holes in the net, bubbling and squirming to burst free.

Caleb surged to his feet, cannoning into one of the scouts and wrestling them away from Phoenix. “No!” he yelled, “He’s not—a monster! Leave—him—alone!”

“Get off!”

The scout drew a spell circle, and a flesh-eating plant tore out of the ground, snapping Caleb up in its jaws. The human yelled in pain, and a sound like a roar burst out of Phoenix’s throat. A surge of energy shot through his limbs, and he tore the net apart.

“Titan—”

“Watch out, there it—”

Without thinking, Phoenix threw one hand out, and the cursed mud responded, shooting forward and slamming into one scout’s chest, throwing him backwards into a tree. The other scout threw a fireball at him, and he raised his other arm to shield himself. The magic slammed into his arm, but it didn’t seem to burn, just sort of… splattered against the mud uselessly. Phoenix tossed the scout into the branches of another tree effortlessly, turning to face the plant.

The cursed mud stretched out so far that he could see most of his arm’s bones, and some of his fingers as well. Phoenix faltered, exhaustion sweeping up from the tips of his fingers and through his whole body, like the mud was sapping all the energy he had left.

Caleb cried out as the plant tightened its grip, and Phoenix’s vision blurred. He felt himself moving, felt trees rushing past him, felt something heavy in his arms, but it was all automatic, his feet stumbling along the way until familiar lights blinked at him. He heard a yell for someone to help, and something tugged at the weight in his arms—Caleb, he realized, someone was trying to pull Caleb away. A snarl rasped out of his throat, and he pulled Caleb closer. Shadowy people moved in his eyesight, their faces blurred and indistinct, but all of them keeping a wary distance. He felt big, and detached, like some clumsy beast that had stumbled into a domesticated town.

Something wrapped around his waist, something solid and warm. Phoenix started to pull away, but the thing just clung tighter. It didn’t make any move to take Caleb, or tug him anywhere, or knock him over, it just… held on.

Hugged, he realized, and some small part of Phoenix started to settle back down, enough that he saw and recognized the dirty, freckled face that pressed against him, eyes squeezed shut. He recognized the scar stretching from his left eyebrow to just under his right eye, and the calloused hands, rough from hours spent in the garden.

“Mole?” he whispered.

Evelyn hovered in front of them, her hands fluttering like she wasn’t quite sure whether or not it was safe to touch him. Finally, she stepped forward, sliding one arm around a half-conscious Caleb. Phoenix let her help him down, wrapping his arms around Mole instead.

Mole squeezed so tightly Phoenix’s bruised ribs ached, but he didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry,” Phoenix whispered, “I’m sorry, you were right. I should have asked for help.”

Mole sniffed and nodded, stepping back and holding one fist to his chest, rubbing it in a circle.

“He also says sorry,” Evelyn supplied, “For… being angry?” she guessed.

Mole nodded and hugged Phoenix again. Phoenix wrapped one half-melting arm around him, which quickly turned to one arm around his shoulders while Mole helped him into the house, Phoenix’s legs folding and stumbling like a newborn snake-horse’s. Cherry paced back and forth in the kitchen, but his attention was mostly taken up by the baby grimwalker in his arms, who kept trying to tug on his hair.

“They found you.” Cherry leaned against the table for balance, his distraction allowing the little grimwalker to grasp his flyaway hair strand firmly. “I thought—it got worse, and I didn’t say any—” He held the baby grimwalker tightly, as if they were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. “But you’re—not okay. But you’re here—titan.”

“I’m sorry,” Phoenix croaked. Guilt bubbled up in his stomach again—Cherry had been in a bad enough state when he’d left. And Phoenix had added the stress of hiding how badly he was doing on top of that. “Cherry, I…”

Grimwalkers gathered in a murmuring circle around Phoenix, staring at his arms.

“Did he…” Meleager asked quietly, gesturing to Caleb.

“No,” Caleb protested weakly, “He—”

A loud retch split the air, and the crowd parted around one grimwalker with a blotchy scar marring their right cheek. Everything else about them was pale—their platinum blonde half-up hair, the magenta of their eyes that fell closer to light pink, and the color of their skin, so pale it was almost translucent. They held one hand to their mouth, staring at Phoenix’s arms.

“Ash—” Evelyn started, but they backed away, gagging again, then turned and ran.

“On it,” Matt promised, chasing after them.

At the edge of the circle, Sam glanced at Cherry, who’d started pacing again, at Evelyn, who was still supporting Caleb, and at Phoenix and Mole. His spine straightened, and he gave the grimwalker next to him a slight push.

“Okay!” he announced briskly, shooing grimwalkers out of the kitchen, “Quit gawking! Big whoop! You people are acting like you’ve never seen a guy’s arms drip off his bones before! Give them space! Go do your chores! Isn’t it time for a patrol? Get on it!”

The crowd slowly dispersed, still murmuring.

“They’ll get used to it, assuming you can’t get rid of it,” Sam announced, “We all will.” He gave Evelyn a pointed look at that, then flounced off, following the grimwalkers to the hallway.

Evelyn lugged Caleb towards the temporary medical center. Phoenix started to follow, but fell at his first step, every muscle completely drained of energy. Mole half-carried him to Cherry’s room, pushing him into bed.

“What about—” Phoenix started in a whisper, but Mole just shook his head with a sigh, throwing a blanket over him. He patted Phoenix’s shoulder, as if to say leave it to me, and went outside, closing the lights and the door behind him. Phoenix sighed, pulling his arms close to himself under the blanket.

If I go to sleep now, will I wake up? Or will it take over?

Despite the worry twisting in his stomach, Phoenix’s eyes started to droop shut, heavy with exhaustion.

Just… for a moment.

#toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #my writing #gilded family au #golden guard oc #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #evelyn wittebane #caleb clawthorne

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talonslockau · 6 months ago

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Forest of Secrets - Chapter 23

Chapter 22 || Index || Chapter 24

The full moon was already beginning to rise above the trees when Fireheart padded into camp with the rest of the Riverclan border patrol, stifling a yawn as he did so. He had been keeping himself busy the past moon; taking care of the elders, volunteering for every patrol, even offering to fetch mouse bile for the more tick-ridden Clanmates. He wanted to prove to Bluestar that he was apologetic for the fight he’d had with Graystripe - and a far better warrior than the other tom would ever be.

Though the camp was by now plunged into darkness, a quick scan of the perimeter revealed glowing eyes watching from the edges, waiting for Bluestar to appear on the rock. He hesitated, not sure which cat was which, until he heard a friendly mew from near the camp entrance. He turned with a purr, making out Peppermask’s speckled coat in the dim light as he sat down by her.

“Anything interesting happening on the Riverclan border?” She asked politely to the ruddy tom, even as she kept her eyes on the lichen covering the leader’s den.

“Not even a robin chirp. Between the cold and the snow, all the prey’s hiding, and not even Riverclan seems to want to patrol their borders. Can’t say I blame them.” Fireheart puffed out his fur, trying to keep as warm as he could. Camp was a little warmer, with the leaf covering keeping in more heat, but it was still a chilly leafbare. “I mean, what are we going to do? Go hunting on the ice?”

The tabby molly giggled at the thought. “Dustleap tried it last leafbare, back when he was an apprentice. Dad was so mad at him!” The thought of Quickflash made her pause for a moment, before she quickly shook the sorrow away. “I guess he fell through the ice, and Bluestar had to fish him out. He was in Spottedleaf’s den for a moon with the worst cough.”

“I’ll bet. Yellowfang said we were lucky to avoid getting sick from our dip in the river.” Fireheart mewed, flicking his ear at the memory. It had already been so cold during his dip in late leaffall - he couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like when the water was iced over.

There was rustling from the leader’s den, and every cat in camp watched as Bluestar strode out, Tigerclaw right on her tail. The Thunderclan leader quickly bounded up to the top of the Highrock, where the last rays of the setting sun made her fur sparkle and dazzle. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!” She called, even as cats were already crowding below her to see who would get to go to the Gathering.

She gazed proudly down upon her warriors for several heartbeats, her eyes flickering over each of them. “Even despite the snow and cold, Thunderclan survives thanks to each of your efforts. I could not be prouder of each of you.” Her words cut through the chill, and several warriors murmured excitedly to each other. “Alas, I cannot bring every warrior to the Gathering. But know that even those that remain behind tonight serve a valuable role in protecting the Clan from predators seeking an easy meal this frigid leafbare.”

Fireheart nodded along, even as his paws kneaded anxiously. He knew he was last on the list to go, given his fight with Graystripe earlier that moon, but tonight was more important than she knew. He and Peppermask would finally get to the bottom of what happened at Sunningrocks seasons ago - if he was allowed to go, of course. “Along with Tigerclaw, Yellowfang, Dewpaw, and any elders and queens that wish to make the journey, I will be bringing with me Dappleshine, Darkstripe, Longtail, Dustleap, Sandstorm, Peppermask, and Fireheart.”

His tail lashed excitedly as he heard his name called. Bluestar had recognized his efforts after all! He glanced smugly out at the crowd, his eyes quickly finding Graystripe. The large gray tom looked dismayed at the leader’s decision. Fireheart grimaced as he realized the only reason his former friend had been wanting to go was to see Silverstream again. Even now he kept his head in the sand, not realizing how close they were to avenging his father’s death.

“Graystripe and Mousefur will keep watch tonight. Whitestorm is in charge of camp while I am gone.” Bluestar continued, and Fireheart turned his attention back to her. “We leave at once. Clan dismissed.”

Those chosen to leave gathered around Bluestar and Tigerclaw as they crossed camp to the bramble tunnel, while those staying behind departed to different parts of camp - mostly the warriors’ den so they could keep warm. He noticed Graystripe crossing camp towards the foxhole prison with one last bitter look at the leaving patrol, but avoided meeting the other tom’s gaze.

The Gathering patrol left silently, not wasting their breath on talking as they began to traverse towards Fourtrees. His heart and mind were racing as they traversed the forest. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this Gathering, or what Graypool would say to them. Elders were a crabby and guarded group - even with Mistyskip’s urging, he wasn’t sure it would be enough to find out what they needed.

Still, he kept such thoughts to himself. Even if Peppermask was thinking the same, it felt as though it would be a bad omen to voice them out loud. Instead, he kept his gaze concentrated on the path ahead. It wasn’t long until the tree bridge crossing came into view, covered in untrodden snow.

“What do you think, Bluestar? Is it safe to cross?” Longtail asked, his paws kneading nervously in the snow as he stared at it.

The silver queen considered the log for a moment, before nimbly leaping on top of it. Fireheart held his breath, shocked to see the leader do such a dangerous feat, but she steadily crossed without issue. “The days have been cold enough to prevent the snow from melting into ice.” She called to the patrol on the other side. “The snow will hold for the night.”

One by one, each cat crossed the cold snowy bridge. Some cats struggled more than others, but it wasn’t long before it was Fireheart’s turn to cross. He threaded his way through the twisted, snow-covered roots to stand on the fallen tree, which by now was covered in pawprints from those that had crossed before him.

For a moment, he marveled at the beauty of the path in front of him. Even though each cat had a different stride, their pawsteps unique from their comrades, they all went the same direction. It felt as if it were a silent reminder that even though each cat walked their own path, they were all part of the same Clan, looking for the same things in life. And yet the pawprints would only last as long as the snow did; a transient, fleeting reminder, just like life itself so often seemed to be.

“Quit dallying!” Tigerclaw’s snarl forced him out of his thoughts, and he quickly began to cross. Bluestar had been right; the snow crunched under his paws, giving more support to his steps than the slick barkless wood would normally allow. It made the crossing easier than normal, a welcome change to how the snow normally impeded progress through the forest.

Peppermask followed quickly behind him, with Tigerclaw bringing up the rear. The massive deputy crashed down into the snow beside him, sending it flying everywhere - including into his fur. As he shook it off in disgust, the tabby ignored him and trotted over to where their leader was waiting. “That’s everyone.” He purred smugly, ignoring the young warrior sputtering behind him.

He glared after the tom’s flicking white tail tip, but followed him up the hill nonetheless. As the patrol fanned out along the bushes at the top of the hill, Fireheart took stock of the cats in the hollow below them. He could see the giant tabby frame of Crookedstar next to the sleek black and white coat of Tallstar. It seemed as though Nightstar and Shadowclan had yet to arrive.

He searched the Gathering for Mistyskip, wondering if she had remembered the arrangement they had made last moon. Then he spotted her silver pelt glittering in the moonlight, next to a group of Riverclan and Windclan elders near the Great Rock. One of them had to be Graypool, though it was hard to figure out who from where he was crouching. He glanced at Peppermask beside him, angling his ears towards the group. She caught his eye and nodded quickly before looking back down at the Gathering, apparently lost in her own thoughts.

He didn’t get the chance to speak as Bluestar stood up quickly and led them down into the hollow, her warriors racing down the slope behind her. Several cats looked up to see them coming, but the crowd didn’t bother to part for them as they arrived. The Thunderclan patrol quickly dispersed to greet old friends, leaving Peppermask and Fireheart alone as they began threading their way through the throng towards where Mistyskip was doubtlessly waiting.

The crowd thinned towards the base of the rock, as many cats preferred to mingle amongst the roots of the Great Oaks. Only elders preferred to gather at the base, where they were close enough to hear the leaders’ words without straining. Fireheart nodded politely to Halftail and Patchpelt as he passed them talking to a black-furred Windclan elder and tabby Riverclan tom, but kept his eyes focused on where Mistyskip was huddled with another group of elders.

Rosetail had beaten them to the group, where she was exchanging pleasantries with a queen from Windclan he recognized as Larksplash. However, his eyes were on Mistyskip and a gray elder sitting beside her. As they approached, the silver warrior’s blue gaze caught sight of them. She leaned down to the queen laying in the grass beside her. “Mother, you should stretch your legs before Shadowclan gets here.” He heard the younger molly mew softly. “You know Mosspatch warned you that sitting too long in the cold will make your joints lock up.”

“Bah!” The elder spat, even as she sat up. “Your sibling worries too much. I’ve survived leafbares since before you were even a twinkle in your father’s eye, and I know my body better than anyone. If I say I’m fine, then I’m fine.”

Mistyskip sighed and shook her head. “Just one lap around the hollow, Mom? For me?” She pleaded softly with the cranky gray queen.

Her mother snorted dismissively and turned to Larksplash beside her. “Kits are always so demanding, aren’t they? Thinking they know what’s best.”

The old tortoiseshell purred warmly at her Riverclan friend, whiskers twitching in amusement. “It doesn’t hurt to humor her, Graypool. Go on: I’ll keep your spot warm for you.”

The two elders touched noses briefly as the Riverclan queen stood, stretching each of her legs out with several audible cracks. “Alright, alright. But only one lap! I’m not full of boundless energy like you.” She growled, beginning to saunter towards the empty northern edge of the hollow.

Fireheart and Peppermask slowly followed, waiting for Mistyskip to signal for them to approach. It felt like an eternity waiting as they walked together behind her, but when the chatter of the hollow had at last died away to a dull roar she flicked her tail for them to join the two Riverclanners.

“Graypool?” The ginger Thunderclanner mewed softly as the two approached, trying to keep his tone light. “May we speak to you?”

The gray elder grunted and craned her head to see the two warriors padding towards her. Her green gaze was narrow as she inspected them. “What do you want?” The queen snarled, drawing her lips back to show her yellowed fangs. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

He hesitated, taken aback by the elder’s aggression, but Mistyskip smoothly stepped between them. “These Thunderclanners are the ones I was telling you about, Mom. They have a few questions they want to ask you about- about Dad.”

Graypool’s eyes only narrowed further as she glared at her daughter, before tossing her head impatiently and sitting down. “Fine. But only a few! It’s too cold to be chattering like starlings all night.” She huffed angrily, keeping her eyes on the two Thunderclan warriors as they took a seat in front of her. Her daughter sat beside her, pressing into the elder to keep her warm.

“Of course. This won’t take long at all.” Peppermask mewed smoothly, keeping her ears perked forward warmly. “You knew Oakheart well, didn’t you?”

The elder glared at her with a look of pure disdain, her lip curled and eyes still narrow. “Did I know him well? I only raised his kits for him for fifteen seasons, gave his little minnowbrain advice he could manage, and kept him from getting into trouble at every opportunity. I suppose I didn’t really know him that well, no.”

Fireheart shifted uncomfortably beside his companion, suddenly wondering if they had been mistaken to believe they would get anything out of the queen. It was clear that while Mistyskip was willing to be friendly, she hadn’t gotten that from her mother. Still, Peppermask didn’t seem bothered by the hostility. “I understand. Can you ever really know a tomcat’s mind?” She purred, whiskers twitching at her own joke. “But you still might be able to help us. Before he died, one of our warriors reported that Oakheart said something strange to Redtail, our deputy.”

“I know who Redtail was. I’m not senile.” Graypool interrupted, her lips curling at the perceived slight. Still, her green eyes were sharper than ever as she observed the young Thunderclan warriors in front of her. “Well? Out with it, then!”

“Redtail attacked Stonestep, but Oakheart dragged him off.” Peppermask’s tail was flicking uncomfortably now, and he could tell she was struggling to maintain a positive front for the cantankerous queen. “When he did, he said to Redtail, ‘You of all cats know better than to attack him’, or something close to it. Do you know why he might have said that?”

The gray molly swiftly drew herself up, her ears flat as she glared at the two of them. Fireheart’s heart pounded in his chest. Had Peppermask said something wrong? He forced himself to meet her piercing emerald eyes, suddenly feeling like he had when he had first met Bluestar as a kittypet. What was she looking for out of them? Was this a test?

“Why do two Thunderclan warriors care so much about what Oakheart said?” Graypool asked them at last, her gaze flicking between the two of them. Fireheart glanced at the tabby molly beside him, unsure what to say. He felt like she would know if he was lying, but could he really tell her about Redtail’s murder?

“The battle with Riverclan wasn’t the only thing that happened at Sunningrocks.” Peppermask answered at last, choosing her words carefully. “There is a mystery in Thunderclan, one that we must solve for the future of our Clan. We believe Oakheart’s words hold the answer we need.”

The Riverclan queen hummed thoughtfully for a moment, pondering her words, before swinging her head towards Fireheart. “And you?” She questioned. “Why does a kittypet care what Oakheart said?”

That familiar anger at her taunting words rose up within him for a moment. He was sick of being judged for his origins, and part of him longed to take that out on her. Still, he swallowed it down, forcing himself not to anger their only way of discovering the truth. “Thunderclan is in danger.” He mewed slowly, tempering each word with careful thought. “I may have been born a kittypet, but the forest is my home. If we cannot learn the truth - the full truth, with no embellishments or lies - then I will lose the only place I have truly felt I belong. I cannot let that happen.”

She nodded slowly at his answer, and for a moment he thought he saw a spark of respect in her eyes. She turned her gaze to her daughter beside her. “And you? Do you trust these two Thunderclanners?”

Mistyskip tilted her head curiously at the silver queen’s words, but nodded slowly. “Peppermask might be Thunderclan, but she reminds me of myself when I was a young warrior. She’s certainly not badgerbrained like most of them.” Fireheart bristled slightly at the barbed compliment, but forced his fur to flatten as she turned her icy blue gaze towards him. “As for Fireheart, I know he seeks to do good for his Clan and his friends. He is not loyal to the Code, but to what’s right, like any good warrior should be.”

He blinked, taken aback by her description of him. Had she really gotten all that from him in the brief times they’d met? Still, he didn’t get the chance to ask as the Riverclan warrior turned to her mother once more. “And don’t forget, Bluestar asked both of these warriors to bring Windclan home. Tallstar himself praised them. I don’t believe they would ask us to endanger our Clan at the expense of their own.”

The elder grunted in acknowledgement as she scrutinized both of them for a moment longer. “Fine. Yes, I believe I know what Oakheart meant. You might even be right that the answer you seek is what you need to solve your little Thunderclan mystery.”

They all perked their ears at her words. “Really? Then what did he mean?” Fireheart asked eagerly.

Graypool grimaced and shook her head. “Not here. There’s too many ears that might overhear.” He blinked, glancing around, but their part of the hollow was empty. No one was paying attention to them. “At sunrise, I’ll be at Sunningrocks. It’ll be too cold for the rest of the Clan to be out there until the sun’s had a chance to heat the stones. If you really want to know, then you’ll meet me there.”

“Sunrise?” He echoed, heart twisting at the thought.

Peppermask glanced at him. “Is something wrong?” She asked him softly.

“I volunteered to go on the Riverclan dawn patrol. I won’t be able to be there.” He thought back to when the patrols had been assigned. “Not unless I can get Tinyfrost to cover for me again. He wasn’t assigned to either patrol.”

“I’m certain he’ll cover for you if he knows why. He wants justice as much as we do.” She turned back and gave a polite nod to the Riverclan elder. “We’ll meet you at Sunningrocks at sunrise.”

“Good.” The elder growled, rising to her paws and stretching again. “Now then, if that’s all, I have some old friends to talk to.”

Neither Thunderclanner protested as she began walking away, her daughter flanking her with a quick wave goodbye to the two other warriors. “That was interesting.” Fireheart mewed to his companion. “I wonder why she wouldn’t say it here?”

“I don’t know. It’s definitely strange.” She replied thoughtfully, her brow furrowed as she pondered it. “But if she doesn’t want anyone overhearing it, it must be important, and it could be the proof that we need to bring to Bluestar. I don’t think we have much of a choice if we want to convince her.”

“Right.” He sighed, disappointed that the answers had been so close, yet so far. “We should get back. The leaders will probably be calling us together soon.”

Peppermask didn’t protest, the two walking back together in tandem. In the time they’d been talking with Graypool, it seemed that Shadowclan had arrived; even in the frigid air, the thick marshy scent hit his nose as soon as he approached the growing crowd. Graypool was now talking to Poolcloud and a ginger elder he didn’t recognize: he gave them a polite nod as he passed, one that only Poolcloud returned.

As the two Thunderclanners rejoined the crowd, Fireheart found he couldn’t focus his mind on the conversations happening around him. What secret did Graypool know that she couldn’t risk being overheard by others, and how could it possibly be the answer to what had happened at Sunningrocks? Nothing that he thought of made sense, especially given that not even Mistyskip had seemed to know the answer. Elders were wise, thanks to the many seasons they had endured, but it was hard to imagine a scenario in which she would know what even her own kit didn’t.

“Cats of all Clans!” Fireheart forced himself to put it out of his mind, looking up to see Crookedstar standing on the rock. The large tabby tom’s tail was twitching, and his eyes were narrow as he glared down on the hollow beneath him. Fireheart was grateful his fur was already puffed; it was easier to hide the shiver that the angry leader sent down his spine. “It is time to begin. There is much to answer for tonight.”

The ginger warrior glanced uneasily at Peppermask next to him. What could Crookedstar be referring to? Even as he took a seat, he could see that all of the other leaders looked irritated. Had the leaders been arguing up on the Great Rock? But why? Aside from the lack of prey that accompanied leafbare, there was no reason for any arguments.

As he glanced around, he could see that the Riverclan warriors were tense, several flexing claws as they glared up at the Great Rock. He didn’t get the chance to wonder why before their leader began speaking. “Leafbare is the most difficult season for all the Clans. Prey hides in burrows, birds fly away for warmer skies, and even Riverclan must occasionally go without the bounty of the river while it is frozen over.” Disgruntled murmurs spread throughout the crowd. “It is truly a harsh season. But that does not grant any Clan the right to go seeking prey over their own borders!”

His words were met with yowls of agreement, mostly from Riverclan, but every Clan cat could agree with the sentiment. “Speak plainly, Crookedstar.” Bluestar spoke, her eyes narrow slits as she watched the tabby. “Surely you’re not accusing every Clan here of stealing your prey. We may have trouble finding prey within our borders, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Don’t play coy, Bluestar!” Crookedstar turned on her with a furious lash of his tail. “Every warrior in my Clan has seen the pawprints flagrantly crossing our borders! Your warriors traipse around in our territory, doing as they please!”

Fireheart’s breath caught in his throat at the accusation, and even Bluestar looked caught off-guard. “My warriors?” She growled, quickly regaining her composure. “I could say the same of yours! Our border patrols are constantly reporting back about Riverclan trespassing. Don’t you dare try to deflect suspicion from your actions by accusing my warriors of wrongdoing!”

The tabby’s brown ears pinned back against his head. “Don’t be so transparent, Bluestar. My warriors respect border markers, unlike yours! Do you really expect me to believe that all of Riverclan have treated themselves to your territory?”

Bluestar’s tail tip was twitching furiously as she glared at the enemy leader. “That is not what I said, and you and I both know it. If all of your warriors trespassed, that would be too easy to catch, wouldn’t it? So you only send the same cat, over and over, as though perhaps we’ll miss her scent in the leafbare cold.” She shook her head angrily. “Rest assured, Crookedstar, my warriors will not cross even a claw-length over the border, and we will catch the molly you’ve been sending if she doesn’t stop!”

A Riverclan molly was trespassing? Everything suddenly clarified for Fireheart, and he immediately began scanning the crowd. It wasn’t long until he spotted the swirling stripes of the warrior he was looking for - Silverstream, who was staring in horror up at her father. He knew she would only lead to trouble for Thunderclan! If only Graystripe were here to realize the damage his actions were causing, but he knew his former friend would stubbornly refuse to see the problem.

“And you expect me to believe that the eaten prey we’ve found covered in Thunderclan scent was pure coincidence?” Crookedstar growled, his claws glinting in the moonlight. “Do you truly take me for such a fool, Bluestar?”

He felt his lip curl angrily at the thought. Not only had Graystripe been running around with Silverstream, but he had also been sharing prey with her instead of going hungry in punishment! Fireheart’s stomach rumbled indignantly at the thought. Had the gray tom no respect for Bluestar or Thunderclan anymore?

Bluestar’s own fangs were bared as she looked furiously down on the crowd below. “I would never dare order my warriors to hunt across borders when all the Clans are suffering. If we need more territory, we must fight for it; that is the way of the warrior code.” Her blue eyes were glittering with fury as she searched the crowd, picking out each of the warriors she had brought. “Nor would I ever allow my warriors to eat when there is a chance our elders, queens, and kits could go hungry! I promise you now, Crookedstar, beneath Starclan’s sparkling skies; if you catch any of my warriors eating prey on your territory, you need only tell me their name. I will make sure that it never happens again.”

Fireheart shivered beneath her icy gaze. He could only imagine the fury with which she would handle such an offense. His punishment had been grueling, and she had gone comparatively light on him; he didn’t dare imagine what she would do to a cat that had broken the code and brought tension between the two Clans. Exile didn’t seem so unreasonable in those circumstances.

The disfigured leader’s eyes were narrow as he glared at the other leader, scrutinizing her intentions. Finally he gave a curt nod. “I will do exactly that, Bluestar. You best remember that promise; it won’t be long before my warriors catch those thieves in the act.”

“Speaking of thieves.” Tallstar stepped forward, no longer content to keep quiet. He swung his angled head towards Nightstar. “I thought Shadowclan had promised to keep their filthy paws off Windclan territory, yet my warriors have found trail after trail leading into our heartland! Tell me, Nightstar; do you think Windclan was weakened by your predecessor’s actions? Do you think that you can drive us from our territory yet again?” He was bushed out, his skinny frame hidden within his black and white fur. “Because I assure you, Windclan would sooner die than be chased out by the likes of you!”

The black tom hissed furiously as he rose to his paws. “Shadowclan has no need for your windswept moors, Tallstar! Nor have we taken any of your boney rabbits. My Clan has found other sources of prey-”

“Yes, like Riverclan fish!” Crookedstar interjected, coming to stand beside the Windclan leader. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice the broken ice beneath the bridge? I suppose the northern winds must have chilled your paws enough that icy water is little match for your warriors.”

Now all the leaders had their claws extended, except for Bluestar sitting off to the side. “Really, Crookedstar? As though accusing Thunderclan wasn’t enough!” Nightstar cast a glance towards the silver queen, as though daring her to leap back into the argument. “It sounds to me as if you aren’t patrolling your borders, if even Thunderclan is so easily stealing prey from your territory. Perhaps you should focus on that instead of accusing innocent Clans of wrongdoing.”

“Why, you!” Crookedstar’s muscles rippled as he crouched down, his tail lashing furiously. Before he could leap at the other leader, however, Bluestar stepped between them.

“A sign from Starclan!” She called, and all cats directed their attention to the skies above. Sure enough, clouds were beginning to drift over the moon, darkening the land below. “Starclan has spoken; there is no more to be said at this Gathering.”

The tabby tom’s eyes flickered between the two, and for a moment Fireheart thought he would leap at Nightstar anyways. Then with a growl he turned and bounded off the rock, waving his tail for his Clan to follow him. The other leaders did the same, not pausing to say farewells to each other.

“That went well.” Peppermask hissed beside Fireheart, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. He stood up and threaded his way through the crowd, his eyes focused on his target - Silverstream, who was still staring up at the Great Rock with wide blue eyes.

“Silverstream.” He growled as he approached, catching her attention. He didn’t bother to hide his irritation with her, his lips curled as he approached. “What happened to not letting your love harm anything? Our Clans are at the brink of war thanks to you two!”

She winced a bit at his voice and glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Most were too focused on getting back to their own nests, except for Peppermask, who had followed him. “I had no idea my father was going to do that! He hasn’t mentioned anything to me!” She replied, her paws kneading the ground in worry.

“Why would he? You’ve been a warrior for a few seasons at best!” Fireheart snapped. Admittedly, he hadn’t known that Bluestar had been aware of any Riverclan trespassing, but it certainly made sense. Even he had caught scent of Silverstream a few times on patrol, now that he knew what to look for, but he’d pretended not to for Graystripe’s sake. “If you two keep crossing the border, you’re going to get caught! Why can’t you stop?”

“I-” Silverstream hesitated and looked away with a frown. Finally, she sighed and looked back up to the two Thunderclanners. “I get it, okay? I don’t want war with Thunderclan any more than you two do - and I certainly don’t want to be the cause.” She mewed as she glanced at the Great Rock. “From now on, I’ll only meet Graystripe here, on neutral ground. That way our Clans can’t accuse each other of trespassing. Alright?”

Peppermask growled lowly beside him. “Why can’t you just leave my brother alone? We have enough problems already without you adding to them!” She spat, her claws digging in and out of the snowy grass below her.

Silverstream looked pained by the aggression. “Because I love him.” She replied simply. “And he loves me. We were destined to be mates - even Starclan agrees!”

As badly as Fireheart wanted to retort, he just nudged Peppermask and flicked an ear towards where the Thunderclan patrol was gathering. “Come on. We don’t want Tigerclaw to get suspicious.”

“... Fine.” Peppermask growled, stalking away. Fireheart followed her slowly, taking one last glance at the Riverclan molly as she trotted away to her own Clan. At least they had gotten some concession out of her. Even though they would eventually get caught, at least they wouldn’t threaten to bring the Clans to the brink of war any more. Surely that was better than nothing?

He shook his head and focused on Peppermask and the other Thunderclanners ahead. That wasn’t his concern any longer. He had a real problem to deal with, more than two badgerbrained warriors that couldn’t see reason. It would only be a little while longer until they got answers - and then, at last, he would be able to avenge Redtail’s death.

#talonslock #warrior cats #the prophecies begin #fanfic #thunderclan #forest of secrets #talonslock story #fireheart #peppermask #tigerclaw #bluestar #mistyskip #graypool #crookedstar #tallstar #nightstar #longtail #graystripe

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