Chapter Text
It happens like this: Sasuke is fifteen years old when he kills a man wearing snakeskin and upends an entire underworld. He is sixteen years old when he’s realized he doesn’t have to remind Team Hebi anymore to incapacitate, not kill. He is seventeen years old, almost eighteen, when he defeats Deidara of the Akatsuki, and when Kisame steps aside to let him approach his brother.
It happens like this: Naruto is sixteen years old when he loses his mentor, and when he is given the key to a gate he had always thought should never be opened. He is seventeen years old when his home is destroyed, when he talks sense into a man who has been governed by despair for far too long.
It happens like this: Kakashi is far too young when he meets his father at the boundary between places, and he feels far too old when he is pulled back away. He sets this aside for another time as Naruto calls together Team 7 and Team 8 and Yamato because Pain-whose-name-was-Nagato told him Akatsuki is mobilizing, and Itachi will be in the open, and, and, and—— Kakashi reads between the lines.
Most importantly, it happens like this: Naruto gets to Sasuke at the same time Tobi does.
It’s a small, low room, barely anything more than a cave, and the rock walls get a plus in Karin’s book for barely cracking under the weight of Jūgo’s punches. She darts in under a swinging arm, the whistle of Kubikiribōchō, and there, on that table, a glass jar with eyes suspended in fluid. Definitely a taunt. Ostensibly sanitary. Fucking charlatan.
She redoubles her efforts in masking her chakra and tucks the jar into her pack, sliding silently under the table as Jūgo roars again and Suigetsu yells and– and there’s that chakra again, the one that drew them here in the first place. Like sunlight set on fire. Karin hastily readjusts her glasses just in time to see as a massive wind release jutsu she’s unfamiliar with tears through the cave, and that Tobi guy’s chakra blinks out— only to reappear seconds later elsewhere.
Oh, she doesn’t like that. Karin narrows her eyes.
“The rats have come crawling out,” Tobi sneers. (That’s odd. Where’s the timid childishness they saw the last time they ran into him?) He stands at the opposite end of the room. “Fine, then. Lick your wounds. And when he wants his questions answered—” Tobi tips his head towards the scrambled, weak pile of chakra that comprises Sasuke right now. “Tell him I’m waiting.”
The air splits around him like a wound and he disappears.
The room is silent except for their ragged breaths.
To say that Karin has questions is the understatement of the year. He’d been taunting whoever that other person is when they’d showed up, something about Konoha’s dirty hands and Itachi and cover-ups, but she’ll have to ask later.
“Jūgo,” Suigetsu says quietly, breaking the silence, and reaches out to touch Jūgo’s shuddering form before throwing a look back at Karin and then over at– at sunlight inferno.
Karin steps out from her corner. Unfamiliar eyes — piercing — snap to her immediately at the movement, and for a moment that inferno surges, red flickering at the edges of her vision, and she feels intent like a tangible thing.
Okay: refocus. Assess. Sasuke’s been restrained; he’s still injured, so he’s not been restrained particularly tightly, but judging by the tattered chains and burnt-through sealing papers, the other person had been more of a threat. Which rubs her wrong, a bit, because Sasuke should always be considered a threat, he should never be considered anything other than the threat and no she is not biased, but— this mysterious other captive certainly is strong, judging from the way he was slinging chakra around at Tobi. And there’s something deep in there, too, that Karin can’t quite put her finger on.
But most importantly — the only reason she hasn’t made a move, the same reason Suigetsu has started to bring Jūgo down — this person is standing in front of Sasuke’s slumped, unconscious form, feet planted firmly in spite of the blood dripping steadily to the ground. Defensive. Everything in those eyes screams to the last breath.
...which might be literal, judging by that pale face and the shallow breaths.
“Jūgo, help this guy,” Karin says, making an executive decision, and she rolls up her sleeves. “I’ve got Sasuke.”
It’s the next day when Sasuke wakes up, or so he thinks. Vaguely, he remembers— no no no, not that, not right now— he remembers… a familiar wash of chakra over his injuries. Karin. Hebi— no, that won’t do anymore.
And then there’s—
Sasuke cracks his eyes open and blinks away the blurred sleep in his vision to meet Naruto’s steady, fierce gaze. Piercing.
“Don’t,” Sasuke croaks, mouth and throat dry.
“What?”
“Whatever it is you’re about to do, or say. Don’t.”
Naruto smiles at this, but it’s sad and wan and looks utterly out of place against Sasuke’s memories.
“I’m sorry, Sasuke,” he says, and Sasuke immediately closes his eyes again as empty grief wracks him, and he feels an involuntary shudder crawl down his spine. “Hey. I am.” A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, warm where it’s touching skin and not bandages. “And I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone. Your teammates aren’t, either. And besides—” A pause. Sasuke opens his eyes again. Naruto is staring ahead, eyes unfocused. “What that guy said. Madara, or whatever.” Anger stirs in Sasuke’s gut this time, coiling through him. “That’s fucked up. And I think— I think it’s true. Or at least, part of it.”
Oh.
It’s been years since they were teammates, years since they even saw each other last, but Sasuke knows that voice. That’s Naruto’s it’s fucked and I’m going to fix it voice.
Sasuke closes his eyes, and does his best to not think about how in all the hurt he’s feeling, there’s an ache that tells him exactly how much he missed his best friend.
Two days later, Sasuke has run out of energy to continue convincing Naruto to leave.
(Then again, Sasuke should have considered that particular battle lost the second Naruto introduced himself. The broken, hopeful look on Karin’s face when she’d realized— he doesn’t want to think about it. It’s a better use of his energy to start trying to accept that Naruto has wrestled himself back into Sasuke’s life, against all odds.)
Of course, as his luck would have it, this is also the day that a clone of one Hatake Kakashi finds success in its comb of the forest, and the ensuing shitshow — Karin panicking, Suigetsu making some fucking show with Kubikiribōchō in front of the man who killed Momochi Zabuza, even though Sasuke has told that story more than once and Kakashi is not the one who killed him — is enough for Sasuke to give in to his exhaustion and give up entirely on consciousness.
When he wakes up again, the dust has settled, more or less. Karin’s hackles are still up; Suigetsu is looking decidedly sour. Jūgo has a badger in his lap and two sparrows on his shoulders. Sasuke sighs.
“Good morning,” Kakashi says, with marked amusement. Sasuke spares him a glance.
“What are you doing here?”
“Tracking a Konoha ninja who went missing on a recon mission,” Kakashi replies easily, and shifts to rest his chin in his hand. “It’s good to see you, Sasuke. I’ll spare you the false pleasantries; I can’t understand how you’re feeling right now. But you have my condolences, if you’d like to accept them.”
Sasuke looks away.
He tunes out for the rest of the conversation; they’re trying to catch Sasuke up to speed on what he’d missed in terms of information exchange in the hour he’d slept, but it’s easy to tune out the way that Kakashi’s and Naruto’s voices weave over one another, and instead Sasuke focuses on keeping his mind blank until he registers a change in the charge of the conversation, a hitch that means something is coming.
“Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto starts, and then pauses. His eyes flicker over to Sasuke again, then back. “What do you know about a guy named Danzō?”
Kakashi gives no outward reaction other than a thoughtful frown, but his attention sharpens like a knife-point.
“Shimura Danzō? A contemporary of the Sandaime. Why do you ask?”
Right. Kakashi knows something. Kakashi likely knows more than just something.
“He's the one who ordered Itachi to kill the clan,” Sasuke says bluntly, before Naruto can try to be sensitive about it.
It’s with vicious satisfaction that Sasuke watches Kakashi’s aloof mask crack as he processes this information.
For a full sixty seconds, Kakashi does not move. And then, finally, he closes his eye, takes a slow breath, and the mask settles back into place.
“Danzō was head of a secret Anbu division called Root for years. They were disbanded around the same time as the massacre, but I never… I didn’t think anything of it.”
Sasuke looks over to find Naruto already staring at him, and when their eyes meet, Sasuke, strangely enough, feels something tightly coiled within him loosen. Just slightly.
“Naruto,” Kakashi continues, voice low and serious, “I need you to listen to me very closely right now. You cannot return to Konoha right now.”
Naruto looks like he’s been punched in the throat.
“What?”
Sounds like it, too.
“Tsunade is still in a coma. The elders declared a need for an interim Hokage, likely to succeed to be the Sixth.” Kakashi closes his eyes. Sasuke knows what’s coming. “It’s Danzō. I’ve got reason to believe he might have influenced that choice somehow. You flexed a lot of power during Pain’s attack, Naruto. If there’s one thing I know about Danzō, it’s that he’ll want to leash that power.”
Naruto’s hand curls over his stomach, a reflexive, subconscious gesture. Sasuke files away several questions to ask Naruto later. Pain, Tsunade, attack.
“Is Granny…” Naruto can’t quite meet Kakashi’s eye.
“She’s stable,” Kakashi tells him, voice unusually gentle. “Shizune and Sakura are sure she’ll be coming to eventually, but they’re not sure when. The Fifth used almost all of the chakra she’d had stored, so it’s likely to be a few months.”
The ghost of a smile flickers across Naruto’s face.
“Guess Jiraiya really is intent on her not chasing after him, huh,” he mumbles.
Kakashi softens even more, and gently rests a hand atop Naruto’s hair, and… well, Sasuke never really had the chance to see what grief looks like when Naruto wears it, but he knows that’s what this is. Tentatively, another question to ask later. Perhaps.
Well. At least with this information, Naruto’s behavior is making more and more sense.
“Anyways,” Naruto goes on, audibly wrenching himself back into one piece, “if I can’t go back to Konoha… then what?”
Kakashi’s attention flicks over to Sasuke, and then back.
“Well, Naruto, you’ve got a lot of friends in a lot of places,” he says, and his visible eye is bright with mischief. So, Kakashi has given this some thought. Sasuke reviews everything Kakashi had shared, about Danzō’s men intercepting the cell, how upset and worried everyone had been, and— ah. His old teacher is just as crafty as ever, it would seem. “If you were to, say, chase after your friend, or spend more time training at Mount Myōboku, that would be understandable. Grief can be a funny thing. Though, of course, it’s best you stay with people you who can help protect you, rather than going it alone. I’ve got no doubt Root will be after you.”
“We can protect Naruto,” Sasuke interrupts. Judging by the way every head in the room turns, he’s surprised everyone. Himself included. “Danzō won’t touch anyone else.”
Kakashi’s gaze is carefully mild.
“I was thinking of another person who’d understand Naruto’s position and predicament,” Kakashi says, “but if Naruto trusts you with his life—”
“Of course I do, Sasuke’s my frie—”
“Even though I tried to kill you last time we saw each other?”
A ringing beat of silence.
“I— yes!” Naruto’s air of angry righteousness is the same as ever. “Things change! You– you did what you– meant to do. And things are different now. I might not have trusted all your dumb ideas, but I still trust you.”
Sasuke meets Naruto’s eyes, and something flickers to life deep within his chest.
Naruto turns back to Kakashi after leveling Sasuke with one more affronted glare.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
“That you’ve got another friend who knows what you’re dealing with,” Kakashi repeats, and that cheeky fake cheer is starting to edge into his voice. “What it’s like to be weaponized and manipulated by your village.” Ah. Gaara. Sasuke knows the Ichibi was extracted and that the Kazekage survived somehow, but he has no details. It figures that Naruto was involved somehow. Naruto, on that note, is frowning, still uncomprehending. “A jinchūriki,” Kakashi prompts.
“Gaara?” There’s a mix of emotion on Naruto’s face, now, tinged overwhelmingly with worry.
“Danzō has ties to Akatsuki. At this point I’d say it’s safe to assume that either he’s pulling the strings, or he wants to be.” Kakashi raises his eyebrow pointedly. “Suna is an ally of Konoha’s, and Gaara was a jinchūriki. He has a right to know, and I know he’d prioritize the safety of a fellow jinchūriki.”
“We’ll accompany you to Suna,” Sasuke says, looking at Naruto. “We can protect you. Karin’ll be able to tell if someone’s trailing us. Jūgo can scout using wildlife. Suigetsu is a skilled swordsman. We’ve stayed under the radar for this long as a four-man cell, one more person won't make a difference.”
He turns the thought over in his head, tests its weight and shape. The past however-many hours — days — have been nothing but numb, the nebulous idea of future or forward something simply incomprehensible. But this is a task; a simple task, if perhaps not an easy one, with a start and an end.
Something like wonder is starting to grow in Naruto’s eyes.
“If—” Sasuke takes a deep breath, and continues. “If my brother did what he did to protect me and protect Konoha, if he recognized what Danzō is, I won’t let that go to waste.”