Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was easy to lose track of time in Orochimaru’s hideout. The man wasn’t fond of windows and built the structure deep underground. It was dark and eerily quiet, devoid of joy or liveliness. The passage of time was nearly impossible to track without a clock.

But Sasuke wasn’t stupid.

Some days he woke up in places he hadn’t gone to sleep, the skin around his curse seal burning and a terrible headache pounding behind his eyes. Some days he woke up exactly where he fell asleep but his body felt different, his mouth too dry and bones too sore to have simply slept for a few hours.

Juugo had only given him a sad look when Sasuke asked if he’d had similar experiences. He wasn’t sure if that meant “yes” or “you poor doomed soul,” so he hadn’t asked again.

No, Sasuke wasn’t stupid. Something was wrong in this place, it made his skin crawl and his instincts scream. He had plans to leave soon, he just needed a little more time, a little more power.

He had plans. He’d even dare to call them dreams.

In the privacy of his own mind, he liked to imagine a homecoming. Eating stupid salty ramen with Naruto talking too loudly too close to his ear. Watching Kakashi bonk the moron over the head with that damn smut novel every time he tried to peek behind his mask.

Sasuke dutifully ignored the twist in his gut when he thought too hard about his brother. The person standing between him and that dream. He knew his duty. He would be a good son, even if it razed him apart from the inside.

If nothing else, he could trust Naruto to be gentle with whatever was left of him at the end.

Naruto’s eyes looked the same after their years apart. Still too wide, electric blue. As if the idiot had charka running through them. But no, that was just him being himself. Painfully bright.

“Come back to Konoha, Sasuke!”

His shouting still hurt his head the same way. Sasuke gazed down at his teammate, a carefully blank look on his face. He could feel Orochimaru’s eyes on him, that yellow gaze laid like a weight across his shoulders. Judging, assessing.

He held his silence, his stillness. Impassive, disciplined. He was a soldier, he was a warrior. Above it all.

It was a sharp contrast to Naruto, who dressed in bright clothing and shouted about things he wanted and cried when he became overwhelmed.

And that should’ve disgusted him. Sasuke knew Orochimaru was waiting for him to sneer, to throw out insults and make that hopeful bright face crumple in grief. All his training was urging him to do so.

But Sasuke had never really been a good listener, he shared one flaw with his teammate after all.

“Go back to Konoha. Forget about me, Naruto.” His voice was bland, emotionless. But not cruel.

And yet it was still too much. Sasuke felt the tide of anger rising in the man standing behind him. Burning chakra leaked into the air, running like invisible teeth down the sides of his head. A pale hand gripped hard at his shoulder.

“Good soldiers don’t show kindness,” a low voice hissed into his ear. “You’ll never be strong enough to kill Itachi if you can’t even handle this.”

Something tight snapped in Sasuke’s chest and he roughly shook off the hand laid on him. In a blink, he had descended the cliffside, faster than any eye could’ve tracked the movement. He stopped with his arm thrown over Naruto’s shoulder and leaned in until his mouth was close to his ear.

Blonde hair was tickling his nose, the smell painfully familiar. Sasuke hesitated for a moment too long. He felt Naruto draw in a breath to start speaking again.

“Come home,” Naruto pleaded in a soft voice. His head turned and Sasuke found their faces shockingly close. Their noses nearly touched. Neither boy leaned away.

“Come home with me. Please, Sasuke.”

Electric blue met ink black. Their eyes didn’t waver, didn’t flinch away.

Sasuke bent the arm he had throw over Naruto’s shoulder, his hand came up and cupped the back of his head. In a moment of personal indulgence, he ran his pale scarred fingers through the other boy’s blond hair. So distinct. Fluffy and a bit dry.

It almost made him want to smile. It made him think of cheap soap in a messy apartment, just another orphan trying to survive until graduation.

Day and night, they couldn’t be more different. Yet they always shared some understanding of the other. Sasuke stopped resisting and let the edge of his mouth curl into a tiny reluctant smile.

Naruto raised his own hand and grabbed Sasuke’s wrist. Not to pry off his hand, just to hold on. His eyes were pleading, but not frightened.

Sasuke had punched a lightning wrapped fist through Naruto’s chest the last time they stood this close and the idiot still wasn’t scared. How fucking stupid.

He’d missed that brand of stupid.

“We’ll find a way to make it all okay,” Naruto whispered.

And dammit, Sasuke believed him.

A small huff left him, and Sasuke felt his shoulders relax. It was hardly an agreement to anything the boy had said, but it was still something that Naruto must’ve recognized, because the boy grinned at him. The hand holding his wrist squeezed briefly. Naruto opened his mouth to speak.

“Oh Sasuke… I’m so disappointed.” Orochimaru interrupted the boy before he could speak. His voice was sickly sweet. “I thought we worked through this disobedience.”

“I’m not your dog.”

“No, you’re a person who made a deal with me. Haven’t I upheld my end? Where’s your honor, Uchiha?”

Sasuke turned his head so he could sneer back at the man. With the distance between them, with Naruto wiggling slighting under the weight of his arm, Orochimaru seemed… less. Sasuke wondered why he ever felt uneasy around the man at all.

“My honor died along with the rest of my family. I’ll get it back once Itachi is dead. That’s not something you dictate.” He turned fully, staring boldly up at the older man. “I think I’ve learned all I can from you anyway.”

“Is that so?” His voice was quiet but his yellow eyes had narrowed dangerously.

“Damn right! He’s coming back to Konoha with me!” Naruto shouted eagerly, confident as always.

Sasuke stared in silence up at Orochimaru, not correcting his teammate. After a few tense seconds, the older man sighed and his posture relaxed. His head fell to the side, long black hair coming to cover half his face.

“An early test then. I had hoped to wait a little longer.” His voice was calm, easy.

Something prickled in Sasuke’s chest. The feeling of charka raking down the sides of his head came back, phantom pain and suffocating terror. His hand squeezed hard in Naruto’s hair.

“Ouch! Hey man what the hell?” Naruto turned confused eyes towards Sasuke.

Sasuke shook his head in silence, taking a step backwards, away from the cliff that the Sannin stood upon. He didn’t know why. A memory he couldn’t reach, some long buried instinct was screaming at him to run. He couldn’t understand why though.

Orochimaru straightened his head, a vicious smile tugging at his mouth. His venom yellow eyes locked onto Sasuke’s own.

“Sasuke, can’t you see it? Empty fields and empty houses, all yours.”

“Crows flying over funeral pyres,” Sasuke’s voice finished. He could feel his lips moving, the vibrations of his own voice echoing in his chest. Somehow it was distant. His vision was blurry, his head filled with static. As if he was being dragged out by the tide. Turned inside out and strung up like a puppet.

In his last seconds of awareness, he felt his body turn back towards Naruto, the hand in that blond hair gripping much too hard. His other hand dropped to his sword.

No. What?… He didn’t…

In his head, Sasuke tried to move but he was stuck. Staticky chakra flooded his head, everything buzzed unpleasantly. He couldn’t keep his eyes open.

Distantly, he felt his arm extend. He heard the hum as his sword left the sheath at his waist. The static became louder, Sasuke wondered if his ears would bleed. His couldn’t feel the wind on his skin or smell Naruto’s soap anymore.

In the growing blackness, he heard a single wet gasp. The hand holding his sword was wet… a warm trail inching from his wrist to his elbow.

Sasuke’s mind lost its strength and he fell into the static.

The ceiling was cracked. Sasuke’s eyes opened sluggishly and that was all he could comprehend through the fog.

He was laying on his back.

A single drop off water was gathering at the edge of the crack. Getting bigger. Nearly ready to fall. His eyes were locked onto the drop.

Something was itching at his mind.

A face leaned over his own. Acid yellow eyes with slit pupils. A pale hand was rising to touch him.

The drop of water fell, landing on his wrist.

Warm, too warm. Too much, even for him. Too far from the village. Not this time.

It was everywhere, all over him. Someone was screaming.

Wide blue. Bright like the sky, round like a robin egg. Closing.

He tried to sit up but the pale hand caught him, slapped against his forehead and slammed his skull back to the metal below him. Chakra raked down his face, like sharp fingernails.

His eyes closed as the static rose up to swallow him again.

He was sitting at a table. A large person was next to him. Orange. Something prickled in his head.

No… just orange hair. The person with orange hair nodded at him.

He turned back to his food. Half of it was gone. But he didn’t remember eating. He raised a hand to cover his eyes. The light hurt. His skull was cracking apart.

Fingers dug into his hair and wrenched his head backwards. Acid yellow filled his vision and—

He was on his back. Metal below him, cold. Crinkly paper on top of that.

A man with grey hair leaned over him.

“—too soon… —methods… —unsure…” the voice came to him in bits and pieces, only a few words.

Black hair and yellow eyes flashed in the corner of his sight line.

“…—functional…. -no concern…”

Grey haired man’s hands glowed and the static rose again.

“The Nine Tailed Demon’s human carrier is dead.”

Several of the gathered group stiffened in surprise.

“Who killed him?” Sasori’s calm voice broke through the whispered conversations.

Purple eyes turned to red ones.

“Uchiha Sasuke struck the blow. He was accompanied by Orochimaru.”

Kisame’s eyes widened. He turned towards his mission partner.

“Hey they were teammates right? Tried to save him that time we all met.”

Itachi stared down at the table in silence. Kisame shrugged when he didn’t get an answer. A mean smile crept across his face, made terrifying by his sharp teeth.

“His own teammate! Guess your brother is more like you than I thought.”

Itachi felt ice cold fingers run down his spine.

Something was very wrong.

“—pretty but his head is empty.”

A finger poked hard at his temple. His hand snatched it and twisted hard. A crack and a scream.

“—deserved it!”

“Shut up! Stupid Uzumaki bitch.”

A jolt.

The whistling of electricity, a thousand birds.

His head whipped back and forth. Red hair and a confused face, female. White hair and sharp teeth, male. Orange hair and very tall, male.

No. That was wrong. There… should’ve been someone else. Someone was missing.

His hand dropped to his sword, his eyes burned with chakra and flashed red.

“—protocol?!”

“I don’t fucking remember!”

A large hand brushed the back of his head gently. The tall orange haired one was watching him with sad eyes.

“Sorry, Sasuke.”

Chakra seeped into his skull from the hand cradling it and—

He was laying on concrete. Cold. A glass shattered somewhere nearby.

“—USELESS TO ME!”

“—blame… —stretched the limits… —teammate!”

“—fix it.”

A foot kicked hard against his stomach, he curled up in pain. Someone was standing over him, he felt their eyes on him.

The tip of a shoe nudged his chin up, his hair fell away from his face. Eyes met his own. Their lips moved but he couldn’t understand.

The foot connected with the side of his head and blackness swept over him.

“There’s a price on Uchiha Sasuke’s head. International. Konoha ninja are eligible to collect.”

Finally, officially named a traitor. Only Naruto’s begging had held her judgement back for so long.

The quiet was… startling. She was used to seeing Naruto at Kakashi’s side, his loud voice chiming in as she tried to give mission orders. Equally irritating and endearing. His absence felt unnatural. The urge to peek around the corner and search for his blond head was strong.

Kakashi accepted the news quietly. He didn’t seem angry or eager. Only broken. She doubted he slept much anymore, the dark circles below his eyes looked like tattoos.

Tsunade wasn’t sure how to help him. If anyone could. With a sigh, she pushed another mission scroll towards him.

At least she could keep him distracted.

The man left her office without having spoken a single word. His new usual.

Tsunade wondered just how much tragedy one person could endure before something inside was misplaced. Misaligned. Before their anchor snapped and they faded away.

His eyes opened. His vision was clear. The static was pooled around his ankles but he felt functional.

He forced himself to sit upright. A hand holding a knife swiped towards him from the side, he caught it on pure instinct. He squeezed their wrist until the bones creaked and their hand opened. The weapon fell to the floor.

“Good! So much better now.”

The words rolled over him, slow like syrup. He felt sleepy. His eyes flicked to the attacker.

Male. Grey hair. Glasses.

His hand tightened and the bones under his fingers snapped.

Quiet laughter echoed from behind him. He turned and found another man. Black hair. Yellow eyes. Smiling.

“He’s even more vicious. So… unrestrained.” A wider smile. “Beautiful.”

The static lapped gently at his feet. This feeling was familiar. Watery. He remembered floating, the vague sense of being taught to swim. Some faceless person holding their hands out towards him. Long black hair floating in the water behind them. Safety. Love.

His head turned. He examined the room around him. He wasn’t in any water. Odd. And the faceless person wasn’t here. Should they be here?

Yellow Eyes in the corner stopped smiling, tilting their head like a cat.

“Hmm. Maybe a little more tweaking. And heal your wrist while you’re at it.”

Footsteps came towards him, a hand touched his chest.

“Lay down.”

He did. He couldn’t find a reason not to.

The static reached his head, he felt his hair float freely around his ears. He closed his eyes and let it rise.

“Collect the bounty.”

“You don’t think this’ll have a nasty outcome? Uchiha won’t let this happen peacefully.”

“He killed his entire family.”

“And he left that brat alive.”

Pein frowned at the redhead before him. Sasori’s heavy lidded brown eyes showed no concern with his leader’s impatience.

“We lost the Nine Tails. The money is merely a consolation prize. We have to send a message.”

“That only we’re allowed to kill demon containers? Strange message.” Sasori offset his words with a casual shrug and a sigh. “We’ll take care of it. Just be ready for the fallout.”

Pein nodded. He was prepared.

His eyes opened. The static was… muted. His body floated in it but he could breathe. He could move.

His feet were steady beneath him.

A sword swiped at him from the right, a metal spear from the left. A line of kunai dropped from above, an exploding tag tied to each. Five enemies in the room.

His body moved smoothly, instinct carrying his movements along.

The static brushed across his face. He remembered swimming in the ocean, below a bridge. A new one. The rolling tide brushed him, back and forth. A pattern, strong and predictable. Loud laughter echoing across the water.

The water receded and his enemies were dead.

Yellow Eyes and Black Hair stood in front of him. Smiling.

“Perfect.”

“I dedicate this memorial park to the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, and to the last user of Mokuton Jutsu, Yamato. Both men gave their lives to ensure the Nine Tailed Fox wouldn’t run free. Their deaths saved countless lives, this dedication is only a shadow of what they truly deserve yet it is all this village can give.”

Tsunade cut the black ribbon strung between two trees. The crowd was appropriately silent. It was hardly a joyous event.

“Please, keep them in your thoughts and never let your gratitude waver.”

She waited at the podium as the crowd dispersed, eager to get a look at the transformed land that used to belong to the Uchiha clan. No use in keeping it anymore. It would’ve been doomed to sit empty forever, full of ghosts.

Tsunade had signed the contracts to have it razed and repurposed a week after Naruto’s death. She almost wished doing so had made her sad.

Ah, there he was. She walked away from the podium, heading towards the deep shade below a large pine tree. She sat down quietly next to him, neither feeling the need to speak immediately.

“I couldn’t get it approved, but I added the final touch myself. No official record.”

The head of grey hair tipped, indicating he was listening.

“Towards the eastern edge of the land, far away from foot traffic, there are two young ginko trees. I made plaques for Kushina and Naruto.”

She had chosen the trees carefully. Something that would live for a very long time, something that was as brightly colored as the two people themselves.

If they were treated well, those two trees would live for hundreds of years. The leaves would turn orange and yellow when the summer ended, like a last glimpse of sunshine before winter took hold.

It seemed… fitting.

Kakashi didn’t speak but she heard his breath catch.

Tsunade wondered if the space under those trees would be visited as often as the memorial stone. Kakashi let his head hang forward, his hair falling to cover what his mask couldn’t.

It was all she could do for him now, just pretend she didn’t notice the way his shoulders shook as he cried.

The sun lowered so slowly around them.

He was sitting on snow. Movement next to him drew his gaze, a bright orange jacket clad boy was laying down to his right. His tan hands ran back and forth over the snow, a bright smile creased the scars on his cheeks.

“Winter’s here,” the boy said and tossed a handful of snow into his face.

He wiped his face clean and opened his eyes. They were no longer on snow, but grass. The boy was tied to a wooden pole.

He was holding a tray of food. Without hesitation, he held out some of his food on the end of his chopsticks. The boy smiled and opened his mouth.

As his teeth closed over the bite, electricity lit up his body. His eyes shot open and glowed icy blue, slowly turning red as the blood vessels burst.

“I’m sorry!” He dropped the tray of food and the chopsticks, both disappearing into smoke as they hit the grass.

“You think you deserve to apologize?” White hot sparks jumped between his teeth as he spoke, a trail of electricity flickering over his tongue. “You don’t even remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Me.”

The boy leaned forward, eyes flashing between blue and red. His pupils lengthened, becoming slit like a cat’s eye.

“You don’t even remember you.” The boy whispered, coming to a stop close to his face.

A flicker of lightning jumped from the boy’s lips, meeting his own with a sharp burst of pain.

His eyes snapped open. He was laying on the forest floor, a rough blanket spread below him and a bag full of bounty scrolls at his side.

Right.

He had to return to headquarters. Get new mission scrolls. Receive new orders. He stood up and gathered his things, determined to start his travel immediately even though it was still dark.

The dream drained from him like sand from an hourglass. By the time the sun rose, he couldn’t remember what had left him feeling so hopelessly empty.

Another explosion blasted shrapnel at him. His face was wet on one side. His leg was injured. The enemy kept to the sky, out of reach. He needed to bring them down if he wanted to survive.

There were two enemies who ambushed him. But the redhead had disappeared soon after the fight started, chased off by someone with long black hair. Neither enemy nor ally, an unknown.

The inside of his head itched and the next explosion landed too close. His ears rang. No more distractions.

The enemy flew lower. Almost. Almost. There!

The flying creation hit the web of chakra wire concealed between the trees and he pumped it full of electricity.

A thousand birds screaming.

The enemy dropped limply to the forest floor. He approached carefully, finally getting a look at his opponent. They pushed themselves upright, wobbling badly.

The dull static sharpened. The tide was stronger, pulling at his fingertips.

Blonde hair. Bright like dandelions. Their head turned towards him. One eye, blue as the sky they fell from.

“You haven’t won yet Uchiha! I’ll beat your sorry ass!”

Loud. Annoying.

His chest was burning. He could hear birds screaming again.

“Do I know you?” His voice was rough, he didn’t much speak anymore. He wasn’t sure why he was speaking now.

The blue eye narrowed. “Prideful asshole! My art is known in every nation.”

His arms were floating in the rising tide now. He could feel it urging him along. Something was wrong.

“…Naruto?”

Who was that? Why had he asked that?

Their face twisted in confusion. “What?”

Someone jumped between them. A swirl of black hair and a large cloak, red and black.

Red and black eyes.

The static rose above his head. He remembered swimming. He never learned how to drown. Maybe that was his problem.

“Stay out of this Uchiha! The kid is fucked up, he thought I was the Nine Tails just now. Put him out of his misery, who knows what the snake freak did to him.”

Blonde. Blue eyes. Loud. Talks too much during battle.

“Naruto.” His voice was sure now. Yes, he knew him. He didn’t know who Naruto was but he knew this was Naruto.

The static rushed into him, pressing painfully into his eyes. Filling his lungs and his ears with pressure. It hurt so much.

The directive. Protocol. Orders. Make the pain go away.

A thousand birds all screaming in anger, a thousand birds crying in grief.

His arm was wet again. Wet and warm all the way to his elbow.

A body was crumpled on the ground. Images overlaid each other. Blonde, blonde, always blonde. Always dead. Always bloody.

Yes. Directive completed. The static wasn’t drowning him anymore.

He turned away, finding the cloaked person was watching him from afar.

Not an enemy. Not an ally. He could feel water lapping at his shoulders, he could see hands held out towards him. Safety. Comfort.

“Sasuke.” They said to him.

He tilted his head as he stared at them, trying to remember. No name came to mind, no orders. Only a sense of… being quite small. Being carried.

Definitely not an enemy.

Red and Black Eyed Person approached slowly. They reached into their cloak and pulled out a cloth. They were too close but the static stayed calm around him.

Hands folded over his own, the cloth gently wiped the blood away. He let it happen.

“Sasuke… what happened?”

He let his eyes shut without answering. This felt familiar, the cleaning. They must be an ally. It was okay.

He killed Naruto. He couldn’t remember what to do after that.

“Sasuke. Come with me.”

He felt arms folding under him, lifting him off his feet.

Floating again. Familiar arms. Yes, this was okay.

He couldn’t remember his next set of orders.

The static dragged him under, more gently than it ever had before.

“Sasori and Deidara are dead.”

“And Itachi?”

“In the wind. No sign.”

Pein sighed. He supposed Sasori had warned him this would happen.

“Double the price on both their heads. Note that they travel in a pair.”

Tsunade wordlessly slid the book across her desk. Kakashi picked it up and scanned the pages. His eyes paused when he reached the updated entry.

His hands gripped the book so hard that the binding creaked.

“I have to admit, I’m not sure how to proceed. There’s too many levels of betrayal here to make sense of anything.” Tsunade sighed and looked away.

“The Akatsuki is offering to pay much more for both their heads than we can offer. I’m calling off Kononha ninja. The whole situation is too dangerous. You see them, you disappear without letting them see you. No engaging.”

Kakashi turned and left her office wordlessly. She wasn’t sure he even heard a word she said.

But she felt certain that even if he had, his choices were beyond her influence at this point.

He was eating. He paused, the food in his mouth growing colder. He didn’t remember when he started eating.

The food was. Food. Nothing to notice. Static stole the taste away long ago.

He chewed twice more and swallowed.

Where?…

A pale hand pushed his bowl closer. His eyes followed the hand, up to an equally pale face. Black eyes.

“Eat some more Sasuke.”

It didn’t sound like an order. The static was at his knees, below the table. Brushing back and forth, making him want to sway with it. Peaceful, not drowning him.

Not an order.

But he… wanted to obey. He opened his mouth and put more food inside. Chewed and swallowed.

Yes that felt right. The static stayed where it was. He wondered if they could feel it too, flooding the room.

Something was humming in the back of his head.

Metal below him again. Covered in thin paper.

So achingly familiar.

But there’s new voices. He turned his head, the Red and Black Cloak Person was speaking with a White Lab Coat Person.

“—confused? It’s like he is sleepwalking.” Black eyes turned his way and widened. “Look! He’s back now!”

A tan hand tipped his chin back. White Lab Coat shone a light into his eyes. “Follow my finger with your eyes, don’t move your chin.”

Cloak Person scowled. “He’s not concussed. He can always follow instructions. It’s more like he has episodes of awareness, not the other way.”

White Coat Person hummed. “I want to take some scans, you’ll need to tell me more background information about where he’s been…”

He let his mind drift. That tone. He knew that tone. They were going to—

A metal tray, glass needles rolling on top as it moved. Straps across his wrists and chest.

Crack open an egg. Use tools.

Crack open a rock. Throw it hard on the ground.

Lose the body in the waves, forget all the edges.

No. He wouldn’t wait around to feel the pain again.

For the first time, he imagined himself walking deeper into the static. Shins to hips to chest. Lapping at his chin, splashing at his cheekbones.

It closed over his head and felt like mercy.

In the moment before his vision left, a pale hand brushed across his face. He couldn’t feel it. A face pushed close to his, twisted with worry. Watery black eyes.

How strange.

He exhaled into the static and it took him deeper.

“—catastrophic loss of grey matter… —extensive damage… —unsure.”

“—options?”

“—deterioration… Hospice.”

His head was on someone’s lap. A hand stroked his hair. Their gentle fingers touched his forehead, tracing his eyebrows and his closed eyelids.

The voice was like static, like a warm blanket.

He felt his mouth move. A smile? Strange.

The hand paused and then continued moving as before.

“He’s back.”

“Don’t push him to awareness, it’ll only cause confusion.”

It was easy to feel their breath stutter because one of his ears was pressed to their stomach. But the hand never stopped moving. Nice, comforting.

Yes, this was right. He was where he wanted to be. It felt good.

He was showing his teeth now. The muscles in his cheeks hurt, he hadn’t done this for a long time. The person took another deep gasp and their stomach spasmed.

“—to sleep Sasuke. It’s okay, just rest.”

The fingers tracing his eyelids shook, the tremors were easy to feel through the thin skin.

Not an order but he would obey.

The static felt so warm, like a bath. Milky soap and gentle light upon the walls. Cupped hands pouring water over his head.

He felt the static flood the spaces between his teeth and thought maybe he finally learned the right way to drown.

Nothing hurt.

“The trail is completely cold.”

“Would an increase of funds change that?”

“No. I genuinely think there’s nothing to find. You can’t buy information that doesn’t exist.”

Pein sighed, turning his back on Konan. It was incredibly bad luck that the Akatsuki’s best tracker was the one they had to chase down.

The Uchiha brothers had effectively vanished.

“And Orochimaru? How does he tie in?”

“It’s not clear yet. He ordered the death of Uzumaki Naruto but hasn’t pursued any other Tailed Demons since. We can assume he is not working with Itachi though, they have negative history.”

“This entire situation is needlessly complicated,” Pein muttered. He should’ve killed that snake years ago.

Hands were gripping his shoulders. They shook him lightly. His eyes focused on the face leaning down in front of him.

Red and black eyes.

“Sasuke?” The eyes flicked back and forth between his own. “Okay… seems lucid.”

He didn’t understand what they meant with their muttering but the voice felt familiar. It was nice to listen.

“I have to leave for a little while. I’ll be back, okay? Don’t leave this room.” A hand pointed to the table. “There’s food there. Eat it and sleep for a while.”

The bed did look soft. He drifted over to it and laid down on top of the covers.

No. Too quiet. He turned over, facing the Cloak Person. They were still watching him. He raised a hand and patted the blankets next to himself.

He wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking for but it felt okay. He wasn’t afraid.

They walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed. They raised a hand and rubbed gently at his forehead. It helped ease the ache in his skull, he hadn’t noticed it was so bad until it began improving.

“Okay Sasuke.” His eyes closed as they started speaking. Their voice was deep and calm, he felt safe.

“I’ll leave once you’re asleep.”

There was someone in his space. A stranger.

The kunai he tried to slam into the back of their skull was deflected skillfully. His arm ached from the force of it, the knife flying from his hand as his grip loosened with surprise.

He dropped low to the floor, sweeping a foot out to trip them. They simply jumped over his leg, planting one foot on his shoulder and shoving him backwards.

He rolled with the force and came back upright on one knee, a knife in each hand and his eyes stinging from chakra he was pumping into them. His vision was clearer now, the details no longer lost to the dimly lit room.

The intruder had dark hair streaked with grey, a jagged uneven cut much longer on one side than the other. Their simple pants and shirt were stained with ash, they reeked of smoke. Blood was caked under their fingernails and in the lines of their hands.

Oh. Huh.

They were facing him, standing stiffly with their palms held out. Not holding weapons. Not coming closer. Trying to talk.

“—look different, but please listen Sasuke, please calm down.”

He knew that voice. He straightened and stood from his crouch, examining the person with a titled head. Red and Black Cloak person, just not wearing their cloak.

He took a few steps closer and waved his hand so they would lean down. Now their face was clearer.

Ah okay. Red and Black Eyes. Safe. Not an intruder or an enemy.

His eyes flicked over them. Where was their cloak? Why was their hair different?

“What happened?” He asked quietly. It hurt his throat to talk.

They let out a long breath and shook their head. Ash drifted down to the floor as they moved.

“I had to take care of one last thing. Now we can focus on you.”

He raised a hand and touched the long side of their hair. The ends were singed and frayed. It made his chest feel strange to see it. Like he ate sand instead of food, too heavy and achy.

A filthy hand lifted and grabbed his own, gently pushing it back down to hang at his side.

“Don’t be sad. It’s just hair. I’m okay.”

Their deep voice was scratchy. Probably from smoke, he realized. Quickly, he turned and grabbed a bottle of water from the stockpile on the table. He opened the lid and brought it back to them. They smiled as they accepted and drank without pause.

“We should… fix that,” he spoke slowly. He didn’t know his orders. Couldn’t remember the last time Yellow Eyes had drilled them under the bones of his skull. He didn’t know if this suggestion went against orders or not.

“A haircut? Sure. Let’s do yours too.” They raised a hand, so so slowly, and picked up a strand of his hair. It nearly reached his collarbone. “We can match.”

He wasn’t feeling any pain so it must be okay. He nodded in agreement.

“Why don’t you explain it to me?”

He was sitting on the floor of… he looked around. A bathroom? He didn’t know his location beyond that, what city or country he was in. But he was sitting on the bathroom floor, Red and Black Eyes Person was behind him, combing through his shortened hair with gentle fingers.

“Explain what?”

“Where you go when you’re quiet.”

Oh. He wasn’t sure Yellow Eyes Person had ever asked. Neither had Grey Hair with Glasses Person. He was functional, that was all that mattered.

“The static. I think it’s like the ocean. I float, drift. Sometimes I sink.” His eyebrows pulled together. Something tight and unpleasant was spreading through his chest.

“It is… very hungry.”

“Are you being eaten when you’re not here?”

He turned to look at them. Their eyes had dark shadows below, as if they hadn’t slept peacefully for a very long time.

Somehow he knew that his answer would keep them from sleeping too. Haunt them. He didn’t know why that bothered him.

The phantom teeth of chakra raked down the sides of his head. Unrelenting.

“I’m always being eaten.”

The metal exam table. The same White Lab Coat Person. Maybe they were preparing to give him new orders after all. Crack him open and write it on the back of his eyeballs like before.

“—all I could recover.” A pale hand held out a leather bag. They opened it and—

Oh he was right.

The Grey Notebook was here. Piles of papers with familiar handwriting. The edges of the paper curled with his own blood, the writer always too impatient to wipe clean their hands before making notes.

New orders.

“—no chance of more?”

“The rest is ash.”

“The scientist?”

“Ash.”

“Crows flying over funeral pyres,” he muttered quietly to himself. The static was tickling the bottom of his nose. He knew it was waiting to drown him, to rush in and crash against the borders of his skull. Wear him down like a stone in the the tide.

“Crows flying over funeral pyres,” he repeated. His eyes shut. All he saw anyway was blue.

Sky blue or electric blue or blue like a roll of silk or blue like bloodless lips.

He wondered what the orders would steal from him this time. He couldn’t remember what they took last time, only the pain that remained to tell him that he was missing something vital.

A thousand birds, sitting silently on a wire. A thousand birds who screamed their anguish until they coughed blood and no one ever heard.

A thousand birds lost in the blue sky, drowning in the static.

“—SASUKE!”

Hands were shaking him. The static was writhing behind his eyes, leaking out of him.

He opened his eyes and wondered what color they were. He couldn’t remember what his face looked like.

He didn’t know what made a person a person anymore, only that he surely didn’t meet the requirements.

“Whoever you think you’re calling for,” he met their two colored gaze. “They’re long dead.”

The hands dropped him, snatched back as if burned.

He was tired. He was ready for them to direct the static if only so he could stop resisting.

“What are my orders?”

“Orochimaru is dead. Half of Oto farmland is burned flat. There’s a deep crater that no one can explain away in the middle of their grassland.”

“Good fucking riddance.”

“Agreed.”

“Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

He was staring out the window at the sky. The clouds were glowing golden, as if they couldn’t decide between sun and rain.

His fingertips tingled, the static rubbing along the edges like a friendly cat.

“I think I like the ocean.”

They had to keep a low profile. Itachi was decently sure that no one could intercept them, if only because nothing he had done recently had been predictable.

So he didn’t have to worry about walking into a trap, only staying below the radar. Their haircuts and civilian clothes were helpful in that aspect. Luckily for them, black hair and black eyes weren’t overly memorable.

He plotted a path that had them creeping up the coastline of Kiri, staying in tiny fishing villages.

They were nearing one when Sasuke stumbled. Itachi looked back at him and found the boy staring down the road with his head tipped to the side. His brain might’ve been torn to shreds and poorly pieced back together, but his brother was still an exceptional ninja. Deidara’s smoking corpse was evidence of that.

Itachi spread his feet slightly, letting one hand drift towards his hidden kunai.

“Is someone coming?” He asked calmly, keeping his voice low.

“I don’t think so.” Sasuke sounded calm and disinterested.

Itachi held in the urge to sigh. He was learning to be more patient, to not let his temper fray or snap at his brother.

“Okay Sasuke. Let’s keep going then.”

The boy didn’t reply, simply walking past Itachi as if the conversation had never happened.

But he could see his brother’s head jerking to the side as they entered the town, his dark eyes chasing shadows that he couldn’t see. It was eerie. Itachi decided it would be better to pass through this town if it was so disagreeable to Sasuke. They'd rent a room in the next one. No big deal.

A bridge stood at the edge of town, they’d have to walk across it to leave the area. Itachi saw some big plaque off to the side but wasn’t interested in stopping to read it.

They were halfway across the bridge when Sasuke stopped walking. Itachi could see his hands twitch in the way they did now when his mind was doing whatever terrible thing Orochimaru had forced it to do.

Sasuke pivoted and walked to the edge of the bridge, sitting down at the edge and letting his legs dangle through the bars of the railing. His feet swung back and forth.

He looked young. He looked his age.

It made Itachi want to burn it all down again, just knowing how much was stolen from Sasuke. The years, the freedom. The joy.

Sasuke turned his head to the side with a wide smile.

“It’s still standing after all!” He pointed into the water below. “Hey moron, there’s even dolphins at your stupid bridge.”

There was no one sitting in the space Sasuke was speaking to. His eyes were unfocused, cloudy but joyful. He looked drunk.

Itachi walked quietly to the railing, sitting down at Sasuke’s side.

“Who are you talking to?”

Sasuke turned to face him. His smile melted away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Itachi could see his hands shaking again, could hear his breath catch in his chest.

“Sasuke, who are you talking to?”

“I don’t remember.” His eyes were darting around now, unable to focus an anything. “I want to leave. It hurts, I want to leave.”

Itachi stood up quickly and grabbed Sasuke’s arm, yanking him back to his feet. He held on and started walking towards the end of the bridge.

“It’s alright, we’re leaving Sasuke. Nothing is here to hurt you, you’re safe.”

Sasuke didn’t answer him, but his grip on Itachi’s arm also didn’t loosen for hours afterwards.

There was sand under his feet. Stuck between his toes. Little grey spots all over his skin.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

Someone with dark hair was sitting next to him. They smelled like the ocean. Salt and wet sand. His own clothes felt damp.

They must’ve gone swimming. That’s nice.

Their face turned towards him when he didn’t answer their quiet question. Red and black eyes calmly met his own.

Oh. Something was twisting hard inside his head.

Their hair was short, spiked and twisted from the salt dried into it. A small kind smile made its way to their face and the twisting clicked into place.

“You look just like my cousin.”

Their smile wavered at the edges. They turned back to face the water.

“Is that right?” They laid down on the sand, letting their eyes close. “Tell me about your cousin.”

“He had a very nice smile… They forgot to take him.” He whispered. “The static lets me see what they forgot sometimes.”

“Is the static bad?”

What a strange question. He grabbed a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers onto their shirt. They huffed in annoyance but didn’t move to stop him.

“The ocean isn’t good or bad. People drown and people swim.” He turned to look at the waves, kin to the static that was hovering at his elbows. It seemed overjoyed to be reunited with its inspiration. “The static is the same. Directionless power.”

“You don’t hate it?”

“I don’t remember anything different.”

He laid back next to them and closed his eyes. The sunshine leaked pleasantly through his closed eyelids. It was warm. He felt safe.

The static swirled in happy eddies around his ribcage. He could float away, he could join all the birds in the sky.

As if sensing his thoughts, a cold hand curled around his own. A gentle squeeze around his fingers, his scars pressed against their matching ones.

A little anchor. A gold chain on a bird’s leg. A desperate hope for more, a wordless prayer. It made him a little sad, knowing it wouldn’t work for much longer.

He wasn’t sure how he knew.

Itachi turned his head left and right in the mirror. He raised a hand and ruffled his hair. He couldn’t remember it ever being this short. Even as a child, it was long.

Sasuke was right. Looking in the mirror, it was exactly like seeing a ghost.

He wasn’t sure most days, whether he should be happy for this second chance with Sasuke or angry that his brother didn’t even remember his name.

Itachi ran his hands under the sink and leaned over the basin, raising a palm full of water to swish. His teeth had blood on them. He couldn’t let Sasuke see. Couldn’t let him know of his illness, not when his brother was already so fragile.

Itachi straightened up and met his own eyes in the reflection. Water dripped off his face, the soft patters were the only sound filling the otherwise silent room. He missed Shisui. He missed Sasuke.

“This feels familiar!” He had to speak loudly to be heard over the roar of the waves around them.

The hands holding his own tightened. He was too scared to swim alone in the ocean today. The static was up to his neck, leaving him dizzy and tired.

But the water had looked so nice, sparkling under the hot sun. Irresistible. So he waded in, and the moment he froze in uncertainty, a pair of hands were held out towards him.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world, to grab onto those hands and trust they’d keep him afloat.

He looked past the hands, up the scarred arms to a kind face aiming a soft smile his way. Two pairs of black eyes met above the waves and for a moment it was peaceful.

His landlady was an unexpected ally.

Itachi had very little experience with the finer details of civilian life. He lived on Uchiha land in the beginning of his life. Then it was either sleeping outdoors as he traveled or renting a hotel room for a single night. His assigned space in Akatsuki headquarters was just his, no paperwork or rent.

So he was a bit unpracticed with how everything was done.

This was made clear once again by the presence of an elderly woman knocking on his door. Shit. He forgot to pay his rent this month, again.

He had the money, that wasn’t the issue. He just wasn’t used to having to pay once a month for the space he slept in. He was so busy with Sasuke, with hiding, with his illness, that he forgot every time.

Luckily, she was kind.

He waved her inside and put a pot of water on the stove to boil. He may as well serve her tea if she was here. She was a good source of local information.

If there were whispers of ninjas combing the area, she would know.

Sasuke was already sitting at the table. His gaze was faraway, as it was a majority of the time. His little brother was getting worse in the last few weeks. He would follow simple instructions but most things passed over him like wind. He was losing weight as well.

The woman smiled gently at his brother and patted his hand. Sasuke turned his head in her direction, passed his eyes over her, and looked away. Just confirming she wasn’t a threat and dismissing her.

He was turned away, stirring the tea leaves into the water when she spoke.

“It’s hard isn’t it?”

“What is?” He looked over his shoulder, her face was unusually sorrowful. She was staring at Sasuke.

“It’s hard, missing someone who is right next to you.” Her milky eyes made their way back to meet his own. “My husband’s mind was this bad towards the end of his life. But we had many years together first.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old photograph, heavily creased. Itachi assumed it was of her husband, but he didn’t particularly want to check. Her eyes met his own again.

“You’re doing your best, young man. I’m sorry you couldn’t get more time.”

She pushed herself to stand up, reaching for the envelope on the table with her rent money. She counted out half the money and left the rest on the table.

“Whatever you two are running from won’t find you here. If it is any comfort… you’ve found a peaceful spot to make your last memories together.” She limped slowly to their front door, opening it to let herself out. Itachi was still frozen, standing in front of a pot of over-brewed tea.

“I’ll see you next month, child. Both of you, I hope.” The door clicked shut gently behind her.

“Three birds… A bird family.” His hand pointed up at the small dark spots moving in a group around the fluffy clouds.

“That’s right.” A hand pulled his down so it was hanging at his side again. The static was hovering above his head today. The world was fuzzy, the light fractured and sounds echoing strangely.

His hand got held a lot on those days.

“Three is a good number. We are missing one.”

“That’s right,” they repeated. Their voice was scratchy and choked. Strange.

He was tired. The hand wrapped around his own felt safe.

He would let the tide hush him to sleep.

Itachi woke up to a hand gently rubbing at his shoulder. He cracked open his eyes slowly, anticipating the screaming headache that wouldn’t leave. Taking a decent breath was more difficult with each passing day.

Sasuke was standing at his bedside, his eyebrows twisted with worry and a sad tilt to his mouth. Itachi didn’t have time to ask why his brother had woken him up before the boy was leaning over him, shoving a pillow behind his back to prop him upright.

With that finished, he left the room. After a moment, he came back carrying a steaming mug. With surprising patience, he ensured Itachi had a good grip of the cup before letting it go.

“What is this Sasuke?” He could see it was a tea of some sort, but didn’t recognize the smell.

“Elderflower tea. Good for your lungs.” Sasuke sat down on his bed, folding his legs and getting comfortable.

So, he clearly wouldn’t leave until Itachi finished drinking the medicine. Where he had even purchased it was a mystery. Itachi fought the urge to smile at the display, feeling warm to his core.

“Thank you Sasuke,” he said quietly, his throat aching as he spoke. He tried a sip of the tea and found it lightly sweetened with honey. Exactly the way he liked it.

“You’ve been sick for a while, haven’t you?”

It was a wildly astute observation coming from someone who seemed to only have bare minutes of lucidity each day recently. But Itachi wasn’t surprised, Sasuke had always been exceptional in his eyes. Of course his brother had noticed, despite his efforts to hide his difficulties.

He sipped at his tea and said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them.

“I don’t like when you’re sick… even though I don’t understand why.”

And Itachi felt his entire chest ache at the reminder. The young man sitting cross legged on his bed was the same as the tiny child who had curled up on his bed years ago. The same little boy who cried because Itachi had the flu and he was scared when his big brother couldn’t stand up or stop coughing.

He reached a weak hand out and let it rest stop Sasuke’s head, lightly ruffling the short black strands.

“I won’t leave you.”

The same promise, made years apart. He still meant it just as much.

The static was everywhere. It had been so long since he surfaced. He could feel his hair floating in the current, his entire body covered and being pressed upon.

The room was blurry. Nothing had a smell anymore.

“I am tired.” His voice was distant, echoing in his own ears.

There was a hand on his face. It felt nice, so he leaned into it.

“That’s okay.”

“I can rest?”

The hand on his face stroked over his cheek, down past his ear and back again. A finger traced a tiny line across his closed eyelids.

“You can rest Sasuke. I’ll stay with you.”

He tipped forward until his head leaned against their chest. The tiny movements of their heartbeat and their breathing… it was pleasant. Peaceful. Reassuring.

He felt safe.

This was the best place to rest, he decided, and didn’t notice his hold on the world loosen. The static swept him away one last time.

Two stones perched atop a low hill overlooking the water. So close they nearly touched, the stones were surrounded by fresh spring blossoms.

The dirt had barely settled in front of the first gravestone before it was dug up again, a second stone added. The pair were inseparable even in death.

Every now and then, she liked to visit and leave something. For the younger, seashells. For the elder, flowers and colorful stones.

She put a hand atop each stone, wrinkled skin looking especially delicate atop the rock.

“I don’t think I’ll take any more tenants. I won’t like them as much as you two.” She spoke quietly. The wind whipped away her words but she wasn’t bothered by it. She let her hands fall from the stones.

“I’m afraid this will be my last time here. It’s too hard to climb the hill these days. Bad hips… I’m sure you understand.” She stepped backwards, eyes once again scanning the words carved into the rock. It had been the last thing she could do for them, for the boys she’d grown fond of during their year under her roof.

Beneath their first names, the only ones they ever told her, they shared the same two words.