Chapter Text
“Are we there yet?” A young voice softly whispered on his shoulders. Small hands gently yet firmly found their place in Sasuke’s bangs, pulling at his hair with each step.
“No,” Sasuke said bluntly. He held the child’s legs tightly as he jumped over the small creek.
They were in the backwoods of the Land of Grass, surrounded by dense forests, tall grasses, and hidden streams. The scenery was beautiful, one of the most beautiful places Sasuke had seen. And, as someone who’s traveled every corner of the world, it said something.
Yet, there were only so many times Sasuke could lazily look up at a tree canopy and watch the sun filter through or lay in the clear waters without a care. Not because he had a place to go, but because he had someone to watch out for.
A child, Sasuke has realized, is easily missable in a field of tall grass.
He’d lost Michinaga several times since they crossed the border into the Land of Grass. The river reeds often overtook his small stature, making him virtually invisible when reaching a water bed.
After Michinaga fell into a particularly deep stream of water, Sasuke sat the child on his shoulders where he’s been residing ever since.
The child laid his head onto Sasuke’s, holding onto his ears for stability. “Nii-san?”
“Yes?”
“Are you cold?”
Sasuke stopped on a branch. He readjusted his grip on the boy’s bare legs when he noticed the boy was warm. For someone who naturally ran extremely hot, warm meant very cold.
“I’m going to put you down,” Sasuke warned before bowing down and letting the child roll off his shoulders.
There, a boy no taller than his hip stood. His long hair was tied up from the wind beating around so much and his cheeks red from the speed Sasuke ran. He wore a robe embroidered with his crest on the back. It was shotty stitch work but with only one hand, it was the best Sasuke could do.
Michinaga was an Uchiha, after all. It’s his right to wear it and wear it with pride.
Granted, the spinning mangekyo sharingan in the child's eyes probably did the trick enough. It was a rare sight and an even rarer occurrence-- a child as young as he to have Uchiha's clan's most prized eyes, but call Sasuke prideful. The last time he had someone of his own blood wear his crest in front of him was the day Madara killed him.
“Nii-san?” the boy whispered, looking up at Sasuke.
“Hold this,” Sasuke said, draping his cloak over the boy’s shoulders. The boy obediently held both sides as Sasuke tied it closed with his hand and teeth. “Better?”
Michinaga flapped his arms before burrowing under the heavy fabric. He gave a smile and a nod. The mangekyo sharingan lazily spun in his eyes. “Thank you.”
Sasuke pulled up the hood, exposing the Uchiha crest on the back. “Ready?”
“Mm!” The boy reached for Sasuke’s hand and clung to his side.
Sasuke froze at the initial touch but quickly brushed it off. It amazed Sasuke how much the boy cared for him. Which was hypocritical seeing how much Sasuke cared for him.
“Let’s go,” Sasuke gently urged, trying to hide the odd smile on his face.
~
The several hours were spent traversing through the Grass Land. With Sasuke’s tight grip on the boy and the boy so practically glued to him, neither lost each other. The boy was always with him. The boy was always safe.
This should have been the first sign.
“Michi, are you tired?” Sasuke asked, squeezing the boy's hand a few times.
It was nearing sunrise and their pace considerably slowed in the past hour which, given how far they’ve walked, wasn’t too surprising. Sasuke was 20 years old and an experienced shinobi. Michinaga was a small, fragile three-year-old.
“No,” Michi yawned. He had Sasuke’s cloak tight around his arms, leaning heavily on his leg.
“Tired my ass,” Sasuke mumbled.
He stopped nonetheless and picked the boy up. Of his mental map, they were close the Hidden Grass Village, dead-center in the Land of Grass. Actually, now that he thought about it, they were close to the Land of Fire. Still a bit of a distance from Konoha, they were close enough for that place to pop up in his head.
“I’m not tired, Nii-san,” Michi protested, snuggling against Sasuke’s neck.
“Hn.”
Sasuke found a clearing surrounded by trees. He set down his bag and gently rested Michi beside it. The kid was already asleep.
Sasuke resisted the slight upturn of his lips as he began setting up camp. Because they only traveled at night (most definitely not because of Sasuke’s paranoia), they had no need for a fire. Michinaga’s eyes plus Sasuke’s cloak would keep him warm enough.
Though, speaking of his eyes…
“Michi, let me see your mark,” Sasuke said, sitting beside the boy. They traveled light, so Michi’s bed was but big leaves, spare clothing, and, again, Sasuke’s cloak.
The kid didn’t stir. Sasuke gently shook him and repeated his name, “Michi.”
“Huh?” He awoke. He blinked the surface sleep from his swirling, red eyes. “Nii-san? Are we there yet?”
Sasuke simpered. “We stopped walking ten minutes ago.”
“Oh,” the boy blushed.
“Let me see your mark,” Sasuke said again. “How are you feeling?”
Michi untangled his arm from the depths of his makeshift blanket and held it out for Sasuke. A horribly familiar curse mark sat ugly and burnt on his wrist. It looked exactly like Sasuke’s when he was a kid, only Orochimaru didn’t place this one.
Sasuke did.
Sasuke never placed a curse mark before, but he knew how to from his old master’s teachings. Orochimaru was a horrible man, but a genius of knowledge. There was no refuting that. Still, Sasuke’s lack of expertise showed when his mark burned more than sealed Michi’s chakra.
It was a horrible night when Sasuke placed it. Endless apologies and a sea’s worth of guilt, Michi’s cries felt like swords to the stomach. He was in pain, and it was Sasuke’s fault.
The curse mark eventually healed into the three distorted tomoe it is now. Still ugly, it was a necessary evil. Michinaga had abnormally high levels of chakra. Chakra so over-abundant that it ate the body from the inside out.
Sasuke remembered the old days Michi couldn’t sleep. Days his fevers would become life-threatening. Days water turned to sweat as fast as dirt to mud. Michi’s high chakra levels constantly fueled his mangekyo, making it so the dojutsu could never turn off. And, as Sasuke’s past experiences have taught, overuse of the mangekyo sharingan has severe consequences.
The curse mark became his only solution. It acted like life a siffen, tunneling Michi’s excess chakra to Sasuke whose reserves could handle the high levels while keeping enough for the boy the normally function.
There was only one caveat: activation.
Sasuke had to activate the curse mark whenever Michi’s chakra levels got too high which was far too often. To counteract it, Sasuke would take more chakra than normal to extend the amount of time Michi’s body needed to reach danger levels again. It wasn’t healthy or good for either of their bodies, but it was what Sasuke could do to keep Michi alive.
“It’s itchy,” Michi mumbled. He watched with tired eyes as Sasuke gently touched the mark.
“You don’t have too high of chakra levels right now.” Sasuke put his hand to the boy’s forehead. “Are you hot?”
He shook his head. “Jus’ tired.”
At that, Sasuke let out a smile. “Okay. Go to sleep. I’ll rework the mark tomorrow.”
“Mmm,” the boy hummed, worming his way onto Sasuke’s lap. “Can you tell me a story?”
“About?” The boy shrugged. Sasuke sighed. Stories? He had many. Stories suited for children’s ears? Minimal. Stories that put Sasuke not directly in the villain’s shoes? Hah… funny.
Sasuke reminisced his entire life. Typically when Michinaga asked for a story, Sasuke would pick one that related to their clan. Not only were those always safe and clean, but they also gave Michi insight into his family.
He’d tell the kid stories Sasuke grew up with; stories that were passed down through generations; old war stories reinvisioned as bedtime ones; stories of great Uchiha battles and legendary Uchiha heroes…
Sasuke smiled. “Alright, I have one. Are you ready?”
“Mm!”
“Good.” Sasuke found himself lying on the grass also. The tree canopy blocked the sun yet left enough room to see the sky change colors. The air started to get warmed and the breeze a bit more gentler. With the soft grass under him and Michinaga safety tucked beside him, Sasuke started his story softly.
“There was a great ninja in our clan. His abilities and sharingan powers were known everywhere in the world. He was fast. Faster than the Fourth Hokage. His skill was beyond many ninja both in and out of the Uchiha. His nickname was Shisui the Teleporter…”
The story about Shisui’s great fight in the Land of Mist trailed on until the sun was firmly set in the sky and Michi’s snores blended with the morning birds. Only then did Sasuke stop, only then when he rolled over with the boy safely in his arms…
Only then did Sasuke fall asleep too.