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The dawn light penetrated the thin curtains of the Uchiha couple's room. Sasuke had been awake for some time because this day was especially significant for him, and he couldn't even sleep at night.
It was the anniversary of his death.
The dark-haired man glanced briefly at his wife, seeing her naked back with the thin sheet partially covering her. He observed the marks on her exposed skin and allowed himself a tiny smile, remembering the previous night when they reunited after his return to the village.
He got out of bed quietly, not to wake her up. Besides the warm night, Sakura had faced a long 36-hour shift at the Konoha hospital and was exhausted. She was finally resting, and Sasuke was determined not to disturb her, even if he had to leave the apartment.
He slowly removed the sheet from himself and sat on the bed, feeling tense and with a hesitant heart. The woman moved in bed, turned to his side, and stole the pillow that had been lying there, hugging it tightly. Sasuke observed her for a few seconds, reflecting on the internal struggle between lying down with her or going to that place.
During the reconstruction of Konoha after the great Fourth Ninja War, Kakashi, Naruto, and Sakura decided to preserve the Uchiha district. Not the houses, already corrupted by the putrid past, but the wooded area, where a simple memorial for his family had been built. Sasuke knew that during his absence, Sakura would go to the place to light incense and leave flowers in respect to her relatives, and now it was his turn to light incense for Itachi.
He decided to follow his plan and got out of bed, shaking his head. He walked to the armchair where his clothes were scattered and dressed slowly, patiently. Initially, when he had lost an arm, routine tasks like that were annoying, but now he was accustomed to his condition and even preferred it.
The loss of his arm symbolized the abandonment of a Sasuke corrupted by the Uchiha curse of hatred. Since that day at the Valley of the End, he had begun a new phase in his life, becoming a new man, worthy of Team 7 and his brother's love. Itachi had told him the last time they met that he would always love him, even after everything he had done. Still, Itachi forgave him, and that allowed him to move forward.
He put on the black cloak and decided to leave his katana at home since it wouldn't be useful at the Uchiha memorial. No one dared to go to that place, not even Sasuke, as it was the first time after his brother's death that he allowed himself to visit the memorial.
The house was silent, and Sasuke left the room without making any noise, walked calmly to his daughter's room, opened the door, and watched her sleep peacefully. She was his pride and hope that the legacy of his family would never be forgotten. Sasuke hoped that the girl would not go through the same sufferings he had lived through, that she would never have to encounter the same demons that had crossed his path and ruined him.
He closed his eyes and rested his head on the doorframe when memories invaded his mind.
Before Itachi left for his daily training, he had promised his younger brother that he would return early and play with him. Sasuke had arranged his toys and waited patiently for his brother, sitting on the house's porch all afternoon. When night fell, his mother, Mikoto, forced him to come inside, and he understood with disappointment that his brother would not return so soon.
After training, Itachi returned home exhausted from the intensive use of chakra in exercises. At the entrance, he saw one of Sasuke's toys lying on the ground and closed his eyes frustrated, remembering another broken promise to Sasuke.
He walked to his brother's room and leaned on the doorframe to watch him. The young Uchiha was lying on the bed with the sheet wrapped around him, softly snoring, indicating a peaceful sleep. Before lying down, Itachi remained there for a moment, watching the younger one sleep, feeling foolish for not providing the brother with all the love and attention he wanted, deserved, and needed.
Sasuke shook his head, moving away from his daughter's room. That night, even though Itachi never found out, he pretended to be asleep. Sasuke waited for his brother until after his usual time, but he was so angry that Itachi had broken another promise that he didn't greet him that night, let alone tell him about it later.
Sasuke walked out of the apartment, closed the door, and gave a faint smile, remembering why they were sleeping there in the first place. According to his daughter, Sakura had destroyed the old house with just one punch in a fit of rage.
Sasuke smiled with the certainty that at least some things never changed. However, as he began walking through the village, the smile faded, giving way to the usual mask of indifference.
There were few people circulating in the streets, but he felt analytical glances on him, many of them fearful, others suspicious. He closed his eyes, ignoring everyone, and continued on his way. He was already used to being the target of such looks, whether from civilians or ninjas, and deep down, he no longer cared, as he had become familiar with that treatment since he became "the surviving boy of the massacre" when he was still young.
There was only one person in the entire shinobi world that he couldn't stand being looked at in that way, with that same suspicion and fear. And that person was Sarada because, to Sasuke, the girl was his own embodiment of hope and redemption.
The sound of a child's laughter caught his attention, making him look in the direction of a boy carrying his younger brother on his back. The younger one cried and grumbled while the older one smiled, trying to calm him down. The scene made his throat tighten, and his steps quickened.
Sasuke needed to get away.
Breathing deeply and fighting against his conflicting emotions, he reached the memorial. He observed the large stone from a distance, feeling his heart race, irregular breathing, and cold sweat on his hand. He walked slowly to the Uchiha monument, and with each step, a memory surfaced, especially the good ones that, during his hatred phase, he had fervently wished to forget.
Itachi stroking his head.
Itachi skipping classes to spend time with him.
Itachi taking care of him when he got hurt.
The loving and warm hug from Mikoto.
Sasuke sat in front of the stone in silence. If he had known the truth before letting himself be carried away by Orochimaru's speech and blind hatred promoted by his brother, would everything still have ended the same way? Was there any way to save his brother at that time?
Death is harder for those who stay, dealing with suffocating longing and painful memories every day.
In a moment, his parents and his brother were with him, a family like any other in that district, with highs and lows but still united. In the next moment, when he least expected it, death came like a thief, stealthy and fast, leaving only Sasuke alone and tearful, seeing his parents' cold bodies on the ground and his only hero demonized in front of him.
No one escapes death, whether rich or poor, intelligent or foolish, man or
woman. Death always comes, taking away those you always wanted to keep by your side.
Sasuke lowered his head slightly, in a silent scream of pain, letting the tears finally roll down his eyes.
He remembered the pleasure he felt when he finally faced Itachi and thought he had killed him only in that first fight. And now, he only felt pain for what had happened. The weight of guilt fell on his shoulders, and the tears intensified, even if he remained silent.
He had been so wrong; for years, he had pursued a goal that slowly destroyed him and still did.
There are those who choose to leave, guided by their pains and internal demons, often just empty shells. Simply surviving day by day until they reach their limits of suffering and finally commit suicide. Everyone questions the reason, why such a decision, as if someone had the answer or understood and could measure the pain of others. As if death had only one cause.
A light rain began to fall on him, but Sasuke didn't care. He closed his eyes and let himself be wet, cleansing his soul.
There are those who leave without us wanting them to. They just go. Their lives are interrupted by unexpected events, usually involving other people. The pain in these cases is worse. Death is not the answer for these people. It creates doubt in others. In those who stayed. And it destroys.
Death is an abrupt interruption, an unrelenting evil that Sasuke would never be able to understand.
He felt when the rain stopped falling on his face, opened his eyes confused. Sarada was standing beside him, holding an umbrella, her face maintaining a neutral expression. She resembled so much of him that it sometimes impressed him. She sat silently next to him, and Sasuke took the umbrella from her hand and held it.
They didn't speak at any moment.
Sarada closed her eyes and began to pray to Kami, which surprised Sasuke. He watched her with some adoration, and when she finished the prayer, she leaned her head on her father's shoulder quietly.
They didn't need words, not in that moment. They understood each other in that way, and for Sasuke, it was perfect like that.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but the rain had already stopped, and they continued to stay there. Sasuke, immersed in memories and thoughts, and Sarada, respecting his moment of pain.
"Sarada," the dark-haired man adjusted and looked attentively at his daughter, "Do you want to hear about the last farewell I gave to your uncle?"
The younger Uchiha nodded excitedly, and Sasuke told her about the last contact he had with the brother he loved so much. He might not understand why Itachi forgave him when he couldn't forgive himself, but he perfectly understood that unconditional love that only the Uchihas possessed, the same love and devotion that he felt for Sarada.