Chapter Text
Sasuke was stuck with an unidentifiable feeling. It weighed constantly heavy over his body like he was moving through water. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, the air around him became dense, and he could swear he was sinking into the ground. There wasn’t much he could say– only that it was a hot, fiery, and somehow electrifying buzzing. When he opened his eyes, the buzz settled under his skin, leaving no trace it was there at all.
With the heaviness came the fatigue. He was always tired. When waking up, walking to school, in class, at lunch, or going home– his eyelids fluttered and knees went weak with drowsiness.
When he fell asleep in class, he was surprised when no one noticed. Ever since that night, the village kept their eyes fixed on him. A never-ending barrage of loud whispers and not-so-subtle glances that he walked with. They followed and adapted to his movements, like a cape of disfigured eyes and mouths, always watching, always whispering. Sasuke never said anything, but he could feel everything, and everyone focused on him. Even when he was at home, in the district of the dead, someone was watching. He could feel them.
In his dreams he could make out a figure in the fog. A mask of a weasel, eyes drooping almost tauntingly down at him. A giant red eye hanging in the sky with the accursed tomoe spinning into a razor sharp wheel. The motion made him dizzy and when he fell to his knees he’d dip into a pool of blood. When he gazed back up, there were only more horrors to follow. The limbs of his clan, of his family mutilated and strewn across a battlefield that used to be their home, blood stains painting walls, windows, doors, and tiles alike. It pooled on patios, dripped down stairs and off roofs, falling in heavy drops onto his face. It stung his tongue with a sour copper as he swallowed the blood of his kin—
Sasuke tried not to think about it. He really did. However, in his new lonesome, there was seldom else he could think about. As infamous as he was, not a single person ever dared to approach him. Ever since that night. Too scared that the monster that was him was also lurking inside of him as well.
(If one day the little Uchiha would take to the night and slaughter every living person in the village.)
Not that he’s really complaining. Sasuke likes the quiet; the space the villagers make for him lifts some of the weight off his shoulders. Occasionally, when he could ignore the judgement and the fear, Sasuke could sit peacefully in his room and pretend nothing was wrong. His bed was soft and walls devoid of any blood or carnage. It was his little haven in the cruelty of the outside world. (He swore he could even sometimes hear his mother call for him—)
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However, as of late, his safe space of chosen delusion was not quite right. There was something bothering him. The dinosaur.
Each night he went to sleep with an empty bed. All his old stuffed animals were jammed tightly in the bottom drawer (shinobi shouldn’t sleep with such toys, only children do and children are weak—).
Each morning he awakes and finds the same dinosaur plushie in his arms. The first time it happened, the soft fabric made him sick to his stomach. It reminded Sasuke too much of him—
(Really Onii-san? For me?)
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(They’re all dead Onii-San!)
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(Please Onii-san stop this madness—)
—He couldn’t eat anything that day, he was too busy throwing up. The lingering memories of firecrackers, lanterns, and dango made his stomach curdle. After the second time, Sasuke became convinced it was someone else’s doing. He inspected his room from top to bottom, there didn’t seem to any signs of forced entry— or any entry at all. It didn’t look like anyone broke in. Sasuke still didn’t want to fool himself, he knew of the masked people that watched him in his house. They crouched in trees for hours on end, focus never leaving him. He always felt them watching him in clinical distaste. If anyone broke in, it’d be them. (He later learns in class that they’re called Anbu.)
Before bed the next night Sasuke closes his eyes and breathes. He can feel the earth around him, the old wood in the compound and the plants beginning to grow. This time there are no masked people, only birds and a few cats lazily roaming the empty roads. His doors are sealed shut, windows closed and blinds drawn. He’s safe here. Relieved, he closes his eyes, slowly sinking into a blissful emptiness. He's sure nothing will be out of the ordinary. (He still finds the dinosaur the next morning.)
After the third night, he decides to test something. That night he stuffs the plushie into its proper drawer, watching its innocent body disappear as he closes it. Then, he places a seal on the drawer to keep it from opening in the night. (Sasuke knows that toys can’t move on their own but he wants to make sure.) When he goes to sleep he can’t help but feel a little saddened at the loss of his old friend.
When he wakes up the next morning, his limbs tremble and ache. He stretches his arms and legs before wincing at what feels like the hard floor beneath him. Sasuke glances around, and it takes him a moment before he realizes that he’s under his bed. He drags himself out, before taking notice of the slight stinging on his hands. Fingernail markings appear in jagged lines across his wrists, his skin torn and peeling away. What the— he glances over again at the drawer, only to find the seal mangled. What looks like more fingernail markings line the pieces of paper. Was there a cat in the house?
There were, in fact, no cats in his house. After several moments of breathing (he learned it was called meditating at the academy, they even practiced a few times) Sasuke concludes that his house was as empty as he left it last night. So the question still remained— who had left him in such a state? He steeled himself as he began his search throughout the compound. Surely he could find something. (He finds nothing.)
It was hours later before he finally gives up. He growls to himself as he plops on the sofa, lips coming to form a little pout. There was only one room in his house that he didn’t search. Sasuke didn’t even touch the doorknob, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to touch it now.
Still… if there was anyone in the house, that would be the only place left for them to hide.
Sasuke grabs the dinosaur where it lay on his bed, marches up to the dreaded door and takes a breath. (He doesn’t take the time to acknowledge the amount of warmth he feels hugging his little friend). When his fingers brush up against the door, his body is flooded with shivers. They are so violent that he stumbles back a few steps, clutching the dinosaur tightly.
(Why are you doing this Onii-San?!)
Ignoring the tears prickling his eyes, he stabilizes himself, glaring at the door in front of him. He could do this. Just a door—
(Onii-San is gone. He can’t hurt him here—)
Digging his feet into the ground, Sasuke takes another breath. He can’t feel anyone in the house, the room should be empty. Once more he reassures himself before pushing the door open with all his strength. The door gives away easily, silent and welcoming as it opens. Sasuke feels something in him lift gently, the heaviness and fatigue all at once taking flight like a bird. Somehow, he knew was going to be okay.
(Sorry Sasuke, maybe next time—)