Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Six figures stood at Konoha’s gate, cloaked in darkness. Only the light of the moon broke through the dense blackness.

She stood there, surrounded by her best friends, and realized it was over.

No matter how many times they had promised each other they would never part ways, that they’d always be together through good times and bad, some things simply happen. Things that fundamentally change one’s perception, one’s view of the world. She never told them, but she knew she wouldn’t be coming back. Not tomorrow, not the day after, not ever. She would never return.

She didn’t tell them, because she couldn’t.

She just looked at her friends, unable to see their faces clearly through the tears she had tried to hold back until the very last moment. Memories of happy and less happy moments flashed before her eyes, and she carefully took in each face, as if she wanted to carve their features into her gaze, afraid she’d never see them again. She knew her face had already given her away, but it didn’t matter anymore. She could finally take off that hateful mask she’d hidden behind for nearly half a year. She could finally let it fall to the ground, shatter — she didn’t care. 

Then she saw his tear-filled blue eyes: like a mirror of her own. Suddenly, a blonde whirlwind stood before her, and the next second, he was in her arms.

“Sakura-chan!” she felt Naruto’s tears run down her neck, but she didn’t care anymore. His tears mixed with hers, and she thought how wonderful it would be to stay like this forever. But they couldn’t. Not now. And sadly, never again. “Do you remember what you said to me here, exactly six years ago?” the boy sniffled, then pulled back to look her deeply in the eyes. Sakura cried even harder. Of course she remembered.

“Bring him back, please, Sakura,” Naruto repeated her old words. “Only you can bring him back. I tried…” his voice broke. “But I failed. Even though it was a lifelong promise… I failed.”

“Naruto…” Sakura whispered, heart breaking seeing her friend like this.

“Now it’s your turn to promise me something!” he grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes with determination. “You’ll come back. I don’t want to lose both of you. In one month, with or without him, you’ll be here. Right here, at this damn gate. Promise me, will you?” The girl could only nod. Her soul was breaking, because she knew—she wouldn’t be here in a month. She would never be here again.

Her chest tightened at the thought that her friends would wait for her here: pathetically, full of hope. She knew that as time passed, the hope inside them would slowly fade, until even the tiniest spark would die. Their hearts would break. But she also knew that at the same time, they would begin to accept it. Her memory would fade, and other things would take her place.  She had made her decision. She loved Sasuke, yes, but it was not enough – she wanted to even out the wrongs of the past, saving him. Or at least do everything in her power to save him. Because she knew now that he was chasing shadows and lies for years. That’s why she was willing to sacrifice her life, for him. To save him. Even if she herself didn’t yet know exactly what she was saving him from: maybe from himself.

“I have to go,” Sakura whispered into the night.

Her statement was met with silence. They all knew, the time had come. And there was no point in trying to hold her back. They stood with bowed heads, none of them daring to break the moment’s spell. As usual, Sakura took on this thankless task. She cleared her throat softly, then turned on her heel and began forming the hand seal that would let her slip out of Konoha under the cover of night without anyone noticing. She disappeared into the shadows without once looking back at her friends. 

As she reached the safe darkness of the forest, she pulled on her ANBU mask. She had only had it for two years, but now she was incredibly grateful for it. This was what she had fought for, ever since Sasuke walked out of the village – and her life – on that dreadful night.

When she was officially awarded the mask of the ANBU, she felt no joy. No pride. Only sheer determination and the hard training sessions with the Fifth had brought her here, she knew that well. But if the Fifth had known back then what truly motivated Sakura, she would have locked her in a cell to beat the stupid idea out of her head.

To an outsider, she fit in perfectly among the ANBU. There was no trace of emotion in her eyes, always hidden behind that expressionless mask. But an outsider could never imagine the immense relief she had felt when the mask and uniform were placed into her hands. She no longer had to keep up the emotionless facade. It had taken so much strength, and every passing moment made her feel like she was sinking deeper into the filthy, lonely swamp of isolation.

And so the tears filled with sorrow, loneliness, and despair behind the grotesquely grinning porcelain mask were never seen by daylight. And for that, she was truly grateful.

After her parents lost their lives on a mission gone wrong, she had no reason to continue this life. This existence in a world filled with pain. She had reached a point in her life where she could fully understand what thirteen-year-old Sasuke had felt, and what had driven him to leave the village.

The difference was... Sasuke was driven by revenge, sacrificing everything for it. Sakura was the opposite. She did everything for love and justice. At least that’s what she told herself. She felt that if she couldn’t cling to that thought, she would go mad. Because she found no other meaning in her existence. So she held onto it, held on like a drowning person to their final lifeline. She had her friends. They mattered to her. They all supported her. Most of all...Naruto. The boy had become an integral part of her life, undeniably. But even that wasn’t reason enough for her to keep living.

The first ray of light broke through the gloom of her life when she learned the truth about Itachi. One day, arriving early for training, she overheard a conversation between Tsunade and an ANBU in the Fifth’s office. It piqued her interest, and that same night, she snuck into the top-secret archives. When the full story unfolded before her, she was in tears – thinking only of what could have been, if Sasuke had known the truth. If he hadn’t hated his brother in vain. And, of course, if he hadn’t left the village. But she realized that the information she now knew about the Uchiha clan’s butcher could be useful. She devised a plan. To give purpose and meaning to her existence. But back then, it was just a wild idea.

Back then, Sakura was skeptical about the whole thing. She both wanted and didn’t want it to succeed.

And yet, as she leapt from one tree to another, she felt: she had made the right choice.

About a week passed as she had been walking through the forests. A whole week without seeing a single human being. She’d had to hide, lie low. But now her supplies had run out, and it was time to find an inn, at least for a few days. She hoped that while staying there, she could ask around about the Akatsuki. She hadn’t bothered until now—she knew they were always on the move to avoid detection. But she also knew that no organization could exist without a headquarters. There had to be some place where they met up, at least occasionally. And finding that place was precisely Sakura’s mission.

At first, she planned to track down Itachi – but then realized she would need Pain’s approval for her plan to work, unless she wanted to die prematurely. And that certainly wasn’t part of her plan.

From the top of an old oak tree, she finally spotted a small inn hidden deep among the trees. If she’d stayed on the dirt road, she might have missed it entirely.

She tucked her mask into her bag, pulled her cloak tightly around herself, and raised the hood to hide her face. There was no reason for anyone to realize that an elite ANBU was walking among them, especially since Konoha was likely already searching for her. She trusted her friends to delay the inevitable for as long as possible, but she had no habit of overestimating anyone’s abilities. She knew exactly what a week meant, especially for an ANBU. By now, she was either listed as a missing-nin and entered in the Bingo Book… or declared dead. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

She slowly pushed open the rickety door, which creaked as if it hadn’t seen oil in a century. Maybe it hadn’t, she thought with a wry smile.

Inside, the inn was a chaos of noise, no wonder no one noticed her arrival. It was late afternoon, almost dusk. Most of the people inside were already drunk, she noted with satisfaction. Sake was sake, and anyone partying this hard in a place like this had probably downed more than a few cups. All the better, she thought. The fewer who noticed her, the better.

The place could have been described as cozy, if it weren’t for the drunk farmers and travelers who ruined the charm. The tables and chairs had clearly been carved with care once, but now bore the ugly marks of knives and wear. The light yellow walls were grimy and dusty, and decorated with paintings that looked amateur at best, Sakura thought.

She slipped silently between the tables, avoiding eye contact, though a few people still let their gazes linger. She was a stranger, after all, arriving at dusk in such a remote place. Her cloak billowed around her like liquid darkness, and she’d just paid for three nights in advance. That wasn’t something ordinary people did. Even the dullest villagers could sense that. And Sakura knew it too.

That’s why she retreated to the darkest corner after the bartender told her it would take a bit of time to prepare her room. She tried to make herself invisible, but she also needed to order something, so she wouldn’t stand out more than she already did.

While waiting, she wondered whether she should’ve dyed her hair. This pink really stood out. Not exactly the kind of color every second person had. Amateur mistake, she should’ve thought of that earlier.

She saw a slender, brown-haired girl approaching. Her hand instinctively moved toward a hidden kunai. It was the same girl who had been at the bar she realized, but still, better to be cautious. She was on the run, and also on the hunt. Being careless now could cost her everything.

But the girl just gave a hesitant smile when she noticed Sakura’s subtle movement, and spoke quietly:

“Your room is ready. Please, follow me.”

Sakura stood up slowly and glanced down at the girl, who was only a few centimeters shorter than she was.

She noted the soft brown eyes and the kind face, she couldn’t have been much older than Sakura herself. She nodded, and the girl turned toward the stairs.

Sakura followed without a sound, eyes fixed on the girl’s unprotected back. She couldn’t understand how someone could be so careless. She could take her out easily, no one would even notice. At least not until morning. She shook her head at the thought. She didn’t need to worry about other people too.

She stepped into the room. Relief washed over her as she realized it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected.

She figured she could get a few quiet nights of sleep—as long as she stayed out of sight. She hoped it would be enough time to replenish her supplies.

-

Uchiha Sasuke knew what he wanted.

Food, water, and to kill Kabuto. Probably in that order. And he also knew what he didn’t want. He never wanted to see sand again in his life.

He had finished the mission four hours ago, that pathetic little assignment he’d been given. He could already be home by now! And what was he doing instead? Trying to crawl out of quicksand. The moment he got out of one pit, he fell straight into another.

He knew these were meant to protect Sunagakure from unauthorized intruders, but he was trying to sneak out, not in. He had already completed his job in the village, snuck in unnoticed—so how the hell did he still manage to fall into a trap like this?

He pulled himself out of the sand and scanned the area motionlessly for any other traps. When he judged the area to be safe, he took a small step forward. Nothing happened. Another step. Still nothing. He made it to the edge.

He nodded in satisfaction. Now he could go eat, shower, and kill Kabuto.

As soon as Sasuke arrived at the hideout, the first thing he did was step under the waterfall. He felt like he would die if he didn’t touch water within the next few minutes. His hair was full of sand. He could feel the gritty particles crunching between his teeth, his eyes were red from all the rubbing, and his nose was so clogged he could barely breathe.

Granted, he had been in far worse shape before, but after nearly four hours of bathing in sand, the water felt like salvation. Kabuto could wait—he could kill him once he felt like himself again. There was no way he would let anyone see Uchiha Sasuke in such a pathetic state.

He decided on his own that reporting to Orochimaru wasn’t as important right now as his own well-being. So he let the icy water wash over him, carrying away every thought.

Kabuto slammed his door shut in anger.

He’d always known there was nothing he could do about Orochimaru’s arms... but now his master had realized it too. And it was driving both of them to the edge.

Time kept slipping away, and Orochimaru’s patience was wearing thin. He was on a deadline: he needed a new body. But to take over young Uchiha’s body, he had to perform the hand signs himself. And with paralyzed arms, that was impossible.

Most of the snake’s underlings were mindless and dull, with a few exceptions, but even those weren’t exactly skilled in medical ninjutsu. That was what made Kabuto the right hand. He took part in all of Orochimaru’s mad experiments, and he could be considered talented, even exceptional. But not exceptional enough to heal Orochimaru’s arms – arms that, thanks to the Third’s jutsu, now seemed doomed to hang limp at his sides forever.

Kabuto knew he couldn’t stall any longer. There was no point dragging it out; Orochimaru had figured it out. Even his favorite little apprentice didn’t have the knowledge to save him. Until now, they’d been searching for remedies, solutions. But all of it had failed.

A thought kept gnawing at Orochimaru’s mind: there was likely only one shinobi alive capable of healing him. And he knew perfectly well that this particular person would sooner cut off her own arms than help him, team bonds be damned.

But even she must have had a student. He’d even met her. And surely, any great master would pass down her knowledge to her apprentice.

Kabuto kicked the wall in frustration. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought the Hokage – or her student – would help them. What had he expected? That they’d politely ask to heal Konoha’s greatest enemy, and she’d just go along with it?

“You summoned me, Orochimaru-sama?” Kabuto bowed respectfully, hiding his emotions as soon as he entered the hall.

“I heard Sasuke-kun has returned,” Orochimaru said, his golden eyes gleaming as they fixed on Kabuto.

“That's correct. Apparently, he forgot to report in again.”

“Let it go,” the serpent waved dismissively, noticing Kabuto’s furrowed brow. “Just inform him I'm waiting in the main hall. Now.”

Kabuto nodded, hiding a smug grin. He hoped the master would punish Sasuke for not reporting immediately. He set off to find him. He had a good idea of where to look, so he didn’t waste time and headed straight for the waterfall.

“Orochimaru-sama is waiting in the main hall,” he announced in his usual pompous tone.

No response. He hated being ignored. Which is exactly why he hated Sasuke, the master’s little favorite. Sasuke almost always ignored him. Just like he ignored everyone else.

“He said he has news about your brother,” Kabuto added. It was a bluff, but he had to say something that would get a reaction, something to salvage his remaining dignity.

And he knew perfectly well that mentioning Itachi to Sasuke was like waving a blood-red cape in front of a bull. A trigger for instant, deadly reaction. And Kabuto found that endlessly entertaining.

In a flash, Sasuke tore himself away from the waterfall, snatched the towel out of Kabuto’s hands, and without so much as glancing at him – face perfectly expressionless – marched past the bespectacled man toward the main hall.

Kabuto knew all too well that Sasuke’s face hadn’t been expressionless a second ago. Just as he knew that the young Uchiha had become a master at hiding what he truly felt.

For a fleeting moment, Kabuto entertained the idea of sticking out his foot – just an inch – to trip him, to witness the noble last heir of the Uchiha clan fall flat on his face in a humiliating mess. But in the end, he only shook his head, adjusted his glasses, and followed Sasuke.

–

Sakura discreetly asked around, trying not to draw attention, about whether anyone had seen a figure wearing a cloak of black with red clouds. She’d spun so many personal stories – names, destinations – that her head ached from all the lies. She never told the same tale twice.

Later, she sat on the grimy blanket in her room, mulling over what she’d heard while cleaning her weapons. She learned that this inn lay nearest to Sunagakure’s southwestern border. So she’d skirted the entire boundary, cleverly avoiding every checkpoint.

But there was still no word on the Akatsuki. Her chest tightened at the thought: what if she found no trace? What would she do if she couldn’t even locate Itachi, let alone convince him?

A knock broke her thoughts. Sakura sighed, rose, and stepped to the door to open it only enough for a peek.

“Sorry to bother you,” grinned a little boy, no more than twelve years old.

“And what do you want?” Sakura asked, eyes wide.

“I heard a real shinobi was staying in this room,” he said, voice shining with excitement. “I wanted to see for myself.”

Sakura had to stifle a laugh. The boy was adorable, and his openness reminded her of Naruto. She stepped aside from the doorframe and swung the door wide.

“Would you like to see what a ‘real shinobi’s’ room looks like inside?”

The boy nodded eagerly.

“What’s your name?” she asked, eyeing him as he stood rooted to the spot, staring at the weapons piled on the bed. He wore a ragged shirt that might once have been green, and dark trousers at least two sizes too big.

“Take.”

“And what about you, Take, are you traveling with your parents?” Sakura sat on the edge of the bed and began fiddling with a kunai.

The boy still stood in the center of the room, so she beckoned him to sit beside her. Take hesitated, especially when he saw the kunai in her hand. Sakura noticed and grinned as she dropped the blade among the others, then held up her hand to show she meant no harm. Take took courage, after all, he had asked to come in, and sat down beside her on the blanket.

“So?”

“I don’t know my parents. My uncle owns the inn, he raised me,” Take shrugged. “And what’s your name, onee-san?”

“Secret.”

“But why? I told you mine,” Take said in mock sulkiness, turning away.

“I’m a shinobi, as you said. I have to be careful.” This time she wasn’t lying.

The consequences would be dire if anyone learned Haruno Sakura’s whereabouts. It would have taken her nothing to invent a name, and yet she enjoyed playing the mysterious stranger – and teasing the little boy.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear!” Take pressed. Sakura shook her head firmly, closing the topic. Take saw she wasn’t budging, and let it drop.

“Then I’ll call you Hana,” he declared proudly.

“Why Hana?” Sakura smiled.

“Because you’re like a flower,” Take said seriously. “Especially with your pink hair, it makes me think of cherry blossoms.”

She sighed, massaged the bridge of her nose, and smoothed her expression.

“Want to look at the weapons?” she changed the subject.

“Can I?” his eyes sparkled. Sakura nodded.

“This a katana?” Take asked reverently, pointing to one blade.

“No,” Sakura laughed, shaking her head. “That’s a kunai. This is a katana.” She drew her favorite sword from behind her back.

“Wow!” Take exclaimed excitedly. “Can you fight with it? Have you ever killed anyone with it? Does it have a name? And–”

“One question at a time, kid,” Sakura raised her hand. “No, I don’t fight with it—I only carry it to intimidate my enemies.”

“Really? That’s sneaky!”

“Hardly,” Sakura laughed. “Of course I can use it. And yes, I’ve killed with it—” she paused at the memory of her first kill, unwilling to dwell on it. “It has no name. Why would I name a weapon?”

“Because that’s so cool!” Take insisted. 

Sakura laughed and looked at the boy, rather fondly.

After that Take came up to see her every day, eager to hear how Team Seven had defeated Zabuza, the Demon of the Hidden Mist, or Sasori, the feared puppet master of the Akatsuki—how they had fought in the chunin exams and made life difficult for Kakashi. Sakura enjoyed telling the stories, even adding new adventures to Team Seven’s history. She spoke as if Sasuke were still part of the team, and looking into Take’s wide, sparkling eyes, part of her wanted to believe that illusion.

She hadn’t left her room for the next three days. She had food brought up and ate as little as possible so she could save the rest for her journey. She had no idea when she'd next get to sleep in a bed or eat a hot meal.

But every time she looked at her ANBU tattoo – carefully hidden from Take’s view – she was reminded of why she was really staying in this rundown inn, far from home, hunting down a criminal organization.

Chapter Text

Yahiko had no idea what to do with this bunch of idiots. He stood before a group made up of the most feared criminals, and yet he felt like he was in kindergarten. They were at the southwestern hideout, and the thought of spending two more weeks with them made him want to hang himself.

Deidara lay on the ground motionless, showing no signs of life. Tobi whined next to him that his senpai had died. Kisame lounged on the couch, from which he had previously pushed off the blonde. Itachi just rolled his eyes and made an elegant exit from the room. Hidan was flirting with Konan in the kitchen, and for Yahiko, that alone would have been reason enough to kill him on the spot – on top of that, he hadn’t even taken off his shoes.

The Akatsuki leader was allergic to muddy floors.

This time, he let it slide. He massaged the bridge of his nose and clapped his hands together. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and turned their full attention to their leader.

"Orochimaru is planning something, and he wants to involve his little favorite," he announced, and as expected, Itachi immediately reappeared. Yahiko knew he hadn’t gone far.

"Proof?" Itachi raised an eyebrow, well aware they had received many false leads over the years.

Yahiko ignored him and turned to the others. 

"I want you all to mobilize. The bijuu hunt is suspended indefinitely. Orochimaru poses a serious threat to our plan, and I want him eliminated." His statement was met with confused murmurs. They didn’t understand why Yahiko was so spooked this time. "Tobi and Konan, I want you to discreetly investigate Orochimaru’s current location and assess the situation."

"But boss, if I may—" Kisame spoke up, lying across the couch with his head hanging upside down so he could look at Yahiko. "Why are the degenerate and your girlfriend going on such an important mission?"

At that, Konan turned red, but Yahiko remained calm, staring at Kisame as if debating whether to flay him or gut him first.

"They’re going because neither of them is hot-headed like you or Hidan. Deidara is too volatile... he’d probably end up in a debate about the beauty of art and attract attention. Also, I don’t want Itachi running into his little brother, because–"

"Because he’s determined to kill me, and while I can control myself, he can’t," Itachi finished the sentence as he pushed off the doorframe. "Am I right?"

"Absolutely," Yahiko waved him off. "Konan, Tobi! You leave at dawn, you have one day for reconnaissance."

Konan ran off to pack, dragging Tobi behind her. The others didn’t pay them any more attention and resumed their previous activities. Deidara got up from the floor and, with a battle cry, launched himself at Kisame, sparking an all-out war for the couch. Only Itachi watched as Yahiko muttered a few meaningless words and left the room.

–

"What the hell is this supposed to mean?!" Tsunade slammed her glass on the table and glared at the assembled group to emphasize her words.

"Tsunade-sama, actually..."

"Not now, Shizune!" the Hokage snapped with a piercing look, causing the mentioned woman to shrink back toward the wall.

"We’ll explain everything, but only if you promise not to send ANBU after her," said Shikamaru, looking up.

Kakashi and Guy exchanged glances. They knew Shikamaru had just made a bold move.

"You think you can lay down conditions? YOU?!" Tsunade shouted, practically exploding. "Who do you think you are? I could have you all in prison right now– or in Ibiki’s hands!"

"With all due respect, Tsunade-sama," Naruto stepped forward. Everyone – Tsunade, Kakashi, and the other jounin – were surprised by the formality. No teasing, no grin. Naruto’s serious expression unsettled them. "But I ask that you hear us out. And for that, we need to know Sakura is safe."

"What are you–"

"You can’t send anyone after her." Naruto reached her desk, placed both hands on the wood, and leaned forward, meeting her eyes. The Hokage sank into her chair. "No one."

A stunned silence filled the room.

"He’s right," Ino added, placing her hands on her hips. "Sakura has a mission she needs to complete."

"I don’t recall assigning her any mission," Tsunade narrowed her eyes.

"She went after Sasuke," Naruto said blankly, stepping back and glancing at Shikamaru.

Everyone in the room gasped, but the Nara simply rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

"As I mentioned, we’re willing to share all the information we have, as long as..." He left the sentence hanging.

After what felt like an eternity, Tsunade spoke.

"Shizune, document a mission for Sakura in the Land of Waves – make it significantly longer than usual," she gritted through her teeth. She held Naruto’s gaze, noticing the slight, satisfied smirk on his lips. "No ANBU."

Shizune nodded. Still, Tsunade was visibly fuming. But she wouldn’t risk her student’s safety... not until she had all the answers.

"Also, we’d like to make it clear to everyone here: if you can’t keep your mouth shut, now’s the time to leave," Neji added.

Tsunade stared in disbelief at the kids standing before her. No, she thought, they weren’t kids anymore. She had watched them become responsible adults before her eyes. Or at least, she hoped she wasn’t wrong.

"You heard them!" she barked at the room. "What’s said here stays here. You’ll all swear to it."

–

Sasuke slept restlessly and woke in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat. Once again, he had seen those blood-red eyes haunting his dreams since childhood. It didn’t matter that he now had similar ones – he still feared the ones in his dreams. He’d never admit it, though.

He remembered what Orochimaru had said the day before, after Kabuto dragged him out from under the waterfall.

Soaking wet, he entered the great hall where the snake sat on his self-proclaimed throne, head tilted back, watching Sasuke’s every move with a hungry gaze.

"Come closer, Sasuke-kun," Orochimaru beckoned when the boy stopped just inside the doorway.

Sasuke clenched his teeth and stepped one pace forward, determined not to go any closer. Kabuto, scuttling like an obedient cockroach, immediately approached his master and bowed slightly.

"Orochimaru-sama, the Akatsuki are making moves. We don’t know what they’re planning, but our spies report they’ve set their sights on the young Kazekage of the Sand. It seems they’re trying again."

"Strange... I thought they were heading to Konoha this time, for Uzumaki Naruto," Orochimaru hissed, glancing sideways at Sasuke. He was pleased to see the boy tense slightly at the mention. "Sasuke-kun! I want you to find out what the Akatsuki are up to!"

"You might even meet your brother," Kabuto added with a sly grin.

"You might get the chance to kill him... and finally have your revenge, Sasuke-kun. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?"

"…the chance to kill him..." And what if they didn’t even meet? "…fulfill your revenge…" And what would happen after he killed him? "…isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?" Was it really?

He slammed the door behind him, furious, and headed toward the waterfall. These were not the thoughts he wanted to have in the middle of the night! Why was he doubting himself? This was his dream! He’d left everyone who meant anything to him for this! He hadn’t had a real family for years when he met them… Sometimes, he missed them… No. He was not allowed think like that after all this time. Six long years... The last time he saw them, he nearly killed them. If not for Naruto, then Sakura...

He shoved his head under the water, letting the falling stream wash away the memories, leaving behind a comforting numbness.

–

Konan and Tobi left before sunrise. They moved steadily, and Konan enjoyed how the first rays of dawn wrapped around them. She had always found sunrises beautiful; dawn was her favorite time of day.

They had one day to investigate, which might have seemed short, but not for them. Tobi had information that Orochimaru’s hideout was not far from the southwestern border of the Sand. Not far at all.

By the time they reached the border, the sun was already high in the sky. Konan knew they were only a few hours away now. Or so Tobi claimed. She hoped he was right, she was tired, hungry, and wanted to go home as soon as possible.

-

Sakura only woke up when someone knocked with lunch. She jumped up, cursing herself for not waking up sooner. She had meant to leave at dawn, not midday. Now it would be harder to find a place to rest for the night, and half the day was already gone.

She was surprised to find Take at the door, holding a tray. He grinned and handed it to her before dashing off.

The tray was full of pastries, and a jug of water balanced beside them. Sakura silently thanked the boy for bringing food she could take with her on the road.

She quickly packed her things, pulled the ANBU mask over her face, and silently jumped out the window. She didn’t want to see anyone, she wanted to continue her journey undisturbed.

It was late afternoon when she heard a noise. She hadn’t stopped once to rest, but now a bad feeling crept over her. She kept moving, but she was sure she was being followed... and her certainty only grew over time. She didn’t sense chakra nearby, but that meant nothing. She had hidden hers too, just to be safe.

Sasuke hadn’t left at dawn like Orochimaru had ordered. Partly because he wanted to rest, partly out of childish defiance. So now he had to travel under the blazing sun, but he didn’t mind. He moved silently, jumping from tree to tree, carefully masking his chakra. Suddenly, he caught a shadow in the corner of his eye. With his Sharingan, he identified an ANBU. A grin spread across his face when he realized it was a Konoha ANBU.

He followed from a safe distance, deciding to capture them. Orochimaru would value that more, for sure. He knew the snake loved experimenting on elite shinobi, especially ones from his former village. A petty revenge of sorts. He wouldn’t kill them right away, he let them suffer. A slow and painful death.

He drew closer, no longer trying to hide. He was enjoying the hunt.

Sakura was starting to feel fear.

Just a little.

She still couldn’t see her pursuer, but she was certain someone was following her. She ran through her options and decided to stop and face them. Better to fight than run forever.

Sasuke was surprised to see his prey slowing sown, then stop in a clearing between the trees. He thought ANBU were trained not to fall for traps.

Or maybe… this one thought they could take him?

He shook his head and chuckled to himself. No one could be that stupid.

Or could they...?

As he got closer, he saw the ANBU standing motionless in the grass, mask turned toward him. The hood cast a shadow over the mask, making the eerie painted grin even more terrifying. But that wasn’t what caught Uchiha Sasuke’s attention. It was the slender legs and the delicate curve of the hips. A woman!

Uchiha Sasuke was a ruthless man. He wasn’t moved by anything – least of all the sight of a woman, whom he usually deemed inferior. Even if the one in front of him started stripping and dancing around naked, it wouldn’t affect him. Or so he liked to believe.

But then, unbidden, a memory surfaced: his late mother. That gentle face, those cheerful eyes... He never understood how she could stand his father, being such a sweet soul herself.

He slapped himself mentally. Idiot! Why the hell was he reminiscing in a moment like this?!

He drew his katana and leapt in front of the other figure. The woman, as if she were a perfect mirror image, mimicked his movement exactly.

Sakura couldn’t believe her eyes. She thought she was seeing things – or maybe had fallen under a genjutsu without realizing it. Was Uchiha Sasuke seriously the one who had followed her all the way here? Was she really about to fight Uchiha Sasuke? That Uchiha Sasuke? Had the world gone mad? Or maybe she had?

The idea of revealing her identity crossed her mind, but there was no guarantee Sasuke wouldn’t kill her on the spot, without a shred of mercy. So she stayed in the fight, even though deep down she knew she probably stood no chance against him. She gathered all her courage and steeled herself. She wouldn’t falter. She would fight him just as she would a stranger.

She raised her katana and assumed a firm stance.

So did Sasuke.

Neither of them moved. They waited. They both knew that the moment one of them made the first reckless move, there would be no turning back.

Sakura inhaled sharply. She couldn’t take it any longer. Her hand was white from gripping the sword hilt so tightly, and she was trembling more and more. She was sure Sasuke had noticed.

Before she could even blink, Sasuke lunged forward and attacked. He was done with the pointless waiting.

Sakura wasn’t idle either, she blocked every strike, but didn’t have time to counterattack. Sasuke moved with lightning speed, and she had to pour all her energy into defense. He slashed toward her, but she dodged and spun on her axis, aiming to strike with momentum. Sasuke easily evaded her and tried to get behind her. Sakura used the trunk of a nearby tree as leverage, pushed off it, and launched a strike from above. The sudden attack caught Sasuke off guard; he barely had time to leap aside.

Sakura smiled with satisfaction. So they weren’t that far apart in swordsmanship after all. The thought gave her renewed strength and confidence.

But Sasuke had had enough of the back-and-forth. He decided to end this meaningless fight using the Chidori. Sakura only came to her senses when the deafening sound hit her ears. Sasuke’s outline blurred: he moved so fast. She would recognize that jutsu anywhere – the one that sounded like a thousand birds – but now she could barely move.

She didn’t know what had happened. Maybe Sasuke had miscalculated his aim, or maybe she had, by some subconscious instinct, shifted just enough to the side at the last second… She couldn’t tell.

All she knew was that she didn’t feel any fatal wound. Sasuke had sped past her, his hand piercing the trunk of a nearby tree.

Sasuke could barely believe it. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a faint flash of pink, and it threw him off. His concentration shattered, and his hand struck the tree over his opponent’s shoulder instead.

Because of the disturbance from the Chidori, the hood fell from the ANBU’s head. Sasuke found himself staring into the mercilessly painted eyes of the porcelain mask – then his gaze fell to the hair. Pink strands cascaded to the collarbone, messy against the rough fabric of the gray uniform.

His breath caught. The first name that came to mind was Sakura. Then he marveled at himself... just how absurd his thoughts were.

Sakura stood frozen, holding her arms tight against her sides, barely daring to breathe. She didn’t dare move, afraid that a single wrong gesture could get her killed. She was relieved the hood had fallen; but at the same time, she was terrified of the consequences.

Terrified of Sasuke.

She felt a hand gently lift her hair – then let it fall back onto her shoulders. A second later, fingers followed the strands’ path.

Sasuke gently took a handful of her hair, then let it slide through his fingers. He watched, entranced, as the pink strands fell back into place one by one. Unable to resist the temptation, his hand brushed against her neck, following the curve of her shoulder, and settled on her upper arm when he felt her trembling.

“Sakura,” he breathed. His voice was barely more than a whisper, uncertain, though he hadn’t asked a question. His hand returned to the side of her neck.

He wasn’t trying to choke her – he just applied a little pressure, enough for her to feel that she was in his grasp, at his mercy. She didn’t answer, but flinched almost imperceptibly at the sound of her name. She kept her hands at her sides, nails digging into her palms, not making a sound.

Sasuke grew tired of the silence. With his other hand, he grabbed her chin and turned her face toward him, leaning in close.

“Who are you?” he hissed into her ear, tightening his grip on her neck just slightly.

Sakura couldn’t take it anymore. He was so close. Too close, only a few centimeters… He stood there, right in front of her. She couldn’t let this chance slip away, even if…

Even if she knew this wasn’t the plan.
Even if she knew she should have found Itachi first.
Even if she knew she might be rushing toward her own doom.
Even if she knew she shouldn’t trust Sasuke.

She raised her hand. When she saw Sasuke tense and reach for his weapon, she gestured to show she didn’t want to fight. She reached toward her mask, slowly untied the strap at the nape of her neck, and let the mask fall to the ground between them.

Chapter Text

Naruto hadn’t been himself since Sakura left. Once again, he found himself wandering the streets in the middle of the night, lost in memories of the time they had spent together. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but something was gnawing at him. Especially after seeing how shaken Tsunade and Kakashi were by the whole situation. Of course: Sakura had been the Hokage’s apprentice, the most talented medic in the village, and Kakashi’s precious student…

He stopped by a bench near Konoha’s gate and stared into the darkness beyond the two towering wooden pillars, shaking his head. No, he really shouldn’t be tormenting himself over this. After all, wasn’t all of that reason enough for everyone to worry themselves sick about the girl?

He shook his head again. No, it’s not enough, whispered a quiet voice in his mind.

Regardless of how special Sakura was, something still didn’t sit right. His heart skipped a beat as the thought struck him that maybe, just maybe, he had really messed something up. Something important… Something…

He tried to piece together the facts in his mind. Sakura had left because he asked her to. That was true. Although…

He hadn’t really needed to convince her, had he? In fact…

Maybe he hadn’t even asked her at all – maybe she had volunteered on her own?

And she hadn’t wanted anyone to go with her… She insisted on going after Sasuke alone. But why?

Why hadn’t she shared her plans with them?

What was she really thinking – that she’d succeed in bringing him back?

Naruto realized he had more unanswered questions than actual information. Frustrated, he kicked the trash bin in front of him. There was something he had missed – something he hadn’t seen…

But the others knew just as little, and yet none of them had stopped Sakura from leaving! In fact, they’d even helped. He had helped.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want his thoughts to spiral into irrational paranoia. But Kakashi had always taught them to trust their instincts.

“You know, there’s that little voice that speaks up when it needs to,” Kakashi had said once, during a dinner after training. “That one– you don’t ignore that voice. It speaks for a reason.” Then, to emphasize his point, he’d slammed his glass down on the table.

That same little voice was what led Naruto to suddenly change course and head toward Sakura’s apartment, leaving the dark gates of the village behind him. He’d had a key to her place for years – even when her parents were still alive. After their death, there was even talk of him moving out of his tiny, rundown room near the Hokage Tower and moving in with her, but Kakashi hadn’t thought it was such a great idea.

In the end, he still spent more time in Sakura’s room than in his own. They also frequently crashed at Kakashi’s place without warning – at first, their teacher seemed a bit bewildered by it all, but over time, he greeted them with nothing but a tolerant smile and an open door.

He got so lost in the comfort of those memories that he didn’t notice someone until a loud voice jolted him back to the present. The next second, he found himself sprawled on the dusty street, with Shikamaru sitting across from him, frowning.

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?” Shikamaru snapped as he stood up.

“I could ask you the same thing! What are you even doing out here at this hour?” Naruto brushed off his pants.

“Couldn’t sleep…”

Naruto studied Shikamaru’s grim expression; there was a strange tone in his voice that piqued Naruto’s curiosity. He hesitated – should he say something about the unsettling thoughts he had about Sakura? What if he was just overthinking? Still, he decided to give it a shot.

“Hey… Shikamaru…”

“Don’t even start,” the other said, locking eyes with him. Naruto was caught off guard for a moment.

“But—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Shikamaru cut him off with a dismissive wave, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to walk away, but stopped when he realized Naruto wasn’t following. “Well? You coming or not? I’d rather not break in – especially since you have a key.”

Naruto stared in disbelief, then laughed and ran to catch up. He didn’t even know why he was so surprised. It’s Shikamaru, after all. If he, Naruto, sensed that something was off, then surely Shikamaru had too.

They walked in silence for several minutes, side by side. Naruto wanted to speak – when didn’t he? – but he recognized the look on Shikamaru’s face. He was deep in thought, carrying on some internal dialogue with himself. His eyes were focused on the road, but his gaze was elsewhere.

Naruto had often envied the boy’s seemingly laid-back, careless attitude. He knew that Shikamaru had a huge heart and wasn’t nearly as indifferent as he pretended to be. Sometimes, Naruto wished he could hide from the world behind a mask like that, too.

He had one of his own, everyone did, but sometimes he felt like he’d chosen the wrong one.

After all, it was exhausting always pretending to be cheerful.

– 

Sakura felt like her heart had stopped.

The moment the words left her lips, it wasn’t just her heart: time itself seemed to come to a halt. Sasuke’s gaze was chilling, piercing her expression as if searching for the tiniest sign of a lie. And even though she was telling the absolute truth, her insides trembled like a leaf in the wind. Because she didn’t really know Sasuke. She had to keep reminding herself of that, over and over. If Sasuke – for any reason – decided to kill her…

But she didn’t let those thoughts or fears show on her face. After what felt like an eternity, when it seemed Sasuke was done staring her down, she cleared her throat. No reaction. She tried again, this time slowly rising from where she sat beneath the tree. Still, Sasuke didn’t move an inch.

Sasuke couldn’t believe his ears. Or was it his eyes?

Could this be some fucked up genjutsu? Was that even possible?

No matter how hard he searched that beautiful face for signs of mockery or deception, he found none. His sharingan met only sincerity and sparkling green eyes. With a resigned sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment. He made a silent vow – if she’s still there when I open them... then fine. I’ll believe her.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he looked up again, blinking carefully. Internally, he gave a sarcastic smirk at his own foolishness. The first thing his eyes found were those emerald eyes. His posture eased. He bent down, picked up her finely crafted katana, and stepped closer. Now, only one step separated them.

To her own surprise, Sakura didn’t feel nervous. After all, if he’d wanted to kill her, he would have already done it. Without a word, she let Sasuke quietly slide her weapon back into the sheath strapped to her hip. If she was being honest with herself, she liked this small gesture – a symbolic olive branch. Though she still found their silent communication ridiculous, she had no choice but to play by Sasuke’s rules.

“Why?”

Sakura almost flinched at the sound of his voice. They had been standing in silence for what felt like forever, and clearly, only Sasuke wasn’t bothered by it.

“Why what?” she asked, frowning in confusion.

“Why… did you run away from Konoha?” His voice still carried heavy skepticism.

Sasuke was privately proud of himself for managing to speak even that much after all that silence. The girl’s beauty had him utterly entranced.

Or… was it her presence?

The feeling she stirred in him just by standing close?

He couldn’t say. All he knew was that his sense of time had completely unraveled. Sakura’s voice brought him back to reality.

“I’m looking for Orochimaru,” she said, folding her arms in front of her.

Sasuke stared at her in disbelief. This girl had managed to render him speechless, again. How many times today was that? He’d already lost count.

She had to be insane. Or maybe he was. Maybe he was hallucinating from too much time wandering in the desert.

Why the hell would she go rushing toward her own death like that? Was she tired of living?

“Tired of life, are you?” he asked aloud. It had sounded better in his head.

He felt anger creeping into his voice. But he wasn’t even sure who he was angry with. Sakura? For being an idiot? Himself? Orochimaru – for even existing?

“He’s responsible for my parents’ death,” Sakura finally said.

Sakura couldn’t read any clear emotion on his face, but his eyes… Oh yes, his eyes. They flickered at her words, though it was impossible to tell what that flicker meant. Surprise? Anger? Sympathy? Disdain? Mockery? Maybe even he didn’t know. But her words had struck a chord.

Sasuke wasn’t sure what to think. If she was telling the truth… If her parents really were dead, like his… He knew it wasn’t exactly healthy, but still—

He felt something like satisfaction at the news. Not because of her pain, but because it meant she might finally understand his. It meant there was something between them.

A bond? A connection? Mutual understanding?

Now we’re the same, he thought.

Alone. Isolated. Broken.

And Sasuke found that oddly comforting.

“So what do you want from him? Kill him?”

“Exactly,” Sakura answered firmly. “And bring you home.”

“I must’ve misheard you. Care to repeat that?”

“Sasuke…” she sighed. “Don’t force it. Some people just don’t have a sense of humor. No shame in that.”

–

Naruto stared at the papers in his hands, utterly stupid. Dumbfounded.

Then at the folders scattered across the bed.

Then at the notebook pages littered across the floor.

There was no mistaking it: Sakura’s graceful, unmistakably messy handwriting. Yes, somehow even her scribbles managed to look elegant. Sakura had always been oddly proud of that, the way her chaotic writing somehow still had a kind of beauty to it. Naruto wished, just this once, that she didn’t write like that, then maybe he could pretend these weren’t hers. Maybe he could let go of his suspicions and just go home.

But no.

This was Sakura’s handwriting.

And yet… the words spelled out by those elegant slants and curves... they couldn’t be real. They couldn’t be! The things she had hidden away in the bottom left drawer of her kitchen cabinet…

If any of it was true… No. Impossible.

Shikamaru slowly sank down beside Naruto onto the cold kitchen floor. He rolled a cigarette between his fingers, then flicked the lighter in front of him after lighting it. He had already smoked through half a pack, and the air in the small room was thick with haze, but neither of them seemed to care.

At first, it had just been scattered notes about the Akatsuki members, every scrap of information she could find about them. There were forbidden scrolls from the Archives, the girl’s own scribbled observations, and then…

Itachi Uchiha.
Everything Sakura knew about him – they now knew too.

And Shikamaru wished he didn’t.

Naruto, on the other hand, wished Sasuke had known. That he hadn’t left in vain.

But… would he have understood? That stubborn, wounded twelve-year-old boy?

Naruto swallowed back his tears as he pictured young Sasuke’s fathomless, pitch-black eyes. And the pain in them. That never-ending, bottomless pain.

“You got the important parts memorized?” Shikamaru’s whisper sounded like a loud cry after the hours of silence.

“Even if I wanted to forget, I couldn’t.”

“How long do you think Sakura knew all this?” Shikamaru sighed, but he didn’t expect an answer.

“If anyone finds out about this…”

Shikamaru looked away from Naruto’s tormented gaze and gave a slow nod. Unpleasant, that much was certain. But necessary. And what needed to be done… needed to be done.

“Then you know what we have to do,” he said, eyes locked firmly on the blond.

Without a word, Naruto reached out and picked up the lighter glinting silver on the kitchen floor.

–

Sasuke was starting to feel like he was losing his mind. Or if he wasn’t, then something was definitely wrong with Sakura.

How could she have agreed to such a reckless plan? And how could he have told her about it? They were both rushing, eager, to their doom.

He had suddenly confessed that he was currently on a mission under Orochimaru’s orders. Then he added, as if it were nothing, that once it was done, he planned to return to the hideout – and kill the snake anyway.

Sakura’s jaw had already hit the floor, but it dropped even further when he said he wanted her to join him. To take him down together.

It wasn’t the plan of the century, but Sakura hadn’t even hesitated. She’d been stunned to learn what Sasuke had been planning, truthfully, for years now. To kill his master. To kill Orochimaru.

Sakura had thought that if anyone could pull it off, it would be Sasuke. He knew Orochimaru better than anyone. Maybe even better than Kabuto did.

She didn’t press him on why he hadn’t returned to Konoha all these years. Deep down, though, she already knew. It seemed impossible, but she believed it was shame that held him back. He had left behind everyone who had ever meant something to him, and clung to the one thing he hadn’t yet lost: revenge. Her heart ached at the thought.

A little black-haired boy, alone in the dark, in the claws of a monstrous snake.

Before they set off, Sakura quickly gathered her weapons, retrieved her backpack from behind the tree, and pulled her porcelain mask back over her face. So she could watch Sasuke’s expression, without him noticing.

As always, Sasuke ran without the slightest hint of emotion. Sakura even wondered whether he ever blinked.

They had been moving through the forest for hours, and hadn’t exchanged a single word since their conversation in the clearing. To Sakura, this mission was nothing but a delay tactic. She didn’t want to question his plans – not when she feared he might change his mind.

“We’ll reach the border in a day,” Sasuke finally broke the long silence. “They’ll be there.”

“And… exactly what’s the point in sniffing around the Akatsuki if we’re going to kill Orochimaru anyway?”

“My brother has to die too.”

Sakura didn’t respond. She just sighed. She’d hoped that if they could defeat Orochimaru together, Sasuke would finally let go of all this. That he’d walk back to Konoha with her, smiling.Very naive of you, Sakura, she thought to herself, why not asking your hand in marriage at once too?

How could he possibly forget? That his own brother slaughtered their entire clan right before his eyes?

She knew one day she’d have to tell Sasuke what she had learned about Itachi. But not now. Now wasn’t the right time.

They pressed forward in silence, resting only for brief moments. Time was against them. Maybe they’d sleep a few hours at night, taking turns on watch. Sasuke studied the Akatsuki’s trail with unwavering focus. Sakura kept her earlier plans – to seek them out herself – locked tightly in her chest. She had no idea how Sasuke would react, and she didn’t want to take the risk.

Time passed quickly, and they moved even faster. Suddenly, the bright afternoon sun gave way to a foggy twilight. Sakura suggested they push on. Sasuke disagreed.

He knew that ANBU were trained to operate under cruel and harsh conditions. Sakura could probably run through the whole night without blinking. But they needed a little time – time to refine their plan, and to rest. The next few days wouldn’t just determine their future, but much more than that.

And, if he was being honest, there was a part of him that just wanted to spend more time with her. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?

As insane as it had seemed to involve Sakura and trust her with everything... The more time passed, the more he realized it had been the best decision he’d made in years. Maybe the only good one.

It felt as though fate itself had brought them together. The two of them… yes, together they could do it.

With those thoughts in his head, Sasuke fell asleep beneath the starry sky. And silently prayed for a dreamless night.

Sakura, lying beside him, stared quietly at his face. She couldn’t sleep, and didn’t want to. She no longer feared that Sasuke would suddenly decide to kill her, but her instincts told her to stay alert.

The silence between them since the clearing bothered her. She wanted to talk, say something, anything. But she was afraid that Sasuke would just find it annoying. Like in the old days, she thought with a bitter smile.

With a deep sigh, she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. She pictured her friends’ smiling faces, and her lips curved into a small smile of her own.
It always calmed her. Especially Naruto. Naruto.

Her eyes flew open, and she glanced at Sasuke. Partly because she wondered if she should dare mention Naruto. Maybe Sasuke would listen. But mostly… lying here beneath the black sky, beside Uchiha Sasuke, she couldn’t help but remember what it was like when there had been four of them. All sleeping like this, after a mission. Kakashi-sensei…

Tears welled in her eyes at the memory, and a wave of sorrow swept over her. Team Seven.

More than anything, she wished she could see Kakashi’s bored face and Naruto’s cheeky grin when she rolled over to her other side. That was her greatest wish.

That was why she had followed Sasuke. Not exactly because she was in love with him…

She loved him, yes, but she had never been sure what kind of love it was. Was it real love? Pure, romantic love? She had been twelve, for the Gods. She had always felt like it was her duty to bring him back: because she had let him leave that night.

That’s why she could never forget. That’s why the idea had consumed her.

But did she love him? As in, in love with him?

She didn’t know. She didn’t even know if she wanted to. She wanted to believe she loved him with all her heart, but…

Had Sasuke ever done anything to deserve that?

–

Kakashi was jolted from a restless sleep by loud banging at the door. Groaning, he rolled over, muttering curses. Someone better not be waking him up now, not when he had finally managed to fall asleep. And at dawn, no less.

But the banging didn’t stop, in fact, it only grew louder. He threw off the covers and stormed to the front door, ready to give whoever it was a very warm welcome.

But when he opened it and saw the dark, exhausted faces of Naruto and Shikamaru, he paused in surprise. There was a fire in their eyes he had never seen before.

Without a word, he opened the door wider and stepped aside. So much for peaceful sleep.

“Sakura went after the Akatsuki.”

And Kakashi knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he would never sleep soundly again.

“What do you plan to do with this information?” he asked through gritted teeth.

The two boys exchanged a glance. Kakashi could tell some kind of silent conversation was passing between them. He had a feeling trouble was coming when Shikamaru showed up at dawn with Naruto... but this kind of trouble?

The information itself didn’t shock him all that much. The Uchihas... What surprised him more was that the boys even knew about it at all. And Sakura, too. How did she know? He didn’t even want to imagine how long she’d been carrying this heavy burden.

He had known, some of it, of course.

There were times long ago when he had to literally bite his tongue so he wouldn’t let something slip to Sasuke in a weak moment. Things might’ve turned out differently if the Third Hokage hadn’t forbidden everyone from speaking about it.

He let out a deep sigh. No point tormenting himself over the past now, that ship had sailed. The thought that he had already lost two of his students, them wandering the world alone, hit him like a stone. Because… because he couldn’t protect them.

Kakashi forced himself to focus on the coffee in front of him. He brutally shoved those kinds of thoughts from his mind, gripping the hot mug with both hands. Now is not the time for self-pity. He stared at the cup but didn’t drink.

He cleared his throat, hoping to get Naruto and Shikamaru’s attention. No luck, Naruto was staring at his hands, and Shikamaru was already reaching for another cigarette. Under normal circumstances, Kakashi would’ve kicked Nara out for smoking indoors, but… these weren’t normal circumstances.

All three of their coffees sat untouched, still steaming.

Kakashi had brewed it as soon as he sat them at the kitchen table and sternly ordered them to tell him everything. He didn’t used his usual paternal tone. This was a commander's order, calm and strict.

“We can’t tell anyone,” Shikamaru said. It wasn’t a question.

He wasn’t surprised that Kakashi didn’t seem surprised. No matter how much time has passed, no matter how well they thought they've come to know him, Shikamaru always felt like Kakashi remained a step ahead.

“Who needed to know already knew,” Kakashi muttered, massaging his temples. “So…”

“Sasuke definitely didn’t know!” Naruto suddenly shot up from his seat, eyes on fire. “Sasuke doesn’t know!”

“I doubt it matters to him anymore,” Kakashi said, each word burning his tongue, but he had to say it. “I doubt anything could bring him back now.”

“Kakashi-sensei…” Naruto clenched his fists.

“Let’s talk about what actually matters,” Shikamaru cut in. “Sakura.”

At the mention of her name, all three of them fell silent. Kakashi, in that moment, was very thankful for his mask. Without it, they might have seen the flash of pain that crossed his face. That sweet little girl, alone, hunting a walking disaster.

His Sakura. Alone.

“We have to tell Tsunade-sama.”

“We can’t!” Naruto objected, shooting his teacher an angry glare.

“She’ll send ANBU after her,” Shikamaru added. “That would destroy Sakura’s whole plan.”

“Wait, you still believe in this madness?” Kakashi asked.

“I’ve never doubted Sakura for a second.”

The depth of love and trust in Shikamaru’s voice hit Kakashi hard. Naruto, too, looked at him with the same unshakable determination. Damn it, what was he even doing?

Sakura was his student. True, the worry was eating him alive, but maybe… maybe he could allow himself to trust her for once. Just for a moment.

After all, she’d grown up under his guidance, joined the ANBU, passed the chunnin exams with top marks, became the best medic in Konoha after Tsunade and Shizune…
All that, at such a young age, barely eighteen.

Sakura had always been there as a core member of Team 7. Kakashi often got so charmed by her bright smile that he forgot just how much she had achieved by strength alone – mental and physical as well.

Yes, but…

“So you’re saying we do nothing?” he asked, raising an irritated eyebrow. “We just let her get herself killed?”

“No, of course not…”

“Then what? We just sit here while she chases after the Akatsuki?” he snapped at Naruto, who sat down again with a startled look. “The Akatsuki! We’re talking about a criminal organization made up of elite fighters!”

Kakashi didn’t often raise his voice. Maybe that’s why it always hit like a slap when he did. He hadn’t meant to yell, hadn’t wanted to lash out at Naruto, but…

How could they expect him to just sit back and watch his precious student throw her life away on such a reckless whim?

“Tsunade-sama would definitely send ANBU,” Shikamaru began, “but what if… we went instead?”

“WHAT?”

“It’ll take a bit of… persuasion, but—” Kakashi ran a hand through his hair after a moment. “Honestly, I think it’s a good idea.”

“But… But Sakura…”

“I’m surprised you didn’t suggest it first, Naruto. I thought you’d be the first one to run after her.”

“Sakura…” It was one of those rare moments when Naruto was at a loss for words. He dropped his head onto the table with a soft thud. “Sakura and I talked… No, she made me promise that no matter what happened, I wouldn’t go after her because…”

“Because…?”

“Because Sasuke would want to fight me. Or… I’d want to fight him. I mean, if we fought… then… Sakura was scared one of us would get hurt,” he finally said, after stumbling over his words.

“Hm, makes sense,” Shikamaru nodded, flicking ash onto Kakashi’s table. “So that means you’re not coming?”

“Hey, hey, hey. We haven’t even gotten to the part where we tell Tsunade-sama, let alone—”

“Of course I’m going!” Naruto slammed his palm on the table, cutting Kakashi off. “Sakura-chan promised me she’d be back at the gate in a month, with Sasuke or without him. It’s obvious she has no intention of keeping that promise.”

“So?” Shikamaru asked with a small, knowing smile.

“So I won’t keep mine either!”

–

Konan felt like she was reaching her limit. If one more word came out of Tobi’s mouth, she swore to God she’d kill him right then and there. And honestly, she was the one who tolerated Tobi’s presence the best out of all of them, but enough was enough. She had been listening to his stupid rambling for over a full day.

They had found absolutely nothing at Orochimaru’s hideout. Nothing at all. She suspected they’d walked into a well-placed genjutsu, but she didn’t dare to go any further. Konan was naturally a non-confrontational person. So, she decided they’d turn back, there was no point in circling around nothing.

She wasn’t even sure whether to be glad about this outcome or not. On one hand, she was relieved: she wouldn’t have liked to fight Itachi’s little brother. But on the other hand… what was she going to tell Yahiko? He wouldn’t really hold Tobi accountable for anything, but Konan… Konan was definitely going to take the blame.

Her stomach was twisting in knots, and her head throbbed from Tobi’s babbling beside her.

She was just about to smack his head when she sensed movement out of the corner of her eye. Tobi must have noticed it too, because he instantly went silent and froze. Could it be just some animal? She raised her hand to signal they could keep going, but then caught a glimpse of a shadow darting across a tree. Then another.

She gestured toward the figures with her chin, and Tobi took off after them. Konan muffled the sound of her footsteps with paper sheets and silently followed. But in the next moment, she found herself staring into a glowing Sharingan. For a fraction of a second, she thought it was Itachi standing in front of her – but then the cold blade of a katana was pressed against her throat.

"Akatsuki..."

Konan was surprised to realize that the sigh hadn’t come from the Uchiha. It was a much softer, more melodic voice. She tried to locate the owner of the voice, but the katana pressed into her skin made movement rather difficult.

"Your mask," the dark-haired boy said, looking past Konan’s shoulder at someone behind her. Then he nodded grimly. "I’ll go after the other one. Can I leave this one to you?"

"Yes."

Konan detected a slight tone of resentment in the woman’s voice behind her, and she sounded a bit dull, too. She assumed whoever it was, had obeyed the Uchiha and had put on some sort of mask. Not that it mattered. She’d be dead within minutes anyway. Maybe she’d let the boy go, out of respect for Itachi.

"Try not to die," the boy barked at his companion, then let go of Konan and disappeared into the trees.

"How sweet," muttered the other one, then looked Konan in the eye and exclaimed in surprise, "You’re so pretty!"

The blue-haired woman had looked at Sakura mockingly when she spoke out, but she didn’t care. She knew they weren’t there to chat.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye toward the place where Sasuke had disappeared a few minutes ago. Sakura scolded herself internally: she couldn't afford the luxury of worrying about the boy. Not that Sasuke really needed worrying about, anyway. 

She really was beautiful, Sakura admitted with a hint of reluctance. In the Bingo books, her face looked harsh, her eyes cruel, but now, standing before her, Sakura had to acknowledge that whoever had drawn that portrait had gotten it terribly wrong. Konan, the name popped into Sakura’s mind, slowly approached her. Her golden-yellow eyes narrowed slightly, watching Sakura's every move. Tired of the pointless foreplay, Sakura attacked.

Konan neutralized both shurikens with her paper sheets and gave a faint smile at the weak attempt. However, she didn’t know that Sakura was only using it as a diversion. She gathered chakra in her left hand, and in the next moment, the ground beneath them trembled, cracks zigzagging toward Konan from the force of the punch.

Konan jumped aside in alarm – clearly, she hadn’t expected that. She sent a flurry of razor-sharp paper sheets toward Sakura while lifting herself into the air with her paper wings, aiming to watch from several meters above as her attack shredded the girl to pieces. But Sakura had anticipated the paper tornado slicing through the air. Realizing her katana wouldn’t be enough, she shaped long, thin blades of chakra at her fingertips, like surgical scalpels. Moments later, Konan’s paper sheets lay shredded around her in a perfect circle. The chakra blades had sliced through them mercilessly.

Konan stared wide-eyed at the ANBU, who calmly turned her porcelain-masked face toward her. Konan couldn’t believe what she was seeing. No one—no one—had ever been able to destroy this jutsu. In fact, it was usually the other way around. She looked down at her opponent with interest. She knew this required immense, almost inhuman chakra control, and yet… this pink-haired ANBU didn’t even seem fazed.

Sakura was surprised to see that the woman didn’t carry any weapons. When she flew up with her wings, the wind momentarily blew open her black cloak: she only had a simple utility pouch around her waist, maybe enough space for a few kunai or shuriken. But Konan didn’t need weapons, as she soon demonstrated with another paper tornado.

Sakura barely managed to fight her way out, though a few sheets still struck her face. Her porcelain mask fell to the ground, it was pointless to pick it up now. With her black glove, she quickly wiped the blood from her forehead and cheekbone, then tensely looked up at the blue-haired woman. Her expression was emotionless, but Sakura saw something strange shimmering in her golden eyes.

Konan was shocked to realize her opponent was a… child? No, not a child, but very young. She could hardly believe this girl was ANBU. She observed the pink-haired girl’s face dispassionately. She was beautiful. Truly.

Konan considered herself breathtaking already, but she wasn’t so vain as to not recognize a beauty when she came across one. And the girl in front of her was stunning. She simply had no other words for it.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t have to kill her. Although…

She found it strange that a Konoha ANBU would be traveling with the little Uchiha. Maybe she didn’t have to kill the girl. She could take her to the hideout; surely she had valuable information. Yahiko and Itachi could interrogate her at their leisure, and then they could kill her later.

And this way, she wouldn’t have to return to Yahiko empty-handed. A perfect plan. She just had to knock out and capture the ANBU before the black-haired one returned.

Sakura realized her strength wouldn’t help much now: splitting the ground wouldn’t matter if Konan was safely hovering above with her wings. She had to come up with something else, and quickly. She looked at the tall pine tree to the woman’s left. That’s it.

She formed the hand seals at lightning speed, and in the next moment, dozens of Sakuras surrounded Konan. The clones moved together, supporting each other, trying to leap as high as possible to reach the edge of Konan’s cloak. Konan sliced through them with her papers like a knife moved through butter. With each puff, there were fewer na fewer clones. The real Sakura mingled among them, then suddenly threw a shuriken at Konan, flying at incredible speed toward her head. The woman was too busy destroying clones to notice.

Konan jerked her head aside in panic, unable to believe she had made such an amateur mistake. What she didn’t expect—since she had underestimated her opponent the entire time—was that the ANBU would pull the shuriken back with a nearly invisible wire. It spun in the air and sliced through the paper flower in Konan’s hair. They both watched, breath held, as the little flower floated gently to the ground in two halves.

“Who are you?” Konan hissed, now looking more closely at the girl as she slowly descended to the ground.

“No one you need to know,” came the ANBU’s calm reply, and Konan narrowed her eyes.

“What is someone like you doing with that Uchiha brat?” she asked, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting her.

“You know, you could’ve said you just wanted to chat. No need to waste so much energy on your little paper tricks,” the girl dodged the question, examining her nails.

Konan had had enough of her cheeky remarks. She glared at her, then began forming unfamiliar hand signs. The sheets of her wings detached one by one, reassembling into a katana that fit perfectly in her hands. It was made of paper, but it lacked nothing in sharpness or hardness compared to a real blade.

If she weren’t her enemy, Sakura would have eagerly asked how this was possible. Hell, she knew Naruto would calmly discuss ramen seasoning with an enemy mid-fight. But Sakura wasn’t like that. She gathered her thoughts, reached into her pouch, fingers searching for something, then drew her own katana in one smooth motion.

They circled each other like predators. For a moment, Sakura remembered a very similar scene from two days ago, only with Sasuke in the clearing. But she wasn’t afraid now. She didn’t wait for the other to strike. She attacked first, hoping to end it quickly. Konan dodged easily, her cloak with its red clouds billowing around her. She slashed at Sakura, but the girl didn’t move away. Konan’s paper katana met Sakura’s gleaming blade with a dull screech.

With her free hand, Sakura swiftly drew a kunai, catching Konan by surprise and grazing her face. The girl smiled coldly and faintly, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, which Konan couldn’t quite understand.

The woman noticed that the ANBU had left her right side exposed. With her black-sandaled foot, she kicked her in the side, hearing the sickening crunch of at least one – maybe two or three – ribs breaking. Or at least cracking.
Konan didn’t understand medicine – and healing even less. Her knowledge of anatomy was rudimentary at best, but the girl’s buckled knees and the pain on her face suggested her calculations had been correct. After all, their job wasn’t to heal.

Sakura let out a stifled cry, clutching her side, and Konan seized the opportunity to plunge her blade deep into her opponent’s thigh. The paper katana sliced through muscle surprisingly easily, and as Sakura collapsed, Konan watched with satisfaction as the paper greedily absorbed the girl’s blood, staining the pristine white sword red.

She looked down appreciatively at the kneeling girl. She had come terrifyingly close to defeat Konan. A mere Konoha ANBU, and one much younger than her. The thought crossed her mind– not a moment longer – that if she weren’t an enemy, they might even have become friends.

She reminded her of herself. At least, her younger self.
That stubborn look…
The determined face, with that mocking smile.
Yes, they were kindred spirits, Konan concluded with a bitter expression, a smile even.

Her face twitched from that. She reached up in alarm, couldn't understand where the sudden stinging sensation came from, like someone had poured acid on her cheekbone. She was frightened by the unexpected pain. Had she been hurt? Hadn’t she noticed?

Oh, right.
The girl had cut her face earlier.

She dismissed the thought and looked around nervously. Where was Tobi? She couldn’t linger any longer, she’d already decided to take the girl with her, but she didn’t know what else the ANBU might be hiding.

It was time to go, but Tobi was nowhere in sight. Had he let himself be killed by that brat? And if so: where was the Uchiha? He clearly didn’t care much about his traveling companion if he just left her like this.

Before she could even blink, a shadow slowly stepped out from behind a tree and gave her a cruel, dark smile. A twist of face muscles, nothing more. His eyes glowed with the deepest black Konan had ever seen. She involuntarily took a step back from the pink-haired girl. The figure emerged fully from the darkness and strode with measured steps to the still-kneeling girl.

Konan’s eyes widened as she watched the Uchiha gently reached down and turned the girl’s face up toward him, the two exchanging a silent glance. His eyes narrowed as he examined her, a swift, dark shadow passing over his face at the sight of her bleeding thigh.

And Konan suddenly realized how wrong she had been. Not important to him?

Nothing mattered to him, except the girl.

She stepped back again. That cold gaze followed her every movement. She made the mistake of looking back, and then, in the boy’s eyes, darkness slowly turned into a vile stream of blood.

Chapter Text

Konan never liked the color red.

The red clouds were only on their cloaks because of Yahiko; he was the one who insisted. Even dawn, which she liked, was more pink. Maybe orange. But never this blood-red. Only the Sharingan could shine with such a crimson hue.

She often had nightmares where she was tortured or killed, but reality had surpassed them all. Or… was this even reality?

Konan no longer knew. She had forgotten the concept of time, forgotten where she was. She couldn’t even remember her own name. She wouldn’t have been able to say which world she was in—if she existed at all.

Again and again, she was taken apart and put back together.
She fell to pieces, made whole only to be broken again.

Nothing existed for her anymore.
Only pain.

Even the word pain had long lost its meaning, becoming some sort of deity in her mind. Nothing else existed, only pain. She felt it in every fiber of her being.

She saw pain, she heard pain. She was pain.
Pain. Pain. Pain.

At first, she begged for it to end. She pleaded with tearful eyes for the pain to be taken away. But now… she couldn’t remember what it felt like to be without it again.

Had she ever lived like that?
Had there ever been a world beyond this suffering?
Could colors exist in another world?

She didn’t know which colors would attract her from that distant world – she didn’t even know them anymore. She had forgotten what they looked like.
She had forgotten what her favorite color was.

She knew red, because the sky in this new world was red.
She knew black, because it was everything she feared. Black was the faceless shadow that returned again and again to torture her. Endless torment and pain. That was all there was.

Every word had lost its meaning. Everything had lost its meaning.

–

Sakura couldn’t bear to look at the expressionless stare of the blue-haired woman any longer, her gaze fixed into nothingness. Her lips were slightly parted, drool trickling from the corner of her mouth. She looked like she had lost her mind.

She knew Sasuke wasn’t treating Konan with any mercy. He wanted to punish her for what she had done to her. But she didn’t deserve this, whispered a small voice in her head.

The Tsukuyomi knew no mercy, just like its user. Sakura had never experienced it herself, but she vividly remembered the tortured look in Kakashi-sensei’s eyes after Itachi’s visit. Even days later, he still seemed like a ghost, eyes hollowed out, his mind unable to fully recover from what he had endured. So, she knew exactly how it worked.

Konan had probably only been trapped in it for five minutes, but it could have felt like five hours. Or five years. Nausea twisted in her stomach.

“Sasuke,” she croaked out, struggling to get back on her feet.

The boy was only two or three steps ahead, but even that felt infinitely far in her condition. She called his name again, but Sasuke didn’t move. His face was twisted into a mask of cruelty. Sakura didn’t know whether he couldn’t hear her at all while using his technique or he simply didn’t care.

Slowly, she forced herself to stand, fighting back tears, and staggered forward. She wrapped her hands around his waist, but her legs couldn’t hold her. She practically collapsed onto Sasuke, who instinctively grabbed her. His fingers tightly secured her hands around his waist, making sure she didn’t put weight onto her injured leg. He may have caught her instinctively, but his eyes never left Konan. Sakura shook him – nothing. She pounded on his chest wherever she could reach, but those eyes remained fiercely crimson.

Suddenly, Sakura pressed her palm over his eyes. She knew, in theory, a hand shouldn’t have been an obstacle to the Sharingan, but she hoped it would be enough of a disruption to make him release Konan.

It was. 

Sasuke inhaled sharply, then roughly grabbed her hair and yanked. It hurt, but Sakura felt a sense of satisfaction she didn’t bother to hide as she met his furious gaze.

At the same time, Konan’s legs gave out. Her eyes fluttered shut as she finally escaped the red-and-black prison. Sasuke and Sakura turned towards her as one. Konan’s body hit the ground with a dull thud and didn’t move.

Sasuke wanted nothing more than to scream at the girl in front of him. Oh yes, he would have loved to pull her hair too, yell, kick, do whatever it took to vent his frustration. But he didn’t, because that wasn’t who he was. The thought almost made him laugh. Almost.

Uchiha Sasuke didn’t scream.

So, he just... glared?
Would a murderous look be enough to make Sakura realize what she had done? Probably not, because those emerald eyes still sparkled with the same satisfied glint.

Calm. Composed. Deadly. That was who he was, Sasuke reminded himself. He couldn’t make a scene like Naruto would. But it was getting harder and harder to restrain himself.

Konan was an S-rank criminal; any information they could extract from her would have been invaluable especially – about the Akatsuki, especially about Itachi. He had almost broken her mind; maybe just a moment longer, and…

But it didn’t matter anymore. Konan was unconscious.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he growled, yanking Sakura’s hair again, still not letting go.

“Saved her life?” Sakura shot back with a raised eyebrow, though her face twitched in pain.

Sasuke’s rage mostly faded when he realized just how badly injured she was. The deep gash on her leg especially worried him, so he loosened his grip slightly, scanning her pale face with concern.

Not that he let any of it show: his expression stayed as blank as always.

“In case you didn’t notice…” he let go of her hair, his hand sliding to her waist to support her, “she would have killed you without hesitation.”

“I know,” Sakura nodded defiantly, leaning on him as she took a step forward. “But you forget that…”

She couldn’t finish. Her knees buckled, and she gasped for air from the sharp pain sizzling through her. Sasuke grabbed her arm. She knew she needed to heal herself quickly, but her chakra reserves were dangerously low. A few hours of rest were absolutely necessary.

“…that… that…”

“Don’t speak,” Sasuke ordered sharply, seeing her failing efforts.

Sakura could feel her strength leaving her body, little black dots dancing before her eyes. Sasuke’s voice sounded distant, like it came from underwater. Great, she thought bitterly, she was going to pass out, right in front of Sasuke. Once again, proving how pathetic and useless she was.

“…I’m a medic.”

Sasuke thought he would never find out what Sakura, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, had been about to say. Then he heard her mumble just before her eyes closed.

A mocking chuckle escaped him as he caught her. Of course, she wouldn’t let anyone die right in front of her.

Honestly, he had no idea what else Sakura could do to surprise him at this point.

So, she was a medic. And ANBU.
And who knows what else.

–

“Hurry the fuck up, scum!” Kisame shouted back at Hidan, who was leisurely strolling behind him, whistling, dragging his scythe along the ground, drawing lines here and there.

“We’ve got time,” Hidan waved dismissively.

“How the hell do we have time?” Kisame snapped when Hidan finally decided to catch up to him. “We need to find Konan and that idiot. Yahiko’s already pissed they’re over a day late.”

“Yeah,” Hidan shrugged, “I don’t give a shit.”

Kisame often fantasized about all the ways he could kill Hidan.
In fact, it had become one of his favorite pastimes lately. And now, with Yahiko sending them on a mission together, the idea became more tempting with every step he took.

Yahiko wasn’t quite right in the head either, pairing them up like this, but Kisame mostly blamed Itachi. That fool had refused to go on reconnaissance just so he could hole up in his room all day, Kisame grumbled internally. If he thought about it, Itachi was just running away. Doing everything he could to avoid running into his little brother.

Not like he feared for his own life, Kisame thought with a bitter laugh. He was the only one in the Akatsuki who actually knew what had happened with the Uchiha – more precisely, why Itachi had done what he did. Kisame imagined it wouldn’t take more than a glance from the kid, and Itachi would be on the floor, sobbing and begging for forgiveness.

Itachi would deny it, but Kisame was sure that’s exactly how it would go down.
After all, he knew there was nothing in this world Itachi loved more than his little brother. If the kid died, Kisame figured, Itachi probably wouldn’t even bother breathing anymore.

So, for now, he was stuck with Hidan.

Not that he was really worried. He knew Konan was strong, and Tobi… well, Tobi was an idiot. So he wouldn’t be much of a loss. Not that Kisame would have said it aloud.

He was sure everything was fine. They were probably unharmed, had gathered all the intel, and were just taking their sweet time. He knew Konan, she always enjoyed a good outing, maybe she decided to extend the mission by a day. Yahiko should’ve considered that, Kisame thought irritably.

Although, it wasn’t really like Konan to blatantly ignore orders… Still, maybe they were just wandering through the fields, flying paper kites.

Kisame knew he was just trying to convince himself now.
But he really, really hoped they were okay.

That hope vanished when, some time later, they reached a clearing. He spotted a cloak decorated with red clouds lying in the grass. He signaled to Hidan, and they quickly swept through the area. Once they deemed it safe, they hurried to Konan.

Kisame gently turned her onto her back, then cursed loudly. There were no major injuries on her, aside from a small scratch on her face, she was completely unharmed. However… Her eyes were half open, and for a moment, it seemed like she was conscious. But then Kisame realized. He’d seen that look too many times over the past few years.

Wherever they went with Itachi, they left eyes like this behind. There was always some dirty work to take care of. He recognized that dead, glassy stare. Itachi’s victims always stared blankly like that after he was done with them.

He brushed a hand over her face, then effortlessly lifted her into his arms. Meanwhile, Hidan stood next to him, curiously observing Konan’s pale features.

“I’m taking her back,” Kisame muttered, turning around. “Find Tobi. Don’t you dare come back without him.”

“And what if whoever did this to her killed him too?” Hidan jerked his chin toward Konan in Kisame’s arms.

“Then you’ll drag his corpse back with you, I don’t care,” Kisame growled.

“And if he’s in pieces?” Hidan grinned.

“You’ll figure it out,” Kisame hissed through clenched teeth. “Now move!”

Hidan didn’t reply, just cursed loudly and lazily headed off in the opposite direction.

Kisame didn’t waste another second, practically running the hours-long road back. He really hoped Itachi, or someone, anyone, would know what to do in a case like this. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worried this much about anyone.

–

Sakura felt time passing in a strange way.
She couldn’t have guessed how much time had passed since she fought Konan. An hour? A day? A week?

The world itself also felt strange. As if everything was rushing around her at an unnatural speed. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t keep her eyes open, and the liquid darkness swallowed her over and over again. She felt like she was dreaming, but not really. Like a dreamless… dream.

Sasuke was holding the girl tightly. While she was still somewhat conscious, she had managed, with his help, to climb onto his back. His hands firmly supported her thighs. He wasn’t going to risk her getting even more injured, so in the end, he had no choice but to carry her. Back on the field, before they had disappeared in a flash, he had torn a strip from his shirt to tie off her leg. He wasn’t going to let her bleed out. He still needed her.

He had been running through the trees for barely an hour, but the shining orb in the sky was already drifting toward the horizon again, casting everything in an orange hue. Annoying.
He didn’t understand how anyone could find sunsets beautiful: they were good for nothing but burning his eyes out. Somehow, though, he guessed the girl on his back probably belonged to those who liked gazing dreamily at the sinking sun. The thought made him scowl.

He could tell Sakura regained consciousness for brief moments, but not long enough for him to ask her how to heal her wounds.
He had never healed anyone before – not even himself. If he ever got hurt during a mission, Orochimaru always ordered Kabuto to patch him up as quickly as possible. Apart from the very basics, Sasuke had no idea how to treat Sakura’s injuries, and he wasn't able to use his chakra for this either. For some reason, that irritated him greatly at that moment.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice the descending darkness around him. His Sharingan activated instinctively, allowing him perfect vision in the pitch-black forest. He glanced up, grimacing when he realized the thick clouds blocked the moonlight.
Unlike the sun, Sasuke liked the moon. It reminded him of his brother – so perhaps it was a rather twisted kind of affection.

Suddenly, he stopped at the base of a large pine tree. He heard some rustling but quickly realized it was just a squirrel. He sighed deeply. He felt tired, too, so he carefully lowered Sakura from his back, leaning her against the trunk.

He sat down next to her, watching her face for a long moment. He got lost studying the curve of her lips and was almost startled when Sakura’s long lashes fluttered slightly.

Sakura opened her eyes very slowly, as if even that small movement caused her pain, though it was mainly her overwhelming exhaustion she couldn’t fight off. The pain had dulled for the moment, because all she could focus on through her hazy thoughts was Sasuke’s face, just a few centimeters away. She could smell him, feel his gaze. Maybe, if he leaned in a little more…

“How do you feel?” Sasuke’s cold voice quickly snapped her back to reality.

Maybe he cared about her physical condition, but there wasn’t a shred of kindness in his tone. Sakura didn’t even understand why she was daydreaming nonsense. Her only task now was to heal herself as quickly as possible, because tomorrow… tomorrow would be a big day.
Yes.
They would kill Orochimaru and a better world would begin. A world no longer poisoned by the snake.

Sasuke watched Sakura’s fingers closely as she pushed up her shirt slightly to examine her ribs. He saw milky white skin. He couldn’t read anything from her expression, and that annoyed him.

“Are they broken?” he asked tensely, and Sakura shook her head without looking at him.

Her ribs were luckily not broken, but badly bruised. Sakura quickly healed the scrapes on her side with chakra, then cautiously unwrapped the cloth from her thigh. She stared at the gray fabric in her hand for a moment, unsure of where it came from – until she realized it was from Sasuke’s sleeve. Her heart warmed at the thought.

She pulled out her tools from her pouch and examined the wound again. She remembered how much it had hurt when Konan’s katana pierced her leg, but now she was relieved to see it wasn’t too bad. Definitely a clean cut.
She disinfected it and closed it with what little chakra she had left. It wasn’t perfect, so she applied some ointment to prevent infection and bandaged it. There might be a scar afterward.

Sakura was so absorbed in treating her wound she didn’t even notice Sasuke had been watching her in silence for a while. She cleared her throat awkwardly, wiping her hands, stalling for time. But Sasuke neither moved nor spoke.

“Are… you okay?” Sakura’s voice betrayed how flustered she suddenly felt, and she could feel her cheeks burning. She was grateful for the darkness hiding her blush.

“Yes.”

“And…” she fidgeted, trying to think of something to say, when a question popped into her mind. “What about the other one?”

“Tobi?” Sasuke replied. Sakura didn’t question how he knew the name since it meant nothing to her – the name wasn’t in any Bingo Book.
“He’s nothing to worry about anymore.”

Sakura couldn’t understand what she had once liked about Sasuke’s smug face. Now it just irritated her. She recognized that expression, that glint in his eye: it was like the younger Sasuke sitting in front of her. She knew this look well. It always meant he knew something she didn’t and enjoyed that fact. Sakura couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

Sasuke quietly enjoyed the girl’s annoyed expression. He knew exactly why those pretty green eyes rolled. Wait. Pretty green eyes? What the fuck was he even thinking?

He sighed heavily, glancing up at the sky. This was his fourth night lying in the grass beside Sakura. The fourth night under the stars. Maybe the last, whispered a little voice in his head. He wanted to crush that little voice. And yet…

If there was even a small chance it was right, he had to do something. He couldn’t let Sakura be left with only bad memories of him. Or just bad memories, period.

“Sakura,” he said softly.

She turned to him with a surprised, almost startled expression. He hadn’t said her name since they reunited. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but then Sasuke looked at her. His iris shifted from deep black to the red of the Sharingan, and Sakura felt herself freeze completely.
Had his eyes always been this red…? Like staring into a pool of blood. Like…

She didn’t know what was happening. Would she now see what Sasuke had shown Konan?

She looked at him in fear, but Sasuke just reached for her hand. He had never done that before. He'd avoided physical contact if he could. But Sakura didn’t have time to think about that, because his gaze swallowed her whole. The last thing she saw was Sasuke’s eyes.
Red. Like blood.

Sasuke squeezed her hand, almost encouragingly, and a self-assured smile stretched across his lips.

Chapter Text

Alone stood a little girl with pink hair in the yard. Around her, children were running and laughing. She felt lonely, unable to find her best friend. Tears welled up in her large, emerald eyes, though she did everything she could to hold them back. With her tiny hand, she wiped her eyes, then pressed her lips together determinedly and adjusted the red bow in her hair. She wouldn’t cry.

What she didn’t know was that there was someone else on the yard who felt just as lonely. A raved haired little boy sat in the shade of an oak tree, watching her. He didn’t dare approach, so he just watched her from afar.

–:–

Later, the little boy was walking with an older boy, who looked very much like him, when the pink-haired girl ran across the sidewalk in front of them, chasing after a blonde. They were already at the next corner, but their laughter still echoed back.

The older boy noticed how his little brother stared after them, eyes sparkling. That’s when he realized that this pink cyclone was the one who occupied the boy’s mind for weeks. A wide grin spread across his face as he started teasing him. The boy blushed faintly but started talking about the girl, and his brother advised him to go up to her next time and ask if she wanted to play.

So, the next time they met, they started playing tag. But it seemed the little girl was very easily distracted, as her friends kept coming over suggesting more and more games. The little black-haired boy was unspeakably annoyed that he couldn’t have her undivided attention, and in his frustration, the first word that popped out of his mouth was: “Annoying.”

–:–

Suddenly, the black-haired boy was standing in a forest, leaning against a tree. No… he was no longer a little boy. He was taller, his hair longer, his eyes the deepest black. His whole body was shaking from sobs. His brother wasn’t by his side. Not anymore. He heard footsteps, but when he turned around, no one was there. Nervously, he looked around, angrily wiping the tears from his face. That’s when he noticed a pink spot behind a bush. He pretended not to see it and quickly walked away.

–:–

The pink-haired girl lay sprawled in the sand after her opponent had kicked her legs out from under her. She glared angrily at the blonde girl grinning above. Her limbs trembled as she tried to stand again, but the circle of snickering classmates and the blonde’s mocking gaze brought tears to her eyes. Then, in the crowd, she noticed a pair of pitch–black eyes watching her. Expressionless, almost bored. But watching. Not looking away, not for a moment. That gave her strength, and with steady legs, she knocked the other girl down.

–:–

Their names were called out one after another in the classroom. They exchanged a quick glance, but the black-haired boy hastily looked away. The pink-haired girl kept watching him, her eyes filled with admiration. All the other girls stared at her enviously, but she didn’t care. It felt like a dream come true. The boy lowered his head, letting his hair hide his flushed cheeks. Annoying.

–:–

The salty sea air stung their eyes, it was heavy in their lungs. They could hear the crashing waves. The black-haired boy moved faster than lightning, but it was still a close call: he feared he wouldn’t make it in time and the pink-haired girl would be hurt. Or worse. Without a second thought, he jumped in front of her to shield her. Just so afterward he could listen to her worried scolding. Annoying.

–:–

Tears filled the girl’s green eyes. Her whole body hurt. Even the slightest movement caused pain. The boy didn’t know what exactly, but something gave the girl strength. The next moment, her gaze burned like green fire as she stared down her enemies. Barely able to stand, covered in injuries, her hair… He stared at her in shock, rooted to the spot. Her long, beautiful, silky hair was gone, and yet… despite the searing pain coursing through him, he felt she had never looked more beautiful. Then, an all-consuming rage overtook him, and completely losing himself, he launched himself at the three who had hurt her.

Two slender arms brought him back to reality. He felt them trembling around his waist, but he knew they would never let go, not for anything in the world. A strange calmness and warmth washed over him, the raging fury vanished without a trace.

Why… why did he feel so strange next to this green-eyed girl? These… these feelings… were unbearably annoying.

–:–

He hadn’t felt such pain in a long time. Not since he lost his family… since he lost everything. He knew he had just lost something else, something equally precious. The boy carefully laid the annoyingly green-eyed girl on the bench, gently fixing the hair framing her face. Silently, he glanced up at the moon, as if it could absolve him of his sins.

He allowed himself one last look at the bench, where the pink-haired girl lay. As if she were just sleeping. As if she had just gotten tired and decided to rest for a bit.

The boy had no idea how the girl had known… but it didn’t matter.

He stepped through the gate, taking the first step down a path his brother had set him on years ago. He was grateful for the darkness: it meant he no longer had to hold back his tears. He could finally cry freely.

And so walked the black-haired boy, sobbing. Once a boy who had everything, now left with nothing. Who had left behind his one last hope on that old bench by the gates of Konoha.

– 

Sakura opened her eyes very slowly, like someone who doesn’t want to wake up from a pleasant dream. Not that this had been pleasant at all.

Worse yet, this was very much reality.

She blinked drowsily a few times, then almost hesitantly sought out Sasuke’s gaze.

The boy was sitting opposite her, leaning against a tree, a bitter smile playing at the corner of his lips. He knew he really shouldn’t be smiling, but he didn’t know what else to do in this situation. He didn’t regret showing this to the girl, but he still felt uncomfortable under the gaze of those green eyes — those damned green eyes!

“I suppose you wouldn’t let me hug you,” Sakura’s voice was barely more than a whisper, and though she meant it sarcastically, they both knew she didn’t actually want to be mocking.

“No,” Sasuke replied coldly, but his eyes betrayed him; they were far from emotionless when he finally looked at her face.

“Why did you show me this?” Sakura asked, her voice slightly trembling.

“I don’t know,” the boy sighed, looking up at the sky. Another lie.

A pleasant night breeze drifted over their heads, playing with their hair. The earlier clouds had passed, allowing the stars to shine in their full glory. Sakura looked up too, both their gazes settling on the moon. They smiled, almost at the same time.

“It always reminds me of him,” Sasuke said quietly, his eyes still fixed on the moon. “My brother.”

“Itachi,” Sakura didn’t ask, it was simply a statement, causing the boy beside her to tense.

“Itachi,” Sasuke repeated, but far less calmly.

They sat in silence, lonely yet together. In the safe embrace of the trees, with the starry sky above them, while in front of both of them stood a slender boy with long hair and the kindest smile in the world.

Sakura had only met Uchiha Itachi a few times as a child; they had never spoken directly, but she had often seen him training with his little brother. Even back then, she could tell that the boy loved Sasuke more than anything in the world. He would have sacrificed everything for him.

In the end, he did, she thought bitterly. Itachi gave up everything for his little brother.
His past, his present, his future. Everything.
Even his life.

Sakura knew she had to tell Sasuke the truth. That he didn’t have to hate his brother. Because she knew Sasuke didn’t want to hate him — he just didn’t know what else to do. Her heart broke for him. But at least now she knew, now she was sure, that Orochimaru hadn’t managed to wipe all humanity out of him. Maybe the old Sasuke could still be brought back.

No.

Maybe she could finally get to know Sasuke.

–

Ino had no idea why Naruto and Shikamaru would be looking for her on such a pleasant, sunny afternoon. She had just been about to sprawl out next to her flowers and sunbathe in the garden when she spotted that bright blond head and Shikamaru’s ridiculous hairstyle through the glass door. She had mercilessly told both of them, on more than one occasion, how unbearable they looked. Yet, it seemed her words had always fallen on deaf ears. Still, she couldn’t figure out why the two of them were standing in front of her house.

Naruto should have been out playing with the kids on the street, or enjoying his tenth bowl of ramen. Or doing whatever dumb thing Ino didn’t even want to imagine.
And Shikamaru should have been holed up in his room, contemplating the troubles of the world.

Oh, of course.
That’s exactly what he must have been doing, and that’s why they had come rushing to Ino — they must have realized something terrible. Thanks, but no. She’d done enough soul-soothing for Neji over the past two weeks. She decided she wouldn’t answer when they rang the bell. She’d just pretend not to be home.

“Ino, I know you’re home,” Shikamaru called out without knocking, and Ino could practically see all her plans for the rest of the day going up in smoke. Including the one where she pretends not to be home.

Shikamaru had probably noticed the incense burning in the window or her favorite shoes untouched by the doorstep. She wasn’t even surprised. What could possibly escape that boy’s attention?

That was one of the things she really liked about him.

“Just thought I’d let you know before you got the idea to trick your dear friends,” Shikamaru continued mockingly, and Ino shivered.

Why did she love it even when the Nara was being sarcastic? Especially toward her?

So this is how Sakura felt when her whole day could be made by Sasuke giving her a single disdainful glance? Pathetic. She was pathetic too.

“Go to hell,” Ino sighed as she yanked the door wide open. “What do you want?”

Shikamaru already had a sharp comeback on the tip of his tongue, but the moment he saw the blonde girl, the words died in his throat. She was wearing a spaghetti strap turquoise top that perfectly matched her eyes and black shorts. Shikamaru found the shorts… way too short. He glanced over her again, then cleared his throat awkwardly, only to receive a sarcastically raised eyebrow in return.

“Are you going to tell me what you want today or should I wait until Shikamaru undresses me with his eyes?” she asked Naruto, who acted like he hadn’t noticed any of that.

“It’s about Sakura,” Naruto said hoarsely, and Ino immediately stopped inspecting her nails.

She looked at him again, as if seeing him for the first time. Only now did she notice the dark circles under his blue eyes, how pale his skin was. Like someone who hadn’t slept in days. When she pointed it out, she got an unusually dark glare from Naruto in return.

“If you’re here to whine about how much you miss her, you knocked on the wrong door.”

Shikamaru watched Ino’s face closely. Somehow, the sadness surrounding her didn’t match her tone. Guilt crept up on him. He’d been so caught up in investigating with Naruto that he had completely forgotten about his teammate. His friend. His...
After Naruto, Ino was the one who’d taken Sakura’s absence the hardest, and yet… he hadn’t even visited her!

The others said Ino was doing great, spending a lot of time with Neji lately. So Shikamaru had assumed she really was fine. Maybe there was even a little jealousy involved because of Neji. But now he realized what an idiot he’d been.
Neji simply missed Sakura just as much, and they were comforting each other in their loneliness. That was all. What a fool he was.
Ino just missed her best friend terribly.

“There’s… a lot we need to tell you,” Shikamaru said, looking straight into her eyes, and Ino, slightly surprised, motioned for them to come inside.

“You know what…” Naruto ruffled his hair, hesitating at the doorstep, then suddenly flushed. “I think you don’t need me for this. I’ll just go… to Hinata’s. I mean… to Neji. Well, not just him, I mean… Hinata and Neji.”

Shikamaru just nodded, trying to suppress a grin. Ino waved him off without a word, closed the door, and leaned against it.

“Poor Hinata.”

Poor Hinata was a peculiar girl. Everyone thought she was shy and withdrawn. The truth was, she was neither. She was indeed selective about her friends and enjoyed being alone, but that was necessary for her to maintain her inner peace. She wasn’t shy either; she just didn’t like to speak unnecessarily. She had learned that at home from a young age. In her family, babbling aimlessly didn’t get her far. At least this way, when she spoke, everyone listened and took her seriously. And that’s what really mattered.

That’s why Hinata loved Naruto. He was her complete opposite — and yet, not really. They complemented each other so perfectly. She had gone to the Academy because of him, that was true, but if she hadn’t had talent and perseverance, she never would have gotten this far, she never would have been able to stand as an equal partner to him. Fortunately, Naruto always supported her, he was always there when she needed him, and Hinata only fell even more in love with him.

And Naruto loved her too.

And it wasn’t just wishful thinking or childish infatuation telling her that. It was the way Naruto had kissed her for the first time in the rain, the way his lips had tasted hers. The way his hands caressed her skin during one of their countless endless nights. The way those painfully beautiful eyes lit up whenever they looked at Hinata.

That’s why she was so shocked when she saw his dark expression that afternoon. When Naruto slowly, haltingly told her what he and Shikamaru had found out, she could barely hold back her tears. Her heart broke for Sakura, but Sasuke… No, Itachi. Itachi.

So she just held her sobbing love in silence, her nails digging into his shoulders as the boy just cried and cried, as though years of suffering were crashing down on him all at once. Maybe it really was like that, Hinata realized.
She felt that Naruto was finally releasing all the pain he’d been suppressing for days. Years. Neither of them said it out loud, but they both knew what Naruto was mourning. Who Naruto was mourning.

He was crying for his best friend who had been lost for years, for what he had gone through. And because Naruto hadn’t been enough to save him.

Hinata let Naruto bury his face in her chest, let him sob out those strangled sounds. She allowed her own tears to fall freely too.

And then, in silence, she just held the greatest hero of Konoha as he cried his heart out.

Neji felt as if he had witnessed something deeply intimate, something he had no right to see. He had only wanted to go train, but even after—very wrongly—eavesdropping on their conversation about Sakura and her plans, he had not expected to find Hinata and Naruto in such a state. In such a state he had perhaps never seen Naruto before. He’d seen the boy sad, maybe even desperate, but like this… this devastated… never.

Had he not known the reason, he might have called what they were doing pathetic.

But Neji knew. And he also knew those two wouldn’t be letting go of each other anytime soon. He had already accepted that they belonged together. And that they needed each other.

If he had known this would happen, he wouldn’t have eavesdropped, he told himself that as he quietly stepped back from the doorframe.
He felt like a long walk would do him good. A year long walk, perhaps. He needed to clear his head. Or maybe a good fight wouldn’t have hurt either.

He sighed deeply. He couldn’t keep going around looking for trouble.

But sometimes, trouble found him.

Compelled by a sudden impulse, he turned on his heel and burst into the room where Hinata and Naruto were still in each other’s arms. They looked at him in alarm.

“You’ve got half an hour to get your sorry asses together. Food, weapons,” he barked, offering no explanation. “We’ll meet in the forest.”

Fortunately, there was no need to clarify which forest, or where. The back entrance of the Academy led to a playground, from which they could easily sneak into the woods.
And as children, they always had.

Later, as teenagers, they often met there when they had something important to discuss.

And Neji was sure that in recent years, nothing had been more important than this.
Sakura needed them.
Sakura needed her friends.

His next stop was Ino’s house. He was simultaneously surprised and relieved to see Shikamaru jump from the couch at the same time as Ino, when he tore the door open like a madman. At least he wouldn’t have to make a detour to the Nara estate.

In the same tone and vaguely with the same words he had thrown at Naruto and Hinata, he addressed them and disappeared as if he'd never been there.
Ino and Shikamaru exchanged confused, concerned glances. They had no idea what had gotten into Neji, but they heard the command in his words: there was no real place for disobeying. Not because it came from Neji, but because the look in the man’s eyes was terrifyingly determined and it was clear he would not entertain any argument.

“Food... Weapons... What the hell…” Ino began.

“I think I know what he's planning,” Shikamaru interrupted her. “What I don’t get is where Naruto…”

Ino didn’t let him finish. She just pressed her lips into a thin line and rushed to her room. Shikamaru expected to hear the loud bang of her door slamming shut behind her, but it never came. So he followed and stopped before the open door. He leaned casually against the doorframe as he watched Ino change.

There was something intimate and sensual in his nonchalance, in his unreadable gaze. And in her feigned modesty. It was all too heartfelt. 
They were long past any sense of shyness, and Ino didn’t care at all that Shikamaru could see her underwear. Especially not now.

“You’re not seriously going along with this, are you?” the boy asked, knowing full well he didn’t need to clarify what he meant.

“And you’re not seriously thinking I’ll let Sakura run to her death, are you?” Ino shot back. “My best friend?”

Shikamaru knew there was no point arguing with this version of Ino. She was just as stubborn as Sakura. Once she made up her mind…

“I’m going home to pack,” he muttered to her, and when she only grumbled in response, he turned on his heel.

Yes, Shikamaru really did go home; but not necessarily to pack. He was sure Ino—no matter how mad she was at him right now—knew he was too lazy to pack and carry any food with him. That had always been Ino’s (and Choji’s) job anyway.

Without even taking off his shoes, he ran through the house. As soon as he found a blank sheet of paper and a pen, he began to write with trembling hands. He knew Neji wanted to carry out this little operation in secret, but they couldn’t leave behind this much of a chaos. Especially since Kakashi knew everything. The first note was for him:

“We went after Sakura. No time to inform Lady Tsunade.
Shikamaru”

He tore the paper in half, flipped it over, and started writing again. Then scratched it out. He repeated this a few times, not knowing what exactly to say.
He knew he had to be very clever now. A lot was riding on those sentences.

The success of their mission.
Sakura’s life.
Their own lives.

“Sakura went after the Akatsuki. Itachi’s secret is out. Kakashi knows everything, he can be trusted.”

He didn’t sign that one, but he knew that sooner or later, they’d figure out who had written it. He let out a long sigh and rubbed his temple.

Just let this nightmare be over…

He threw on his jacket, packed only the bare essentials in a few minutes, strapped his weapons to his back, and left. He had no idea what awaited them on this reckless mission.

Before he disappeared into the woods, Shikamaru made a quick detour without the others knowing, to the Hokage tower and Kakashi’s apartment. He hoped those words would be enough to prevent total panic by morning.

–

"We’ll be there by the afternoon," Sasuke said, tone quieter than usual, prompting the girl to nod.

They were walking through a meadow, as if neither of them really felt like running. Even though Sakura’s leg had healed nicely, leaving only a scar, which she had expected.

The sun was already high in the sky, meaning they were only a few hours away from the hideout. The snake’s hideout. Sakura shivered just thinking about it. She knew she should’ve felt excited, but all she felt was doubt.

Was it really the right decision to embark on this insane mission? To kill Orochimaru?

All her previous courage and confidence had vanished. She clenched her fists so the trembling wouldn’t show. There was no turning back now. Too much... no, everything depended on her. On them.

If they succeeded, maybe all Five Nations would celebrate them as heroes. Or they’d be executed as traitors. She knew that was a possibility too, and she also knew that if it came to that, her friends wouldn’t be able to stop it. Maybe they wouldn’t even want to, Sakura thought bitterly. After all, she had lied to them. Lied so much.

"He’ll be dead by tomorrow," Sasuke’s voice pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts.

Sakura looked at him in surprise for a moment, then pondered what she could say. If she asked about it, Sasuke might think she doubted their abilities, and she didn’t want that. If she agreed too readily, he might think she was overestimating herself, giving him an excuse to mock her.

Although, come to think of it, Sasuke hadn’t mocked her once during their journey. Not even once. Strange.
Sakura knew it hadn’t been easy for him to open up to her. To admit so much, even without words. To show his vulnerable side: his memories.

She sighed and decided to take the middle road.

"And if he’s not?"

"What?" Sasuke looked at her, confused, and Sakura almost got flustered. Almost.

"You said he’ll be dead by tomorrow," she cleared her throat, meeting his eyes. "And if he’s not?"

Sasuke didn’t answer right away, as if carefully thinking over the question. Then the answer. He appreciated that Sakura didn’t press him. They walked side by side in silence, slowly nearing the edge of the meadow. As they stepped into the shadows of the trees, the temperature noticeably dropped, and Sasuke saw the girl shiver for a moment.

"I have no idea," he finally said.

He didn’t look at her, but waited for Sakura to say something. When she didn’t, he stole a glance sideways. She was staring ahead, one hand resting calmly on the hilt of her katana. Sasuke knew this state. The tension before a fight reached its peak, and a kind of deadly calm replaced the excitement. Not that he often felt excited.

What bothered him, though, was that Sakura was already preparing for the battle. They still had hours to go. They needed to review the plan again, and for that, he needed her full attention.

"We're stopping," he suddenly said, pointing to the base of a large tree. "There."

"What? Why?"

"We need to rest," he shrugged.

Sasuke watched with satisfaction as Sakura slowly came out of her previous silence and flopped down onto the grass. He observed her stretch out on the ground, gazing at the blue sky, examining her outstretched hands. They were trembling slightly, but Sasuke decided not to comment. They both knew it wouldn’t help.

Suddenly, Sakura looked at him, and he didn’t have enough time to look away. Caught staring. Sasuke could’ve sworn he saw a slightly mocking glint in her green eyes.

Oh, those green eyes.

Sasuke couldn’t help but notice that when sunlight hit them, they turned the exact shade of the grass beneath their feet. So wherever he looked, he saw Sakura’s eyes.

He knew it should have annoyed him. But instead, all he felt was...

He didn’t know what he felt.

But he liked it, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So he just watched her hair spread out in the grass.
The way her eyes sparkled in the sunlight.
The way her mouth curled into a smile. Her lips…

"You know," Sakura spoke after a while, breaking the silence, eyes turned back to the sky. "I used to think about you a lot back home."

Sasuke heard what she hadn’t said out loud. I missed you.
He figured this was her way of making up for earlier honesty. For the memories she had shown him.

"I thought about you all a lot too," he said quietly, surprised by how easily he admitted it.

"Really?" Sakura propped herself up on her elbow, her green eyes almost burning into Sasuke’s face.

"Really," he muttered through his teeth, looking off into the trees.

"I guess you missed Naruto," Sakura teased, seeing the embarrassed look on his face.

"Yeah, him too."

Sakura didn’t ask more. She didn’t raise an eyebrow in curiosity, didn’t say anything else. She just looked at him for a second longer, then lay back down. Sasuke felt even more flustered and didn’t know why.

He got mad at himself.

He squirmed a bit, then sighed.

"It doesn’t mean anything, you know," he said sourly. "I think about my brother a lot too. And I just want to kill him."

His eyes shot to the girl, who visibly flinched at the mention of his brother. He didn’t understand why, she had heard about this 'dream' of his since childhood. There was nothing surprising about it, so why the strange look on her face?

"Are you sure?" Sakura asked barely audibly.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" he snapped, disbelieving.

What was she talking about? Was he sure? Of course he was sure. He’d dedicated his whole life to this. It was… his dream. He’d staked everything on it.

"Nothing," Sakura replied softly, and closed her eyes.

Sasuke couldn’t calm down. Her question stirred something in him, though he didn’t yet know what.

Was he sure?

Well, he had to be. He decided that after a moment.

Because if he wasn’t… his whole life, his choices in his life had been in vain. The thought almost made him nauseous. He realized what Sakura had really meant. Or so he thought.

What happens after he kills Itachi? That was the real question.

If his whole life had been dedicated to Itachi, then what came after? How would he go on… living? The nausea worsened. He shook his head, as if trying to clear all traces of his brother from his memories.

If only it were that easy.

His head was full of good memories about Itachi. And that made it a thousand times worse than if he only remembered the terrible things. Not that the massacre wasn’t awful, but like everything else, it had faded over time. The rest, though… Oh yes, the rest were good memories. And they hurt to think about. They were only painfully good now, more painful than joyful.

He had spent all his energy trying to hate Itachi. With all his heart. He’d spent years on it.
But deep down, he knew—he knew very well—that he couldn’t. He wasn’t capable of hating Itachi. Because Itachi… was Itachi.

His brother.

The one who taught him to throw shuriken, who walked him to the Academy on his first day, who wiped away his crocodile tears when he cried.

The brother who always looked at him with love and devotion, whose hugs were the warmest in the world, who always stood up to their father to protect him.

The brother who taught him so many things, who laughed with him conspiratorially at the dinner table, who snuck out with him at night to watch the moon.

Itachi had told him that the moon would always be with him. That it would guard his dreams at night, and during the day, watch his steps invisibly to make sure he wouldn’t fall on his way on the path he had to go on.

Sasuke felt like he had already fallen on that path long ago.

Maybe he had even left it entirely.
And the moon... though it was still there, it didn’t help. It just shone mockingly in his face every night, a constant reminder of what had happened to him.
What his brother had done. Yes, his brother, who patted his head every morning, who walked him to school. Who massacred their entire family, shattering Sasuke’s life.

Yet, interestingly, he didn’t hate the moon. Somehow, it remained the one thing that reminded him of his old life. Of the old Itachi.

It felt a little like it wasn’t the moon watching over him at all, but Itachi himself. Always there, every night, every day, even when it wasn’t visible. Following him with patience and devotion on this path called life. But Sasuke had already accepted that he wasn’t truly living anymore.

Not since everyone he loved had died.
Since the one he loved most had taken away everything he had, only to disappear himself.

And then forced him to hunt him, hate him, wish for his death.

Wasn’t it cruel?

Sasuke squeezed his eyes shut. It was most cruel, indeed.

He knew this wasn’t helping now.

He had to focus on the mission ahead, not mourn his brother. He knew that. Still, he couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away, then glanced at Sakura. To his surprise, the girl’s green eyes were already watching him.

And he had no idea that the key to his redemption was lying just a step away from him. He didn’t know what had been eating at the girl for days.

Sakura knew what she was doing wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be gazing at Sasuke with dreamy eyes; she should be talking to him about his brother. While there was still time, she added anxiously.

Sasuke had a right to know the truth about Itachi.

He tried to ignore her pensive gaze. At first, he thought she was looking at him, but then realized she’d probably zoned out. It just looked like she was watching him. It annoyed him not to know what she was thinking. Annoyed him not to know what had caused that strange expression.

Frustrated, he jumped up from beside the tree and motioned for Sakura to get moving. Without even looking back, he headed straight for the trees. Or at least, tried to.

But a slender hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist.

"Sasuke…"

"Not now," he said without looking back.

But she didn’t let go.

In fact, she stepped even closer. She could’ve wrapped her arms completely around him, but instead, she just stopped right behind him.
Sasuke felt Sakura gently lean against his back, resting her head on him. And yet, he didn’t move. For some reason, he let her.

"I have to tell you something," she whispered. "Something important."

Sasuke didn’t answer.

If he was honest with himself—and with Sakura too—he didn’t care what she wanted to say. If it had been so important, she would’ve told him already. Right now, nothing mattered to him except the mission. He couldn’t afford any distractions.

"Not now," he repeated, then stepped away.

But in the next moment, he caught a flicker of movement in the trees. His Sharingan activated instantly, and his heart skipped a beat as he realized what was happening.

Sakura noticed none of this, only that Sasuke had tensed beside her. Suddenly, his arms were around her, and he gently tucked a strand of pink hair behind her ear, looking deeply into her eyes.

"I’m sorry," Sasuke didn’t even whisper, he barely formed the words, and Sakura immediately felt a sinking dread.

Something brushed the back of her neck, and she slowly closed her eyes. She felt the cold edge of a katana at her nape. She didn’t even try to fight back. Not against Sasuke. Not now.

Still standing with her eyes closed, she felt the branches stir around them. Heard the bushes rustle. Footsteps approached, more than one. So they were surrounded. Her breath hitched.

"I trusted you," she whispered just as softly, but Sasuke heard.

"See? Your fault."

Chapter Text

Itachi stood by Konan’s bed, immensely frustrated. His legs refused to carry him away ever since Kisame had arrived, breathless, with the half-conscious woman in his arms. Yahiko and Deidara had both been startled to see him burst through the door in near panic. Itachi realized only a moment later what the others had already understood: Konan had run into his younger brother.

Sasuke. Sasuke had hurt Konan.

And seeing the glassy look in her eyes, Itachi was certain she had been cast into a world even crueler than their own. In truth, that was his fault too, he thought. He was used to it by now – he could always find a way to blame himself for everything. Of course this time as well. Of course, if he had killed his little brother years ago, this never would have happened to Konan.

He would have gladly let the self-condemning, destructive thoughts consume him, but Kisame’s haunted stare and Yahiko’s shouting forcibly pulled him back to reality. He knew he had to pull himself together. For Konan’s sake. Perhaps he wouldn’t have done the same for Deidara, but he truly liked Konan. He cherished her, learnt to cherish her in his never-ending grim days.

So, once they had carefully laid her down, Itachi knelt beside her and looked into the hazy golden eyes. He couldn’t erase her memories or undo them, but easing the pain was simple. He didn’t show her sunny meadows, bright beaches, or singing birds. He showed her nothing. Absolutely nothing. He wrapped her overworked and damaged nerves in soft, gentle light, shielding her from reliving the torture again and again.

He stayed there a long while, his legs long since gone numb, his head throbbing, but he didn’t move. Not until he saw a spark return to her dull gaze.

Konan blinked once, and Itachi felt the crushing weight fall from his chest. He gave her a reassuring look, rose to his feet, and helped her sit up, already holding a glass of water in his hand.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, searching her eyes.

“I’m fine now,” she deflected, after taking a deep swallow.

That was the moment Kisame chose to push down the handle. Both their heads snapped toward the door, but he didn’t hesitate. Instead, he practically flew to Konan’s side the moment he saw she was awake. She welcomed his embrace with a tired but kind smile, then patted the bed beside her. Kisame sat down without hesitation.

Itachi remained standing, watching Konan’s face. They had been so focused on the effects of the Tsukuyomi that they hadn’t even checked her injuries. The scratches on her forearms didn’t seem too serious, but the bruising around the cut on her face looked worse than it had an hour ago.

“That must hurt,” Kisame murmured, brushing his fingers across her face just above the wound. “I’ll tell Deidara to drag his ass here with some ice.”

“This…” Konan began, reaching toward the cut herself, but she flinched when her fingers touched it. “I think… something’s wrong…”

“Are you feeling unwell?” Itachi asked, brows furrowed.

But Konan didn’t answer. Her eyes clouded, and she slumped sideways as though she could no longer hold herself up. Kisame caught her in alarm, while Itachi debated whether to call Yahiko. That idiot would just make a scene again. Konan needed quiet and rest.

He almost left them alone, convinced she was simply exhausted, when Kisame’s sharp voice stopped him.

“She’s right. Something’s wrong,” he said coldly. “She’s been poisoned.”

“Poison?” Itachi raised his brows in surprise, then frowned. “But Sasuke… he wouldn’t… That’s not like him.”

“Of course, like you’d fucking know!” Kisame snapped, though they both knew his anger wasn’t truly at Itachi.

Still, bitterly, Itachi had to admit Kisame was right. He had no idea anymore what was—or wasn’t—like his brother.

“ANBU… pink…” Konan whispered weakly, her voice barely audible.

“She’s delirious,” Kisame muttered. “I’ll call that idiot.”

Itachi knew “that idiot” meant Deidara, who had the most medical knowledge among them. Or at least, thanks to Sasori, knew a thing or two about poisons.

Deidara entered anxiously, not even sparing Itachi a glance as he hurried to Konan’s side. The woman had rolled onto her side, muttering faintly. The blond gently turned her onto her back, but when he cursed loudly both Itachi and Kisame snapped toward him.

Around Konan’s facial wound, the veins had turned dark, as though someone had dripped black ink into her blood, spreading beneath her translucent skin. Only half her face was like this so far, but the longest twisted streak already crept toward her neck.

“Poison,” Deidara hissed through clenched teeth. “But nothing like anything I’ve ever seen.”

“What… what do you mean?” Kisame grabbed his shoulder. “You’re saying there’s no antidote? That’s impossible.”

“No… I don't... We don’t know if it’s fatal,” Deidara said softly, unable to meet his eyes. “It might wear off on its own, maybe it’s… just temporary, and—”

“Don’t bullshit me! Can you heal her or not?!”

“I… can’t,” the blond admitted, lowering his gaze. “Maybe Sasori could, but...” And for once, he felt no urge to cut back with some vile thing to say.

–

Sakura wasn't sure why was she feeling so betrayed. Of course, Sasuke had been treating her like a person for the past few days, but really… why had she decided to trust Sasuke in the first place? She almost laughed. She was foolish enough to believe in him without a doubt.
Why? Why, really?
Maybe because she still loved him. Maybe because she had always loved him. Maybe.

Though, in that moment, she felt many things toward Sasuke, none of them had even the faintest resemblance to love.

Masked figures surrounded them closely, while Sasuke walked silently beside her. For the past hour or two, they had been moving in silence, though Sasuke looked at her a few times as if he wanted to say something. Once he even opened his mouth, only to close it just as quickly. If Sakura’s hands hadn’t been tied behind her back, she might have found it in herself to laugh. The Uchiha opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
No, she thought, it was still funny even with her hands tied.

Sakura tried to suppress a shiver running across her spine when they have arrived at the hideout. She knew she should have been trying to find a way to escape, but she simply couldn’t gather her thoughts. The only things she could think of were how badly she wanted to punch Sasuke and how much she longed to be in her own room, crying herself to sleep.

The masked figures lined up against the cave wall. One of them gestured to Sasuke, who grabbed her elbow and began pushing her toward the entrance.

She wanted to pretend none of this had ever happened. That the past few weeks had been nothing more than a bad dream. A very, very long nightmare. But when her eyes met a dark, hollowed out gaze, she was forced to accept that this was reality. And she wasn’t going to wake up any time soon.

Sasuke's grip on her forearm became stronger and Sakura knew there was absolutely no point in resisting or trying to run, but she couldn’t resist the temptation to dip her elbow into his ribs.

Or to kick his leg when she pretended to trip.
Or to spit in his face when he turned toward her and she feigned a sneeze.

If anyone had asked her how she was doing, she would have answered: splendidly. But no one asked. And judging by Sasuke’s expression, he wasn’t having nearly as much fun as she was when he wiped her saliva off his cheekbone.

That’s it, Sakura, this is exactly how you get him to fall madly in love with you, she thought bitterly. So romantic, being spat on.

But Sakura didn’t really want him to fall in love with her. Or rather… not anymore. What did amuse her, though, was the restrained anger on Sasuke’s face. For a while.

Precisely until they reached the end of the endlessly long, dark corridor. The torchlight stretched only that far, and Sakura wondered whether someone walked through this hallway every single day to light them. She was almost about to ask the person beside her when the door at the end suddenly opened.

Or rather, she only now noticed there was even a door there at all, the stones had been arranged so cleverly that it had been impossible to tell.

Out stepped a gray-haired… rat, about her height. Not literally a rat, she knew him, but he always reminded Sakura of one, so she decided that’s what she would call him from now on. Because she was sure there would be a “from now on”. This wasn’t likely just a friendly weekend visit. Then again, she wouldn’t have been surprised at anything when it came to Orochimaru.

Her cheerful thoughts were interrupted by the rat’s voice.

“Welcome, Sasuke-kun,” he said coldly, then turned his back on them and gestured. “Orochimaru-sama is waiting.”

Sakura almost felt offended that he hadn’t greeted her. What an unfriendly welcome. She wondered why the rat had forgotten his manners, though her bound hands gave her a rather obvious answer.

“Don’t do anything stupid. If possible, don’t even open your mouth,” Sasuke suddenly hissed into her ear, barely audible. “Let me handle this.”

The girl froze mid-step. Just who does he think he is? Acting like that he still has the right to give her orders?

Sakura was practically vibrating with anger as she yanked herself free from Sasuke’s grip. She followed the rat through the door, but she tried to keep as much distance from the boy as possible. She saw the flash of fury in his eyes, but she couldn’t have cared less.
This was her abduction—so let her do whatever she wanted!

“Sasuke-kun,” she heard the snake’s biting voice before she even saw the wide smile on his face. “You’re late.”

“My fault,” Sakura stepped forward lightly, shrugging as if it didn’t bother her in the least that her hands were tied. “I was enjoying the last moments before I had to be here.”

So much for not opening her mouth and talking nonsense. She could practically feel Sasuke’s eyes burning holes into her back. To her surprise, Orochimaru chuckled softly, then crossed his legs with an elegant gesture. He was sitting on a strangely carved chair, both arms lying unnaturally limp at his sides.

“You couldn’t deny you’re from Konoha.”

“Orochimaru-sama, which room should I take her to?” asked the rat, bowing deeply.

Sakura watched in disgust, and when Sasuke stepped inside as well, she was somewhat glad to realize that his expression could have been a mirror of her own. At least they agreed on this much, if not on loyalty, she thought bitterly.

“To the special laboratory,” the snake’s eyes gleamed, and his mouth curled into something almost resembling a kind smile. “After all… Konoha.” As if he had said fondly: home.

“Wait,” Sasuke suddenly cut in, making Sakura flinch. “Medic.”

He said it as if it had meaning beyond the obvious. Medic.
So this meant something she didn’t understand. A chill ran through her. Why had he told them she was a medic? Why tell them anything about her at all? She didn’t understand the boy. Was it all just one big lie so he could hand her over to Orochimaru like some obedient dog bringing a gift? Then why all this pretense? He could have simply knocked her out, and that would’ve been the end of it. But no.

And what about when he said he wanted to kill him? He had sounded sincere when he admitted that. And now… he had been warning her? Not giving orders? But warning her.
In the forest too, before…
And the entire way here…
Sasuke just…

Cold sweat broke out on Sakura’s skin, she could feel a drop running down from her temple.
This couldn’t be real. She risked a glance at Sasuke, and her suspicion was confirmed: he was already watching her from the corner of his eye, those piercing black eyes fixed on her.
She really was an idiot.

“Medic, you say… hm,” the rat’s unpleasant voice dragged her back to reality. “I’m one too, and yet I couldn’t…”

He suddenly bit the words off, and Sakura’s interest was piqued. More so that he had declared himself a doctor. She looked him over again, her gaze more disdainful than ever.

“You know the Hokage’s apprentice?” the snake asked, his eyes glowing in the dark.

“Of course,” Sakura frowned. “I am one.”

Her statement was followed by heavy silence. She didn’t feel like explaining that Shizune hadn’t actually been Tsunade’s apprentice for years. Assistant, colleague, yes. But not apprentice. She knew Orochimaru must have meant Shizune, because she had once been famous for that title. And since they hadn’t recognized Sakura—the only other apprentice—it was obvious the snake had meant the dark-haired woman.

The air itself seemed to grow heavier around them. Had she said something wrong? Or perhaps something right? The rat and his master exchanged a long look, then Orochimaru cast an approving glance toward Sasuke.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” Orochimaru announced, eyes never leaving her. “Heal me, and you’ll stay alive for a few more weeks. Then a quick and pleasant death awaits you.”

“I’d like to make a suggestion,” Sakura cleared her throat, though she had no idea what kind of healing the sannin expected from her. “I’ll stay alive. Period. No deadlines.”

“Little girl,” Orochimaru’s rasping laugh filled the room, though there was no humor in it, “you seem to forget who you’re trying to bargain with.”

“And you seem to forget who my master was,” Sakura shot back instantly, catching the way Sasuke tensed beside her.

The snake and the rat exchanged another long look. While Sakura mused on how funny their nicknames sounded together, Sasuke quietly edged closer to her. He gave her a fleeting glance, and Sakura gave a tiny nod. From that moment, they understood each other.

“Kabuto,” Orochimaru said, his eyes still fixed on Sakura.

The rat—Kabuto—grabbed her by the elbow and began shoving her toward the door. Sakura resisted slightly, but one look at Sasuke’s expression made her relent and let herself be pushed out. She could only hope the boy knew what he was doing.

They led her through another long, winding corridor. They passed several barred cells carved into the stone walls, and Sakura shivered despite them all being empty. At last they reached a dark wooden door, and Kabuto finally stopped. He pulled a heavy iron key from his belt and slid it into the lock. The door creaked softly as they entered the small chamber.

Sakura frowned when she saw the mess of medical instruments scattered across the table. The shelves of vials were neatly lined, but the rest of the lab was utter chaos. She was about to make a mocking remark when the rat spoke.

“Orochimaru-sama would like me to convince you why it would be better for everyone if you just obeyed.”

Sakura didn’t answer. For one thing, she didn’t care what Orochimaru wanted. For another, she felt Kabuto wasn’t finished yet. She was right.

“But,” he went on, “I don’t really see what makes you so special. How could you heal Orochimaru-sama when I couldn’t?”

Now more than one thing bothered her besides the rat’s pitiful appearance. She could vomit from hearing “Orochimaru-sama” so many times, but worse was how this pathetic loser clearly thought himself far superior to her.
Still, she wanted to know…

“What’s this about healing Orochimaru?” she demanded, letting his bony hands push her down onto a chair by her shoulders.

“You don’t know?” Kabuto’s voice carried genuine surprise, laced with gloating. “Orochimaru-sama can’t use his arms, because—”

“The Third,” Sakura cut him off, staring ahead, then continued softly, “oh, of course. That jutsu… But that jutsu is irreversible! That doesn’t take medical knowledge, it…”

“Not another word!” the rat snarled, yanking her hair. “You’ll never get anywhere near his arms, whether you could heal him or not. By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your own name, let alone—”

His words were cut off by a loud crack. Both turned to see Sasuke, stoic-faced, kicking the door open. One hand rested on the hilt of his katana as he stepped inside. Sakura noticed how Kabuto instinctively took a step back, which made her smile mockingly.

“Sasuke-kun, what are you doing here? Orochimaru-sama—” Kabuto stammered.

“I told Orochimaru I will be the one to… persuade her,” the boy answered coldly.

“But you never–”

“I volunteered,” Sasuke interrupted, making a dismissive gesture. “Leave.” For a moment the room was filled with Kabuto's flaring anger mixed with fear as Sasuke flashed his Sharingan. 

Then he said nothing more, only strode past them with tight lips and slammed the door loudly behind him. Sakura nearly laughed, but Sasuke’s now dark eyes quickly wiped away her amusement. She sighed in relief, lips slightly trembling, leaning back in the chair as far as her ropes allowed.

Sasuke stepped closer, then bent down so they were eye level. For a moment he let himself get lost in her oddly shining green eyes, then shook his head. He didn’t have time for this.

“You’re so… damn annoying,” he sighed at last.

“I’ll try to take that as a compliment,” Sakura muttered softly. “Not working, though.”

“It wasn’t meant as one,” Sasuke shot her an irritated look, straightening. “You should have figured it out sooner.”

She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Sasuke continued, as if he hadn’t heard her, “And instead you were too busy kicking, spitting—”

“Alright, alright. I’m not going to apologize, just so you know,” Sakura snapped back. “You’re the one who volunteered to torture me.”

Sasuke just stared at her for a moment, and Sakura was sure he wouldn’t answer. Then he tore his gaze away, paced the small room once, twice and only then he finally spoke.

“Sakura. I have no intention of laying even a hand on you.”

Chapter Text

Sasuke had been watching the pink-haired girl tied to the chair for a whole day now, and still he couldn’t get enough of her. They passed the time in quiet conversation, most of it spent talking about Naruto and his shenanigans. Neither of them would ever admit it to him, but they both enjoyed themselves immensely.
Well, Sasuke may would have admitted it without batting an eye.

If only he could meet Naruto again.
But he couldn’t allow sadness to consume him.

Not now.

When the topic wasn’t Narut, Sakura kept whining for him to let her go. The chair was uncomfortable, she said. Sasuke believed it; he could almost feel his own back hurt just looking at her. But he couldn’t release her. He told her so, but she didn’t care that anyone might walk in at any moment.

“Shouldn’t I be screaming or something?” Sakura tilted her head back, staring at the low ceiling. “Technically, you’re supposed to be torturing me.”

“I can see you’re suffering.”

“Well, then the Sharingan is good for something after all.”

Sasuke couldn’t help a faint smirk but turned his back to her. If there was one thing he had learned about Sakura these past days, it was that she would seize any chance to make fun of him.

“Orochimaru would do anything to move his arms again,” Sasuke said quietly at last. “He’s desperate to be rid of his current body.”

“I bet he is,” Sakura snorted.

“He wants my body–”

“Oh, I bet he does.” Sakura grinned. His nerves were fraying.

“…to take over,” Sasuke rolled his eyes. “He wants my body to take over, Sakura.”

“Well, I’ll bet that too.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Sasuke glared darkly.

“Thoroughly.”

–:–

The cool night air swirled around the shadows moving through the forest. Just like Sakura three weeks earlier, they didn’t want to risk the main road, anyone could recognize them.

Neji went in ahead, cutting the path for the others like some relentless force of nature. The night before, in the middle of darkness, they had slipped out of Konoha, and since then the Hyuuga hadn’t uttered a single word. In the distance, a faint crimson streak already hinted at dawn, the sun would rise in just a few hours. They had marched without pause for a full day and night, but no one complained.

Behind Neji, his cousin followed silently. Hinata, head lowered, lost in her own thoughts, spoke little. Even less than usual. Next to her, Naruto walked with his hands shoved in his pockets, scanning the sky. Staring at the stars, he couldn’t help but wonder if, wherever Sakura was, she too might be gazing at the bright dots on the dark canvas.

Shikamaru and Ino walked a few steps behind, their loosely intertwined fingers a quiet sign that the girl had finally calmed down. Neither of them initiated conversation, but Shikamaru didn’t mind. On the contrary: holding her soft hand in his was enough to make the world seem a little less unbearable.

And so the hours passed in silence.
But not the comforting, friendly kind of silence that enfolds a person. No. This was the silence before a storm. They all knew they were waiting for something. Or rather, that something was waiting for them.

When Neji stopped in front of a large tree, Hinata nearly bumped into him. The others stopped too, waiting.

“We stop here,” Neji’s voice was hoarse. “We need to sleep until sunrise.”

“How long until we get there?” Ino asked, pulling the tie from her hair.

“We don’t even know exactly where ‘there’ is,” Naruto sighed in frustration, but Hinata gently stroked his arm to calm him.

“No, we don’t,” Neji admitted. “But according to the map, there’s a hidden inn along the southwestern border of the Sand. For travelers.”

“And?”

“And we can ask around there,” he continued. “Someone must know something.”

“Well…” Shikamaru shrugged.

“If the map is right, the place is still three or four days walk from here,” Neji declared, dropping his bag onto the grass.

“We can make it in two,” Naruto looked at them with determination. “Then we’ll start asking about the Akatsuki, and in a week I’ll already be back with Sakura…”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Ino cut him off quickly. “Besides, you idiot, in a week Sakura will be shopping with me at my favorite—”

“Whatever happens, happens,” Hinata interrupted, sitting down onto the grass and tugging Naruto down beside her. “We need to rest now, or we won’t even make it to the inn.”

“I’ll take this watch,” Naruto looked around at the others.

Neji only nodded, signaling the rest to lie down. A long, exhausting road still laid ahead. The two blondes exchanged a sharp glance before Shikamaru stepped between them and drew Ino away.

At last, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, hoping that when the golden disc rose on the horizon, everything would magically be set right. They surrendered wearily to dreamless sleep, unaware that Sakura had never reached the infamous criminal organization.

–:–

Konan’s condition hadn’t improved in the past two days. Kisame knew that was to be expected, but the helplessness was eating him alive. He saw Itachi pacing restlessly in and out of her room, or snapping at an anxious Yahiko, but none of it mattered to him. Konan… Konan was dying.

They had all been surprised when she was finally able to explain more clearly what had happened. She told them Itachi’s brat brother hadn’t been alone: a pink-haired ANBU was the one who had cut her face with the poisoned blade, and the reason Sasuke tortured her. Itachi couldn’t imagine who the woman was; none of them had ever heard of a criminal matching the description. Especially since Konan swore she was from Konoha. That fit even less.

Konan couldn’t say what had become of Tobi, but everyone agreed he was likely dead. Sasuke had killed him. Kisame didn't think it was a tragedy that Hidan still hadn’t returned. Whether with Tobi’s corpse or without. No one missed him. Deep down, Kisame hoped they would never see him again. Maybe he had simply decided to leave, vanishing from the Akatsuki without saying goodbye. Well, Kisame wasn't going to complain. Or maybe someone had finally managed to kill him. Even better, he thought.

The dark veins had spread from Konan’s face down her arm, rendering that side useless. She couldn’t speak properly anymore, so she wrote everything on the paper beside her. The poison was progressing slowly; Deidara and Itachi both believed Konan had at least a week left before complete paralysis. So it wasn’t a fast death. And according to Konan, it wasn’t painful either.

Kisame didn’t care. Slow or painless, she would still be dead within a week.
A week.

What unsettled him most was the faint, sorrowful smile that never left her face since Deidara delivered the grim news. No, she just kept smiling softly, sometimes staring into space with a dark, bittersweet gleam in her eyes.

When Kisame finally asked her why she smiled, Konan only glanced at him gently. Why didn’t she rage? Why didn’t she scream? Why didn’t she sob?

“Maybe we deserve this cruel death, don’t you think?” But Kisame felt it wasn’t truly a question. 

The man vowed that no matter how little time she had left, not even an army would drag him from her side. He would be with her until the last moment. Until her last breath.

And after… Afterward, he would change, perhaps.

–:–

“You still think I’m annoying?” Sakura looked up at the ceiling again, as if expecting to see something other than the gray concrete. “Just imagine how annoying I’ll be if you don’t let me go immediately, and I keep you awake all day and night.”

“If someone… if Kabuto walks in…” Sasuke shook his head. “No.”

Sakura exhaled loudly, then looked at him. There was something she had long wanted to ask but hadn’t been able to until now.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

She rolled her eyes—for the second time that day. Being locked up together all day in such a small space actually seemed to improve Sasuke's mood. Or at least his sense of humor, Sakura decided.

“Something else.”

“What?”

“What was it like… What did you do all these years? Here. In this… dark place.” She glanced around, her voice softening.

“You do realize they didn’t keep me in this basement, right?” he frowned.

“So it is a basement?”

“Glad you caught the point.”

“As always,” Sakura nodded.“We didn’t always stay at this hideout anyway. Not at first. Orochimaru didn’t want me deciding to go home by accident,” Sasuke muttered after a while.

“And did you want to?”

“What?”

“Well… go home.”

“You had your one question,” Sasuke growled, and Sakura realized she had struck a sensitive nerve.

She decided to put serious topics aside for now. But something else still gnawed at her. She shot him a cautious look, but he seemed calm—for him, at least. No hatred or murderous intent in his eyes. Maybe just a little… nervousness.

“New question.”

“Can’t we just sit in silence? These last few days it worked so well.”

“And it was boring,” Sakura shrugged. “You were boring. I just didn’t have the heart to say it to your face.”

Sasuke didn’t answer, just snorted.

“What happened to the other one, out in the field?” Sakura didn’t need to clarify.

“Nothing.”

“You think you’re a master liar, but… you’re not.”

“I’m not lying.” He spread his arms, ignoring her mocking tone. “Nothing happened. I let him go. Then… he killed himself.”

“...what?”

“He killed himself. Cut his own throat with a kunai.”

“I get that... I mean, I don’t, but whatever,” Sakura babbled. “Why on earth would you have let him go?”

Sasuke didn’t seem to want to answer. As if the question made him uncomfortable. Sakura knew she had to drag the truth out of him.

“Come on.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes again. “Tell me why you let him go.”

“He gave me something. A sealed… document, or something,” Sasuke ran a hand through his hair, then touched his sleeve. “I’ve had it ever since, but I haven’t read it. Haven’t even opened it.”

“Why not?” Sakura asked, her gaze fixed on his sleeve as if she could see through it.

“Because I was too busy wiping your spit off my face,” he rolled his eyes. Sakura grimaced.

Clearly, he wasn’t going to let that one go anytime soon.

“That doesn’t explain why the great Uchiha Sasuke would let anyone walk free,” she said finally. “For all you know, he handed you a blank piece of paper.”

“He killed himself right after giving it to me,” Sasuke reminded her, then hesitated. “And… it has my clan’s crest on it.”

Sakura sucked in a sharp breath. Of course, that damned fan. The root of it all. She had a guess about what the letter might contain—if anything at all—and she knew it could only bring trouble. For Sasuke. She decided this was another conversation best cut short. One problem at a time, she reminded herself.

Sasuke didn’t seem bothered by the silence, he made no effort to resume talking. But she remembered they were sitting in the middle of a very real problem. They needed to discuss what to do. Surely Sasuke had a plan, but she knew nothing of it.

“So what’s the next step? We can’t stay here forever.”

“We won’t.”

“Care to clue me in?”

“We just have to make it look like it takes me a long time to convince you,” Sasuke sighed, sinking down onto the cold floor beside her. “Orochimaru knows you’re a Konoha kunoichi… not to mention Tsunade’s student. He wouldn’t believe you agreed to heal him so easily.”

“I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk in my life,” Sakura chuckled. Sasuke only groaned wearily. “But you do realize even if I wanted to, I couldn’t heal him, right? Impossible.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sasuke shrugged. “You just have to pretend. Or at least start. That way he’ll be vulnerable and distracted enough for me to kill him.”

Sakura sat quietly, thinking it over. Yes, the plan could work. If they timed it right… it could work. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine.

“But what if they notice I don’t have any… injuries?” she asked, and Sasuke looked at her as if she’d said the dumbest thing in the world.

“Tsukoyomi doesn't leave a mark,” he said flatly, turning his eyes to the ceiling. “And, to answer your earlier question, you also know very well you couldn’t actually scream out loud while you're under that.”

“Oh?” Sakura grinned, raising an eyebrow. "So I could I scream under something else?

“Shut up.”

“Sasuke-kun, did you just blush?”

“You’re annoying.”

Their banter was cut short by the creak of the door. Sakura’s provocative grin faded, Sasuke bit his tongue, and jumped to his feet. Kabuto stood in the doorway, momentarily stunned by the scene before him: Sakura sitting cheerfully in the chair, Sasuke doodling invisible patterns on the floor. No silent screams, no blood, no cruel grin.

Kabuto’s mouth twisted into a smug smile. It took only a few seconds for him to grasp what was going on. Sasuke realized it instantly and lunged for him, but Kabuto raised his hand.

“You know killing me now solves nothing,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door. “The whole place is crawling with guards.”

“Nothing, you say?” Sasuke’s Sharingan flared red. “An old dream of mine would come true, that’s for sure.”

“ Sasuke-kun and his strange dreams, am I right?,” Kabuto chuckled glancing at Sakura. “First his brother, now me…”

“One more word about my brother and your neck will part ways with your head,” Sasuke hissed, drawing his katana.

“Look,” Kabuto massaged the bridge of his nose, feigning fatigue, then gestured toward Sakura. “Believe it or not, I don’t like that Orochimaru-sama is waiting for salvation from this either. And if I think about how I would have to spend the next decades staring at your sour face because the master thinks you’re the perfect vessel, I’ll throw up.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Sasuke pressed the blade to his throat. “Why not kill you right now?”

“You don’t,” Kabuto rolled his eyes. 

Sakura and Sasuke exchanged a glance. The whole thing reeked of suspicion, but about the guards, the rat was right. This was why things had escalated in the first place—Sasuke had realized back on the field that they couldn’t handle so many alone. Especially since many were Orochimaru’s twisted experiments, abilities unknown.

“What’s your plan?” Sakura spoke up for the first time.

“Sasuke-kun goes ahead, distracts Orochimaru-sama, and I sneak you into the forest. After that, you can go wherever you like, I couldn’t care less.”

Sakura didn’t trust him.

“I don’t trust you,” Sasuke said flatly.

Apparently, neither did he.

“But we don’t have another option,” he added, glancing at Sakura. It meant he could get away, but he wouldn't risk Sakura's life.

She understood. And as long as Sasuke faced the snake alone, one way or another, Orochimaru would die, this was their last chance. Uchiha Sasuke would kill him in his own lair. Probably right on his throne. The thought almost made Sakura smile.

By the time Kabuto realized what he’d done by letting them go, Sasuke would retrieve her in the forest and they’d be gone without a trace. No one would ever find them.
Sakura liked that plan too, even though she had no idea what came after. But she could worry about that later, once she wasn’t tied to a chair. Yes, she could definitely wait.

“After you, Sasuke-kun,” Kabuto sneered, though it looked more like a grimace. Now the most important thing was to ensure Orochimaru died at all costs. And as long as this strange, double-edged situation allowed for that, she couldn’t complain. The snake had to die.

Sakura watched as Sasuke cast her one last look, nodded, and walked out. As he passed Kabuto, he clutched his arm suddenly, as if burned, but a second later he was gone. A cold hand clenched Sakura’s heart.

“Let’s go,” Sakura said. “Untie me.”

But Kabuto didn’t answer. He stepped closer, a strange smile on his face, as if thoroughly amused by something she couldn’t understand. Not yet.
He opened his hand and dropped a syringe to the floor. Sakura’s breath caught.

“I can’t believe I actually managed to fool Uchiha Sasuke,” Kabuto murmured to himself, plucking another syringe from a shelf.

Before Sakura could react, bony fingers clamped her arm, followed by the sharp sting of a needle. The last sound she heard from beyond the closed door was the clash of blades.

Chapter Text

Sasuke woke to a sharp scream.

Startled, he glanced around, but saw nothing. But he knew there were gray stone walls around him and he was lying on dirty, damp ground. Heart racing, he swept his reddened gaze across the room again in confusion. It was clearly another basement like the one Sakura had been locked in, but his cell was completely bare. The walls were covered from top to bottom with chakra-suppressing seals.

Sasuke cursed under his breath. One or two seals wouldn’t have been a problem, but Kabuto knew that, which was why he had papered the entire cell with them. No shelves, no medical instruments, no flickering candles, there wasn’t even a chair.

He knew where he was: a cell. What he didn’t understand was how he had ended up here. Slowly, he forced himself into a sitting position, his whole body aching. The heavy clink of chains reached his ears, and he nearly bit his lip bloody to keep from shouting in fury. His eyes blazed as he examined the sealed shackle locked around his right ankle. Not only was he imprisoned, he was chained as well.

He would kill someone for this. He didn’t know who exactly yet, but Kabuto was at the top of his list.

The last thing he remembered was leaving Sakura with that rat. And then… then… When he had stepped out the door, an army of masked guards had been waiting for him. He had tried to fight, but the chance of escape, of victory, had been slim. Impossible, really, because he had to protect Sakura. He could have handled a dozen, perhaps, but there had been far more. And with the element of surprise against him, Sasuke had known he stood no chance: because Sakura was still in Kabuto’s hands. If she hadn’t been… he would have slaughtered every last one of them.

He wasn’t surprised Kabuto had betrayed him. What burned him was that he should have done something, anything, differently. He shouldn’t have prioritized killing the snake; he should have focused on protecting Sakura. She was in this mess because of him. If anything... anything at all... happened to her… he would never forgive himself.

Not that forgiveness was something he ever practiced.

The thought burrowed deep into his mind, and it almost frightened him. The scream.

The scream he’d woken to hadn’t been a dream. And it hadn’t been his. It had been Sakura’s.

Nausea twisted in his gut.

Sakura was with that rat, of that he was certain. Judging by the chill in the air, his cell was a level beneath hers, which explained why he’d heard the sound from above. Architecture had never been the snake’s strength, which might explain the poorly constructed prison. Or maybe it was simply cruelty, he had never intended to host visitors here for long. Sasuke had a guess.

Panic clawed at him, shredding through the calm logic he usually relied on. He had no idea what to do. If a guard came by either to check on him or bring food, he could easily knock them out, disarm them, and carve a path to freedom. But that was exactly what Orochimaru or Kabuto, whichever of them had locked him here, would expect. Which meant the chances of anyone coming by in the next few days were close to zero.

A few days without food. He’d survived worse, he thought bitterly. And even that was preferable to what Sakura must have been enduring.

Frustrated, he slammed his fist against the stone wall. Once. Twice. Again and again, until his pale skin split open, blood trickling in thin streams down his wrist.

He would get out.

No force on earth would keep him chained, starved, imprisoned—and allow Sakura to be harmed. Not without consequences.

Every muscle in his body ached. He was certain the guards had beaten him thoroughly, and more than likely, they hadn’t stopped even after he’d lost consciousness. He could feel the murderous fury in him building, stronger and stronger. He would strangle every last one of them with his own two bare hands.

When Sakura’s screams teared through the air again, that fury multiplied tenfold. Kabuto… oh, he intended to take his time with Kabuto.

For the moment, Sasuke shoved aside his blinding rage and tried tearing the chain from the wall. When it didn’t budge an inch, he twisted as best he could, planted his foot against the stone, and strained again. After minutes of futile effort and curses, he collapsed back on his heels, panting.

Even locked in darkness, his chakra drained nearly dry by the seals, he managed to force a flicker of power into his Sharingan. It let him see, if only dimly. Alone, in the dark, in a freezing cell, chains around his ankle... this was how Uchiha Sasuke had ended up. With a weary sigh, he leaned the back of his head against the damp wall.

His eyes had just begun to close when Sakura’s voice split the silence once more. His body went taut, his hands curling into fists. But he knew he couldn’t break free. Not yet, he told himself.

He had never liked the dark, though for some reason people would have assumed otherwise. He didn’t hate it either, not always. At times the velvety black had even felt like a comforting blanked to hide under. But this was different. This wasn’t darkness he had chosen. Someone had locked him in it. And that was not something that usually happened to Uchiha Sasuke.

He shifted around. His shredded shirt clung damply to his back, sticky with sweat and blood. It was not pleasant, to be bathed in cold sweat and his wounds stung, not to mention the nightmare he’d just escaped thanks to Sakura’s voice. He was grateful he had forgotten it already. He didn’t want to remember. He hated reliving dreams, especially when they were half rooted in reality.

Then he noticed something on the floor by his thigh. A slip of paper, dirty-looking. It must have fallen from his torn sleeve. His breath caught as he picked it up, fingers brushing over the faded fan crest. The stranger on the clearing had given this to him. Until now, he hadn’t dared to open it. Because… because who knew what it might contain.

Because it bore the crest of his clan.

Because the man had killed himself the instant he handed it over.

Because none of the above could mean anything good.

His hands shook as he ripped it open, tossing aside the thicker paper that had held the scroll, along with the fan insignia. None of it mattered anymore. He was the last of them anyway. With him, the once-noble family would die out. He was nothing. A worthless scum who should have died already. He was only alive because of some error in the machinery of fate. A sick joke. An accident. Itachi's cruelty.

A bitter laugh escaped him, scraping the silence, and even he was startled by how rough his voice sounded. He unfolded the paper and stared, stunned, at the endless lines of writing. By his estimate, if he unrolled it completely, it might stretch all the way across to the far wall.

What could anyone possibly want to say to him? That much? And why?

He had to strain his eyes in the dark; the long, sweeping lines blurred together, harder and harder to distinguish. The first entry had been written many years before his birth. Or perhaps the words had been added later to the page, but the date inscribed was at least a century old.

He blinked, the letters dancing before him. His gaze skimmed the lines, searching now only for dates. There were many of them. When he reached the day of the massacre, his mouth went dry. He tried to unroll the paper further, but that was the last entry. Everything ended there, it seemed. He found it ironic. Yet beneath the irony hid a chill that slithered up his spine and clenched tight around his heart.

He blinked again, and the sentences seemed to curl upon themselves, falling off the lines in waves.

Sasuke stared in awe at the ink. His body no longer moved; his mind had slipped away of the reality he knew. Instead, he found himself among old, concrete walls dug into the earth: walls that bore the cursed red-white fan crest. He didn’t notice that these weren’t quite the same walls that held him prisoner in Orochimaru’s lair. Nor did he register that the chain around his ankle was gone. He forgot about them as if it never happened.

“You’ve come.”

Sasuke’s blood froze. The voice came from behind him. He didn’t move, only stared ahead.

He couldn’t remember how he had arrived here, or even what his purpose was, but the instant he heard the voice, his one and only dream surged to his mind.

Slowly, very slowly, Sasuke turned his head, as though seeing for the first time. He realized where he was: the old shrine of his clan.

“So you’ve decided this is where you’ll die?” He now faced his brother. “A bow to your clan?” The last words were spat like venom.

Itachi didn’t dignify his outburst with a reply. He sat not far away, on the bare throne, legs crossed, hands clasped. Around them, the shadows of the past circled like vultures.

Fury and hatred drove Sasuke forward. In a flash, his katana was in hand, and in the next instant, he was before his brother, who had not so much as stirred. The sound as the blade pierced his brother’s chest—splintering bone, rending muscle, sliding in above the heart—was nauseating. Sasuke would have staggered from the rush of it, if only Itachi had given him time.

The man before him blinked lazily, then began to dissolve. First as a stream of blackness dripping down the stone, then breaking apart into a cloud of cawing crows. Sasuke thought he could hear mocking laughter in their sounds, and it stoked his fury even higher.

“Little brother.”

The voice came from behind him again. Sasuke didn’t need to turn. He knew Itachi wasn’t there.

“Look closely.” Now from his right.

“Our eyes are the same.” Now from above.

“Use them.”

The voice echoed from everywhere at once, that hated, taunting tone, as if Itachi were still playing with him.

Itachi’s calm, almost detached demeanor forced Sasuke to realize what he was doing. He was no longer a child who could fling himself screaming at his brother as if he were nothing but a fly to be swatted away.

“Itachi,” Sasuke hissed his brother's name, after so long, he felt it burn his tongue.

“Look,” came Itachi's measured voice. “Who am I?”

Then Itachi materialized before him in full, their faces only inches apart. They locked eyes, and the genjutsu began. Illusion after illusion. Sasuke struck again and again with lethal force, only for each attack to dissolve as Itachi shattered the vision. Itachi’s illusions, too, fell against Sasuke’s resistance.

In desperation, Sasuke hurled his shadow-shuriken from above. One embedded itself in Itachi’s thigh, and Sasuke recoiled in disbelief. A trap, surely. Another genjutsu. But he couldn’t waste the chance. Seizing his katana, he lunged, the blade infused with crackling Chidori. It drove through his brother’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground.

Itachi coughed blood but still pressed him with more senseless questions. “Do you see now?”

“All I see is your death,” Sasuke snarled.

Itachi nodded once—and then the crows burst apart again, leaving Sasuke’s Sharingan flaring wildly in all directions.

Nothing made sense.

What was happening? Why couldn’t he remember how he had come here? Why couldn’t he recall what had happened before? Why did Itachi keep slipping from his grasp? Why was he here at all? Why, why, why?

It felt like a game of cat and mouse, yet he wasn’t convinced Itachi was the cat.

He had imagined this moment all the time. He had killed his brother in his dreams in more ways than he could count. None of them had been like this.

And the things he had planned to say...? What of them now? The words he had sworn he would speak when this day came…? He shook his head. No matter. Whatever happened, he would end it here and now. He would end Itachi.

For the first time in his life, he saw his brother as weak. His own body, though, felt distant, not entirely under his control. In the heat of battle he caught himself wondering why he had moved as he did, why he had chosen one technique over another, why he hadn’t foreseen Itachi’s next use of the Sharingan. It was as though he were watching through frosted glass. Impossible. Unless…

A searing pain burned through his left arm.

Instinctively, his gaze searched for Itachi before he looked down at his own injury. He found his brother leaning against a wall, arms folded, expression unreadable, however his crimson eyes glowed manic. He cried blood. Sasuke recoiled. 

Itachi spoke again, his voice low but soft. Closer. Real. “Who am I?”

For the first time, panic swept through Sasuke’s body. Black flames licked at his arm, creeping across his side. He couldn’t survive this. The realization came slowly. The sound filling the chamber was his own scream. He smelled burning flesh. He threw up.

“Who am I, Sasuke?”

Nii-san… Nii-san! Sasuke almost pleaded. His ears were ringing. Tears blurred his vision, tears of agony, betrayal, hatred. So this was his brother’s choice. This was how he would settle their final, frayed bond—by burning him to nothing.

Sasuke would be reduced to ash, as their clan had been, as their childhood had been. Nothing, nothing at all would remain. Not even his memory.

And yet, through the haze of pain, something pierced his thoughts. Memories...

He blinked up at Itachi as he collapsed to his knees. Blood trickled from the corner of his brother’s mouth. His face remained expressionless, but Sasuke noticed how heavily he leaned on the wall, as though he could no longer stand without it.

Sasuke began thinking. Amaterasu should have consumed him long ago, yet he still lived, still moved. How? If Sasuke forced the pain away from his mind, he could feel the chill of the chamber against his skin. His sleeve wasn’t even burnt. Was the Amaterasu only another genjutsu? But Itachi’s eyes…

Dragging himself up from the ground, pride discarded, Sasuke reached for his katana once more. Step by step, halting, he advanced on his brother. The few feet between them stretched out endlessly, and the closer he came, the clearer it became that Itachi could no longer move at all.

Sasuke knew, deep down, that this wasn’t something he himself had done. Yet his mind refused to dwell on the thought, it was as if he did not have full control over his own mind. His body simply moved on its own, as though some instinct greater than reason had taken over.

He banished the idea from his head as easily as he had pushed aside every earlier doubt. His head was suddenly flooded with images of his mother. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his weapon as he slowly, very slowly, raised it before him, nerves strung taut, waiting for that sickening sound—the blade tearing through his brother’s chest. This time for real. This time for the last time.

In the next heartbeat the air locked in his lungs. Itachi pushed away from the wall with great effort. Though Sasuke braced for an attack, there was none. His brother swung himself straight into the outstretched katana, the edge sliding into him as his chin came to rest against Sasuke’s shoulder.

Sasuke felt he might vomit again. He froze, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream.

“I’m sorry, Sasuke,” his brother rasped, the voice that had once been soft now frighteningly close to his ear. “There won’t be a next time.”

Sasuke drew shallow, ragged breaths. Blood ran over his hands in fresh waves. Not his own. He felt Itachi’s body shudder against his, then go slack. It lasted only a moment. That was all it took for Uchiha Itachi’s life to fade—an instant.

His brother.

The nausea returned, his whole body trembling as he carefully laid his brother’s now fragile, lifeless form onto the cold stone floor. He didn’t understand how it had happened. Nothing made sense. This was never how he imagined it would be. What had happened?

It shouldn’t have been this easy to defeat Itachi. Itachi shouldn’t have died so easily.

He shut his eyes, refusing to let the tears that burned behind them escape. He had gotten what he wanted, fulfilled the desire he had chased for so long. He didn’t know how long he sat there beside his brother’s stiff body.

When he opened his eyes again, he could barely see through the dark. Like a hunted animal he tried to rise, but the chain around his ankle held fast. Confusion gripped him as he forced his Sharingan to focus. This wasn’t the first time alarm bells had begun to toll inside his mind. What was happening?

A scream.

He remembered how he had gotten here. Sakura.

He remembered that he had been reading.

Frantically he groped around himself until his fingers closed on the tattered, coarse paper. Holding it close to his face, squinting, he spelled out the final lines. His heart sunk.

They weren’t the same as the ones he had first read at the bottom of the page. A few new lines had been scrawled in carelessly, like a footnote. Itachi’s death—dated a week prior.

He couldn’t comprehend it. His trembling fingers held the paper up before him, afraid the letters would start tumbling and dancing again, but nothing happened. They lay there in precise, military order, unmoving on the page, recounting the full story of the Uchiha clan: founding to annihilation. Uchiha Itachi’s life… and his death.

Sasuke didn’t care if he went blind by the end of it, he began to read.

Chapter Text

Naruto was right. They really did reach the inn in just two days.

Shikamaru was lazily drinking up his tasteless, watery soup when he caught a fragment of conversation from a few seats away. He gave a subtle nod toward Neji, who then accidentally dropped his fork. Ino, catching on without a word, nudged it forward with her foot so that it slid right under the table where three men were talking. It landed barely a step away from them.

All three wore black hooded tops and matching pants: some sort of uniform, it seemed. Feigning embarrassment, Neji got up and bent down to pick up his fork, all the while listening.

“…and you should’ve seen his face!” one of the men laughed, taking a long swig from his cup.

“Don’t even start, I’ve been waiting years to teach that arrogant bastard a lesson,” his companion said, slapping the table. “What was he so full of himself for, anyway? Because he’s the last of his clan? I’d be ashamed of that, personally.”

“And those red eyes of his,” the third snorted. “Didn’t do him much good the other day!”

“Only thing I regret,” the first one chuckled darkly, “is that the master kept that pink-haired bitch for himself…”

Neji straightened, his face pale, Shikamaru was watching him closely. Not that the Hyuuga was ever particularly rosy-cheeked, but now his lips were pressed into an even tighter line than usual.

“We need a new plan,” he muttered as he sat back down. Ino immediately exchanged a worried glance with Hinata.

“What did you hear?”

“Nothing good,” Neji said flatly, his expression unreadable. “I think– no, I’m sure- Sakura was with Sasuke. Or rather– still is. With Orochimaru.”

“WHAT?!”

-

Sasuke was still sitting in the dark. Hours, maybe days, he couldn’t tell. There was no light in the cold cell, and he’d been trying to rest his eyes, his Sharingan... No, what he really wanted to rest was his mind.

Slowly he lifted a hand to his face and, with a bitter little smile, realized he’d been crying. Maybe for hours, maybe for days, the tears hadn’t stopped and hadn't dried. He wondered if there was anything left in him to cry about.

Everything he’d learned… or rather, read...

He’d only read it: that didn’t make it true. He couldn’t be sure whether it was the truth, a version of the truth, or an outright lie. 

There was only one other person left who could tell him the truth: Uchiha Itachi.

Now, again, he wanted nothing more than to find his brother. But if that genjutsu had shown him his own memories… then… it meant he himself had killed his brother. It must have happened during that mission near the Sand border. Before he met Sakura.

He could, if he tried long and hard, imagine a scenario where someone was able to trap him with a strong enough genjutsu to make him forget what happened. What he couldn’t imagine was why anyone would do that. 

Still, he knew he mustn’t jump to conclusions. If there was any hope of getting answers, this was it. Ironically, he had to hope the genjutsu had failed: that he hadn’t actually killed his brother a week ago without remembering it. Absurd. Ridiculous.

You don’t just kill Uchiha Itachi. Even if Sasuke didn’t remember, someone would have heard. It would have been talked about. Nothing made sense. His suppressed fury flared again, he punched the wall. Nothing made sense.

He had to know what happened to Itachi. If he had killed him… he bit his lip to choke back a desperate scream. Suddenly he felt very young again, a little boy who needed his brother to tell him everything would be all right.

If he let himself drown in despair now, he’d never leave this place. And Sakura…! It was his responsibility to keep her safe. He knew, painfully, he’d already failed at that.

He forced his emotions to the back of his mind, pushing away everything that wasn’t necessary for survival and tried so hard to think rationally. He had to find Itachi.

But he couldn’t do that sitting in a dark cell with chains around his ankle. It was time to move.

He wasn’t sure how many days had passed, but he was certain at least one had. They might be trying to starve him, but Orochimaru wouldn’t want the body ruined. 

“Kabuto,” he rasped. “If you don’t come right now I’ll tear my own heart out, and Orochimaru won’t get the last Uchiha body."

After a moment of silence, he added. "I don’t fucking joke.”

No answer. Still, he heard whispering outside the door and footsteps receding, his bluff had done its job. Not even a few minutes later he heard steps approaching.

The lock rattled, the heavy iron door swung, and Kabuto appeared in the cramped space torch in his hand, the flames throwing one-sided light across his face and making his grin especially grotesque.

“Dramatic as always, Sasuke-kun,” the rat chuckled, closing the door behind him. “But don’t you think the heart-tearing bit was a little over the top?”

“You're here, aren't you?” Sasuke snarled, and his Sharingan flared, an odd glow in the dark. What a fool, he thought.

Something in Kabuto snapped. He saw the chains were gone: panic struck his face as he looked for a route out, but the door was gone too. Just solid stone where it had been. He turned and found Sasuke no longer where he had been; the boy was suddenly standing against the other wall. Kabuto’s eyes widened and he stumbled back until he hit the stone where Sasuke had been sitting.

Sasuke watched the rat panic with bored, terrible calm. He unhooked the ring of keys from Kabuto’s belt, found the right one, and slipped the shackle free.

Dizzy after days without food, he stood and took the torch from Kabuto. He pressed the flame to the man’s trousers; the fabric caught quickly.

Kabuto came out of the genjutsu with a scream and heard the slam of a door. In a blink, Sasuke had knocked out the two guards posted outside and was racing down the corridor. In a stairwell he found a crate with weapons, strapped his katana to his waist, grabbed two kunai, and kept running.

One floor up he found the cell where they’d first taken Sakura — empty. The corridor echoed with absence. He smashed the doors open as he ran, fear and worry driving him on. He ran on, battering at every door; his patience was wearing thin.

Finally he found the right room. The door hadn’t even been closed properly. It made it worse; Kabuto hadn’t even bothered thinking that Sakura might escape. The frame was ripped, but that didn’t matter.

He went straight to her. She was tied to a chair. There was no time to examine her wounds, getting her out as fast as possible was the only thing that mattered. Sasuke cut the ropes and scooped the unconscious girl into his arms like a rag doll, then fled for the nearest back exit, glancing over his shoulder the whole way.

They passed the waterfall; for a brief moment the thought crossed his mind that he wouldn't miss it. In fact, he wouldn’t miss any of it, not even that waterfall he used to visit at night. Nothing at all.

When the half-buried building was no more than a blur behind them, Sasuke allowed himself to slow down a bit and took a few desperate breaths. He needed them, he could barely breathe. He had probably never run that fast in his life. He’d never been so afraid for anyone else.

Gently he put Sakura down and propped her back against a tree. He wasn’t going back, Orochimaru could wait. Right now he had to get Sakura somewhere safe. He bent to check her injuries when his Sharingan picked up motion in the distance.

Four figures in black were approaching. They weren’t far. Sasuke nearly howled with rage, but he quickly assessed the situation. He could handle them easily, but what if more of them showed up? What if they were overtaken? Sakura was unconscious, her weapons taken so she couldn’t defend herself. 

For a moment he considered the katana at his waist, then he drew it and plunged the point into the earth beside her. If anything happened to him, he wanted a weapon at her side. Then he turned and ran back along the waterfall to meet their pursuers armed only with two kunai.

-

Hidan never thought he’d see the day when he’d say it, but he was bored out of his mind. His carefree life was boring the hell out of him. Or rather, his carefree days, though by now, that was his life, wasn’t it?

And yet there he was, staring indifferently at another alluringly dressed girl, lazily lifting his glass to take a sip from the sake burning his insides, carelessly laying down his cards at the end of each round, counting his winnings with the same dull disinterest.

Unbelievable. Even to himself. But yes, Hidan was bored.

Where was the excitement? The killing, the blood, the screams?

He didn’t even mind the pain anymore when his body parts tore apart—it was at least something. Anything.

One night, after a few drinks, he tried starting a fight (no reason, really) but within minutes, he was simply thrown out into the rain.

He hadn’t planned on going back to the Akatsuki at all. He’d been toying with the idea of leaving long before, and that last mission had been the perfect chance to disappear. Yahiko was far too busy worrying over Konan to bother tracking him down.

As for Tobi... no way in hell. Hidan was sure the vultures had long since picked that idiot clean. Dead one way or another. He suspected the little Uchiha had been the one to finish him off, though every time the thought crossed his mind, he got chills. As if someone, maybe Jashin-sama himself, were trying to tell him something. But honestly? He didn’t care.

Still, if he ever did decide to go back, he’d probably have to bring Tobi’s body with him.

Not that he wanted to go back!

But that’s what Kisame had said… and ignoring Kisame’s advice had never been smart.

Not that he was planning to follow it!

But still… showing up empty-handed, after days... weeks...

Hidan slammed his glass onto the table. Enough whining. Time for a hunt.

If he couldn’t find Tobi, he could always snoop around Orochimaru’s little playground. He was sure he’d find something fun there.

And so, one impulsive decision lead to another and Hidan stood up and left, abandoning the stuffy air of a brothel and a relieved barkeep behind.

He knew the snake’s current hideout wasn’t far, because Orochimaru’s subjects had been visiting the inn every day for the past week. A few well-placed questions, two broken noses, and, fine, one dead guy later, he had full directions.

He was already rehearsing what he’d say when he returned to those cloaked idiots, with some special gift from the snake. He didn’t yet know what that would be, but it’d be valuable, for sure. He could already see the triumphant grin on his own face.

When he finally arrived, he was surprised to find no guards at all. Odd.

Still, he kept to the shadows, he wasn’t here to fight, not this time. He just needed to get something – a person, a clue, anything – to make sure he didn’t show up empty-handed. Preferably still in one piece.

He skirted around the massive waterfall and was just about to slip into the trees, following what looked like a path toward the entrance, when something caught his eye. Something pink. And something metallic.

He crept closer, blinked and surmise was visible on his face. That almost never happened.

At the base of a tree sat an unconscious girl, a katana lying by her leg. But that wasn’t what caught his attention first. The sword was too large for a kunoichi’s usual weapon, and her pale skin, marked with the unmistakable ANBU tattoo, was slashed in a dozen fine, deliberate cuts.

He didn’t even need to check to know what he was looking at. Those precise, surgical lines, he'd recognize Kabuto’s handiwork anywhere. The rage hit him instantly. That filthy rat had been experimenting on people again. Even among the Akatsuki, Kabuto had a reputation.

Still… this might actually save him a trip underground. His ticket back to the Akatsuki was sitting right here. He had no idea who the girl was, but anyone who had survived Orochimaru’s lair, and escaped, wasn’t just anyone. Whether as an informant or a fighter, the cloaked idiots could make good use of her.

So Hidan hoisted the tattered ANBU girl over his shoulder, tied the unfamiliar katana to his belt, and started walking in the opposite direction of where he’d first come.

It would’ve been a full day’s journey back to the hideout, but he figured, if he pushed himself, he could make it in a little less. Especially, since he felt real jolly. 

-

Itachi was methodically examining Konan’s left arm, which the woman hadn’t been able to move for hours now. Yet in her eyes, he saw no fear. Only a kind of bittersweet sadness. He could understand that, if he was being honest with himself.

He, too, didn’t recoil from or fear the idea of death. Ever since he was young, he had been waiting for his time to come. But he knew there was only one person he would allow to help him cross over and that person wasn’t within reach yet.
So he would go on living, he would force himself to survive, prolonging his meaningless existence and suffering in this cruel world.

He lived only to die.

His gaze met Kisame’s darkly gleaming eyes above Konan’s deathbed, and he could already tell the man was about to speak when a knock at the door interrupted them. A moment later, a blond head peeked through the crack between the door and the frame. Deidara didn’t want to disturb Konan so he simply motioned silently to the other two.

Itachi and Kisame followed him reluctantly, with furrowed brows, but the moment they reached the main room and saw Hidan, Kisame immediately turned on his heel. Or rather, he would have, if the ever-attentive Itachi hadn’t caught him by the arm. He’d noticed a strange weapon hanging out from beneath Hidan’s cloak. Deidara scratched the back of his head awkwardly, glancing between the newcomer and the pair in front of him.

“Where’s the boss?” Hidan spread his arms, his voice strained with forced cheerfulness.

“Haven’t seen him in days,” Deidara sighed at last, when it became clear no one else planned to answer. “He hasn’t come out of his room.”

“Yeah, I can see how torn up you are about that,” Hidan grinned, and the blond only grimaced.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Deidara despised Yahiko and avoided him whenever possible. Then again, everyone did, some were just better at hiding their dislike.

“What are you doing here?” Kisame stepped forward threateningly.

“We thought we’d never see you again,” Itachi said coldly, his expression unreadable as he glanced over Hidan’s disheveled clothes.

“Yeah, ‘Tachi, I thought the same,” Hidan ran a hand through his hair, then looked aside. “But then I stumbled upon something really interesting.”

“I don’t care about your stupid games, especially not now,” Kisame growled before turning and stomping back toward Konan’s room.

“She’s in that bad of a shape? Come on, don’t tell me—”

“She’s been poisoned,” Itachi said in a flat, almost detached tone, as if discussing the weather. "She is dying."

“She’s got maybe a day or two left,” Deidara nodded. He tried to sound equally calm, but his voice quivered slightly.

“Who did it?” Hidan’s eyes flashed. He didn't think it was that serious. “That filthy little… your brother?”

“No,” Itachi’s gaze darkened. “All we know is that it was a pink-haired ANBU. A woman.”

Hidan’s mouth fell open.
Talk about luck.

“Well, I’ve got great news for you, my friends!” he grinned, this time genuinely.

“Not interested,” Deidara sneered, stepping back. “Get lost before Yahiko sees you.”

“Oh, I’m not scared of him,” Hidan waved dismissively, stepping further into the room with a wide smirk. “I brought a gift.”

“Don’t tell me—”

“Didn’t find the idiot, but trust me, it’s no big loss,” he interrupted, “We’re better off without him anyway. Still, I dropped by Orochimaru’s little hideout,” he went on, ignoring Deidara’s scowl. “And you won’t believe what I found near the catacombs!”

“Is this conversation going somewhere?” Deidara frowned. “Because if it’s just another one of your stories, I’m out. I’ve got things to do.”

“Just listen to me for a damn second!” Hidan barked, then turned his gaze to the silent Uchiha. “I ran into an unconscious, pink-haired ANBU.” He articulated every word with eerie precision.

Silence fell over the room. Deidara thought he was joking. Hidan waited for applause. Itachi, meanwhile, was already piecing together the connection between this mysterious ANBU, his brother and... apparently, Orochimaru.

“So… where is she?” Deidara asked skeptically. “Should I get Kisame?”

“Not far,” Hidan shrugged. “Didn’t want her to run off, so I tied her to a tree.”

Sakura opened one eye with great effort. Then, after a struggle, the other. Her head was throbbing and, actually, everything hurt. Even breathing burned her lungs. The light of the setting sun stabbed at her eyes.

She lifted her head slowly and realized with growing dread that she was no longer in that dark basement with Kabuto. The chair and ropes were gone. New ones, they now looped around her neck and waist, binding her to a… tree? Someone had tied her to a tree?

She had no idea where she was. Or why. She didn’t know where Sasuke was. Or Kabuto. How had she even escaped?

All she remembered was pain. Nothing but pain.
Senseless, unending pain.

She gasped sharply, then flinched. She didn’t remember everything Kabuto had done to her, but some memories burned too vividly to forget.

Her head was foggy, her broken wrist and knee screamed in agony, but she had no choice. She tried to move when suddenly she heard footsteps approaching. Quickly, she shut her eyes again and went limp, feigning unconsciousness.

It's more than one person, she noted silently. The voices were getting closer, sharp, irritated fragments of conversation reaching her ears. Then, suddenly, silence. They stopped right in front of her. One person was standing there so close and tall they blocked the sunlight, casting a shadow over her face.

Sakura didn’t dare open her eyes. She knew what to do, one of the first things they taught them in training. When captured, pretending to be unconscious was often the best way to gather information your captors would otherwise never reveal.

“What’s this?” a deep, gruff voice asked.

“Not sure…” came a smoother, almost mocking tone. “But to me, it looks like a girl.”

“You’re telling me this is the one who beat Konan?” the gruff voice snorted.

Sakura nearly flinched at the name. That fight hadn’t gone as planned—at all.
She only hoped the woman’s death had been quick.

But if these men were talking about Konan… then. Oh, God.

Sakura had to fight to keep herself from panicking outright. She’d never been this scared, not even at Orochimaru's place.

The Akatsuki. The Akatsuki had found her.

No, maybe they’d hunted her down after learning what happened to Konan. They wanted revenge. Was that why they’d captured her? They could’ve just killed her on the spot.

“There are too many coincidences,” said a new, unfamiliar voice. “And I told you, I found her right in front of the hideout. She’s ANBU. One way or another, she might be useful.”

“I don’t know…”

“We should interrogate her,” said the mocking one again. “At least then we’ll know more.”

“Grab her. Let’s take her before she wakes up.”

“No need,” a new, low voice spoke, cold. Sakura couldn’t stop herself from flinching, when it continued. “She’s already awake.”

Her eyes flew open, and they locked onto the first thing in front of her. The figure blocking the sun looked down at her with dark, gleaming black eyes.

Sakura’s breath caught in her throat, and her blood ran cold. Even if she hadn’t known him as a child, she still would have recognized that face instantly.

Uchiha Itachi.

Sakura did what any reasonable person would do in her place, when Uchiha Itachi and half the Akatsuki were staring down at her from above with grim expressions. She took a deep breath and waited for death.

Itachi’s Sharingan flickered to life, and Sakura’s already hazy mind lost its fragile hold on reality. Suddenly, she could only think of the one person whose eyes carried the same rivers of crimson blood.

“Sasuke…” The name slipped from her lips in a whisper.

The sound of the name cut through her mind like a blade. Where was Sasuke now? Why wasn’t he by her side? Had he left her again? 

The men above her didn’t react. They simply watched the girl in silence. Her pink hair hung in messy strands across her face, hiding most of her features except for the faint glimmer of her squinting eyes.

Kisame thought he could easily strangle her right then and there for what she’d done to Konan, though he forced himself to stay calm. Deidara’s attention was fixed on the poison that, according to Konan, had come from this very kunoichi. Meanwhile, Hidan congratulated himself proudly, it seemed the prodigal son couldn’t have brought home a better souvenir.
Only Itachi regarded the ANBU with his usual indifference.

So Konan hadn’t been completely mistaken after all, this strange ANBU really had been with his brother.

Itachi had never cared for anything that wasn’t his duty. That was why he trained so hard as a child, why he became the best, why he accepted the most thankless task anyone could ever be given. Because he knew how to put himself last.

After that, only one duty remained to him: his brother. Sasuke had become his sole responsibility.

From then on, nothing ever mattered to Itachi except his brother, and the day of his own death, which crept closer with every year Sasuke grew stronger. It was a straight path. A clean snap.

He hadn’t been pleased when Sasuke sought power under Orochimaru, but he’d accepted it. His brother had to forge his own road, since Itachi himself had destroyed the one that had been paved for him. And so Itachi had sought his own penance within the Akatsuki, a redemption that could never truly exist anyway.

For years, he had known his calculations were correct. Sasuke would train under Orochimaru, grow stronger, and eventually seek him out – to kill him. That was the only way it made sense. The only way it could ever be right.

Itachi lived so that he could die.

That was why he woke up every morning, and why he hadn’t taken his own life in his weakest moments – though his katana’s edge had often seemed almost merciful from time to time.
He endured because he knew a day would come when he could give Sasuke justice through his own death. And that, he would never steal from his brother. Not that, too.

But now, as he looked into the unfocused green eyes of the pink-haired ANBU — the girl who had spoken his brother’s name so easily, the way he himself hadn’t dared to in years — he felt the carefully constructed order of his world unravel before him. His plan had never included a third person. Not someone connected to Sasuke.

Itachi was the first to speak.

“Who are you?” he asked, stepping closer.

Sakura flinched and looked up at him, her hair falling aside and revealing her face at last.

It wasn’t like her to lose her voice, but maybe that was the curse of the Uchiha for her. They stole the breath from her lungs, one way or another.

Deidara rolled his eyes but said nothing. None of them did. They couldn’t really blame Itachi for his interest, not after the girl had spoken the one name that could command his attention in an instant. And besides, she didn’t look like a real threat.

Kisame even hissed softly when he got a clearer look at her. She was just a girl. A child, really. The one Hidan claimed had escaped from the Snake’s den.

But how? And what did she have to do with Itachi’s brother? The questions kept piling up in their head.

Sakura, for her part, felt like she was about to faint again. The weight of their stares pressed the air from her lungs. She heard the question, but couldn’t answer. Who was she, really?

An ANBU? No, more like a deserter now than an official one.

The Fifth Hokage’s apprentice? Tsunade would probably deny ever knowing her.

Sasuke’s old teammate? Team Seven was long gone.

Then what could she possibly say to this man with porcelain-cut features, waiting so patiently for an answer? That she was Haruno Sakura? And who even was Haruno Sakura anymore?

Itachi crouched down in front of her. He didn’t know her, but to him, in this moment, she was nothing but a possible mean that could lead, perhaps, to his brother’s salvation, and in turn, to his own. He didn’t fear her, not because he underestimated her, but because he understood people too well.

One look into those green eyes, and even without the Sharingan, he could see a map to her soul.

His eyes still crimson, Itachi reached out and brushed her hair back from her face. It was an oddly intimate gesture, one that might have seemed out of place coming from him, but it was instinctive. He wanted her to understand that although they stood on opposite sides, she didn’t have to fear them right now. The Akatsuki were many things, but mindless cruelty wasn’t usually one of them. If she cooperated, if she gave them what they wanted, there would be no needless suffering. Not like what she’d endured in Orochimaru’s hideout.

And though the Akatsuki weren’t known for taking prisoners, this was a special case.

Hidan seemed to think so too. For all his love of meaningless pain and bloodshed, even he had been forced to admit, while dragging the little ANBU all the way here, that something about her situation was strange.
To him she looked like a broken-winged bird; of course, he’d have loved to break her further, but only after drawing her close. Nothing personal, that was just Hidan. He bowed to no one but Jashin-sama, and Jashin demanded blood and sweat from his followers in exchange for divine favor.

Hidan claimed it had been Jashin’s voice that led him to her, and told him to bring along the foreign weapon lying beside her. Now he unhooked the beautifully crafted katana from his belt and swung it lazily in front of her face.

“Looks familiar?”

At first Sakura didn’t realize he was speaking to her. She was still staring into Itachi’s eyes. Slowly, she forced herself to look down at the weapon.
Sasuke… Sasuke! Why wasn’t his sword with him?

Panic threatened to take over her again. But she was ANBU, she’d trained with the best, fought alongside the best. She couldn’t afford to fall apart now. And, Sasuke was Uchiha Sasuke, he could take care of himself better than anyone else in this world. She had to believe that. She had to push away every thought that said otherwise.

“The Uchiha kid’s?” Kisame grunted, frowning. “What happened to him?”

Sakura’s eyes flicked to Itachi, still crouching before her. His face didn’t so much as twitch at the mention of his brother, and somehow that hurt more than anything else.
You’d do anything to see him, she thought. So why won’t you ask what you really want to know?

But Kisame, thankfully asked for him.

She didn’t know any more about Sasuke’s fate than they did. All she could do was hope he’d escaped too, that he’d slipped away while she was unconscious.

“Who are you?” Itachi asked again. And Sakura heard what he didn’t say: Who are you to him?

She said nothing. Just met his gaze.

The poor ANBU looked like she really had been swallowed by a giant snake, chewed, and spat out. Her face was mostly intact except for a few shallow cuts and a bruise on her cheeckbone on one side. But dark spots ringed her neck like a grotesque collar. Her right wrist was bent at an unnatural angle, her knee twisted sideways. Deidara had to look away, stomach turning. Her shirt was torn, her breathing uneven and whistling slightly through her chest. A long, angry gash ran down her thigh, still an ugly shade of red, and smaller burns and cuts marked nearly every inch of skin. Kisame recognized the scorch of a chakra blade and almost felt sorry for her.

Itachi repeated his question quietly, though to Sakura it sounded like it came from centuries away. Maybe she’d fallen into a genjutsu, but no, it wasn’t the Sharingan keeping her there. It was him.

“Hm?” Itachi lifted her chin lightly.

The sudden touch startled her, snapping her out of that silent dream she’d been having inside his gaze. She blinked, once, twice, still unsure what to say.

She had imagined meeting the Akatsuki a thousand different ways. She had imagined meeting Itachi. None of the scenarios went like this. She was utterly lost.

Itachi stood. “Let's take her back.”

“I’m guessing she can’t walk,” Deidara muttered, almost to himself.

“Her leg’s broken,” Hidan noted, stepping closer. “Who’s carrying her?”

“You dragged her this far,” Deidara sighed. “Keep going.”

“We could just drag her back in the mud,” Kisame said coldly. “After what she did to Konan.”

Silence fell. Sakura flinched at Konan’s name and lowered her head even more. Her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment, it would have been so easy to just let go, to drift off and finally rest… to sleep off Kabuto. The thought snapped her awake again. No. Not that.
If she let them take her, especially after what had happened with Konan, she was done for. Sasuke had gotten away, but Itachi wouldn’t spare her.

Her body trembled, panic scraping against her ribs like glass, but she forced herself to breathe, to stay still.

Maybe not everything was lost, she thought when she heard Hidan say: “We’ve got the one who poisoned Konan right here, maybe she can cure her too. The only question is whether she’ll do it willingly…”

“…or if we’ll have to persuade her,” Deidara finished, glancing at the girl.

Sakura almost didn’t believe her ears. Konan is alive? Maybe Hidan was right. Maybe not everything was lost, for her, either.

For the first time, she lifted her head fully. The men got a proper look at her face, and even they seemed surprised. She was younger than they’d thought, far too young for the scars and the mask of exhaustion she wore. But beneath it all, she was unmistakably beautiful.

“I’ll persuade her good,” Kisame said, crouching down and grabbing her by the throat with barely contained fury.

“Hey, easy,” Deidara said, placing a hand on Kisame’s shoulder. “We still need her.”

“She poisoned Konan,” Kisame hissed, his grip tightening anyway.

Tears burned in Sakura’s eyes, but she shut them quickly. She couldn’t bear another second of this day. She’d pushed Kabuto to the edge of her mind, but the memory clawed back, his voice, her own screams echoing in her head. She wouldn’t cry. Not here. She just stayed still, silent, focused on not letting the tears fall.

“Let’s go,” Itachi repeated quietly. “Hidan, you carry her.”

Deidara and Hidan pried Kisame’s hands away. Deidara glanced down at Sakura, taking in her injuries more carefully now. She hadn’t gotten them in a fight, that much was obvious. His stomach turned again. With a resigned sigh, he began cutting the ropes that bound her wrists. She didn’t resist, didn’t even look at them. She just stared down at the grass, motionless, even after the rope snapped and fell away. Understandable, Deidara thought. After all, two of the deadliest killers in the Five Nations were standing less than a breath away from her face.

Hidan slung her limp body over his shoulder with a grunt, muttering something under his breath about its being unfair. Deidara rolled his eyes but didn’t comment; Kisame stalked ahead in silence, his jaw set tight. Deidara kept stealing glances at her, something about the faint marks along her arms and neck didn’t sit right. He’d seen torture before, but this… this was surgical. He wasn’t sure whether to feel disgust or pity. Maybe both.

As they began their journey back, the forest around them grew heavier, the air thick with the smell of rain and earth.

Something about her tugged at Itachi’s memory, though he couldn’t place it. Sakura fought to stay conscious, terrified that if she lost control, Kabuto would surface. But Itachi saw it, the way her eyes lost focus, her lids growing heavier and heavier. Her eyes fluttered shut.

The last thing she saw was Itachi’s calm, impassive face, framed by the deep red of his cloak. For a fleeting second, she thought she saw something human in his gaze but it vanished as darkness claimed her again.

Chapter Text

Sakura woke to the indignity of a cold hand slapping her, and not gently. Her head throbbed, she could barely open her eyes, she realized she was lying on the ground; the floor felt rough beneath her back. For a moment she thought she was still in Orochimaru’s lair, still in Kabuto’s hands, doomed to more endless pain and humiliation. As the rat had smiled every time Sakura failed to choke back a cry when the chakra blade nicked another muscle, as he’d methodically smashed her knee and broken her wrist, cut into her flesh with surgical precision... The memory rose up again.

But a faint image of the Akatsuki’s red cloud flashed through her mind too. What if this was only another nightmare? Fear stiffened her as she focused on the hand waving before her face, then an inexplicable sob of relief tore out of her when she saw the soft-featured, pale, blue-skinned man hovering above her.

“Typical reaction to Kisame,” Deidara observed.
“Move aside, I’ll do it,” Hidan pushed him gently and squatted down so the girl could see his face and eyes. “Hey there!”

When Sakura didn’t answer and only stared wide-eyed around her, Hidan leaned in and grabbed her chin. He held it firmly—but not hard enough to hurt—and turned the ANBU’s face toward him. “We don’t have much time, so I’ll get to the point. Can you hear me? Loud and clear?”

Sakura still wasn’t fully conscious, she couldn’t answer. A tremor ran through her whole body that she couldn’t stop. A sharp, decisive slap landed on the right side of her face and even her head was knocked to the other side. It stung. The sudden shock stole her breath. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced for more, but there came no more. 

“Hidan…!” Yahiko appeared in the doorway. Kisame had told him everything. “We still need her, don’t make her useless, please.”

“Ah, boss! Good to be back!” Hidan grinned, still squatting by the ANBU. “Don’t worry, she’s fine.”

“I wouldn’t say that…” Deidara grimaced.

“Let's try again,” Hidan sighed and returned his attention to the pink-haired girl. “Can you hear me?” He snapped his fingers before her face, then looked at her resignedly, addressing his former (present?) coworkers. “Do you think she’s in there? What did that rat do to her?”

Itachi thought she was—more or less—conscious. He could have forced his way into the ANBU’s mind, but he never offered that service lightly, as now using his eyes was agony every time. So he remained silent and watched the scene unfold. He didn’t think the girl posed any real threat to them. Despite her battered state, and the fact that she seemed to have really poison Konan, something about her radiated the same presence Konoha ninjas usually had. Itachi, a Konohan shinobi, felt it in his bones.

“Nod if you can hear me!” Hidan tried again, this time with a more softer slap.

Slowly, minutely, the ANBU nodded.

“Well, that’s something! Good girl. Are you listening to me? Listen carefully to what I say. You won’t be harmed if you do as we ask. Nod if you understand!”

The ANBU nodded again, faster now, afraid of another slap.

“Excellent, excellent!” Hidan beamed at Yahiko. “What a wonderful gift I’ve brought back, boss!”

“Do you know who we are?” Deidara stepped closer, raising an eyebrow as he leaned toward the girl.

The ANBU nodded again.

“Konan.” Itachi spoke for the first time since they’d returned to the hideout. It wasn’t a question, he was simply stating the woman’s name. 

The ANBU flinched at the name, and when her eyes met Itachi’s for a moment she immediately looked away. But she nodded.

“So far, so good,” Hidan said, patting the girl’s cheek. She showed no reaction, taking the skin contact the way she had taken everything so far.

“You poisoned her, didn’t you?” Someone asked. The ANBU nodded.

“Antidote?”

This time she didn’t nod. They waited, but the girl only dropped her gaze. Kisame lost patience and grabbed her hair, slamming her head down onto the floor. Once. Twice. Sakura tasted blood in her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for death again. 

“Enough.”

Kisame stared incredulously at Itachi. “I’ll do it,” Itachi said.

Kisame released the pink strand, stepped back, and gave Itachi room. He hoped the Uchiha wouldn’t spare the girl.

Sakura was terrified, she thought things couldn’t get worse.

“An antidote,” she whispered, very softly.

“Huh? What did you say?” Hidan leaned closer. “Now speak up, for the love of Jashin-sama! I told you you won't be harmed if you cooperate for fuck's sake!”

“Antidote, antidote!” the ANBU repeated desperately.

Itachi stepped back. He was bothered that precious minutes were slipping away from Konan’s life, but there was nothing to be done.

“I don’t have it with me,” the girl’s voice trembled, but she held on. “All my things were… but… but… I can, I promise I can...”

Sakura saw that her words didn’t help her situation. But she only hoped that at least they can understand what she meant to say. Whatever had happened to her in Orochimaru’s lair, she’d come out with nothing except the strange katana. When Hidan found her, everything else had been taken. 

“Can you make one?” Yahiko addressed the ANBU for the first time. The girl nodded quickly twice.

Kisame then grabbed her by the hair and hauled her up. “Then start!” But she couldn’t stand on her broken leg and the pain made her cry out hard and her knees gave up and collapsed to the floor again.

It was a pitiful sight. Kisame admitted even he felt a twinge of pity. He let go and shifted her more gently so she could sit propped against the wall.

“You can heal yourself.”

Sakura opened her mouth to speak but immediately closed it. Better not to provoke them, she feared saying the wrong thing.

Kisame sighed. “Talk.”

Sakura swallowed, forced her courage to make an appearance. Now they were watching expectantly. “I... Kabuto suppressed my chakra to keep me from escaping… he put something...” She slowly lifted her leg and pointed to the deep, ugly cut on her thigh.

The Akatsuki exchanged frowns. The mood turned sour. The ANBU seemed genuinely honest.

“I can’t show you… because… so…” The girl was clearly wracked with pain and shame. Her situation was already awful, now she had to beg mercy from Konoha’s greatest enemies. “If you give me… a kunai, I can cut it out…”

“Cut out what?”

“Listen, girl,” Hidan leaned in again. “Didn’t I tell you we won’t hurt you? Speak clearly! You won’t get a kunai!”

Sakura felt tears in her eyes. Itachi activated his sharingan, and his already grim expression darkened.

“She’s telling the truth.”

“What?”

“There is something in her leg,” the ANBU said.

“What the hell?"

“What?”

“It’s a... it's a seal, a chakra-blocking seal.” The ANBU sighed. “Kabuto cut into my thigh, put it in, then healed it a little bit.”

They looked at one another. What the hell. So Kabuto had decided this little Konoha ANBU was too dangerous and had to even block her chakra. Their faces showed a mixture of disgust and a grudging respect.

“So you’re saying you’d cut your leg open again to pull it out?” Kisame asked.

The girl nodded.

"Too bad. You're not getting a kunai."

“I’ll do it,” Deidara said suddenly. “Give me a kunai.”

Hidan tossed one from his belt, and Deidara knelt beside Sakura. He ignited his chakra, disinfected the wound, if this was to be done, it should be done carefully, he thought. “Cut deeper here, right? What does it look like?”

“L-like a piece of paper,” Sakura said, bracing for pain.

Deidara put his hand on her thigh, the torn fabric hanging uselessly, and began without ceremony. Sakura tightened every muscle, she managed only a small, stifled cry as Deidara sliced into the wound. The blonde’s face contorted as he plunged his hand into the cut and pulled out a thin, paper-like strip. Kisame snorted in disgust.

“I’ve always found Orochimaru’s lackey repulsive, but this…,” Kisame muttered, shaking his head.

The ANBU moaned when she was freed of it. Deidara frowned and dropped the bloody seal on the floor. It was vile. And just because of the deep-red blood dripping from it.

Sakura breathed like someone who’d sprinted, and something faintly appeared on her forehead: a purple rhombus.

“Thank you.” Deidara didn’t respond, he didn’t feel like he’d done anything that deserved thanks. Sakura clamped her hand over her thigh. “I need to stop the bleeding.”

He didn’t ask permission but waited for Hidan to nod, then a pale green light flared around his hands. Kisame placed his palm on her shoulder, lending some of his chakra. Sakura almost accepted it gratefully.

After a long silence, she added, “If… after... so, you can... you can put it back if you don’t trust me.”

At first Kisame didn’t understand. But Hidan frowned and Deidara inhaled sharply.

“We have our methods. This isn’t one,” Yahiko said simply, then burned the seal on the floor so only a small black spot remained.

Itachi watched the girl with his expressionless face. He recognized the sigil of the Fifth Hokage's forbidden technique on her forehead. Just who is she?

“Where is my brother?” he asked suddenly.

Sakura froze. What could have happened to him? He didn't betray her, he did not... She was certain. It had to have been him who got her out of the hideout. She couldn’t meet Itachi's eyes.

“I don’t know where he is. I don’t remember getting out of dungeon.” She did not add that Sasuke had almost certainly turned against his master.

Uchiha Sasuke can take care of himself, she had to believe it. It seemed Itachi wouldn't press further, but Sakura also knew that feigned indifference was only a mask as well. Her chest tightened.

Kisame scooped her up, this time not tossing her on his back like a sack of potatoes but handling her a little more gently, cradling her in his arms as he headed for Sasori’s old room.

“You’ll find everything you need here. If not, tell me.”

Sakura nodded. She truly did not want to be Konan’s murderer.

“We won’t hurt you. I mean it. Just heal Konan.”

–

Sasuke knew he was walking into a suicide mission when he left Sakura by the tree and turned to face the guards charging toward them. A part of him still hoped that if he had to die in that wretched place, it would at least be quick. Or maybe, if he was lucky, he could escape again after foolishly throwing himself back into the lion’s den, and take the girl as far away as possible.

But reality disappointed him. Weakened from his time in captivity and mental struggles, they exploited his exhaustion, wearing him down instead of finishing him off. Sasuke managed to hold the attackers back for a while, but soon collapsed to his knees. He’d lost his blades early in the fight and had been forced to rely on his bare hands, draining his strength even faster as Chidori consumed enormous chakra reserves. He figured the henchmen cared more about bringing him back alive as Orochimaru’s future host, which meant the rescued Konoha ANBU girl wasn’t their main concern.

The last thing he saw before his eyes shut was the bright, forceful waterfall, its roar echoing in his mind as he tried to carve the image deep into memory. He bit his lip when a boot slammed into his ribs, rolling onto his stomach as the scent of dirt and grass filled his lungs. Then the darkness swallowed him whole.

When he next awoke, he found himself in a cell much like before. Except this time heavy, cold chains hung him by the wrists from the low ceiling. His toes barely brushed the floor. His shoulders and neck throbbed with unbearable pain, though he had no idea how long he’d been suspended there. Since he’d blacked out. Since he’d left Sakura behind. The uncertainty, the hopelessness, the thought itself gnawed at his sanity.

But what truly broke him for a moment was the heavy bandage covering his eyes. The cloth was wrapped tightly around his head, pressed firmly over his closed eyelids, and he was certain Orochimaru had sealed it with a jutsu to block his Sharingan. To make sure he couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t escape, not even by accident. He had never felt this trapped.

He pulled, twisted, yanked at the chains, but all it did was send sharp pain lancing through his arms. He growled under his breath, until the door burst open. He froze, hearing soft, deliberate footsteps approach.

Orochimaru. It could only be him. Sasuke didn’t know how, but he felt it, just as he felt what was about to happen next.

“Sasuke-kun,” the serpent purred, voice dripping with honey. “Have we been misbehaving?”

Sasuke’s face didn’t move an inch. Orochimaru clicked his tongue and gestured for two guards to enter. The Uchiha remained silent, still as stone.

“You know how forgiving I’ve always been with you, Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru murmured, leaning close enough that Sasuke could feel his breath, fighting the urge to retch. “I don’t particularly care that you threw out that little pink rat, but defying me? Trying to kill my Kabuto? That, I cannot ignore.”

Sasuke almost snorted. So Kabuto wasn’t dead after all just close. A pity. But that was fine, he’d finish the job once he got out.

“Believe me, Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru sighed, feigning sorrow, “It pains me most of all to harm that beautiful porcelain skin of yours again.”

This time Sasuke actually did snort. The serpent ignored it, stepping back to make way for the guards. One moved behind him, the other tightened the chains further. Sasuke tensed every muscle in his body, knowing exactly what was coming.

Behind the blindfold, he clung to the memory of the white torrent of the waterfall, the soft, home-like scent of grass. He let himself drown in to it when the whip touched his back.

Then again.
And again.
And again.

–

For days, Naruto had wanted nothing more than to finally sleep in his own bed again. Sure, the sheets were probably long overdue for a change, but who cared? What mattered more than anything was to make sure Sakura was safe. Preferably within five meters of him, if possible.

If he was being honest, he wanted Sasuke within that same five meters too, but that thought had been a dangerous one for years now.

He walked most of the way holding Hinata’s hand, Kurama’s uneasy growl echoing in the back of his mind. The fox wasn’t warning him about another fight between him and Sasuke. No, this was something worse. Something darker.

Kurama wasn’t all-knowing, but he’d often been right before. Lately, Naruto couldn’t even sleep properly, whenever he closed his eyes, instead of dreams the fox was there waiting for him in the dark.

Shikamaru’s low voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “We’re here.”

It really seemed like they’d made it in barely one and a half day. Shikamaru steadied himself on the branch of a pine and waved the others closer. The team landed beside him, one by one. Naruto hesitated—unusual for him—staring ahead with something like fear. Not fear of the fight waiting for them in Orochimaru’s den, but of what they might find there. Kurama’s warning hadn’t been about danger, he remembered. It had been about something worse.

He took a deep breath and climbed up beside Neji. From their cover in the trees, they looked down at the fortress carved into the sandstone cliff. A bleak sight. Ino muttered that it was more of a hole than a hideout.

Several entrances were visible, each guarded, each leading into the blackness that disappeared beneath the rock. Naruto noticed a waterfall not far from the western gate. Strange, he thought, no way that was natural.

And yet… Something about it was peaceful. A little piece of calm and quiet at the edge of the desert, like a doorway to another world. A world you could escape into, away from all this.

He wondered, just for a second, if Sasuke had ever stood there too, looking at that same waterfall. The thought hurt. He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time for that. They had to get Sakura out, immediately. Every minute, every second counted.

Naruto looked at his friends. His teammates, his childhood anchors, the foundation of his life. Without the four of them, he’d be nothing. But they were still missing the fifth: because without Sakura, it was hard to find meaning in anything.
He’d already lost Sasuke. Let him go, failed to bring him back. For Sakura, he’d fight twice as hard.

Shikamaru studied the lengthening shadows of the pines as they stretched across the dunes, swallowing the sand like the teeth of some giant beast.

Without a word, Neji nodded. Naruto was grateful that he would lead them inside. One by one, they dropped silently from the trees and moved toward the entrances. They split up as usual: Ino and Shikamaru headed east, Naruto and Hinata west, and Neji took the central gate.

Neji and Sakura had always fought best together as their chakra control made them an unstoppable pair. Now, without her, his strikes were more mechanical, less fluid, but just as precise. In the blink of an eye, he disabled the guards before they even realized something had moved in the treeline. For a moment, he considered sparing them, but he concluded that would be risky. He exhaled and with a single motion stopped both their hearts.

Ino stood boldly before her targets, blue eyes flashing. They reached for their blades, but Shikamaru’s shadow already speared them through. Ino swept their legs out, and one well-aimed shuriken painted a crimson necklace across their throats.

Naruto, less of a team player, was paired with Hinata for that very reason, she didn’t mind working quietly behind the scenes. He charged one of Orochimaru’s guards with a battle cry, but the man dodged with surprising agility – only to slam straight into Hinata’s outstretched hand. A single precise strike stopped his chakra flow, and he collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

Hinata wasn’t cruel, but Orochimaru’s followers were only getting what they deserved.

Naruto grinned and created a dozen shadow clones that flooded the clearing. The second guard slashed through clone after clone, popping them one by one. Until Naruto, weaving through the chaos, passed a glowing Rasengan from clone to clone like a blazing ball of lightning. As the guard focused on the decoys, the real Naruto came from behind, catching the finished orb and driving him into the rock wall.

The explosion cracked the sandstone, shaking the ground beneath them. Ino rolled her eyes. “Of course Naruto couldn’t do this quietly.”

The team exchanged quick, satisfied looks. So far, everything had gone according to plan. They’d found the hideout, neutralized the outer guards to make sure no one would be sneaking up on them. Two steps remained: find Sakura and get out alive. The first part, all things considered, might be the easy one.

The hard part?
Getting out alive.

The explosion tore Sasuke out of his endless fever dream. The same nightmare he occasionally surfaced from, only to curse himself for still being conscious enough to feel the pain.

He’d always endured pain well. Humiliation and punishment, though, yes, those were harder. The hallucinations didn’t help either. Even with his eyes wrapped in layers of thick bandages, his mind still saw things he didn’t want to see. Memories, not monsters. Which somehow made it all worse.

He had no idea how long it had been since he’d left Sakura lying in the grass by the waterfall. The whip beat the sense of time out of him. He had no idea how many days the whip had carved his back open, only to leave raw flesh and bone-deep gashes. The agony was endless, the closest thing to Tsukuyomi he could imagine. Yet no matter how close he came to begging for it to stop, Sasuke Uchiha did not break.
Perhaps because he knew only one person had ever broken him, long ago, when he was still a child. Only one person had that kind of power over him.
And that person was his brother.

Because who else would Uchiha Sasuke ever beg to if not Uchiha Itachi?
Who else could truly see him fall apart?
Somewhere between the blows, the fever, and the delusions, he found himself repeating his brother’s name like a prayer. Not as if Itachi, Nii-san could save him, but as a person on the brink of insanity clinging to the only thing he could still believe to be real. 

That he had survived Orochimaru’s torture at all, he owed to arrogance, and Sasuke was proud of that. He would escape. He would find Sakura. Not because he cared much about her at this point, but because he had taken responsibility for her once and he needed to make sure she had survived.

After that, he would find Itachi.

Yes, he thought. I’ll find my brother... And for the first time in his life, the sentence didn’t end with and kill him.

“Sasuke…!?”

Naruto, Hinata, Neji, Ino, and Shikamaru would have done anything to find Sakura in the underground maze and bring her back to the light, preferably without shedding more blood than necessary.

That plan fell apart the moment they broke open yet another stone cell door and instead of bones and rot, found a chained boy with black hair, blood pooling beneath his feet. His eyes were covered, his face ghost-pale, and yet, somehow, still wore its signature arrogance.

Sasuke could have sworn he heard the exact moment Naruto’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe because his own did too.

“What the...?”

“No way.”

Sasuke groaned. This couldn’t be real.

“What is this, a class reunion?” came a mocking voice, half-familiar, half-forgotten, and every head snapped toward the sound.

Sasuke groaned again, not from pain but from sheer exhaustion at the absurdity. Of course. Of course this rat had to show up.

“You did this to him?” Naruto’s voice was low, dangerous, as he stepped protectively in front of Sasuke.

Ino was the first to move. Without hesitation, she began healing Sasuke’s back. She wasn’t gentle, her chakra burned into the torn flesh, cleansing the wounds that reached down to the bone. She’d treated war victims before, but this made her stomach churn. Sasuke’s body kept trembling, but he never spoke, never resisted, only endured.

Then she noticed something strange: half her healing chakra was dissipating into the air. She frowned. The walls were covered in sealing marks, symbols she didn’t recognize. 

Neji and Shikamaru snapped out of their shock, lifting Sasuke by the legs to ease the strain on his back.

“Hold him there. Yes. Like that.”

Sasuke gasped, relief flooding his battered body as the pressure eased. The cuffs had chewed his wrists raw, but the support of strong hands behind his knees dulled the worst of the agony. He could feel someone’s chakra working carefully across his back.

Sakura...?

No. It couldn’t be. Sakura would have been more precise, more careful. She always had better chakra control than he did.

“I’ll kill you,” came Naruto’s voice again, raw, shaking with rage.

“I’ve been hearing that for years from Sasuke-kun,” Kabuto sighed theatrically. “And yet, here we—”

He didn’t finish. Hinata moved faster than any of them saw, her hand striking the base of his throat. Kabuto staggered, clutching at his neck, unable to breathe.

“He’ll be unconscious in a few seconds,” Neji said proudly, glancing at her. Indeed, Kabuto collapsed, gasping silently as he tried and failed to undo the jutsu.

“It’s not enough! It’s not enough!” Naruto shouted. His whole body trembled with fury, facing away from Sasuke. It was unbearable to look at him. Kurama’s chakra glowed around his fingers, flickering red and dangerous. Hinata held onto his hand, ignoring the heat radiating from his skin, but it wasn’t enough.

He tore free from her grasp and lunged. With a roar, he drove his fist straight through Kabuto’s chest. No one stopped him. Not one of them blamed him. They’d all had enough of that rat's games over the years.

Shikamaru frowned, scanning the room. Something was wrong. Kurama’s chakra wasn’t forming its usual cloak. He caught Neji’s eye, the Hyuuga was already looking at the same thing which Ino had noticed before. There was something strange with the seals on the wall.

Sasuke could still feel the demon fox's chakra thickening in the air, suffocating and hot.

“N-Naruto…” he croaked. His lips were dry, cracked.

Naruto froze, inhaling sharply at the sound of his name. He closed his eyes, struggling to control himself for once.

“What happened?” Shikamaru asked, his voice steady now that Sasuke was at least conscious.

“Where’s Sakura?” came a softer voice from behind. Sasuke realized a kunoichi was healing his wounds, Ino, he guessed.

“Tell us where she is,” said another voice, firmer, colder this time, closer. “Or we’ll let you down.”

Sasuke didn’t answer. The next moment, the chains jerked violently, pulling his arms taut. Pain ripped through his shoulder as his body dropped, and he bit down hard to stifle the scream. He tasted blood. 

“Neji!”

“What are you doing?!”

“Where. Is. Sakura?” hissed the voice in his ear.

“Damn it, Neji!”

“At least let me finish healing him!”

“Shouldn't we free him?”

“Too risky.”

“Ino, save your chakra!”

“Use mine,” Naruto rasped, voice rough and breaking.

Sasuke struggled to breathe. “Sakura…” Every word hurt. His memories came in fragments: screams, darkness, Itachi's empty eyes crying red tears, Sakura's limp body in his arms, the taste of blood. He wasn’t sure what was real anymore. Only the pain. Even now, even as Uchiha Sasuke, even after all the vengeance and ice he’d wrapped himself in... it was all pain.

His breathing became faster. “Naruto… Naruto…” he rasped, almost desperately. 

“I’m here,” Naruto said, finally turning toward him. He cupped Sasuke’s face between both hands. It wasn't a gently touch, it was a deliberate touch. Close. Sasuke flinched, but Naruto didn’t let go. “It’s me. Tell me. I'm here. Where’s Sakura?”

Sasuke couldn’t speak. Kurama’s chakra burned the air, thick with mistrust, fear, and desperation. He couldn’t blame them for keeping him bound, for not daring to free his Sharingans.

“I’ll help you find her,” he managed. “Untie me… I’ll come with you…”

“Only place you’re coming with us is Konoha,” Shikamaru said flatly. His voice carried the reluctant authority of someone who had already made a hard choice. “You’ll be tried for treason.”