Chapter Text
"Uchiha! So kind of you to join us!"
Anko's sardonic comment reaches me long before I enter the training ground. She must have super sight or something, or else she's been yelling that every fifteen minutes in the hopes that one of those times it would be true. I wouldn't put it past her.
It's only a moment after I appear that Ouka races to me. She halts suddenly, almost topples over, looks up, and grins. Kohana trots leisurely to my side and rubs her little puppy head against my leg. The little girl looks like she's hankering to follow suit, but thankfully for everyone involved, she refrains.
"Well, I guess we can get down to real work now," Anko observes dryly as she struts up to us. I look to her, and in the background far past her shoulder, Tetsuo stands and does nothing. Mitarashi grins wickedly. "All right guys; let's get cracking. We're way behind!"
I take a step forward, but Ouka swiftly bars my way, still gazing stupidly at me. Her mouth splits wide into a cheeky grin.
"Wait 'til I show you what I can do!" She proclaims. But then her face drops a little as she adds, "I thought maybe we wouldn't see you again. And then what would we do? Only me and Kohana and stupid Tetsuo!"
"Don't say that," I admonish her automatically. It's like a switch gets flipped whenever she’s around.
"Well, it's true," the little girl pouts. "He never wants to do anything." She looks back over her shoulder at the boy. "I think he was hoping you wouldn't come back so he wouldn't have to do anything." Her eyes return to me. "But Mitarashi-sensei said we'd wait a few more days, and if you didn't show up after that, we'd just have to recruit someone else."
I am a thing so easily replaced, in every venue of my life.
And yet . . . I wasn't. They were still here, waiting for me. And Anko greeted me like normal, offering neither rebuke nor condolence as if this is any other day.
Then Ouka flushes pink, looks at her feet, and kicks the dirt with the toe of her sandal. Kohana whines deep in her throat and rubs her head along my calf.
"It wouldn't have been the same," she complains.
"Hey, you two! We've lost almost a week already!" Anko shouts irascibly to us, her hands firmly on her hips. "Get over here!"
Ouka looks up at me demurely from under her lashes, apparently oblivious to our team leader's impatience. A tiny hand grabs the edge of my wrist and tugs it like a bell pull. After I don’t answer the summons, she commands, "Come here," and yanks exceptionally hard. "I got something to tell you," she says overloud.
"Now!" Anko shouts and I can feel her irritation all the way on the other side of the field.
Ouka jerks on my arm again, so I bend down to her short level. She gives me a serious look before leaning in close and, cupping her hand over her mouth, whispers into my ear, "I missed you."
She straightens up not much taller than before, gives me that same serious expression and nods her head decisively, her face pink with innocence. Kohana barks loud and sudden, but no one seems surprised.
"If you don't get over here right now, I’ll make sure that you regret it." Anko warns us menacingly, but none of us take her threats too seriously.
Ouka turns and heads in that direction without letting go of my hand. I wrestle free and she doesn’t complain. I watch Kohana's little tail wag happily as she bounds past the girl to join her, the boy, and the crazy woman.
What a lot of nonsense this is.
But it is my team.
Mine.
I find myself trying more earnestly to better match abilities to my teammates'.
I do this not for myself; I have no hopes to be anything but what I am. And in service to Konoha, I’m not sure I’d want anything else.
Ouka is so pleased it nearly makes me sick. In fact, in the five days of my absence she has improved a great deal, not the least of which is in confidence. Even lazybones has improved, though he seems no more excited about the prospect of chuunin exams and ninjahood than he ever did. As the day proceeds, I discover that if I don’t think too much and simply let our movements flow together, we’re not a bad team. Of course, it’s just a genin one, so that’s not saying much.
But in a strange way, I want them to succeed. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say I think they should succeed and I won't allow them to fail because of me. I'm not a failure nor will I will be anyone's burden to bear.
Our daily training comes to a conclusion and, right on schedule, little Ouka waltzes up to me and waits. I don't know why she waits or what she's waiting for, but she has always done this and after five days nothing has changed.
The girl stands patiently, staring at me as I collect the last of the weapons – some are mine and others belong to the other, reckless members of the team. I really ought to have a discussion with them about this sort of inappropriate ninja behavior.
Kohana, far too excited as usual, - I'm beginning to wonder if someone has been sneaking loads of caffeine into her food - races around us, yipping and working off the hyperactivity that accompanies a day of training.
Ouka watches intently as I stow the last of the kunai with a click and stand up straight. I hand a set of throwing stars –hers – back to the child and without a hint of embarrassment, she packs them away.
I look at her for only an instant, then head in the direction of the apartment. Immediately, dog and child flank me and that well-known, oddly soft little hand laces into mine. This time I don't try to pull away.
"Let's get ice cream!"
The joyful shout comes from absolutely nowhere. I risk a sidelong glance in her direction and Ouka beams at me as if she has just won the lottery.
"I don't like ice cream," I state, looking back over the street.
The tiny hand squeezes mine. "But I do."
I pause momentarily in my progress.
That is a thought.
She does.
I do not, but she does.
I resume walking. After a couple seconds I ask, "Where is it?"
Her hand squeezes so tight that I scowl at her, but she, undeterred, shines at me nearly as bright as the sun. Kohana barks and yips and wags her tail and runs around in a circle like a puppy on speed.
Well, she can act as happy as she likes. She's not getting any.
Ouka yanks hard on my arm and I allow her to drag me to this ice cream place.
Once we are there I am summarily corrected and informed that it is in fact called an "ice cream parlor".
Whatever.
Ouka orders a banana split, easily the most expensive item on the menu short of gallon containers. It essentially empties out my wallet.
I order one scoop of green tea. It is subtle, just a hint of flavor and a touch of sweetness. If I am forced to eat ice cream, that sticky, creamy, overly sweet confection, this is really my only option. Still, one scoop is more than enough.
The little girl sits contentedly across from me in an elaborately cutesy chair, swings her legs, and grins at me with an ice cream smeared smile. There is an awful lot of the sweet in the bowl for one small person. But then again, she is already halfway through and showing no signs of stopping.
She breaks off a piece of banana and hands it down to Kohana.
Stupid dog. I thought I said I wasn't going to get anything for her.
Ouka smiles chocolatey up at me as I finish the last of my green tea ice cream.
"You look happier," she says. Her face is still covered in sweet stickiness. What a mess. Just like . . .
The nothingness in my chest reasserts itself, expands and punches outward. For a second there, I almost forgot about it.
I take Ouka's chin in my hand and gently wipe away the melted cream with my napkin.
Happier? "No." Not happier.
Ouka tries to say something that comes out a mumbled mess since she can't quite speak clearly while I clean her face.
The emptiness within me pulls in, presses out, beating like a heart and yet nothing like one, serving no purpose but to be painful and remind me of what I have lost.
Definitely not happier.
Ouka protests grumblingly and puts her sticky ice cream hands on my wrists. I leave her cheeks and go to work cleaning her hands instead. The girl releases a relieved sigh, but otherwise says nothing.
I pull the napkin over one short, plump finger.
Not happier, but resolved maybe?
Naruto may be done with me, but that doesn’t mean I have to be done with him.
Finally finished, I let Ouka go and lean back in my chair.
The penetrating pain is there even now, though somehow not as bad as it has been.
I still cannot breathe.
Ouka looks at me, opens her mouth, but then closes it in an uncharacteristic display of self-control. Instead, she smiles meekly and goes back to her half finished dessert.
The next moment, I groan with deep disgust.
In one fell swoop all of my hard work is undone with an overflowing spoon of melting ice cream.
-----
These days I sleep more than I used to, and while they are no less troubled than they were before, they are of a different color.
I dream of Naruto often. I remember all the things unique to him and the solace of his presence better than any drug. I dream of undefined days and the hazy ordinariness of everyday life.
It sounds odd, but there is something deliciously painful about such dreams.
We cannot remain apart forever. We are two halves of the same coin, Naruto and I, incomplete without the other. I think he knows it too.
Sometimes, I dream of Itachi. I recall the times long ago when he was simply my brother, perfect in my inexperienced child's eyes and incapable of flaw. I dream of the kind Itachi who found compassion for me when he had little to offer and of the Itachi who defended me when no one else cared.
And then I dream of the Itachi at the end, the full circle Itachi who was my brother again.
But he is still a mystery to me and when I wake, I recall that it’s my fault.
And then there are the dreams of my mother, fleeting like a dream within another. She is but a ghost who lingers in my mind with so much to say that cannot be spoken. She floats and sways and disappears and appears and when I awake I know that she somehow lingers still.
Even in my waking hours I can see her eyes filled with sympathy, the kind only a mother can offer and the kind that can only be accepted from a mother, trailing my steps like shadows.
She is still waiting, I think, for me to be her child.
-----
"That went . . . well," Yamanaka says with a bit too much surprise in her voice.
I look blankly away and say nothing. Two "sections" of memorization are complete and we are well into the third. I don’t want to waste time worrying over this. It’s all a matter of will, control, and concentration. I am Uchiha Sasuke. I can do this.
And I will.
Although I have felt distinctly out of sorts since Naruto . . .
Enough.
I cannot think of him or else that pain returns with insistence, demanding attention that I don't have to spare. I close my eyes, inhale deeply, and concentrate only on what I must do.
"So," Ino says oblivious, or more than likely uncaring, of my inner struggle, "If we keep on this pace, it won't take long until we’re finished." I hear her tap her fingers on the hollow wood of the table. "You've improved." She states this rather grudgingly, stands, turns halfway, and heads to the door.
I mumble a nearly inaudible, "Yamanaka."
She stops in her tracks almost instantly. Then slowly, as a toy winding down, she turns. I wait for a moment, weighing my decision, and then I nod. It's barely perceptible, but I know she's seen and understood. Her gaze goes a little wide, mistrustful, but I glimpse it only from the corner of my eyes. It’s an acknowledgement for her sacrifice, not a thanks for her compliment. I’m sure she knows that.
The blonde girl crosses her arms defensively. "I'm not doing this for you," she reminds me flatly.
"I know." It's a phrase more astringent on my tongue than I expected.
She pauses a moment then nods warily, droops her eyes, and leaves.
But in a way, I'm doing this for her.
It's not for me.
Because I hate Konoha.
-----
I think that I am at best one third of the way through my trial. The spots speckling the inside of my mind remain daunting and continue to wink at me maliciously like the evil leeches they are. It's exhausting work and when I reenter the real world, I collapse heavily onto my heels.
"Sasuke, look at me."
I’m not up for an argument, so I comply.
He tapers his one eye at me as his mask crinkles in what I'm guessing is disapproval.
"Has anyone said anything to you about your appearance?"
I regard him with distinct annoyance. "My appearance"? Most people don't even look me in the eye, let alone talk to me. "No."
He hums thoughtfully and drops to a crouch. His hands reach to my face but I bat him away angrily. He doesn't need to be that close and certainly doesn't need to touch me to see me. With a deep frown that creases his mask distinctively, he drops his forearm to his bent knee and stares. "Not even Naruto?" He ventures.
Naruto hasn’t spoken to me since that day. I heave an exhausted, disgruntled sigh. "No."
Old One-Eye hums again and taps his finger against his leg, keeping time to music only he can hear. The one eye shifts away for a moment as he mumbles to himself. Then, almost instantaneously, his attention is back on me and he says, "We're done for today. I want you to go home and get some rest." And in a swirl of leaves and dust he is gone.
I fall back on my hands and crane my head to the deep blue sky and feel that sharp emptiness again. I’m used to it. I let my arms bend beneath me and drop my body to the ground.
Rest sounds nice. Darkness and unconsciousness are appealing to me right now.
I close my eyes and the blue vanishes.
And once again, I sleep, but this time I do not dream.
-----
This is a new and unexciting experience. I've never been to this section of town before and I'm as foreign to it as it is to me.
No one here seems to know about me or what I've done, or at the least they seem not to care. It makes for a somewhat refreshing change, which says a lot for the banality of my life.
//Indeed.//
Except I need a little advice and there’s no one I can ask. I don’t exactly fit in. Everything here is fancy. Frilly. Girly.
It seems that way anyway.
I need a list. I should get something appropriate for bride and groom, but I don’t know either very well.
I guess I don’t really care.
//As you should not.//
I replace the delicate fluted glass to the shelf and move on.
I don't like having to resort to a gift. I ought to be giving them the customary cash, as is right and proper, but I don't have access to even the minimal 3,000 yen. As little money as I can spare would look better as a gift, assuming that I can find the right one. It’s more than they have a right to expect after making my attendance mandatory.
//Why should it matter to you either way?//
I'm half dreading this stupid wedding. I'd be all dreading it except that Naruto will be there. Angry with me or not, he's not the sort to let such things get in the way; he will put his friends and promises first.
//What useless notions.//
I haven't seen him in such a long time. And I need to.
I really need to.
I inhale, but no oxygen reaches my lungs. The empty ache has twisted to form a solid wall that blocks my airways.
I pick up a porcelain vase, simply decorated and about three times what I can reasonably afford. I carefully set it down again and continue forward. I have no clue what to get for that strange girl.
And she is a strange girl. She's given me this. A day free of recrimination. A day doing something I don't want to do, but the freedom with which to do it.
//Such a disappointment.//
She's given me the opportunity to be anonymous in a town that has long adored and deplored the Uchiha name and me along with it.
She is a strange girl indeed.
At times it seems like only minutes have passed, at others it feels like years and that I must be an old man patiently waiting for the end of his days with no one waiting for him on the other side.
Yet I doubt it's been a month.
Hinata's wedding was scheduled only two months after she gave me the invitation and it wasn't long after that that Naruto . . .
//That is quite enough.//
So it has not been very long.
It has been a lifetime.
And it's an odd sort of life, full of things I don’t want to do but allow.
It’s no more than a pit stop to my true destination.
-----
I dangle my toes toward the still surface of the lake and with a little more effort I could probably touch it. I can remember sitting on this pier before, though back then my feet barely reflected in the water let alone have been able to reach the water. The pain was there then too, but different, sort of dulled whereas this is piercing.
//Oh, this is productive.//
I close my eyes as it passes.
This is the one place where I feel I can rest, even if it brings no peace. I can see no better, nor hear, nor feel.
And I still cannot breath.
//What useless drivel.//
The pain here is lessened, as the ache rises to surround rather than consume me.
It's manageable.
I gaze out over the empty water. The gentle lapping against the wooden supports is there but muffled. It is a rhythmic and easy cadence, soothing like a lullaby and I listen as if my ears work properly. I stay in this quiet place a long time, son long that I forget myself. It takes another’s voice to rouse me.
"So I got the green light."
//How utterly perfect.//
"'Green light', what the heck's that supposed to mean?"
I open my eyes and force my ears to work, to absorb sound, to make my muddy brain understand.
"You know, no more restriction type stuff," Naruto explains.
Kiba snorts skeptically, as I would have.
Naruto is here.
He is here.
//No reason to get so excited.//
"Well, for the fox anyway," Naruto grumbles in that way of his. "He's all touchy and irritable, but I'm in charge now. I just gave him a good kicking and now he sits back while I keep control."
The edge of my mouth turns up.
"Oh?" There's a pause. "Oh! Well hey. That means you're gonna go on some missions now?"
"Uh," Naruto hedges guiltily. "Not yet. But soon. They still don't trust me after last time, but I'm good to go, I swear! It's only a matter of . . ."
He stops abruptly.
"Huh? Wha? Whaissit?"
There is another pause, broken at last by Kiba's revelatory "Oh." This is immediately followed by an extended conversation made in such hushed chattering that I can't decipher it. It doesn’t matter much, just so long as I can listen to the welcome sound of his voice.
//Ugh. Pa-the-tic.//
But then Naruto whispers something sharp and final. Kiba groans irritably and the voices move farther off. There is a quiet shuffle, padding, and I know they're leaving.
//Finally. That is more than enough of that.//
But this is the first time I have heard his voice in more than a week and I cannot allow him to go.
"Naruto!"
Everything freezes.
I hadn't meant to say anything, didn't realize I had until I play the voice back in my head and recognize it as my own.
We all pause, the tension strung tautly between us through the heated air. They're waiting, I realize, for me. I'm supposed to do something now. I had no plan when I called his name; I just wanted him not to leave.
I just didn’t want him to leave. Pathetic, yes. But no one other than me actually needs to know that. My exterior, as ever, remains composed.
I rest my hand flat to the deck. "Sit with me?"
There is a brief silence and then shuffling again.
He's leaving.
He's still trying to hold steadfastly to his stupid decision. And there’s little I can do about it when he’s like this. That’s all right. For now.
I choke a little as my lungs seize up. Still no breath, still no air.
"Hey, c'mon." It's Kiba this time, that best friend of his, whiny and annoyed. "You're no fun anymore."
"No fun?" Naruto snaps.
I sharpen my hearing as best I can because isn't this interesting?
"Yeah, you've . . ." But then Kiba's speech lowers and I don't know what he's saying. All I can hear are the tones like music, low and rumbling with the roll of timpani and the mellow crescendo of horns.
Then there is quiet. It doesn't last for long, yet it's heavy, a lead weight slowly being lowered centimeter by centimeter onto an already tense situation.
I remain still as a statue. I won't repeat my request; I won't beg or plead or turn my head. I have my pride still. Yes, I do: I am still Sasuke. Yet every nerve in my body is thrumming, awaiting his answer.
It seems like forever.
And it seems like an illusion when the subtle vibrations reach me from down along the planks of wood. When he is close enough, I look at Naruto's feet. I don’t look at his face because any little thing might make him change his mind. Instead, I look out over the water as he quietly sits down beside me. He says nothing, so I do the same.
But gradually, yet somehow instantly, I feel lighter but grounded. My body is no longer simply a carcass to house my self, but me altogether. The lapping of the water intensifies, and is joined by the normal sounds of summer; the whine of cicadas and the distant whistle of birds. The image before me clarifies and I see the individual leaves on the trees and each undulating ripple of water. I sit straighter and fill my lungs with the sweet stale air, letting it back out reluctantly. I can breathe again.
I can breathe.
I glance sideways to Naruto. He sits stiff and stern, his lips pulled into a thin white line as he stares at the line of trees on the far end of the lake. His hand is near mine, close enough to touch though I don't. I can already feel his presence. His scent and warmth and breath are in the air all around me, enveloping my every sense.
And I feel better.
I can breathe.
But it's not enough, not nearly enough. For now, just that he is here at the same time as me will do. I know he'll allow no more than that. He’s stubborn. But so am I, probably more than him. So I'll play this stupid waiting game, because I have my pride and my sense of self and I will succeed in the end.
And he is sitting here with me, even if begrudgingly. He hasn't looked at me or acknowledged my presence in any way.
But he is here.
Boldly, I turn to look at him directly and reintroduce myself to the contours of his face; I haven't seen him so closely in quite some time. So I look at him, stare at him, study him, and realize that the image in my head didn’t do him justice.
I can see him grow edgy as one does when they sense someone's eyes on them. Finally, he turns to me with his mouth half open, ready to spew some sarcastic remark, no doubt. But when he sees me he stops. His eyes go large and his mouth gapes foolishly.
I allow my lips to form the gentle curve to a smile. It's barely a smile because I don't recall how to do it, but it's close enough for him to understand. I wait a moment more, peering at his stunned expression with satisfaction then gracefully get to my feet. His head tilts clumsily back to follow my movement and I keep my eyes locked onto his. Just a moment more, just a moment, and then I will leave him alone. For today.
I blink slowly and pull my lips a hair further. It's very quiet, with only the soft lapping of water and the song of insects, but I have no need to fill the silence. I simply look at Naruto and he should know.
Confusion almost instantly takes over his face followed by something that looks like fear, but since there's no reason for it, I'm sure I'm mistaken.
I turn my smile into a smirk and hum once in amusement. All this will change someday.
It has to.
Two halves cannot be divided forever.
Then I turn and head down the wooden walkway back to the life that has been given to me.
I haven't given up on him. And I don’t, won’t, believe he’s truly given up on me regardless what he says. He’s trying too hard. But all that really matters right now, at this moment, is that he is here.
In this stupid village I despise.
And so are Sakura and Kakashi and Iruka and weird Hinata, mysterious Kuma, and silly little Ouka with her dog. Even crazy Anko and lazy Tetsuo and manipulative Tsunade are here. They are all, in their way, mine. And I protect what is mine, regardless the cost. Even if it means protecting what I hate.
And so this is Konohagakure.
This is my life, my future, and my reality.
I am ready.
END