Chapter 44
A New Dawn
For
your precious sake,
Once my eager life itself
Was not dear to me.
But now it is my heart's desire
It may long, long years endure.
-
Fujiwara no Yoshitaka
Byaku-Shinkyou
Hokkaido
Prefecture
Two
months earlier:
Itachi:
He
is far from perfect; even he would tell you that if queried. There are days
when he wishes he had a manual specifically catered for ‘older brothers’, but
Life had deemed it fit not to produce such essential literature so far. Life
had determined that he’d have to learn that role the hard way, and though it
had seemed easy during those early years of innocence, Life had been cruel to
him for fourteen long years afterwards. During that time, he played the role of
pseudo-big brother to so many others never knowing the fate of the one closest
to his heart. It was a role he would loathe to admit he had performed as if
walking through a room drenched in darkness. On the outside, he was ‘perfect’
to admirers. On the inside, however, Life’s cruelty continued to take its emotional
and mental toll. Only Shisui would ever really know how truly miserable he had
been and it was a secret he vowed to carry with him to his grave; should that
time come any time soon.
Fortunately,
Life (and Fate) had finally decided to give him a break. Ah, yes. They had
considered his years of mourning and misery enough penance to finally reunite long
lost brothers. It could have been a reunion worthy of fairytales and fantasy
novels, but Life (and Fate) – like vengeful lovers not content to simply watch
the fruits of their revenge – had none too soon thrust this ‘war’ upon them.
(how unfair)
It
was yet another obstacle that could prove to be the final blow struck to a life
lived on a wire, where every trembling step he took could be the difference
between survival and the afterlife. Sending Sasuke to Byaku-Shinkyou alone was
a decision that had kept him up that night; despite his brotherly pep-talk.
Every fiber of his being had sent warning signals; screaming that Orochimaru
(and his army) would not be so kind and welcoming to Sasuke as he might have
tried to reassure them. However, he knew he really had no say in the matter.
Sasuke had lived with that man for so long, surely his judgment of Orochimaru’s
character would be much better than his?
(trust
him…trust that everything will be just fine)
And
yet mere hours after watching his brother and his trusted manservant disappear
down the snowcapped trail, he had grit his teeth and made the decision to
follow Neji and the others. He would gladly suffer Sasuke’s wrath when the time
came, but he knew – without a doubt – that he could never live with himself if
he simply chose to ‘wait’ it out despite the many others that needed him at the
base.
“I’ll
stay,” were Shisui’s words of encouragement as he noticed the determined yet
torn expression on his partner’s visage. “Go to him. We…I’ll be here when you
return.”
(thank you, my
beloved)
With
that final blessing, he led the young men – who didn’t seem too shocked to see
him make an appearance – down toward his childhood home for a final
confrontation that he hoped would at least give him the opportunity to set
things right. Unlike the past, he was no longer that frightened ten-year-old
unsure of himself. He would go head-first into battle if need be and protect
the last remaining link to a family unfairly taken away from them. Sasuke, at
least, deserved that much.
However,
with his mind so full of potential plans for attack and what could lie ahead,
nothing could prepare him – and the others – for what reality presented. From
the deafening explosions to black mushrooms of smoke billowing into the night
sky, they could only watch in horror as the large gates leading into the
grounds seemed to become the entrance to Hades itself. Bodies tumbled out as if
desperate to escape the madness within, and while a lucky few were able to make
their escape into the snow-coated landscape, others weren’t so lucky. The thick
metallic stench of blood and burning flesh filled his nostrils as gunshots rang
out to join the cacophony of tortured screams and cries for help. Between
rebelling prisoners and loyalist officers to Orochimaru, it was incredibly
difficult to make out who was on whose side, but with sharp instructions to his
young team to stay on guard, Itachi led them into mayhem with a prayer on his
lips.
(Sasuke…please
be all right…please…)
“Sasori!”
he yelled out as he swung at an incoming officer with his katana. “Set off the warning flair! We need more back up NOW!”
Sasori
nodded curtly and dashed off; his lithe frame almost blending in with the chaos
and garnering no extra attention from the fighting taking place. Besides, if
anyone dared attack, his super-quick reflexes (only rivaled by Haku he had come
to discover) could take them out with prepared poison-tipped needles.
“Lee,
Neji and Tenten, you remember the directions on the map leading to Orochimaru’s
quarters?”
“Yes!”
Tenten replied as she sliced off the arm of a prisoner who had lunged for her.
“What are you orders, Itachi-sama?”
“Head
over there now,” Itachi commanded. “Shino, Deidara and I will try to hold them
back as much as we can and we’ll join you in a bit. Also look for Kiba and the
others!”
“Roger!”
Lee saluted as he and his companions vaulted over piling dead bodies to dash in
the direction assigned to them.
“Deidara!
Shino!”
“Yes,
sir!” The two men replied, already more than aware of what they had to do. They
were vastly outnumbered, but it appeared as if the crowd was beginning to
thin…at least those seeking to escape. Now the trio found themselves dealing
with Orochimaru loyalists not ready to give up their positions just yet. Behind
them the fires raged on; the thick smell of smoke and gasoline polluting the
air and making it a little difficult to breathe.
Itachi
shrugged off the now bloodied robe he had been wearing to brace himself for the
fight ahead. He could vaguely recognize the face of the leader of the band of
loyalists, but besides that, the others were new to him. These were all men
from different walks of life, who had come here with one goal in mind; to
protect and serve…allegedly.
(now it’s more
like to purify the earth from sinners, eh?)
Itachi
smirked coldly and lifted his katana as the officers began to dash forward to attack.
(I’ll see you
all in Hell)
__
It
would take him nearly half-an-hour to finally make it toward the much quieter
section of the grounds – Orochimaru’s quarters to be exact – but by this time,
the earlier snow flurries had now become a steady sheet of snow that was
beginning to make visibility poor. Sasori, Deidara and Shino – along with rebel
officers led by someone named Fuu – were finishing up the last of the
loyalists. Several had given up and volunteered to be captured, but Itachi knew
that this was only the tip of the iceberg. Who knew what else was happening
deeper within the grounds?
(all the dead
bodies to clear away…goddamnit! What a mess!)
However,
his top priority was finding out if Sasuke was all right…
(still alive)
…but
his running/stumbling steps slowed when he noticed the small group huddled at
the bottom of the steps. He felt his adrenaline – which was already shot sky
high from the fights – nearly send his heart erupting from his chest as he
imagined Sasuke being among the dead bodies. Noticing Tenten’s familiar
hairstyle, he quickened his steps again until he came to a stop before her.
(Oh my…God)
“Haku!”
he cried out as his frantic gaze settled on the person cradled within her arms.
He stooped to his haunches to eye the extremely pale features; his fear growing
tenfold as he noticed how dark and drenched –
(the blood
loss!)
…the
lower half of Haku’s body was.
“He’s
still breathing, but barely,” Tenten was saying as Itachi reached out to caress
the face tenderly; a hard lump forming in his throat. How on earth would Sasuke
deal with this? Losing Haku was going to be akin to losing a younger brother at
this stage in his life.
“Kimimaro
stabbed his lower back,” Tenten explained. “This officer saw everything.”
The
officer in question was Tsubasa, who had trailed after Haku and Sasuke on their
quest to find Orochimaru. He nodded as he met Itachi’s querying gaze; trying
not to look too in awe at finally seeing the ‘missing’ Uchiha brother and
remorse for not being able to do more.
“They
were in a fight,” Tsubasa began. “Sasuke-sama defeated Ukon.” He pointed to a
body on the right that was already half-buried in the snow. “And Haku-sama
defeated Sakon.” He pointed to another body further away. “However, it was
Kimimaro-sama who shot them and then went for Haku-san. He gave Sasuke-sama
permission to fight Orochimaru with no interruptions.” This time he pointed
behind him and into what looked like a dark corridor that was barely lit. “Haku
and Kimimaro-sama got into a fight themselves, but it seemed more like a
discussion they had. I –“
His
words faltered as they heard shuffling noises coming from said dark corridor.
On instinct, they all stiffened in awareness; Tenten cradling Haku protectively
against her body while reaching for one of her wakizashi. Fuu stood protectively in front of Itachi as he rose
slowly to his feet with katana at the
ready for an ambush. The seconds seemed to tick on forever, and just when
Itachi felt he’d go mad with anticipation, their ‘attackers’ turned out to be –
“God
help me,” he breathed as his heart twisted with pain and yet relief at the
sight of the three men he had sent into the lion’s den all those months ago. To
see their bloodied and beaten bodies barely able to hang on (for Kiba and
Suigetsu were doing their best to hold up a Jūgo that couldn’t even move
on his own) – and Tenten’s low cry of alarm was more than enough – Itachi lunged
just in time to catch the falling trio.
“Ita…Itachi-sama?”
Kiba croaked; his visible eye welling with emotion at the sight of the man they
had suffered through all this for. “We…Jūgo -”
“Don’t
say anything,” Itachi ordered kindly, while squeezing Kiba’s shoulder gently.
“I’m proud of you…all of you…” This time he directed his gaze to Suigetsu, who
had slumped to the ground in exhaustion.
“Wan…wanted
to ki…kick his ass…” Suigetsu panted with a wry smile that looked more like a
grimace on his battered features. “You…your brother,” he explained with a
glance at Itachi. “He…he…rescued us…the bas…bastard…but…you better go in
there…that Orochimaru guy’s…nuts.”
Itachi
nodded in understanding. “The priority is to get you all better. Tenten and
this officer here will get you to safety -”
“…not…me…”
Jūgo’s
barely audible words had everyone glancing at him in surprise. His eyes weren’t
open, and they couldn’t even if they wanted to. Whoever tortured them had
seemed to inflict the most damage on the big guy. His once open and kindly
features were no longer recognizable; even that familiar shock of orange hair
now looked like a grotesque congealed maroon mixture. A trembling hand was
raised as high as it could go – which wasn’t that much – but Itachi knelt
beside him and clutched the hand tightly to his chest anyway.
“Hang
in there, Jūgo,” he whispered firmly. “Sasori and the others will be here
to take care of your wounds until we can get you to the hospi -”
“No…”
came the harsh but urgent word as Jūgo shook his head slowly. “Can’t…don’t
bother -”
“What
are you talking about?” Suigetsu snapped as he tried to sit up. His tone was
angry and yet it trembled as he realized what the big guy was planning on
doing. “You’re not quitting on us now. You’ll get better -”
Jūgo’s
lips curved into a tiny smile as a tear escaped the corner of his eye.
“Thank…you…Suigetsu -”
“What
are you thanking me for, you big…urgh! Fuck this!” His breath caught and he
forced himself to stand up and stagger away before collapsing onto the snow
with a growl of frustration. “Goddamnit!”
“Kiba…”
Jūgo continued; his voice fainter still, and Kiba – who had turned away
initially, finally forced himself to look at the kindest yet bravest man he had
ever met. It was Jūgo who had taken most of the punishment. Jūgo who
had gone out of his way to try to fight Orochimaru head on until Kimimaro had
stepped in. Jūgo who had smiled at his friends and tried to reassure them
that everything was going to be just fine; that they would survive and get out
of this place no matter what. It was Jūgo who had allowed Kimimaro to take
out his frustrations on him and Kiba could have sworn that the white-haired man
had been crying with every blow, lash or strike inflicted upon the bigger man.
It was finally Kiba who had to beg that they stop or Jūgo really would
have died there and then.
“…take
care…of…Aka…Akamaru…” Jūgo whispered as the hand within Itachi’s grasp
began to grow weak. “You…thank you…Itachi…sama…”
Itachi
gritted his teeth; not trusting himself to speak. He could still remember the
day he had posed the question to the group of young men in that stuffy
underground meeting room and how Jūgo had been the first to raise his hand
to offer himself –
(a sacrifice)
This
was so unfair!
Jūgo’s
breath shuddered as he struggled to speak. He must have sensed the internal
conflict Itachi was going through, for he managed one weak squeeze of the older
man's hand as if to reassure him. “Don’t be…sad…Itachi-sama,” he rasped. “…I…pro…promised…Kim…Kimimaro…waiting…for…me…he…is…waiting…thank
you…for letting me see him…one last time…thank you…”
And
with that lone tear trailing down his cheek - and what looked like the
semblance of a peaceful smile on his visage – the ‘gentle giant’ Jūgo took
his last breath; leaving behind a group of people whose lives he had touched in
some way. The sudden low hoot would have them all looking up to notice
Jūgo’s graceful snow owl circle around them for a moment – perhaps paying
its final respects to one of the rare humans who could understand their
language - before becoming one with the
snow as it eventually flew into the heavens never to be seen again.
Itachi
leaned closer to place a gentle kiss on Jūgo’s forehead, squeezed the
large but capable hand one last time before positioning both upon the broad
chest.
(farewell…and
may you finally find your happiness with him in the afterlife. Goodness knows
you deserve it)
He
rose to his feet and looked toward the dark corridor for a long minute before
barking out curtly,
“Tenten.”
“Ye…yes,”
came the sobbed reply.
“Dry
your eyes,” Itachi said without looking at her. “We have a lot of work to do.
When Sasori arrives -”
“I’m
here,” came the quiet words, which elicited a few gasps of surprise as no one
had even heard the red-haired man arrive. How long he had been here watching
the proceedings was anyone’s guess. No wonder his recon skills were second to
none.
“Good,”
Itachi said with a small smile. “See to it that their wounds are treated,
especially Haku’s. I’ll return shortly to get an update on what’s happening
around the grounds.”
And
hardly waiting for anyone to respond to his decision, he dashed toward the
darkness; the weight of Jūgo’s death and the fear of what was to become of
his brother now a terrible burden upon his shoulders.
__
Present
Day:
He
looked up as a shadow fell over him, but only to find his lips captured in a
brief but hard kiss that brought a reluctant but weary smile to his face.
“Still
working?” Shisui asked as he pulled away to eye the paperwork spread across the
low desk in Itachi’s ‘office’. The term was used loosely as it was still
undergoing construction (as most of the grounds were actually) and Itachi had
needed a place to get some work done, so this unfinished room would have to do
for now.
Itachi
dropped the quill and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands. It was almost
two in the morning and Byaku-Shinkyou at this hour was both at its most peaceful
and yet haunting. Perhaps haunting would be a better word considering the
events that had taken place since that night.
“It
never seems to end,” he finally muttered as he lowered his hands to study them
as if seeing them for the first time. He looked up to notice his partner
watching him thoughtfully from his position by the doorway. Shisui – dressed in
a yukata – looked considerably less
tense than he had been in the past few months. It was as if the ‘conquering’ of
Orochimaru had finally given him cause to see the world as a whole lot more
than a battlefield. He was throwing himself into the restoration of
Byaku-Shinkyou with everything he had, and while Itachi was forced to become
the public face of the ‘new and improved’ Uchiha clan to the rest of the world,
he and Sasuke had been content to remain in the background.
Speaking
of which…
“Did
you see him today?” Shisui asked quietly.
Itachi
shook his head with a wry smile. “He’s so busy going through Orochimaru’s
underground den …I’m a little worried.”
“You
think he’ll become influenced by what he sees there?”
Itachi
bit his lower lip in thought. How could he explain to Shisui just what he had
witnessed that night when he finally arrived in Orochimaru’s private quarters?
After the initial shock of seeing Orochimaru’s head sitting upon the gaudy
golden ‘throne’ and the body swimming in a pool of its own blood, his panicked
gaze had drifted over Lee and Neji – hardly hearing whatever they were saying –
as fear seemed to claw at his heart with ravenous greed. He finally noticed
Sasuke seeming to haunch within himself in a corner of the room; a sound – a
cross between laughter, sobbing and moaning – escaping his lips.
“I
wouldn’t go to close to him,” Neji seemed to be saying as Itachi began walking
toward his brother. “He nearly took our heads off -”
He
simply held a hand up to silence Neji’s concerns, more than aware of Sasuke’s
current state of mind. He wouldn’t pretend to know exactly what his brother was
thinking, but the moment he dared to reach out to touch Sasuke’s head gently,
Itachi nearly got a taste of what Neji was talking about.
Itachi
barely saw him move and yet if he had remained standing there, the blade would
have slashed right through his neck. However, his quick reflexes had him
weaving away yet reaching out to grasp Sasuke’s wrist tightly. Sasuke snarled;
dark eyes wide, unseeing and filled with an expression that could only be
considered as pure insanity.
“Itachi-sama!”
Lee cried out; ready to defend his mentor, but Itachi bellowed back as he
sensed the other men coming closer.
“Leave
us!”
“But
Itachi-sama...!”
“Go
NOW,” he ordered firmly. “The others need you. I’ll be fine. Don’t wor…shit!”
For as he was saying this, he had to dodge the kick that was aimed at his
torso. He cursed and countered with a hard blow to Sasuke’s side, wincing at
the grunt this elicited from a man who was obviously still in pain from
whatever fights he had engaged in. However, it was more than enough for Itachi,
for when Sasuke tried to lunge for him again, he twisted the wrist he had been
gripping; forcing the katana to drop
to the floor with a loud clatter.
Once
he was sure Lee and Neji had left the room, Itachi increased the pressure on
Sasuke’s wrist; intensely watching those dark eyes to see if anything was
getting through.
(come back to
me, Sasuke)
The
younger brother lunged again, this time using his free hand to try to deliver a
blow, but Itachi was too quick. He weaved away, lashing out at the offending
arm with a swiftly delivered kick that had Sasuke groaning in pain before
sinking to his knees in a sudden show of resignation. He lowered his head
before shaking it slowly back and forth as if trying to get rid of something.
“…Sasuke?”
Itachi called out softly. “Can you hear me?”
There
was no answer for a long minute, and just when Itachi was about to contemplate
slapping some sense into him again, Sasuke finally lifted his head to reveal an
expression that sent a sharp pang of an emotion so strong; Itachi was sure
there had to be something beyond the mere ‘love’ one ought to have for another.
He had never seen his brother look so frightened and vulnerable, and at the
barely audible –
“..niisan?”
…that
was whispered, Itachi fell to his knees to engulf Sasuke in a hug that muffled
the harsh sobs that now seemed wrenched from Sasuke’s throat. These were the
real tears he had stored up for so long, and Itachi was more than willing to let
them fall.
“It’s
all over,” he whispered into the thick dark hair as he too felt the first
trickle of tears burn his eyes. After fourteen long and trying years…
“It’s
finally over, Sasuke.”
__
At
least that part of things were, for there was so much more to deal with when
they finally came back to the ‘real world’ (so to speak).
The
reinforcements had finally arrived, and along with the anti-Orochimaru
watchdogs, they had set about going deeper into the grounds to rescue trapped
prisoners, capture Orochimaru loyalists and most importantly put out the fires.
By morning (and with some help from the overnight snowfall), most of the fires
had been extinguished, but the damage was quite extensive. Ninety-percent of
the officers’ mess was destroyed – for the fire had started there – and it had
spread to most of the residential/prisoners’ quarters. This forced Itachi (as
per Sasuke’s suggestion) to make the unfortunate decision of sending those
prisoners who had either been too sick or terrified to escape, to take up
residence within the caves making up the West Block.
As
for the East Block – the torture section – that had been ravaged by rebellious
prisoners. The carnage and destruction in there was worrisome for there was now
the likelihood that the escaped felons were now out and about on the streets.
None of the officers in charge of E-Block had survived the massacre and most of
the paperwork in Officer Fudo’s office was nothing now nothing more than ashes.
Speaking of Fudo, he and a few other officers had been dragged down to the
chamber where Naruto (and so many others) had been tortured and were delivered
some of the worst treatment possible. As for the Torture Master himself…let’s
just say Naruto might have patted the prisoners on the back for a job well
done. The fat bastard definitely wouldn’t be missed.
Next
was the painful and arduous task of finding and piling all the dead bodies. The
final count when all had been gathered? A hundred and sixty-five prisoners and
forty officers dead; either murdered or victims of the fire.
To
make matters worse, the events that had taken place were slowly being leaked to
the press. With the announcement of the death of Orochimaru finally making its
way to the Tarumae mountains - where the battle was still taking place between
his army and Akatsuki – and the presence of the troops the three remaining daimyos had sent as reinforcement, they
finally raised the white flag in surrender; sparing more unnecessary lives
lost. With the press now salivating at the chance for some kind of news about
the ‘mystery’ Uchiha brothers returning from the dead, Itachi, Shisui and Sasuke
had done the best they could to make Byaku-Shinkyou as presentable as possible.
A challenge to say the least.
Most
of the villagers straggled in to help with the cleanup, focusing on washing
away blood stains, clearing debris and of course burying the bodies in a
make-shift graveyard amongst the mountains. Sasuke gave the order to barricade
Orochimaru’s quarters; preventing anyone from going there until he made up his
mind on what to do with it. And as for Orochimaru’s body? Surprisingly, Sasuke
had requested it be cremated and his ashes sent to the mountains at Usu. There
was no pomp and circumstance surrounding this event, and it seemed almost
pitiful that a man so full of delusion and grandeur would end up as nothing
more than ashes in a simple clay jar.
Unfortunately,
all of this seemed to pale in comparison when they finally discovered
Orochimaru’s underground lairs; rooms he had carved within the caves to harbor
his special labs and libraries. From Sasuke’s expression, it was clear he had
no idea such places existed and as the brothers (and Shisui) explored for
endless hours, they were given an insight into just how tormented and demented
Orochimaru had become especially in the latter years. Sasuke had revealed the
serum Orochimaru had used on his eyes and the men had discovered seemingly
hundreds of jars with the clear fluid stored within makeshift shelves.
“At
least he left us with a gift,” Shisui
had deduced wryly. “We can thank him for that.”
However,
that was as far as their gratitude went, for other jars and clear display cases
contained items that made them nauseous and sick to their stomach. Ranging from
eyeballs to unborn fetuses floating in formaldehyde, Orochimaru had spared no
expense to see that his research went beyond normal standard practices. As if
that wasn’t bad enough, they also discovered the room where he performed his
blood transfusions. Looking like something out of a horror-sci-fi themed movie;
the claustrophobic space was riddled with so many tubes, IV lines, machines to
monitor one’s heart rate, and breathing apparatuses – all connected to large
containers still filled with fresh blood. Knowing that countless members of
their clan had been his guinea pigs (the sick bastard even had a freezer storage unit for bodies for crying
out loud!) had sent Shisui smashing the equipment with a rage that did not take
either brother by surprise.
They
would eventually take the bottles of serum above ground, with the hope that
more of the Uchiha who had remained hidden in the shadows, would finally come
forward to receive the medication. Thankfully, the clinic within the grounds
had been spared from most of the fire and Kabuto - who had survived the riot
only because he had been in Tokyo during that time – had the unenviable task of
learning how to administer the drug as well as taking care of the many victims
still suffering from the effects of that night. To say he was flabbergasted at
what had taken place, would be an understatement. He had considered quitting - for
his loyalties still lay with his mentor, Orochimaru - however, Sasuke’s
none-too-subtle-threat of killing him if he dared leave, had sent the
bespectacled man back to his role as reluctant caregiver. Goodness knew he
might not have kept his promise, but with Karin and Hinata volunteering to be
his assistants, Kabuto knew he had to be on his best behavior before the
watchful eyes of the astute females.
With
their excellent medical skills, Kiba and Suigetsu were back to a semblance of
their former selves, though Kiba had requested he take some time off to go back
to home. Suigetsu, who had no one waiting for him outside the walls of
Byaku-Shinkyou, made the decision to remain within the grounds and to assist
with the reconstruction. If he was still hell bent on fighting Sasuke to make
up for his brother’s demise, he gave no inclination of it – at least for now.
The same went for the other members of Akatsuki, who all offered to remain
within or around town to help as much as they could. And though Itachi had
insisted that they were no longer bound to remain within the group and were
free to go their separate ways now that the war was over, no one would hear of
it. Itachi had led them through the darkest points of their lives and now they
would be there for him whether he liked it or not.
Such
loyalty was enough to make anyone emotional, and Itachi – though keeping a
straight face throughout the meeting – finally cracked the façade in the quiet
of his room later that night. Sometimes he felt he didn’t deserve such ‘hero’
worship, but he considered himself lucky to have met such a great group of
young men and women he could rely on.
With
all of this going on, Itachi had to pinch himself to realize just how fast time
seemed to go by. It was almost two months since their arrival here; and though he couldn’t say it felt like
‘home’ completely – for he was more than aware of Orochimaru’s presence in most
places – he felt he could get used to it eventually…
(almost)
Their
childhood home – which was Sasuke’s residence all these years – had been spared
for the fires. Itachi had wandered around the familiar, yet unfamiliar rooms in
quiet contemplation as memories came flooding back with every gentle caress of
a shoji screen door or a piece of furniture. His bedroom (as well as his parents’)
was still the way it had been when he ‘left’ all those years ago. Sasuke had
confessed he hadn’t been able to go into those rooms since the ambush, neither
would he allow anyone to do any sort of housekeeping. And so they had remained;
ghostly reminders filled with layers of dust and the yellowed smell of frozen
time.
(how much
pain you must have lived with, Sasuke. I
couldn’t even begin to imagine…)
“He’ll
be fine,” Shisui’s words came drifting into his thoughts, forcing Itachi to pay
attention to his partner, who allowed a warm smile to come to his visage. “You
forget he’s no longer that baby kid brother you used to dream about. He’s
what…? Twenty? He’s practically ready to get married and start his own family.”
Itachi
chuckled weakly. “That’s going to be a bit of a problem, isn’t it? With he and
I not particularly interested in women…at least he isn’t at this time…I have a
sinking feeling we might be the last line of defense for this branch of the
Uchiha family tree.”
Shisui
smirked. “Ever heard of surrogate mothers, my dear? All you need do is find a
woman willing to carry your…our seed
for a few months and viola. You’ve
got an offspring to expand the family tree for a few more generations.”
“A
woman, huh?” Itachi raised a brow with a teasing smile. “You know ever since
that interview I gave to the media, I’ve gotten quite a few candidates knocking
at my…argh!”
He
couldn’t help laughing as Shisui tackled him to the floor –
(damn his
lover’s speed)
…only
to be silenced as those warm and tender lips claimed his again in a kiss that
left him breathless and aching for more. He sighed and wrapped his arms around
Shisui’s neck, mounds of paperwork forgotten as he stared into dark eyes that
burned for him and only him. It was wonderful to have someone he could share
his innermost thoughts, fears and dreams with. However, he couldn’t help
feeling a slight pang of guilt at being able to enjoy this moment while Sasuke…
(waits)
…appeared
to be too burdened with his new responsibilities and no time to really think
about the one he most wanted to be with. If Itachi could fly down to Tokyo,
this very minute, to bring Naruto back to Byaku-Shinkyou, he’d have gladly done
so. However, Jiraiya’s words of ‘allowing Naruto to fully heal and deal with
some unfinished affairs’ had forced Itachi to back away from that plan.
(and knowing
Sasuke…no matter how long it takes, he’ll wait)
“I
love you,” Itachi finally whispered as their foreheads met and their breaths
mingled to become one. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Prove
it to me then,” Shisui invited huskily as his lips began to trail down Itachi’s
arched neck while a hand slid beneath the yukata to caress the trembling flesh beneath. “Prove it to me now until our dying
breath, my love.”
Until our
dying breath, Itachi thought with an ache in his heart as he closed his eyes and gave himself
up to inevitable exquisite pleasure. Ah,
Shisui…my beloved…I’m yours…always…
__
Haku:
Twice.
Twice
now he had come face-to-face with Death. Twice he had found himself standing at
its doorstep, staring into the darkness that was likely to consume him, and
twice now a hand had reached into that darkness to yank him back into the
light.
There
were days he still wondered if he deserved it; if Life was somehow trying to
tell him something.
(it is not yet
your time…endure…just a little bit longer)
He
sighed and wrapped the cloak a little tighter around his body; his steps slow
and steady within the inch of snow that had fallen the night before. It was
only mid-October and Mother Nature had deemed it fit to send Winter’s Wrath
upon them earlier than it normally would. Still, as he approached the crest of
the mountain, he was again reminded of why he would forever love this place
despite the pain and heartache it brought him.
From
his vantage point, Byaku-Shinkyou looked splendid beneath the cold mid-morning
sun. Though parts of it were still in shambles and signs of re-building were
taking place, nothing could take away the majestic setting and the
breathlessness one experienced when taking in the overall geography. Haku made
a mental note to request that his body – when his time eventually came – be
placed somewhere here, so he could always look out to this scene in the
afterlife.
For
now though, he had to pay his respects to the one who had almost sent him there
in the first place.
He
withdrew the small bouquet of flowers from within his robe as he approached the
two unmarked graves in which Kimimaro and Jūgo had been buried
side-by-side. Haku – and with some effort – stooped to his haunches to place
the flowers on the gravestones, before rising to his feet with a wince of pain
as he lower back protested the movement.
(you were lucky, the doctor had said, whoever stabbed you avoided hitting the
vital nerves in your spine or you would have ended up being paralyzed from the
waist down)
He
shuddered and embraced himself tightly.
(why let me
live, Kimimaro-sama? When you had the opportunity to finish me off there and
then?)
How
many sleepless nights had he replayed that moment – when the blade pierced
through his flesh – over and over again within his troubled mind? How many
times could he hear the anguish in those whispered words of final atonement,
and how many times had Haku wondered if he could have done so much more to
rescue Kimimaro from his inevitable Fate. In hindsight, what could he have
possibly done? And would Kimimaro have listened anyway?
He
would later come to learn that the one named Jūgo had tried to be the
reasonable voice in Kimimaro’s tumultuous existence; that Jūgo had risked
his life daring to challenge his childhood friend to turn away from
Orochimaru’s chokehold over him, and what had he received for all his valiant
efforts? Nothing but an unmarked grave and the naive hope that at least both
tortured men were finally together in Heaven (or Hell). It was Suigetsu who had
gone out of his way to request that Jūgo be buried next to Kimimaro while
Haku had pleaded with Sasuke to let Kimimaro’s few remains be buried instead of
discarded like trash. And though his (ex)master had not attended the small
funeral held for both men, Itachi’s presence more than made up for it even if
he really hadn’t been there to pay respects to Kimimaro per se.
(one chapter
closed…)
With
his legs beginning to get tired (just one of the after effects of the
stabbing), he sat upon a boulder beneath a stark tree whose limbs bowed with
the weight of snow accumulated upon it – to catch his breath. He closed his
eyes and tried to piece together the events of the last two months as best he
could.
He
had woken up in a hospital in Sapporo, where a very relieved Sasuke had been
keeping watch over him during the two days he was passed out. He would later be
regaled of Sasuke’s success in defeating Orochimaru, though he was yet to bring
up that topic with his (ex) master in the few discussions they had had so far.
Besides, Sasuke was so busy these days, Haku was lucky if he even got a chance
to see his (ex)master for more than an hour at a time. He hated to admit that a
part of him still felt guilty at not being ‘there’ for Sasuke during his
confrontation with Orochimaru, for that promise he had made to never leave his
master’s side, no matter what – tore at him. So yes, Sasuke had tried to
reassure him that there was nothing he could have done anyway, but Haku had
still felt useless and disappointed. Those feelings were made even worse with
his current situation. He knew he was now no longer as quick as he used to be,
and goodness knew how long it would take until his wounds were finally healed.
Sasuke didn’t complain when Haku set about doing little errands for him here
and there, but at the same time, he was more than aware that Sasuke was capable
of handling so many more things on his own without his help.
(what good am
I to him now? What happens to me from now on? Where do I go from here?)
How
he wished Naruto-kun would return and perhaps help to ease the tension building
between them. He had heard of Naruto’s success in taking down Ikegami and Danzo
(indirectly); news that did more to excite him at the prospect of seeing the
vivacious blond again. It had been a long (almost) seven months since he last
saw Naruto, and visions of how their reunion would be –
(if it ever
happened)
…had
consumed some of his thoughts. What would Naruto look like now? Would his
encounter with the yakuza have
changed him? Would he become more cynical with his outlook on life? Or had he
managed to retain that humanity that had endeared Haku to him in the first
place? As for his ‘other’ feelings for Naruto…well…
(fondness)
…Haku
wasn’t quite sure anymore. He knew he did care for the blond and like Sasuke,
would do anything requested of him, so what did it all mean? Was he finally
ready to let go of Naruto emotionally? Was that part of him now ready to admit
that he could and would never be the
one for Naruto; that the dark-haired man who seemed more content to bury
himself with work these days – was the one truly meant for him?
(if that’s the
case…)
“So
this is where you’ve been hiding. Should
have guessed,” came the softly-spoken words, which had Haku sitting up with a
gasp of surprise. He kicked himself inwardly at his absentmindedness; knowing
that the old him would have been more alert at the presence of someone else in
the vicinity. However, seeing the familiar face approach eased the hard
thumping within his chest, and he broke into a shy smile of welcome.
“Sasori-sama.
What are you doing here?”
Sasori,
who was dressed in a similar dark robe, reached into it to withdraw the small
vial hidden within. “You missed taking your meds this morning,” he chided
gently. “I came in to check up on you, and you were gone…bottle untouched.” He
frowned, though his eyes were still filled with a warmth that sent a flush of
color to Haku’s cheeks. “Don’t make me force feed it to you.”
“Sorry,”
Haku muttered and accepted the bitter-tasting liquid. He swallowed with a
grimace, only to sigh in gratitude as something much sweeter (water actually)
was immediately placed against his lips. He drank like a man deprived; his
blush darkening as he caught the intense gaze trained on him by the older man.
[Which was hard to believe in itself as Sasori looked as if he was barely older
than Haku]
“Than…thank
you,” he gasped when he was almost through finishing the contents of the flask.
“I needed that.”
Sasori
gave a non-committal grunt and tucked away both objects before turning to face
the graves Haku had paid homage to earlier. Neither man said anything for a
long time, but that was okay. Haku was used to Sasori’s silences by this time.
From the moment Sasori had decided to take charge of his training, Haku had
come to learn of the older man’s nuances and quirks. Sasori was not much of a
talker, but when he did speak, he always had something of importance to say. He
seemed to enjoy art – something he had in common with Deidara as both men would
sometimes get into heated arguments over whose artistic merit was better – and
had tried to get Haku to appreciate the craft. On one occasion, he had taken
Haku to an art exhibit – something Haku hadn’t been able to tell Sasuke at the
time for fear it might be taken the wrong way. He wouldn’t call it a date, as
Sasori hadn’t made any attempts to become intimate, but Haku had learned more
about Sasori’s life and how he had ended up joining Akatsuki. [His parents had
been murdered by Orochimaru’s minions because of Sasori’s father’s position in
the military at the time]
For
his part, Haku had been more reserved; the memories of Sai’s betrayal still
fresh in his mind as he resisted the urge to be as forthcoming as he could have
been. He had worried that his evasiveness would upset Sasori, but if anything,
the older man seemed more content to attend to him rather than pester for
personal information that was none of his business.
That
attention had been more obvious with his most recent injury. It was Sasori who
had taken him to Sapporo and had been by his bedside before Sasuke arrived. It
was Sasori who traveled back with him to Byaku-Shinkyou and who had gone out of
his way to become his ‘nurse’ and ‘physical therapist’. It was almost
embarrassing to have someone else wait hand and foot on him, but Haku had
slowly come to appreciate the other man’s presence especially during those
times when Sasuke didn’t need him for anything. The idea of returning to his
quiet room and being all alone was shattered at the sight of the red-head
reading or practicing some of his calligraphy. He wouldn’t leave until Haku was
fast asleep, and he was first face seen when Haku awakened in the morning.
Even
Deidara had begun to tease that Sasori had the ‘hots’ for Haku and just didn’t
know how to say it. For his taunting, Sasori had delivered the mother of all
punches to the blond’s face with a snarl to ‘shut his goddamn mouth’ before
stomping off red-faced at the insinuation that he could be lovesick.
“I
was thinking,” Sasori finally said aloud, even though he wasn’t looking at Haku
as he spoke. Haku glanced at him with a raised brow; for he had noticed a
slight tremble in the older man’s voice. Sasori cleared his throat and spoke
again; this time in a much firmer tone. “I have been doing some thinking,
Haku…and I think it’s best we leave this place for a while.”
Huh?
Haku
blinked in bemusement. “What do you mean, Sasori-sama?”
Sasori
seemed to sigh, ran fingers through his hair before finally turning around. His
expression gave nothing away, but there was something in those eyes that had
the younger man’s heart skipping a beat.
“I
know you have your loyalties to Sasuke, but…you need sometime away to
completely heal from your injuries and…uh…”
Was
it his imagination or were Sasori’s cheeks turning pink?
“…I
think it’s best we go to a place where it’s peaceful and less chaotic… for you
to get some proper rest that is.”
“But
it’s peaceful here,” Haku explained with a wave of his hand toward the serene
surroundings. “I love it here.”
“Up
here it’s serene,” Sasori agreed with a nod, “but I’m not talking about living
in the goddamn mountains, Haku. Down there…it’s still a mess, and I hate
knowing you’ll be going about trying to please Sasuke who’s got his hands full
at the moment and no time for you.”
Haku
winced, but knew – oh how he knew – how right Sasori was.
There
was a heavy sigh and Sasori spoke again, this time in a much gentler tone. “I
don’t mean to say that he doesn’t appreciate you being there for him, but the
reality is…you cannot be his manservant forever, and I’m sure he’s probably
told you that already. You’ve got to set off on your path, Haku. There’s so
much more out there for you to explore and…I want to help you discover your
potential…if you’ll let me.”
The
last few words were almost lost in a mumble, but Haku had heard all the same.
He wanted to deny Sasori’s reasoning; to argue that Sasuke did need him and would continue to need him for as long as he
lived. However, a sad glance at Kimimaro’s grave was a painful reminder of
where his thoughts were leading him. Perhaps Kimimaro had once felt the same
way; that his life belonged with Orochimaru and nothing else out there would be
good enough. Was he bound to become as ‘blind’ as Kimimaro if he chose to
continue to latch on to Sasuke? Would it eventually become too little too late
when he realized that he had missed his opportunity ‘out there’ simply because
he chose to remain beside a man whose need for him was no longer precedent?
He
closed his eyes and could almost – almost - hear a voice whisper softly into his ear -
(do not make
the same mistakes I did)
He
lifted his lashes to meet the deep-set brown ones still staring at him with an
unspoken question (plea) within them.
Dare I take
the plunge? If I say yes…
“Haku?”
Sasori called out gently, and in a gesture he had never done in all their time
together, he moved closer still until his warm hand cupped Haku’s cheek
tenderly. “Will you come with me?”
“Sasori-sama…”
“I
know you’re afraid,” Sasori interrupted quietly as he pressed his lips against
Haku’s forehead. “I know what it’s like to leave the comfort of one you are so
familiar with and to dare go outside the box, but I promise to be here for you
for as long as you need me. Will you let someone else…me…take care of you for once?” He pulled away a little to smile
almost shyly at the younger man. “Consider me your servant if you want.”
Haku’s
cheeks blossomed with a warmth that had his heart fluttering with hope (and
still that fear of the unknown). His eyes burned with tears that finally broke
free to roll down his cheeks, and as he buried his heated features against the
chest of the older man, all he could think about was how he was going to break
the news to Sasuke-sama.
(one chapter
closed…and a new one has to begin)
__
Sasuke:
Two
hundred trained officers – not
including the Orochimaru loyalists still held in captivity. If I include them,
we will have a grand total of only two hundred and twenty-five officers; well
short of the staggering number Orochimaru had kept during his reign. Of course
there were several reasons for the shortage:
1.
Many had
defected during the last Gudan and, of course, the most recent riot.
2.
Some had lost
their lives in said riot.
3.
Some had
decided to turn in their badges and weapons; spilling some shit about not being
worthy enough to wear the Uchiha mon.
Luckily,
Kurobachi – who had survived the battle at the mountains – had vowed to begin
training some of the Akatsuki members who had fought with him up there. He had
at least a hundred men to work with, and he promised to whip them into watchdog
form in about a month.
(works for
me…)
I
assigned him to become Captain of the First Squad – my former position. That
was the easy part. The problem now was finding even more qualified officers to
be in charge of the new squads I had to form. I stared at the list of names
before me until my vision blurred (this had nothing to do with any side effects
from Orochimaru’s ‘magic’ serum which I hated to admit had really improved my
vision considerably). Simply put, I was fucking tired. I had lost all sense of
time as I’ve been stuck in my office trying to re-create some semblance of
organization in a broken system. Itachi has been dealing with the financial
side of things; for rebuilding and hosting a conference of all the watchdog
commissioners from across the country – was not going to be a cheap undertaking.
We had scoured through Orochimaru’s journals to discover where he might have
hidden funds, but there was no secret room filled with crates of gold and fine
jewelry or even money. The most we found was a big brown envelope delivered by
the - now deceased - daimyō containing over a million yen.
“He
must have a secret bank account or something,” Shisui had deduced with barely
concealed frustration. “You can’t tell me that all these years, he wouldn’t
have money stashed away somewhere. And what about your family’s inheritance?
Your father’s Will? Have you guys tried finding where that is?”
Where
indeed. I couldn’t remember Orochimaru ever disclosing that to me, and why
would he? For all I knew, he might have burned the entire thing to the ground
after discovering them.
“I’ll
look up some of my father’s old friends,” Itachi decided. “I’m not sure if any
of them are lawyers, but it should be easy to find one or two willing to help
us.”
[Let
it be known – for the record – that Orochimaru’s foreign accounts were eventually
frozen since he was considered a criminal, hence our inability to access them.
Of course this unfortunate revelation would come much later.]
With
a heavy sigh, I tapped my pen on the journal, restlessly; my lips pursed in
thought.
Hyūga
Neji…he could make a fine captain.
Why?
I believe I’ve already mentioned some of the qualities I noticed in him from
the moment we met. In addition, he (and his sister) had chosen to remain in
Byaku-Shinkyou to assist, and I had seen how competent he was in organizing the
few prisoners left as well as delegating officers to watch over them in
specified shifts. I didn’t know if Itachi had ordered him to do so, but it was
a job that was greatly appreciated on my end. In fact, I had come to realize
just how grateful I was for everyone’s input in making the transition – though
difficult – as smoothly as possible. Trying to imagine myself being all alone
and having to deal with all of this…
(no way in
Hell)
…it
was just too much to even contemplate.
As
I was just about to begin assigning officers to Neji’s capable hands (and I
briefly contemplated that Kiba character as a possible candidate), a light
cough had me looking up with a light frown at the interruption. My immediate
and conditioned reaction was to insult Asuma for bothering me, but just as
quickly as that thought had come; it vanished with a dull pang of sadness. That’s
right. Asuma was no longer here. I would never get to see that smiling (or
frowning) goateed face ever again. All the same, I relaxed as I saw who it was
and even managed a weary smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey,
yourself,” Itachi greeted with a two fingered salute and a quirk of his lips.
“Want to take a walk with me?”
I
glanced at the clock on the wall and raised a brow. “It’s almost three in the
morning. Itachi.”
“All
the more reason why we ought to take this walk. I’ve got something very
interesting to show you.”
Oh God. Please
don’t let it be yet another discovered hidden laboratory filled with dead
children or filleted carcasses. I don’t think I can deal with anymore of that
shit right now.
It
had taken me weeks to finally stop having nightmares of our earlier discoveries
– especially that disgusting blood transfusion room - and yet, I found myself
rising to my feet, grabbing my cloak and trudging beside my brother. We walked
in companionable silence, and I realized with a dull pang that this was the
first time I had seen…well spent some ‘quality’ time with him all week. With
both of us saddled with so much work, our conversations and meetings tended to
be brief and courteous.
Our
‘walk’ led us across the courtyard and into my private onsen, and I couldn’t help the small smile that came to my lips as I watched my brother perform a task I had
done several times over the years. He still knew which ‘loose’ stones to
rearrange, and as the almost noiseless underground lair began to be revealed,
we exchanged knowing smirks before descending into the waiting gloom below. We
each grabbed an oil lamp – don’t ask me how the flame never seemed to burn out
because I knew for a fact I never refilled them – and made our way past the
altar and toward the secret chamber where its natural-made ‘shelves’ were filled
with scrolls and books I had never gotten around to finishing.
Assuming
Itachi was going to show me something to read, I was surprised to notice him
stooping to his haunches before one of the ‘shelves’ but only to loosen a few
more stones on the dirt floor.
What the hell
is he…?
“I’m
sure it used to be here,” he was muttering, and with one final light grunt, I
watched in silent awe as one of the shelves began to grind its way slowly to
the right; revealing yet another hidden chamber I did not even know existed. I
don’t believe father ever showed this to me, so how…when?
“It
was a surprise to me too,” Itachi admitted as if I had spoken my question out
loud. We stepped into the much smaller chamber with its musty and even danker
smell. “Father didn’t know I was following him on that day when he opened this
particular section. I believe he and Shisui’s father came here together for
something.”
He
placed his lamp on the floor and began to unravel some of the large scrolls
stored rather haphazardly. “Maybe if we searched here, we can find something,”
he was saying as I mimicked his actions. “Dad couldn’t have left us dirt poor
for crying out loud.”
“Why
don’t we just use some of the money you earned while you were in the triad?” I
finally blurted out a thought that had crossed my mind while ruminating our
dismal financial situation. “You were rich enough back then, weren’t you?”
Itachi
huffed and yanked down another scroll. “I doubt we’ll want to get involved with
those people right about now. We’re trying to rebuild Byaku-Shinkyou into
something positive, yes? What’s the point of getting the mafia involved?”
Because I’m
crazy about someone who is now the leader of the goddamn Japanese mafia for one
thing, my mind screamed as my gaze skimmed the fading words on a scroll.
(how ironic,
eh?)
I
would laugh at the situation, but hadn’t I known from the beginning of just how
different our paths were? I was on the side of ‘good’ and Naruto would be on
the side of ‘evil’ – at least to those who were already prejudiced to the role
of the yakuza in society. Despite his
good intentions of reforming the whole system, the stigma was still going to be
there whether he liked it or not. He couldn’t turn them all into saints
overnight, and I couldn’t and wouldn’t turn a blind eye to anyone deciding to
break the law in the name of his organization. My job was to keep the peace,
and if Naruto’s ‘men’ stumbled and went astray, I would not hesitate to bring
them to justice…the right kind this time.
“A
yen for your thoughts?” Itachi’s voice teased as I glared at him and rolled my
eyes. He chuckled and my cheeks burned. “You’re so easy to read sometimes, my
dearest little brother. At least when it comes to him.”
“I’m
not going to discuss Naruto with you, dearest
older brother,” I sneered as I reached for another scroll, only to curse
softly as several of them fell and unraveled around my feet. I sighed and
stooped to begin picking them up, when I noticed a set of what appeared to be
photo albums stacked in the lower section of the shelf.
Albums?
When was the last time I saw such things?
I
pulled them out, blew out the layer of dust accumulated and opened it (with its
fine leather and gold bound cover) to see the familiar slanting text of my
father’s handwriting.
うちはイタチ
(Uchiha Itachi)
“Oooh?”
“What’s
that?” My brother asked as I turned to the first page to see the heartwarming
photograph of my (very pregnant) mother standing before what appeared to be
hospital. Ah, how young, beautiful (and so very happy) she looked. The next
showed her standing beside my father – a father who was smiling…smiling! – a rare sight indeed and one
that brought a sharp pang to my chest. I hardly noticed Itachi now by my side
as I turned over the page to view more pictures. It was as if I was watching a
film of my brother’s birth. From mother’s admission into the hospital, to the
touching moment when he was finally cradled within her arms. Subsequent
photographs showed Itachi’s growth over the years; baby pictures in some really
dorky costumes only a mother could think of, Itachi’s first steps, his first
tooth, him wailing like a banshee, learning to swim, going to school…
“Wow…who
knew Mom and Dad were so gung-ho over you?” I teased though I was more than
aware of the tightness forming in my chest. There were three more albums
devoted to Itachi, and when I finally came to mine…
(only one)
…I
was trembling so much I could barely get myself to open the first page.
Itachi
didn’t seem to mind, for he took the album from me gently and did the honors. I
bit my lower lip as I saw my name in father’s familiar scribble.
うちはサスケ (Uchiha Sasuke)
“July
23, 19xx,” Itachi read softly. And just like his album, there was my mother
looking just as beautiful before the very same hospital where her first son had
been born. My father was beside her, smiling as he had, but this time cradling
a five-year-old Itachi within his arms.
“Mom
was so happy when she realized she was pregnant with you. They had been trying
so hard but failed a few times, and just when Mom thought she would give up…you
finally came along,” Itachi said quietly
as he turned over another page to show the various images of pre-birth to the
one of Mom holding me in her arms and father placing a kiss on my forehead. My
eyes burned and I looked away with dismay and shame.
All
this time I had thought my father had been distant and unloving (for the most
part) fueled more by Orochimaru’s stories of how Dad had preferred to work
rather than spend time with me. And just like that, all of those lies were now
being squashed with photographic evidence revealing just how involved my father
had been in my formative years.
There
were photos of him carrying me at any opportunity he got, clapping his hands as
I took my first steps, feeding me, changing my diapers, teaching me how to ride
a tricycle and taking me to my first day of school.
They
were wonderful memories; something I desperately needed to add to my once murky
folders of my traumatic childhood. However, unlike Itachi’s three albums, mine
came to an abrupt end – the last picture ever taken being a simple but powerful
family portrait. There was the smiling innocent me sitting on Itachi’s lap,
while flanked by our proud and beaming parents. Carefully, I peeled away the
thin film protection and grabbed the photograph, which I tucked away in my
cloak; almost daring Itachi to say something about what I had just done. But to
my embarrassment, he did nothing but lean over to place a hard kiss on my
forehead before sighing and eyeing the mess we had created.
“Reminiscing
time is over,” he mused. “Let’s keep searching, eh?”
“…yeah,”
I mumbled and turned away; the photograph seemingly burning a hole against my
thudding heart.
I
wish I could say we found some hidden treasure in that second chamber, but we
left a few hours later, tired, hungry and cranky. I was too exhausted to even
look at my piles of paperwork and flopped onto my futon, wishing that Haku was
around to give me a massage.
(I miss having
him around…)
Miss who exactly? Haku or Naruto?
Haku
was still here and though he was still recovering, I did appreciate his
attempts to keep me satisfied despite my urgings for him to get as much rest as
possible. I hated to see him look so despondent whenever I sent him away, but
at the same time, I hoped he realized I was trying to help/push him toward
someone else who needed his attention. I wasn’t blind. I knew how much Sasori
had devoted himself to taking care of Haku, and was tremendously grateful that
he was proving to be a good companion. And hey, who knew if that relationship
could blossom into something else? I wanted Haku to be happy and if it turned
out to be Sasori…
(why worry
about matchmaking other people when you’re still all alone?)
I
groaned and buried my face in the pillow, hating the way that voice seemed to
taunt me at every opportunity. It seemed to take pleasure in reminding me of
how pathetic my situation was. It sucked to have to watch Itachi and Shisui
share their intimate moments whenever they thought they were alone. During the
day (and most nights) I could deal with the loneliness by immersing myself with
my mounting responsibilities. However, there were times – like now – when the
silence became too deafening; when my heartbeat seemed to be the only
thunderous sound within my ears, and the ache – oh that ache – would rise to the surface as every ticking second was a
painful reminder that he was not here.
There
was no reason for me not to pick up a phone and speak to him since his success
in defeating Ikegami and Danzo, but the stubborn side of me had balked at the
idea. I was not going to be content with simply hearing his voice over some
flimsy communication wire. I wanted to see him in person. Was that too much to ask? I wanted to touch him…to feel
him…to smell him…to bury and fuse myself with him until we became one again.
What good would his voice do to me over a telephone when I wanted it to breathe
into my ear? I wanted to feel that warmth, that tingle to race down my spine,
that toe-curling sensation of his tongue teasing me, those fine set of teeth
nicking gently before biting into flesh to savor me as only he could.
(ah fuck…)
Some
dreams had taken on quite graphic turns, and my humiliation at pleasuring
myself in such pitiful fashion would later be replaced with anger and
frustration at what the hell was taking him so long to see me. I tried to
squash down the fear that he was changing his mind; that he had come to the
conclusion that he no longer really needed me and had chosen to remain in the
city and away from a place filled with not too many fond memories.
Unfortunately, those fears would only last for a moment as the more carnal
desires took precedence. Hadn’t he made a promise to me? Wasn’t it the
honorable thing to fulfill that promise? So why, in God’s name, was it taking
him so long to make up his damn mind?
(and when he
does get here – after taking his sweet fucking time doing whatever it is those
damn yakuza do – I’ll punch his lights out and make him suffer for a while.
That inconsiderate son-of-a-bitch!)
My
mood did not improve the next morning, and a few unfortunate officers had to
deal with my short temper and clipped commands as I struggled to juggle the
tasks of squad formations, rebuilding plans with architects and construction
workers, and the annoying influx of phone calls from curious press still wanting to speak to either me or
Itachi about goodness knows what.
By
mid-morning, I was already nursing a headache and wanted nothing more than to
sink into my onsen and forget the
whole world existed. Sadly, I was still stuck behind my desk with plans to
curse out (or kill) anyone who dared disturb me within the next thirty minutes.
However, I should have known that such directives would fall on deaf ears when
it came to a certain someone, and it didn’t take long for him to come running
into my office; slightly out of breath.
“Sas…Sasuke-sama…?”
he panted.
I
waved a hand without looking up and sighed heavily. “Not now, Haku. Please. I’m
really busy.”
“I
know, but...” He sounded really excited for some reason. “Someone…he’s here…”
Great.
Who was it now? Yet another ‘professional’ engineer hoping to discuss what the
hell was to be done with that god-forsaken Gudan arena? I might just turn it
into a baseball field –
“If
it’s a construction worker,” I began absentmindedly, “Just tell him to wait or
talk to Officer Kurobachi until I’m ready.”
“It’s
not a construction worker!” Haku finally blurted out as if sick and tired of my
attitude. “It’s Naruto-kun! He’s here! He’s really here!”
Sure
you read it in books or see it in movies at how ‘shocked’ a person reacts to
such mind-numbing news, and perhaps one would roll his or her eyes at how
clichéd it all seems. But I swear to you, dear reader, that every damn emotion
described in those books or seen in those movies applied to me in that very
instant. Every angry and frustrated thought I had built up, suddenly seemed to
crumble to nothing as my heart –
(this foolish
heart of mine)
…literally
leapt within my chest and began a staccato beat that was unlike anything I had
ever experienced before. I trembled, so much so the pen I had been holding like
a vice, collapsed to the table and rolled to the floor from limp fingers. I
couldn’t move and yet every part of me screamed to get the fuck out of the
chair and to see for myself if Haku was telling the truth. Cue in the drying of
the mouth and my suddenly parched tongue desperately licking lips that longed
to be quenched by…by…
“It’s…are
you sure?” someone (me apparently) asked in a voice that sounded anything but
as chaotic as I felt inside. I had to pat myself on the back for sounding so
collected though the very act of breathing normally was proving to be a little
difficult.
Haku
nodded and if the silent tears of joy rolling down his cheeks were any
indication, I knew he couldn’t possibly be lying.
“Where…where
is he…?” I asked as I finally rose unsteadily to my feet, but I needn’t have
bothered for an answer as a familiar figure first placed his hand upon the
shoulder of my beloved manservant – to squeeze gently - before finally revealing
himself in all his magnificent glory.
(that…smile…oh
God…he hasn’t changed one bit)
“Sorry
I’m late,” came the warm greeting as my blue-eyed sinner grinned sheepishly. “I
swear this place has changed so much since the last time, I couldn’t help
looking around for a while…”
He
stopped rambling long enough to notice something in my expression because the
grin slowly disappeared only to be replaced with a light smirk and an
undisputed glint of mischief within those eyes.
“Fine
then, Sasuke. You hereby have the permission to kick my ass for as long and as
much as you want.”
Chapter 45
Naruto Home
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