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Fandom Redemption [Closed] [Graverobber141/arbus]

It was so very obvious.

The guard had already pointed out the fact that they were being watched, and even though an animalistic instinct scratched underneath his skin, a subconscious urge to take advantage of the situation, that turned back--take a hostage, demand to see the the Uchiha, end it once and for all--he could see through the trick easily. They wouldn't send someone as incompetent like this into the lion's den. No, it was as if they were playing with him, and just that thought fueled some deep, hidden, yet deeply ingrained fire within himself, was like experiencing the sound of long fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.

Patience.

He remained silent as he stood from the bed, hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall, stumbling toward the toilet. The light was still entirely too bright, and he felt a dull throb within his skull, one that made him grit his teeth. After relieving himself, he walked closer to the poor man stationed within here, who he doubted was even this clueless, and reached to take the water bottle, before retreating a few steps back.

"No," he repeated the word, opened the bottle, and threw back his head as he drank the liquid deeply; it felt like jumping into a cool lake on a hot summer day, soothing the pain that had burned down his throat. "I'm not a Kokoro." His grey eyes travelled around the room, and fixating on the spot where he judged the two way mirror to be--I know you're watching--he asserted, "My name is Satoru."
 
"Satoru."

The brown-haired man, wearing a simple Leaf uniform instead of the nondescript, mostly black issues T&I staff was running around in, closed the cabinet and locked it again diligently, before letting the key fall back into the left pocket of his pants. He leaned his back against the cabinet, eyes traveling over Satoru's exposed throat, watching his larynx pop, as a weapon hidden on his body connected with the steel door and gave of a dull thud. Seemingly oblivious, he smiled, his lips stretching over a row of straight white teeth.

"You can call me Sukea."

He held out the clothes he was still holding, offering them to Satoru like a suggestion. "You stink", he said, "and I guess you'll be more comfortable in that." He followed the other's gaze, unsubtly looking at the spot on the wall where the two-way mirror was hidden behind a simple camouflage jutsu, and added: "The Hokage came all the way from his office to see you", wiggling his eyebrows, as if it were an especially impressive feat.
 
Satoru dropped the now empty water bottle, listening to it thud against the ground, finding the sound almost too loud to bear, and as it rolled backwards, felt it bump against his toes. His eyes drifted back to the one called Sukea, narrowing at the distinct clink of metal, and he cocked a brow questionably.

A few beats passed before he was slowly moving forward, keeping as much distance between them as he could, as he reached out his arms to take the offered clothing. Then, more quickly, he was retreating, putting as much space between them as the small cell allowed. His gaze was steady, guarded, kept on alert like he was watching a predator. First, he changed his lower body, as that didn't require breaking eye contact. Afterward, wasting no time, he was pulling off his shirt, revealing a long scar that stretched across the lean muscle of his abdomen, another across his chest, a puncture embedded in his shoulder, before the other piece of fabric was pulled over his head.

Snapping his gaze back to his captor, he offered a grunt, before looking toward the mirror with disinterest. "Good for him. I was under the impression that he had a village to run."
 
Sukea remained where he was, hands folded behind his back, knowingly or not putting himself in a disadvantageous position in case of an attack. The mild expression on his face did not change. He politely averted his eyes when Satoru changed, but took in the scars of his skin, the long, lean upper body in his peripheral vision regardless.

"That looks nasty", he said, referring to the pink, unevenly puckered skin covering what appeared to have been a hole in Satoru's shoulder only very recently. And then, in what was almost too stark a contrast to his temperate demeanor: "Must hurt like a bitch."

The corner of his mouth twitched in what could be interpreted as a conspiratorial smirk, and he shot another glance at the two-way-mirror. "Excuse my language. I'm actually not supposed to talk to you at all, but I guess they want to see if I can get anything out of you." He shrugged his shoulder; only the left one, suggesting some sort of mannerism. "Have you met Ibiki yet? He's head of T&I. That's short for Torture and Interrogation. They told me to prep you for the first session."

He took a step forward, and, extending his arm from behind his back, stooped to pick up the discarded water bottle.
 
Satoru watched his captor's arm, flinched when he reached for the water bottle, a defensive reflex, and curled his nails into the palms of his hands to stop from wringing this man's throat--no, he would've held onto his shoulders, and torn out his jugular with his teeth.

"It's surprising what we will do to avoid pain," there was a edge to his tone, sharpened by his draining patience, this charade, being watched like a fucking animal, an invisible hand trying to force him forward upon a shogi board like he was nothing more than a pawn. He smirked, and the expression twisted his lips, was serrated, like if he were to show his teeth he would be baring fangs.

And this light. The thundering between his ears, echoing within his hollowed head. It was making it hard to think, and he needed to think.

"Which makes torture seem like an intelligent way to gather information. Until you realize a significant amount of what is able to be acquired is useless, misleading lies sprouted by a mind riddled by fear, trying desperately to make the pain stop." His storm-colored eyes darted to the two-way mirror, lingering, as if he was trying to directly address the people he thought, assumed to be behind it. "Yet, I suppose, if this is how the Hokage gets off, why not indulge him?"

His gaze snapped back to Sukea, "I don't care if you're a bad actor or a sacrifice--honestly, both make me question this village's competence--but I'm not playing your fucking games, I'm not falling for you damned tricks. Do what you will with me, but drop this pathetic charade."
 
"Oh", Sukea said, a small sound of astonishment, of surprise.

He had halted, only for the briefest of moments, to watch Satoru's reaction, the twitch of tightly-wound muscles permeated by the urge to kill. It was a smell in the air, saturated with adrenaline and cold sweat, and Sukea's nose itched with it. His pale eyes traveled in an almost lazy manner over the prisoner's face, to take in the grimace, and expression of a cornered animal. His own smile remained detached, pleasant, unbothered by the tension that spiraled ever tighter between them.

"But the Hokage knows that. In Konoha, we don't employ physical torture. It's also against our laws."

The corners of his mouth drooped, making him seem dissatisfied with what he said next: "You might have heard of the Yamanaka clan. They are experts on interrogation genjutsu. In fact, they have developed a special technique, singular to their clan, which enables them to read a person's mind." He sighed. "It's not pleasant, though. I know, because I had to suffer through it one time, too. Leaves you groggy for days."

He turned the empty water bottle in his hands. "It's not life-threatening, though. Not even very dangerous. I guess they don't want to harm you, as the Uchiha insisted on it."
 
Think.
This didn't make sense.

Rage flooded his veins like gasoline poured on a fire.
Sukea was purposely exposing himself.
Think.
They want a reaction.

The world was blurring, narrowing, his thoughts were harder to concentrate.
Control.
Think
.
His control was slipping through his fingers like water.

He backed up against the wall, clenching and unclenching his fists, jaw tight enough that the muscle was visible and flexing. His lips twitched into a snarl, his teeth visible and fierce. His eyes flashed with a hurricane, wild and untamed.

'Predict. Do not react.'

Think.
Why couldn't he fucking think?

"The Uchiha can go to hell," Satoru snarled, "And no one's getting inside my fucking head." He slammed a fist into the wall, hard enough to send a shockwave of pain reverberating back through his arm. His other hand entangled in his hair, gripping tightly, pulling, as if he could tear the thoughts from his skull. "Try it, and I'll rip out your throat."
 
Sukea's eyes narrowed for the fraction of a second, then widened.

"Hey", he said. His voice was calm, the intonation soothing. He raised both his hands, the neck of the water bottle between his fingers of the left, and took a step back to create more room. The gesture said I'm harmless. The pale eyes had grown sharp, attentive. "You seem like a smart guy. We are in Konoha, and nobody will hurt you, until you force them too."

Making sure to communicate his next movements, he threw the water bottle onto the cot that was now next to him, "They want to use that genjutsu on you because they don't know if to trust you", he continued, "to be pardoned."

A micro expression flickered across Sukea's pleasant face, a twitch of the lips, pulling at the right corner of his mouth into a slightly crooked smile. "Up until now, you've done good. Haven't killed me yet. Maybe you want to keep that up, hm?"
 
"Pardon me?" The words were unusually quiet, and trembled as they fell from Satoru's lips. And then he was shaking, like from laughter, but there was no humor, just an acknowledgement of irony. This pain in his chest, so hollow and cold it burned to the point where he was numb, they had caused it, and now it was like they expected him to thank them for it. "For what? Correcting your mistake?"

He felt small. He felt lost. He felt like that boy screaming against a world that wouldn't listen, that wouldn't care.

"And, I'm supposed to thank him for that, the Uchiha?" He asked, grinning bitterly around the words, and he was slinking down onto his knees, though his eyes remained focused on the one who called himself Sukea. "Thank him for killing the one man who ever gave a damn about me. But, you know, he's really sorry about it, right? That makes it okay, doesn't it?"

A rumbling, choked chuckle ripped itself from his throat. "Granted, I suppose he is pretty, and, I mean, considering all these people who seem to be wrapped around his pretty little finger, he must be a good lay, but I suppose the real reason is Konoha doesn't want to lose that precious sharingan. What do they matter, the graves you piss on, then, to protect your special snowflake?"

His cheek was wet, and he didn't notice. He was exhausted, and that he did notice, for it spread through his muscles, and he was leaning his back against the wall. "Kill me. Imprison me. But kindly take your pardon and go fuck yourself."
 
Sukea's eyes rested on the man on the floor, reduced to a pale, crying bundle of hurt, pain so raw it was palpable, like inflamed flesh, a taste like metal in the air. Any rational thought corroded by the hunger for revenge, all to cover up the helpless rage, the anger. Just another coping mechanism, in the end.

A tragedy, but hardly a madman. Well on his way, perhaps, but not there yet.

He returned to the cabinet, from which he retrieved two more bottles of water, placing them on the floor next to a soldier pill wrapped in a small paper envelope. "What would you have the Hokage do?", Sukea asked, clearly withdrawing towards the door now, but his voice hadn't lost its patience, nor the mild tone. It lacked any agitation, instead sounded curious. "Execute the Uchiha? Because he killed your guardian?" Sukea turned, and as he did so, the mildness had gone from his eyes. "A man who lived by the old code, who knew it was a shinobi's duty to endure. Don't you think you're doing him a great dishonor, shaming his name in your pitiful desire for revenge? Revenge for a path he had walked freely, an end he had embraced as a matter of course?"
 
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Words hardly mattered in the soul-wrecking realization of grief, when everything was falling apart inside him, yet the world kept moving on, spinning as if nothing had happened, and that felt so wrong, made him sick, made this numb, aching void in his stomach all the more painful and violent. They registered in some distant part of Satoru's mind, a forgotten portion buried beneath the hurt, overridden by the rawness of the irrational flood of emotion consuming him, devouring all thought and action, but he wasn't capable of acknowledging them.

He didn't answer. Didn't move toward the bottles of water, nor the food pill. Merely sat against the cool, concrete wall, closing his eyes finally, so he could stop staring at the blinding light, to keep this dull throb within his skull contained.

Maybe it was a few seconds. Maybe a minute. He couldn't tell. But finally, he was dragging himself to his feet, and without sparing his captor another glance, was walking over to his cot.

"I want it back," he declared quietly, before falling onto the stiff mattress, face turned toward the wall; for some reason, it offered comfort, being closed in, and helped, if only a bit, to block out the light. "His hitai-ate."

With that, he was done with the conversation, done with playing this game of theirs. They could do to him what they willed, he would not give them the satisfaction of engaging further.
 
Sukea left the water and food pill on the floor for Satoru to consume later, picked up the clothes he had shed, then left the interrogation cell, the faint buzz of reactivating seals in his wake as the door closed behind him. He walked down the corridor to step through another door close-by.

"Insolent little brat", was Ibiki's verdict. He stood broad-legged and with his arms crossed in front of his chest facing the two-way-mirror that occupied a large proportion of the wall that connected this little room with Satoru's cell. His eyes stared hard and unimpressed in at the prisoner, ignoring Sukea, who gripped into his hair to pull off the wig and release the wild mess of silver hair that was beneath. Also, a simultaneous release of a small genjutsu his sharingan once, a long time ago, had picked up in Stone, that blurred his features, made it hard for people to remember his face.

Removing the clan markings from his eyes with careful fingers, he placed the items and Satoru's clothes on a nearby table.

"He's dangerous", he conceded as he opened his eyes wide to take out the contact lenses, "cornered. Shrewd too, and remarkably patient. You will need to keep a close eye on him."

Ibiki grunted.

"Dim the lights", Kakashi ordered, turning to face the motionless figure on the bed, "let him recover." He ignored Ibiki's glance, kept his eyes on the back of the dark head for a long minute. "We don't need to break him", he said eventually to sooth Ibiki's dissatisfaction, "he'll either come around, or do the work for us." His fingers slipped beneath his collar to pull the mask back over his face.

"What about the hitai-ate?" Ibiki's tone suggested what he thought of the request: a childish, sentimental thing to ask for. As he thought Satoru's strive for revenge a childish, sentimental operation.

The Swordsman's hitai-ate. Another version of a memorial stone, an anchor in the dark cold waters of grief.

"Let him have it."

Half an hour later, when Boar was popping his head into the Hokage's office after a polite knock, he discovered his Hokage on the couch, stirring and bleary-eyed. "Thought I wake you, Hokage-sama", Boar said, and Kakashi was perceptive enough to hear the pleased note in his voice at the fact that, on his shift, the Hokage hadn't eluded him, "your appointment with the elders is coming up."

----
An hour and a half earlier

Sakura slipped onto the stool in Ichiraku's stall, pulling a face before she could help it, and rubbed the small of her back at the sharp pain the motion had triggered. But her eyes were on the menu, and even though she was not hungry, she would have to indulge Naruto's whims as not to raise any uncomfortable questions.

"Too bad Ino's on a mission", she stated. Behind her, villagers walked by, most of them housewives with little children, or uniformed shinobi on their way to the mission desk. "I would have liked to know how it's going with Sai. I can't believe they are actually dating now. Officially, I mean."

Easy to settle into the village's rhythm; the connections she had formed a long time ago like a security net beneath the narrow line she had been walking the last couple of weeks. She was safe here, both emotionally and physically, and it was like a balm to her worn down state.

Ari sniffed the air sceptically. He had not yet given up his spot on Naruto's head and was eying Teuchi, who was smiling welcoming, if a little confused, at the fox. "Do you have chicken?", he inquired. "In soup", Teuchi said, pointing at the menu. "We are a ramen stand." -- "Can I have chicken and pork?", Ari asked. Teuchi scratched his head. "Well, I don't see why not. It's not customary, but I can make an exception for Naruto's friends." Even if those friends are talking foxes, he didn't say, although it was clearly written on his face.
 
Naruto, still practically eating five out of his six daily meals at this ramen stand, didn't need to see the menu, for he had it memorized like the back of his hand, but he retrieved one for the fox on his head anyways, holding it opened so the little kitsune could glance over it should he desire. Turning his attention toward Sakura, Naruto paused, before a wide grin spread across his lips, because he was entirely happy for the other member of Team 7, even if the guy still occasionally got on his nerves.

"You know, Sai had a stack of books this big for that first date." Naruto held his palm out over the ground, to indicate the height of the so mentioned, ridiculous pile of dating and relationships books that had rivaled the ones in the Hokage's office. "And notes cards. Note cards, Sakura," he emphasized with a laugh. "And he came to me for advice. Everyone has to stop jabbing at me for being clueless and hopeless, because that guy is just as bad, if not worse."

He smiled at Teuchi and his daughter, waving his hand to get the usual order, before requesting a bowl to go, extra veggies, 'all that healthy stuff'--his exact wording, for Hinata. His knee was shaking against the rung of his stool, because he was almost literally biting his tongue to keep from telling the good news (and it might save him from having to foot this bill, maybe the old man would put it on the house?), because he wanted to wait for Sasuke to be here as well.

And with his mind on that subject...Naruto, while Sasuke had yet to grace them with his presence and he had Sakura (relatively) alone, with all the subtlety known to him as Konoha's knuckle-headed ninja, blatantly went fishing with his next question, "So...How have things been with you, Sakura-chan?"
 
With Ari being occupied with negotiating what Teuchi would and wouldn't do to his traditional ramen recipes to accomodate his wishes, Sakura sipped on the tea Ayame had just put in front of her. Somehow, she had a hard time imagining Sai with someone like Ino, but both of them were, in their very own ways, profusely nerve-wracking human beings, of course -- and Ino's eyes had sparkled when she had told Sakura about her crush, in that romantic comedy sort of way that made Sakura both happy and envious at the same time.

She noted Naruto's take-out order and smiled -- who would have thought, but Naruto was turning out to be such a considerate husband, and although the wedding felt like it had been yesterday, both he and Hinata seemed to have settled into their married life. It suited him, being cared for in that way. If anyone deserved it, it was Naruto, who had fought all his life to make himself a home.

Ari had jumped from Naruto's head to lick up a sample of soy sauce Teuchi was currently providing. Sakura watched him, and answered with the most blatant, empty phrase anyone in the history of I don't want to talk about it had probably ever come up with: "Oh, you know, fine."
 
Naruto blinked, tilting his head at Sakura's answer, because it bugged him. Urg, if that bastard hurt her in someway, I'll kill him myself, or was he just really that dumb, dragging his feet, and they called him clueless? Yet, he wasn't exactly the person to give romantic, relationship advice, considering it practically took the end of the world for him to end up with his wife, and though he wanted to help, even he could read the hint that she didn't want to talk about it (definitely probably not to him, because he was practically Sasuke's brother). Instead he gave her one of his trademarked, reassuring smiles, as if to say, it'll all work out, give it time, before offering her the excuse to seek out somebody who she would probably be more willing to talk to, "You know, I saw Granny Tsunade at the hospital this morning. She'd like to see you, sometime, Sakura-chan. You should visit her."

"And what did you do to end up at the hospital, idiot?" Speak of the devil, or the clueless, emotionally-stupid Uchiha, apparently, and he appeared. If only that had worked in the years after his defection, Naruto thought with all the love in the world. Sasuke gave Ari a small pat in greeting, before taking a seat next to Sakura, and it occurred to Naruto that Sasuke never asked about anything concerning his health. No, it was like he was trying to steer the conversation onto another subject. Naruto flashed him a knowing grin, which was returned with narrowed eyes warning to let it go.

The way the question was worded made Naruto snort, but his sheer happiness override the joke that had inserted itself in the gutter portion of his mind (thanks largely in part to the late Jiraiya). "Well, for your information, bastard," he answered, a wide smile overtaking his features. He was practically beaming, because he was just so damn happy about it, "Hinata's pregnant."
 
Naruto's smile was as reassuring as it ever had been, and Sakura found herself returning it with a genuine one of her own. Forever the optimist, she thought, and it was hard not to feel better in his company, because seeing the world through Naruto's eyes made it brighter, manageable; he was not just talk, he had followed through with his words and his promises and kept on doing so.

She stored away the information about Tsunade-shishou for later -- it was seldom, now, that her former teacher showed herself in public -- but before she could wonder, or ask Sasuke what had kept him, Naruto spilled the beans, and in the process she her tea which she had just been sipping. Coughing, and dripping peppermint tea from her chin (Ari was shaking a few droplets out of his fur) Sakura stared, and then -- if Ari had had hands right now, he would have slapped them over his ears -- she squealed.

In a flurry of motion, Sakura had wrapped her arms around Naruto. "Kami, that is wonderful!", she said, and kept saying it, hugging the knuckle-head tightly. "Nartuo, why did you wait so long to tell us?! Seriously. How is Hinata? How far along is she? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?"
 
Naruto laughed and the warm sound filled the area around them. He gladly embraced Sakura, so happy to finally share this information with them, because it felt like he was going to die, trying to keep it to himself, and they were his family. "Calm down, Sakura-chan. We only got confirmation today, didn't want to get anyone's hopes up before we knew for certain. Hinata's six weeks along, and she's already glowing, I swear."

He paused, turning his gaze to Sasuke, who was actually smiling, and not just that twitch of his lips that was barely passable for a display of emotion, but actually smiling; the expression softened his features, made him look so young, so less serious, and it fueled Naruto's happiness further, to see one of his best friends, his brother, like that, for perhaps one of the first times he ever had.

"I'm happy for you," Sasuke was saying. Then he was lifting a brow, exhaling a huff of air that was laced with genuine amusement. "Though I am surprised they actually let you breed."

"Shut up and come over here," Naruto demanded, his smile somehow growing larger, as he held out an arm in an invitation to join the hug. "You know you want to."

Sasuke hesitated, and Naruto thought he would have to guilt him--he did lose an arm for the bastard, after all, he would get his well-earned group hug, damnit--but then the final member of Team Seven was sliding from his seat, taking his sweet time, but finally he stood behind the both of them, and wrapped his arm around Naruto's shoulders.

Pulling Sasuke in by sliding his arm around his back, Naruto squeezed the both of them, letting them know, "I wanted to tell you guys first, because we're family, you know?"
 
The antics of those two, they would never end to exasperate her, Sakura thought, even as affection bubbled up in her chest. She slung an arm around each of them, and for this precious moment, there was nothing but love, and joy, and she heard laughter come out of her own mouth as if on its own volition.

"You're getting a cub?", Ari asked. He had abandoned Teuchi, who was suspiciously rubbing at his eye with the corner of his apron, in favor of the turmoil. With a leap, he was on Naruto's shoulder, climbing over his head and Sakura's back to get onto Sasuke's shoulder. "Is it going to be a kitsune too?"

Sakura blinked, and before she knew it, snorted, hastily turning her face into Sasuke's chest to stifle the laughter that had taken on a gleeful touch. She could only venture a guess what string of thoughts made Ari say such a thing, but better not to follow that trail of thought. It was entirely childish, and her heaving laughter ventured into something uncontrollable, that had her shaking and holding her stomach. Ari snarled indignantly, thinking she was laughing at him while she did not even know what was so funny all of a sudden, and he hopped onto the counter once more because Sakura was shaking so badly now she broke apart their hug. Clasping one of the stools for support, she literally doubled with laughter.

"Sakura?", Ari asked, snout high in the air, gazing haughtily at her. "I don't think it's that funny."

"S-- sorry", she managed, her voice shaky, as she threw Naruto a glance out of tearful eyes. "That's the best news I -- I've heard in such a long time ..."
 
It is one thing to be willing to die for someone, to put your life on the line to save another's, because such a sacrifice lasts in only a single second of time, but, Sasuke thought, the warm realization spreading throughout his mind, standing here with the most important people in his life, feeling Sakura press her face into his chest, listening to her laughter fill the air, sharing this joyous moment, being here for this moment, it was a completely different thing to live for someone.

Sasuke's arm disentangled from Naruto's shoulders, but not before giving the blond a pat on the back in congratulations, and then, after giving Ari a quick, reassuring scratch behind the ears and an amused smile, he was reaching out to help steady Sakura, his hand rubbing her shoulder affectionately.

He thought he had known what love was, to have felt the hollowed, driving pain left in its absence, but now, after experiencing this, he had an inkling that he understood it better.

"Er, not exactly buddy," Naruto was telling Ari, giving the fox some attention to placate his ruffled fur by petting that fur. "I'm getting a human baby, which is like a cub, I suppose! Without the fur." He spared Sakura a quick look and smile, one that said it was completely all right, that he understood.

Sasuke squeezed her shoulder, before withdrawing to retrieve a few napkins from the counter. He offered them to her with a small smile that did not lack in warmth, and tilted his chin slightly, raised his brow, as if to ask if she was all right, or if she needed anything else.
 
"Oh, okay", Ari said, flipping his tail. "That's alright, I guess."

Teuchi was serving their ramen, and before he knew it, was gripping Naruto's hand in his own, big one, congratulating him with tears in his eyes, declaring their meal on the house, and Hinata's of course, too. He assured him to put an extra egg in as a treat.

Meanwhile, Sakura took the napkins from Sasuke, and in the same motion grabbed his sleeve as if to hold onto something as her laughter subsided, slowly, into a few hiccups. She rubbed the napkin over her eyes and straightened, wincing at the stab of pain it caused. She took a deep breath, tugging slightly on Sasuke's sleeve. "Can you believe it?", she asked with a smile on her face.

"Delicious!", Ari jabbed. He had snatched a piece of fried pork out of Naruto's bowl and was gobbling it down with the vigor of a fox having not eaten for ... well, two or so hours.

Letting go of Sasuke, after she seemed to have drifted towards him on an almost subconscious level, was a conscious decision; she slipped back onto her stool to start her meal, and engaged Naruto in a conversation (some would say lecture) of how important this and that was for the health of a pregnant woman, from vitamins to moderate exercise to no matter what, keep her feet warm.
 
Smiling and laughing, Naruto thanked Teuchi, before reassuring the old man that he would definitely get paid back a thousand-fold, since there would be another Uzumaki soon eating at this same counter.

Hardly, Sasuke thought in response to Sakura's question, wishing he had another hand to squeeze hers with. But he deserves it, this happiness, and I'm so happy for him.

Taking notice of the wince that sprawled across Sakura's face, Sasuke's brows drew together and his lips formed into a thin line, the concerned expression lasting for only a moment, before his features were softening. Settling down in the seat next to her, he thanked the server for his bowl of ramen, and offered the occasional teasing, smart-ass comment to add to the conversation. Naruto was listening intently to Sakura, alternating between rubbing the back of his head and scribbling something down in a book, because he had already been lectured once today on the same subject matter by Tsunade, but he already wanted to do everything he could for his unborn child, even if it included accursed studying.

As they finished up their meal, Naruto bid farewell to all of them, giving Sakura another hug, scratching Ari behind the ear, shaking Teuchi's and Ayame's hands, and giving Sasuke a fistbump, knowing that getting one hug willingly out of the Uchiha had been a miracle. And then proclaiming that he had some hands to--no wait, feet to warm (Sasuke huffed a chuckle at that, reminding him, "Waterproof ink") Naruto was walking down the street, throwing a conspiratorial look over his shoulder. Sasuke would have thrown something at him, if he didn't have other things on his mind.

Clearing his throat, he stole a look at Sakura, before focusing on arranging the dishes (of course Naruto left behind his mess) to make them easier to collect, as he suggested, "You should visit the onsen. For your back."
 
Sakura was whirling some left-over noodles in the broth of her bowl, then put the chopsticks aside and handed it to Sasuke. The smile she threw him was almost sheepish. She had not expected him to notice, but she must have given herself away sometime earlier. She wondered if it was because his eyes were resting on her so often nowadays, and felt an excited warmth spread in her chest at the thought.

"That's a good idea", she said instead of a denial, which would have been too obvious a lie. "I haven't thought of that. I might do, later today." She rubbed at the small of her back, absentmindedly, and knew she should tell Tsunade-shishou about it. It was a pain like pulling a muscle, dull for the most part and cutting sharp as a knife when she moved the wrong way. It hadn't stopped even when she applied the necessary chakra, but she did not have the energy to pull on her reserves, and that was probably why it didn't heal.

She stole a glance at him, then slid from her stool. Ari, who was sitting next to Sakura's half-eaten bowl, eying it with faint interest -- all the while his belly was protruding from having eaten a whole bowl of ramen and then some -- opened his muzzle wide in an unabashed yawn. "I haven't seen my parents yet", Sakura said, "I'll have to say hi to them, or they'll find me and make me sit through dad's lecture on being a good daughter." It was not even a lie, but an excuse nonetheless. She suddenly was afraid what would happen, with the first time they were almost alone since --

Since the morning he had carried her to bed.

She blushed. Ari said: "That sounds awful. My mother always makes me sit through her lectures, and they are terribly boring." He sounded sympathetic.

"Do you have a place to stay?", she asked. "I assume Ari will want to stay with you." Ari nodded, a funny gesture for a fox. Ayame, who was taking away their empty bowls, giggled.
 
Sasuke's eyes drifted to take in that small gesture, her palm pressing against that part of her back, and his brow furrowed slightly. A shard of frustration shot through him, because he knew there was little he could do to alleviate that pain; the extent of medical jutsu he knew was applying his fire style to cauterize bleeding wounds, and that was hardly soothing. Yet, he was bunking next to another healer for a while, and he pocketed that thought for later.

Slightly turning in his own stool, he watched as she stood and did not follow, allowing her to create as much distance between them as she wanted, ever aware of the boundaries she needed separating them. He could understand why, because it had been at the back of his mind as well, almost like a constant presence, seeping often into his conscious thoughts: that intimate moment spent in the rain, in the aftermath of a battle that could have claimed both of their lives.

"Kakashi," he simply explained, directed toward her inquiry about his planned lodgings. With a small smile, he added, "Say hello to your parents for me." Tilting his head in a gesture that told Ari to follow, he stood from his stool, intending for them to go their separate ways, even if there was something else he wanted to discuss with her, because she seemed to want space, but--Starting to walk toward the Hokage Tower, he realized they were heading in the same direction.

Well, he supposed now was as good as a time as any.

Turning his dark gaze onto her, dropping his voice to a quieter tone, as to not invite unwanted listeners, he softly offered, "It's okay not be okay about this whole ordeal with Satoru, Sakura. If you want to talk about it, or ever want to about anything--" He paused, feeling a slight smile tug as the edge of his lips, "--even vent about your parents' lecturing, I'm here."
 
The thought that Sasuke was crashing at Kakashi's place was as amusing as it was strange. Sakura figured that maybe he had meant Kakashi was providing him with lodgings of some form or other; perhaps even in that fancy new hotel everybody was talking about. But her reflections were cut short with the sudden worry of having been rude not to invite him to her parents for tea. The mere idea -- no, no, Sasuke would never sit with her exuberant father and crazy mother at one table. Him, being his solemn, restrained self, and them, fussing over him and making him eat left-over onigiri and blatantly inquiring about his matrimonial status and ... Kami.

She took a strangled breath, glad that the next intersection would likely take her into another direction, but his eyes were like two sharp dots boring into her. She had to turn her head towards him, if only to get rid of the feeling of being scrutinized. Their eyes met, and hers traveled to his lips to take in that smile. Then the joke registered, and beneath it, the kindness of his offer. When had Sasuke become so open, approachable?

It made everything so much harder, she thought, looking away as if she was curious to study the stands they were passing. Her heart did the unhealthy thing again, expanding in her chest and beating extraordinarily -- not fast, but heavy, as if it was a comfortable weight only he could make her aware of. And how did he know, the thoughts she kept mulling over in her head, about the anger and disappointment she felt? If she was that easy to read, maybe she should think about asking Kakashi where he bought his masks and if they were issued in pink.

Pink, the color her cheeks had turned into, high on the bones like fever spots.

"It's not okay", she whispered, despite herself and the instinct to fasten her step to turn the corner and get away from him. "Listen, I've been in the war. I've seen ... I've seen what those feelings have done to people." To you she didn't say, although it was an obvious truth between them. "I really don't want to feel the way I'm feeling, I'm just so ..." Angry. Angry enough to fantasize about punching Satoru's face in, and then yell at him until she was hoarse. She cleared her throat because they had reached the street corner, and only when she came to a stop and faced Sasuke again did she realize that Ari had passed out on his shoulder, snoring gently with his snout buried in Sasuke's neck. It was adorable, but she couldn't focus on it. A group of young women in civvies passed them and shot them curious glances. One giggled and turned to her friend to say something. Suddenly, Sakura thought about the impression they made -- a lover's quarrel, with the way she kept angry-whispering at him. She had seen her mother do this to her father often enough. "It's okay", she said, and while she went for a mollifying tone, it came out aggressive, "I'll get over it."
 
The very air between them was thick, palpable, as if laced with gasoline, dangerous--he could almost smell it. If one were to light a match, the immediate world would blur behind dancing flames of red and orange, blue and white intermingling at their source and the heat would be overwhelming, all-consuming. Sasuke stood silent for a moment, studying her with a soft, contemplative look, the remnant of his smile fading from his lips. With these emotions running high, he found his eyes trailing downward to take in that furious way her mouth moved--an inkling of a thought, more of a feeling, dripping through his mind about how much easier it would be to show her these things he wanted he to know--yet they lingered for only a heartbeat, before his gaze was snapping up to lock with hers.

Anger was something he knew well. She reached for it to hide the pain underneath, because it was better to be out-of-control than vulnerable, to hurt instead of be hurt.
These things he understood, and though he registered how odd it was for him to be on this side of things, he also considered how unique of a position he was in, because he had lived it. While she wasn't there, where he had drowned those years before, which felt like decades ago, and she had such a strong heart that he doubted she would ever fall like he did (wasn't that one of the reasons he felt this way about her?), it was the same trap to stumble into, the same mistake, the same thought processes that would only make this hurt of hers worse.

It's okay, she had declared. I'm okay.

He took a step forward, keeping his gaze on hers, trying to get her to hold eye contact, so she could see the steel behind his dark charcoals, as he somehow softly and sternly declared back, leaving little room for argument, "No, it's not." A pause, and that look in his eyes was becoming more gentle, his voice becoming softer. "I only made it worse, trying to deny what I was feeling. Everything pushed beneath the surface will eventually come overflowing back up, and that's how those feelings gain power and momentum. You're angry. Because you were betrayed. There was a level of trust you gave him--" He didn't know what that level of trust was, or what exactly had happened between the two during his absence, but it was evident that he had somehow gotten under her skin, and for that, Sasuke felt an ember of anger spark under his skin, "--and he misused it. That's his fault, not yours. And you have a right to be angry, to everything else you're feeling. It's not something you just get over."

He didn't glance away entirely; his gaze just stopped focusing on hers, and looking past her, he finished, "You don't have to talk to me. I understand if you would rather not. But you should talk to someone."
 

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