Found You

A/N: I guess like always I didn’t make myself very clear. Aha… What I mean by going back through the story and changing things, is just what I said. If I meant for there to be a clear reference to which person in the scene, I’ll probably use their name instead; fix typos, run-ons, so forth! I will NOT, repeat, NOT be changing anything of the actual plot, references, phrases, or feelings that have taken place. I love this story too much to let it be changed that much, and all of you seem to as well.

Thanks for the popular reviews protecting the messiness of this fic!

Many of you probably don’t read my other WiP, The Stage’s Avenger, so I should probably enlighten you as to how flashbacks work.

I was going to update scene changes with italics rather than ~*~, but unless I’ve misread Meggi’s review, it’s probably easier to do it this way, as much as I don’t like an obvious scene change, and you can read that it’s coming.

Many of you that keep up with the manga have no doubt gotten excited about Kakashi’s… training methods. And while that means he could have easily gone through the same process of uncovering and explaining things with Sasuke… isn’t sex just more fun? The series of Naruto is still, at heart, a series meant to be enjoyed by children as well as adults. This means that while tantric exploitation and manipulation is perfectly suited for a chakra-intense magic-system, they can’t resort to that as any kind of method for the series.

Poor Kishimoto-sensei.

SORRY about the long wait. And I’m sorry I couldn’t fit any lemon in to this chapter. I’m afraid that my recent taking of jobbage completely sapped me of ambition to work on this. But now that the anime is resuming with the actual storyline, I might be struck with inspiration all over again!

LEAVE REVIEWS of if you want the chuunin exam fight of Gaara v Sasuke covered! I don’t wanna have to repeat parts of the series if people already know them well enough! If I can get away with only capping the emotional aspects of this arc, I can easily move on to the actual fucking between these two stuck-up shits.


Gaki = kid, or brat. When applied to girls, it can mean bitch.

Lemon: No.
Spoilers: Sort’ve. For English anime-goers, yes, because this moves on in to the third season, which 4kids hasn’t even bought yet. Losers.
Pairings: Naruto/Sasuke ai, Gaara/Sasuke ai. And, of course, Gai will ALWAYS love Kakashi. *Sparkle~!*

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or his unique spiral of Uchiha-central angst. …Wait. I totally own that.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Fifteen: Eve of Battle

That bastard had probably learned a bazillion new jutsu by now. And while it mildly soothed him that the Copy Ninja, Kakashi, knew only a thousand by the rough estimate of their enemies, he could still believe Sasuke could learn a bazillion new jutsu in only a month.

Top of their graduating class, and top in their grade ever since his induction to the academy, that was Uchiha Sasuke.

The enigmatic, brilliant bane of his existence. The snotty, snooty, genius fuckmonkey heir of some great, dead clan. How could they be so great if they were dead huh?!

Part of the enigma.

To say he had given that some thought over the years was an understatement. In truth… he lived and breathed that egomaniacal bastard’s reputation. It was the only reason he was here, now.

Had gotten this far for this long.

Had summoned…

…a tadpole.

And another…

…And a whole fleet of them that had taken to living in a nearby pond thanks to his clumsy cup of hands always scooping them to the water’s safety. He just couldn’t bring himself to leave them there flopping on the rocks because he wasn’t…

…wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t the best. It wasn’t fair to punish them for his incompetence.

Arms rested on the bend of his knees as he watched the latest spiral-backed member of the great frog family skitter about.

Because he wasn’t the best, all he got was some amazing pervert that spent all their training time watching girls. –By all means, Naruto should have joined him at least once. And… it kind of bugged him that he couldn’t bring himself to indulge in the ways of his earlier days about sneaking in to erotic parlors to fondle smooth pages of voluptuous goodness. His mind was completely focused on this singular task.

He needed to get better than Sasuke. That bastard was depending on him. At one point, for the longest time, the Uchiha wouldn’t give him the time of day, and being ignored had infuriated (infatuated? Did he even know that word?) him more than anything.

Now, that guy wanted to fight him. By any means, he wasn’t going to disappoint.

Hours passed, and even the sun was getting tired of watching failure after failure, taking off for other skies. With no one watching, he could let himself drop in to the shallow waters, cool rush seeping through horribly orange pants as he gasped and grunted and grudged and gurgled vulgarities through grit teeth under matted dandelion hair.

It wasn’t fair.

That guy always had it so easy! Sasuke never had to work for anything!

No…

It wasn’t like that at all. Tension bled away from his face as the bottom fell out of azure eyes, blandly watching as wet crests lapped at his legs and tumbled past him downstream.

Sasuke was better than him, yeah. At everything. Ever since they had been little, there had been this burr in his chest that itched in his lungs every time he watched every girl’s Number One Rookie show off.

Rarely had he ever seen the other boy take extra hours for his training unless he needed a reason to duck Sakura or the rest of the fanclub, unlike the hours that Naruto got up extra early for every morning and stayed long after sunset in the training fields. Years ago, the Uchiha had mastered the simple art of not stabbing himself on his own shuriken.

Just his existence was a desperate exhibition of how unlike Naruto he was.

And still… he wanted to think… they were alike somehow. And dammit, he would make the other boy acknowledge that, if he had to beat it through that duck-butt hair!

That’s right, he said it!

…Thought it.

Duck butt!

“Oi! Gaki! It’s time to go!” Nostrils flared as the Sannin fisted his hips, geta clacking down the river’s creek with spiny white tail flicking broodishly behind him.

That old man must be in a bad mood, now that the girls had left for the day. Thoughts scattered when Naruto shoved his fists in to the stream, pulling water to his face and scrubbing them out from the back of his skull.

It was when they were back at the inn, a few towns over from his precious village and a place he had never ever heard of, that they exchanged thoughts of the day.

Because it was the only time Naruto could ever stop him long enough between a shower and his skipping to the red light district to have any decent conversation like a sensei and pupil.

“You’re a real loser, you know that right?”

“Shutthehellup!” Arms folded and he wheeled about on the floor to jut his lip at the window.

That was typically the extent of their scholarly exchange.

The door shut behind coarse laughter, muffled all down the hallway. It wasn’t until long after Naruto was sharing his company with silence that he dropped his totally unbreakable expression and let the fatigue sink in. Shoulders fell with a harsh sigh, staring out the window to the shabby skyline frayed with the tops of hodge-podge buildings losing its tangerine flush and putting on its twilight dress.

Old pervert could probably get Lady Sky naked in two shakes.

It had been so long since he had seen Sasuke. Or Sakura, even. Man, he missed the smell of her shampoo…

And he missed being able to tease that bastard about his primping, asking where the head of his bad-ass haircut went. Or devising new, hair-brained tricks to see inside the insightful folds of Icha Icha.

Betwixed with a new sense of loneliness, he heaved another sigh.

“…I really am a loser.” That made him grin, whiskers stinging under the crinkle of solemn eyes.

His bouts of depression were brief. Frequent, but brief. Perhaps frequent enough to provoke the bizarre question from the old man clacking along beside him a few days later.

“Naruto… Do you have a favorite meal?”

Oh, gawd… If the lecher was asking him to dinner… And the day had been going so well with his new training starting in the bath house!

…Well, so long as he was buying… It was hard to stay depressed!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So. It looks like your limit is two shots.” His silvery blue eye turned away from the smoking crater in the face of the rock and settled on the youth recovering with loud heaves beside him. “That’s not too bad. I can only do four in a day, myself.”

He didn’t say out loud that he had been at the same point when the jutsu had first been crafted. That Sasuke’s room for growth was far beyond his own. Not out of jealousy, but out of concern.

If the Uchiha started getting confident in how good he was and could be, it was going to be his Top Rookie’s genin exam all over again.

His chest was still buzzing and his nerves were shot, not unlike when a limb went to sleep. His entire left arm felt like that already, trembling and rested against his side with the only grip he had left. It wasn’t unlike being tickled by the feathers of startled birds.

Just… from the inside, out.

“How can you tell…?”

Kakashi said nothing to the burning glimmer in his student’s eyes, not taking in their direction to know his target. The jounin knew what it was like to be confronted with the solid wall of one’s limitations, the childish and bitter hatred for oneself, and have nothing left to climb over it. Nothing left to keep eyes sanguine, barely anything to breathe and stay upright.

“It’s dangerous to work with a jutsu like this, Sasuke. You should understand that.”

Satin lashes narrowed, telling him that while the boy did, he didn’t like it. Wouldn’t dare say it out loud, much less confirm it in his own head.

Sometimes he and that dead-last were too much alike.

Busying his sight with the smoldering bowl of damage in the rock face, the jounin shoved his fist in a pocket and explained with a careful drawl of concern. “Chidori deals with intense variables. Changing your chakra’s form, and shape. That’s easy when it’s with someone like you, who’s already familiar with making Katon.”

Someone like Naruto, who didn’t have a single element in his inventory however… He was going to be impressed if Jiraiya could teach that boy how to use his chakra right. Forget well.

“But changing the will of your chakra is easy when you don’t have to maintain it. You’re having to do this consciously, and use a great deal of it in conjunction with your Sharingan. That kind of drains your stamina to nothing, I imagine.”

Pretending to talk like he did not know from experience earned a click of tongue from nearby. As of yet, Sasuke still did not have enough nerve to sit down, his knees still locked.

“I have a month to teach you how to kill someone in one move.”

The impact of his words visibly shook his student, black hair stirring to expose the rapt sheen in coal eyes.

He wasn’t thrilled to see such a thing, heavy lid growing heavier. “That Sand kid’s defense is going to be tough to get through with your bare hands.”

That’s right…

…This was all for the exam. Dark eyes lost some of their attention as he reflected. Considered that Kakashi was teaching this to him in good faith.

In the faith that he would do the right thing.

A guy his own age was willing to kill his fellow shinobi, and wouldn’t hesitate with him, either.

”Don’t forget.”

For a long instant, he thought the redhead was talking about his past. Something that the worn-in sandals had stirred up in the inky depths of his eyes with the brief contact of seafoam disks.

It was obvious to him, that this guy had kills under his sash. The only eyes he could never read were the ones of those that had killed people they felt anything for.

Kakashi had it… And right then, he wanted to vomit at the knowledge that Itachi had owned it at one time as well.

”You are my… prey.”

Gaara of the Desert was hunting him. And what mattered most was how he was going to respond to that.

To run like a startled rabbit until he fell in to the snare…

…Or lunge at him head-on.

Trembling shoulders fell, taking in the scope of what he had done. To transfer the guage of damage from rock… to flesh…

“Remember, your limit is two shots.”

“And if I try for a third…?”

Ice grazed his cheek with the glare that sideswiped him. “The third shot won’t happen. If you don’t have the chakra, and force the jutsu, the jutsu will fail. Your stamina will be completely depleted.”

No ifs. Ands. Or buts.

“…Even if you do survive, it won’t bode well for you.” His jaw tensed, holding back the intent of his voice. “…Especially for you.”

The Avenger knotted about his coils nervously. “Because of the Curse Seal..?”

Kakashi didn’t have the heart to deny it and abate his student’s imploring glare, soothe him with some expected lazy remark. So he shut his heart away, lowering the book from his nose.

“The Curse Seal isn’t something you should come to rely on, Sasuke. While it might provide the energy you need in order to get a third try, that power isn’t free.”

As if Uchiha Sasuke, the little brother and lone survivor of a mass murderer and his rampage, needed to be told that everything had consequences. He shifted to impose the point by squaring his shoulders.

The jounin wasn’t impressed, continuing in that focused drawl that said he had been woken from an important nap to voice something even more important. “If you come to rely on that Curse Seal, there’s nothing more I can teach you. Your training will cease – and you’ll become an outcast of Konoha. Depending on that to make you strong will ruin you, and your capacity to grow will be snuffed out.”

For the third time that month, he had gotten too involved in his own affairs. Showed he cared too much.

And for the third time that month he had Sasuke’s complete, affected, unguiled attention.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tomorrow…

…Today.

The metamorphosis of ‘tomorrow’ in to ‘today’ meant little to him, without the little bodies below going in for hours at a time and emerging again when the sun came up. He needed no such understanding of time, when it was to sleep, because sleep would never come to him.

Not free. Sleep would come to him at the expense of all of these people.

A worthy exchange.

Arms folded tighter against the raise of his knee, crimson hair stirring in the humid breeze that kept a sleepy hold of this village. Such a sleepy town, considering he was here.

Here a whole month and these people lived their lives without a care. Not knowing what was in store for them tomorrow.

Even he had not known until their departure for the chuunin exams. There were detached suspicions of the man that had given their order. It was not like their father to deem him useful; more, the man was simply too afraid to attempt killing him again.

Did he expect the three of them to fail, and be rid of his burdensome children in one fell swoop at the hands of their would-be allies…?

Or… was someone playing them all? Such thoughts dwindled to remind himself of his father, the stern face that wrinkled his own features, features like his mother, and invariably like her brother.

There were a great number of reasons he could not sleep. Fear of the beast. Of himself. Of confronting the dead faces that were burned on to the blacks of his eyelids so that, when he closed them, there were still vivid imprints of things. Things like the dying face of a man that looked so much like himself and filled with so much pity, weakness, hatred, and despair. Most things he had never been able to duplicate in the dull reflection of a window.

…Yashamaru.

Sitting back in that sandy little apartment with blisters of glass to look out on the expansive nothing both a part of him and wanting nothing to do with him, his forlorn teddy bear was waiting on the bed he never slept in, next to a photo he never looked at.

Gaara hugged his knee tighter to brave the wet exhale of all the foliage around this town and seafoam eyes were narrow against the luminosity of a bulbous and heavy moon that sloshed its weight in to the shy and would have an even harder time ‘tomorrow’…

Tomorrow was going to be a full moon.

Tomorrow, he could fight the Uchiha, and lay waste to these people that did not know they should be afraid of him. Spawned idiot children like that bowl-haired kid, and the loudmouth blond that had confronted him with frozen feet and spine in the hospital room of such.

‘Tch. I’ve got a monster, too.’

Said so brazenly when he gained his nerves, as if…

…He had lived his whole life with that fact.

Maybe this village and his own were not so different, turning infants in to weapons at the cost of their mothers.

Why then, did that one still seem to have his wits. Dull, distant, and clad in orange.

But that boy had slept almost three days straight.

And how many hours had Gaara wasted away on the roof of the hospital, watching the bandaged, battered, broken form of some taijutsu wannabe recover.

Gaara of the Desert had taken a bit of relish in making that boy pay for panicking him. Tenfold he was bitter with how that ninja-dud inched closer to his old self, one push-up at a time.

He was strong.

Just like that excuse of a jounin his student impersonated said he would be. And every day that freak would come by, give some speech of which Gaara completely understood by all of the posing and the squats and the FLASHES through the gossamer curtains, and eye him.

Eye him from under those thick, ugly eyebrows and that slick, flat hair, through the thick of perfectly parted lashes around those beady black eyes EYEING HIM.

….And thrust out his arm with the jut of his thumb, as if to say Gaara had lost anyway.

Gaara of the Desert never lost.

If his prey survived it was because he willed it. And to foul his gourd with the stink of that failure’s blood would do nothing for him.

Now, now he craved a greater quarry, and for nearly two weeks he had marinated his tongue in the idea of tasting it. The allusion of fresh, ruby life hot on his skin was something he would banish his armor for the chance to try.

Tomorrow, he was going to bathe in the blood of one of the last of a great clan, and there was nothing anyone in this town could do about it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Apprehension had been building. The unwelcome sensation kept him from sleeping in the old wooden house, in the upper floor of the curry shop. Hours must have ticked by to the pace of Kakashi’s quiet snoring beside him. Pretending to be asleep and leave the Uchiha to his own thoughts.

His arm lifted to cradle the back of his own head. Black eyes rested intent on the ceiling and an attic fixture, knob dangling lifelessly in the musty night. When he couldn’t stand the way his back fussed any longer, he rolled and shifted his presence on the futon. Beside him the body didn’t tense or flare with the knowing of his closeness, or simply did not deem it something to respond to.

Even if Kakashi really was asleep, the man stirred in the senses at the gentle voice laced with restlessness. “…I could die tomorrow.”

Hazy and unfocused, a shred of the pale blue eye he kept drifted out to meet the ebon pair fixated on him.

“…You could.”

Some pep talk. This guy wasn’t helping. With a tiny growl the boy spun and sent his back to the masked man. Their quarters were not quite as close as him sleeping in the cramped apartment in that worn-out bed that was unused to company. Here, at this old lady’s place, there was enough room to keep his back cold and a muffled breath far away from his neck.

Such an idea did not comfort him. Not when the abandonment crept in to his ribs and stuck to them more than his own meat at the insensitive tone that emerged behind him.

“You’re the type that’d kill himself rather than give up. It’s not flattering.”

Sasuke had never cared about what was flattering. So why did hearing that sting so much? The crest of his hair glittered in ripe and abundant moonlight rolling down the starry sky to prepare for dawn soon.

Watching his pupil be so… He… Kakashi had not seen this kind of fitful air in years. Not since the days they were using children on the battlefields of real wars.

Not since he’d seen crybabies of noble clans blanching in the heat of battle and his own days of needing rescuing by his teacher.

Though hair was black and robe was white, his sleepy eye had no trouble picturing himself in the same position. But it wasn’t the same.

Deep down, Sasuke had no desire to kill anyone. No one except certain blood-related persons, and Kakashi doubted even that. Silver brows folded in worry, and in ache at his pounding skull and the memories inciting life in his scar.

How badly could a boy want to kill someone they still called for in their sleep.

“…You haven’t touched me since then.”

He took the defensive, cheek burrowing in to his own folded arm in much the same way his own student did in front of him. “You haven’t needed it.”

It was true, the nightmares weren’t as intense, ever since his birthday rolled around. He had been too consumed with learning and exhausting himself that, at the end of the day, there was nothing left of him for that snake’s impression to reach because he was so far gone in sleep. In a small way, he was thankful for that.

In another, larger way, he was crushed. And in a much larger, significant way, he was angry at the confusion that such a thing existed within him. Had he… really expected…?

…Hoped…?

His teacher’s voice broke the thoughts, knowing full well he should before they wove together too tightly. He was gruff with the thick of sleep, and quiet in their motionless atmosphere.

“I can’t coddle you, if that’s what you need, Sasuke.”

Was that it? What he needed…?

He watched as the small hand fisted in the source of black hair at the base of his skull. Worry crept in to him at the duration of his whitened fist there, thinking back on how one of the boy’s fingers was cut open nearly through the tendon in their close combat exercises.

The jounin had not quite expected his student to be so… stupid as to stop a kunai with his bare hand, all because he had run out of shuriken.

True, while the Sharingan could lock on to motion, it did not make its bearer invulnerable to the principle that steel was stronger than flesh.

He could still smell the blood that had not yet washed out of his mask.

It was another long silence where he did not know how much time had passed. He only knew that the other sat up, yukata hanging on him in wrinkles from the tossing to find sleep.

Fascination twinkled under the dullness of his icy eye watching the pale body nearby. Observing the forlorn expression in his tender face and not quite knowing if he missed the blissful visitor of sleep, or had drawn an unwelcome and inescapable conclusion.

It didn’t matter really. Sasuke was in the motion to stand when the man’s arm on his side reached out to take the wrist still grounded to their futon.

And missed. Dozing must have made him sluggish, or the Uchiha had hurried his motions just enough to be missed.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch him. No, that wasn’t it at all…

“It’s not proper, Sasuke. You know that.”

Maybe the younger found his strength in not facing him. Hands in his lap muddled their fingers together. “So do you. That didn’t stop you.”

Dammit. He really hated how quickly things could grow childish. Hostile and haughty and dangerous when the boy was spurned. Sasuke always retorted so… so…

…Ugh. He was too tired to find the word for it. Before he could come up with much of a defense, his student took the offensive. He’d already taken offense by the sound of it. The angrier he was, the quieter he got.

“It’s easier on you when it’s like that, isn’t it.” He was very quiet at the moment. As much as that should have been a question h left no room to reply. “When you follow the rules.”

It didn’t matter how much hearing that hurt. For a long moment Kakashi was left laying there like he had been mortally gashed. Reigning in the heat in his own words wasn’t possible until after the fact.

“Picking a fight won’t get you any, either.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch him. It wasn’t like that at all…

Sleep had been just as difficult and exhausting for him lately as his Top Rookie, between their training and the vivid, leftover images that plagued him at nightfall.

With his scarred lid shut he could plainly see the still frame of orgasm that had startled the hell out of both of them.

It had been years since he had seen true Sharingan, and to cross them in such a… state…

Frankly, it still made him warm to think about.

More frankly, he couldn’t look at them in training without getting a bad case of shivers. To think, out in the middle of the desert heat he could get splashed cold with the smallest flick of red.

The space between them at night, stuffed together in the sleeping bag that was uncomfortable when they were purposely avoiding each other, did little to banish everything his body still remembered.

Sasuke wasn’t the only one in pain here. But Kakashi had to feel guilty that his own discomfort was much more physical. Much… closer right now than even his student was right then. Nails itched at the futon, wishing theirs weren’t so close that he could now not scratch at the tatami underneath.

Uchiha were the only breed of people that could make him nervous enough to want to scratch tatami.

There was nothing to be said when the youth took his equipment pouch in the full of his bandaged hand and waddled his way with stiff, aching ankles for the door.

…Sigh.

At least he would have some privacy tonight.

For some reason, that wasn’t comforting. He couldn’t help but feel… anxious.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hours had gone by with only the light thumps of feet on the thick outcroppings of branches that wound their invisible road back home.

Kakashi was having trouble keeping their pace, because for a child that acted like he had no roots left in their town, he was in a hurry to get back to it.

Or maybe they were just in a hurry for hitting the road kind of… late.

Dawn hadn’t even rolled around when there was a foot nudging his ribs, and for the life of him, the jounin wasn’t a morning person. He had sunken back in to the covers, only to hear a growl. And for a few moments more he faked sleep to give the boy a drowsy look from the edge of the covers.

He probably shouldn’t be making a joke of one of the big days in a young shinobi’s life…

But that vulgar little pout Sasuke had given him was totally worth it.

Ever since, he had only seen a smaller back and the clan symbol on a filthy blue shirt.

Realization struck him. He jumped, a heavier step that vaulted him across the small gap that separated them. Sasuke had not been expecting to be jumped from behind, his grunt of surprise not uncalled for when he took the brunt of their weight in to the stalk of their next perch.

The Uchiha was about to curse at him when a glove clamped over his mouth and a masked nose brushed his ear with a commanding hiss for silence. Kakashi kept his front mashed against the bark, difficult with the boy panting furiously and unable to recover his breathing from their journey’s haste.

Silver lashes clouded over a dull blue eye when hips jerked in to him, folding shut at the second jostling. Faded treads of his sandals kept his footing when he returned the fuss with a shove.

Frustrated breathing tapered off to bothered dizziness. Waiting in relative silence with the stuffiness of so much body heat against him, and the full weight of his backpack on the jounin’s shoulders bearing down on overheated shoulders.

Waiting until the birds hitched in their chatter. In their hurry to get back to the village, the last thing on Sasuke’s mind was being discovered by their own people. It was not as if they were in any sort of trouble.

They were, however, on a very tight schedule. One that demanded they should have been at the stadium almost an hour ago.

Here they were, just short of the city walls, and they were having to sneak back in to their own village.

Teeth ground in to the flesh of his cheek with a heavy puff in to his mask when the constricted body wriggled again, now with the discomfort of more than just the bulk of mass and gear. He felt another pair of teeth, but these were in the heel of his glove, and he caught the flash of an onyx glare through matted hair.

Now was not quite the time to apologize. Not right now, when a squad of silver, black, and clay darted across the brush yards below their own feet.

It was no wonder his Top Rookie hadn’t felt them coming. He wasn’t exerting his chakra, wasn’t giving away any signs he was there, not even to predict the arrival of others.

He was going to need every shred of energy he had, if he gauged the opposition right.

Not wasting any time, Sasuke struggled and clawed at the bark against his chest when his ears failed to follow them anymore.

A darkened eye fixed on the clamp of sinuous jaw in the protected meat of his palm.

Kinky.

“Your match doesn’t technically start until ten minutes ago,” he drawled, making a gentle tug of his hand.

No success. No surprise. So he gave a dopey wink and happily explained.

“…But your exam already started. It might count against you if you get caught, right?”

That seemed to satisfy him, because the tension on his palm eased so he could pull away. Proud shoulders struggling to stand out in the husk of his shirt composed in their new distance.

“…Doesn’t that count as cheating?”

Hands idled in his pockets, easing the evident but unseeable protrusion there. “You’re going to turn down the help? They’re not the only ones, and two people, even in henge, walking the streets will look suspicious. It probably wouldn’t make a good impression, showing up like you haven’t changed your clothes in a month, either.”

“I’m already late because of you,” he quipped without a look over his shoulder, jumping for the next branch to continue.

“You didn’t have to wait for me…” Like it was always his fault. Jeez.

Focusing on the branches ahead, his only response was a lack of one.

Sigh.

What a brat.

“I need to dress your arm, Sasuke. It looks horrible.”

It really did, and even he knew it. His shoulder was almost black with the condensed knot of infected tenketsu that the Curse was weaving itself in to with still adjusting to the output of chakra. They looked like veins, but it was not a healthy sign to see the tangled web of highway under his skin, pock-marked with tiny blisters.

More and more, Sasuke was shedding his immaculate, pristine veneer of being everyone’s untouchable, undefeatable, unordinary Top Rookie.

Under better circumstances, Kakashi would have been happy for him.

Right now, he was scrambling for every single excuse he could grab hold of.

And not the half-assed kind.

He would not say that ANBU was probably not looking for them first, and foremost.

Or that suspicious meant everyone was at the stadium. Conveniently in one place, in case anyone wanted to make a move during the main event.

For just a little while, he wanted to give everyone the time to expect them.

Orochimaru wasn’t going to just disappear. And if he didn’t simply kill someone with the capacity to be dangerous, like Sasuke, it just meant…

There was some fate, some plan, worse than death. One that, without something like a Curse Seal, the likes of an Uchiha would never agree to.

Konoha was still in one piece. Alert, but intact.

”The nail that sticks out gets hammered back down.”

…His entire purpose up to this point, had been to deliver the last nail in to the coffin.