Found You

A/N: I apologize for the… ghastly delay… I won’t make excuses. I’ll only say that over a year of filler, limited appearance of Sasuke in the manga – and an exhausting work schedule have made me miss this fic horribly.



I owe you.



Much of the delay, in the beginning, was from deciding how to portray Sasuke v Gaara. In the end, I have decided to only start it – because the end of it lies very clear.



And I’d rather just get to the fucking.



Speaking of hot steamy Sasuke!Sluts, some of you may have read the NaruSasu OS I had put up a great, long time ago. Which may make it obvious to some, and I’ll verify it here:



I do intend to warp the relationship towards NaruSasu. Be it, not in this fic.



Found You is for Kakashi x Sasuke. But expect some ego-posturing shounen-ai.



Sannin – three ninja

Densetsu no Sannin – legendary three ninja

Sennin – hermit

Sennen – 1000



Now that that’s cleared up, I hope other fanfics take it to heart. If I see one more ‘Gondaime’ or ‘Legendary Sennin’ – I’ll write a deathfic. Just for them.



Pairings: Kakashi x Sasuke. LIME. My first lime.

Spoilers: Sort’ve. Plot-Character death.

Timeline: Third exam. Naruto v Neji – Sandaime’s Funeral



Disclaimer: I do not own Sasuke’s cumrag. –Er, body tape.



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

Chapter Sixteen: Monsters Tread Here; Solemnity



Onyx lashes clamped from the tug of gauze and pressure around his shoulder. The evident pain was ignored when more layers gradually spun their way down a thinly sculpted bicep, and the further the constriction got from his mark, the easier Sasuke could summon his breath. It wasn’t just the Curse. It was the supporting constriction around pores blistered by chakra, tiny bruises and frayed skin only the surface of his pain.



The nauseating smell of his own flesh being ignited so many times in such short days was still abundant in his nostrils. He could still feel his hairlessness, because if the fine little hairs were still there on his arm he was sure they would be in a perpetual state of on-end.



There had barely been enough wit between the both of them when they had gotten back to Konoha for the jounin to adequately catch him. As soon as they had gotten past the back fields of the old manor, officially returned to the village, his Top Rookie had buckled.



It was not unlike Anko’s fit that had first alerted them to this whole ordeal.



His worry redoubled.



“Don’t waste any time,” he chided gently, perking up with the smiling close of his eye.



He heard the snort of, “I’m already wasting time.” Features scrunched in a smarting tug of bandage around battered knuckles.



“Yare yare. Almost done…” The webs of fingers exposed themselves, and he wove his way between them. “…There.” A pat that earned him a contained jolt. “All done.”



Smiling like he was, he couldn’t see the Uchiha’s study of the wrapping. It would have to do. But…



It looked like he had been attached to a stranger’s arm, now. He’d never seen so much wrapping except for when Kakashi would be the one applying it. Nearby were half a dozen empty boxes of medical waste.



This guy was damn lucky the Uchiha felt the need to carry so much in his house. One could never know when that idiot was going to get carried away, and Sasuke didn’t enjoy the feel of scratches and scabs brushing his sheets; much less did he enjoy cleaning them because of it.



They were both thinking the same thing, from the lazy gleam in a pale blue eye greeting his own glare. Sasuke wasn’t amused.



But he didn’t quite have the time right this instant to bother with being amused or reprimanding the older nin. He had to pull his shirt off quickly, the faded blue shirt turned white and inside out not reaching the floor before his own shorts.



A silver brow lifted when one strengthened leg stepped in to the black, and then he pulled it over his head. It wasn’t unlike squeezing a toddler in to a festival costume, which… was fitting.



And this thing fit. Nicely, if the drag of a zipper along a lean torso was anything to stand by.



Maybe always having the Uchiha around was a bad thing, because the brief flash of muscles and him stepping in to clean shorts was enough for the jounin to compare to the scraggly and impudent youth that had happened upon his doorstep some time ago.



He didn’t quite know which bundle of aggression and sinew he liked more.



“Should I… leave?” he asked dumbly. His heavy lid kept his gaze from rolling up to the face peeking through starched collar.



Sasuke bent to snap the end of his coverall in to place with a dismissive, “I’m already done.” Except for the straps that had been rolled up in it when he had found the outfit in an old box a long time ago.



Typically, he only used it when he went climbing, because of the straps that came with it great for harnesses. He’d seen his brother wear something like this, for things like that. Wrapped digits curled around them, calculating.



And then, he sat down, taking a leather end in his teeth and binding one of them about his arm. The other two about the tape on his legs, hiding swelling and bruises of more chakra exertion. All the while Kakashi said nothing, nor did he give an appraising hum. Maybe that was because he was shuffling to the door and taking in the courtyard of his lonesome estate.



The steady clack of bamboo on stone sounded again. Something constant and sharp to give him a sign of how long they had been here. It soothed him and took some of the edge off his efforts to keep alert.



This place was gorgeous, vast. One of the first homes in Konoha. The original headquarters of the police force when this town was still just a collection of streets and carts and quick houses of hastily chopped wood and tin roofs.



It wasn’t long before the Uchiha was at his side, fastening his hitai-ate with the loud zip of fabric snagging bits of overgrown sapphire.



He didn’t care. He had bigger things on his mind. More urgent matters at hand.



Like confronting a mad-boy that wanted him dead.



Not just dead, wanted him murdered. Someone that wanted to see an Uchiha’s red smeared across the walls.



Sasuke was confident, though. The likes of Sabaku no Gaara were just…



…a measure of his capacity. Dying here would just mean…



Kakashi didn’t need to ask who the heavyset glare was meant for, or if the boy was ready. The only signal he gave was a proposal of his gloved hand in a seal, and without looking at him, his student copied.



The steady, consoling, eternal clack of the bamboo fountain was interrupted by a gash of wind and the scatter of leaves gone uncollected in the last month.



~*~*~*~*~*~



Just when all hope was about to be lost, a single leaf fluttered past large blue eyes.



And then the scream of wind and the torrent of its scattered brethren.



Oh man! Knuckles pronounced in his fist were the closest thing to the epicenter of chakra that washed over him and froze blood to his bones and the whiskers in to his cheeks.



But he dare not look away.



He’d been waiting an entire month – sweating and cursing and putting up with a pervert for an entire month.



Had defeated the most undefeatable guy!!



And… Sasuke wouldn’t even look at him. For a dumb moment the blond only watched him, comparing it to many other snapshots of the other’s expression in some hope of lining it up.



No success.



Gemna was the first among them to speak, twisting the wood about in his teeth. Like he was going to be impressed starting now.



“Name..?”



That snapped the other boy out of his daze, ebon pair shifting through the abundant curtain of blue-black that had crept down past his chin and could barely stay afloat over the knot of his headband..



“Uchiha… Sasuke.” Someone had heard that name. He could feel death’s gaze raising hairs on the back of his neck.



Naruto didn’t wonder why there was so much more butt on his head. His training had to be so totally AWESOME that he didn’t have time to priss and preen! After all, look! He was already majorly late!



And… maybe he was taller. JUST MAYBE. It was a trick of the eyes, cause he was just so damn happy to see him!



“You bastard,” he choked, grinning despite himself. “Trying to make an entrance.”



Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck. Behind him, the Uchiha only ticked a smirk in the idiot’s direction. “Ah, I know we made a big entrance and all, but… Could Sasuke have been… disqualified?”



The examiner snorted, pocketing his watch. “He must have picked up your nasty habits. Don’t worry. Hokage-sama pushed his fight to last. Everyone’s been looking forward to it.”



“Ahahaaaa~. That’s good!”



Sasuke didn’t see what was so good about it. He could devote only part of one ear to the senior conversation. Naruto had taken to occupying the rest of it, and invading on that one portion as well with all of his cheering and goading.



It had never occurred to the youth that he had… missed these little annoyances. An awful affront to his senses and he was… thankful for it.



It was a very simple, very quiet question. The pain in his shoulder was limiting his voice. “It’s kind of pointless if you didn’t. But, your fight…”



A cheshire grin plastered across tan cheeks, his dirty fist shooting out boisterously. “Yer damn right!”



That… was a relief. He didn’t know quite why. “…Hn.” Maybe because after someone like Gaara, he didn’t want to have to fight a Hyuuga. Their own classmate, Hinata, was pathetic.



But her brother or whoever that asshole was…



“Now, if we could clear the arena of everyone except the fighters…” Genma eyed the blond, and the lazy guy that had just finished his own round. Hopefully, with this fight, they wouldn’t walk out with just one new chuunin.



For one reason or another, he was expecting this to get messy. All morning it had been rather exuberant matches. Now they were sending in an Uchiha, and a third member of the Sand.



“I’m looking forward to your Uchiha testing the limits of our Gaara,” the Kazekage crooned, beady eyes fixed on the specs in the arena. “It was worth the wait.”



“It’s not like you to speak so much, Kazekage-dono.” Sarutobi worried. Not inherently because the man was looking forward to it, but because…



This man did not typically mention his youngest son in any context. Much less with esteem.



“Gaara? Hey—Gaar—UMPH!” Kankuro cursed in to his sister’s palm. His affronted noises died when she leaned in earnest to his ear.



“I wouldn’t try talking to Gaara right now. He’ll just kill you.”



Neither of them were in a doubt of that. Nervous eyes followed the back of their brother, ears burning at the restless churn of sand that had already consumed him.



The gourd was itching.



So many and so indistinct the rhythm of grains that cooed their thirst in to the vulnerable channels of his ears already drowned in his own excited blood rushing past. His skin tingled with the crawl, the anticipation, and the incessant burn like so many ants pinching in to his flesh. Enough to… drive a person crazy.



Each breath carried the tiniest glee, nails hissing the metal of the stairs’ railing and muscles twitching in the clap of his soles on the cement.



This place was almost as sanitary as that dreadful hospital. To think, a place where people go to be miserable and to perish, and not once had he seen the messy operating rooms and emergencies in the hallways as he had in his own country.



These people were gluttons of the pristine, and amongst all of them he had found one beautiful stain, hiding itself so well in plain sight.



Maybe, just maybe, he would inscribe his ‘love’ on this sullied soul. …Just before he devoured it.



Anticipating visions left his eyes foggy, his ears burning, his skin screaming, and his insides welding together. When two shadows shifted in the hallway beyond, it took the ruby haired shinobi a moment to recognize their physical distortion. To recognize they even existed.



“You know,” one of them crooned, hand in his pocket to gesture at something. Something bulbous, and maybe sharp.



…Maybe.



His other hand was a distraction waving about in the air. Gaara stood there, unable to bring control to his limbs and perhaps rid that distraction, his mind too far ahead to the field waiting for him beyond these two.



“We got lords with a lot of money riding on this fight, and you see…”



No… Gaara didn’t see… He didn’t hear.



He didn’t care.



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



S…shimatta… His ass thudding the step was a pain easily forgotten in the light of things.



The stink of blood had never been something pungent enough to ever make him want to vomit.



Shikamaru, beside him, was in the same predicament. They weren’t friends, not really. To Naruto, this guy was someone that tolerated him (or could just never bring himself to care, really), and he was just fine with that. But there was a unifying sensation that fluttered up his sternum. Not bile, or ice like he’d think his stomach had become.



But some badge of having just survived.



Nara Shikamaru. Konoha’s Number One Lazyass. Seems like their class had a lot of number one’s. A guy that found everything troubles and nothing interesting. It was annoying to be around a guy that couldn’t be excited about anything. Where Naruto had been trembling for hours at Iruka crowning him with his very own hitai-ate, this ungrateful hippy simply yawned.



What a turd!



Though, in the light of things…



It was all he could do to at last exhale, leaning back on his hands. “…Fuck. That could’ve been us.” Shikamaru’s eyes rolled to the ceiling in despair, then folded shut in relief. Another breath confirmed he was still alive.



Naruto was nervous, too, and didn’t say anything when the other rubbed the thighs of olive legs; not to soothe himself, but maybe to check if they were still dry.



Hard blue eyes focused on the blackened corridor that the Suna-nin had strode through.



Dread pounded a hollow in his chest.



Sasuke… He doesn’t have a goddamn clue what he’s up against.



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



“Kakashi-sensei!! You have to tell them to stop the fight!”



One lazy eye and a pair of buggy, beady black ones swiveled around to the heaving blond. “Ah, Naruto…? What’s this about?”



“That kid from the Sand! He’s not… like the rest of us!” His dirty head bowed to recover air, knuckles going white on the iron banister.



“Naruto, quiet down or we’ll miss it!” the blond hog down a couple of rows snorted.



Like I don’t know that… Really, sometimes he wondered if his team had any faith in him at all. “I think Sasuke can take care of himself…”



“It’s not like that at all! That guy could kill hi—“



The hairs in Gai’s nose went straight at the death of the drawl in his rival’s voice.



“You should shut up and watch. Don’t blink, or you might wet your pants.”



He didn’t fuck that bratty genius just for the fun of it.



It wasn’t like Kakashi to obstruct a person so suddenly like that. His student wasn’t used to the treatment, because his mouth was hanging open and dumb blue eyes went to the stadium, taking his order gravely.



And he needed to. Blinking would have had him miss the development of the field. In the distance, there was a grainy ball, and a speck of black had just bounded away from it.



The screech of rubber and chakra rebounding off the tall enclosure brought excited hush all through the seats.



With all intent, the jounin had to watch this fight, too. If Sasuke could control that amount of chakra in front of everyone who was doubting him – doubting the Hokage’s decision to trust Kakashi with this mess of things…



Gai, too. Was wondering what was so magnificent that his best friend – HIS BEST RIVAL – needed them all to see.



For a while… there was nothing. Even the closest stands could not detect what was going on in the sandy cocoon or the mind of their most prominent, expected genin.



Silence churned, conjuring low a growl. Escalating, with a distinct crackle in the air… A pitch, turning nothing to deafening static.



A roar in the thrash of –



One by one, the rows lit up with excitement and whispers. By the time it reached the back, it was old and faded news.



“His chakra! I can see it clearly with my eyes! –Kakashi-sensei, what is that?”



I see you’re teaching your favorite some dangerous things as well, Kakashi…



Wrinkles pulled when snowy eyebrows shot up. “My goodness. Is that… Chidori…?”



A month ago, that vile little Avenger had stared death in the face and could only run.



Now, with gold eyes wide, the serpent watched him rush headfirst in to the maw.



Yes… This wait, this ruse, had certainly been worth it.



Back then, panic had cinched his throat, turned a fire in to a flicker; now, there was an infernal scream demanding victory at any price, followed by…



“B… blood…! AAAGH!! T-this is… MY BLOOD!”



For a godlsayer, monsters the likes of Subaku no Gaara were… trivial.



What a wonderful christening to his conquest.



~*~*~*~*~*~



Sasuke never told him about the third one.



Kakashi never needed to be told about the third one.



To hear from med-nin that his Top Rookie needed quarantine when he was brought back to the village said it all.



But, just between the two of them…



He was much more concerned with the waver of wet in black eyes when they had met in the boy again in the hospital room.



The need to scold him had ebbed the second he saw new bandages, and the way a proud chin trembled at seeing the weight of blood on his teacher’s hair.



So, right then, to scold Sasuke flew from his mind when the battered Uchiha lowered his head.



Later that evening, when the blood had washed down the drain and the heat from his bones had been sapped, and Kakashi at last decided to climb out from under the icy showerhead, he wasn’t at all surprised at the obtrusion in his doorway.



His lazy, pale blue eye wandered down to the midnight scalp, afraid to test him with some word to move. He only waited patiently, dripping, freezing in the entrance, and naked for all but a towel on his shoulders.



It had been a long day of killing people. This was really… the last person he needed to see. Not in this condition.



Not all of the Curse had gone dormant just yet. With his bare eye he could see the trails of black flame that still lapped at the boy’s neck. Nowhere in sight was the brand he too had placed.



There wasn’t anything… good enough, to say, right then. Not to a boy with his shoulder trapped in gauze, and bruises littering his ribcage.



…His exposed ribcage.



With his bare blue eye he could see how the drawstring of hospital scrubs was defeated, left unknotted and unconcerned at how just the heavy breathing of the escape to this place had them crawling off white hips.



Kakashi had no doubt that back in his bedroom, a vanquished shirt was rumpled on his floor.



Right then, he felt guilty, on top of everything else. “I… saved the hot water,” he breathed, testing the fragile air.



Dirty toes curled on the floorboards and black satin glimmered with the sheerest sign of a nod.



He understood how the boy couldn’t fall asleep in a hospital. Of all the quirks he had, one would have to be plain ill to do otherwise. A prune, numb hand lifted, falling on to the tender skull.



“…You’re not alone, this time. Everyone lost an important someone, today.”



Tiny shoulders knotted, dark head sinking further under his hand.



There wasn’t anything to say to the drippings that fell to the other shadow’s surface, conjoined by only his arm’s reach. It blended in with soggy footfalls, the jounin stepping in to close the gap. Exhausted muscle and tendon closed around the shoulders of his Top Rookie, and only then could he feel the shivers that paralyzed the boy.



And here, he had thought a long-gone crybaby had done enough crying for this noble line of shinobi.



Moist fingers soothed through hair still filthy with combat.



Today had been a… very bloody day. Brutal. And Kakashi knew well that sleep would not find his filthy soul tonight.



There were few grieves heavier than the loss of someone you looked up to. In his arms was someone who knew that very well.



Perhaps, just for tonight, Kakashi could play the selfless coward from his own pains and give in to miserable company. Fingers drifted through the thicket of black hair, watching it crisp with blood and dirt, and knot and not be recognized to the boy it owned.



Sigh.



~*~*~*~*~*~



This was the first time… The first time for as long as he could remember…



That it had taken more than a night of sleep to recover from his wounds. More than just his muscles, his soul ached too.



Stormy cobalt drifted to the gray sky scuttling by in his window.



Three days, and there was still a knock on his skull. Still too tender to wear his protector properly. Eerie flashes of memory made it hurt, too.



”Rescue Sakura, no matter what it takes.”



Good lord, what had Kakashi done to that prick to make him suddenly care so much…? To risk his life like that.



It hadn’t been an accident, this time. Rather than try and be cool, Sasuke had… been brave. Held fast, even when he was falling apart.



Closing his eyes only made him remember the crawl of black ink on bruised skin and bloody lip.



A sigh broke the dreary, humid silence of his room. Three days without being able to bend over and pick up his dirty laundry.



Three days of not being able to leave his cramped apartment because, frankly…



…he didn’t have the courage or the will to look anyone in the eye and smile, right now.



Not when he was faced with the realization that up until that jerk had made him promise, there had been no way in his blond little brain that he had even fathomed how to get it done, much less to do so.



He’d come so far. Become a full fledged ninja, gotten training from a legendary Sannin – put reins on his own demons!! Just…



Just…



…To still look up to that guy.



Fists formed in the blankets. Thunder rumbled, rattling the old tiles and making the bony framework of the joint-attic complain. Soon, there was the soft tick of something at the glass, and when Naruto turned his head, there was a small dove waiting for him. Blinking at him with unbiased, beady eyes.



Three days just…



Just…



…Wasn’t enough to get away from the world, anymore. But for fear of losing his mind to the outplay of the last events, maybe he was better off blending in with the sea of morose faces soon to gather.



~*~*~*~*~



Springs squeaked; a ninja could always opt for a solid futon, but he liked his squeaky, springy mattress. Just for moments like these, when he could crack his eye barely open and already know what he was going to see.



White back was covered in a web of bruises and scratches, but there was a ring of ink around the wicked tomoe that stood out crisp even in the pathetic light of the room. Just for a moment he could see it, before the Uchiha pulled down the large blue shirt. Then, creeping out through the neck of the large article, he could see it again.



It was the only article his Top Rookie retrieved from the floor and then he stood.



Kakashi sighed in to the lumpy pillow. It reeked of sweat, not just his own; he buried his masked face in to it with a grumble as he heard uneven footsteps toddle for the bathroom.



That’s where Sasuke’s own pants were, after all.



By the time he was back, he was staring at the lifeless pile. There was no glare, no guile, no grunt of disapproval. He barely had the energy to pull sleeves up so he could fold his arms proper.



The jounin took to snaring the pillow under his arm and hoarding that. It still smelled like Uchiha, and that was enough.



Taking the hint, he clicked his tongue, and started for the stairs.



“Not going to shower? You stink…”



Teeth clenched. “I’ll shower at my place.”



“Hn… Just don’t let anyone too close, then.”



He didn’t have the energy to much be angry, either.



Knuckles stayed white on the handrail, and every step gave him a shot of pain from his everywhere to his everything.



He couldn’t bring himself to blame Kakashi, because even if what they had been doing was supposed to hurt, it was his shoulder that was the focal point.



Really, that kind of pain… made him feel a lot better. He had never prided the idea of escaping, be it for his life or from his wounds, but this… This made his Curse a little more bearable.



And, if only for a couple of days, it had made the rest of the world go away.



Shoulders tensed and eyes shrank when he opened the door, confronted by a wall of… green.



“…Hm?” Gai pulled his fist back from the door, blinking curious, glittery, beautifully beady black eyes down his nose at the lack of height impressing the doorway. “Oh. You’re the Uchiha boy, aren’t you. Well go on then. Tell your teacher that his RIVAL is here.”



Sasuke suddenly had an abundance of energy, and he concentrated it in to one tick of his brow before it all melted in to his gaze. “He’s asleep. …Tell him yourself.”



A small chuckle, hands resting on his hips. “Well, it would be unhealthy for him to change his habits now… Lazy bum. And he’s so cool, he can get away with it too!”



Lazy indeed. Sasuke himself had barely gotten any sleep, and he had to at least pretend otherwise. Now if he could just… slip by…



As much as he was never one to consider escaping, it sounded like a perfectly good idea now. Fingers shakily reached for the nearest thing to pull him around the hideously green obstruction.



It didn’t take much, because Gai invited himself in to the tiny house, calling all the way up the stairs. Heart thudding with relief, Sasuke yanked the door shut and heaved himself against it with a loud exhale.



What a freak.



“Kakashiii~! Kakashi! Oi!” His MIGHTY, wonderfully dexterous toes pinched and prodded at the pale man still coiled in bed. “I know you’re alive! I can hear your mask itching!!”



Dammit. Playing dead wasn’t working. Especially when a forceful jab knocked at a sore rib. “Umf…”



“A good host would have been up to GREET my glorious face right now. A guest shouldn’t have to invite another guest in to the host’s splendidly barren abode!” So lacking of descriptive personality and detail!



SO COOL!



“Go away, Gai…”



“Not after I went to all the trouble of knocking! I would have snuck in, but I saw your student come by, and I never saw him leave, so I figured it would be rude to intrude on your valuable BONDING TIME!”



That got a sharp blue eye to open, rolling over to the eyesore nearby. “…You were stalking my house…?”



Oh no…



“Oho no… Not at all!!” He posed, mightly, thumbing his own chest in greatness. “An honorable man such as myself would never stoop to stalking! I happen to have an acquaintance that lives down the way and he invited me to come stay with him while I waited for the Uchiha to leave. Which—by the way…”



“…I know, it’s wrong…”



His finger lifted in scholarly poise. “You’re absolutely right it is! You should have invited the other two to come and bond, too.”



…Oh no…



Just… Just the idea made him groan and die a little in to the pillow. If only he could smother himself…



But no. Gai tugged the pillow away long before he could do that. “I must say, he looks a little like his father when he’s surly.”



Snort. “Just a little…?”



Gai wrinkled his bulbous nose, reconsidering. “A lot. Did you let him have that shirt?”



“Not really…”



“I’ll get it back for you then!!”



Kakashi was pelted in the face by his own pillow’s return when he sat up to reach for spandex that had already made it to the door. “Gai, no!! It’s okay! Yeesh… The hospital will.. go looking for him if they recognize his scrubs, is all.”



“Clever, Kakashi!”



What an exhausting guy.



~*~*~*~*~*~



“You never do take funerals very well. Still, that’s no excuse to be late.” If anything, he would punch the brat himself for being tardy to this.



It wasn’t something anyone wanted to attend. Having to confront tragedy, like this. But they had to. They owed it.



Kakashi didn’t say anything to the Sennin. He couldn’t muster much of a defense. Right now, anything he said would have been wrong, anyway.



Both pairs of eyes went to the figure that came over the hill, a crest of dark hair and all clad in black. Hands were in his pockets, and the youth approached with little more than a glance to the whip of white hair at the wooden stakes.



While he could have easily cut through town to commute to the site, he could also cut through the fields, because he had a feeling that had just been proven right.



Sandals scuffed to a stop in the wilted grass, falling in to place beside his jounin instructor. “…I was going to go get the other two…”



He was exhausted, but there was a sharp edge in his voice. “So go get them.”



It was a moment, but the Uchiha stirred, and started down the path again. It was when he was out of earshot that Jiraiya glared.



“So that’s the one…?”



“Mm…”



The one that old man had really been protecting. Not just this village, but to thwart Orochimaru simultaneously.



“He looks…”



“Like his father. I know.”



Weathered eyes narrowed. “Lemme finish my thought, brat. I was going to say… he looks like his mother, actually. Itachi’s the one that looks like their father.”



“I don’t think he’d like you very much if he heard that.”



“Keh! Like I care if he likes me. He likes you just fine, it seems.”



He… didn’t have a rebuttal for that. He really didn’t.



“You’re pissing on a lot of doorsteps with this. You know that, right?”



Numb was a wonderful sensation when it kept you from caring about what you were being told. “Advice from experience…?”



Hiss.



~*~*~*~*~*~



Though he hated to admit it, he had never lost anyone.



To be spared the consequence of losing people, because he had never really had anyone, he had never realized just how… good he had it.



Azure depths stung at watching Konohamaru being unable to control himself, wiping snot in to his sleeves.



Naruto centered his gaze on the procession, but hearing that kid bawl tore at him just as badly as watching it. And right next to him, there was someone else…



Even when they were younger, he had never been able to catch the Uchiha lapse, and mourn, about what happened to him.



It was something that the blond couldn’t comprehend. The idea of losing an entire family, dozens upon dozens of people, and suddenly confronted with the knowing that you were the only one left.



Even now, he didn’t see any falter in inky depths. They stared ahead, with a severance that he envied. To be able to detach oneself from all of this perhaps, he would not trade the experience for.



Something stabbed him in the ribs, followed by, “Cmon, eyes front.”



He’d already chanced being rude enough. Naruto wasn’t about to lift his arm to nurse the hurt.



In some small way, everyone here was let down by the idea that even their Hokage could be taken down. To be confronted with their mortality left a quiescence to linger in the rain.



What was a headcold, compared to this?



Those that had brought umbrellas never unsheathed them.



So many were hollowed by the idea that even the likes of their Sandaime could be brought to end.



In some small way, Sasuke reveled in the idea that Orochimaru was a man that had such capacity.



There was no shame in admitting to the fist of power when it struck you across the face.



Wounds would heal. Then, you would know it was for the better.