Hot Night in Konoha (complete)

Warnings

• Anal
  
• Angst
  
• Dom
  
• Language
  
• M/M
  
• N/C
  
• Oral
  
• Yaol
  

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Conventions

Thoughts of Sasuke and others are set in italic type (whole paragraph)

Naruto’s thoughts are set in bold-italic type (whole paragraph).

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The Sixth Hokage of Konoha Village in the Hidden Leaf country looked up from piles of paperwork with a jerk of his head. No one there. He sighed, picked up a porcelain bowl and swiveled in his chair to look out the broad window that separated him from a sweltering summer. He sipped cooling green tea, savoring the aroma, as he watched temperature differentials shimmer above rooftops, then put down the bowl, rose, and clasped hands behind back, surveying his kingdom.

Was it worth it? Really? We killed so many, and to what purpose? So that I could—

A tentative knock at the door punctuated the soft drone of the Hokage’s air conditioner—a privilege reserved for the rich and powerful of the village. The Sixth bowed his head and sighed.

“Come.”

The door opened slowly. Uchiha Sasuke remained outside the threshold, sullen disdain on his face.

“What do you want with me?”

The Sixth smiled without humor, then turned to face his son.

“Is that any way to speak to your Hokage?”

“You are not my Hokage. You are a petty thief who stole power and—”

The Sixth spoke with a tone even and subdued, but laden with strength: “You will not speak that way to your father, Sasuke.”

The boy’s storm-gray eyes tightened, locked with the matching pair a generation older.

“Come in, Sasuke. We need to talk.”

The boy broke the stare. He gave a snort of disgust as he turned his head.

“We can do that at home.”

“We will do it now.” Pause. “Take a seat.”

Sasuke didn’t move.

“I said,—”

“I heard you.” Sasuke buried hands in the pockets of his white shorts and slouched toward the single chair centered in front of Uchiha Fugaku’s broad desk as his father glared down at him. Before he reached it, his father spoke:

“Shut the door, Sasuke.”

Sasuke stopped, scowled, returned to the door, muttering under his breath as he did as asked: “Don’t want to waste our precious cold air, do we?”

He returned to the chair and sat, sliding his butt forward and crossing his feet. Sweat from the heat of the morning, now drying in the air conditioner’s chill, made his legs sticky. He stared at his feet as silence stretched between boy and father. Finally Sasuke looked up to see his father’s frown. Uchiha Fugaku moved to his chair without breaking his stare. He sat and picked up a document; held it between him and his son.

“I thought you wanted to talk.”

“I do,” Fugaku said, dropping the paper. He leaned forward, clasped hands on desk. “I want to know what you plan on doing with yourself.”

Sasuke looked down again and whispered. “Son of a bitch, this again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Doesn’t matter.” The boy looked up. “Haven’t we gone over this enough?”

“No.” Pause. “And you know why. We will continue this discussion until you give me a satisfactory answer.”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes.

“I—” Sasuke paused, gathered his confidence with a slow breath. “I’ve already given you my answer.”

Fugaku, face impassive, stared at his son. After a moment he spoke quietly: “‘I don’t know’ is not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have.”

“And it’s far from satisfactory, Sasuke,” Fugaku said, not acknowledging his son’s response. “It’s unacceptable. The only son of the Sixth Hokage of Konoha will not fritter away his life in trivial pursuits.”

Sasuke’s lip curled upward in a snarl as he said, “Don’t you mean, “‘only remaining son’”?

Fugaku’s jaw tightened as he spoke.

“Don’t.”

“So, what would you have me do?”

“Fulfill your destiny as the future head of the Uchiha clan. Start your training as a ninja, which you should have begun four years ago.”

“I’m not going to be the head of the Uchiha clan.”

“You have no choice. It’s—”

“My destiny?” Sasuke said, his voice rising. “Already decided? Nothing about me is decided. Don’t you get that? I refuse to live my life according to your plan. I will walk my own path.”

“And what path is that, Sasuke?” Fugaku’s words grew clipped with tension. “Every day you do nothing at all: sleep till mid-morning or later; refuse to take your place as—”

Sasuke uncrossed his feet and sat up. “As your heir?” he said with thick sarcasm. “That was Itachi. Remember?”

Fugaku’s eyes blazed for an instant, then narrowed.

“Don’t talk about him.”

“Why not?” Sasuke yelled, leaning forward. “Isn’t he the reason you’re the Sixth?”

Fugaku rose and put palms on desk, leaned forward as he shouted.

“Shut your mouth, Sasuke.”

The boy immediately stood, eyes blazing, clenching hands into fists. He spoke with a calm that belied his anger.

“No.”

“What did you—”

“I said, ‘No!’ I will not shut up!”

Fugaku straightened, took his hands off the desk. Sasuke immediately hopped backward, afraid of what his father might do. The elder Uchiha’s gray eyes hardened, narrowed. He took breath.

“Itachi had nothing to do with—”

“Yes, he did,” Sasuke said, his voice rising further. “Itachi was asked to spy on you by the village elders. They thought you were planning to take over Konoha. When they got Itachi’s report, they ordered him to eliminate everyone in the clan.”

Fugaku paled. “How do you know—”

Sasuke overran his father’s words.

“But he didn’t—he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to kill his family. Instead, he told you the elders were out to get you, and then watched as you slowly destroyed them—destroyed everything good about Konoha except the people, whose spirit you will never crush!”

Sasuke paused, now trembling.

“That’s when he had had enough. That’s when your beloved Itachi (Sasuke spat the name) tried to kill himself.”

“What do you mean, ‘tried’?”

Sasuke’s body remained tense, but his voice grew quiet. He turned away from his father’s stern gaze and spoke as though reliving the scene he described.

“I went looking for him that day. It—it had been so long since I’d spent time with him, like we used to when I was a child. And I found him. He was under a tree near the old training grounds with a kunai knife, splitting open the veins in his arms.”

Fugaku scowled, but held his tongue. Sasuke drew a trembling breath, closed his eyes.

“I went crazy when I saw him. I tried to pull him up, but he had already lost a lot of blood and was too weak to stand. He wouldn’t make an effort. He kept saying this was the best way.”

Sasuke’s eyes grew bright with tears held back. His voice became a hoarse whisper.

“And—and you know what happened next?”

When he heard no answer, Sasuke looked up, faced his father’s growing anger.

“He asked me…to—to…help him…finish—to finish—”

“He did no such thing!”

Fugaku’s outburst was so loud, so startling that Sasuke stumbled back against the wall.

His father’s tone was biting, forceful.

“I’ve had enough of your pathetic lies, Sasuke. You are an insolent, snot-nosed, good-for-nothing slacker. You make up these lies to justify your laziness. You shirk your duty. You—”

Fugaku’s rage overtook him. Red in the face, now unable to speak, he came around his desk with hatred in his eyes.

Sasuke ran.

Fugaku stood at the door to his office and yelled with all his strength.

“You are no son of mine! Do not ever come home! Ever! Do not ever show your face to me again!”

Fugaku slammed the door and gripped his fists so tightly that tiny rivulets of blood sprang from nails against rough palms.