Chapter Text
“So, you want to leave,” Kakashi says, elbows propped on the windowsill as he leans just outside of it, “Again.”
His mask is pulled down just enough to sip at his beer, but he’s faced away, out into the nighttime village air. Were Sasuke younger, or healthier, or not about to jump out of his skin at any given moment, he might feel the urge to go and take a peek. There’s enough room beside Kakashi for it, after all, almost as if he left the space open for Sasuke to join him. But he’s none of those things, so he doesn’t, and Kakashi can calmly face away in privacy.
“It’d be different this time,” Sasuke says, hands folded on his lap. “ I’m not - I’m not running off to get myself killed. I’m not who I used to be.” Inhaling heavily, he adds, “I need to see the world.”
The beer can Kakashi had given him sits untouched and unopened on the nightstand to his left. Since returning to Konoha, he’s spent more and more time here, in Kakashi’s apartment, sitting on the edge of the bed just as he is now, toes curling in unrest against the cold floor. Although Kakashi didn’t welcome him home with open arms, he did welcome him with an open door and fridge, and that’s more than enough. In a way it’s better - less smothering, more inviting. Easier. Usually, Kakashi doesn’t offer him alcohol, because he’s an adult, and the Hokage, and seems to enjoy pretending he’s good at either of those things, or whatever. But sometimes he can see the way Sasuke tightens and curls inside like a loaded spring, and relents, responsibility be damned. Sasuke’s sure he remembers what it’s like, even if he’s hazy on the details of what all Kakashi’s been through. However horrible it may have been, he doubts it can even scratch the surface of his own experience. It’s enough, though. He’s been trying to make it enough.
Tonight, though, Sasuke remains tightened; his lips loose with purpose rather than alcohol.
“Hm,” Kakashi hums in acknowledgement, “you were gone pretty long before. Did you not see enough of the world then?”
“Like I said, I was different than I am now. I need to look at the world with new eyes.”
“So you do.” His tone is… dismissive, not quite here, definitely not accepting what Sasuke is telling him. His nonchalance is fitting of small talk with his mind elsewhere, not of Sasuke announcing this major fucking life decision. Or maybe he is paying attention, and just isn’t worried about it. Does he think he could stop him? He couldn’t last time, no one could, and even if he’s not willing to spill any blood this time, he - “You’ve only just gotten back, don’t get cold feet already.”
“It’s been nine months, Kakashi,” he corrects. The ‘ -sensei’ hangs off unsaid, though it curls up underneath his tongue, old habits dying long and hard. One thing he can say for himself is that he has never, ever felt the urge to call the man ‘Rokudaime’. Small victories.
“Only nine months back after what, five years?”
“Four.”
“Ahh, so much better.”
“I really don’t need your sarcasm right now,” he sighs, straining in knuckles into tight white discs.
Kakashi turns around then, finishing up the motion of sliding his mask back over his nose before Sasuke can catch a glimpse. “You usually don’t,” he says, “but then, what do you need? I’m not sure why you’ve come to me with this. Were you hoping for my blessing?”
So what, maybe he was. Not for any reasons of sentimentality, or encouragement in his actions - he knows what he needs to do and so he’ll do it, with or without approval, just as he always has. But, Kakashi’s blessing would mean having the Hokage on his side, an approved exit of the village rather than blatant abandonment as before. He’s still not reinstated officially - probably never will be, realistically - but he doesn’t need a bounty on his head for something as trivial as a soul-searching journey.
And well, there is one other thing Kakashi’s blessing may assist with.
Kakashi, catching on quick, says, “You know, I can’t stop Naruto from stopping you, no matter how far I outrank him. We all tried for years the first time.” He cracks his empty beer can down into a crumpled mess then, tossing it into the wastebasket across the room. “Naruto does as he pleases. Most so when it comes to you.”
Well, it was worth a shot. Sasuke sighs, standing, having heard more than enough; he’s said his piece. He has no guarantee Kakashi won’t set a bounty on him, but from the ease in Kakashi’s stance, he can assume his evasion of it is as much of a go-ahead as he’s going to get. “No matter, I can’t stay in Konoha any longer. And that’s that.”
They’re meant to be his final words to the man - maybe for tonight, maybe until he eventually does make it back to Konoha, whenever that may be, maybe until he ends up dead on a rock with no one to identify him but the buzzards. Whichever comes first. But Kakashi, as always, manages to get the final word in. “Sasuke?”
“What?” he asks, hand hovering over the knob to Kakashi’s front door.
“You should try talking to him, before you go,” he says. “He usually understands more than you think he will.”
He closes the door behind him.
He’d planned to tell Naruto anyway, even without Kakashi’s advice. The last thing anyone needs is for Sasuke to disappear without a word, and for Naruto to drop everything and run after him. Again. Naruto’s the Village’s golden boy now, it seems, with admirer after admirer constantly nipping at his heels and foreign officials gifting him with bountiful thanks and wealth. (Nevermind that Sasuke’s rinnegan is the only reason they were able to actually save everyone at the end, but, whatever. Sasuke wouldn’t want to be a hero, anyway. Really.) If Naruto disappeared, he’s sure the entire nation would break down in hysterics and he’d be even more of a public enemy than he is now. So, it’s better not to just bounce without a trace. He’s realistic, that way.
It’s a bittersweet feeling - the certainty with which he knows that Naruto would drop everything to go after him. Four years of Naruto never once wavering proved that much to him, to the point that they’d both nearly lost their lives. It doesn’t answer the question of why , but he guesses he can chalk that up to Naruto’s stupidity and leave it at that. (It itches at the back of his mind despite his efforts, but so do many things.)
Therefore, he’s far from surprised when the first thing out of Naruto’s mouth after he tells him is, “ No !” Naruto’s eyes flick to him in an instant, blue as always but burning in the way he normally only sees from him in combat.
Sasuke sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose, “I knew that’s how you’d respond.”
“If you knew that, then why are you still telling me this like it’s normal! No, you’re not going anywhere, what!” Were it not Naruto who was shouting up a storm here, his volume would be far too high for sitting at the ramen stand in public as they are now. But it’s Naruto, and everyone knows him, and so they pretend the volume doesn’t bother their ears as much as it does. Sasuke bites his tongue on a chastization.
“I’m telling you because I’ve made up my mind,” he says, taking his bowl from the girl working the stand with a nod. What’s her name again? He’s been here enough times, before and since his return, but he can never seem to remember. Too many new faces after years with so few. And well, maybe he doesn’t actually care all that much. Regardless, after passing them their meals, she flits back, seemingly making an effort not to listen to their conversation. He appreciates it. “I’m going,” he continues. “It’s a peaceful journey, not like before.”
“Yeah, sure ,” Naruto scoffs, crossing his one arm over his chest and not even touching the ramen sitting in front of him. Shit , that defeats the whole purpose of bringing him here. The news was meant to go down easier with a filling stomach. “Tsunade’s almost done with our new arms, you know. You gonna take off before you even get that? Her and Sakura have been workin’ so damn hard!”
“I don’t know if I even want the arm,” he says, uncomfortably shifting his left shoulder.
“ What !”
How he feels about the arm is… complicated. The idea of the Zetsu flesh itself is odd enough on its own. He doesn’t want to ever look down at his palms and see the rubbery, pearl-white flesh of an arm that isn’t even his, twisting and curling with his movements. There’s enough nightmares lurking in his skull about dead-looking skin, he could do without fuel for it. And, well. The trip is meant to be for retribution as much as it is to escape the suffocation of Konoha. A new arm feels… wrong. The gaping space where his limb once was has meaning - as much meaning as the matching void on Naruto’s body beside him.
But the feeling doesn’t appear to be mutual, with the way Naruto’s been going on and on about their new arms, and that’s fair, that’s fine. Naruto should have a full set of limbs, especially if he’s still reaching for the same ambitions he’s been since practically birth. The Hokage should be able to weave signs with both hands. He doesn’t have to see the same things Sasuke does. No one should.
Swallowing harshly, he says, “I just don’t want the arm. I’m sure it can be repurposed elsewhere; enough shinobi are missing arms out there.”
“But it’s like, built to process your chakra or whatever, like to filter for the sharingan and shit,” Naruto says, clearly trying to repeat whatever Sakura had told him about how it worked.
“They can re build it, then, for someone else’s chakra,” Sasuke responds, taking a bite of his ramen.
“Oh my god, you’re so - this is besides the point,” he gripes, finally grabbing his chopsticks. Rather than eating, though, he just pokes them in the broth, stirring it around anxiously. “I’m not letting you leave again, Sasuke.”
“I told you-”
“It’s different, it’s different, yeah yeah I know! You think I give a shit? I didn’t care that you left to be an international criminal or whatever, I cared that you left to be alone .”
Dammit.
He brought them here partially because he hoped - maybe Naruto would be too embarrassed, or ashamed, or something, to bring out actual emotions. But that was naive and he should’ve known that. Naruto isn’t afraid of his heart the way Sasuke always has been.
“I’m not letting you be alone again, Sasuke,” he says, softly, only for them to hear, angling his shoulders toward him and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.
He sighs, focusing his eyes back on his meal, refusing to make eye contact with Naruto right now. “Then what would you have me do? I can’t stay here.”
“Why not?” he asks, and it’s gentle, and he means it, and Sasuke wants to burn everything around him to the ground.
‘ Why not ’ he asks? Because every day he’s here he can see blood in the teeth of the smiles of everyone he passes. Because it sickens him that Kakashi knows what happened to his family because of this village and would still choose to lead it. Because it sickens him that Naruto might one day do the same. Because everyone here looks at him like he’s a demon ready to snap all their bones when he’s not sure he could ever even truly kill again. Because his own team left him behind here to hunt Orochimaru on their own, because they were more bloodthirsty than he can let himself be anymore. Because he’s still too bloodthirsty for anyone within these walls.
Because every day it’s blood, blood, blood, and there has to be a place where it isn’t.
But he doesn’t say any of that, he never would, he just grips his fist until his chopsticks snap within it. He hears Naruto next to him take a slurp of his ramen.
“Okay,” Naruto says.
“Okay?” What does he mean ‘okay’? He’s just gonna let him leave? Relief and betrayal are wrestling inside him, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to finish this fucking meal, he -
“I’ll come with you.”
“You- what?”
Muffled and gross through his bites, he says, “You wanna leave, sure. But not on your own. And we’re coming back eventually. It’ll be like, a vacation.”
“I-” Sasuke starts, but all he has left is a nod and a breath of relief. He glances over, and Naruto’s smiling a little to himself. The bastard. “Okay.”
“So, when do we leave?”
About three hours out from Konoha, Sasuke realizes what a terrible idea this was.
It shouldn’t’ve been - it’s exactly what he wanted, even if he never would’ve let his thoughts close enough to properly acknowledge it. He’d spent too many sleepless nights, eyes snapped open, sprawled on Naruto’s couch, wondering what it’d be like to take him away from there and never look back. Just a packed bag, the rush of tree branches beneath his feet, and Naruto by his side. It always humiliated him, tightened up a ball of fear and shame in his gut, the feeling of desire or need for anyone making him sick. But that’s why those fantasies never left the earliest hours of the day.
He guesses fantasy Naruto tends to be a lot less frustrating that reality, though.
“We gotta stick to the roads,” he says whenever he can tell Sasuke’s eyes are wandering to the woods beside them. “Kakashi-sensei’s orders!” ‘ Stupid orders, ’ he thinks. Yeah, it makes them more traceable for Konoha in case something goes wrong. But it also makes them more traceable to enemies , which they both have plenty of. The open road has a certain appeal to it, sure, but he can feel the targets all over his back here. It’s not comforting.
“Since when are you such a goody two-shoes?” Sasuke asks, even if it’s a dumb question. Konoha’s golden boy , he remembers. Doesn’t get much goody-er than that.
That seems to ruffle some feathers, Naruto’s lip sticking out in that stupid pout, saying, “Since when are you scared of some random rogue ninja? We can take whoever shows up!”
It’s not that Sasuke disagrees, he just… He sighs, losing this argument for the third time that hour, “Fine.” Apparently pleased, Naruto immediately goes back to chattering away about more inane topics. Something stupid Kiba did before they left, something some kid said to him, whatever. Sasuke did his best to check out.
Having traveled with Taka for the better part of his time as a nukenin, company on the road is something he ought to be used to. But it was nothing compared to the way Naruto makes his ears burn, a mysterious and unsettling weight pushing at his side as if Naruto’s very being is radiating off onto him. In his absence, Sasuke felt a void, empty and aching, but his presence is suffocating, bearing down on his chest and ejecting the air from his lungs.
Being around Naruto feels like drowning.
Dragging him back into focus, Naruto asks, “Are you sure you should’ve talked to Sakura like that when we said goodbye?” It’s indirect, nothing like the tactless aggression he would’ve once given, having learned subtlety somewhere along the line, but it remains rhetorical and biting.
“She was being stubborn,” Sasuke answers, because she had been. He doesn’t see how his absence should have anything to do with her.
“We need to get out of the village for a little while. It’ll be good for us,” Naruto had said.
“You mean Sasuke needs to get out of the village,” Sakura said, like Sasuke wasn’t even there.
And maybe there was some more reasonable discussion in between, and maybe her concerns were founded, but you wouldn’t catch Sasuke admitting that. Just a cutting insult and a dramatic exit, a pissed off Naruto joining his side some time later, saying ‘We can go now.’
“She was just worried!”
“It’s not her business to be worried about.”
Naruto snorts in annoyance, always so defensive of the girl, “She’s our friend!”
“She’s your friend,” Sasuke corrects.
Letting out a huff at that, Naruto’s finally silent. Took long enough - if Sasuke had wanted a chatty companion, he would’ve brought Suigetsu and Karin. At least then they would’ve babbled amongst themselves and left him out of it.
But somehow, he finds the silence is killing him. He can only take so many minutes of cicadas chirping in the trees and Naruto not saying a single word before Sasuke grinds out, “What?”
“Nothing,” he says, but it’s not at all reassuring, that stupid goddamn pout set securely on his face. How could he possibly think he’s being convincing? What kind of ninja is he?
‘ A godly ninja is what he is ,’ he corrects himself a bit bitterly. A ninja beyond compare (outside himself), enough to take down the origin of all chakra. Yet still, he’s all expression, all bright and blinding and boisterous, no tact or subterfuge to him. And well, maybe that’s what the shinobi world needs. Enough lies.
He’s being dramatic though, and he knows it. This isn’t a mission, it’s a petty disagreement about Sasuke’s social life that Naruto just can’t quite get over.
“Just spit it out.”
“I just think you’re an asshole when it comes to Sakura!” he, as requested, spits it out. “We’re a team, you shouldn’t shit on her all the time.”
The word ‘team’ raises bile in his throat, something insulting and naive about the implication. It’s been nine months and Naruto still doesn’t get where he stands on this. “I don’t know what you’re expecting of me. Should we stroll back to Konoha so I can apologize? ‘Oh, sorry Sakura, I know you’ve still got this delusion of playing house with me, so I should be more sensitive to your delicate little feelings. My bad.’”
“Ugh, that’s exactly what I mean! What the fuck, dude? She’s not even into you anymore!”
“So why does she still bother me?”
“Because she’s your friend, or at least she tries to be! Why’s it so hard for you to let people care about you?”
And there it is, a touch of something too real. He grinds his teeth, feeling the too-smooth slide over the false ones added to replace those missing. He wants to ask, ‘Why’s it so easy for you to forgive everyone?’ but he doesn’t, because there’s already too much vulnerability here. And besides, no emotional probing on Naruto’s part is going to change his annoyance with Sakura. He keeps walking.
“Why do you think I bother you all the time?” Naruto persists, angling himself as they walk so he’s just a bit ahead, forcing their eyes to lock.
Sasuke swallows. The implication between his assumption and the logic following is too thick, too on-the-nose. He’s not ready for that. “Because you’re a dumbass,” he says, speeding up his pace to pass him.
“Hey!” Naruto squawks after him, meeting his speed. The sun is close to setting.