#au sasuke

ex playboy (but now dating Tenten) Sasuke x Clumsy Tenten

By the time he reached Maple Wood Hospice, the sun was just peeking up over the horizon. It’s indecisiveness shaded the sky in violet and cobalt hues. For a long time Sasuke stood at the bus stop, staring at the large building from across the street. Under the large sign reading Maple Wood was a worn banner swaying in the wind with the phrase “For those who want the very best for their love ones”across it in tacky font.

A sudden rush of nausea caused the pale teen to stumble back, catching himself on the bus stop pole and taking a seat on the curb. For a moment he tried to remember the last time he had eaten but the voice mail he had gotten from his step mother played in his head again and again. He didn’t want to believe that this was the final destination for his mother, the place she would die. His brother’s face flashed behind his eyes and he kicked at the bus stop sign, the rusted metal creaking in protest.

‘How could he just let them dump her here?’

Though there relationship was greatly lacking, the one thing he had always believed is that Itachi would look out for their mother. Be the voice that had long been silenced by her illness. Taking a deep breath he stood up crossing the street quickly, heading for the glass double doors. As he reached the first section of steps he froze, the voice of the last person he wanted to see in that moment flooding his ears. As his brother’s footsteps got closer his grip tightened around the railing, his knuckles turning white. He spoke through a clenched jaw without turning around, his voice full of venom.

"So… this is how you take care of her?”

"I’m sorry, Sasuke… I’m trying." Itachi's voice was unusually small.

"I… I didn’t want this either. But there’s nothing I can do about this. You and I both know that he’s wrapped around her thumb." Hanging his head the older Uchiha let out a defeated sigh.

Bitter laughter is all Sasuke could manage at his brother’s apology. As far as he was concerned it was complete bullshit. Releasing his death grip on the railing he twisted his body to face Itachi. He kept his eyes on his converses, afraid he wouldn’t be able to resit the urge to punch him if he looked up.

The mention of Fujiko made Sasuke clenched his jaw even tighter. His step mother truly was the only person he hated more than his father. Over the last few years he had watched her usurp her way into his family, playing on his mother falling deeper into her illness. He has spent countless nights in his room thinking of scenarios to get her out of their life, but the only thing his father loved more than money was sex, and her vagina was about all Fujiko had going for her.

Perfect couple.

Sasuke shook his head, a migraine was coming on and the nausea was back. Suddenly he felt dizzy and gripped the railing again, this time solely for support.

"That’s a fucking excuse Itachi," he hissed. " It’s not good enough… "

The wind picked up suddenly and Sasuke noticed the lack of feeling in his fingers. He shoved them in his pockets as he looked back up at the Maple Wood sign. The bluish grey shadows of dawn making it look gloomier than before.

"She always… ," he began but his voice trailed off, his onyx eyes softening a bit. "She always protected us from him…" The younger Uchiha squeezed his eyes shut, the pounding in his head deafening now.

"What do you want me to do, Sasuke?"

For a long time Sasuke stood there with his eyes closed.. When he opened his eyes to meet his brother’s gaze, it became hard to focus. His knees suddenly felt like liquid and the back of his eyes stung.

" I… I want you to fix it.”

When he is a bit older he believes he has reached the height of maturity, having just joined the Academy. War is still some years away, but a strange watchfulness has descended over the village. Conflict is already on the horizon.

But Sasuke is still young, and only knows that Father has been missing dinner more and more often. As a shinobi-in-training, Sasuke feels well-equipped to stake out the foyer, ambush his father, and demand that he fulfill his familial duties. With that goal in mind, Sasuke creeps out of bed once Mother and Itachi retire and strings up the front entrance with ninja wire.

He remembers waiting, and waiting, eyes drooping and excitement waning as shadows started leaving their corners to morph into fantastic shapes. He remembers the surprise of his head thunking into the wall, the anxiety of nearly falling asleep at his self-appointed post.

The next thing he remembers is hands patiently untangling his from the ninja wire, a tired voice murmuring, “Sasuke you foolish child.” Sasuke snuggles into his father’s worn flak jacket, tucking his face into the crook of his neck.

“Not. ‘m a ninja,” he yawns, inhaling Father’s smoke and paper scent, feeling his quiet chuckle. “The best,” Sasuke insists, too tired to be very offended, curling first one, then the other arm around Father’s neck as his hands are freed. There is a moment of free fall as Father stands, leaving the wire strung up around the room, and Sasuke sinks deeper into his father’s arms.

This is the way Sasuke remembers his father:

He is young and it is before the war; he and Obito are playing by the Naka when they find a cat with half its tail torn off and a broken left back leg. Sasuke cries because he knows it will die, but Obito only tears his shirt off, using it to bundle the animal up, shoving it into Sasuke’s arms, shouting, go, go, you’re faster than me, go. Sasuke stumbles up the muddy bank, clutching the sodden mess to his chest. With Obito urging him on, he takes off running, feet automatically taking him home.

His father is leaving for work as Sasuke sprints up the front steps and nearly collides with him, and it is Sasuke’s muddy feet that catch his attention. He grabs Sasuke by the shoulder and silences his protests with a glance, disappearing back into the house. When he returns he has a wet cloth in one hand and a towel tucked under his arm, and he kneels beside Sasuke to methodically wipe his legs clean. Sasuke fidgets impatiently, torn between respect and urgency, until finally he bursts out, where’s Mother?

Father’s level why sends the whole story spilling from Sasuke’s lips. Your mother is resting and not to be disturbed over something so trivial, Father warns in his Chief of Police voice, so final that the energy drains from Sasuke’s body and he stops jigging impatiently. He can only nod, too upset to speak, when his father instructs him to leave his shoes outside.

Then Father peels back a fold of Obito’s shirt, prodding roughly at the cat’s broken leg. There is lightning movement and four tracks of torn skin opening up across the back of his father’s hand and Sasuke stares, mouth hanging open as Father—smiles. He sweeps the cat from Sasuke’s arms, calling your shoes over his shoulder. Sasuke toes them off obediently and trails along in his father’s shadow as he tends to the cat’s wounds. No matter how broken the body, he explains, splinting the cat’s leg as Sasuke helps hold it still, if the spirit is whole there is little life cannot recover from.

Father is gone by the time Obito finally arrives, gasping for breath and clutching his side, and the cat is settled comfortably in Father’s study with a warm blanket and a pan of sedative-laced cream within easy reach. For the duration of its recovery the animal claims the space as its own, slowly expanding its territory to include the rest of the house and grounds, until it is years later and the gray cat with its half tail and gimp leg seems to have always been a fixture in the family, sharing space with Father in the mornings when he drinks tea and in the evenings when he sits on the porch and watches the sun set.

Sasuke will grow up hearing the story of how Father’s cat was originally a stray he and Obito rescued, but this is what he himself will remember: his father’s skin breaking open, welling red.