#clueless sasuke

It is a slow procession that descends the slippery, and sometimes crumbling, stairwell.

“Is it possible to get to the Deep Roads from here?” Sasuke wonders. “An underground route to Iwa might be more convenient for us than going around.”

“If there is, it wouldn’t be safe,” Sakura replies. “Not that the Deep Roads are ever safe, but there’s a difference between ten darkspawn and ten thousand.”

“Yeah, we learned that the hard way,” Naruto mutters with a palpable shiver.

Much to their chagrin, though their journey through the centre of the mountain is less dangerous than their trek upwards, it takes longer. There is nowhere along the way down for them to stop, and along the lone trek downward, moods and tempers fray.

They are all of them relieved when after half a day if walking, the ground levels out and leads to a narrow mining shaft. Fresh, cool air beckons beyond them. Though the sun appears to be setting, it still provides enough light to guide them out of a small path at the base of the mountain.

Once they are all safely back outside, the tiny doorway they came through shifts and fuses back up, rocks and stones drawing together seamlessly. If they had not walked through it, Sasuke would not know the entrance was even there.

“And that is why we could not have taken the back way up even if we wanted to,” Kakashi tells Naruto. “Dwarven doors are invisible when closed.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

The based of the Three Wolves Mountain is still cold and dreary, but it is not as dismal as the summit. Naruto wants to head for Uzushiogakure at once, but Sakura puts her foot down.

“I’m having a bath and real food and an actual bed for once,” she insists. “It’s been a week of pretending we don’t hear each other pee, I need a night of privacy.”

Sasuke makes a noise of agreement. After getting off the blighted mountain top, he wants a warm meal and the ability to scrub the blood from his various nooks and crannies. Perhaps Naruto was raised in a stable and likes the dirt, but Sasuke and his people have always been fastidiously clean.

To soothe Naruto’s grumbling, they do end up heading toward Arl Hiruzen’s castle. Still, the four of them keep an eye out for settlements in the area which might offer a place to stop.

As they walk, Sasuke realises Sakura has fallen into step beside him, while Naruto and Kakashi somehow linger farther and farther behind them. Wondering if it is on purpose, Sasuke makes the mistake of glancing at Sakura out of the corner of his eyes, noticing that she is doing the same.

Her cheeks turn red and she looks away.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly. “I was just…I wondered if you’re alright.”

Sasuke makes a face. “You always ask me that. Do I seem feeble to you?” 

“What? No! That’s not—it’s just, I get the sense that people never asked you that much.”

“I am not a child that requires reassurance at every turn.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Sakura makes a face. “Is it so hard to believe I care about your well-being because…just because?”

He does not respond, not wanting to point out that beyond being hard to understand, it is illogical to him. In his view, he has done nothing to call for such an interest.

“I know you pretend like this was some silly mission or quest or thing to get out of the way,” she goes on, “and more trouble than it was worth. But what happened up there affected you.”

“Tch!”

“I saw you in that chamber when we fought those doppelgängers,” she insists. She lowers her voice with a surreptitious glance back to where Naruto and Kakashi bring of the rear of their little procession. “I didn’t mention it because the others were so close by, but I wanted to. It unnerved you to hurt us. Even if it wasn’t really us.”

“Is that something you saw?” he sneers, but there is little bite to it.

“Yes, it is,” she insists stubbornly. “You know why? Because I think you’ve developed a soft spot for us.”

“Then you are not as observant as you think you are.”

“Aren’t I? Because you seemed upset.”

“I wasn’t upset about that.”

I was upset because it was you.

Sakura groans in frustration. “You know what? Fine. You weren’t upset about that. You’re not upset now.”

“Right.”

“Oh, and while we’re at it, let’s pretend you’re not full of sod, why don’t we?” she goes on. “Because it seems that’s easier than coming out and saying it. With words and everything.”

Sasuke blinks, wondering if he has missed something. “Saying what?”

Sakura sighs and shakes her head, shoulders slumping forward. “Never mind. Here I was, figuring we’d gotten past this…this. But we haven’t. So, tomorrow’s another day, but right now I…oh, forget it!”

And she stomps forward, putting an impressive distance between the two of them considering someone whose legs are much shorter.

Sasuke stares after her, feeling as dazed as he was when hit in the face with Naruto’s doppelgänger’s shield.

“Is there a rule about women not making sense?” he asks out loud to no one in particular.

“Under normal circumstances, yes,” Kakashi answers, appearing by his side as if summoned. “But I think in this case, it is you being an idiot.” Sasuke shoots him an unimpressed side-eye. “I have never seen anyone so bad at reading the signals. That is saying something, considering you supposedly a high-and-mighty, observant assassin.”

“I fail to see the correlation.”

“I always heard the assassins trained in Oto were adept in many skills—especially body language and seduction.”

“You read too many novels,” Sasuke grumbles, tips of his ears burning, because under normal circumstances, it is true. “And I can read signals fine.”

“No, you can’t,” Naruto pipes up, appearing on Sasuke’s other side with a teasing expression on his face. “Because even I noticed it this whole trip. She’s practically been demanding that you…lick her lamppost, if you get my meaning.”

He wiggles his eyebrows and shoots Sasuke a filthy grin which Sasuke retaliates against by lashing out with his foot, tripping the human.

“Bastard!” Naruto chokes through a mouth full of ice and snow.

“Your response is a lot more telling than what he was implying,” Kakashi points out.

“Think what you want,” Sasuke grunts. “The situation is more complicated than either of you fools make it out to be.”

“Complicated? Is it? I do not see how it can be more so than say…threading a needle?”

Sasuke narrows his eyes at the older man, considering the merit of knocking the mage into the snow next.

“I am simply making a suggestion,” Kakashi continues, unbothered by the unspoken threat in the air. “Take a bit of advice from someone who waited far too long to act and missed out on one of the few comforts this brief life affords us.”

“When I want your opinion, I will ask for it.”

“You will not.”

“No, I will not.”

At least they can agree on that.

“Hey! Guys, look!” Sakura calls from up ahead. She is standing on a small hill rise, pointing at something on the horizon. “There’s a town ahead! It looks nice and big—I bet they have a traveller’s inn!”

“And they will no doubt charge a pretty penny for it when they see the desperate state we are in,” Kakashi remarks. “If they are full up, and she wants a room of her own, the three of us will have to share quarters again.

“First one gets his own room!” Naruto shouts, now recovered from his trip in the snow and shoving past Sasuke and Kakashi.

“Halfwit,” Sasuke mutters under his breath, but he takes off after him.

They shoot past a bemused Sakura, who shouts after them—something about short legs and injustice—but Sasuke is too busy overtaking Naruto to care. He exploits every degree of natural light-footedness to speed past the human, not stopping until he reaches the village. He feels no guilt over it, either—a room to himself is a luxury he has not had in a while.

There are a few odd looks in his direction—he is a Dalish elf, and clearly the settlement is human—but he ignores them. Soon, he finds the nearest guesthouse and makes a beeline for it.

As it turns out, there was no need for the contest (despite his own inexplicable satisfaction at beating Naruto) because the inn is all-but empty. The innkeeper informs him there have been no travellers through this part of the kingdom all season. For a modest sum, Sasuke can get four separate rooms for their party.

Ten minutes later, the others arrive, Naruto panting and swearing at him about cheating, while Sakura and Kakashi stroll in afterward.

“You’re both idiots,” Sakura informs them. He thinks she is just bitter she could not keep up with either of them even if she tried.

The innkeeper’s wife takes one horrified look at Sakura—her weapons and gear stained with more blood than any of the others—and declares, “Oh, you poor thing! Let’s get you out of that mess and into a hot bath.”

Which instantly makes Sakura break into the most delighted smile, her earlier irritation gone.

The innkeeper is not so coddling, grunting that there is a hogshead out back for them to use to wash. Then he heads upstairs to stoke the fires in their rooms.

“It’s fucking freezing!” Naruto complains. “Why don’t we get a nice hot bath?”

“Because we are manly men,” Kakashi replies, no trace of a joke in his voice. “And some of us might need a cold wash anyhow.”

Sasuke ignores him. He does not mind the temperature too much at the moment, too pleased at cleaning his skin of the dried blood and viscera. His gear is not in as poor condition as Naruto’s anyhow, considering he did not slice open a Bronto and practically bathe in its innards.

Whatever momentary discomfort he endures cleaning himself in the frigid yard is worth it. W

hen he enters the dining area, one of the serving wenches puts a plate of mulled cider and a hank of roasted rams’ meat in front of him. Animal flesh was never his preferred diet growing up, but occasional bursts of starvation have made him appreciative of most food, whatever its origin. Sasuke offers a silent prayer to Andruil for whatever successful hunt brought him this food and tucks in with gusto. For once he is too busy indulging in his own meal to note Naruto’s sloppy chewing or Kakashi’s increasing inebriation.

At a later point, Sakura joins them, no longer clad in her thick armour but in a dress that looks to have been borrowed from their hostess. It is too long for her, spilling to the floor, and too tight across the bosom. Sasuke tells himself he only noticed this because the garment makes it impossible to hide a weapon, not because of the sight it offers him of her cleavage.

The fact he chokes on his cider when she sits down beside him means nothing.

The serving girl comes by, offering a second helping of supper, and he declines. Days of living on road have shrunken his stomach, and if he eats too much, he will spend the next few hours vomiting and shitting in the snow. Or worse.

(He is confident that is Naruto’s more immediate fate).

“Perhaps later?” she suggests, her black eyes trying to telegraph something to him. “I’ll be working at my chores late, I could…bring it to your room?”

He is vaguely aware of Sakura stiffening beside him but does not know why. He waves the woman away.

“Do not make more work for yourself, I doubt you are well-paid for it,” he replies, standing and preparing to head upstairs. His exhaustion has caught up to him while he was sitting. “My needs have been well-seen to.”

He almost misses the way her eyes flit between him and Sakura.

“Oh! I see. Well then, pay no attention to me,” she says, sounding nervous for whatever reason. “Goodnight, ser.”

Sasuke frowns at her departing back and looks to Sakura. “Did I miss something?”

She looks like she is fighting down a smile.

“If you’re asking me if you’ve missed something, you’re more tired than you look.”

That makes a strange sort of sense, and he nods. “Good night.”

“I hope it will be,” she replies, which has him frowning and puzzling his entire way up to bed. Though he blames his confusion on the fact his eyes kept straying to the low scoop of her collar.

His tiny, private room is little more than a bed and a washbasin, but there is a tiny grate with a crackling fire that offer him a comforting warmth. The cot has a thick featherbed and well-insulated windows to keep out the cold.

It is a matter of minutes to divest himself of his clothes and slip into bed, placing his weapons within easy reach. It is a matter of seconds before he succumbs to a deep and dreamless sleep.

Only to awake with a violent start an indeterminable amount of time later.

The room is dark except for a trickle of moonlight from beyond the closed shutters. For a heartbeat, he is lost, torn from the heaviness of sleep, but his hand reflexively clenches around the dagger beneath his pillow.

Someone is here.

A split second before he can rise and hurl the dagger at the intruder, there is a whisper in the darkness.

“Sasuke-kun?”

It is Sakura.

He loosens his grip on the blade and eases up, his eyes seeking the familiar form of the Warden. The scarce light in his room is more than enough for him to make a detailed study of her form.

His first instinct is to confirm that she is not injured or in distress.  (No midnight attack by enemies, then, which has happened before.) A beat later, he notices there is something open about her in the dark. Something he does not think is entirely because she’s exchanged her usual thick armour for a borrowed woollen nightdress.

There is vulnerability in the way she clutches at the rough downy blanket around her shoulders, her eyes shining at him with something akin to doubt.

“What is it?” he asks, the demand coming out harsher than he intends. But the closer she gets, the faster his heart beats.

Sakura does not offer an answer, instead stepping toward him in the dark before perching on the side of his bed. She continues to watch him, careful and evaluating, opens her mouth to speak, and closes it as if she forgot the words. Then, she bites down on her lip, hesitant, and tilts her head to study him again. 

Sasuke bristles, not used to her lack of forthrightness. It bothers him, seeing her so uncertain and… timid? It goes against what he knows of her. Worse are the unspoken words, hanging there in the air and taunting him with the vast possibility of what they could be. He hates being curious and unprepared, and she is one who excels in making him so.

“Why—?” he begins, only to be cut off when she ducks her head forward and presses her lips against his.

It is a chaste caress, almost a whisper in its delicateness, but he feels as if he has been turned to stone. Thoughts stagger and vanish, a charge like electricity arcing through his body. He does not even dare to breathe as the world narrows to the sensation of her skin touching his and the flutter of her breath against his cheek.

The seconds stretch like days, and she pulls away again. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes continue to gleam at him in the moonlight, though now he can better interpret what is there.

Warmth. Fear. Determination. Desire.

And a question.

She does not speak it though.

At first, he thinks she dreads his answer, especially given her uncharacteristic apprehension.

Then he realises her silence is an offer.

She has come here for a purpose, one which he suspects is somehow not so obvious as the kiss she bestowed upon him, but even more significant. Yet instead of giving voice to that, she waits for his reaction.

He knows that if he were to turn away now, offer his back to her and her proposition, she would disappear from his room and speak no more of this. They can go back to the way of things tomorrow, and when their quest is over, part as only comrades in arms. In the same way he knows if he continues, she will accept whatever restrictions he requires. Even if it is only for tonight.

More terrifying than both options is the third. That if he chooses her—if he says the word, she will bind herself to his side much longer than a night.

On any other woman, he might see this as desperation, a willingness to take whatever scrap of attention he might deign to offer her. But he knows this woman, and desperation is not a brush with which she can be tarred.  

As uncertain as she may be right now, watching for his reaction, her demeanour is calm and accepting. It is a resigned peace Sasuke cannot remember ever experiencing.  And there is something else, something in her gaze he does not think he is ready to understand, but finds he wants.

Perhaps something of that shows in his expression because her eyes soften incrementally and a smile curls at her lips.

She leans forward again, once more pressing her mouth to his, but this time it is more than a whispered hint of what could be. There is substance and force, a resistance that is both a challenge and an invitation. Sasuke allows himself only one more second of hesitation before returning the kiss.

Translation:

Andruil – the huntress; elven goddess of the hunt

Warning, warning: incoming smut! We’ve only been waiting for this the whole fic… 😊

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