#sassuke

NaruSasu, 2025, digital art.

The last time he and Sasuke had met, it had been in an embittered clash as they fought for and against the fate of the world that Madara was hellbent on seeing to fruition as some bastardized notion of a shepherd. Months had passed since then, and by the Will Manifestation he wasn’t known to have, he’d been able to manifest a Shadow Clone capable of finding its way through the prison complex beneath the Intelligence Division and locate his great-grandson whom his heart ached to see.

The elder Uchiha manifested as an amorphous shadow before stabilizing into a human shape, emerging from some sharp angle of shade and locate the boy’s cell he was being held prisoner in, a soft, remorseful sigh sounding. 

“I’m likely the last person you want here, but... I just needed to come, Sasuke-kun.”

Rebuilding the entire Uchiha Compound by himself. . That was Sasuke’s goal.  Had Rock Li still been the same hot-blooded, brash individual that Sasuke met as a teen, he would have commended Sasuke got such an incredible goal to accomplish! But as an adult whose hot-bloodedness had cooled just a bit, he worried for the Uchiha.  It was a very large task— One that may take him many, many years.  And may cost him very enjoyable experiences, such as spending time with loved ones or going on long journeys.  

“Why is it that you want to do it entirely on your own?” He tilts his head to the side slightly, brows furrowed, bangs in his eyes.  “Do you not worry that you will miss out on other life experiences?”

"Huh? No, everything's fine. Just focus on resting, Sasuke-kun." Except, was it, really? In the hours since the formal end of the war had seen the kunoichi pass out for two days straight, only to awaken to a bevy of work after she'd recovered from her chakra exhaustion. Focusing on refilling her Byakugo was like a metronome in the face of the unforeseen consequences of the war, one being seeing the Uchiha up and active once his arm had cauterized and largely finished healing in an emergency procedure she and Shizune had done that both had completed to ensure Naruto and Sasuke's severed arms wouldn't become infected from being improperly treated.

Somehow, whenever she was within close proximity to Sasuke, she couldn't help how she avoided his eyes or flinched whenever he came near, or spoke. Every encounter was punctuated by the memory of the genjutsu he'd induced on her, of the visceral feeling of his entire hand impaled through her chest that still caused her to wake up in a cold sweat, biting some part of her wrist to prevent herself from waking up people in the shared tent screaming.

“Oh, um... thank you.”

Ever since the end of their catastrophic Wave Country mission, Sakura felt changed. She didn’t know in what way, but something about the trauma that had culminated to Naruto’s declaration at Haku and Zabuza’s graves had shifted her focus. From idolizing the textbook definition of being a ninja to truly understanding the balance between its brutality and inhumanity, to keeping your sense of self through it all... Well, needless to say, it’d inspired her.

To hone what little she did have in her repertoire, like Inner Sakura, some genjutsu, her mind, setting traps and shurikenjutsu... It wasn’t much, but having areas to focus on was better than nothing. That afternoon, from morning had Sakura doggedly been focusing on target practice with shuriken and kunai on Training Ground 3 that had become Team 7′s haunt. Bulls eyes scattered on hay-stuffed dummies and marked on random trees were all studded with projectiles and varying degree of accuracy, until Sasuke had joined her half an hour ago, relegated to simply observing her.

He was the one who’d said she dragged down the team by her mediocrity, after all, and it had lit a fire under her butt. Hell, that juxtaposed to the water he offered her from a canteen was delicately taken with arms that shook from exertion, Sakura taking a ginger sip.