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(teamwork) bit of chapter 5, Sasuke POV
I'm so cheating here -- this scene has been done for AGES, and about everyone I talk to over AIM saw it already, I bet. It's also right in the middle of the chapter, so you bypass the whole slow process of Sasuke wangsting about making the decision and go right to the OMFGANGST.
Might change the end so that it fits with a next scene, don't know yet how i'll handle that, but apart from that the scene is very much done and i'm not touching it anymore. ;p
The worst was that nothing had changed at all. Everything was exactly as it had been that night -- except from the corpses and the puddles of blood, but he could remember them so well that it didn't make much of a difference.
There was more dust, and grass poking through the pavement, but ... But. No one had closed this half-open door, no one had righted that overturned display -- not even him.
But right now, he couldn't. If he allowed himself to get sidetracked now, he would never reach his goal.
The sound of his steps rang between the houses; he refused to let himself run, because he wasn't about to admit openly how keyed up he was, and because hearing the echo of his run in these empty streets was asking for a flashback.
He pushed away the aching familiarity, tried to see the district as critically as he could. Left without upkeep for so many years, the houses were in a sad state. He could see cracked walls, broken windows, doors stuck in place as the wood swelled with humidity. But the basic construction was generally sound, and most of the buildings would only need a bit of work to be livable again. There were more and more people moving into Konoha these days, attracted by the growing success and influence of the Village, and if he looked around, maybe he could find people who wouldn't care about what had happened there ten years ago. And if he had regular tenants -- say, four, five families at least -- for houses of such quality, his children would never need to worry about going hungry.
Maybe the echo of new voices would banish the memories. Maybe with other vendors calling to passersby and other grandmas chattering on the square and other children playing in the streets ...
Maybe his own children...
He stopped walking, looking up at the wall marked with his clan's fan -- with the kunai mark still right in the middle -- then turned and stared at the door long and hard before his hand rose to push it open.
His children would play in this street, and run through this door -- dragging toys behind them as they walked out, swinging school bags around when they came back -- his children would...
His children would...
... he couldn't. He couldn't see them here. He could only see the door his father had held open for him when he'd been too small to do it on his own, and the kitchen window through which his mother had waved to him everyday, and the hall -- where he'd greeted his big brother -- the gallery where he'd stubbed his toes so many times, the sliding doors that made that neat noise when snapping closed, and open, and closed, snap!woosh-snap! Sasuke! Will you stop that? And his father's office, forbidden, fascinating territory, the corridor that led to his bedroom, and the other door -- his little hand raised to knock softly -- 'tachi, there's something in my closet ...
He couldn't. He couldn't. He could see nothing but his past in here. Nothing but his pain. As hard as he tried, he couldn't see Naruto napping, sprawled against the ancient, gnarled tree by the little pond, or Sakura walking barefoot under the shade of the galleries. He couldn't see any children but him -- him and Itachi -- and he'd thought he'd decided not to let his past hold him back anymore, but it wasn't as easy as that. Tolerating the Uchiha district again was one thing, so long as he did all he could to make it look different -- paint the houses, plant bushes and trees, knock down a few walls maybe -- but no amount of redecorating would change this place where he'd lived since birth enough to separate it from his memories. No amount of varnish would hide the outlines of two bodies in the dojo, and the dark stains in the wood planks.
He had to -- his teammates-- his family -- they needed a place to live, a place big enough for all of them, and why make it so complicated when it was so simple? He had the house already, they didn't have to spend any money, they just had to move in, that was the perfect solution -- but he couldn't. He had to, and he couldn't. He wasn't even able to suck it up and stop feeling sorry for himself, not even for his future wife, not even for his lover, for their unborn child, for his new family. He was so fucking selfish, and even his disgust at his weakness didn't change a thing. There was just no way he could, and that was it.
Slowly, so slowly, he stepped inside -- unable to help the ingrained habit to pause and take off his sandals -- started walking down the hall -- to the kitchen, he made himself go to the kitchen not to go to his parents' bedroom first; of course there was nothing of importance there, nothing he wanted to keep. The laundry room was the same -- he'd hidden behind that big porcelain sink, had poked at the drying sheets, puzzled by their heaviness -- his mother had smiled, sometimes even laughed -- the corridor was empty but for the paintings on the walls. No sentimental value to these; he took down a few scrolls with beautiful calligraphies and rolled them up, sticking them under his arm -- even water-stained, maybe they would be worth something -- he was stalling again, of course.
He didn't want anything from his bedroom, and nothing in the world would make him step inside his brother's. His father's study looked less imposing -- Sasuke had grown up; the magic was gone. The magic, and that man so serious, so stern, so reserved -- he opened the drawers quickly, efficiently, going through the room in the precise search pattern they'd been taught in class. There were no papers he wanted, except for the Uchiha clan register -- a long, heavy scroll with gold tassels that joined the paintings under his arm. Inadvertently, he knocked a picture frame face down on the desk, and didn't bother righting it up. He wouldn't know what was on it, and it was a blessing, because whoever was on it -- their whole family? Or only Itachi? -- it would hurt. A scroll on advanced Katon jutsus found its way in his belt pouch. Then that was it.
The dojo -- no. No way in hell. Not even if piles of gold and riches were inside.
What else could he want? Clothes? No. Furniture? No way in hell. Knickknacks? Unnecessary. Weapons? He had enough of his own, and his parents had never bothered to put money into bejeweled swords or intricate blades when a plain, simple kunai did the work. As for their Konoha headbands, they were, he supposed, still resting on their tombstones.
With measured steps -- he wasn't going to run out -- he walked toward the exit, calmly stepping back into his sandals, walked out in the garden -- Sakura had said she wanted a pond, but that one was full of green stuff and stank with dead fish and mud -- crossed through the dried beds of flowers, and dumped his findings by the far wall.
Then he turned back to face the house -- his home -- and didn't let his sight blur as he shaped the seals for the first major jutsu he'd ever performed.
As the fire roared through the house, he could hear his father -- as expected, you are my son... -- and his home burned, and the gallery on which he'd sat at Itachi's side -- of course I'm sure that Father loves you, little brother -- blackened, and the windows -- welcome home, Sasuke-chan! So, what did you learn today? -- exploded, and the roof -- hey, how goes, bratling? Is your brother in? -- caved in -- Sasuke-chan? Where are you? --and he could see nothing but fire and smoke and destruction as he blew more and more power into the blaze, and the smoke was harsh and he had to close his eyes and pour even more chakra into the jutsu -- not enough, he could still see -- he could still remember -- and the smoke stung so much, stung his eyes and scratched at his throat -- he couldn't breathe ...
And there were arms around him, strong arms, and a large, solid chest against his back, and he could breathe again, in big, gulping gasps, and soft hands slid behind his nape and pressed his face against a tender neck. He clung to her, hiding in her arms, knowing that the man at his back would keep on clinging to him.
They didn't try to talk, and he was grateful. He didn't want to explode or to break down for a misinterpreted word. He just wanted their presences. He didn't want to have either of them remark on the way the smoke choked him and stung his eyes, because he knew that then it would cease to be smoke and become something infinitely more shameful. If he let go of even an inch more, he'd break, and he wasn't sure he would be able to put himself back together again. So he stayed there, sitting on Naruto's lap and Sakura straddling his own, not caring about the way he'd ended in that position, and he held onto them and they held onto him and finally, finally the past let go.
"Well," Naruto said -- and in his voice there was nothing but his normal good cheer, a hint of stifled laughter, "if you tell us where we can find water here, Sakura can test her new Suiton jutsu."
Sasuke blinked against her skin, feeling his damp eyelashes brush her neck, making her shiver, and they both turned to look at Naruto quizzically. He was grinning, just a touch softer than he usually did, and Sasuke was grateful that he was going to pretend things were okay; maybe Sakura would follow his lead. He didn't want to talk about his feelings, now or ever.
"Why?" she asked, her fingers still playing absently with the strands of hair at Sasuke's nape.
"Well, to stop it before it spreads to the whole district, of course."
And he was grinning so wide, and seemed to find it such a grand joke, that Sasuke almost forgot to jump on his feet and hurry off to put out the blaze.
By the time they'd gotten it under control, they were dirty with soot from head to toes, and frazzled. When the firemen finally noticed the smoke and came to investigate, the three of them were sitting in the garden, on the edge of a great charred pile, and laughing themselves breathless for no reason at all.
Might change the end so that it fits with a next scene, don't know yet how i'll handle that, but apart from that the scene is very much done and i'm not touching it anymore. ;p
The worst was that nothing had changed at all. Everything was exactly as it had been that night -- except from the corpses and the puddles of blood, but he could remember them so well that it didn't make much of a difference.
There was more dust, and grass poking through the pavement, but ... But. No one had closed this half-open door, no one had righted that overturned display -- not even him.
But right now, he couldn't. If he allowed himself to get sidetracked now, he would never reach his goal.
The sound of his steps rang between the houses; he refused to let himself run, because he wasn't about to admit openly how keyed up he was, and because hearing the echo of his run in these empty streets was asking for a flashback.
He pushed away the aching familiarity, tried to see the district as critically as he could. Left without upkeep for so many years, the houses were in a sad state. He could see cracked walls, broken windows, doors stuck in place as the wood swelled with humidity. But the basic construction was generally sound, and most of the buildings would only need a bit of work to be livable again. There were more and more people moving into Konoha these days, attracted by the growing success and influence of the Village, and if he looked around, maybe he could find people who wouldn't care about what had happened there ten years ago. And if he had regular tenants -- say, four, five families at least -- for houses of such quality, his children would never need to worry about going hungry.
Maybe the echo of new voices would banish the memories. Maybe with other vendors calling to passersby and other grandmas chattering on the square and other children playing in the streets ...
Maybe his own children...
He stopped walking, looking up at the wall marked with his clan's fan -- with the kunai mark still right in the middle -- then turned and stared at the door long and hard before his hand rose to push it open.
His children would play in this street, and run through this door -- dragging toys behind them as they walked out, swinging school bags around when they came back -- his children would...
His children would...
... he couldn't. He couldn't see them here. He could only see the door his father had held open for him when he'd been too small to do it on his own, and the kitchen window through which his mother had waved to him everyday, and the hall -- where he'd greeted his big brother -- the gallery where he'd stubbed his toes so many times, the sliding doors that made that neat noise when snapping closed, and open, and closed, snap!woosh-snap! Sasuke! Will you stop that? And his father's office, forbidden, fascinating territory, the corridor that led to his bedroom, and the other door -- his little hand raised to knock softly -- 'tachi, there's something in my closet ...
He couldn't. He couldn't. He could see nothing but his past in here. Nothing but his pain. As hard as he tried, he couldn't see Naruto napping, sprawled against the ancient, gnarled tree by the little pond, or Sakura walking barefoot under the shade of the galleries. He couldn't see any children but him -- him and Itachi -- and he'd thought he'd decided not to let his past hold him back anymore, but it wasn't as easy as that. Tolerating the Uchiha district again was one thing, so long as he did all he could to make it look different -- paint the houses, plant bushes and trees, knock down a few walls maybe -- but no amount of redecorating would change this place where he'd lived since birth enough to separate it from his memories. No amount of varnish would hide the outlines of two bodies in the dojo, and the dark stains in the wood planks.
He had to -- his teammates-- his family -- they needed a place to live, a place big enough for all of them, and why make it so complicated when it was so simple? He had the house already, they didn't have to spend any money, they just had to move in, that was the perfect solution -- but he couldn't. He had to, and he couldn't. He wasn't even able to suck it up and stop feeling sorry for himself, not even for his future wife, not even for his lover, for their unborn child, for his new family. He was so fucking selfish, and even his disgust at his weakness didn't change a thing. There was just no way he could, and that was it.
Slowly, so slowly, he stepped inside -- unable to help the ingrained habit to pause and take off his sandals -- started walking down the hall -- to the kitchen, he made himself go to the kitchen not to go to his parents' bedroom first; of course there was nothing of importance there, nothing he wanted to keep. The laundry room was the same -- he'd hidden behind that big porcelain sink, had poked at the drying sheets, puzzled by their heaviness -- his mother had smiled, sometimes even laughed -- the corridor was empty but for the paintings on the walls. No sentimental value to these; he took down a few scrolls with beautiful calligraphies and rolled them up, sticking them under his arm -- even water-stained, maybe they would be worth something -- he was stalling again, of course.
He didn't want anything from his bedroom, and nothing in the world would make him step inside his brother's. His father's study looked less imposing -- Sasuke had grown up; the magic was gone. The magic, and that man so serious, so stern, so reserved -- he opened the drawers quickly, efficiently, going through the room in the precise search pattern they'd been taught in class. There were no papers he wanted, except for the Uchiha clan register -- a long, heavy scroll with gold tassels that joined the paintings under his arm. Inadvertently, he knocked a picture frame face down on the desk, and didn't bother righting it up. He wouldn't know what was on it, and it was a blessing, because whoever was on it -- their whole family? Or only Itachi? -- it would hurt. A scroll on advanced Katon jutsus found its way in his belt pouch. Then that was it.
The dojo -- no. No way in hell. Not even if piles of gold and riches were inside.
What else could he want? Clothes? No. Furniture? No way in hell. Knickknacks? Unnecessary. Weapons? He had enough of his own, and his parents had never bothered to put money into bejeweled swords or intricate blades when a plain, simple kunai did the work. As for their Konoha headbands, they were, he supposed, still resting on their tombstones.
With measured steps -- he wasn't going to run out -- he walked toward the exit, calmly stepping back into his sandals, walked out in the garden -- Sakura had said she wanted a pond, but that one was full of green stuff and stank with dead fish and mud -- crossed through the dried beds of flowers, and dumped his findings by the far wall.
Then he turned back to face the house -- his home -- and didn't let his sight blur as he shaped the seals for the first major jutsu he'd ever performed.
As the fire roared through the house, he could hear his father -- as expected, you are my son... -- and his home burned, and the gallery on which he'd sat at Itachi's side -- of course I'm sure that Father loves you, little brother -- blackened, and the windows -- welcome home, Sasuke-chan! So, what did you learn today? -- exploded, and the roof -- hey, how goes, bratling? Is your brother in? -- caved in -- Sasuke-chan? Where are you? --and he could see nothing but fire and smoke and destruction as he blew more and more power into the blaze, and the smoke was harsh and he had to close his eyes and pour even more chakra into the jutsu -- not enough, he could still see -- he could still remember -- and the smoke stung so much, stung his eyes and scratched at his throat -- he couldn't breathe ...
And there were arms around him, strong arms, and a large, solid chest against his back, and he could breathe again, in big, gulping gasps, and soft hands slid behind his nape and pressed his face against a tender neck. He clung to her, hiding in her arms, knowing that the man at his back would keep on clinging to him.
They didn't try to talk, and he was grateful. He didn't want to explode or to break down for a misinterpreted word. He just wanted their presences. He didn't want to have either of them remark on the way the smoke choked him and stung his eyes, because he knew that then it would cease to be smoke and become something infinitely more shameful. If he let go of even an inch more, he'd break, and he wasn't sure he would be able to put himself back together again. So he stayed there, sitting on Naruto's lap and Sakura straddling his own, not caring about the way he'd ended in that position, and he held onto them and they held onto him and finally, finally the past let go.
"Well," Naruto said -- and in his voice there was nothing but his normal good cheer, a hint of stifled laughter, "if you tell us where we can find water here, Sakura can test her new Suiton jutsu."
Sasuke blinked against her skin, feeling his damp eyelashes brush her neck, making her shiver, and they both turned to look at Naruto quizzically. He was grinning, just a touch softer than he usually did, and Sasuke was grateful that he was going to pretend things were okay; maybe Sakura would follow his lead. He didn't want to talk about his feelings, now or ever.
"Why?" she asked, her fingers still playing absently with the strands of hair at Sasuke's nape.
"Well, to stop it before it spreads to the whole district, of course."
And he was grinning so wide, and seemed to find it such a grand joke, that Sasuke almost forgot to jump on his feet and hurry off to put out the blaze.
By the time they'd gotten it under control, they were dirty with soot from head to toes, and frazzled. When the firemen finally noticed the smoke and came to investigate, the three of them were sitting in the garden, on the edge of a great charred pile, and laughing themselves breathless for no reason at all.
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.. putain, ma main me fait mal. je veux écrire, merde T_T
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(Now I wonder whether they're going to do the dramatic thing of rebuilding a new house on that spot or the pragmatic thing of moving into one of the cousins' houses...)
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both. XD moving in another house in the meantime, and rebuilding because it means something to sasuke even though he really hates being anything but pragmatic.
... also, he did visit some of the cousins' houses before, and for him they will always be the cousins' houses. ;p
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jealous me? no, not jealous. even despite the disturbing lack of OMGSEXYFREAK!itachi in Saki-chan's universe... and that was a bunny i didn't need. oww my brain.)no subject
Uhhh...
(sweatdrop)
all the variations on strawberries and springtime that I'm coming up with sound like Gai's going to be a major player, and the poor kids are (going to be) traumatized enough already...
--OH! Got it!
"Oversight."
Both in terms of Saki-sensei overseeing the kids and everyone else making the oversight of not explaining about Saki-sensei to the kids during any of the mission briefings... yeah, I think I like that one...
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now i just have to add all the pics and then i can upload. omg i ded. x_x
Wow
Please give us more!!
Re: Wow
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Oh, poor Sasuke. *hugs him* What a painful thing to have to do. But he was right, he couldn't have lived in that house.
Plenty of other houses they can use. *nodsnods*
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Sasuke is a masochist like that. we can always count on yummy angst with him. ;p
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well, the chapter is supposed to lead to him accepting support, but hnn, it's not writing itself like that. i hope i won't have to change anything to make it fit, i like it the way it is ;_;
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"OMFGANGST" indeed. O.O
I agree with the above gushes, the emotions and reactions in this were really quite believeable. No matter how much time passes, the massacre isn't something Sasuke is ever going to forget. Unfortunately, he isn't the type that talking about it and how he feels will help... it would just make it more immediate than it already is, make the need to kill Itachi become something that must be done NOW, instead of something that can wait. He has a family to worry about, or will soon, and he can't be running off after Itachi and getting himself killed. Especially since we KNOW Naruto and Sakura will go after him and Sakura really shouldn't be making that trip.
Um... yeah, that was a ramble. ^.^ You get the idea, though. Plus, having Sasuke accept them so easily like that speaks for exactly how strongly he feels for them and what they mean to him. It was a subtle scene, but made me smile and do little cheers for Naruto and Sakura knowing exactly what NOT to say. ^___^
Re: "OMFGANGST" indeed. O.O
... stop reading my notes over my shoulder, y0.XD*loveloveloves on you*
Ah, frankly, I think they were both WTF-ing at the beginning and looking at each other all panicked over sasuke's head XD but yay for figuring out that he wasn't going to talk about his feelings.
Re: "OMFGANGST" indeed. O.O
*mwahahahaha* I seem to be doing that to a lot of people (read:3) lately.
Okay, yeah, I can see it now. Kiyakotari (further down the comments) said it best. *LOL* It would explain why Naruto was on the verge of lauging. ^.^
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Saaasuuukeee ;_______; *criiiies*
Plus serieusement(XD), je pense que c'est un de tes chapitres les mieux écrits, tous fics confondus...j'ai étouffé avec Sasuke. (et l'arrivée de Naruto et Sakura, aww ;_;)
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♥ lovely angst. I love angst with an happy ending, even if they still have their issues.
I prefer that they still have their issues, too.no subject
Best work you've done so far on Teamwork, if you ask me. Sakura and Naruto to the rescue at the end struck some kind of chord with me. The happymushyawwww kind. XD And yay for insane laughter when the firefighters show up.
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**grins** And I can so see the looks on their faces (over his head) once they got him settled between them: "You talk..." "No, you ask!" "Oh, FUCK no! I'm not asking, you ask!" "You do it!" "NO, you do it!" "Listen...Let's...just sit....and let him...er....decide...you know..." "Yeah...yeah, okay, that'll work."
^___^ And all without words....just looks.
**snickers**
I loved it, of course, but that's pretty much a given, so..yeah. **shrugs**
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*likes the position they end up in* looks like we know who's uke to who there.... *loveson angsting!Sasuke*
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Fires
(Anonymous) 2005-10-04 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)Moving on, I really, REALLY loved it, and can't wait for the chapter to be posted. I lurk around here pretty regularly to see what wonderful things you shall create next and am never disappointed.
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He probably shouldn't have tried to come in by himself -- but then again, Sasuke is too focused on trying to do everything by himself, not just because his issues have issues, but because he's a Teenage Guy.
And of course they were laughing. They've just been hit with levels of three different hormones, and at that point it takes next to nothing to set you off, and pain shared is pain lessened but joy shared is joy increased --
You know, it probably says something about me that Naruto gives me an irresistible desire to quote Harper Lee or Spider Robinson.
Anyway, I liked this. Made me think.
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Damn but I love your writing style!!
The way you let his emotions seamlessly weave into the scene, while keeping him in his trademark denial... His breakdown was so powerful, and the support his mates offered filled me with warm and fuzzy feelings!
Did I mention that I adore your team 7? :D *will patiently wait for more*
(And by the way, how can I send you saki gift art -surprise surprise-, is it ok to just give you the link to the entry I posted it? Or should I send the image by e-mail? *is dorkish*)
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EEE saki-chan!! email or post and then link, whatever you prefer. *is happy with both* *happyhappy*
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She is such a source of inspiration! Here is the link, http://www.livejournal.com/users/momma_earth/1694.html#cutid1 hope you like it even a little bit... :)
Ermmm... Would you mind if I friended you? *blushes*
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/dazed
You do such an amazing job of getting inside your characters heads.
I also loved Naruto's reaction^^
/pets
it was wonderful
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Have you ever wondered what exactly happened to the Konoha police force after the Uchihas were killed? I mean, since I vaguely remember something about Sasuke's dad being someone important on the force...
Great chapter!