s-asuke:

SasuSaku Month 2017 – Day 4 – Lean On Me

Warnings: indirect PTSD, portrayal of night terrors.

Fellas, I wanted this to be short and sweet!! Enjoy!!

“Nii-san! Nii-san! Look at this bird!” A small, chubby child is skipping over a strong tree root, carefree and bewildered by the bird of fluffy, brown feathers, tinged with a daring yellow.

“It’s beautiful Sasuke. Did you hurt it?” The elder child has the eyes of an ancient remnant, like the relative of the family that talks to woods, spirits, and rarely to humans. “Of course not Nii-san! I would never hurt it!“The smaller, wood-woven child, hair and eyes akin to the ones of the elder, color of crow’s feathers, eyes coal and flamboyant remnant of ash.

"Sasuke… let’s go back home…” The older boy becomes alert of something younger one can sense. “But Nii-sa-”

“Sasuke.” It’s a calm interruption, nearly terrifying for such a young soul. The younger’s eyes are open wide, his small, fragile hand picking up the bird. He only ever wanted to spend time with his big brother. Large eyes fill with soft, warm tears which mesh and mold on the curve of his eyelid. He will never let them fall.

The scene shifts.

The smaller boy is in a house – not his – colder, checking a stray cupboard. It’s all so disgusting – revolting, forbidden. He is raiding an another house for money, the Third said that everything the Uchiha once possesed, is now his. He wants to cry. There’s a stain – a big bloodstain. He just blinks furiously at it, hoping it will dissapear, hoping it was all a HORRIBLE GENJUTSU BROTHER WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS WHAT WRONG DID THEY DO YOU BROTHER BROTHER NO

The pain just doesn’t stop. It… ebbs… slowly… he’s grateful once again, as he is crying on the floor, for the hatred that accumulates in him, the suffering and loneliness, because he will be the one to avenge them: he will be the one to set them free as the blood moon rises once again and he remembers the harshness of multiple Tsukuyomi… how cruel his eyes seem when decorated with the cursed Mangekyou Sharingan, and how there is something watery on the paper? Pavement? What? When did he grip the money and started running out of the house, stumbling through the Uchiha district.

When did his small hands that once gripped the dying bird, passing it over to his caring mother, reach over to the doorhandle, opening the wretched house, with nobody to come home to, say hello to, give dango, or a change of clothes, or newspapers to?

In the middle of the Hokage office he somehow entered is a boy – the older one, whose whole body looks more fragile than that of a dying bird; and he is bloody, looking like an ugly God, marred with the aftermath of wars.

“Sasuke. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I wanted to come.” Small child is so insecure as the elder brother looms over him, he’s significantly taller than him now.

“Please, leave. You are not supposed to know about this; you know the risk.”

“Nii-san, just please-”

“Tsukuyomi!”

Cold. Ice cold sweat is all Sasuke wakes up to.

That, and a hysterical woman.

She seems like a beauty straight out of his dreams – for a nanosecond, until all his senses come to him and he realizes she is calling his name, wanting him to get a grip on himself.

He really tries to.

Rising, he admiteddly worsens his dizzyness caused by the nightmare, crushing her into his arms.

Pink. Fresh-scented. Lime and sweet corn. Skin slightly salty, pleasantly warm from sleep. Breasts soft, the ones he wants to fall asleep on when the fear passes.

“Sssh, Sasuke-kun, I’m here, you’re alright, it’s fine. Ssh…” They just rock, seemingly pointless, but it calms all the waves of Sasuke’s torn mind, his silent storm being in raw pain that ends up swallowing him, but not before Sakura’s hand touches his face, that one touch gentler than the world has been to him his entire life times trillion, pulling him away from darkness. Her legs locking his thighs in place – eyes confident and clear, as she allows him to grip her harder – to lean and depend on her strength and warmth completely.

“Sasuke-kun…”, she whispers after a small infinity, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He growls, angry and hurt, like a wild tiger, clawing on edges of sanity. Anger arises and replaces fear and smaller, softer emotions. He turns into a hurricane, shoving himself into the crook of Sakura’s neck, breathing heavily as his haze still hasn’t calmed down.

Being a user of a Sharingan has terrifying downsides; photographic memory one possesses leaves indentations in one’s brain. Sasuke’s memories and horrors he saw are worse than most – yet he lives his life normally.

Tries to, really.

Sakura’s presence, warm existence that proves him that he is alive and well, he is good still, he survived, is such a relief that something akin to unadulterated happiness surges through him. He releases her, wanting to smile up at her, an honest smile, but only a dry expression stays, her sunny expression awaiting on the other side of the stare.

His Sun is there the next morning, too.

She will wear his mark, his clan’s crest, as of tomorrow.

roraewrites:

[ sasusaku month – day 5: blood, sweat and tears ]

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Sakura’s rounds at the hospital had become longer and tiring after the war. Even with Tsunade down, Sakura continued to show up day after day to help clean up the mess that was created. She finds that some of her patients had lost a limb, or suffered from flashbacks, and even though she tries her hardest, there’s some that she’ll never be able to heal. 

One of those patients is Sasuke Uchiha; the boy who turned to darkness for guidance and lost his way on the path to revenge. After the war, both him and Naruto had been rushed to the hospital immediately and put under care of the most respectable medics. 

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