Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Regret Not A Thing ❯ Ch. 27: Our Defining Moments ( Chapter 27 )

Regret Not A Thing

By Mizerable

 

 

 

Ch. 27: Our Defining Moments

 

 

There was no sound left, no color.

 

None of that rushing blood ringing in their ears. It was like each suffered their own deaths after hearing those words. How were they supposed to carry on from here? How could anyone keep living?

 

Their one great hope, the boy they'd all believed was their future, was gone gone gone.

 

“He'll never forgive me,” Sakura finally spoke with whispered, broken words, “Sasuke-kun will never forgive me for this.”

 

Nor would I want him to.

 

She thought of the long four years that had come to pass. All that hard work she'd put in. The vow she'd made to herself to never let her precious people suffer again. Yet she still came up short. Still failed in the end.

 

I'll never forgive myself, either.

 

“Don't say that!” Ino shouted, tears slipping from her chin, “It's not your fault! It—Naruto, he—!”

 

“Ino, get back!” Kankurou yelled.

 

Shino took Ino and Hinata both by the arm and hauled them backwards a few steps as a hand reached through the opening in the rubble.

 

“Ah, so here you are!”

 

A man climbed through clad completely in black, save for an odd orange mask with a space for only one eye.

 

“Identify yourself,” Shino stepped in front of the girls.

 

“Me? I'm Tobi,” Madara lied smoothly, “I'm, err, kinda the new guy.”

 

Sakura narrowed her eyes, letting her heartache brew into brilliant anger. This guy hadn't been in the notes Sasuke had left for them. It made her anxious to even contemplate what this unknown might be capable of. Not that it would stop her from taking action. She felt she understood Sasuke a bit better in this one moment. Understood that pulsing drive of vengeance.

 

“So,” “Tobi” spoke cheerfully, “When are you gonna let Sasuke out to play?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Lee hoped this “Tobi” didn't call his bluff, “He's already on his way back to Konoha.”

 

“It's not nice to lie,” he chided, laughing to himself at the irony of it all, “You've got him hidden inside the puppet that guy's carrying.”

 

Kankurou shifted Black Ant uneasily, the weight of it suddenly growing heavier against his back.

 

“You,” Sakura pulled away from Lee and stood on wobbly legs, “What the hell do you want from Sasuke-kun?!”

 

“Time.”

 

* * *

 

But the view now wasn't that of the darkened cave. It was of a porch at sunset. But more importantly, it was the porch of the Uchiha estate where two brothers once sat and discussed just what being siblings meant for them.

 

And now they found themselves seated there again, looking not a day older than they had been that day all those long years ago.

 

Sasuke, a small child again, glanced at his older brother but didn't speak. He listened to the ring of a wind chime, watched the sinking sun cast a deep orange glow against his brother's face.

 

“You're not supposed to be here, you know,” Itachi's voice was soft, warm.

 

“Trying to ditch me again?” Sasuke scowled childishly, earning a chuckle from his brother.

 

“Not exactly,” a pause, “Though I imagine after this, I won't be seeing you for a long while.”

 

“You were wrong, brother,” Sasuke seemed to ignore him as he stared at the cracked wall across the street, “Hating you didn't make me any stronger.”

 

Sasuke looked to his brother again and found him wearing his Anbu uniform.

 

“I know I didn't make things easy for you…” Itachi admitted.

 

“What made me stronger, what really kept me going was…” Sasuke stumbled awkwardly over his words, seemed to want to say one thing, but spoke of something else, “…I never really hated you. No matter how many times I thought I'd be better off if I had.”

 

The sun dipped lower on the horizon.

 

“You're going to be late,” Itachi pointed out, almost growing cold and defensive, as his Akatsuki robe replaced his Anbu gear.

 

Sasuke hopped off the ledge, his expression that same hopeful, nervous face he always wore as a child.

 

“I wish,” he kept his eyes lowered, a long-forgotten nervous habit, “That we could have just a little more time.”

 

“Forgive me, Sasuke,” a poke to the forehead, “But this is our last time.”

 

There was an odd smile playing at Itachi's lips. Sasuke didn't think he'd ever seen such a resigned expression before.

 

Sasuke shifted into the young man he now was, just as Itachi looked as he had before that last fight. Itachi had turned away and made to go inside. But he hesitated in the doorway.

 

“The question I asked you, at the end…Is your answer still the same?”

 

Sasuke smiled faintly, a gentle turning at the corner of his mouth. Resigned.

 

“Every word of it.”

 

Itachi nodded once in approval. Sasuke opened his mouth as if to speak, but could scarcely think of what to say at a time like this. Or rather, he thought of too many things but didn't have the time for any of it. So he said goodbye the only way he knew how.

 

“Brother,” a lump settled heavy in his throat, “Thank you.”

 

And then he never looked back. Knew if he did, he would follow Itachi in this as well. He raced through the empty Clan district, through that ghost town of a village, past wooded training areas where targets for kunai practice adorned the trees, to the banks of the Nagano River. He slid aside the seventh tatami mat with practiced ease and stumbled down the darkened stairs in his haste. It was dark and damp in here, the torches unlit.

 

“I've never asked anyone for anything,” his voiced echoed hollow through the dark, “I've always tried to make my own way in the world, no matter the cost. But I can't do this alone.”

 

He dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead against the cold stone.

 

“I'm not such a fool as to force you to help me. I'm not asking you to submit to me, nor am I trying to own you,” he could feel his voice crack, “But, please, for just this once…”

 

The torches abruptly roared to life.

 

“Insolent brat,” the Kyuubi's voice was deafening, “I've no need for your whining.”

 

* * *

 

Kankurou jerked forward a step as the latches of his puppet unlocked and the weight he'd been carrying was suddenly absent.

 

Sasuke stood with his head bowed, hair shielding his face.

 

“Sasuke-kun,” Sakura murmured as her eyes darted between him and “Tobi.” She knew there was no way he was up for a fight. Even after all the work she and Hinata had managed, it was still going to require a lot of time before he made a full recovery. And for him to be thrown into something like this, against an enemy they knew nothing about, especially after Naruto…

 

“Sasuke-kun, you have to run—!”

 

“Wow, I didn't think you'd be up and about yet!” Tobi cut her off and maintained his seemingly unthreatening demeanor.

 

“Cut the bullshit,” Sasuke's voice was rough, graveled, “Acting as if I don't know exactly who you are.”

 

“Oh?” Tobi's body flickered once before appearing in front of Sasuke, “And just who do you suppose I am?”

 

He likened it to a chess game, as he stared at the black and white landscape. The banks of the Nagano seemed to stretch on past the horizon. Fair enough, he thought to himself. I'll concede the first move to you. I always preferred to play black, anyway.

 

“I guess I shouldn't be very surprised,” he commented dryly, “That you learned Tsukiyomi.”

 

“I suppose I've got you to thank for it,” Sasuke replied flatly, his features blank.

 

“But do you really think this will work on me?” he sneered, “As if an amateur like you—”

 

“—Could defeat the man that obtained eternity?” Sasuke interrupted, “I told you, didn't I? I know everything about you.”

 

“Ah…Itachi-kun figured it out, did he?”

 

“Perhaps. But I didn't hear about it from him,” Sasuke spoke in chilled tones, “Shisui of the Mirage grew up as a promising Uchiha and was probably one of the strongest mix of genjutsu and henge ever created in order for you to deceive the Clan you founded. Even now you played the bumbling fool of the Akatsuki as an attempt to get the others to drop their guard. You've created all these names and personas to suit your needs…As your greatest skill has always been manipulation, hasn't it, Madara?”

 

Madara's reaction was a faintly amused snort.

 

“I should have known…And to think I actually believed he kept you alive for something more useful than to offer up a history lesson. A shame, really. That fool of a brother of yours could have had anything he wanted, had he stayed by my side.”

 

“Who's to say he didn't gain exactly what he sought?” Sasuke retorted.

 

“A laughable thought. He was too spineless to accomplish anything.”

 

Sasuke forced himself not to rise to the bait. He needed to make sure he maintained complete control over the jutsu. Though his fingers twitched at his side.

 

“Robbing you of Izanagi certainly worked in his favor.”

 

There was a low hiss of breath behind the mask as Madara instinctively reached towards where his left eye should have been.

 

“For you to even know its name…” Madara's voice became a sharpened blade as he removed his mask.

 

Such information was not even left in the Nagano Shrine. How did this boy learn of it?

 

“The Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan…With the `gift' of your own brother's eyes, you defied blindness and even death. Izanagi kept your body from aging, while Izanami granted you an unparalleled space-time jutsu to avoid incurring any injuries. While you certainly can be killed, you've basically come as close to being immortal as one can get…Have I left something out?”

 

“Fool as he may have been, it appears Orochimaru had been right to think you would surpass Itachi.”

 

Sasuke merely scowled. That really wasn't it at all. His time with Orochimaru taught him plenty about that man. Now, more than ever, it was painfully obvious the old snake had “settled” for Sasuke since Itachi's abilities were far beyond Orochimaru's scope. And…

 

My brother was neither weak, nor a fool. He simply could not let go of that bond of friendship that he believed he shared with “Shisui.” He wasn't a failure. He was human.

 

“I must say I'm curious, though,” Madara's mouth pulled into a smirk behind the mask as his confidence grew, “How exactly did you put it all together?”

 

“Kyuubi has a long memory.”

 

Madara allowed himself a bark of laughter at that.

 

“That furball? How kind of it to impart some final knowledge before it died,” Madara paused to savor the moment. He wanted to let the confusion and fear trickle into the mind of the boy in front of him. It should be enough to get rid of the pesky genjutsu, “Or didn't you know that miserable creature has since departed this world? It appears not even the legendary Kyuubi could stick around after its host got killed…”

 

Of course, things like the Kyuubi didn't stay dead. Maybe not this year, maybe even a hundred years from now, but a being made of pure chakra such as that always returned to this realm of existence. And Madara fully intended to be there when it happened.

 

The world around him seemed to flicker for a moment and he could not help but feel smug about it.

 

That certainly seemed to get your attention.

 

“So what purpose does any of this even serve now, Sasuke-kun?” Madara taunted. It wouldn't take much to shake free of Tsukiyomi at this rate. “Say you even manage to kill me. Your brother will still be dead. That jinchuuriki boy you're so fond of will still be dead. Not to mention you are, by all accounts, still a criminal in Konoha's eyes. Nothing you do now will change any of that…What are you trying to accomplish?”

 

Sasuke scoffed, head bowed now as it had been in the real world.

 

“Don't be stupid” his voice was eerily calm, “If you ever knew anything about me, you'd know I've always lived for a single purpose.”

 

And then Sasuke vanished. Madara had no time to feel out where he went. There was no sound here, no movement of air. Not without Sasuke's allowance. Time itself was controlled by Sasuke's whim. The only warning he received of Sasuke's approach was a hand around his throat. Even with his head shoved under the dark water, even though the heaviness of the Nagano River weighed down around him, he could hear Sasuke's voice as clearly as if the boy were growling in his ear.

 

“I am an avenger.”

 

There was a struggle. If one could call it that. Madara thought absently of how he should be angrier about this as the grip tightened around his neck. To have underestimated this child's abilities and allowed himself to be ensnared in the world of Tsukiyomi so easily. A world where the victim had no power. Where the strength anyone held in reality meant nothing.

 

He wondered if the Kyuubi had felt magnanimous enough to grant this boy any favors before it faded out.

 

He thought, briefly, of Hashirama of the Senju Clan. The First Hokage. The man who became his greatest rival. At the end of their battle, despite Madara's belief that his superior knowledge of jutsu and all things pertaining to war guaranteed victory, he still lost. Before Hashirama thought him dead, he'd had words to say. That all the power in the world meant very little if a man fought only for himself. A person needed someone or something to protect. Needed to keep getting up, no matter the odds, to fight on behalf of those who he vowed to keep safe.

 

At the time, Madara had thought this so-called “Will of Fire” was utter nonsense.

 

“Pride goeth before the fall,” huh?

 

Beneath the black flow of water, Madara could faintly make out the red ripples of the full moon looming overhead. And for a moment, just a brief flicker really, he thought he saw a figure standing behind Sasuke. An old friend, perhaps.

 

Perhaps.

 

I suppose you got what you wanted, after all. Right, Itachi-kun…?

 

* * *

 

The events that took place in real-time told a different story to the onlookers. The others watched fretfully as the masked man moved to stand before Sasuke, heard his taunts, and a single breath before Sasuke's hand was around his enemy's throat.

 

They saw the man who called himself Tobi rip his mask away as water gushed from his mouth. Gasping and drowning with no water in sight. They only caught a glimpse of his face, so briefly, they all wondered in private shock if they imagined his sole eye to be the Sharingan. But that was before his features were consumed in a burst of black flame.

 

And again there was no sound. There were no screams or rasping gulps of air from their enemy. No crackling pop of fire as he burned. He simply burned.

 

The world seemed to catch up with itself as Sasuke staggered one, two steps to the side before his body buckled. He collapsed with none of the grace one would expect of him, legs folding awkwardly under his body, his hand instinctively covering his left eye.

 

It ached. Different than the pain he expected of it, but it ached all the same.

 

It made him think of his brother.

 

Though that thought ached differently now, too. Somehow the edges didn't feel quite so sharp…

 

Arms slithered their way around him from behind and he forced himself to remain still. To remain unafraid. This was not Sound. Those arms were not—

 

“You really are…annoying,” he finally panted out.

 

Sakura made some sort of hysterical sound caught between laughing and bawling; her cheek pressed firmly between his shoulder blades.

 

“You,” she hiccupped between sobs, “you stupid, reckless boys!”

 

His whole body felt sluggish. He ought to be used to this, he surmised grimly, but he felt off. Saying he felt “more off” than usual wouldn't have been accurate. But he definitely felt like something had changed. He didn't have the wherewithal to think about it right now. He forced himself to turn in her grasp, enough to take away his shaky hand away from his face and smooth her hair.

 

It felt grimy and matted. Blood. She was shaking horribly under his touch.

 

It was a seemingly involuntary reaction when his eyes, both of them, opened all the way. Even the dim light of the cavern stung. His vision was tunneled but he found himself caring very little about the odds of his going blind. The reality of the situation he was in finally started catching up to him. That he'd used the Mangekyou Sharingan without a second thought. Well, Amaterasu hadn't had any thought behind it. It seemed to just…burn itself into existence without him even having to will it so. He fleetingly thought that his initial assessment of going blind might actually hold some merit.

 

He shouldn't have had the strength to use both attacks. The damned disease of a curse should have killed him twice over before he'd ever have been able to pull off those two jutsu.

 

But then it hit him full force.

 

He could not feel the pull of the curse seal in his left eye.

 

His gaze inadvertently tracked to his left arm. It felt weak, fingers twitching sporadically, muscles undoubtedly atrophied. But all he could see was the flawless pale skin covering the limb. Not a spot of black. Not a nick or a scratch.

 

He looked at Sakura with a near franticness now. Really looked at her. The way her chin trembled with drying blood catching in the creases of her skin. The near translucent paleness of her complexion. Cuts and abrasions scattered across her arms. His hand slipped from her hair to her shoulder.

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I—What—?” Sakura's eyes darted nervously at his accusing tone.

 

“Sakura,” a warning growl, a tightening of his fingers against her shoulder, “The curse. It's gone. What the hell did you do?”

 

What did you do to yourself? Why are you injured? What did you go through just to save me?

 

For a moment, his mind hovered over his experience facing Madara within the world of Tsukiyomi. Something important had been said. He could not recall what it was.

 

“I…Hinata and I…”

 

Sasuke felt vaguely surprised that he hadn't noticed the others until now. They didn't look to be in as bad of shape as Sakura, but certainly appeared worn nonetheless. But it was in the way they all stood so still and silent with downcast, shuttered expressions. Fresh tears running down Hinata's cheeks.

 

Sasuke remembered now. The question that had followed him from the underworld.

 

“Where is he?” Sasuke forced himself to speak the question he didn't think he wanted an answer to, “Where is Naruto?”

 

“He—he—” Sakura could not make herself speak the words. Was terrified that saying it out loud would make it real. Terrified of being the one to break Sasuke's heart.

 

Sasuke couldn't look at her anymore.

 

But he couldn't look at anyone else, either.

 

It's not supposed to be this way. I'm the one that should have—

 

He couldn't tell how long he remained there on the stone floor, hand still holding Sakura, with her hand now lying atop his. She was blaming herself, no doubt, but he could think of nothing to say that would come close to fixing this. He silently cursed himself for leaving behind that letter. Raged at how stupid and naïve he'd been. Again. So many people had been injured, killed to save his worthless life. He hadn't wished for any of this. It was supposed to end with him.

 

Naruto, you complete and utter…

 

* * *

 

Hinata had always been so reserved, so uncomfortable with expressing herself so openly. It was frightening to think that she didn't remember leaving the others behind. One moment she was standing by Shino. Then she was kneeling next to Naruto.

 

But she couldn't stop herself. Didn't know what else to do with herself. She looked down at Naruto's face, his eyes closed and expression blank, and she forgot herself and everyone else that was there with her. Her words rushed out without her even noticing what they were.

 

“Na—Naruto-kun,” her soft voice skipped and trembled between choppy breaths, “Please, you can't be dead…I—I never got to say—I was finally going to tell you—That I…I…”

 

Even now, she couldn't free those trapped words from her throat. He would never hear them, yet she couldn't say them. Too distracted by the mantra repeating over and over in her mind.

 

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

 

* * *

 

Sasuke and Sakura made their way together, battling forward against weak limbs. Against failing eyesight and fading consciousness.

 

Against that heavy weight of failure.

 

They came upon the scene and paid no notice to their injured comrades. Didn't bother to acknowledge the monstrous statue looming over them, either. Sasuke unconsciously pulled away from her, though she made no protest. Too engulfed by what she was seeing to do anything.

 

Sasuke's narrow vision honed in on Naruto lying so impossibly still. He'd never been so motionless even when he slept. But now he was so quiet. This whole place was as silent as a tomb. It made him want to break something. It made him want to scream and shout and rage and—

 

He lurched and faltered those last few steps. As he pitched forward, his good hand shot out instinctively and he collapsed on palm and knees.

 

He'd been here before. Leaning over Naruto like this. Almost close enough for their noses to touch. He'd been there with Naruto lying still as death with storm clouds and stinging rain.

 

Naruto survived that day because Sasuke chose to let him live. Wished for it. No matter how much harder it made things.

 

* * *

 

“I will not be your puppet. I will follow my own path.”

 

* * *

 

How in god's name had he still ended up with Naruto's blood on his hands?

 

“I never asked you to save me.”

 

Though I knew you would.

 

“You're so fucking stupid! You never listen to a word I say!”

 

I already lost my brother. Why would you make me endure that again?

 

“Fuckin' dead last…”

 

You swore you wouldn't die on me.

 

Sasuke's body couldn't hold out any longer and crumpled by Naruto's side. He couldn't bring himself to notice anything at all. He just lied there numb to everything and everyone. Only reacted blindly to Sakura as she finally fell by his side, their hands instinctively locking. For them, even knowing the other was alive, did little to soothe their hearts. Destroying the Akatsuki, for as good of a thing as that was supposed to be, mattered very little to them now. Those bastards had still managed to accomplish the one thing they'd been so desperate to prevent. The Akatsuki took Naruto away.

 

They were a three-man team. What was the point of any of this if all three of them weren't going home together?

 

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

 

* * *

 

He was five years old, mid-autumn, when the fire came.

 

And he, like all the others who could not fight, went to hide inside the carved stone faces of men much stronger than themselves. Or so they were supposed to.

 

He stood away from the entrance, watching from the top of the world as his village burned. Faintly he heard the cries of his mother urging him to come back. She held his newborn brother tightly to her chest. It was why she couldn't chase after him.

 

But he was too consumed with listening to the roar of an unfathomable beast to be swayed merely by the sound of her voice.

 

“Are you afraid?”

 

He was startled, though he didn't show it, when a new voice emerged by his side.

 

“Terrified,” he admitted, “That monster is destroying everything that I love and there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

 

“Yet you stand here, watching with unblinking eyes. Do you know why?”

 

He finally turned to look at this new person. It was a boy, perhaps only a couple of years older than himself, with dark hair and brilliantly red eyes. He should have known this person then, though he could not recall ever meeting him.

 

“That,” the boy gestured to the rampaging creature, “is our destiny.”

 

“Probably,” he conceded, “It's bound to kill us all.”

 

The other boy laughed. This, too, startled him.

 

“That thing is not our end. It's the future,” the boy paused, then pointed to his own eyes, “Tell me, do you know what we're really capable of?”

 

They survived that night, and years would go by with that other boy becoming something of a mentor to him. He learned so much of himself, his people, their abilities and purpose. But there were nights where he would wonder.

 

He would look at his clan, which had survived that horrid event completely intact. And then he would think of one man who stood before that beast to give his life so no one else would have to.

 

He weighed both sides in his mind and wondered, just sometimes, if the wrong side survived. Though, truthfully, he'd rather if no one had to die at all.

 

Perhaps it was like his “mentor” often teased. Perhaps he was too soft.

 

It wasn't until he was beckoned by his friend to meet by the riverbanks one seemingly unimportant evening that he learned this was true.

 

It wasn't until his young brother crossed his path the night of the blood moon that he was grateful for it.

 

 

 

To be continued…

 

* * *

 

Author's Note: Just some comments on Izanami and Izanagi. They are the gods believed in ancient Japanese mythology to have created Japan. After Izanami dies during childbirth, Izanagi (her husband) made a venture to the underworld to retrieve her. But she had already eaten the food of the underworld and could no longer return. (Thus she is considered both the goddess of creation and death) After Izanagi returned to the living, he performed a cleansing ritual. As he washed his face, Amaterasu (the sun goddess) fell from his right eye. Tsukiyomi (the moon god) came from his left eye. And Susanou (the storm god) came from his nose.

 

Since the Mangekyou Sharingan is clearly tied to the sibling trinity, I imagine the presumably more powerful Eternal Mangekyou would be well-suited to match up with the gods of creation and death, no?