Chapter Text
I woke up screaming.
A visceral sense of terror gripped my body as I seized up, legs and arms straining against something that wasn’t there, my eyes wide open to white but seeing only red. Red and black and - “foolish little brother” - and the scent of what I dimly recognized as antiseptics couldn’t chase away the sticky scent of blood plaguing me.
I screamed, unseeing, unfeeling, until everything went black... and I sunk back into nightmares.
The next time I woke, I was crying. I could grasp a little better my surroundings - I was lying on a bed in a white room - but I couldn’t... do anything. I rolled over on my side and wept.
A gentle hand touched my shoulder, and I shuddered. The hand pulled away. “Sasuke,” said a quiet, soothing voice. “It’s going to be okay.”
If I had had more of a presence of mind, I would have laughed at that. Nothing was going to be okay. Never again. Instead, I just shook my head, curling further in on myself, and the voice left me alone. I cried myself to sleep.
The third time I woke, I was just... numb. Tired. Emotionally and physically exhausted. Gingerly, I pushed myself into a sitting position, finally - finally - taking stock of where I was.
A hospital. I was sitting on a white hospital bed, IV drip in my left arm (how long was I out?), in a white sterile hospital room. Alone. I felt like throwing up, but I swallowed the bile back down, instead turning to look at the bedside table to my right. It was covered with flowers of such a variety of scents and shapes it made my head spin, but there was something more that I focused on.
A buzzer. I pressed it.
Not even a second passed before an ANBU flickered to stand at my bedside, and I flinched away. They were- They were wearing- Itachi had done the killing in his ANBU uniform, sans mask, and I didn't realize what that would do to me until I saw it.
I threw up.
I had the presence of mind to lean over the side of the bed and aim for the bucket conveniently placed there, but the intermingled smell of vomit, the heady perfume of flowers, and the pervasive scent of antiseptics just made me puke again. A hand gently rubbed my back, and even when I flinched, it didn't pull back. Just rubbed soothingly as I threw up once, twice, three times, until all I was doing was gagging over a disgusting bucket.
Still, the hand stayed, and I was grateful for it as I tried to catch my breath, shudders racking my body. "Water," I managed to rasp out, and the hand disappeared and then reappeared, another hand gently pushing a glass of water into my hands. The first gulp I used to wash out my nasty-tasting mouth, spitting it into the bucket, but the rest I sucked down greedily. It was a balm, a cool rush to soothe my burning throat, and it made me feel a bit less unsettled.
Keeping the glass in my hand, reluctant to give it up, I turned to stare at the wall, away from the bucket but still not looking at the ANBU. "How... long was I out?" I croaked, and wished desperately for more water, but I also didn't want the reassuring hand on my back to disappear.
There was a small moment of silence. "Four days," they said.
Four days. Four days of being the Last Uchiha of Konoha, four days of cleaning up bodies, four days of Danzo stealing Uchiha eyes. My hands went white-knuckled around the cup. "Can... Can I-" I stopped. I couldn't go home.
There were two homes that battled for dominance in my mind. Neither was here anymore. Neither existed.
The ANBU was waiting patiently, and I attempted to regather my thoughts. "Can I leave yet?" I murmured, and the hand on my back moved, rubbing in soothing circles.
"The Hokage wants to talk to you before you go," they said, and I tensed up. It made perfect sense, but- but- but I wasn't ready to talk to the Hokage yet.
Not when I knew what really happened. (Because of the weird, clashing memories I had to process later because I was kind of hysterical right now.) The ANBU continued, still gently rubbing my back. "You need to stay here for a week, first, though - just in case."
I nodded jerkily. Maybe because they were worried Itachi would come back and finish the job - he would fucking never. Maybe they were worried I would kill myself - no, I hadn't thought about that possibility in years and wouldn't start now. Maybe they weren't sure what Itachi had used on me and wanted to make sure there weren't any medical complications - I doubted it, honestly.
It didn't matter. No matter what, I had a week before I had to face the music, and even though I had been the one to ask if I could go I was immensely relieved to have that time, fuck.
Everything was a huge, colossal mess.
I took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling, before refocusing my gaze on the glass between my palms. "I'm not ready to see the Hokage yet," I told them, my stomach curling in shame - or maybe I just drank that water too fast. Who knew. "Can I... wait until I've checked out in a week...?" I needed as much time as I could to prepare myself, to understand how bumfuck crazy I really was.
The ANBU nodding, maybe. I still couldn't look at them. "Of course, Sasuke," they said, and I was so grateful they called me by my personal name that I teared up a little. I didn't want to be called by my surname, be reminded of what I had lost.
"More water?" I choked, and in the few seconds they disappeared, I quickly wiped at my eyes, sniffling slightly, before my hands were wrapped around another glass. I took just a small sip this time, trembling a little, but it was what I needed. "Can I, um, be alone?" I needed to... to think.
There was silence for a moment, the ANBU's hand unmoving on my back, before they spoke. "I will go," they said, and I felt a rush of gratitude so strong it was dizzying. "But a nurse will be by to check on you soon."
That was fine. Livable. Doable. "Okay," I whispered. "Thank you."
And with that, I was alone.
I had a lot of time to think over the next week. Every single moment of that was necessary to compile a short, mental list of facts.
Fact One: I was Uchiha Sasuke. I remembered growing up in the Uchiha Clan, forever chasing after the brother I adored so much, never needing or making a friend aside from him and Shisui. I remembered desperately trying to live up to my father's impossible-seeming standards, and I remembered everyone dying at my brother's hands.
(I remembered the last one vividly every night and woke up vomiting every morning.)
Fact Two: I remembered being someone else. I remembered too many siblings to count, parents who did their best even if it wasn't good enough, and accepting nothing from myself but the best.
(The last thing I recalled was taking my dog for a walk. After that - nothing. No one's names or faces would come to mind, either, not even my own.)
Fact Three: Assuming One's memories were of this life and Two's of a past life, which was an assumption I was rolling with for the moment, I didn't recall remembering being Two until I woke up in the hospital. Maybe the Mangekyou Sharingan had awoken memories of a past life?
(If so, it didn't account for the why my past memories were as clear as day. I remembered both training with Itachi and calling my mom as if they had happened the other day. And...)
Fact Four: I remembered the Uchihas and every other part of my "current" life being fictional in my "past" life. Which really fucked with three a lot.
(Assuming everything was the same as that past fictional anime... It meant I knew a lot of what was to come. Which led into...)
Fact Five: I was seriously, seriously fucked.
But none of that mattered at the moment, at least. There was nothing I could do for now. I was in the hospital, and I had to stay until they cleared me.
The nurses were nice. Fretful. I only saw civilians, no medic-nins - probably because Itachi hadn't left any physical damage. I did see a Yamanaka, though, halfway through the week. Not one I recognized.
She sat in a chair next to the bed, while I curled up in my blankets as far as I could get from her, the empty bedside table nearly cutting into my ribs. (I had long requested the flowers be removed.) "Sasuke," she said calmly, soothingly - likely a long practiced technique. "I wanted to talk to you about how you're feeling right now." Maybe that worked for most children, but...
I just curled up tighter, knees bumping my chin as I hugged my legs to my chest and stared at her in barely concealed terror. If anyone could find me out - for having two sets of memories, for knowing what truly happened at the massacre, for knowing the god damn future - it would be her. "I don't. I really, really don't."
Her gaze softened. "I know you don't want to talk about it, believe me, I do, but you cannot be released unless we know you're not a danger to yourself or others." Ah, a different tactic.
The Original (for that was how I now that of the Sasuke I had read of, once upon a life) probably would've seized on that. For an impressionable, traumatized eight-year-old who desperately wanted to get stronger to kill his brother, the idea of being trapped here would've been too much. But I didn't care. "I'm not," I told her, shaking like a leaf but refusing to take my eyes off of her. "Have ANBU watch me if you don't believe me, I don't care. But I don't want to talk to you."
She looked sad. I refused to let myself feel the guilt that expression was probably supposed to inspire. "If you're sure, Sasuke. We can try again later."
I gave her a short, jerky nod and watched her like a hawk as she left, completely unwilling to look away. It was only when the door shut behind her and I had given enough time for her to walk away that I started to cry. I buried my face in my knees and sobbed, trembling and frightened as hell.
In this village, if you conspired against the Hokage, that meant death to your entire family, down to the youngest infant, and Konoha gets to blame it on a scapegoat and still come off as a "nice village". I was. Terrified that someone would find out what I knew, that this fascist dictatorship of child soldiers deeply scared me, and that I wasn't loyal to it in the slightest. If the Hokage found out, or Root, or...
Everything about that was terrifying.
To be honest, I probably needed a therapist over this whole thing. I had been cognizant enough in my past life to recognize when I needed one (and I had had far less issues then), but I couldn't tell a single soul about what I knew, what I remembered. So, uh. No therapist.
Damn.
The Yamanaka didn't come back the rest of the week in the hospital, and I... managed. The nightmares didn't stop, but I stopped throwing up every morning - hopefully I was getting used to seeing my entire family slaughtered by my martyr of a brother every night? Hah. Honestly, I probably should have stayed longer. I still wasn't eating a lot or really doing anything, but the ANBU had said a week, so a week it was.
On the seventh day since I had woken up, I pressed the button again. There was a flicker, and in an instant, the same ANBU from before was kneeling by my bedside. This time, though, they were wearing a black robe over top of their normal uniform - I couldn't see a peep of it, and I relaxed. No throwing up this time. "I'm ready to see the Hokage."
The ANBU inclined their head. "Do you want to walk, or me to carry you?"
I blanched, and quickly shook my head. "Walk. I can walk." No way did I want their hands all over me. They gave me enough room, and I cautiously slid off the bed, slipping my feet into the small sandals sitting there. I hadn't been on the bed the whole time I was here - toiletry needs and whatnot - but it felt like it had been ages since I truly walked around.
The ANBU offered me a hand, and after a moment of consideration, I took it.
We probably made an absurd sight. The Last Uchiha, clad in a too-large T-shirt and shorts, pale and serious as can be, holding hands with a much larger ANBU, wearing a black robe and the typical mask, the only part of them visible being the gloved hand firmly tucked in my much smaller one. Fortunately, we barely saw anyone.
I had been half-expecting to be lead outside, down the street to the Hokage Tower, but in hindsight? Absolutely absurd. I had just now been allowed to leave, I was kind of a mess both emotionally and physically, and they probably didn't want me to get mobbed with people for fear of causing another breakdown. (Which, uh, totally would have happened.)
No, instead, the two of us padded down the hallway, passing a few nurses who dodged, pressing themselves to the wall - even though there was plenty of room - and entered a small room on the left. It looked like a meeting room of some sort, with a whiteboard on the far wall, and a table in the middle surrounded by chairs. The Hokage was sitting in one of the closest ones, and I swallowed sharply.
My first impression, for I had never met the Hokage in this life before, was of both fear and... comfort? There was no denying that he was an imposing man. Even though he was older, white-haired and wrinkled, live spots and stooped, it was clear he was a shinobi. His robes semi-hid the muscles coating his wiry frame, and there was this sense of... strength? Power? Something that surrounded him that made me loathe to cross him. Still, he smiled gently as the ANBU guided me to a chair next to him, and though I hadn't met my grandfathers in either life, he reminded me of my great-grandfather from my past one, and I relaxed, just a fraction.
"Hello, Sasuke," he said softly, and I did my best to hide a flinch when he set his hand on my head, but didn't quite succeed. "How are you feeling today?"
"...Better," I admitted after a moment, meeting his eyes for a split second and then gazing down at my hands, curled in my lap, instead. "But. Um. I still don't want to talk to that Yamanaka, sir."
"Alright," said the Hokage amiably, and I relaxed a little more. "Do you want to talk to me about it?"
I thought about it. No matter how grandfatherly he might have seemed, he was still, uh, a fascist dictator and would probably lock me up and throw away the key if he ever learned what I knew. Or parade me around as a puppet given my status as the Last Uchiha - either way, NOT good. I shook my head. "You... You know what happened, sir. What- What I saw." My breathing hitched, and I couldn't help but tear up a little as my voice cracked. "How do you think I feel?"
All of a sudden, I was pulled into an embrace. I flailed a little, panicking, but the Hokage held me close, tight, and the tension slowly slipped away as I leaned into him, arms going limp at my sides. He had that sort of "old people smell" around him, coupled with dust, and it reminded me of my Nana's basement.
I was... so homesick and heartbroken. For both homes of both lives.
He held me, and I cried into him, clutching at his robes as he pulled me into his lap and rocked me gently. I felt like a child - I was a child, and I was frightened and alone. The Hokage held me until I had cried myself out, exhausted, and then he just tucked me underneath his chin, continuing to rock.
After what felt like at least ten minutes of quiet rocking, enough time for me to begin to calm, the Hokage spoke. "Do you want to return home, Sasuke?"
I nodded without even thinking about it, though that place didn't really exist anymore. The Uchiha district probably wouldn't feel like home, not without the people that lived there. He was quiet for a moment and when he spoke again, his voice was gentle. "You do not have to stay in your district, if you do not want to. You can have an apartment anywhere in the village."
I shook my head, clearing my throat. "Thank you, sir, but I want... I want to stay there. Please." The thought of staying anywhere else was terrifying. I couldn't deal with even more upheaval.
He hmmed, rubbing my back gently. (I felt like an infant but, just this once, I was okay with it.) "If you're sure. Do you want a caretaker? A guardian? Even just someone to cook and clean for you?" I shook my head so fast I was almost dizzy, and the Hokage chuckled. "Very well. There will be a group of ANBU keeping watch over you, however, though you will not see them unless you want to."
Too relieved by the lack of guardian - though, given he thought I was a normal eight-year-old, what the fuck Hokage - I didn't protest it. It made perfect sense to me. "Okay," I whispered. "As long as... nobody else comes into the district."
I began to finally detangle myself from the old man, and he let me pull away, not responding until I was firmly seated in my chair. "Of course. It's all yours to do with as you wish - as is all the money of the Clan. Any money not stated in wills to go to a non-Uchiha has been transferred into one large account for your disposal."
My mind reeled as a I nodded. That was... probably a lot of money. Plus everything in the Uchiha district... that was a lot to go through, too. To process.
I wondered if Original had ever done that, or if he had just let them be, let them gather dust. I had no idea. It took me a minute to realize the Hokage was waiting patiently for a response, and I flushed slightly. "Um, thank you, sir." I fidgeted a little. "Is there, ah, anything else you needed or can I go now?"
He smiled slightly, giving me another pat on the head. "Yes, you can. Don't worry about the Academy yet - you can take as long of a break as you need."
Well, that was a weight off my shoulders, even if I didn't want to miss too much. "Can... I still get the homework and any notes, thought? I don't want to fall behind."
I felt a strong sense of approval from the Hokage's warm smile at that, and I ducked my head, a bit embarrassed. (Remember, he's a fascist dictator. Fascist dictator.) There was a touch on my arm, and I looked up, jerking away - it was the ANBU. They had been so silent, I had forgotten they were there. "Come," they said. "I'll take you home."
(Hah. Home.)
Nodding, I slipped off the chair, but looked at the village's leader one last time. "Thank you, Lord Hokage," I told him, not wanting to seem, well, disloyal. "For, um, everything."
His smile turned a bit sad, lines of sorrow etching themselves into his elderly face. "I only wish I could do more."
That was how we left him, the ANBU and I. They took my hand, gently pulling me out of the room and down the hall. We were quiet for a moment until I spoke. "Are we going to walk there?"
The ANBU glanced at me and shook their head. "No, I'll flicker us there after I check you out."
That was a relief - I wasn't keen on walking all that way, and I really, really wasn't keen on the attention. To be honest, that was what was worrying me the most. Just from Original's adventures, I knew I would have a lot of attention. A lot of focus, and not for anything I had accomplished. (That would've been okay.) No, just because my entire fucking family died, I was going to get a shitload of attention. Yay!
I got a taste of that while the ANBU was checking me out. They knocked on the door of an office, having a hushed conversation with the woman inside I didn't care much to listen to, while I hovered in the doorway. Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I whirled around, defensive and reaching for kunai that weren't there, but it was only an apologetic-looking nurse. "Sorry for scaring you, Sasuke," she said, and I forced myself to relax, shaking my head.
"It's... fine. I just didn't hear you coming." But I should've. She was just a civilian, and while I wasn't a shinobi yet... It was no excuse.
She nodded. "Sorry, I'm kind of quiet." She hesitated a moment and I stared at her numbly, not sure why she was talking to me. "I, um..." The nurse trailed off, before steeling herself and thrusting a small, takeout-looking box at me. I took it, unthinking. "You're... probably sick of hospital food, Sasuke," she told me, and I unwound a little at the use of my name. "And I wasn't sure how much you know how to cook, so I made you something."
A knot in my chest eased a little. When people suffered a tragedy, you brought them food so they wouldn't have to cook. It was a universal thing, it seemed like - I had no memories of it in my current life, but I hadn't lost someone like this before - and I attempted a tiny smile. "Thank you. Um, what's your name?"
"Ayuko," she said, smiling back. She had perfectly white, straight teeth, wow. Coupled with her cute blue buzzcut and adorable dimples, she was exactly the kind of woman I would have tripped over myself to talk to in my past life. As it was, I was just grateful. "Higurashi Ayuko."
"It's nice to meet you," I told her politely. "Thank you for the food."
Her smile grew a little, and she reached out to ruffle my hair. "I have to start my shift, but I wish you the best, Sasuke. Remember, your whole village is behind you. You're going to rise to the top, don't worry!" And then she was off, missing the flinch I had given at those last words. I hadn't... done anything to deserve that kind of confidence, and it hurt, just a touch.
The ANBU was standing next to me, I realized, and I glanced up at them. "She gave me some food," I told them, even if they had probably witnessed the whole thing. "Can you check it for poison?"
They stared at me for a moment, and I wished I knew what they were feeling behind that white mask. "...Yes," they said finally. "When we reach the Uchiha district."
That was an acceptable answer, and I nodded, reaching up to take their silently offered hand. We walked together, making our way through the hospital once more, but stopped before we hit the entrance. They pulled their hand out of mine, but then offered it to me again - confused, I stared at it. "Give me the box." Oh. I felt stupid. Hastily, I passed it over, and they crouched down next to me. "Do you know how to have a piggy back ride?" It felt very strange to hear the serious ANBU say those words, but I nodded.
"Itachi and I did that a lot."
There was a stifling sort of silence as the ANBU looked me over and then spoke with a slow, measured tone. "If there's another way you want me to carry you-"
I frantically shook my head, cutting them off. "No, no," I said, wincing. That had just sort of come out. "It's fine." As if to prove it was okay, I clambered onto their back right then and there, wrapping my arms loosely around their neck, legs hanging around their waist.
They moved slowly, as if giving me an opportunity to declare it "too much" and jump off, but I didn't, and soon they were out the door, free hand hooked under one of my knees as they leaped to one of the closest rooftops. Then to another, and another, and another-
The wind pushed back my hair, and I couldn't help a small smile. Itachi had never done something like this with me, though Shisui had, once - this was an exhilarating experience, made all the better by the fact we were avoiding people on the streets.
I really, really didn't want to talk to anyone.
They were fast, though, and the trip felt like it was only two minutes long. It could've been, for all I knew - they were fast. Regardless, it only felt like a few minutes before they were landing smoothly in front of the district. I slid off their back and looked around. It was... silent. Dead. It was as if not just the district was empty of people, but all the buildings by it as well. The sound of people seemed far away, a distant noise that seemed to come from another world.
I shuddered. Could I get used to this?
The ANBU hadn't gotten up from where they knelt. Instead, they looked steadily at me, one gloved hand glowing blue and hovering over the container of food. "Do you want me to come with you?" they asked, and I shook my head.
"No," I said, trying really hard to make myself mean it. "I'm fine."
They nodded slowly, and offered the container, the glowing stopping. "It's safe to eat, Sasuke."
I took it carefully, looking down at it, and the ANBU rested a hand gently on my head. "Just call for me if you need me," they said, and then, in a blink, they were gone.
And I was alone.
For a long moment, I just stared at the entrance to the district, trying to work up the courage to go in. Just a week and a half ago, this place was buzzing with noise, with people, with life. Now, though... it was dead. In more ways than one.
I took a deep breath, clutching the food tightly to me, and walk inside.
There wasn't any blood. No bodies, no nothing to show that a literal genocide had occurred here less than two weeks ago. Just... small things. An empty cart overturned and left on the side of the road. A comb I almost stepped on and quickly skirted round, not wanting to break it.
Automatically, I found my feet tracing the familiar path to my house. I couldn't- couldn't redirect myself anywhere else, just followed the well-trodden route until I was standing on the porch.
I took a deep breath, inhale, exhale. "I'm home," I said softly, and then I slid open the door.