Uchiha Sasuke, Civilian

by Rokikurama

Summary:

“I’m not having trouble at the Academy,” Sasuke says to the Hokage. “I’ve decided I don’t want to be a ninja anymore."

or,

What if young Sasuke made a different choice?

Chapter 1

Vague dark figures in white masks piled blankets on top of Sasuke, but he still felt cold. They wrapped him up and said words like “shock” and “trauma” and “unresponsive.” Sasuke thought whoever it was they were talking about should get the blankets, but he couldn’t quite force his mouth to make the right sounds. Eventually a black gloved hand with chilly metal claws reached out and touched his forehead and said “sleep.” Sasuke did.

He woke up in the hospital. He could tell it was the hospital because it had white walls and smelled like cleaning products and vomit. Or maybe it was just him that smelled like vomit. A nurse came and gently led him to a shower, then stopped him from walking in with his hospital gown still on. He asked if Sasuke minded if he stayed. Sasuke didn’t particularly care. He wasn’t sure he could care about anything, really. Even when they told him that everyone was dead, it was hard to care about it.

The nurse turned on the water, and Sasuke let it fall on him. The little droplets were unexpectedly interesting. Sasuke had never noticed before, how they changed shape as they fell, starting out fat and then getting longer and longer, and then running together into twisty little threads of water when they hit his arm. He held his arm up and turned so the light would hit his arm and he could see them better. The nurse gasped.

“Sharingan,” he said. Sasuke had the distant thought that he should care about that, but it was so much easier to watch the water.

---

One of the white-masked ninja—ANBU, they’re called ANBU, he knows this one—walks him out after the hospital finally lets him go. He says Sasuke can call him “Cat,” and his mask does look vaguely feline.

Sasuke stops dead when he realizes where they’re going. They’re in the Uchiha district by then but still a ways away from—from his house. It’s not his home. Not anymore. Cat stops too, and looks at him, but the mask gives nothing away. Sasuke is all too aware that Cat could make him go to the house. Cat is like Ita—like Him, and so Cat could do anything he wanted with Sasuke, because Sasuke is weak. He said so.

“I—I don’t,” Sasuke says, and thinks that He was right, just like He always was. Sasuke is weak if he can’t even speak. Sasuke falls silent, but Cat just waits.

“Can we go somewhere else?” Sasuke asks, finally. His voice is barely a whisper but Cat seems to hear him. He tilts his head, considering.

“The quarter is yours now,” Cat says. “We can go anywhere in it you want.”

Sasuke is paralyzed by the idea of making a choice. But he can’t—he just can’t go back there, where It happened. Finally, he remembers his aunt, his mother’s sister Himari, who would watch him sometimes. She would make little plates of vegetables, tiny cherry tomatoes chopped into halves for him to eat while he did homework or watched TV with her. It was neat and small and quiet and warm and maybe he could there.

Sasuke takes Cat’s hand, careful not to prick himself on the glove’s armored claws, and leads him to Himari-obasan’s house. “Home,” now. He guesses.

---

Sasuke sleeps for weeks. Or at least that’s what it feels like. Cat does make him do things, but they’re normal things, like waking up and showering and eating food. They watch TV. They go for walks. Cat asks him once if he wants to train, and Sasuke throws up. Cat does not ask again.

“What do you think about going back to the Academy?” Cat asks him one night while they watch “Guess What,” a funny civilian game show where people try to guess where things come from or what price they are and win prizes if they’re right. (Cat pretends not to care what they watch, but Sasuke knows better. Cat is addicted.)

Sasuke is quiet. An idea has been brewing in his head over the last few days, but it’s so outrageous that he almost can’t imagine saying it aloud.

“Cat-san,” Sasuke says, keeping his eyes fixed on the TV so he can’t see the man’s reaction, “what if…what if I didn’t want to be a ninja anymore?”

On the screen, a woman with long brown hair braided down her back guesses the correct price for winter melons in the Land of Lightning. It pushes her score over the other contestant’s, a man with short black hair. She pumps her fists, and a musical cue accompanies her success. Lights flash around the stage set as the show heads into its final round. Cat is very quiet.

“I think that would be your choice,” Cat says, finally, slowly, once the show has cut to commercials.

“But?” Sasuke asks. He has a feeling there is something Cat isn’t saying.

“But nothing,” Cat says, this time more firmly. “It’s your life. It’s your choice.”

“Would I still go to the Academy?” Sasuke asks. Cat nods.

“Anyone who can spark chakra is required to go to the Academy, even just so they can learn to control their abilities and not be a danger to the village,” he says. Sasuke isn’t sure how to feel about that. He kind of never wants to see anyone he knew Before ever again. But if he has to, then he has to. He guesses.

“Can I ask why?” Cat says.

“My—That Man told me to train hard, to get stronger,” Sasuke says. The memory is seared on the inside of his eyelids. He couldn’t forget it, even if he wanted to. “But I hate him. I—I don’t want to do it, if he wants me to do it. And he said the only reason he didn’t kill me was because I was weak. I don’t think…it doesn’t make sense for me to get strong so he can come back and kill me too.”

Cat is quiet again for a while. The show comes back from commercials. The black-haired man risks his whole score on a guess about which island in Tea Country produced a pretty blue and yellow pottery vase, with a pattern like waves under the sun. He’s wrong. The host pretends to be sympathetic, but Sasuke knows he’s lying. The host loves the drama. He and Cat have discussed this.

“Don’t base your life on what Itachi,” Cat says, and Sasuke flinches. But Cat refuses to call That Man anything but his name. Sasuke wishes he would stop. “On what Itachi or anybody else wants or doesn’t want. It’s your life, Sasuke-kun. Live it for you.”

---

The next week, Sasuke goes back to the Academy. It’s weird, very weird. Where before most people ignored him or even sneered at “another Uchiha brat,” now it’s like he’s been transformed into a celebrity overnight. Mizuki-sensei is the worst. Sasuke can’t do anything without Mizuki-sensei telling him how smart or talented he is. Sasuke can feel half the class glaring at him in envy while the other half simpers and sucks up. It’s horrible. It’s intolerable. He hates it.

“I know, Sasuke-kun, but you do still have to go to school,” Cat says. He sounds almost amused, so Sasuke glares at him.

“You’re not my parents,” Sasuke says angrily, without even meaning to, really. Cat goes very still.

“No,” Cat says. “I’m not.”

Sasuke goes to school the next morning.

He tells the sensei that he doesn’t want to be a shinobi anymore, but they just smile at him encouragingly and tell him not to worry, that he’ll feel more up to things soon. It pisses him off.

They’re outside with Mizuki-sensei, practicing shuriken throws on one of the target ranges, when Sasuke realizes what he should do. It’s so blindingly obvious; he can’t believe it took him two whole weeks to think of it. As he brings his arm forward to throw, Sasuke holds his wrist rigidly, just like he had before his father corrected him, and his shuriken barely hits the outside ring of the target. Mizuki-sensei had already started to praise him before the shuriken even hit. He makes a weird gurgling sound as he awkwardly swallows his words back down. Sasuke smirks. This is going to be fun.

For the next month, all of Sasuke’s shuriken go astray. His chakra control mysteriously deteriorates to the point that he can’t perform the Academy Three jutsu anymore. His homework is all wrong, and his tests have nothing but blanks where the answers should go. Naruto—yes, Naruto, THAT Naruto—beats him in a spar. So does the rest of the class. Sasuke can barely hold himself back from cackling at the look on Mizuki-sensei’s face. Iruka-sensei shouts at him almost as much as he shouts at Naruto, but Sasuke isn’t moved.

He’s eating lunch alone, considering if he wants to escalate to skipping class like Naruto, Shikamaru, and Kiba do sometimes, when the ANBU find him. Sasuke looks, but neither of them are wearing a cat mask.

“Uchiha Sasuke?” The leader asks. His mask stares down at Sasuke with the eight eyes of a spider, and Sasuke is definitely not even a little bit scared.

“Hn.”

“You’ve been summoned by the Hokage.” The ANBU Spider has the same creepy atonal voice that Cat did, at the beginning. He holds out a hand.

“Where’s Cat?” Sasuke asks. The two ANBU exchange a look.

“That’s classified information,” Spider says and grabs Sasuke before he can react.

When Sasuke can see and hear again, past the rush of the wind and blur of things moving way, way, way too fast, he’s outside the doors to the Hokage’s office. Sasuke can hear raised voices through the door, and he is suddenly very, very afraid. The last time he saw the Hokage was in the hospital, when he told Sasuke that his entire clan was dead and That Man was gone. Is He back? Is that why the ANBU kidnapped him from the Academy? Where is Cat? Is he fighting That Man? Did Itachi kill Cat? Are they about to tell him that Itachi killed Cat? Is Sasuke alone again?

Sasuke doesn’t realize that the doors have opened until Cat is suddenly there, kneeling right in front of him with one hand squeezing Sasuke’s shoulder tight.

“Breathe with me, Sasuke-kun,” he’s saying, and Sasuke tries. He really tries, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. It takes a long time for the blood rushing in his ears and the screaming in his head to stop, but Cat stays with him, right there on the floor, until, finally, it does.

Cat takes him in to see the Hokage and holds his hand the whole time. Sasuke is stupidly, pathetically grateful for it.

“Uchiha-kun, I hear you’ve been having some trouble at the Academy” the Hokage says. Sasuke looks up at Cat because—what? No one gets called to the Hokage’s office because they’ve been slacking off at school. The Academy Headmaster, maybe, but not the Hokage. Cat inclines his mask back towards the old man at his desk, but he squeezes Sasuke’s hand encouragingly.

“I’m not having trouble,” Sasuke says. “I’ve decided I don’t want to be a ninja anymore. But the teachers don’t believe me.”

“Ah, child,” the Hokage says, leaning back in his chair. “I understand. I grieve that you’ve had to discover so young how hard our world can be. But you can’t let that scare you into giving up. I believe you have great potential, Uchiha-kun, the potential to grow into the kind of shinobi, the kind of man, that your family would have been very proud of indeed.”

Sasuke realizes this is going to be much harder than he’d thought.

“I don’t want to be a ninja,” he says again, trying to keep his voice level and to ignore what he knows his father would have said about that. Father is dead. What he thought doesn’t matter anymore. Cat’s hand is still in his, strong and steady. The Hokage smiles in a knowing way that makes Sasuke want to scream.

“You’re very young to make such an important decision, Uchiha-kun,” the Hokage says. This other person in the room, a teenaged silver-haired shinobi who’s been quiet until now, snorts. The Hokage glares at him in a way that makes the room go cold. Sasuke’s heartbeat speeds up and up and up until finally whatever it was melts away. Cat is already kneeling before Sasuke can ask, putting Sasuke’s sweaty palm against his own armored chest. Air whistles in and out of Sasuke’s throat as he tries to breathe. Thankfully, the Hokage and the other shinobi politely pretend not to notice until Sasuke finally gets himself back under control.

“Now, Uchiha-kun,” the Hokage says, “I can understand how you might be frustrated with the Academy curriculum. That’s why I’ve brought Kakashi-kun here. He’s going to be your afterschool tutor, helping guide you through more advanced shinobi arts—for example, your sharingan.”

Everyone looks at the teen, who is standing at attention now after whatever the scary thing was before. He looks back.

“Yo,” Kakashi-sensei(?) says, finally. He’s obviously not an Uchiha. Not a Hyuuga or a Yuuhi either, so Sasuke has no idea why the Hokage thinks he knows anything about the sharingan. Sasuke’s first impression is that he hates him.

“Can I still have Cat?”

The Hokage chuckles warmly, not at all like someone who’d just told Sasuke that he didn’t have any control over his own life and waves a hand.

“Yes, Cat will remain your primary ANBU guard, at least until he is fully recovered.”

Sasuke looks up at Cat in alarm. Cat, injured? He never said! Cat just pats Sasuke on the shoulder and leads him out. Kakashi-san disappears as soon as the door to the Hokage Tower swings shut behind them. Cat sighs.

“Kakashi-tai—um, Kakashi-san is a good person,” Cat says. Sasuke raises an eyebrow. Cat sighs again, more deeply this time.

“Just trust me on this.”

Chapter 2

Kakashi-san is waiting for Sasuke when he leaves the Academy the next day, nose stuck in some kind of book. The various parents and aunts and uncles and older siblings waiting to walk the other kids home pretend like they’re not staring at him, but they totally are. Great. Sasuke stomps right past Kakashi-san on his way back home. He can’t stop Kakashi-san from following him, but he doesn’t have to talk to him either.

They’re about halfway to the quarter when Kakashi-san finally says something.

“So, you don’t want to be a shinobi.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a lot smarter than I was at your age.”

Sasuke stops, almost against his will, to glare suspiciously at Kakashi-san.

“I mean it,” he says, testing.

“So do I,” Kakashi-san says.

“Hn,” Sasuke grunts and starts walking again. Kakashi-san follows. When they reach the cloth district, he speaks again.

“How do you feel about knitting?”

“What.”

“Knitting.”

“What?”

“You know,” Kakashi-san looks up at the sky, “scarves. And hats and sweaters and things, I suppose. What people do with yarn. How do you feel about it?”

“I have no feelings about knitting.”

“Then you won’t mind learning.”

“What.”

“Knitting.”

Sasuke spins around to glare at Kakashi-san. It has no discernable effect. There’s a sound that might be wind rustling the leaves of the trees around them—it is getting to be autumn, after all—or might be a hidden Cat, sighing. Very loudly. Either way, if Sasuke pretends not to hear it, he doesn’t have to respond.

“Why would I want to learn how to knit?”

“You don’t have to be a shinobi, but you do have to learn the basics of your sharingan. Otherwise it’ll mess up your life.” Kakashi-san pauses. “Mess up your life more. Knitting is as good a skill to learn with it as any. Probably better than most.”

“What would you know about the sharingan?” Sasuke asks, possibly ruder than he really has to be, but, seriously, he thinks he’s allowed to be touchy about the kekkei genkai of his recently murdered clan.

In response, Kakashi-san pulls the hitai-ate slanted across his face level and opens his left eye. It’s red, blood red, with three tomoe spinning lazily around, just like That Man’s eyes that night, and Sasuke can’t breathe. This—this—this must be That Man—he’s snuck back to finish the job—henge—Sasuke is about to die—there’s a big hand on his chest. But it’s just resting there, not choking him or stabbing him. There’s another big hand curled around his shaking fist.

“Breathe with me. Deep breaths. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three.” It’s—it’s Kakashi-san; it’s not That Man, and Sasuke is losing his mind over nothing. Again. Embarrassment blooms over his face, but he can’t speed up the process of just getting over it.

Kakashi-san is patient with him, though, and just nods when Sasuke’s finally able to breathe normally again. The sweat is cold against his back and in his armpits, and Sasuke just wants a shower.

“One of my genin teammates was an Uchiha. Uchiha Obito. I lost an eye on a mission and he—he didn’t come back. His last request was for me to take his sharingan, so we could see the future together.” Kakashi-san says, gaze firmly on the storefronts around them.

Sasuke breathes. That’s… plausible. There are clan records of things like that. Never with outsiders, but, well. If it had happened, it wouldn’t have been discussed where Sasuke could hear. Sasuke’s never heard of an “Obito,” either. And Kakashi-san’s sharingan is no fake.

Sasuke is actually inside the yarn store before he realizes what’s happening.

“Aaah, Kakashi-kun, welcome, welcome. You need another project already? More legwarmers for your young man, mmm?”

The grey-haired woman behind the counter smiles broadly at both of them, opening valleys of wrinkles across her face. Civilian. Very, very, very civilian. For some reason, she’s holding up a horrifying neon orange yarn and waving it at Kakashi-san.

“Not yet, Takahashi-san, not yet. Sasuke-kun here wants to learn how to knit. We’re here for him.”

Sasuke finds himself firmly shoved forward, almost tripping over the rug in front of the cash register. He swallows. He doesn’t like talking to people, and she seems like a talker.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho, you’ve brought me a yarn virgin, eh?” Takahashi-san cackles.

Sasuke actually feels his eyes go wide. He mentally re-classifies Takahashi-san from grandmotherly to terrifying.

“What’s your favorite color, young man?”

Sasuke stares at her. He—he doesn’t know. He would have said dark blue, but that’s because it was Uchiha blue, and. Well. Sasuke stares some more. Kakashi-san pokes him in the back of the head when the silence goes too long.

Out of desperation, Sasuke grabs the closest yarn he can reach. It’s the orange one, from before. The color is too loud. Much, much too loud. But it’s kind of fluffy, and. Nice. Sort of.

“And to think, my daughter told me I’d never sell any of the orange,” Takahashi-san chortled. “At this rate, I’ll be out before the end of the week. Now, I assume you want me to show Sasuke-kun here the ropes, eh?”

“Please,” Kakashi-san says and then arranges them so Sasuke is standing on a stool, looking down at Takahashi-san’s hands from behind her shoulder—just the position he’ll have when it’s his turn to do whatever it is you do with yarn.

“Okay, Sasuke, just push a very little chakra into your eyes. A trickle.”

Sasuke does. The world takes on a mesmerizing clarity. He can see each strand of wool that twists together to make up the yarn. It’s so much. Almost too much. It’s overwhelming.

“Watch how Takahashi-san moves her hands, okay? Just focus on the movement. Let the rest of it go.”

Sasuke shudders but obediently tries to focus as the old woman’s fingers deftly swing the yarn over and around long wooden needles. They faintly clack together, like very tiny naruko. Fabric blooms from them, cascading down onto the counter. It is kind of peaceful. Almost the exact opposite of everything at the academy. If Sasuke smiled, he’d be smiling now. But he doesn’t. Obviously.

Takahashi-san shows him some more specialized techniques, like how to get the yarn onto the needle in the first place and how to “bind off” when he’s done. Sasuke is pronounced “scarf-ready.” Whatever.

 

---

 

Kakashi-san follows him home, which is annoying but clearly something Sasuke has no control over. Just like everything else. They both sit down at his kitchen table. Sasuke stares at him, mentally willing him to leave. If Kakashi-san leaves, then he and Cat can watch television. He doesn’t really want to watch television, but it’ll take less energy than whatever this is. He’s already exhausted. At least it isn’t like he was planning on doing the homework.

Sasuke stares at the floor.

Kakashi-san stares into the middle distance.

Sasuke stares harder.

Kakashi-san takes out a book.

Sasuke abruptly decides that breaking first is worth the hit to his pride if it will get Kakashi-san out.

“What do you want?”

“Saa, so rude, Sasuke-kun. I want you to practice knitting.”

“Then you’ll leave already?”

“Then I’ll leave already.”

Sasuke looks at him expectantly. Kakashi-san does not put down his book.

“First, you’ll have to access the sharingan memories. Start out by casting a genjutsu on yourself, something small.”

“I told you I don’t want to be a shinobi.”

Kakashi-san sighs.

“And I told you I agreed with you. Many of the so-called ninja arts are perfectly useful to a civilian, so long as they can access their chakra. What do you think the Academy dropouts do with their lives?”

Sasuke has never considered what losers like that—huh. He’s going to become one of them, isn’t he. Huh. The thought is weird. It makes him feel simultaneously sick to his stomach and lighter than he thinks he’s ever felt. He doesn’t want to talk about this with Kakashi-san, though, so he casts the genjutsu. Just to be vindictive, he makes it one where Cat is sitting with him in the kitchen instead of Kakashi-san.

“Good. Drop it, then take out your new needles and yarn.”

Sasuke does—anything to get rid of Kakashi-san and go back to his usual evening routine.

“Now feed a tiny bit of chakra to your eyes and, ah, shuffle until you get to your memory of Takahashi-san.”

“Shuffle?” Sasuke asks judgmentally. He’s pretty sure neither of his parents ever said the word “shuffle” in their lives.

His parents.

He’s not in the kitchen anymore, he’s out on the street, and it’s dark, and the iron smell of blood assaults his nose. He can hear screaming in the distance, and there’s blood on his mother’s face as she—as she—as she—Sasuke’s hand is poked, hard, and it’s That Man, poking him like he always does, but this time he’s going to kill Sasuke too. Except That Man pokes him in the forehead and this is his hand and Sasuke looks down and it’s not a finger anyway, it’s—it’s—it’s… a knitting needle?

The genjutsu breaks. Someone is screaming. The table in front of him is gone, pushed against the wall, and Kakashi-san is holding the knitting needle. Sasuke bursts into tears.

Kakashi-san awkwardly pulls Sasuke to his chest and starts rubbing circles into his back. The knitting needle pokes his hair each time Kakashi-san’s hand comes up to his shoulders, but it’s whatever, so long as he doesn’t stop. Sasuke is apparently pathetic now, because he needs this, this contact that proves he’s not then. At least the screaming stopped. Is it because it was him? Cat appears out of nowhere, and Sasuke throws himself out of Kakashi-san’s arms to get to him. Cat does pretty much the same thing, with the hug and the circles, but it’s Cat, so it’s automatically a thousand times better. Sasuke’s legs are shaking, so Cat slowly melts down to the floor with him.

“Was that really necessary?” Cat asks. Kakashi-san has unfortunately followed them down to the kitchen floor and squats there like some kind of stupid overgrown frog.

“Yes.” Kakashi-san says simply.

“Why?” Sasuke does not wail.

“Because of how the sharingan connects to your brain. It makes memories that are so close to reality that you can get lost in them if you don’t learn how to differentiate. Especially when they’re bad ones.”

“It’s not like Sasuke-kun is going to be casting many genjutsu.”

“But he is going to be sleeping,” Kakashi-san retorts.

Sasuke sleeps just fine, thanks, and says so.

“You’re not going to be able to use the poppy milk forever,” Kakashi-san says mildly. Sasuke pulls back so he can stare at Cat like the tattling tattler that he is. Cat’s mask is impassive, but the man sighs.

“That is true, Sasuke-kun.”

The idea of trying to sleep naturally again terrifies Sasuke. The first few nights he barely closed his eyes before he was waking up again, shaking and screaming and pouring sweat, his vision swimming with red. Cat disappeared one day and came back with the poppy milk. Sasuke doesn’t remember his dreams anymore and likes it that way.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Dizziness, low blood pressure, disorientation, memory loss, blackouts. Addiction that changes your brain and body chemistry in an exciting variety of negative ways,” Kakashi-san says promptly.

“So you do listen to some things the medics say, then, Taichou,” Cat says.

“I can quote the med-nin, even. ‘Poppy milk is a crutch, not a prosthetic limb.' Your clan always wavered between ignoring me and hating me, but they walked me through the basics of dealing with the sharingan so I wouldn’t totally lose it.”

Sasuke only realizes he’s breathing too fast again when Cat restarts rubbing his back. They sit there, on the kitchen floor, for some indeterminate length of time until Sasuke finally detaches from Cat and stands up. Kakashi-san is almost at eye level with him like this, which makes Sasuke hate him just that little bit more.

“Okay,” Sasuke says.

“Okay.” Kakashi-san says. “Let’s try again. Maybe think about Takahashi-san first this time, then feed chakra into your eyes and try the genjutsu.”

Sasuke doesn’t get it that time. Or the next time. But he’s stubborn, he’s coming to realize, and, eventually, he can make his hands move like Takahashi-san’s did in his memory. It’s kind of like copying a ghost. When he has a hand’s length of ugly orange scarf, Kakashi-san pronounces the lesson done and makes good on his promise to leave. Sasuke has never been so relieved to watch TV.

 

---

 

The next checkpoint, Cat and Kakashi-san somehow find out, is for Sasuke to fail the upcoming end-of-term assessment. If he can fail that, then he should get dropped from the A-Class to the B-Class, the students everyone expects to be career genin. And then, at the next end-of-term assessment, he can drop to the C-Class, where they’re pretty much just chakra-capable civilians who can’t grow up to be ninja. (“At least not during peacetime,” Kakashi-san says, more than a little bitterly. Sasuke does not want a lecture, so he does not ask what Kakashi-san means by it.) Sasuke was only vaguely aware that the academy even had B and C-Classes—the only acceptable placement for an Uchiha was at the highest level of achievement. Or maybe only for his father’s sons, because Sasuke remembers lots of Uchiha who weren’t ninja. They were smiths and housewives and jewelry-makers and potters and tailors and even farmers, sometimes.

“That’s good, Sasuke-kun,” Cat says. “You should think about what you do want to be when you grow up, not just what you don’t want.”

Sasuke feels a twisted sense of accomplishment when he turns in his paper full of wrong answers, loses another spar (against Sakura this time, one of the few civilian-born students in the A-Class and truly terrible at taijutsu), and fails to perform any jutsu. Iruka-sensei pulls Kakashi-san aside when Kakashi-san comes to pick Sasuke up. Sasuke is outside the room, so he can only hear a little bit, but it sounds mostly like Iruka-sensei yelling things about “wasted potential” and “you lazy” and “Hokage-sama says.” Sasuke doesn’t think he likes Iruka-sensei so much anymore.

He likes Mizuki-sensei even less, though, so when Mizuki-sensei asks him to come take a walk with him, Sasuke doesn’t move.

“I’m waiting for Kakashi-san. He’s my tutor.”

Mizuki-sensei snorts. “Fine job he’s doing, then.”

If forced, Sasuke would admit that Kakashi-san is actually fine. He’s taught Sasuke how to activate his sharingan without the memories of That Night drowning him. Sasuke now spends most of his time outside of class either knitting, which is strangely soothing, or capturing ordinary okay-quality moments with his sharingan, like eating dinner with Cat or the Inuzuka puppies playing at their compound. Kakashi-san says the best thing is to capture good memories, but Sasuke doesn’t think he’s ever going to really feel good again. Cat says that’s okay, though, so. Yeah.

Mizuki-sensei puts a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder and pulls him away from the wall, but the door suddenly opens to the room where Kakashi-san and Iruka-sensei were “talking.”

“But I am finished, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi-san says coolly. “Perhaps you could turn your focus to students who would appreciate it. I’m sure Naruto-kun would benefit from more one-on-one time.”

Iruka-sensei sputters, but Kakashi-san is already closing the door and grabbing Mizuki-sensei by the wrist. He separates Mizuki-sensei from Sasuke and looms over Sasuke’s former teacher in a menacing way. Mizuki-sensei shrinks back to the other side of the hallway.

“I’m sure you weren’t intending to take my ward away from school grounds unsupervised.”

“Since when is Uchiha-kun your ward?” Mizuki-sensei asks, and, yeah, this is the first Sasuke is hearing of this, too.

“According to Uchiha clan law, full adult membership in the clan is predicated on awakening a sharingan and the performance of the Grand Fireball jutsu. As you can see—” Kakashi-san pulls up his hitai-ate to reveal his lazily spinning sharingan and fix Mizuki-sensei with it.

“Aah, yes.”

“I can demonstrate the jutsu right here if you—”

“Ah, no, thank you, Hatake-sama, I understand.”

“See that you remember.”

They leave a very pale Mizuki-sensei flattening himself against the opposite hallway wall and Sasuke feeling like something important has happened, but he doesn’t know exactly what it was. Well. Other than finding out that Kakashi-san is somehow his… something.

Kakashi-san doesn’t say anything the whole way to the knitting circle he forces Sasuke to attend, but that’s okay. Sasuke knows how to deal with this. He waits until the grannies have all settled in with their needles clicking before he says, at the first break in the conversation:

“Kakashi-san adopted me behind my back.”

Kakashi-san’s eye goes wide, and he is instantly set upon by the whole crowd of old civilian women who manage to be both wrathful and adoring all at once. Sasuke captures the whole thing with his sharingan and wonders if “smug” might be his new definition of “happy.”

 

It is two days later that ROOT comes for him the first time.

Notes:

I didn't notice a increase in the chapter count, YOU noticed an increase in the chapter count.

Chapter 3

When it happens, Sasuke doesn’t know that the ninja coming for him are from ROOT. He doesn’t know that ROOT exists. He doesn’t know that ROOT is the reason Aburame Shino stopped talking and Yamanaka Ino started talking way too much. He doesn’t know that ROOT is the reason Cat just shrugs when Sasuke asks him, tentatively, hoping that the answer is “No” and hating himself for it, if Cat doesn’t have to go home to his own family sometime.

No. When it happens, Sasuke doesn’t know much of anything.

One moment he’s wandering around the village, definitely not lonely because Kakashi-san is off on a mission and ANBU like Cat aren’t allowed to just stroll around like normal people, and the next he’s lying on his back in the street and staring up at a huge growling dog’s muzzle, ears ringing and choking on the smells of blood and vomit.

A blast of heat accompanied by a spray of wood chips rolls over him and the dog. Sasuke squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to hyperventilate. Even with his eyes shut, he can tell that his sharingan have activated, and the last thing Sasuke wants to remember is whatever this is, so he tries to shut everything else out, but the memory of Kakashi-san’s drawling voice just won’t come. There’s gravel burning in scrapes all over his body, like Sasuke hit the ground at speed and rolled, and he can’t not smell the blood.

He finally manages to turn his sharingan off when there’s a thump and everything goes eerily quiet. Footsteps come towards him, crunching on the gravel, just like that night—but it’s daytime, and there’s a dog growling now, and it’s scary and Sasuke doesn’t know, and—a warm voice breaks into his mental spiral.

“It’s okay, Sasuke-kun. It’s okay, it’s Cat. It’s just me, Cat.”

Cat. It’s Cat. Cat is okay, and he’s here, and Sasuke is safe.

He doesn’t really believe it.

Sasuke’s muscles are tensed like rocks, but he manages to relax enough to turn his head to the side and see that it really is Cat. But. Cat’s arm hangs kind of weird, and there are bleeding rips in his uniform, and Sasuke feels a rush of pure loathing for himself. The Hokage had even said that Cat was recovering, but now he’s definitely hurt, even more, and it’s all Sasuke’s fault.

Weak.

He can hear That Man’s voice in his head, hears it most nights in his dreams now that they’re taking the poppy milk away from him, and it always says the same thing.

You’re useless and weak. Despise me, hate me. Live your loathsome life, little brother.

Sasuke curls into a ball and lets Cat pick him up.

---

Apparently, the dog’s name is Bull. He belongs to Kakashi-san, who was worried that someone might try to abduct Sasuke while he was gone for a few hours on a mission, so he left one of his summons to follow Sasuke around.

“Cat would never let that happen!” Sasuke yells at him. “Cat almost died, and your stupid dog didn’t do anything but stand there!”

Sasuke pushes away from the table and runs to what has become his room, slamming the door, because they might know he’s crying, but he doesn’t have to do it in front of them. A voice in his head that sounds like his mother’s says he should apologize to Kakashi-san, but that only makes him cry more. He wants his mom. He wants Shisui-nii. He wants Izumi-nee. He wants Himari-oba. He wants his cousins Kensuke and Isamu and Aoi and Eiji and—he wants to see his family and to not be getting almost kidnapped and for his life to make sense again and just—he just wants not this.

Later, much later, after Kakashi-san leaves, Cat comes into his room. Cat brings Sasuke a glass of water, which Sasuke drains. Cat refills it with a quick jutsu because he’s cool like that.

“You know, you should really apologize to Bull,” Cat says quietly. Sasuke looks at him. “Bull bit the shinobi who grabbed you and gave me the opening I needed. Then, he guarded you so I could focus on the attackers.”

Sasuke feels the hot flush of embarrassment in his cheeks. He nods. Cat leaves.

--

Two days later, ROOT tries again.

Sasuke wakes up slung over Cat’s shoulder with a fierce ringing in his ears and pain behind his eyes. Cat is running them both to the hospital, but he’s definitely limping. Sasuke knows that this injury, too, is his fault. He doesn’t know why Cat and Kakashi-san seem so certain it’s the same ROOT people trying to kidnap him both times—the ANBU who question Sasuke don’t say anything like that—but Sasuke is utterly done with going outdoors.

He spends the rest of the fall term break in Himari-obasan’s house, knitting and watching TV. There are a lot of dramas on the TV, mostly not about ninja, and Sasuke tries to imagine himself doing what the characters do. It’s hard. A lot of the characters mostly seem to get into trouble with romance, which doesn’t appeal to Sasuke at all. There’s a show about detectives, who seem kind of cool, but Sasuke can’t watch that for too long because it makes him think about the police force—the Uchiha Police Force. Sasuke probably can’t be a police detective either.

Late that night, when Cat comes to tuck Sasuke in—that is, to report that he’s heading out onto the roof for patrol—Sasuke closes his eyes and asks the question that’s been haunting him.

“Cat-san, am I making a mistake?”

Cat stills. He tilts his head at Sasuke. (He and Kakashi-san both do this. Also, Bull.)

“You know. By not being a ninja.”

Cat stays quiet. Sasuke suddenly can’t stop talking.

“The Hokage and Iruka-sensei and everyone want me to, and I was going to, and I really wanted to, before. But now, even though I said I didn’t want to, people still want me to, like a lot of people, and you got hurt, and I couldn’t do anything, just like before, and that’s how the world is, isn’t it, people are always going to be getting hurt if I don’t stop it, so—”

“Sasuke.”

Cat puts a hand on Sasuke’s chest. He realizes he’s breathing too hard and too fast. It takes him a minute to calm down, but Cat waits. Cat always waits for him.

“I don’t think you’re making a mistake.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

Sasuke swallows. It’s what he wanted Cat to say, but.

“How do you know?”

Cat sighs and sits down on the bed next to Sasuke, clasping his hands in his lap.

“No one knows the future. All we can do is make our choices, our own choices, when we can and do the best we can.”

Sasuke swallows. The next thing he has to say is shameful, but now that he’s started having this conversation, he has to say everything.

“But I don’t even know what I do want to do instead,” Sasuke says in his quietest voice.

Cat smooths Sasuke’s spiky hair down, just like he pets the cats that still hang around the Uchiha district, looking for people long gone.

“That’s okay. You’re only seven.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Cat says firmly. “Most people don’t have their whole lives mapped out when they’re seven. You shouldn’t have to either.”

“Shouldn’t?” That’s different than—

“Don’t. You don’t have to. You can take your time, Sasuke. We’ll be here—me and Kakashi-taichou—and we’ll make sure of it.”

---

Unfortunately, the fall term break isn’t that long. Bull accepts Sasuke’s apology with a solemn “woof” and a big lick across his face. They watch TV together, and Sasuke records Sharingan memory after Sharingan memory of Bull’s stubby legs kicking in doggy dreams while he lies upside down on the couch and slobbers.

Sasuke is not allowed to bring Bull to school, but he and Kakashi-san at least walk Sasuke there for his first day in the B-class. All the parents and aunts and uncles and older siblings and even other students still stare at them, but the whispers are different now.

Drop-out. Broken. Victim. Cursed.

Weak.

Sasuke holds his head high and stomps into his new classroom, ignoring the hot flush of shame that curls in his stomach. It’s okay. It’s his decision. It’s not a mistake. He’s not a mistake. Cat said so.

Sasuke’s first impression of B-class is that he hates it. It’s all the same stuff he already learned in A-class, just again and even slower, and the sensei won’t let him just sit in the back and knit because apparently the feeling is mutual. The other students glare at Sasuke with envy and open hatred when his purposely bad shuriken throws are still better than theirs, and the sensei give him detention every day for not reciting the Shinobi Code with the rest of the class.

Sasuke bears with it for a full week, occupying himself with finding ever more inventive ways to get things wrong, when, finally, something happens to break up the boredom.

Another new student comes to the B-class, a kid whose family just moved to Konoha. He has short black hair and black eyes and says his name is Sai. When the class breaks for lunch, Sai plonks his bento down right next to Sasuke, despite the other students’ horrified faces and frantic waving at Sai to join them instead.

“Hello. My name is Sai. Will you be my friend?”

Sasuke stares at him. Sai is utterly blank-faced. Then, like he forgot his cue in a play, Sai jolts and arranges his mouth into a vaguely smile-like shape. Sai waits. Smiling.

“No,” Sasuke says and hopes that will be the end of it.

He is disappointed.

Sai goes so far as to insist on staying after school with Sasuke for his detentions. The sensei raise their eyebrows, but despite Sasuke’s silent pleas, they just shrug and let Sai do what he wants. (Probably because they can tell Sasuke wants to get rid of him. The bastards. (He learned that word from when Kakashi-san was talking about ROOT, and it’s kind of his new favorite word.)) The only time Sai isn’t around is when Kakashi-san picks Sasuke up from school, which is a shame because Cat and Kakashi-san keep saying things like “it would be good for you to make a friend your own age,” and Sasuke thinks they would shut up if they were the ones with the weirdo stalker. (The way they say it, it’s like they don’t quite understand what it means but know it’s what they’re supposed to say. Sasuke can break them. He just needs ammunition.)

Unfortunately, three weeks in, Sasuke loses his mind. That’s the only explanation. Kakashi-san was supposed to get him that afternoon, but when Sasuke leaves the Academy building, he doesn’t see Kakashi-san’s stupid hair sticking up over the crowd. Like clockwork, Sai walks straight at him, doing his creepy sort-of smile. If Sasuke doesn’t do something, Sai will follow him all the way to the Uchiha district before Sasuke can finally get rid of him with the security seals. Sasuke spins and looks for something, anything, anyone else and sees—Naruto. He's sitting alone on the swings, like he always does while everyone else gets picked up. Sasuke knows people avoid Naruto. Civilians, especially, avoid Naruto, and Sai’s family are civilians, even though he’s freakishly good at all the ninja skills tests in class.

Sasuke speedwalks over to Naruto. The blonde looks up with wide eyes as Sasuke plants himself firmly in Naruto’s space.

“Talk to me until that guy goes away and I’ll—I’ll—" Sasuke thinks fast “I’ll give you a scarf.” It’s getting cold. People like scarves when it gets cold. Naruto’s eyes widen even further, but then, mercifully, he starts talking, babbling something about ramen. Sasuke tunes him out pretty much immediately and positions himself so he can see Sai out of the corner of his eye. Sai has, blessedly, stopped. He’s staring at Naruto and Sasuke, forehead creased in confusion.

“—what do you think, uh, Sasuke?”

Right, talking with Naruto means actually talking to Naruto. Sasuke takes a wild stab at the question he’s been asked.

“Soba is better than ramen.”

Naruto’s jaw actually drops open, and he launches into a passionate tirade complete with waving arms and flying spit. Sai still looks confused more than anything else, but as the yard empties, he finally turns and leaves too.

“Huh,” Naruto says at an actually normal volume, “no one came to get him either.”

Sasuke starts. He never noticed, but it’s true. No one has ever come to meet Sai, which is another check in the “Weird” column if Sasuke’s ever seen one. Everyone else—especially the civilians—gets walked to and from the Academy.

Sasuke and Naruto stare at each other. Sasuke heaves a mental sigh and turns around to walk back to the Uchiha quarter. Better get this over with. When Naruto doesn’t follow, Sasuke looks back over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. If Naruto’s not coming, then far be it for Sasuke to force him. But as soon as Naruto sees Sasuke looking, he leaps off the swing and comes bounding after him.

It feels like a very long walk. Naruto physically runs circles around Sasuke in excitement, his mouth running constantly about this and that and the other thing. It’s about a million times more social interaction than Sasuke is used to (Sai is, Sasuke can grudgingly admit, at least a very quiet stalker), and he’s exhausted before they’re even halfway back.

It hurts to hear Naruto call out “We’re home!” when they open Himari-obasan’s door. It’s not like there’s anyone there to reply. Fortunately, Naruto shuts up after he sees Sasuke’s dark look.

Unfortunately, Sasuke is, even now, his mother’s son. Appropriate guest etiquette is drilled into him just as deeply as the Grand Fireball jutsu. Sasuke gets Naruto cold barley tea from the little pitcher he and Cat keep in the refrigerator and assembles a quick plate of snacks. If all the snacks are tomatoes, well, it is Sasuke’s house.

Naruto seems awed into a rare silence, clutching his glass like a lifeline and staring at Sasuke with his big blue eyes. Again. Sasuke munches on the tomatoes and avoids eye contact. Aggressively.

Finally, when Naruto gingerly picks up a little sliced cherry tomato half like he’s never seen one before, Sasuke stands.

“Wait here.”

Sasuke goes into his bedroom and pulls out The Scarf Box. He’s made many, many scarves by now, but it’s not like Cat can wear them with his ANBU uniform, and Kakashi-san has even more scarves than Sasuke. Who else is he going to give them to, the Hokage? Naruto can have three.

And Sasuke knows just which three—they’re blatantly, glaringly, offensively orange. Not the first one he made, because Kakashi-san insisted on mounting that one on Sasuke’s wall in all its knobbly, wobbly glory, but scarves two through four. Sasuke is never going to wear those monstrosities. He shoves The Scarf Box back into position in the closet and returns to the kitchen.

“Here,” Sasuke says and thrusts the rolled-up scarves at Naruto.

“Uh, really?”

“I said I would give you a scarf, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but…” Naruto trails off before giving Sasuke a suspicious eye. “You’re not going to say I stole them, are you?”

“What?” Sasuke is offended. “No. Take them, they’re orange. Now, get out.”

Naruto seems to understand this much better than he does the gift. He clutches the fabric to his chest like a lifeline and scrams.

Notes:

How is this character study-canon divergence growing a plot?! I don't know, but it's happening. Send help. Or comments. Those are nice too.

Notes:

I never thought I'd be writing a fic about Sasuke, since he's easily the least compelling of Team 7 to me in canon. But this idea was just itching for me to write it (and thanks to Callian31 in the Hellbent discord for giving me the ompf to actually post).

Edit: We'll see where this one goes, folks!