Glass Cage

by Roserinsneji

Summary:

Three years have passed since Sasuke abandoned the village. Neji was only fourteen then — naive, loyal, and prepared to risk everything to bring a rogue shinobi home. But he never said he disagreed with Sasuke’s choice. In fact, part of him understood it all too well.

Now, fate throws them together in the most twisted way imaginable: captured by a lunatic obsessed with collecting kekkei genkai like novelties. Locked in a cage with nothing but time and tension, the two are forced to cooperate if they want to escape. But before the planning begins, the silence demands to be filled — and conversation becomes inevitable.

Their paths should have diverged once they broke free. But somehow, they didn’t.

TLDR: Sasuke and Neji discover their similarities whilst they're trapped in a psycho's basement. Neji silently suffers, Sasuke wants to kick him in the face, isn't that the perfect setup for a blossoming romance?

Chapter 1: Captivity

Notes:

Sasuke's POV to begin with. I hope you guys enjoy, I've never written him before!

Also bear in mind, English is not my first language so be nice to me please and thank you ╮(╯_╰)╭

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The pipe above Sasuke's head has been actively dripping — with what he told himself was water — for the past couple of hours at the very least. At first, it was a minor inconvenience, but the longer the relentless noise continued, the more it irked him.

He had half a mind to kick the entire pipe clean off, but then he'd have a different problem; that water — it was definitely water — spilling on out like a dam split open by autumn rains.

No, better to leave it alone, he thought. Better not try to struggle against those restraints, that already flayed his wrists raw. The rusty metal was loose enough to allow for some wiggle room, and coincidentally — most certainly on purpose — loose enough for the rough material to scrape skin every time he moved. As if his captor had shackled him with sandpaper deliberately.

This was all so stupid. So pointless.

He had never been more furious with himself. Him, Uchiha Fucking Sasuke, in captured.

By a moron, no less.

No — worse.

By an insane moron.

He had no memory of the fight with this man. He hadn't even seen his attacker's face, only ever heard his voice through the bars of his enclosure, though this bastard had made sure to darken the room every time he entered it. This, Sasuke figured, had served two real purposes; one, Sasuke could not hold eye-contact with somebody he could not see, and thus, could not trap them in a genjutsu. And two, he could never see this man and allow his features to be etched in his mind for eternity.

Because he was going to get out of here. And when — because it was a when and not an if — he does, he will find this man. And make sure he wishes he'd never been born.

Sasuke's list of people he wished to murder for wronging him was steadily growing, but this cockroach who imprisoned him, chained him to a wall and fed him scraps, had officially made the top of the shitlist.

This room he was trapped in, this cage, wasn't large by any means. Only enough for him to not be able to reach the bars separating him from the entrance; only enough to keep that man out of his reach. No windows, no way to tell the time of day or any hints of his location.

No vents.

No holes.

No way out but that door.

He groaned as he let his head drop against the cold, mossy concrete as he wriggled his fingers ever so slightly. His chains have been suspended a couple feet above him; which essentially never allowed him to drop his hands under shoulder height. If he wished to get any blood flow to his fingers, he needed to lean forward — already painful due to the sandpaper he had for shackles — and twist his arm upwards until his elbows had been raised higher than his wrists.

As time passed, that anger, that blazing wrath in his chest violent and all consuming, had only festered. When he got out, when he got his hands on that cretin, there'd be nothing of him left. Nothing but limbs, guts and viscera strewn across the floor of this wretched place.

Oh, yes. It will be beautiful.

And as he gasped for air, crawled at Sasuke's feet, begged for mercy, the bastard would understand — truly, fully comprehend — why no one. No one. Crossed Uchiha Sasuke.

The door — that door, the only way out — had groaned open with its usual bone-jarring screech, it always did. He had been used to this routine.

Steps. Door. Lights.

Then, food.

Sometimes nothing, but heavy breathing for minutes. Sasuke had tried taunting it before to no avail. The only thing he ever received in turn was hushed, excited laughter, as if his emotional turmoil was fine entertainment for this sick fuck.

This time though, the guy went off-script. As the door had opened — not opened, swung, hard enough to slam into the wall behind it, a tall, large silhouette passed the threshold of the room. The Uchiha boy could scarcely believe it. This was it. His chance. He'd finally—

His breath caught in his throat.

No.

No way.

He searched for his visitor's gaze, just wanting one look his way… and most painfully was only met with empty orbs. No pupil, no iris. Just white, foggy vacancy. He was blind.

The figure dragging himself across the floor was massive, his steps heavy enough to shake the room. The rags clinging to his frame were barely clothes, torn and threadbare, stretched thin over a body built of brute force. Muscle upon muscle, grotesquely oversized, his head too small for the rest of him. His arms were a patchwork of scars, so densely layered it was hard to find a single inch of untouched skin.

Sasuke somehow knew instantly — this was not him. This was not the man who stood outside his cage, leering, panting, taunting.

No. This one was a subordinate. A tool.

Something twisted in Sasuke's chest, something tight, sharp and utterly unwelcome. Something he'd rather not name. The stranger lumbered closer, his thick, stubby fingers fiddled with the keychain on his belt. It was only now that Sasuke noticed, he was carrying something. Something large, wrapped in white—

Wait, fuck. That's not something.

That's someone.

The boy's jaw grew taut, teeth clenched so tight the pressure crept up into his temples as the cage slowly opened. He strained against his shackles, the pain shooting up his arms relentlessly at the meagre attempt, even if it had taken all of his willpower and strength to try.

He stilled when the large man dropped the weight he carried like a bag of rice. The body hit the floor with a soft thump, limp and unmoving, Sasuke couldn't even be sure it wasn't already a corpse. He stretched his neck to try and get a better glimpse at the pile of white fabric and chocolate brown hair. The cloth had come loose in the fall, revealing a pale shoulder, a wrist, a sliver of bruised skin. No twitch. No groan. No sign of life.

For a blind man, the goliath had made quick work of picking up a second pair of shackles from the floor; grabbing the body — corpse, whatever — by the hair, and hauled it upright, dragging it toward the bars. Head lolled, neck limp, like a puppet with its strings cut.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

He recognised that face.

It has been years since he had seen it, and it sure has changed. The boyish softness was gone. The round cheeks had sharpened into angles, the jaw now defined, porcelain-pale skin mottled with purple and red, scraped raw in places. But even beneath the bruises, with his lip split, and blood crusted along his jawline, Sasuke recognised Hyūga Neji.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" he hissed out. The man didn't answer.

Go fucking figure.

"Hey fatass! I'm talking to you!"

No answer.

He didn't even flinch. His movements remained calm and practiced as he handcuffed Neji — fuck he really was here, wasn't he? — to the bars of this oversized cage. Except, unlike Sasuke, the Hyūga's arms were stretched high above his head, wrists pulled taut, body forced into a posture that forced his spine to be straight. Painful on purpose. Like punishment.

Sasuke stared, heart hammering violently against his ribcage. Neji didn't move. Didn't even twitch.

His head tipped slightly to the side, hair falling over one eye, like a dark curtain. The Uchiha boy couldn't be sure this wasn't just his former comrade's corpse. That uncertainty had what little food he had been given threaten to come right back up.

He barely processed the cage closing. The door screeching. The silence that followed.

Was this a new form of torture? Was he supposed to watch as someone he used to work with, someone he barely knew other than a name, a title — and the blood-boiling arrogance to go with it — and a kekkei genkai, slowly decayed only a mere metre from him?

What the fuck for? What was the aim here?

Why would someone—

His mind screeched to a halt as the faintest groan escaped Neji. His chest hadn't been rising and falling visibly enough, not in the position he was in. But the dead didn't groan. They most certainly didn't try to move and find that they couldn't. Didn't blink, however slowly.

Neji was alive. And returning to cognisance, little by little.

Something in Sasuke's chest unfurled, like a coil wound tight to the point of snapping slowly allowing to stretch out again. Relief, except he didn't want to feel relieved. He shouldn't have cared. He severed those ties years ago.

He wanted to scoff at himself. Ties? What ties did he have with this conceited, overweening asshole?

None. Exactly.

Neji's eyes slowly peered around the room, expression slightly strained, but otherwise hollow, as was his gaze, as if he were still processing, still analysing his predicament. His head lifted, just barely, the scratched metal of his hitai-ate catching the sparse artificial light that filtered through the cracks in the ceiling.

He tried his wrists again, then winced, when the feedback he received from his body was a negative one. A painful one.

Well, as shit as my situation is, at least they didn't tie me up like that.

"There's no point," Sasuke muttered. There was some enjoyment in watching Neji's movement still, lavender eyes widen in shock. Then, slowly, his head turned — just enough to bring Sasuke into view.

Presumably.

"You…?"

Oh how he wished he could have just put his foot through this bastard's skull. What a stupid question. Maybe if he hadn't spoken at all, Sasuke still would've wanted to kick him.

This place had him pent up.

In the end, he didn't attack — how the fuck could he — merely let his head meet the concrete behind him as he observed the other. "Me."

Neji's expression remained infuriatingly blank. Empty.

"What is this place?" he queried, voice hoarse, scraped raw from disuse, but his tone was maddeningly measured. Still that Hyūga calm, like he was above it all — even here, even now.

Sasuke snorted. "Your guess is as good as mine."

No response. And as for Sasuke, well, he refused to offer anything more. He let the silence stretch, heavy and unkind, like everything else in this hellhole. Though he couldn't cling to the quiet for long, when the sound of that dripping pipe relentlessly crawled back to the forefront of his mind.

He exhaled, sharper than he initially intended. "How did you get here?"

Neji didn't speak right away. His gaze lingered on the other. There it was that irritating look. He was analysing him. Like he had always done. Like he thought he knew a single fucking thing.

"I don't remember," he then whispered, and for but a moment something pained and vulnerable flickered across his features. But only for a moment. Still, Sasuke's keen eyes saw. "You?"

"I don't remember," the raven-haired boy echoed, voice falling flat with defeat. "I hardly remember the man who kidnapped me."

"He never…" Neji’s jaw clenched, the muscles twitching beneath his skin. He shut his eyes, tight, as if trying to block out something that had already carved itself into the inside of his skull. He didn’t speak for a long time. When he did, it was like dragging glass across his tongue.

"I never saw his face. Just his hands."

Sasuke tilted his head, brow lifting. "His hands?"

"Yes"

“What were they like?” There was disbelief in his voice, and maybe a hint of mockery.

Neji’s lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Then, with a voice like frost cracking over stone: "He put them where they didn’t belong."

A heartbeat. Silence. Uncomfortable silence.

“So I tore his finger off with my teeth.”

The silence that followed was different. Not heavy. Not cruel. Just stunned.

And then, without meaning to, without even knowing why, Sasuke laughed. It was short and sharp and ugly, like something broken escaping his chest. But it was real.

That was why they had tied Neji up as if he were a pig bleeding out. What Sasuke thought would be a cruel punishment, truly was punishment. He didn't know much about this boy. Only that he was apparently wicked-powerful, and yet Naruto of all people had defeated him, with a single punch, no less. Some genius he must have been. But credit be given where it's due, this certainly earned him a couple brownie-points in Sasuke's book.

"That is quite all right," he huffed out, shaking his head in gleeful disbelief. "I'll tear off the rest of them."

Neji's brow quirked into an unimpressed arch. "Is that so."

His scepticism irked Sasuke, but it didn't take away that hint of joy the knowledge of his captor suffering brought him.

"Can't let you have all the fun."

Neji’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "You have an odd idea of fun."

Sasuke tilted his head, eyes empty, his smile completely gone. "There is satisfaction in revenge. Vindication."

"You would say that." Neji's head slowly dipped forward, as if he were attempting to nod. Not agreement. Not mockery. Just quiet resignation.

And somehow, that calm — that tone — was worse than any insult. The only modicum of emotion he’s gotten from this guy so far, and it was… resignation?

It lit something in Sasuke. Something that had him circling back to that fantasy of kicking him in the face. Hard.

Chapter 2: Do Not Engage

Notes:

You can really tell I'm more comfortable writing Neji because what the fawk was this absolute word vomit JESUS LAWD.

Anyways. Enjoy your neji-soup.

TW: I actually describe the moment the evil guy's finger goes bye bye, so read at your own risk?

Three Weeks Ago

Solo missions were not even remotely out of the ordinary for Neji, especially since he made jōnin. They were expected of him now, quick errands here and there or even assignments that lasted for weeks, months at a time. The kind of work that didn't make headlines but kept the village breathing, the wheels turning, especially with resources stretched as thin as they were. Along with the Sandaime, Konoha devastatingly lost much of its seasoned shinobi, and while Lady Tsunade had done her best to fill the gaps, no amount of rookie training could replace experience. And Neji, unfortunately had plenty of that.

Not even this mission was perilous. Not every task demanded his intelligence or tactical prowess, or even his natural talent as a byakugan user. Sometimes, he was sent to man a listening outpost buried so deep in enemy territory he could barely recall the cadence of his own country's patrols. Three weeks in a bunker carved into the side of a mountain, its concrete walls thick enough to shield him from the temperamental weather of the territory, but not enough to keep him as warm as he would've liked to be. Three weeks listening to the thick foreign dialects of the border patrol, their voices bleeding through unsecured channels and crackling static.

It was a simple job. Listen. Record. Report.

Though leadership wasn't looking for idle chatter of the local police force, no. In a country untouched by shinobi, not protected by a hidden village, rogue-nin activity was rampant. Not all rogue-nin concerned Konoha. Just the ones that belonged to them. Neji's orders were clear however:

Do not engage.

He was here to gather intelligence. Capturing rogue-nin would be up to the ANBU.

Neji never turned his nose up at a mission. He didn’t believe in tasks being beneath him — and even if he did, he’d never say so aloud. Discipline was second nature. So, when the Hokage handed him this assignment, he accepted it without complaint, without hesitation.

Still, even he had to admit… this was dull. Necessary, yes. Strategic, certainly. But for someone trained to see through walls and utilise his ability to nullify any foe's tenketsu, sitting in a bunker scribbling down intercepted chatter felt... anticlimactic. Like a weapon sharpened for battle being used to… peel an apple.

The glamorous life of a jōnin indeed.

 

Two Days Ago

On an especially cold Saturday afternoon, things shifted. Chatter had spiked across all monitored frequencies, to the point of the young jōnin barely being able to keep up with the influx of transmissions. For the first time since arriving, he found himself reaching for the notebook he'd brought, hastily scribbling down fragments of intel.

Because instead of a conversation between two border guards about their wives' cooking, reports flew back and forth of activity. Unidentified activity.

And then, the small, red light on the control panel blinked to life, and Neji froze.

Incoming transmission.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He adjusted in the stiff, metal chair, fingers hovering over the receiver as static gave way to a voice — frantic, strained, and unmistakably human.

"Konoha Listening Post 234, respond. This is ANBU operative codename Hawk, clearance level Alpha. Identification: zero-zero-nine-seven-four-five. Priority transmission — Class S emergency. Repeat: Class S emergency."

Neji's jaw tightened. The voice tore through the white noise, low, rough, and unmistakably local. Not just from the Land of Fire, but from deep within its heart. The cadence was familiar: the tone and lilt of someone raised in Konoha. It was the kind of detail only a native would notice.

Whoever this was, he sounded like one of his people. Or perhaps he imitated it rather skilfully.

But Neji had been briefed. Extensively. Konoha Intelligence had made the protocol clear: this outpost was for passive surveillance only. No transmissions in. No transmissions out. No exceptions.

Any ANBU agent would know that and wouldn't request a response. And yet, this one had sent a code-locked message. Embedded clearance level. Identification string. All formatted to ANBU standards — at least, as far as Neji could tell. And that was exactly the issue.

He wasn’t ANBU. He was a jōnin.

He received no training in their transmission protocols, hadn't been granted access to their cipher layers or emergency override codes. So now, he was left with a gnawing, urgent question:

Was this man truly a Konoha-nin, reaching out under extraordinary circumstances, ones so severe that it forced him to break protocol? Or was he pretending, using enough insider knowledge to bait a response?

Neji's byakugan flared to life — veins rising at his temples as his gaze swept the perimeter of the outpost first. Three hundred meters, then further. His keen eyes swept through the silence between foliage and tree-bark, every movement of every forest animal, mountain-goat, but no sign of a person, not in his direct vicinity, not close enough to even remotely pose a threat.

Wherever this transmission had originated — whoever sent it — it couldn't have come from a handheld radio.

The message did not repeat. No other came.

Too many variables pointed toward forgery. If an ANBU required assistance, he would not reach out to an outpost unmanned most days of the year. And he would know that Neji had no way of verifying his ninja identification either. Too suspicious.

So even as the transmission tugged at the edges of his conscience, even as the silence felt heavier than before, Neji made his decision.

He did not respond.

 

Present

He still could scarcely comprehend it. One moment, he'd been flipping through frequencies, listening to conversations that had returned to mundane, boring exchanges about food, family or even an upcoming film in the city. The next, the stench of decay assaulted his senses, a dull, numb ache blooming in his limbs as he finally, slowly returned into his body. He hadn't been unconscious. No — he was certain of that. Yet, he couldn't recall how he ended up here. Why his knees pressed against cold, rough concrete, his arms twisted back and restrained uncomfortably. His fingers twitched, barely, and as he tried to struggle against the iron hold, it tightened. He was not tied up but held down by a person with considerably more physical prowess than he himself possessed.

"Welcome back, Neji." The voice drifted down from above — uncomfortably close, yet when Neji's eyes flitted up, he was met with a face covered by dark fabric, nothing but darkness staring back at him from under a hood. As the words slithered through the air with sickeningly sweet mockery, every nerve in his body recoiled. He wished, instinctively to curl inward.

He recognised this voice.

ANBU operative codenamed Hawk—

The same man who had sent the transmission. But the cadence was wrong, now stripped of its Konoha dialect, the subtle inflections that marked a native speaker. Gods. Gods it was a trap. This man took him prisoner.

His breath came shallow, ragged as he realised his byakugan was dormant — he couldn't activate it, his chakra didn't respond to command.

Cold, elongated fingers grazed his cheek, and when he jolted away from the touch, his jaw was caught in a firm, unforgiving grip.

The stranger gave a breathy chuckle, one full of excitement barely contained. "You danced well, little bird. Slipped through my fingers more times than I care to admit. But you see…" he leaned in, his face still not visible to Neji, though his breath brushed the boy's ear in a whisper. "I always win. Eventually."

Neji gave away nothing. No panic, not even a quietly uttered where am I? Even if the question burned behind his eyes anyways. His kidnapper knew him by name. Had been hunting him like prey, if his words were to be believed. Why?

He didn't need to ask. The man continued anyway, voice dipping into a mockery of tenderness as his grip loosened, fingers trailing down Neji’s neck in a slow, deliberate caress. The touch was invasive, blood-boilingly gentle. Like he wasn't a person, but a prized trinket. Disgusting.

"Konoha's very own Hyūga prodigy," the man murmured, almost lovingly. "What a glittering gem you’ll be in my collection. But first…" his tone sharpened as his grip grew tight around the boy's throat. Neji didn't let his breath hitch. Didn't allow himself to falter. Not in front of this scum.

"That curse seal of yours."

A bony index finger pressed against the leaf symbol engraved into his hitai-ate. The boy's muscles stiffened.

"Such an eyesore," the man scoffed. "I'll burn it off, if I must. Carve it out. Whatever it takes. And then, I'll take what's mine."

His?

He wants the byakugan? The mere idea should have made him laugh. Of course, as if. If he can remove that seal, he can take it.

Except Neji knew that won't happen. His jaw tightened as he stared up into the dark void in silent defiance. He could not move, not really, and he had been stripped of his most powerful weapon, but if this deranged man lived under the impression that this rendered him docile, he'd been dead wrong.

Time crawled. The stranger’s hand resumed its slow exploration, gliding over Neji’s skin with the idle indulgence of someone admiring a trophy. He hummed softly, tunelessly, the sound crawling beneath Neji’s skin as every muscle in his body coiled, waiting, but he gave away none of it. When that offending hand trailed its way up his throat, then moved to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, Neji took the opportunity offered on a silver plate.

"So quiet. Not so feisty now, are y—"

His head snapped forward with brutal force, jaws clamping down on the nearest target — two fingers caught between his teeth. The man shrieked, a sound high and animalistic, as Neji bit down with everything he had. Bone crunched. Muscles tore. Blood burst across his tongue, hot and metallic, as the index and middle finger severed from the hand.

Perhaps he should have waited until he had more information to attack. But in that moment, the element of surprise was on his side. The grip around his arms loosened as the large figure moved out from behind him, lumbering after the howling man, not so smug now as he went stumbling back against a shabby table, clutching the mangled stump.

Neji spat the digits to the floor. His legs surged beneath him, muscles screaming in protest as he pushed himself upright, no matter how fast he may have wanted to move, his body simply staggered behind his mind. His eyes scanned the dim space for any sign of escape—

There. A staircase, half-concealed behind a splintered doorway.

He wasn't about to find out whether or not he could still put up a fight without his byakugan. He wasn't about to allow himself to be kept here, especially after what he had just done.

"Don't just dawdle you imbecile, get him!" the man yowled, his voice strained from the agony.

Neji tore through the room, grabbing anything within reach, and hurled them to the ground behind him. Wood splintered, furniture toppled, glass exploded against the gravel-strewn floor. Anything, anything to buy him more time before the goliath gave chase.

The sound of heavy boots grew closer, and his body hadn't moved nearly fast enough for his taste. Just as he passed the threshold of the staircase, about to plant his bare foot firmly on the first step, a large, calloused palm grabbed him by the back of his neck and hurled him back into the room. His spine painfully met a fallen table, wood breaking under his weight as he heavily landed atop the rubble. Pain shot through every inch of him like a bolt of lightning, immobilising him for a moment.

As his tall foe approached, his hand hastily, urgently searched the debris. A weapon, or anything he could use as one. His fingers grazed something sharp, something metal.

His eyes flared with recognition, and a hint of newfound of confidence; he had a letter opener.

He sprung to his feet, then lunged. The blade tore into flesh with a sickening resistance, slicing through skin and muscle. But the giant didn’t flinch. That same brutal hand shot out again, stubby fingers curling around Neji’s throat, lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease. Neji jabbed the letter opener again, and again — each thrust more frantic than the last as that grip grew dangerously tight. Received no response. As if the blood spilling to the floor, onto his clothes was a figment of his imagination, nothing more.

"Don't kill him, Koji," the cloaked figure wheezed, still clutching what was left of his hand. "I need him. He will pay for this."

Neji didn't remember what happened after that. Like a piece of film torn in half, the pictures stopped spinning.

His torso hung limp, shoulders pulled taut, arms stretched wide and bound against cold metal bars. The position was unnatural, cruelly engineered to keep him suspended just enough to rob him of breath, of movement. Every breath scraped against his lungs like sandpaper.

Then, a voice.

"There's no point."

It was rougher, deeper than when he'd last heard it, and yet, he recognised it all the same.

Still, he had to look.

He turned his head, slow and aching, and there — across from him, wrists shackled to the concrete wall, posture deceptively relaxed — sat none other than Uchiha Sasuke.

His hair was longer now, front pieces messier, strands falling over his brow. Shadows clung to his pale face, the bruises on his jaw, much more defined than the last time Neji's seen it. Those onyx eyes met his own, void of anything discernible, save for a hint of amusement, grotesquely out of place in a situation such as this.

"You…?" he breathed out. It's been so long. Three years. Neji had become a completely different person in that time, and he had no doubt the same was true for the other. This boy might have worn the face of his former comrade, but he was no longer the same Sasuke he laid down his life for, no longer the same lost soul he swore could be led back to the light still. Those eyes were cold, calculating, empty. Dark pools of all the horrors they had seen.

Sasuke's head dropped against the wall. His lips curled into something that might've been a smirk, had it not been so devoid of any warmth.

"Me."

 

Chapter 3: Silence

Notes:

Plenty of bickering in this one, not much action. Let's hope the boys cook something up soon!

As the minutes melted into hours, and his sense of time slowly withered away with every ragged, pained breath, Neji had done all he could to remain vigilant. His eyes scanned every crack in the discoloured concrete, every rusted seam in the metal bars, every sliver of light that managed to slip through the gloom. The cell was sparse, but he committed every detail to memory. His memory was all he had right now.

This room — no, this entire structure — had to be underground. Or perhaps, like the listening outpost, it was buried deep within a mountain. The exposed metal pillars jutting from beneath the concrete floor suggested either possibility. There was no way to tell if he was still in the same region, or even the same country. The air was stale, unmoving, and as for sound… only the quiet breathing of his cellmate, and water dripping from a nearby pipe.

His legs had been tucked beneath him, knees pressing into the cold floor. He hadn't moved in a while — save for some sorry attempts to get more air into his lungs — but he was almost certain his ankles weren't restrained. A strange oversight, if it was one. Perhaps they simply thought he wouldn't be able to use it to his advantage.

Dead wrong. Once again. For someone who apparently has been after him for quite some time, his kidnapper sure had a strange habit of simply underestimating him. Insulting, on one hand. A blessing, on the other. If he could recover enough strength, there was a chance. He could grip the bars above, brace his core and kick upward, then simply catch the bars with his toes, maybe even pull himself into a crouch. It would be awkward, painful and far from graceful, especially without being able to utilise his chakra. But it was possible and that was all he needed.

Still, the manoeuvre would be costly. His reserves were low, his body not responding to command as it should, and the effort alone might exhaust what he already didn't have much of. So, before he did anything he needed to know, once he moved, once he had his shackles before him, would there be anywhere to go? Would it mean anything?

He couldn't afford to waste strength on a gesture that led nowhere.

"So. Where were you when the bastard took you?" Sasuke broke the silence eventually, seeing as there was nothing else to do for them but talk.

Neji, however, needed to be careful of what he gave away. This boy was no longer on his side. In fact, he was one of the rogue-nin Konoha had been eager to find and throw behind bars.

"On a mission," he attempted to shrug, though the air on his tongue tasted like stale stone, sweat and immediate regret. The sharp pain shooting all the way into his spine was a stark reminder for him to not even attempt such movements. As if the constant ongoing pressure on his torso wasn't enough, of course.

Sasuke clicked his tongue, irritation flickering across his face. "Yes, but where?"

"That's need-to-know."

"Seriously?" the boy shot back, expression somewhere between stunned and outraged. "You’re strung up like a hog for slaughter and you’re still guarding intel like it’s going to save you?

Neji's gaze didn't waver as he articulated each word carefully. "Unlike you, I do not turn my back on my village on a whim."

There was a sharpness to his tone. A hint of reprehension in the otherwise quiet voice. The silence stretched out as Sasuke's mouth parted, supposedly to snap back with an immediate retort, but no words rolled down his tongue at first. Then, he pressed his lips together, a slow aggravated breath escaping through his nose.

"Oh, fuck you."

The Hyuuga boy was quick with his response, however. "Not the time and place, I'm afraid."

Sasuke's gaze turned skyward, as if he were hoping for divine intervention, or merely praying to any deity that didn't listen for the last grains of his sanity. Neji should not have found that as satisfying as he did, but in his current situation, he had to take every single crumb of joy — or anything akin to it — he could get a hold of. So, he enjoyed the other's displeasure, revelled in it, even.

"I miss those blissful three minutes,” Sasuke hissed, voice low and venomous, "when I thought you were dead."

Neji's brow arched. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have dignified such a remark with a response. But these weren’t normal circumstances. And silence, here, felt too much like surrender.

"Three minutes," he echoed quietly, dryly. "Why, I'm charmed. I would've expected you to only spare a glance, if that for my corpse."

The words were crude. Unlike him and his upbringing in so many ways, and yet, they came so naturally to him now. His corpse. If he doesn't figure out a way to escape this place, that might just become a reality far sooner than he'd expect.

Sasuke's lips twitched, as if he found that declaration amusing, though whatever expression came to the boy naturally, he immediately smothered it. "Don't flatter yourself, Hyūga."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare."

The quiet didn't linger long. Sasuke almost rushed to fill it.

"You were conscious. Up there," he nodded toward the ceiling. "Did you… see anything? Hear anything?"

The change of topic was abrupt, yet somehow not unexpected. Neji didn’t mind. This was information he could share. It didn’t compromise the mission. And it might just keep them alive.

"They want my byakugan," he explained. "The man spoke of a… collection. He referred to me as part of it. A trophy, I suppose. Now, if he wishes to acquire—"

“Fuck,” Sasuke breathed, the word escaping like a curse he hadn’t meant to say aloud. His shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, he looked less like a rogue shinobi and more like a boy who’d just realized he was prey.

“He wants mine too,” he murmured, quieter now. “That has to be it. That’s why I’m here."

Neji tilted his head, feigning innocence. "No other reason? You haven’t betrayed anyone recently?"

Onyx eyes snapped to him, dark and sharp. "I swear to fuck, Hyūga. I will find a way to scalp you."

The response, of course was immediate and unbothered. "I sincerely wish you the best of luck."

It wasn't as though he didn't take Sasuke seriously. Though that was part of it. In reality, seeing the other with so much energy and fighting spirit filled him with a sense of confidence he wouldn't have held otherwise. There was two of them, and whilst Neji had his qualms about his former comrade, he did have to admit, the two of them were both top of their class way back when. Neji was number one, the best, the strongest; and Sasuke had been revered for his genius even before he graduated the academy. If they worked together, even begrudgingly, they might stand a chance against the man Neji had already left bleeding.

"How long have you been here?"

"That's need-to-know," Sasuke mocked, though upon receiving a rather unimpressed, flat glance from Neji in turn, he scoffed. "Three days. Give or take."

"And they haven't touched you?"

"Not like they did you," Sasuke muttered, his gaze flicking toward Neji. He didn't need to elaborate, though the Hyūga deeply appreciated the fact that he chose decorum over mockery when it came to such matters. It was a small gesture, though sometimes, nothing more was required.

He exhaled slowly. "It's possible they won't attempt an extraction until they take mine."

"I just need a clear shot of that bastard's face and he's done for. No one can escape my genjutsu."

"Ah," How naïve. "Have you tried activating your dōjutsu since you ended up here?"

Sasuke blinked, then frowned. "No? They always darken the room when they come down here. Why would I waste chakra?"

"Because I, for one cannot use mine."

That landed.

Sasuke’s frown lingered, his gaze sharpening with something colder — less irritation, more calculation. He shifted slightly against the wall, the chains above him rattling faintly, but his posture remained composed. Controlled. As if he were already re-evaluating every assumption he’d made since waking up in this place.

"They’ve sealed you?"

Neji nodded once, the movement stiff. "Or suppressed. I can’t tell."

"Then they’ve planned for us. Not just captured. Anticipated."

A soft, resigned sigh tore from the Hyūga boy. "I could have told you that. When I was up there… the faceless one called me by my name. He had implied he's been after me for some time. That I had been... difficult to catch."

"…Fantastic." Sasuke's tone carried the same tense discomfort, though this time Neji could tell — it was not directed at him. "He say anything else?"

"No. Though, I'm afraid I may have made him slightly more guarded."

Sasuke’s lips curled faintly, not quite a smile. "You also made him bleed."

"It did not matter, in the end."

Another long pause, or so Neji thought. Once again, the Uchiha didn't allow for much of it, for one reason or another. His gaze drifted downward, dark eyes scanning, analysing.

"No shackles on your legs," he remarked, voice low. "If you tried, you could stand."

No response came, not immediately. So, Sasuke had noticed it too.

"I can't move," he murmured. "Not yet."

Sasuke's gaze flitted back to meet Neji's own. There was understanding in his eyes. "But you intend to."

"Of course."

Once he figured out the next step after the fact.

 

•• ━━━━━ •• Sasuke •• ━━━━━ ••

He's been observing his cellmate, for better or worse. Not because Hyūga Neji was particularly fascinating, no. But from the moment those pale eyes cracked open, they hadn’t stilled. Not once. Not for a moment. They flitted between bars, cracks on the wall, the floor, the door. There was something calculating in that silence of his, as if he were already concocting a strategy.

Sasuke let him. He didn't trust him, but he let him.

He knew better than to interrupt. If he kept talking, he'd only slow Neji down, and despite everything, despite the Hyūga's snarky tongue, Sasuke wanted him sharp. Wanted him thinking. Because if anyone was going to find a way out of this hellhole it would be that guy.

And he fully intended to ride that brilliance straight out of this hellhole. Use him, if he had to. Exploit that infamous Konoha loyalty, until the bars bent and the walls gave way. He didn't care about this pompous prick, just what he could do to get Sasuke the fuck out of here. And perhaps that would truly and well kill any ties he may have had still. Cut all the strings tethering him to that gods-forsaken village.

Still, that logic didn't do a damn thing to stop the dripping.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was maddening. A slow, wet metronome ticking away the last grains of his patience and self-control. He clenched his jaw, forced himself to breathe on through it. He didn't speak. He let the silence settle — it was barely silence, thank you very much — and let Neji keep calculating like the good little prodigy he was. It wasn’t as though conversation with that bastard was any less irritating than the pipe.

And really, what was there to say?

As if Sasuke would ever regret his choices. Leaving Konoha. He'd made his decision, and he would stand by it, no matter how long they kept him hanging from these chains. His goal hadn't changed.

He never lied about what he wanted — what he needed to do. In fact, he'd been clear from the beginning: he would stop at nothing to kill Itachi. And if that meant walking away from that soft, sentimental village that clung to its ridiculous ideals like a child to a teddy bear, then so be it.

They never understood him. Not then, and not now. None of them.

Especially not this pedigreed poodle across from him.

How could he, when his clan had been the most revered in all of Konoha? His family walked the streets of Konoha with their heads held high. Breathing. Living. Their blood wasn't splattered across the walls of a compound long abandoned. Long silenced.

Good to know he's still salty about me leaving, though.

"You said the faceless one darkens the room before he enters it?" Neji spoke up, pulling the Uchiha boy right out of his thoughts.

"Yeah."

Lavender eyes drifted toward the door. "And he enters the cell?"

"…Sometimes."

"Good," Neji murmured, almost to himself. There was a note of satisfaction in his voice — quiet, but unmistakable.

Sasuke blinked, confusion painted in the creases between his eyebrows. He leaned forward slightly, the chains above him groaning with the movement. "Are you going to elaborate?"

"Not if I do not have to."

Yep, definitely more irritating than the fucking pipe.

Pushing the limits of his chains, Sasuke tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he hunched forward even more. "Well, you have to," he whispered, tone sharp, almost threatening.

Neji, of course, remained entirely unfazed. He didn’t even glance his way. Just kept his gaze locked on the door, dark hair veiling half his face like a curtain.

"I will inform you once I have a more concrete idea of what I'd like to do."

Ah. So that was it. Not secrecy — just precision. Sasuke could respect that, even if it grated.

"Would you like to perhaps involve me in your thought process?" he asked, tone dry, but not without edge. Not without sarcasm.

"Not yet."

Biting whatever insult he wished to snap back with, Sasuke let his eyes fall shut, slowly exhaling. Fine.

Chapter 4: Test Subjects

Notes:

Sasuke and Neji finally cooperate, hihi.

TW for murder I guess?

The door yawned open with a deafening creak, the sound dragging across the concrete like nails on bone. Neji winced, the noise slicing through his nerves like a blade. Sasuke, however, remained utterly unbothered. He merely arched a brow, gaze snapping to the empty doorway, waiting — expecting — the familiar descent into darkness.

That did not happen, however.

Instead, the light held. And through it stepped that hulking brute again — Koji, as Neji had so helpfully informed him. As if the name mattered. As if Sasuke had any intention of remembering it beyond the moment he slit the man's throat.

Koji moved leisurely, confidently, as if he were taking a walk in a park. He opened the cell with a huff, clearly aware of both sets of eyes trained on him, but entirely unfazed by it. Sasuke at this point still couldn't tell if the man was simply blind or if he just appeared to be.

Every muscle in Sasuke's body tensed as the figure entered the cell, heavy boots thudding against the floor. He didn't pause. Didn't glance at Neji. Didn't speak.

He came for Sasuke.

The chains groaned as Koji reached up and began to unfasten them. Sasuke's shoulders screamed with relief first — then pain. A deep, searing ache that radiated down his spine and into his ribs, so sharp he had to bite down on a groan. The sudden release of tension was almost worse than the restraint.

He barely had time to process it before Koji grabbed the chains and yanked them upward, forcing Sasuke to stand.

Except he couldn't.

His legs buckled immediately, numb from disuse, trembling under the weight of his own body. He staggered, knees threatening to collapse, and Koji didn't so much as flinch. The man simply hauled him upright like dead weight, one hand gripping the chains, the other pressing against Sasuke's shoulder with enough force to bruise.

Sasuke's breath hitched, his pride burning hotter than the pain. He clenched his jaw, forcing his legs to lock, to hold. He would not fall. Not in front of the poodle. And most certainly not in front of this brute.

Koji tilted his head slightly, as if assessing whether Sasuke would stay upright on his own. Then, without a word, he turned and began to drag him toward the door.

Sasuke's eyes flitted to the Hyūga, who never took his gaze off them. He watched as the boy drew his bottom lip beneath his teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood.

Then, their eyes locked. In that brief moment, something passed between them; understanding. They hadn't planned for it, but if they were to act, it had to be now.

Because neither of them could know, not with any certainty that if Sasuke were to be dragged out of here now, he'd ever be taken back down here again. Koji's grip on those chains was firm, dragging him toward the door with the indifference of a man who simply expected no threat from his prisoners. The sheer audacity to underestimate him so lit a fire in Sasuke, its heat ferocious enough to breathe some life back into his worn body. He leaned into the pain and shifted his weight just enough to test the tension in the chains. He didn't have much slack, but it was enough.

Neji moved. It had made more noise than either of them would've liked and so, Sasuke purposely dropped like dead weight.

"What is wrong with you?" Koji groaned, irritated, impatient as Sasuke fell to the floor, arms and legs limp, like a ragdoll.

He turned away from the Hyūga completely. Sasuke never took his eyes off Neji, even if they seemed to be staring at nothing in particular.

Neji's fingers curled around the bars above, his knees pressed into the floor, muscles coiling like a spring. Then, in one fluid motion, the Konoha-nin pulled himself upward, using the bars to anchor his weight, and swung his leg out with surgical precision.

Squarely between Koji's legs.

A sound between a laugh and a gasp caught in Sasuke's throat. The impact was brutal. The goliath let out a strangled, guttural sound as his massive frame jolted backward, unbalanced by the pain. His grip on the chains faltered first, then broke entirely. The Uchiha rose to one knee, eyes wide with something dangerously close to glee. Satisfaction.

The pain in his shoulders flared, but really, he barely registered it as he snatched up the loosened chains, wrapping them around his wrists. He hardly noticed them biting into his skin. Whilst the brute was still reeling, one hand clutching a metal bar to hold himself upright and recover from the assault, Sasuke surged forward. He clenched his teeth and swung the chain around the man's neck, legs wrapping around his waist as he twisted the chain tight, using his full body weight to pull backward. His arms strained, his muscles screamed for mercy but oh, mercy was the last thing on Sasuke's mind.

Koji writhed, his hands clawing at the metal, but his fingers never found purchase. His knees gave way, but Sasuke didn't let up. With every second passing that he held on, that days of pent-up fury slowly began to trickle out, like a pressure valve finally turning. Steam finally releasing.

Then — it was over. The man landed in the dirt with a heavy thud, yanking Sasuke along with him, but he broke his fall, planting his bare feet firmly against the concrete. For a moment he stood there, hunched over, each leg on either side of the brute, wheezing, panting. He almost wished this bastard struggled longer, but ultimately, he wasn't the real target of his rage. No. This lump of bone and muscle was a casualty at best.

"The keys."

Sasuke winced, the voice slicing through his moment of triumph like a pebble tossed into still water. Soft, urgent, and unmistakably Hyūga. He'd almost forgotten about the poodle. His eyes instinctively drifted to Koji's belt; and the comically large circlet with a set of keys on it.

Oh, yes. The keys.

He dislodged the chain from under the corpse and reached for the circlet. The damn keys were old, mismatched, some rusted to the point of uselessness. He tried them one by one, jaw clenched, breath shallow. His hands trembled — not from fear, but from strain, from the lingering ache in his shoulders and wrists.

Finally, the last one clicked.

The shackle snapped open with a metallic clunk, rolling onto the floor like a discarded collar. That was it. He was free. And in his hand, he held the keychain that could offer Neji the same release.

He slowly turned to the Hyūga, almost taking advantage of his range of movement now that he had it back. Still strung up, bloodied wrists caught in those rusty chains, though he seemed to have shifted himself in a more comfortable position that allowed him to breathe. Lavender eyes followed Sasuke's movements, gaze locked in on the keys in his hand. Not a word, though. Not a plea.

I suppose I could just leave him here.

Such a tempting thought. But reality was colder than pride. He still needed Neji. As irritating as that was to admit. Sasuke had been trapped longer, worn thinner. And the Hyūga had fight left in him — enough to pull off a move that had dropped a man twice his size with one well-placed kick.

He stepped forward, lowering himself to be at eye-level with him. Then, he jingled the keychain in front of Neji's face. His own expression remained cold, not even a smirk adorning his lips.

"Want this?"

"If you intend to leave me here, do it without preening like a peacock, will you?" the other hissed through his clenched jaw.

Sasuke so eagerly wished he could, especially after such a retort. Pompous poodle.

"Don't get used to this," he whispered under his breath as he rose to stand.

The key clicked into place with a reluctant groan, and the shackles snapped open. Neji's arms dropped, heavy and trembling, the blood rushing back into his limbs with a painful sting. He didn't speak. Didn't thank him. Just exhaled slowly, adjusting his posture with quiet dignity.

Sasuke stepped back, tossing the keyring onto the floor between them.

"Now get up," he spat, voice flat. "We're not done yet."

Neji flexed his fingers as the cuffs fell to the floor, then slowly, steadily rose to his feet. It wasn't as graceful as he probably intended. His legs trembled, knees stiff from hours of pressure and immobility. And yet he still clung to his dignity with the way he squared his shoulders — that must've hurt like a bitch — and lifted his chin.

Sasuke watched him, with faint amusement. There was something deeply entertaining about a Hyūga trying so desperately to clutch his pride.

"Nice aim," he commented in the end.

"I thought you… might enjoy that, yes," Neji admitted with a slow nod.

Sasuke's lips twitched. "So you kicked him all for me, did you?"

Neji's gaze flicked toward him, once again with the same unimpressed expression. "…Could we go?"

 

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

 

The hallway beyond the cell was narrow and dim, the concrete walls slick with condensation, and in some places, mould. Sasuke led the way, his steps cautious, heavy with pain, but he pushed on, simply for the fact that he had to. Neji followed close behind, and despite the fact that Sasuke didn't particularly care whether he lived or died, he peered over his shoulder every now and again. He still needed him to get out of here, after all.

They reached a stairwell, a spiral of rusted metal descending into darkness and climbing toward a faint artificial light. Sasuke glanced upward, then started to climb, the steps creaking under his weight with every move he made. At the top, a heavy door, haphazardly screwed and nailed together with thick wooden boards and metal. Sasuke pressed his ear to it — a primitive method, but with his own chakra sealed, he had no other option.

Nothing.

The air was still.

He glanced back to Neji, then vaguely, expectantly gestured at his own eyes.

Neji shook his head. His byakugan was still dormant.

So, without any clue of what awaited them past that door, Sasuke pushed it open.

The room was cold, filthy, lit by a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling by a wire, casting harsh shadows across the floor. Part laboratory, part office. Metal cabinets lined the walls, filled with vials and various tools. A desk sat in the corner, cluttered with books, papers, dossiers.

And in the centre, beneath the lamp, stood an examination table.

He practically heard Neji's breath hitch behind him.

The table was pristine. Polished metal. Waiting for a subject. Straps hung from the sides, buckles scratched and worn. A tray of surgical instruments sat by the side — scalpels, syringes, clamps. Pliers.

No occupant, though. The faceless one — as Neji called him — was nowhere to be seen. Sasuke stepped further into the room, the cold concrete harsh against his bare feet. They couldn't linger for long, but the sight that welcomed them had both of them stunned. Neither of them had any idea just how close Sasuke came to ending up on that table.

Of getting his eyes yanked out with those tools.

His eyes lingered on the straps. His wrists ached just by looking. He then moved toward the desk. Escape should have been his priority, but part of him screamed for answers.

Diagrams. Anatomical sketches, studies of seals. Chakra flow charts. Notes scribbled in a tight, angular hand that reeked of deranged obsession. His name appeared more than one, as did Neji's. There were others, names he didn't recognise. His gaze caught a word which brought his blood to a boil. Uchiha viability.

"He was going to cut me open," he hissed under his breath. The sheer audacity of it made him wish that son of a bitch was still there, just so he could suffer the same fate he intended for Sasuke.

A touch on his arm made him flinch.

It was too gentle. Too human. Too small to belong to their captor.

He turned his head sharply.

Neji stood beside him — when did he get here? — one hand already withdrawing from his forearm. His expression was blank, cold, yet it carried something Sasuke recognised as urgency. He didn't speak, for he likely didn't want to risk being discovered.

Sasuke stared at him for a moment, then nodded once, the tension in his jaw easing just slightly.

He's right. We gotta get out of here.

He wanted to find that asshole. He wanted to make him bleed. Still, he understood the words Neji never spoke. They simply couldn't, in their current condition. Both of them have been beaten, their kekkei-genkai sealed, their chakra flow restricted.

It all felt too easy, though. Where was the faceless one?

If he had been so obsessed to get his hands on them both, if he wanted the sharingan so desperately, why didn't he stop them?

There was no time to ask such asinine questions.

They had to move.

 

Chapter 5: Downpour

Notes:

Thank you for all the lovely comments! Things continue to be kind of boring from here, but we get a bit of hissy pissy Sasuke and paranoid Neji.

They're both so tired, good god.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

The kind of silence that didn't feel earned, or perhaps Neji's paranoia had slowly begun to get the better of him. There should have been pursuit, resistance, anything to stop them from escaping, and yet as they moved through the corridor, each footstep careful, deliberate, there was nothing but menacing silence. Anticipation of a trap.

It just didn't make any sense. If their captor had gone to such lengths to secure them — sealing their chakra, binding their bloodline gifts, making those threats promises to take what was his then why let them walk free?

Many plausible explanations occurred to Neji, though with his mind slowing from sleep-deprivation, he couldn't be sure which one was most logical. One theory: the faceless one was incapable of physical confrontation. That he had all of the labour, the dirty work done by Koji; and when the behemoth fell, there was no line of defence left for the cloaked man. So, to protect himself, to avoid Sasuke's wrath — the boy was thirsty for vengeance, of that Neji was sure — he simply fled.

But that theory was too neat. Too convenient.

And it required a level of cowardice Neji wasn't ready to assign to their captor.

No. More likely, this was orchestrated. A sacrifice. Koji had been sent down knowing Neji wasn’t properly restrained. Knowing Sasuke was close to breaking. He one had watched it unfold, calculated the odds, and let his loyal subordinate fall for some greater purpose.

Now, Neji and Sasuke were walking straight into it.

A trap they hadn’t yet seen.

The corridor narrowed, the walls pressing in. Pipes lined the ceiling, dripping faintly. The air grew colder, heavier the further they walked from that accursed laboratory. This structure had been much larger than either of them anticipated, as Neji could've sworn, they've been walking for what felt like twenty long minutes now. His steps slowed, his senses straining against the fog of fatigue.

Sasuke glanced back. "Something wrong?"

"This is too easy."

"Maybe we're just that good," Sasuke muttered, but there was no conviction behind his words. He drew up short, and Neji nearly stumbled into him; the Uchiha's shoulders tensed under his torn shirt. Onyx eyes narrowed at him, a hint of warning in his gaze. It wasn't as though Neji was all that keen on slamming right into him, so the hostility, whilst not unexpected, was wildly unnecessary.

Sasuke, still tense, slowly turned his attention to the path ahead. The corridor forked into two yawning mouths, one sloping down, the other angling up and left. A single flickering bulb illuminated the junction, its dying light cast over rust and moss stains.

Neji considered the options for a moment. The downward passage stunk of mould and wet, the kind of deep-set rot that only grew in places long forgotten. The upward fork carried the faintest pulse of mountain air, almost refreshing compared to the oppressive atmosphere they just left behind. Neither showed evidence of recent activity, or the faceless one was good at covering his tracks.

To Neji's tired mind, both screamed trap.

Before he could think to decide, the Uchiha began to walk again, steps steady and unwavering as he ascended the slope. The only reason Neji didn't think to protest was because — naturally — he was going to pick that route also. If there was a second exit, or an exit at all, it was not going to be in the deepest bowels of this place.

The incline steepened, the air growing colder, fresher with every step they took. If it were a trap — or an elaborate genjutsu — it was patient. No alarms. No sudden shifts, nothing but the outside air filtered through layers of decay.

The passage ended in a ragged break of stone and steel, and beyond it lay the outside. Neji couldn't believe his eyes. Couldn't believe it was true. They could walk out of their captor's lair, just like that.

Sasuke surged forward, raw cement crunching under his feet as he burst into the open air, whilst Neji followed after cautiously. Though not even he couldn't resist drawing a deep breath, allowing his lungs to fill with the pure cold of dawn.

The incline gave way to a cliff's edge, and before them stretched a panorama of jagged mountains and yawning ravines, their peaks lost in drifting mist. Below, a vast wetland unfurled like a bruise against the valley floor — peat-black water threaded with reeds and sunken logs. Had it been on a painting, Neji would have thought it an idyllic landscape. Now, his heart only sunk to his stomach as he realised their trials and tribulations were far from over. For one, he didn't recognise this land. That was the least of his worries, though.

Terrain such as this would be no feat for a shinobi of their capabilities under regular circumstances; however without sufficient control over their chakra, they were no better than two ragtag travellers with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The marsh would swallow them whole, the ravines would break their bones, and the mountain paths were little more than goat tracks carved into sheer rock. He scanned for the least lethal descent, and while instinct prickled at his skin, his byakugan remained sealed. It had been unsettling before, but now out in this primeval expanse, he felt completely and utterly blind.

His eyes shifted to the Uchiha stood beside him — silhouette etched in the last flickers of daylight. His hair caught the sun's last amber rays as the strands whipped in the wind, brushing against the bruises on his brow, the cut on his cheek, the sharp edges of his face carved deeper by the sundown's wash of crimson and gold. Onyx eyes, cold and intent, shifted from the sunset back to the labyrinth of reeds and water, thinking, calculating, just as Neji would have in his stead. Despite the void in the boy's expression where emotions should have been, he radiated a sense of unease and something else with the way his jaw tensed.

As someone who spent years biting down on his own anger, Neji recognised it under the layers of forced tranquillity. Sasuke was pissed.

He eventually cleared his throat.

"Do you recognise the landscape?"

The answer was brusque. "That's need-to-know."

"A simple yes would have sufficed."

"We’re in a no-man's-land on the eastern border of the Land of Lightning — far outside any Hidden Village’s patrol routes."

Neji stifled a pained grimace. The Land of Lightning. Ridiculously far from his assignment, and even further from home. Around them, wind scoured the rocky plateau, carrying grit and gravel. No villages. No civilisation for miles.

"Where are you headed?"

Sasuke never cared to look toward him. "Orochimaru has a hideout in the area he abandoned some time ago. I intend to find my associates there."

Neji's brows drew together. The boy had been far too willing to hand over such information. "…Why are you telling me this?"

"What are you going to do with the information? By the time you run home with your tail between your legs, I'll be long gone."

As much as it bruised his pride to admit it, the Uchiha boy was right. Neji could however send a message, as soon as he regained full control of his body once more. It would breach the agreement they never formally made, but the thought flickered through his mind nonetheless, almost in defiance. Sasuke didn't share intel with him out of trust. No, it was simply out of foolish confidence. He firmly believed Neji wouldn't be able to do a single thing to compromise him.

"I could send Konoha an encrypted message."

Sasuke scoffed. "Let me know how that goes."

Silence befell them once more. Nothing but the readily dipping sun and the gentle breeze.

"What about you?" the Uchiha asked, with the cadence of someone not really interested in getting an answer. "Where will you go?"

There was no favourable answer to that question. He did not know the area, nor was he familiar of any routes out of it.

"To… increase our odds of survival, I suggest we stick together," he proposed finally. It was their best bet if they wished to stay in one piece.

Sasuke, once again didn't bother turning. He had been talking to the wide-open sky all this time, as if Neji was no more than a mere annoyance. A fly. He simply shrugged, the movement tense, slow and forced. "You make it sound like we have a choice."

"We do have a choice," Neji gestured at the steep cliff. "I could shove you down the cliff and be done with it."

Sasuke exhaled sharply, then slowly, then leaned in so close Neji felt the ghost of his breath. "Careful, Hyūga. My hands are free now."

Neji didn't back away, even if the instinct was there to do so. He wouldn't give the other the satisfaction. Instead, he raised a brow, almost inquisitively. "Yes, let's brawl like children in the mud. After all, without our chakra, that is all it would be."

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Sasuke huffed out a strained laugh, as if all of this had been one big joke. He stepped back, hands looping casually into his pockets. "Lead the way."

Neji tilted his head. "Oh? Passing the torch, are you?"

"I just want to make sure it's safe. If the path crumbles and you fall to your death — I'll know not to go that way."

"Charming."

Sasuke's gaze remained fixed on the narrow dirt path. "I'll stick a weed in the ground if you die. Satisfied?"

The Hyūga didn't respond right away; he only blinked, as if waiting for the punchline of that terrible joke. When it didn't come, he simply sighed. "So very."

 

•• ━━━━━ ••Sasuke•• ━━━━━ ••

 

The skies had had opened up without warning. What looked like a distant squall became a deluge in seconds, wind whipping the mountain’s edge into a frothing mess of spray and debris. Visibility dropped to mere arm’s length, as the water began to wash the very ground out from under their feet.

"We need cover!" Sasuke shouted, voice strained against the sound of the storm, his words barely audible even so. Ice-cold water sluiced through his hair, plastering his ripped shirt to his skin. Every breath burned; every heartbeat thundered louder than the sky above. One wrong step — and the slick stone would pitch him into the ravine's black maw.

"Over there!" Neji's voice finally pierced through the downpour. His clothes were a smear of white against the gunmetal sky, the only beacon Sasuke could follow after as he could not see any further than that. He grit his teeth, every muscle taut with apprehension. He didn't wish to blindly follow, though even he wasn't blind to the fact that he had no choice but to.

Then — a misstep. It was a fraction of a second, if not less.

But it was enough for the ground beneath his feet to loosen, for his balance to be lost. The gravel slid out from under his weight like a filthy waterfall, and as instinct snapped tight in his chest, he pitched forward, fingers digging into the mud for purchase. He groaned as his nails caught on tiny pebbles, yet nothing substantial enough to hold his weight as the world tilted beneath him, gravity pulling him toward the void.

His last desperate breath caught in his throat as his legs ran out of footing, swinging out over the deep abyss of the ravine.

A pale blur smashed into view — strong fingers closed around his forearm, hauling him back from the brink. Rocks and dirt tumbled free under their weight, but Neji held fast, his other hand clutching a sloped rock sticking out of the mountain side, as if this manoeuvre couldn't have yanked him down into his death too.

"Shit—" Sasuke heaved, wet lashes clinging together as he stumbled back onto the path, limbs trembling with adrenaline and cold. His eyes met Neji's gaze, pale irises full of urgency and something the Uchiha simply chose not to name. It couldn't have been concern. The mere idea filled him with disgust. Shame, that Hyūga fucking Neji had to drag his ass back onto the mountain after he slipped and almost fell to his death. What has his life come to?

Still, he nodded once, as if to inform the other he was fine, a sliver of gratitude buried beneath layers of stubborn pride.

 

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

 

They sprinted through the ankle-deep torrents, clinging to the mountainside for stability. The wind assaulted them from every direction as if the storm itself wished to drag them back down the slope.

Inside the cavern's narrow mouth, Sasuke came to a complete halt. The sudden shift — from assault from every angle to relative calm — had his heart violently hammering against his ribcage, white noise screeching in his ears. He watched Neji brace himself against the jagged rock wall, each laboured breath billowed his soaked robe, clinging to his figure, dark hair clumped together sticking to his pale skin. Irritatingly, the bastard wasn't even ugly. Not like that made things any less annoying.

If anything, Sasuke would have bet anything that he was aware of it. Why else would he be putting on such a show, slowly sliding down against the cavern wall, like he didn't know it would expose his collarbones? What kind of audacity is that? After generously saving his life?

His chest tightened — not from cold, but from a deep, guttural fury that couldn't quite be sated by murdering the faceless one's associate in cold blood. The sheer outrage of Neji's actions had him reeling. Like he needed saving. He didn't. He, in fact, rather would have taken the fall, than any help from this motherfucker. Than owe anything to him.

Stupid goodie-two-shoes Konoha poodle.

It burned, it blazed, the shame, the hatred, like wildfire to the point where he was certain it tore through his veins, his bones, his very soul, all he was and was ever going to be. Yes, it was rage. It was rage so violent and visceral it had yanked the very ground from under his feet, shoved cotton in his ears so he'd only hear a muffled echo of his name as he hit the floor with a heavy thud. He barely felt it. He heaved, limbs heavy, throat burning as though his body finally gave in to the pressure it had been under.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead. Part of him wanted to wrench it away. Another swore he'd rip it off.

The cave's walls dissolved into the void as blood thundered in his ears. A gentle voice — so close it startled him — said, "You're burning up."

"Yeah. Because I'm fucking pissed at you." — The words died on his tongue. He never uttered them, before the darkness came.