Author’s Notes: I am reworking, revamping, and restructuring Team Dynamics. I figured with the new TOS forcing me to repost anyway, but better time than now? For those of you who’ve been following this story, I’m doing it because I’m dissatisfied with the organization of the flashback and the “choppiness” of the timeline. So, you don’t NEED to reread this, because the plot will stay the same and the next chapter will be the same regardless, but I couldn’t keep writing TD without fixing the shit that was bothering me. So, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Characters Copyright Masashi Kishimoto

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Team Dynamics: Chapter 1

“It will never work,” Kakashi said with a shake of his head. “It’s too risky.”

“Yeah, Naruto,” Sakura added softly. “I want Sasuke back, but this is crazy.”

“But it will work, I’m telling you!” Naruto waved his arms in agitation. “Sai?”

All eyes turned to the silent member of their conference. Sai shrugged his shoulders and simply stated, “Naruto must protect his bonds. He should be free to give whatever he wants.”

“Sai…” Sakura mumbled softly, stunned by his assent to this foolhardy plan.

“Great!” Naruto crowed with a triumphant grin. “That’s a tie, and you two don’t have any better ideas, so you have to go along with ours.”

“Naruto, I don’t want to see one of my students sacrifice himself to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” Kakashi growled. “It’s one thing to fight for Sasuke and die trying, and another thing to simply die for him.”

Naruto fell quiet, taken aback by his teacher’s earnestness. He looked down at his feet, willing the courage into his voice. “Sensei, you can help me make this work. I felt Chiyo’s exchange technique, but I know you watched her perform the jutsu with your Sharingan.” He looked up, eyes fierce and conviction firm. “I will find a way to do this, with or without your help. I did it for Gaara and I’ll do it for Sasuke.”

“Naruto, don’t!” Sakura pleaded. “What if it doesn’t work? What if you lose more than permanent chakura reserves? You could be crippled for life. You’ll never become Hokage. You won’t even be able to be a ninja!”

“I don’t care!”

Sakura was shocked to silence.

“If I can’t save one of the most important people in my life,” Naruto choked out, overcome with the potency of his emotions, “what kind of friend am I?”

Sakura lowered her head, tears falling freely to feed the grass at her feet.

“What kind of Hokage would I be, if I can’t save one person, if I can’t protect something important to me?”

“Okay, Naruto,” Kakashi agreed softly, “but don’t make me regret this.”

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Sakura had been dispatched to deal with Kabuto, and Kakashi with Orochimaru. That left Sai and Naruto to vex him.

As the dance began, Sasuke instantly observed that the two had developed a synch in battle, with Naruto doing more charging and Sai more blocking. That pattern was familiar. He was somewhat angry that he even noticed the similarity. It reminded him of a past he’d jostled into the far recesses of his darkness.

Naruto had progressed at an unnatural pace in a mere month. The blond had escalated his chakura manipulation and recombination technique to an abnormal level. It seemed impossible for him to have grown so much in such a short timeframe. He’d also been mildly surprised that Naruto was not using the kyuubi chakura, as he had during their last proper battle at the Valley of the End.

So, he has some control now, he thought briefly, before dodging another blade of wind. Perhaps a lot of control.

It had been irritating when the battle began to stalemate, and he was forced to enter stage one of the curse seal, while Naruto had yet to find the need to draw from his own cursed chakura source. At some point during the fight, Sai became an onlooker, sensing that it had become too personal for him to interfere.

A dual attack, with his lightening-charged sword in his right hand, and a Chidori in his left. The precision was flawless, but he’d expected Naruto to dodge it: He had become incredibly fast with the aid of wind-based chakura at his beck and call. Instead, his former teammate had grasped his sword arm and pulled him close, almost as if to embrace him. His fingers sunk into giving flesh, followed by the nauseating pop of soft tissues rupturing.

Konoha’s number one surprising ninja. This went beyond surprising. Sasuke knew his expression did not change; he had too much practice at indifference to let emotions skip across his face. Still, this was highly unexpected.

Naruto’s ribs rubbed against his wrist.

Despite his detachment, it took conscious effort to remain passive as the blond spoke, tan hands clawing for purchase on his sticky bicep. “Sasuke,” the voice was strained, but not weak. “I don’t know why you need to kill me for your revenge.”

His eyes narrowed, slivers of scarlet irises gleaming beneath his dark lashes.

“But if this–,” blood spattered on his face as the blond coughed, “if this is what you need to kill that man, then take it.”

The whites of his eyes flashed, the acknowledgement breached his vigilant facade.

“If this will save you from the snake, it’s yours.”

Suddenly, he couldn’t stand the feeling of his hand in Naruto’s innards. He ripped his arm free and watched in abject horror as the man crumpled to his knees. He was smiling. The idiot was smiling. He looked as if he’d just become Hokage, as if all his dreams had come true.

I don’t want it! his broken mind screamed at the light in those eyes. He didn’t want some courageous sacrifice. He’d wanted to see anger and determination and defeat in those dimming blue eyes, not hope.

His sanity, which he had always questioned, seemed thin right now. Things were threatened to break in him that would spell the end of too many things to comprehend.

Suddenly, Itachi’s voice rang in his head.

“As a measuring stick,” came the inhuman voice, “to test my abilities.”

He suddenly knew the abilities Itachi had referred to were not physical, not based on power. He’d thought that by seeking power he could surpass his brother. Yet, Itachi had given him the answer once, without Sasuke realizing the true implications.

“Not enough hatred.”

He saw Itachi in a new light. Something about the insight curtailed the flames of vengeance in his head. He searched for that heat again, that fuel for his hatred, and found it absent. Ice settled in the pit of his stomach.

Then he saw Sai approaching, so he squelched the emotions that were ricocheting inside him. There was no physical threat, but something disturbed him as the man approached.

The emotionless man had never looked so…cross.

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The Chidori propelled through Naruto’s chest. The sound of countless birds abruptly ended as the clawed hand emerged from its fleshy cavity. Blood trailed abundant down the pale fingers. An equally pale face was mottled in the travesty of an abstract art piece, as if the bloody brush was flung at the canvass in a moment of inspiration. The murky, fluid marks of the stage one curse seal only added to the likeness.

Sai’s usually composed face underwent a transformation that would only happen once in his lifetime. His vision became rapidly unfocused. His flawless suppression exploded in chaos as his emotions went haywire, escaping in full force for the first time since childhood.

This feeling was so unique that he instantly settled upon the answer. He’d read it in a book once, titled “Emotional Domination.”

When one becomes extremely angry, many words have been used to describe the resulting emotional turmoil. During interviews, some convicts use words such as “murderous,” “furious,” or “livid” to describe the overwhelming feeling of anger they experienced before they killed.

He took a step towards the two men at the center of the ruined clearing. Naruto was grappling at Sasuke’s blood-slicked arm, lips moving in some hopeless ultimatum, trying to sway the passive traitor one last time.

In the throes of this powerful emotion, one might be apt to harm another human being. Murders are often committed in this state. Thus, they are termed “crimes of passion.”

Suddenly, he understood what Sakura had said that day in the candlelit darkness of Orochimaru’s lair: “You don’t want to erase the bonds that formed between you and your brother.” In this moment of clarity, the ties he harbored to his picture book meant more to him than ever before.

As a young child, Sai’s emotions had been brutally beat out of him. Along the way, he had become almost inhuman. Yet, he looked at Sasuke and Naruto, linked by the fatal thrust of a luminescent limb, and he thought the bond between them shattered. He witnessed Sasuke’s serenity as that fragile connection dissolved, and he saw what it must be like to emerge inhuman.

Sai had not killed his brother. In the end, he could not cut those bonds to his picture book, could not discard that last shred of his feelings. He was human.

Other respondents likened the experience to one of “dissociation,” where they watched themselves commit the act, but seemed to have no conscious control over their own actions.

Sai was watching from someplace remotely outside himself, as if his body moved under the direction of a master puppeteer. He saw Sasuke remove his gory appendage from the hollowed chest. The man slipped to his knees, the same man whom had given Sai something he could never repay: his brother, his bond, his heart. On top of that, Naruto had become a new brother and a new bond, something new for his heart to cherish.

He could never have repaid that gift, but he could have tried: Until the cold, dark thing that stood before him had painted himself in Naruto’s blood.

A small number of case studies, from particularly violent crimes, claimed that “the Devil” or “a demon” seemed to take hold of their senses. Some even asserted to be able to sense things they normally wouldn’t have noticed, such as smelling blood before any blood was actually present. One man even called himself “a beast.”

Sasuke was regarding his approach with careful detachment, a beast glancing down upon an insect. He didn’t even move to defend himself when Sai’s hand wrapped around his neck, though the corners of his dark eyes tapered in response to the nuisance.

“I think I’m…” Sai ground out in an unfamiliar voice. Something in his tone gave Sasuke pause, something flashed in those dark eyes as he looked into Sai’s warped face.

Some said the sensation was like…

“…seeing red.”

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“I think I’m…seeing red.”

The words struck a chord in him. Sasuke looked to Naruto, pallid and quivering as the life leaked out of him. He observed his own reflection in the spreading pool of blood. At some point, he had lapsed out of the Sharingan.

“And someday, when you have the same ‘eyes’ as me, appear before me.”

He knew then. His best friend was on the cusp of death’s dark gate, but he did not see the Mangekyou staring back at him. Something cold and haunting was watching him from that red mirror, a tribute to that gruesome night of his childhood.

Now, can I come before you, brother?

Somehow, the satisfaction was lacking.

The grip around Sasuke’s neck tightened. He locked eyes with his attacker, and flinched under the fervent gaze. He realized how alike their features were, both pale, and refined, and dark-eyed.

Jealousy flared inside him. What right did this imposter have to fill the void he left behind, to protect what he once cherished?

“Chidori Nagashi!”

Sasuke felt the snap of chakura as it was forced out of his opening points. Tendrils of flickering electricity devoured the object of his discontent. Sai jerked like a frantic marionette, but the tenacious fingers remained.

The feat should have been impossible.

Blood boiled, splitting skin to reveal the tender tissue beneath. A fetid smell permeated the glade. The electricity was turning Sai into a human torch, cooking him from the inside out, but his hand remained – a living noose around Sasuke’s neck.

Impossible.

Sasuke’s vision was ebbing. The clinging organism could no longer be classified as human, its face like bubbling tar. All he could discern amidst the crackling inferno was two dark orbs. Their sorrow was exquisite, but the tears evaporated before they could fall. He knew those tears were not for pity or for pain, but something like absolution, even love. It made him sick.

He halted the jutsu just short of turning Sai into carbon dust. He grappled for a kunai with his fading strength, using the handle to pry the constricting digits from his windpipe. Sasuke flung the man off him, hearing the body collide solidly with the ground. He struggled to remain upright, limbs rubbery, lungs heaving.

Sasuke shook his head to focus, half-expecting the persistent fool to prolong the battle, but Sai was a mere carcass. His body had fallen not far from Naruto’s, and the flesh sizzled like meat held over a spit, making a macabre melody of hisses and pops. He relaxed his stance, stepping forward to retrieve his katana. He had just bent to retrieve the soiled blade, averting his eyes because it made him nauseous for some inexplicable reason to look at Naruto’s body, when a smoking limb lifted.

Sasuke jerked his hand back, losing his balance and landing heavily on his knees.

The nightmarish arm reached, straining, even as skin peeled and fluttered to the ground in some gruesome imitation of dying cherry blossoms. Blackened fingers curled around a lock of blond hair. Muscles contracted, inching the man a fraction closer to that fading lifeline, then his last breath left him in a sigh. The sound was like a paper bag deflating, somehow too dry and cracked for a living thing.

A bird was carelessly twittering some haphazard melody. Clouds cast impatient shadows on the ground, moving tirelessly with the wind, blotting the light periodically in that assiduous battle between shade and sun. The world spun on its axis.

And Sasuke stood still.

Suddenly the ground was much closer, and his hands were coated with something thick. Naruto’s triumphant face was inches from his. Sasuke watched as dark vermillion dripped from his bangs to mar those lax features below him.

Iron on his lips.

Pungent, sickly sweet smoke in his nostrils.

The acerbic taste of his stomach in his throat.

This time, no rain fell to cleanse him.

“Why, Sasuke-kun,” purred a sinister voice, “I thought I told you not to play so roughly with your toys.”

“Come,” said another. “They will not be detained by the snakes for long.”

Sasuke wanted to stand, but found his muscles unresponsive. A breeze shook the trees, dislodging a host of dying leaves that fluttered to the ground. They alighted in the rust-colored mud before him, some golden and some red from an entirely abnormal source. He picked one up and attempted to wipe it clean, but his gore encrusted hands only left behind a black-brown smear of dried body fluids. Unbidden, a trivial moment from his childhood arrested his thoughts.

The other kids were screaming, darting around with snowballs in some haphazard charade of war. He watched them play, slumped against the trunk of a sugar maple. Winter was falling around him like goose down. He looked up through the barren arms of wood and noticed a single leaf. It was the last leaf – withered, brown, and feeble. It clung, as if afraid to fall. Then the heedless wind sighed, sending the leaf to join its fallen brethren. He picked it up, feeling somewhat obliged to keep it warm. The leaf quaked in his hand, loathing the touch of snow-kissed ground, succumbing to winter.

A cool hand was on his shoulder. He trembled.

He had fallen long ago.

Orochimaru made a clucking sound in the back of his throat. “What’s this? You’re shivering. Why don’t we get you inside before you catch cold?”

The condescending tone jarred him back to full alert. He went rigid. Sasuke turned his head to regard his master, and felt the Sharingan spinning beyond his control.

Orochimaru was unfazed by his pupil’s rebellious glare, surveying the carnage with a twist of pallid lips that could not be called a smile. No matter the deportment of his lips, Orochimaru never smiled. “The Jinchuuriki still meant something to you then, hm?”

“Bring him back.” The words escaped on their own accord.

“Oh?” not angry or even annoyed, merely entertained. He turned away from his disciple without acknowledging the demand.

“You forget your place, again, Sasuke-sama,” Kabuto intoned quietly.

Sasuke appeared at the medic’s side in an instant, his movement impossible to follow. He grabbed a fistful of pale hair and twisted Kabuto’s head to meet his stare. Kabuto glared pointedly and moved to free himself, but his hand stilled when he saw Sasuke’s eyes.

“Those special conditions…”

Kabuto’s eyes were wide behind his glasses.

“…they have been met.”

“Mangekyou…” Kabuto whispered as if in a trance, somehow unable to look away.

Orochimaru stiffened almost imperceptibly at the utterance, but the Sharingan caught the movement. The snake master unhinged his jaw to draw Kusanagi from the prison of his throat. By the time the sword emerged, Kabuto was already curled on the ground, unconscious in a puddle of vomit.

“Bring him back,” Sasuke repeated.

“Do you think you have the ability to challenge me, Sasuke-sama?” Orochimaru mocked with those eerily formal manners.

Sasuke strode back to his motionless former teammate. Orochimaru, still assured of his superiority and rather curious, made no move to stop him. Sasuke retrieved his katana from where it had fallen from his numb fingers. The blade dripped as he held it before him, marred by the blood’s callous embrace. The sight was disturbingly familiar.

“My, you did make a mess of my gift,” Orochimaru cooed, eyes glinting as he examined the bodies. “But a Nine-tails and a Roots agent are fitting blood for that fine blade.” The snake’s tongue flicked, as if to taste the vile fluid in the air.

Sasuke sneered, before turning the blade on himself and plunging it through his abdomen. His vision flashed white, and he staggered to one knee. “Is this–” he sputtered as blood bubbled past his lips. “Is this blood befitting, Orochimaru?”

“Change of heart, Avenger?” Orochimaru drawled, as if the answer was of no consequence. “Have you forgotten that man?”

Sasuke’s eyes were as hard as his blade.

Orochimaru scrutinized the dead kyuubi vessel – that ignorant idealist with his lofty dreams, swaying the Uchiha to acts of altruism hardly befitting of an avenger. “That fool has been more trouble than he was worth, though it would have been beneficial to allow him to kill a few more Akatsuki members…” the snake trailed off, then waved a dismissive hand at the body. “Good riddance.”

“Bring.”

A twist of sleek steel.

“Him.”

Red rivulets running down a quivering chin.

“Back.”

Orochimaru remained composed, unmoved by the display.

“I’ll be your container, you fucking worm,” he snarled at the unresponsive sannin.

Reptilian eyes narrowed. Orochimaru did have limitations when it came to disrespect from his subordinates, even his favorites.

“But if you don’t revive him, I’ll perform an amateur autopsy on this body you so crave.” The threat was weaker than he’d hoped, garbled around a mouthful of blood and bile.

Orochimaru laughed at the attempted bribery. He stepped forward until he towered over his apprentice, gazing down with indifference. His wide mouth quirked in that not-smile as he murmured, “Is that a threat, Sasuke-kun?”

Under that callous gaze, his courage turned to ash in his mouth.

He felt it.

Whenever the snake was close, he felt it – the promise of power, a dark and carnal knowledge. Like a black hole, possessed of a magnetism that compelled the downtrodden and delusional. It tugged – insistent, enticing, beckoning him to savor that heady flavor.

One more bite of forbidden fruit.

Tempting.

His seal began to itch.

He could feel the sannin’s chakura, pulsing like a living thing, caressing his senses like static electricity, omnipresent and compelling, and he suddenly found it hard to concentrate.

He knew it was a delicacy filled with decay. Beneath the sugary surface, maggots roiled, fed by his hatred, nurtured by his vengeance. He knew better. Nonetheless, that brutal superiority filled him with an enigmatic craving. He licked his lips.

All he tasted was copper and salt. The temptation died.

There was nothing sweet about Naruto’s blood on his lips.

His seal stopped itching.

“So quick to forget your promises,” the snake said, reaching down to grasp his pupil’s bloody chin between elegant fingers. Sasuke tensed. A serpentine tongue slid out to lap at the metallic fluid. Sasuke fought to remain focused, recoiling from the vile exploration.

“You are so much like him, Sasuke-kun,” came the bedroom-toned whisper, “though you taste much sweeter.”

Sharingan eyes spun with renewed rigor at the insinuation.

“You are just as fickle as he, just as self-righteous.” Amusement laced Orochimaru’s voice as he added, “However, he was never so moody.”

“I am nothing like that man,” Sasuke ground out. He was having trouble breathing. Every inhale jarred the unyielding metal inside him.

He tilted Sasuke’s face sideways, “You have the same skin.” He inhaled at Sasuke’s bruised neck, “The same scent.” He paused and forced Sasuke’s chin back up, examining the Sharingan with his yellowed orbs. “Those same eyes.”

It was careless even for Orochimaru, agitating a man with a potent eye jutsu while looking him straight in the face. Sasuke trigged the Tsukuyomi, tapping some obscure chakura reserve he had no idea he possessed.

Seconds later, the red-steeped moon faded, replaced by the midday sun. Orochimaru still stood, though his skin beaded with sweat and his breath labored. The snake put a few paces between himself and Sasuke, disliking this novel version of the Uchiha bloodline.

Sasuke was running out of options. He scanned the clearing, and invariably his gaze fell to Naruto’s resolute visage. He heard those words again, “If this will save you from the snake, it’s yours.”

It was time.

He grit his teeth. He braced himself, unsheathing the katana from his intestines. His hand clenched over the wound, curtailing his blood’s best efforts to befriend the dirt. He stood on shaking knees.

“If you will not bring him back, consider our contract…” He flipped the blood off his katana. “Dissolved.”

“Had you not incapacitated our medical ninja, perhaps your ‘request’ would not be such a problem, hm?” Orochimaru’s stance was still relaxed, unruffled by the turn of events.

Sasuke’s gaze hardened. “I know what you are capable of, Orochimaru.” He bent with considerable effort and pulled up his left pant leg. Primitive symbols were inked around his shin, concealed beneath the heavy fabric. He cast a scornful grimace at his once master. “But you have underestimated me.” He drew his blood drenched hand down the apex of the tattoo.

“Kyuichose-no-Jutsu!”

A sensation settled like glass in the pit of Orochimaru’s stomach. The last time he had felt this way, it had resulted in the loss of his arms. It was a foreign emotion, but he new the name for it: Fear.

“Manda…”

“Ah, you remember me, Orochimaru?” hissed the giant anaconda. “I do hope you hadn’t overlooked my vow?”

“How could I?” Orochimaru murmured with a glance to Sasuke.

“Truly? You seem surprised to see me.”

“I am surprised you serve this fledgling of mine,” Orochimaru continued, ignoring the sarcastic remark.

“Serve? No.” Manda shifted his great body, circling his former summoner in walls of scaly hide. “He merely offered a mutually beneficial proposition.”

Sasuke smirked. “Do you remember that lesson you taught me when we first met? To avoid being devoured, the prey must offer the predator a more delectable tidbit.”

Orochimaru didn’t divert his attention from his slithering opponent, but he snarled in uncharacteristic fury. “You treacherous little whore!” It was like Sarutobi all over again, that scheming, righteous fool.

“He sought recompense,” Sasuke replied coldly. “I sought insurance.”

Sunlight glittered off sword-like fangs, dripping venom. “Well…” Manda whispered, tilting his head to regard his captive. “How do I begin? There is so much humiliation to repay from our last encounter.” The monster exhaled, smelling of rotting flesh. “My mouth is fit to eat you now.”

“I will not be easy prey, Manda.”

“No,” the king of serpents replied, “but you are worth more than a thousand sacrifices. I shall drink your power as I drink your blood.”

There was no more warning. Manda constricted around the puny human, the coils of his limbless body tightened with startling speed. A blast of defensive chakura hit Sasuke like a physical blow. He was weightless for mere seconds, before gravity regained control and his stomach tried to crawl out of his mouth.

I have to break the fall, he thought. His body was unresponsive, his stamina reserves completely drained. So, this is the price you pay for over-extending the Mangekyou.

He was falling with alacrity now, no way to stop his descent, muscles like granite. When strong arms caught his body, the air whooshed from his lungs. He felt his face pressed against a solid chest, and blood, there was blood on his face, it smelled of copper and ozone and…it smelled like…

No, it couldn’t be.

Dizziness overwhelmed him. Sasuke was dropped unceremoniously to the dirt. He came back to his feet unsteadily, looking to see who had stopped his fall. He stumbled at the sight, heartbeat tapping a staccato of panic, eyes white and wide and trembling. His pale hand reached out in slowly seeping shock.

Naruto.

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Naruto was on his back, looking up into dark eyes, which were filled with a shock so profound that he guffawed despite the agony in his chest.

“You’re not dead,” Sasuke sounded remote and cold, but his legs were trembling. Naruto could see the telltale shiver from his uncomfortable position on the rock strewn ground. He’d collapsed moments after breaking Sasuke’s fall, the gaping hole in his chest pulsing blood in a river down his chest.

“Nah,” Naruto replied, waving a feeble hand and wincing when the movement pulled the wound above his heart. “That was a pretty good hit, but it’ll take more than that to kill me. I have to be Hokage one day, right?”

And then the unthinkable happened. Uchiha Sasuke cried. It was so unprecedented that Naruto barely had time to react before the dark shinobi wrapped him in an awkward embrace and began to sob, broken and violent and unfettered. It sounded like the pain of ten years, and Naruto realized with a bizarre clarity that this was probably the first time Sasuke had cried since that distant night, the one that had started this whole mess.

The episode ended as abruptly as it had started. Sasuke pulled back and shook the tears from his eyes. His red-rimmed eyes and unkempt hair made him look deranged as he shrewdly examined Naruto’s face.

Naruto was beginning to think that Sasuke was schizophrenic.

“How? You were dead. You had to be. I obtained the Mangekyou.”

Naruto had no idea what that Mangekyou thing was, but he figured it could wait until later. “My clone died.”

“That was no clone.” Sasuke shivered and looked at his gore-covered left hand, then quickly folded it in his lap, as if to avoid eye contact with his own body part.

“It was a clone, mostly.” Naruto held up his own hand, staring at something only he could see. “Just like that puppet master Chiyo from Suna did for Gaara,” he murmured absently. “It was a tensei jutsu, only I didn’t give the clone my whole life, just part of it. Sorta like a real clone, ya know?”

“You’re not making any sense,” Sasuke snapped, and then he straightened rapidly. “Wait. I was falling. What about Orochimaru?” He paused, searching his memories desperately. “Am I dead?”

Naruto laughed, truly laughed for the first time in three years. “I hope not. It sure was a pain in the ass to get you back, just to have you die on me.” Then seriousness invaded his features, turned his tone to steel. “I gave it part of my chakura, Sasuke. Permanently, like separating my life force instead of just transforming stamina.” He turned his hand back and forth, admiring the fragile finger bones and flimsy tendons. “Made it flesh.”

“Wait, that means…”

“Yeah.” He grinned up at his special person. It was odd. He’d lost a part of himself forever, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling this whole. “You killed part of me, but I had plenty of Chakura to spare.”

“Naruto...”

“And everything to gain.”

Sasuke opened his mouth to respond, when a sharp cry cut him off.

“There you two are!”

Sakura? And she sounded so…cheerful.

“About time you came to your senses, Sasuke,” she said sternly, but her grin ruined her mocking reprimand, and her watery eyes ruined her grin. “Why am I not surprised that you’d only come back after you killed this idiot?”

“Hey!” Naruto squawked indignantly, his face reddening with anger, even as he grimaced with pain. “A little appreciation here! This was my plan!”

Sakura rolled her eyes and crouched down next to Naruto, green medic chakura humming along her hands and forearms. “Be quiet. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Sasuke was immobile, fists tight enough to draw his own blood. Red dripped from his clenched hands. “You…tricked me?” his voice was steady and deadly, even as his whole body shook. “You tricked me into killing you? That was your plan?”

Naruto glared briefly at him. “Well, don’t thank me or anything,” he snapped. “Figures that you’re such a prick, it would be the only way to get through to you.” He hissed as Sakura knit his body back together. “Did you have to kill Sai, too? Geez.”

“You wish, baby dick,” Sai offered as he appeared from the edge of the forest. His face was half covered in white gauze that was soaked through with blood.

Naruto tried not to laugh. It hurt. His expression sobered as he saw Sai’s ruined face. “Hey, you okay?” he asked Sai quietly.

Sai shrugged, offering that not smile of his in reply.

Naruto couldn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks, Sai.”

“Friends should protect each other’s bonds, correct?”

Sakura giggled at Sai’s awkward proclamation of friendship.

“What makes you think I’m coming back?” Sasuke snarled suddenly, interrupting Sakura’s concentration enough that her jutsu faltered.

“Oh, Sasuke, please,” Kakashi said with tired amusement as he stepped from the shadows behind Sai, Kabuto’s limp form draped over his shoulders. “Have you forgotten everything I taught you?”

Black eyes darted from one person to the next, panic making Sasuke’s breath quick. Naruto reached out his hand and grasped Sasuke’s ankle tight enough to make him wince.

“Don’t you dare, asshole,” Naruto whispered fiercely.

Sakura had leaned away from him, hand to her mouth in shock.

Sai stepped forward, as if ready to restrain Sasuke should he run.

Kakashi’s shrewd eye narrowed.

Sasuke tensed as if to flee.

Naruto used the last of his remaining strength to lever himself up from the ground, body shaking with strain. His muscled arms circled around Sasuke’s lean chest, crushing their bodies together in a fierce embrace. Tears trailed down his cheeks. Sasuke was stiff, his eyes squeezed shut in desperate denial.

“You’re coming home.”

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

To be continued…

Author’s Notes: Thanks for your patience as I revamp this. Will be back on the present timeline from here on out. Keep in mind that TD was my first multi-chapter fic, so it’s a work in progress. The scene with Oro was STILL the hardest - snake bastard sux to write. I have a fabulous beta named Archeeka, who has an awesome DeviantArt account. Go check her out! (I can’t draw! LOL!)