Regret, Remorse and Realisations
Sasuke stood at the window in the east tower, staring at the sky. He could sense the dawn approaching, feel the deathlike sleep waiting to overtake him, feel the encroaching darkness that would soon envelop him like a shroud.
He ran his hands over his cloak, felt the material curl more tightly around him, enfolding him like a cocoon spun of silk and velvet.
Naruto had seen him in wolf form in the field, his hackles raised, his fangs bared and bloody.
The image of blue eyes widened in horror, revulsion, had branded itself in his mind so that he saw it every time he closed his eyes.
Well, Sasuke mused, turning away from the window, that was that. Naruto would not want to marry him now. No doubt he would leave the castle as soon as he woke, and Sasuke would not stop him.
Knowing he would never see the blond again, he left the tower and made his way to Naruto’s chamber.
Iruka rose to his feet as his master stepped into the room.
"How is he?" Sasuke asked.
"Sleeping peacefully, my lord."
Sasuke nodded. "When he asks to leave here today, I want you to help him pack his things, then take him home, back where he belongs.
"My lord?"
"I was a fool to think there could be anything between us."
“Naruto loves you my lord, I’m sure of it.”
Sasuke shook his head. “He has a tender heart. I fear it is only pity he feels for me, and I cannot live with that. I would not have him marry me because he feels sorry for me, because he's afraid of hurting me." He shook his head again. "It's time to move on. I'm leaving here next week."
"Leaving?"
"I've been here too long already. Start packing your things, and mine, too."
"As you wish, my lord, but..."
Sasuke's head jerked up, his gaze darting toward the window. "Tis dawn," he said, his voice tight. "We will discuss it later."
Iruka sighed as he watched his master leave the room. It was a pity that one so horribly cursed should be denied the one thing he yearned for, the one thing that might bring him happiness. And yet, there had been no happiness for his master or himself. Nor, he mused ruefully, were they likely to find any.
"I didn't mean to hurt him."
Iruka whirled around. "I thought you were asleep young master.”
"I felt his presence and I woke up. Why did he... The wolf, it was him, wasn't it? He told me he could change into a wolf, but I didn't really believe it.”
"Aye, young master, 'tis true enough."
Naruto sat up and tucked the covers under his arms. "Why did he do it? Kill that sheep, I mean?"
"It's his way when what he is becomes too painful to endure. There was a time when he took his anger out on mortals, but he's not killed anyone since I've been with him."
"I didn't mean to hurt him," Naruto said again. "I'd forgotten he could read my mind."
"It's natural for you to be repulsed by what he is."
"I suppose so."
"Will you be leaving this morning?" Iruka asked carefully.
"I don't know." Naruto stared out the window. The curtains were open, and he could see the beginning of a new day. The sky was pale blue, splashed with vivid hues of gold and pink and crimson. Sasuke hadn't seen the sun in over four hundred years.
"Iruka,” Naruto called out while still staring out the window. “I want you to go into town for me. I need some new brushes."
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Sasuke woke as he always did, coming instantly awake, his senses reaching out to explore the castle. Iruka was in the kitchen preparing dinner. A stew of some kind, heavily flavoured with onions and thyme.
Was Naruto gone? Sitting up, he probed for the blond’s presence. Naruto’s life force beckoned him like a candle shining in the darkness. For a moment, Sasuke closed his eyes, his relief at knowing Naruto was still there, almost painful in its intensity. Perversely, he wondered why he hadn't left when he had had the chance.
Rising, he dressed quickly, then hurried down the winding staircase, his passing no more than a blur of movement on the darkened stairway. When he reached the bottom landing, he paused and took a deep breath.
Naruto was in the dining room.
Grabbing a hold of his cloak, rubbing the soft velvet between his thumb and forefinger, Sasuke wondered how he could face the blond after last night. Naruto had not yet seen him at his worst, when the blood lust was on him, when his eyes were sunken and burning with need. Naruto had not seen him then, when he looked more monster than man, when his skin was stretched paper thin and the hunger clawed at his vitals, demanding to be fed.
But what Naruto had seen last night was bad enough. With his emotions raw with hurt and longing, he had taken on the wolf form and killed one of the sheep. He had ripped out the animal's throat, hoping to alleviate his frustration in a burst of violence and bloodshed. Until last night, no one, save Iruka, had ever seen him like that.
He took a deep breath, chiding himself for his cowardice. He had to face the blond sometime.
Naruto looked up as he entered the room. The blond’s smile was forced, and blue eyes reflected a myriad of emotions: fear, pity, compassion, anxiety.
"Good evening, my lord," Iruka said, breaking the heavy silence.
Sasuke nodded curtly, and Iruka left the room. He returned a few moments later bearing a heavy silver decanter and a crystal goblet.
Naruto's gaze was drawn to the thick red liquid as Iruka filled the goblet and placed it in front of his master. Sasuke met Naruto's gaze as he lifted the glass. Slowly, deliberately, he took a long swallow, savouring the thick, slightly salty taste of the warm liquid.
Try as he might, Naruto could not suppress a shudder of revulsion as Sasuke drained the goblet, then placed the glass on the table. Wordlessly, Iruka lifted the decanter and refilled the goblet. Sasuke lifted his glass, his gaze capturing Naruto's as he stared at those blue eyes over the finely cut crystal. "Why are you still here?" he demanded brusquely.
"Because I wish to be here, my lord," Naruto replied, his voice barely audible. "Because you need me.”
"I don't need you, or your pity," Sasuke snapped, his voice razor sharp. "I don't need anyone."
"Don't you?"
Sasuke lifted the goblet and consumed the contents in one long swallow. "Get out," he said brusquely. "Out of my sight. Out of my house!"
Naruto stared at him a moment, stunned by the harshness in the dark lord’s voice, by the barely suppressed rage blazing in the ebony depths of his eyes. He didn't stop to wonder if Sasuke’s anger was directed at himself, or perhaps at the blond himself. Frightened and confused, he lurched to his feet and ran out of the room.
The sound of Naruto’s footsteps flying up the stone stairs echoed like thunder in his ears.
"What have I done?" he whispered brokenly.
"My lord, the wedding is to take place tomorrow night." Iruka reminded.
Sasuke stared into his empty goblet. A few bright drops of liquid clung to the crystal, reminding him of crimson tears. "I cannot marry him," he said heavily. "I cannot let him marry me.”
"His family is coming this evening."
"See that he leaves with them.”
"As you wish, my lord."
Slowly, Sasuke rose to his feet and walked to the window. Pushing the heavy drapes aside, he peered into the darkness beyond. Never had the night seemed so dark, so empty.
"I cannot go on without him." In response to the grief in his voice, his cloak wrapped more tightly around him, but, for once, the garment’s gentle caress failed to soothe him. “Iruka, what am I to do?" Sasuke all but whispered.
"Survive, my lord, as always."
Slowly, Sasuke shook his head. "I cannot." The memory of the one day Naruto had slept at his side rose up to torment him. He remembered how he had awakened, how that beautiful face, beautiful in repose, had been the first thing he had seen. He could not abide the thought of never knowing such happiness again.
He whirled around. His cloak swirled around him, then pressed against him once more. "I cannot," he whispered hoarsely, and fled the room.
.
.
.
Blending into the shadows, he sought shelter in the darkness of the night, and knew he would never find refuge in the shadows again.
Travelling with preternatural speed, he left Konohagakure far behind, his destination the city. He prowled the darkness for hours. Wandering through the fog shrouded streets of the city, he tortured himself by watching the couples strolling by. He listened to their laughter, stopped outside a cosy home to watch a mother nurse her babe, watched a father comfort a sobbing child.
Moving on, he saw a young couple embrace in the moonlight. The scent of their blood, their rising passion, teased his senses.
He moved down a quiet residential street, pausing in front of house after house to listen to the conversations of the inhabitants. He listened to children laughing, a husband arguing with his wife about the cost of a new bonnet, heard a mother crooning a lullaby to her newborn daughter.
Mundane sounds.
Ordinary sounds.
Human sounds.
And over all and through all, he saw Naruto's face, heard the soft music of his voice. Never before had he yearned for mortality as he did that night. Never had his existence seemed so empty.
He stalked the streets, his nostrils filling with the scent of humankind—the cloying perfume of a harlot, the stink of unwashed bodies near the wharf, the fragrance of powder and soap and fine tobacco as he returned to the wealthy part of the city.
He stalked a wealthier area of town, hating the wealthy inhabitants who ate and slept in their fancy houses, those members who spent their days fox hunting and shopping. Despising himself for it, he envied the rich young men who rose early in the morning to go riding, who went on to spend the afternoon at their clubs, who spent their nights at the opera in the company of other equally rich and spoiled young men and women.
And always the blood called to him, thick and rich and hot with life. But he refused to hunt, refused to give in to the need roaring through him.
He welcomed the pain, using it to remind him of what he was, to remind him that he had long ago lost any right to love any mortal.
And then he smelled the dawn.
He swore under his breath, cursing his foolishness, the anger that had kept him away from home too long. The sun chased him through the streets, its heat taunting him, filling with terror as he contemplated what would happen if he didn't reach shelter before the light found him.
For a moment, he considered surrendering to the dawn. If he couldn't have Naruto, what point was there in living? But then a bright ray of warm golden light scorched his left cheek, singed the skin of his left hand. The pain, the acrid stench of his own burning flesh, spurred him on.
He felt the searing heat of the sun on his back as he burst through the castle door and slammed it behind him, then raced up the stairs to the east tower. He was breathing heavily by the time he reached his sanctuary. The left side of his face and the back of his left hand felt as though they were on fire.
Grimacing with pain, he closed the door behind him. And then he saw it—the sun rising over a mountain lake. Bright ribbons of colour were splashed against a dawn sky—brilliant shades of orange, yellow and scarlet. The lake, its surface as smooth as a mirror, reflected the colours back to the sky. Flowers blossomed near the edge of the water. Red and yellow, pink and lavender, and pure clean white. A blue bird perched on the limb of a willow tree, it's dark eyes so bright they seemed alive.
He stared at the painting, the agony of his seared flesh forgotten. Naruto had given him a sunrise, one he could enjoy without fear.
Naruto… He lifted his hand to his cheek, surprised when his fingertips encountered wetness. He stared at the single red tear on his finger.
Naruto...
"My lord?"
Had he conjured the blond presence with his tears?
He covered the left side of his face with his right hand, hid his left hand in the deep folds of his cloak. "Did I not tell you to go?"
"I cannot leave you, my lord," Naruto replied quietly. "I promised to stay with you a year, and you..." He moved towards the dark lord. "You have promised to marry me."
Sasuke whirled around, his hand still covering his face. "Are you mad? Why did you not leave?"
"What has happened to your face?" Naruto asked, ignoring the question.
"Nothing." He turned his back to the other. "Go away Naruto."
"I will not leave you."
"Go. Now." His left hand clenched beneath the folds of his cloak. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The pain of his wounds increased his hunger. He needed blood to heal, and the blood of sheep would not suffice. Naruto. "Go!" He flinched at the touch of a hand on his back. He could feel the darkness gathering around him. Soon, he would succumb to the dreamless sleep of the undead.
"You're in pain!" Naruto exclaimed. He pressed his hand against Sasuke’s back. "I can feel it." Naruto took hold of Sasuke’s shoulder, trying to turn him. It was like trying to move a mountain. "What has happened to you?"
"Nothing. Go away, Naruto. The dawn.... I must rest."
Determined to find out what was wrong, Naruto moved around to stand in front of the dark haired man. Dark eyes burned into his, but the dark lord didn't resist this time as he drew Sasuke’s hand away from his face.
"Sasuke!" One side of his face had been horribly burned. The skin was red and raw and oozing. "What happened?"
Sasuke released a long sigh that seemed to carry all the sorrow of the world. "I was careless."
"Careless?" Naruto curled his fingers into his palm to keep from touching the dark lord.
"I was late getting home. The sun..." His words trailed off and he shrugged.
"The sun did this to you?" Sasuke nodded once, wearily. "What can I do?"
"Leave it alone, Naruto. It will heal by itself."
"It will?" Blue eyes looked at the other dubiously.
He nodded again. Reaching up, he unfastened his cloak and tossed it on the mattress. "Go away, Naruto." He lurched toward the bed, his strength ebbing as the sun rose higher in the sky. He fell back on the mattress and closed his eyes.
"Tell Iruka I need him."
"If you tell me what you need, I'll get it for you."
Sasuke groaned as if he was in pain, then shook his head. "Get Iruka."
"You need blood, don't you, to help you heal?" Naruto didn't know what made him ask that, but he knew it was true.
"Naruto... please. Get Iruka."
The way Sasuke almost begged made his need seem all the more urgent. He needed blood, and suddenly Naruto needed to give it to him, to be the one who eased his suffering.
Going to the bed, he sat down on the edge of the mattress. Gently, he smoothed a lock of blue black hair away from Sasuke’s brow, then stroked his uninjured cheek.
Sasuke's eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, Naruto thought he would send him away and then, with a sigh, Sasuke turned on his side and reached for his hand. His movements were sluggish, his eyes heavy-lidded, as he kissed his palm. The dark lord’s lips were cool and dry, sending shivers up his spine as his tongue teased the tender skin of his wrist. Ebony eyes looked up at blue, his dark eyes alight with an inner fire, and then he drew the blond into his arms, arms that held Naruto immobile, arms that were as hard and inescapable as steel bars.
Naruto felt a sudden apprehension as Sasuke’s lips skimmed the length of his neck, and shivered uncontrollably as his mouth closed over the tender flesh.
There was a sudden, sharp pain, but before Naruto could protest, the hurt was swallowed up in a wave of pleasure that was oddly sensual.
Sasuke was drinking his blood. He should have been sickened, shocked, disgusted. Instead, Naruto felt a rush of satisfaction. Sasuke was in need, and he was answering that need in the most intimate way possible.
A strange languor settled over him. Sasuke’s mouth was warm, strangely erotic, and he pressed himself against the dark lord, wanting to be closer. He felt a tongue stroking his skin, once, twice. A moan escaped his lips when Sasuke drew away.
"Naruto? Naruto!" Sasuke shook the blond slightly. "Answer me!"
"Don't stop," Naruto murmured.
Fear for the blond’s life dispelled the lethargy that dragged Sasuke down toward darkness. With an effort, he sat up, one arm holding Naruto against him. He stared in horror at the twin marks that marred the perfection of Naruto’s throat. What had he done?
Iruka! His mind screamed the name.
Moments later, Iruka appeared in the doorway.
"Bring him something to drink. Hurry!" Iruka left as quickly as he had arrived. Minutes later, he returned carrying a cup of hot tea heavily laced with brandy.
"Naruto, drink this." Sasuke held the delicate china cup to pale pink lips, his brow furrowed as he watched the blond swallow the contents.
Naruto gasped as he took a sip of the tea. He had never tasted spirits before, and the brandy burned a bright path down his throat to his stomach.
"All of it," Sasuke urged.
Heat suffused him as he obediently drank the rest of the tea.
Sasuke smiled as the colour returned to Naruto's cheeks. "Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.
Naruto hiccupped, then grinned up drunkenly at him.
"What happened?" Iruka’s voice held an authoritative tone.
"I fear I may have taken more than I should have."
Iruka glared at Sasuke, his mild brown eyes glinting with anger as he realised why Naruto had looked so pale when he first entered the room, why he appeared disoriented and weak. "You didn't!" Iruka exclaimed. "Tell me you did not use this child to quench your fiendish thirst!"
Sasuke looked away, unable to face the censure in his servant's face. For the first time in over four hundred years, he was embarrassed by what he had done.
"Why didn't you call me?" Iruka asked, his voice thick with accusation. He glanced at Naruto's flushed cheeks. "It's one thing to take a little from time to time. That, I can understand. But this, to use him like one of your blasted sheep…”
Sasuke's head snapped up, his dark eyes filled with warning. "You will be silent," he said curtly, "or I will silence you forever."
Iruka quickly swallowed the retort that rose to his lips.
"It was my idea," Naruto said sleepily, unnerved by the tension that vibrated like a living entity between the two men. "He told me to call you, but I didn't.”
"Look how pale he is." Iruka took a step forward, worry evident in his furrowed brow. "You've taken too much."
Sasuke shook his head. He hadn't taken enough to put Naruto in danger. It was just that it was the first time he had taken more than a thimbleful. Muttering an oath, he fell back on the bed, unable to fight the darkness any longer. "Take care of him..." he murmured, and then the blackness claimed him.