Growing Brave | By : Ljiljana Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 889 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: Naruto mange or characters from it do not belong to me and I earn no money from writing this story. |
Warnings: Nothing
special. Some death indicated; but the story is settled in the WWII so that’s
to expect. Some torture mentioned, but nothing detailed. Keep in mind I’ve done
the research only vaguely, so there is (seriously!) a possibility my facts are
not all straight.
The story is written as a
happy birthday gift to Yuuko Uchiha.
Growing Brave
February,
1944.
The uniform was exactly his size, but he felt slightly
uncomfortable wearing it anyway. The markings on insignia consisted of a three
silver pips and two silver stripes on a black collar patch and it was on the
opposite side from the unit insignia patch, which meant that he was wearing the
uniform of a Hauptsturmführer,
or a captain, of the Waffen-SS. It was a mental discomfort though, so it
was easy to cover for it with an impassive face and correct posture.
Sasuke slipped into the driver seat of the shiny black car
without hesitation and without turning back, but he could feel Itachi’s eyes on
him anyway, and it felt like a grave premonition. It was not a very good way to
go to a place the like of which Sasuke was going now, because it was far more
likely that he would die than come back to him, but he was still very angry
with his brother at the moment. A nagging little whisper in his head told him
he could regret it, but Sasuke firmly focused on what was important now, and
that was Naruto.
The car started and moved swiftly,
headlights violently bright while leaving the front of the yard unlit, plain
and unfamiliar house; just like a car of a mid-ranked officer of the Waffen-SS
should. The local headquarters was just outside of the town, so Sasuke had some
time to clear his head of the fight he’d had with Itachi, and steel himself for
what was he about to do.
This was, after all, his very first combat action, even
though he had been an irreplaceable part of the resistance movement for almost
six months.
January, 1943
When a rock hit his
window, Sasuke knew it was Naruto, because glass almost broke from the force of
the hit and because, well, no one else he knew would be bold enough – or idiot
enough - to walk around after the curfew, except for Itachi. But Itachi had a spare
key, even though he was using it rarely, so there was no reason for him to
throw rocks at the windows of his own house.
Sasuke opened a wing
of the window facing the elaborate backyard of the old Uchiha house built in
stone. Naruto was indeed there, looking up at him with a smile that was
nervous but somehow clear in the light of the moon. Sasuke gritted his teeth, refusing to make it any easier on him,
so he pretended he had no idea what was going on.
“You moron,” He
hissed, softly, but the sound echoed off the next door building anyway. ‘Are
you trying to get yourself arrested again?”
Naruto huffed, annoyed,
but that was all. He glanced quickly around, even though there was no way for
him to be seen from the street. The yard was nestled in-between the old houses
and planted cypresses. He quickly climbed onto the small ledge under Sasuke’s
window until they were on the same level, face to face. It was not very high,
but he still held onto the windowsill tightly.
“I thought,” Naruto whispered
in a thick, loaded voice, looking somewhere beside Sasuke’s elbow, “I should
say goodbye to someone. And, there’s no one else.”
There was no one else, Naruto was an orphan.
And, yeah, Sasuke knew what was going on; Naruto had been talking about it for
weeks. It was just a matter of time when he would find a reliable connection
and join the resistance. Sasuke absolutely refused to ask Itachi, who was a
long-standing member, because he had wanted Naruto to remain safe – if he had
to worry about his brother every day, than at least he wouldn’t have to worry
about his best friend as well. But, Naruto was stubborn. He’d obviously found
someone else.
Sasuke gritted his
teeth harder, so he wouldn’t give in to the fear welling up in his stomach. “You’re
going somewhere?”
Naruto finally looked right
at him; half amused, half scornful.
“You know I am. And I
have to hurry, they’re waiting for me.”
There was nothing to
say to that, but Naruto seemed to expect something from him anyway. Silence
stretched and Naruto just kept looking at him, until Sasuke’s throat was dry
and itchy from the effort not to yell or try to keep him right there, where he
could see him.
“Right,” Sasuke managed
finally, and some emotion broke through.
Naruto took a deep,
deep breath, casting one more look down - probably to where his contact was
waiting, and then, before Sasuke could even react, he leaned over the
windowsill until they were nose to nose. The sudden closeness and bright,
penetrating eyes, made Sasuke want to step back, but Naruto grabbed the back of
his neck to keep him in place and kissed him, dry and firm, right on the mouth.
It took seconds for
Sasuke to react, to move his hand, or try to do anything at all, but as soon as
Naruto realized the shock had faded from Sasuke, he retreated.
“I’ll see you once all
this is over, okay?” Naruto whispered, and not waiting for an answer, he jumped
down on the ground and ran across the back yard until he disappeared into the
shadows of the cypresses that were welcoming him with an acrid song created by the
wind sailing through their branches.
The gate was made of iron posts, insanely high with spear
points at the ends of them, and it was new. Sasuke knew this house – which was
one of the boundaries for his plan – but it was heavily renovated recently and
the gate was added then, which was bad in case the need for immediate escape
arose. He stopped the car in front of it, and one of the guards approached to
check his papers and ask about his intentions; when Sasuke opened the door to
pass the guard his documents the barking of the dogs could be heard, loud and
close.
Most of Sasuke’s extremely black hair was under the cap, but
his skin was fair and the moonlight was not very bright anyway. Hopefully no
one would look too much into his appearance; after all these years of war, the
physical requirements for class distinction were bound to be less strict; or,
so he hoped.
The soldier was young and inexperienced, so there was some luck. Sasuke impatiently rapped his
knuckles against the wheel when the boy had to move his weapon from one
shoulder to the other, and a nervous hand almost dropped his papers before
Sasuke even let go of them properly.
They were most likely good, because Sakura was brilliant at making
false documents, but Sasuke didn’t think this boy saw a letter of it from the
fear. The reputation of SS officers was very familiar to the remaining soldiers
as well, it seemed. Sasuke gave the boy the most scornful glare he could
manage, because that was probably the least that was expected of him and
because if the boy kept showing his emotions like that, he would end up in real
trouble as soon as a real mid-ranked
officer showed up.
The gate opened at the wave of the guard’s hand, and Sasuke
drove the car through it – the only brother of the unofficial
leader of the resistance movement in the entire area, the only one who had all the
information on the actions and missions that the movement had done in the last
half year due to his organizing and translating skills, calmly drove a stolen
car into the enemies’ Headquarters all by himself; without support, without
reinforcement.
Fucking
Itachi.
But Naruto was there, captured almost two days ago, so
Sasuke marked the proper part of the plan in his head as successful; he was
inside. He turned the car right away to face the exit, for easier escape – just
in case he lived long enough to need one.
Spring, 1943
In the first several
months after the war came to their town – well, it wasn’t technically a war, it
was military invasion – all the schools had to be closed. There was this man, a
director of the local high school, who talked too loud about the things that
shouldn’t even have been whispered. He was shot inside the town square for it. For
a very long time after that incident all schools were closed.
When they were finally
re-opened, not even a half of the teachers could be found. Some were dead, some
runaways and some, the boldest kind, had left the country, gone to fight at the
frontline. Sasuke - as the best student of his generation - was asked, with a
couple of others, to take care of and teach some of the children, those seven
to eleven years old. So he wasn’t feeling helpless or useless sitting at home;
not even compared to his brother, who was one of the leaders of the resistance
movement. After all, if Sasuke wasn’t there to take the monthly beating from
the Gestapo when they would come to look for Itachi, if he wasn’t there to
answer annoying, pointless questions, they would turn on his parents.
But once Naruto was
gone as well, he became restless. It was one thing, being worried about Itachi
who was smart, collected and thorough; it was entirely different worrying about
Naruto, who was reckless, a bit dumb at times, and had quite a temper.
Besides, there was
that goodbye kiss thing.
Not that Sasuke
thought about that often. Thinking about the things Naruto would do when he was
in a mood for them, and had no sense at all when considering whether or not he
should, was a waste of time. They usually meant nothing. This one meant nothing
as well; Naruto just wanted someone to miss him, someone to remember him in
case he died, so he went a bit . . . too far.
Despite that solid
knowledge, on some nights, when everything was too still and quiet, he would
wake up in his bed with the memory of that kiss; a memory that was too vivid,
too familiar and very painful. He missed Naruto, because Naruto was the only
friend he’d ever had. He missed those horrible jokes, being dragged around to
places he didn’t care about and that bright, careless smile.
Only, after the war
started, Naruto laughed less, and much more often agreed to stay in, sometimes
remaining unnaturally still for hours usually spread out on a bed and occupied
with something that was happening in his own head, and not at Sasuke.
When summer came and
the children at school were on break, Sasuke thought he might go mad if his horrible,
almost violent mood continued for long. Around that time, his mother had started
to have these minor breakdowns, she would forget things and look through the window
too often, and worst of all, she started calling Sasuke by his brother’s name.
To avoid seeing how her face would brighten with happiness every time she
mistook him for his brother, Sasuke was spending more and more time in his
room, thinking about his options. Next time when a nameless guy came by with a
small sugar bag and whispered reassurance of Itachi’s well being, Sasuke gave
him a note. It said: “I want out.”
Only after he
carefully prepared the things he wanted with him did it occur to Sasuke that ‘I
want in” would probably have been a better way to phrase it. But, it didn’t
matter. Itachi would understand.
Sure enough, the very
next evening the answer came, not as a note, but a one word message from the
mouth of yet another stranger. It was a simple ‘No’. Sasuke rolled his eyes at
his older, always overly protective brother’s answer. He wrote another note on
a piece of paper he ripped out of the sugar bag. It said: “Old train station.
One week.”
The old train station
was where those who had wanted to volunteer for the frontlines, as part of the
resistance, were told to gather at the beginning of the war. The meeting place had long since changed, but that was after Itachi
left home. Before that, always when they talked about the options available to
the resistance that place was mentioned. What Sasuke meant was that if Itachi
refused to make a place for him in his own crowd, Sasuke would find a way to go
to the front on his own. He was serious, too. Even just one more week in the
house, with a mother that was slowly going insane and a father who was growing
more attached to his extensive liqueur collection with each passing day than to
his own family was unacceptable.
It worked, of course.
Itachi came himself the next night, angry but quiet. He used his key and walked
through the living room where their mother had fallen asleep looking through
the window, ironically waiting for him, without waking her up. Sasuke was not
asleep, so Itachi cracked the door of his room open and gave him the sign to
follow. He led the way out and down a couple of streets, where he gave orders
to a couple of waiting men to go back to the house, collect their parents and
take them to a small village on the other side of the river - which would make
them fugitives, but relatively safer than remaining in a town where they would
be known as the parents of traitorous cowards. Sasuke then followed Itachi and
them to the very edge of town, to the headquarters that was different from the
one Sasuke had visited before when he’d been asked to help with some documents
and codes in German.
But when the car
stopped, instead of going out, Itachi grabbed his elbow.
“I had to work very
hard on transferring him into my team. Don’t fuck it up.”
Because Sasuke knew
only one person in the movement aside from his brother, ha had no doubt Itachi
was talking about Naruto. Swallowing the urge to ask how he was doing, Sasuke
settled for the second best, because Itachi had never liked Naruto. ”Why’d you do that?”
Itachi simply
answered, “Because I like having the best on my team.” Which was several kinds
of disturbing.
February, 1944
No one else asked for his papers, a little thing Sasuke deemed
ridiculous considering how young and obviously inexperienced the boy on the
gate was. No one from the extensive guard that hailed him on his way in saw anything
suspicious, apparently, because they let him through the large door with red
flags on both sides. The warmth of the hallway was not welcome, only abrupt
after the icy wind outside, but the dogs quieted down; the barking died away,
which was something Sasuke was thankful for.
Only, once he was inside an officer with glasses and
insignia that labeled him as Feldwebel, something similar to a squad/section leader, asked him to
clarify his business.
The house was nothing less then breathtaking judging by the
interior. Where once was dangerous garbage, pieces of concrete and steel rails,
now there were chambers painted white, functional wooden furniture and clean
floors. It was eerily bright after leaving the dark night behind.
Sasuke told him, careful to keep his voice commanding –
which had, ironically, never been a problem before – that he was there to pick
up and transfer the prisoner. It had been a long time since he’d had the
opportunity to actually speak German,
not just read it, but it still had the right ring to his ears. There was no
need to say Naruto’s name, because there was only one prisoner, according to
the data he’d been studying for hours before coming here. That was important
enough for an officer of the SS to be interested in him.
The section leader led him around the staircase and through
a door down to the basement.
Spring/Summer 1943
It took a lot of
glaring before Itachi decided to take a hint and tell him where Naruto was,
without him having to actually ask about it. It turned out that Naruto was one
of those sent to make sure their parents arrived at their destination safely,
and that he should return that night. It was a good thing, to have with them someone
they knew, and Naruto had been eating at the family table ever since he was twelve.
Though, judging from what Itachi said earlier, that might not have been the
reason Naruto was sent.
He should be back soon
enough one way or the other, so Sasuke waited.
It was easy to pretend
he wasn’t waiting, because it seemed as there was always work to be done. They
- Sasuke didn’t even want to think about who they might be - were managing to
translate quite a lot of stolen documents, some encrypted, and it was work
Sasuke was familiar with. When he glanced at the translator who was working on
the files before he came in, there was no turning back; the work was so
sensitive, a disaster could happen from mere reading, not to mention if a
mission was based on inaccurate or incorrect information. No wonder only one of
one hundred missions was successful and Sasuke finally realized why Itachi, the
overprotective freak, had risked so much to bring Sasuke in to work on
information that was considered especially important several times before.
Engrossed in work,
Sasuke almost forgot what he was waiting for, when, near daybreak, a group of
people walked silently down the stairs into the wide basement of the old hotel
by the freeway, where the HQ was currently settled. He looked up to watch three
people, one by one, enter the spacey ‘living room’, Naruto was the last one.
They all looked good; not hurt or in a hurry, so everything went well.
“Who’s that?” One of
them, with dark hair in an old leather jacket, asked. Naruto looked up to where
he was sitting, but instead of greeting Sasuke, he turned and whispered
something to the guy who had voiced the question. From the look he got after
that, Sasuke knew he was just introduced as Itachi’s little brother; something
not even war can change. Not that he minded it as much nowadays.
“My parents?” he asked
as brusquely as he could. If Naruto couldn’t say hello, or give any sort of
sign he was aware that Sasuke was present then he wouldn’t either. But, Sasuke
couldn’t help but ask about what was such a constant in his mind.
“Everything went
well,” the man from before said, and it was a good answer. He couldn’t have
known if Sasuke was in on the specifics or not, so this was a good way to
reassure him and not give up information. As he probably wouldn’t manage to get
out any extra information, Sasuke returned his attention to the translation
correction that was almost done. The steps, after some murmuring, announced
that the group was retreating, but he could still feel a presence in the room.
Naruto must have stayed behind.
Sasuke held his breath,
angry with himself for it. There were more important things to think about
right now; there was war, there was danger just on the other side of the door.
There were his parents, too, dumped somewhere safe but far away, so they
wouldn’t pay in death for the choices their sons had made - but here he was,
pretending he was reading from the sheet of paper in front of him, unable to
think about anything but how Naruto had kissed him when he left, about the
bitter wind in the cypresses and how the imprint of his lips had been coming
back to him in restless dreams for months now.
Sasuke never heard him
approaching from the heartbeat that was resounding suddenly in his ears – and
that was new, even with this new thing between them, it was still just Naruto,
not a stranger – but a shadow fell on his face and Sasuke lifted his head once
again. Naruto wasn’t happy to see him, that was at least clear at first glance.
The look on his face was odd, a mixture Sasuke had never seen before; anger,
and worry and also some insane intensity that made him think Naruto would hit
him any second now.
Lifting an eyebrow
skeptically, Sasuke asked, keeping his voice level, “Itachi says you’re quite
good at this – working the underground
Naruto, relaxing a
bit, narrowed his eyes. “I’m very
good. The best.”
He said nothing after
that, so Sasuke returned his attention to the paper, not that he could read
anything right then. This awkwardness was ridiculous; as was Naruto’s behavior.
He acted almost like Sasuke had done something wrong, something he should have
asked about first.
Naruto paced the room a couple of times before
he stopped suddenly. “What are you doing here?”
“Translating this
shit,” Sasuke answered as calmly as possible, but his patience, never his
strong suit anyway, was wearing off, “as even you should be able to see.”
Naruto obviously wasn’t in the mood to play, as
if an insult of that kind was nothing more than a game, because he was next to
Sasuke’s chair in an instant; he grabbed the backrest and turned it forcefully
until Sasuke was facing him.
“You were supposed to
be home. Safe.”
Sasuke just barely
managed not to snort. “Don’t be an idiot. Nowhere is safe nowadays.”
It was not something
Naruto could argue, so he shut his mouth. But Sasuke knew what he meant. If it
was his choice, he would have made both Itachi and Naruto sit in a locked room
and not lift a finger until the end of the war. In fact, if that was what it
would take for them survive, he would be more than happy to watch them be German
occupation’s pet dogs But as neither
one of them had even a milligram of submissiveness in them, they just had to go
and join the resistance movement. And, just like always, there was nothing else
for Sasuke to do but to follow.
Naruto was too close
for Sasuke to think of a good way to assure him he had no plans of jumping in
front of the flying bullets. For one insane moment, he thought about returning
the favor and seeing how Naruto would react if Sasuke kissed him out of the blue - and it was a good
thought, one that made him sort of warm in the cold basement - but then Naruto
countered with, “You have to go where your parents are. I can’t take care of
you.”
The actual color of
rage is not red, Sasuke thought, debating on how to exactly hit Naruto so it
hurt him more. It’s ridiculously yellow. He was not something to take care of,
but there was always someone trying to do exactly that anyway. His parents were
overprotective when he was young, they spoiled him rotten and even though
Sasuke was grateful when that stopped, he never really wanted it for the price
of war; not for them to stop because his brother was in a real danger. And then
there was Itachi, who was never as obvious, but always lurking around and
watching over him.
So, what, now even
Naruto, someone who was supposed to be a friend, an equal is trying to do the
same? It’s too much and now it could possible be the right time to prove it to
everyone he does not need their protection.
“You are wasting my
time.” He said, aiming for cold and getting the dead edge in his voice thanks to
the effort. “So get lost.”
Naruto let go of the
chair and stepped back as if he’d been burned. He opened his mouth to say
something and then closed it after finding nothing to say. Sasuke ignored him, with
a dull ache in his chest, returning instead to the translation.
“Worry,” Naruto said, his
voice somewhat strangled. “I meant - I can’t worry about you now. I can’t.”
What Naruto meant was
unimportant. Sasuke never before needed anyone to take care of him, not even to
worry about him, and that was not about to change just because circumstances
were harsher. His focus was suddenly sharp and set firmly on the translation.
Naruto hesitated for a bit, but they’d known each other for far too long for
Naruto to actually try again, so after a couple of long minutes, he walked out.
The room felt much
emptier than before. Sasuke didn’t mind it at all.
February, 1944
The staircase was rough and long, leading into the basement
that was either a lot smaller than it was when Sasuke was a kid, when he and
Naruto had stumbled across the empty place, exploring, or he had gotten taller.
He was very careful not to brush against the freshly painted walls. A stained
uniform is unacceptable on a soldier
At closer inspection, the basement was smaller after all; three
cells were built in along the wall opposite from the staircase. All the
formalities were completed on the way down; Sasuke thought he did well,
explaining his orders to transfer the prisoner to the capital, where the most
competent experts for extracting information in the country were. He got a
report on the prisoner’s behavior and how they couldn’t pull a single word out
of him – except for some very colorful swearing, according to the translator. The
officer leading the way gave Sasuke no odd looks while he spoke, so even his
accent, the only part of his German that was even remotely questionable, must
have been good.
He was directed to the cell that was farthest away from the
edge of the stairwell. It felt almost like an accomplishment, that his heart
could beat even harder, but it did. Naruto was just on the other side of that
door, his mind whispered so Sasuke did what was expected of him, and marched into
the pointed direction.
The soldier who was standing near the cells hailed him and
as soon as he got the greeting in turn, he unlocked what was apparently
Naruto’s cell.
Sasuke stepped inside.
Winter 1943/44
Sasuke was not quite
as mad at Naruto as he was in the first few weeks – or at least he wasn’t mad
for the same reason.
He was stuck inside,
working on the papers; decoding, translating, setting up missions, arranging
teams - everything that was off the terrain; and Sasuke was content doing
exactly that. Many missions were planned for other, bigger, places and he even
made all the preparations for several that took place inside the capital city –
all successful. The movement was full of
hot headed idiots that always went head first, claiming they have instincts to guide
them, which was complete nonsense. As welcome as good instincts are, they could
do nothing without at least basic preparation; it was a waste for people to die
because those few that had some brains inside of the movement were too busy to
work out a useable plan of action.
Itachi would not allow
them to go just like that, of course, but Sasuke brought preparation onto the
next level. The successfulness of the missions was incomparably higher. The death
rate was lower, though not drastically so. Those reckless fools could say
anything they want, Sasuke did them all much more good than he could ever have
done being on the outside as just an extra hand.
Sasuke really loved the
part he had in the movement; he just wished it was by his own choice and not
because his brother was afraid for him. That was annoying and it made him
irritable whenever Itachi was near – and when Itachi was away, he was worried,
so that wasn’t working well at all.
The fear for those who
were going out on the missions was constant. If sitting around and waiting for
your friends to come back from the danger was hard, it was three times as hard
to wait for them when you know exactly where they are, what they’re doing, and
when you know that you were the one who sent them out there.
He wasn’t doing well
emotionally, especially in the beginning. With time, things were not getting
easier, but he had learned how to cope, how to stay distracted. Talking to Sakura
– or more accurately, listening to her telling him specifics of each and every
weapon in existence – was one way. Having sex was the other. Both worked only
partially, and the second way also brought annoyance when ever he would lose
the fight with himself and think about Naruto instead of about the person he
was with.
With promiscuity came
the reputation, and once rumors started, Naruto stopped trying to apologize and
be friends again. It hurt, but for a long time already everything hurt, so that
was nothing so significantly different to make him stop. Only with everybody,
with every different girl – and later guys, too – his obsession with Naruto’s
chaste little good bye kiss from so long ago increased.
In the late fall,
Sasuke couldn’t even be in the same room as Naruto. He wanted to look, to
touch, to grab Naruto by the hair that was too long and often uncombed, around
the nearest corner and give him a proper kiss. But that was dangerous, he cared
too much as it was. It was better for Naruto as well if they never became close
enough again, in any way. Death was waiting in every shadow these days; a loss
of such significance could cost you your own life.
In winter, something
happened to change things. A mission went really, really wrong.
Four people – Kiba
because he was good with car mechanics and all of their trucks were old and in
desperate need of repair; Asuma, because he was the one who’d found the huge armory
storage; Sakura, because she knew exactly what they needed the most and Naruto
with them because they refused to take on something so big without him on the
team, were sent to steal from the enemies’ storage unit. They had support, a
large number of the resistance, because the mission was important, but they
were the only ones at the fire line, if they were discovered . . . And, that was exactly what happened
Sasuke knew no
specifics then, but both supporting teams came back earlier then expected. They
heard the shooting from inside of the warehouse, soon after that the local police
started to patrol in the area in much larger numbers, so they gave up hope
Naruto would somehow save the day once again, and ran.
They made the right
decision, Sasuke knew that. They had to take care of what they could. But it
didn’t help, the night stretched on; the hours were long and painful with
nothing but the sounds of rain outside. By two in the morning, Sasuke was so
scared he almost wished he could have Naruto’s corpse on his hands instead of
the waiting.
Everyone knew Naruto
and Sasuke were best friends and were now in some great fight, but not many of
them suspected quite how much he cared. There was no room left for doubt after
that night; not when Sasuke couldn’t make his hands stop shaking and not after
he yelled and cursed, and when Itachi had to use his authority and order people
to physically stop him from going to the warehouse on his own.
They came back though,
just before dawn.
The movement was
stationed in a two story house that belonged to some people who ran out of
town, and even thought the knocking on the window on the street’s side was
correct, everyone were too tense, so when Naruto came inside the tight hall, he
had at least five guns pointed into his head.
He laughed, but it was
not sincere and he was tired. “Wow, are we having new rules now? You get killed
for a failed mission?”
His voice broke the
tension, and even as the weapon was being moved, some people threw themselves at
Naruto and the people who were behind him, waiting to come
further inside. Sasuke couldn’t move from the spot, he just leaned on the wall
behind him, and for the first time ever, enjoyed the racket.
After a few minutes,
the crowd moved into the direction of the kitchen, so Sasuke opened his eyes to
check once more that Naruto is alive. It took him a moment to find the blond
head among the others, and when his eyes finally met blue, now honestly laughing
gaze, Naruto flinched and stopped in his tracks, like someone poured hot water
at him.
Not sure what was it
that Naruto saw on him, Sasuke nodded his head - to say that he was glad Naruto
was fine, that he was alright; what ever was it that Naruto needed reassurance
about. Then he turned and climbed the stairs up, his knees horribly instable.
Alone in the room he
was sharing with a couple of people, Sasuke only had enough time to ask himself
was he completely out of his mind, they – Naruto
was in danger all the time, why was he overreacting?- when the door opened
behind him.
February, 1944
It was bad, as Sasuke expected it to be. But nothing
prepared him for seeing Naruto beaten and bloody, chained to the walls, with
his hair and the remainder of a once white shirt wet, but he hadn’t let
anything show on his face, even though he entered the cell alone.
It was tiny and completely bare. A naked light bulb swinging
from the ceiling was the only decoration the room had, and when he pulled the
chord, the brightness was violent and painful. The scene in front of Sasuke
hadn’t changed, though. Naruto was chained to the wall, but the chains were
long enough to allow him to sit down on the ground; with his face turned to the
door and knees up to his chest, he looked small and sad.
Naruto looked up when Sasuke stopped. His eyes, that held
nothing of that childish feature his body was showing, widened for a moment,
and then he snorted some blood out in attempt to laugh. “Now I know you fuckers
gave me some drugs.”
The blood was disconcerting because there were no visible
wounds, which meant it might be caused by some kind of internal damage. No
mater how much he wanted to check him out more closely, to make sure Naruto was
okay, to untie him, Sasuke knew all would be lost if he did any of that. It was
not very likely a German officer would touch a prisoner unless it was to harm
him further
He turned and walked out without ever speaking to Naruto. A
short nod to the soldier that was guarding the door was enough to make the man
burst into movement, enter the cell, and unlock padlocks on Naruto’s wrists. There
was noise from the other cells, a voice calling out that Sasuke thought he
knew, but there was nothing he could do for the person inside either way.
The warrant officer disappeared in the meantime. Sasuke
tried not to worry about it.
Winter 1943/44
Cheers and laughter
could still be heard downstairs; after so much noise and circulation, people
going in and out, trying to get some information and now this, they will have
to find the place to move right away.
There was little doubt
about who had followed him up, and Naruto erased it when he called softly,
“Sasuke?”
It would go much
easier if he just didn’t have to turn, but the temptation was too strong. There
seemed to be a part of Sasuke’s mind that was still hesitant to believe Naruto
was really alright, and it demanded of him to walk over where the steps had died
away and use his hands to make sure it was not just a ghost, that it was actual
warm and alive flesh of his best friend there. He had to turn, but a firm grip
on the edge of the plain wooden table beside him kept him in place.
Naruto’s clothes were
dirty, mud and blood stains everywhere, and there was something in his hair. It
made Sasuke want to go to him even more, to check for a pulse, breath even
frost-bite, anything to reassure him. His fingers were starting to hurt from
digging into the hard wood, and Naruto was neither coming closer nor edging
away.
“What?” Sasuke asked
finally, wishing with a sort of helplessness that would be less so - perhaps at
least snappy, if not indifferent.
“You look horrible.”
Naruto stated, like he had any right to judge on that, and took a single step
closer. “Were you worried? We
had to wait in the sewers until the patrols eased up – like you said before we headed
out, there was a vent just behind the corner. . .”
His voice died away.
“I’m glad you’re
alive,” Sasuke answered, looking away from the confusion on Naruto’s face. He
was so much more than glad; he was relieved, he was breathing again.
Naruto murmured,
“Well, that’s something.”
Sasuke let go of the
table to get his sleeping shirt out of the bag next to the mattress that had
been his bed for several weeks now. It was a little easier when he wasn’t
looking in that direction, but Naruto’s presence was still heavy and powerful
in the room.
“You should go clean
up,” Sasuke said, not turning around. “I have to get some rest.”
It was probably the
truth; he’d been up for more than thirty hours, researching for the mission and
then waiting, but he was wide awake now, with Naruto so close, with his blood coursing
longingly through his system. He didn’t want to rest.
“Sasuke,” Naruto asked,
still murmuring but so much closer now, just a step away. “Are we ever going to
be friends again?”
‘No’ would be the
honest answer. ‘Things changed; we’re not what we were.’
Sasuke lied. “I don’t know.”
Naruto sighed, heavily,
and answered with so much bitterness in his voice, it made Sasuke cringe, “That
was one thing war was not supposed to spoil.”
But it wasn’t the war,
Sasuke thought, and then said, “You left.”
The only answer for a
moment was a warm hand over his shoulder, the small not-quite-touch that made
him shiver despite the effort Sasuke invested in stopping it. Naruto leaned
closer, until his breathing was loud and sparkling on Sasuke’s neck. “I’ve
never left you.”
Naruto was talking as
if they were lovers, as if Sasuke actually had any right to demand to know
anything, and that was just a lie, so he moved away and out of reach. The
weakness in his knees was still there, making his steps slightly awkward and
sloppy.
“It was a long time
ago anyway. There is no point in talking about it.”
Naruto got mad. “Yes,
there is. I want to know why you are so pissed at me! I want to know whatever I
have done to you that was so horrible you can’t stay
in the same room whenever I walk in!”
How can he explain?
You kissed me, but it was only once, just so I could know what I can’t have.
You kissed me, and now I can’t really breathe from the want, from the power of the
need to kiss you back when you’re close? Not that Sasuke would say that. But it
was the truth; that kiss had woken up something that was asleep inside him
until then, something possessive and selfish, something that was not friendship.
“Just tell me what I
can do so you’d forgive me.” Naruto’s voice was lower now, but still mad, still
clear and sane. Sasuke wanted, he wanted badly to simply answer ‘kiss me again’,
and maybe he would have said something, but it got lost in the feel of Naruto
grabbing his elbow to turn him around. “Or, for fuck’s sake, at least look at
me!”
His eyes were not
shut, not really, but shadowed by the hair that was meant to be bright yet was
wet and dirty, and with eyes that were supposed to be angry but instead were
pleading, it felt as if he had just opened them. Naruto smelled like soil and
filthy street water and his fingers were making holes in the flesh of Sasuke’s
arm.
“It’s not a good
idea,” Sasuke warned him, “to be so close.”
It really wasn’t, for
some reason; he was sure of it. Naruto looked confused, maybe even hurt and he
let go of Sasuke but it was already too late for that, so Sasuke crossed that
tiny step that was still between them, removed some filth from Naruto’s
shoulder with his right hand and pushed him back with his left.
“Oh,” Naruto said, in
wonder, when he hit the table behind him. He moved his hand, placing it
somewhere in between them, in the way, so Sasuke caught his wrist in
mid-movement and shoved it back forcefully. Their hands hitting the board
together made a loud, loud noise in the room where no one was even breathing.
Naruto said it again with less surprise and more understanding this time and
found the way around Sasuke’s waist to grab on tightly and bring them flat
against each other.
Not even kissing could
be friendly and pleasant between them any longer, it seemed. They met half way,
and it was a fight and not a real kiss from the beginning, hard and
unforgiving, and full of flames that burned away the oxygen between them. They
could not stop – Sasuke couldn’t
stop, couldn’t get enough, because Naruto was addictively sweet and inhumanly
warm. Fingers found their way between them again; the warm touch was killing
the buttons of Sasuke’s shirt until it was open and then Naruto tore his mouth
away.
The shivers from the
loss made Sasuke let go of Naruto’s hand on the table so he could lean on it,
but Naruto was still there, still close and warm and licking that dizzyingly
sensitive place on Sasuke’s neck. The moan that escaped him without a thought
met the low growl Naruto let out before biting down, over and over again, until
Sasuke wasn’t in any condition to think or resist when he was turned around and
pushed toward the mattress on the floor.
Naruto’s shirt
disappeared next, and the skin beneath it tasted bitter from sweat and mud, but
Sasuke couldn’t bring himself to care. He licked a trail to Naruto’s right
nipple; it tasted the same, but the texture under his tongue was different, and
Naruto was shaking and clutching his fingers much too forcefully into Sasuke’s
shoulders and neck, where, tomorrow, tracks would be visible.
The next time Naruto
managed to push, Sasuke found the wall with his back. The rough brick was
colder than the rain outside, and the body covering his was warmer than the
fire in the furnace in the corner; the contrast was uncomfortable for a second.
Naruto kissed him again when he gasped, and again and again, like he couldn’t
get enough of kissing, like they had all the time in the world for it, and all
the traces of violence and anger vanished.
Sasuke held him close
with one hand, and let the other wander over Naruto’s skin, over his neck,
shoulder and down his spine. When the circle was done, his fingernails were full
of filth and Naruto’s breathing was nothing but frantic gasps that were
wrapping themselves around his cock like a cord made of rubber would. Finding
Naruto’s hand that was lost in Sasuke’s hair, he guided it to press a hot palm
over the bulge in his old, thick pants. Naruto shifted to look down at his
hand, at Sasuke’s crotch; he squeezed, fisted to the best of his abilities and
dropped wordlessly onto his knees.
It almost hurt him,
the forcefulness and Naruto’s impatience with the zipper. Once his cock hit the cold air though, Naruto
stopped, frozen in mid-movement, just looking up at him, searching for
something, asking questions with his eyes but Sasuke had no idea what it was
all about so he blinked and slid down the wall. The silhouette of Naruto
against the gray, dim light of the dawn was dark and familiar.
Naruto shook off what
was distracting him with a jerky movement of his head, his grip tightened and he
leaned over to kiss Sasuke again.
February, 1944
Naruto’s eyes were wide and on Sasuke when he stumbled out
of the cell, with his hands tightly tied behind his back. There was curiosity
and some kind of frightened suspicion in them; all Sasuke wanted to do was snap
at him or maybe kiss him. The infamous, irreplaceable great fighter of the
movement, the one everyone wanted on his team for extra safety, almost openly
gaping, would be quite a funny picture - if they were not inside of a snake
lair, in such grave danger. So Sasuke
refused to look back at him, or give out any recognition.
The soldier pushed Naruto in front of him, so forcefully he
stumbled again and almost collided with Sasuke’s shoulder. He stepped aside,
careful to show disgust, and glared at the soldier for daring to make an
officer almost touch the prisoner. He ignored Naruto, who gasped in what had to
be pain.
Sasuke lead the way out, up the stairs and the soldier half-dragged
– half-pushed Naruto to follow him, efficiently leaving the control to Sasuke.
Once they had climbed up the stairs and entered the hall on the ground floor,
something eased in his stomach, but it was still too early.
Several soldiers with light machine guns were standing
behind the warrant officer, who had his personal pistol pointed at Sasuke’s
chest. Damn.
Ignoring the need to cringe and assure them he was not an
impostor, Sasuke steeled his voice and demanded to know exactly what was going
on. It turned out that when they checked out the name and ranking over the
radio, they received information that the officer in question was dead.
Naruto edged up to him, with an obvious intention to place
himself between Sasuke and the soldiers. What
a fucking hero, Sasuke thought fondly and shoved him forcefully on the side.
The surprised yelp and a loud bang announced when Naruto slammed into the wall.
Winter 1943/44
They had only enough
time to exchange a few words before Naruto practically lost conscious, only a
couple of seconds after he placed his still dirty head on Sasuke’s shoulder.
Sasuke managed to find out, because he finally remembered to ask, that Sakura
was okay as well. A tiny pang of guilt almost made him get out from the not
very comfortable but warm bedding to go and see for himself. Naruto was holding
onto him tightly and that simple fact was more than enough to stop Sasuke from
even trying.
The morning was just as rainy as the previous
night had been. The stream of rain water falling down the damaged gutter was
loud and the ceiling had lifeless patterns to testify to the age of the house
they were in, but Sasuke hadn’t feeling this content in his own skin since the
war had started. It was pleasant, that morning. Naruto’s soft snores lulled him into a restful
sleep.
Only a couple of hours
later, Itachi woke him up, shaking him. Even half asleep, Sasuke knew they had
to move out of the house soon, so he turned to wake up a still sleeping Naruto,
but Itachi stopped him.
“One of the main branches
in the capital has problems with a code that looks very similar to the one you cracked
last month,” Itachi said quietly, considerate to a sleeping Naruto. “And they
have no one to deal with it at the moment. You’re going on a trip.”
He hadn’t waited for
an answer, not that Sasuke had something to say. He looked at Naruto once
again, flushed and breathing deeply in his sleep and wondered for a second what
had stopped them from doing this long ago. It was dangerous, and it would hurt
a lot if Naruto died, yes, but it would hurt a lot no matter how close they
were physically. Right then, it seemed worth any complication, any set of problems
that could come from it.
He had to go, so he
managed to untangle himself from underneath Naruto’s arm. The shirt he wore yesterday
had large stains where Naruto had brushed up against it, and Sasuke had to find
another one.
“Where’re you going?” Naruto’s
sleepy, hoarse voice made him look up from where he was digging through his
bag.
“The capital,” he
answered shortly.
Naruto sat up on the
mattress. “Now?”
“Yeah, I think so. Are
you going to sleep some more?”
Naruto looked torn,
and then gave a little shake of his head. But Sasuke knew he was still tired –
hell, Sasuke, himself, was still tired, and he hadn’t been crouching in the
sewers the entire night after being shot at – so he moved back, kneeling on the
bed.
“You should, you will
be moving later.” Naruto grinned; he looked even more exhausted up close, with
his eyes red and swollen, and a drained quality to his smile. But that had no
consequences on his speed and agility; Naruto moved forward and grabbed
Sasuke’s shoulders, and in the next second, Sasuke was facing the ceiling
again.
“We,” he whispered,
nuzzling Sasuke’s neck under the ear, “have to talk about what happened.”
Sasuke disagreed on
that. There was nothing to talk about; everything was fine, irrefutably fine. So it would be really
nice if they could manage not to ruin it with some pointless fight. But
Naruto’s lips were split and hot when he left a little kiss on the sensitive skin
of his earlobe, a kiss that surely left a scorching mark.
“I have to go,” Sasuke
somehow managed; his words barely more than gasps when Naruto’s tongue soothed
the burn.
“So you said,” Naruto
answered, not at all concerned. He propped himself up on his hands and looked
down. His eyes were dark blue, like the sky on a cloudy day, but clear and
serious, and focused on Sasuke’s face, on the reaction he wanted to see. “I’m
not letting you go, you know. And you know I don’t like sharing, so make peace
with having only one sexual partner from now on at that field trip you have to go
on.”
“Field
trip?” Sasuke asked, because
everything else Naruto had just said was a waste of words. Like last night
could compare with anything, with anyone else; like Naruto’s vividness and
warmth could be replaced – like there was any chance at all that Sasuke would
let Naruto go now. “It’s a mission. An important mission.”
Naruto lowered himself
until he was so close, the words felt like they caressed his very skin, “Some
sun will do you good.”
Sasuke meant to
explain the concept of winter and the causes for the lack of the sun during
that particular season, but Naruto kissed him then, heartbreakingly slow and
wet, so he forgot.
Itachi had to come
back for him, which made Sasuke feel a bit embarrassed but he wanted to smirk a
lot as well. Naruto grinned again, and slid off him back under the covers,
where it was probably still warm and comfortable. He closed his eyes as soon as
his head landed on the pillow, so Sasuke got up, found his shirt and finally got
out of the room. Itachi was glaring at him, which was funny.
The ‘field trip’
lasted for a week, and when Sasuke finally entered the town again, anxious to
tell Itachi about the things he had seen and eager to see Naruto again, the
welcoming team took him to an unfamiliar place, all very quiet along the way.
Sasuke asked no questions.
What welcomed him was a
fight. The voices died away as soon as he stepped over the threshold, so Sasuke
began to get a really, really bad feeling about it.
“What happened?” He
asked the silent room, and looked around for Naruto.
Before he managed to
scan the ten or so people that were in the room, from a doorway that presumably
led to some other room in the house Sakura entered running right to him, and
hung herself about his neck like he was supposed to save her from drowning.
“Naruto,” she said,
and Sasuke realized from the wet, thick voice that she had been crying. “He was
caught, they have him. . .”
The rest of what she
said came across as a strangled sob, and Sasuke had to fight not to push her
away. Naruto and Sakura were pretty close, she had the right to be upset, to
search for comfort, because Naruto being caught meant Naruto will be dead soon,
after days of extracting information with the help of some imaginative torture
and cruel beatings.
Instead of reacting
physically, Sasuke found the eyes of his brother on the other side of the room.
“So what are you
planning to do about it?” he asked.
Itachi, the cold
bastard that he was, hadn’t moved a muscle when he answered. “There is nothing
we can do. They are keeping him in the headquarters outside of town; the place
is full of soldiers.”
Itachi was being
reasonable about this. He was being calm and collected and reasonable.
“Itachi,” Sasuke said,
and there was something in his voice this time that made Sakura let go as if
she’d been burned. “If you won’t do anything, I will.”
“There is nothing you
can do,” Itachi answered flatly.
The room was dead
silent, so Sasuke could hear his blood boiling from the need to turn around,
leave, and save Naruto right away. He took a deep, deep breath. Preparation was
the key to a successful mission. Research was crucial. He had to make a plan.
First, he had to find
out as much as he could.
So Sasuke asked
questions. Naruto had been captured early in the morning on the previous day
when he turned back to help a team member that was caught up in some barb wire.
‘It figures. That fucking idiot.’ The rescued man said
that the officer in charge knew Naruto’s name and his connection to Itachi,
which was both good and bad; good because they were more likely to keep him
alive longer, in the hope that Naruto would give them information about the
resistance, and bad because of the way the information was invariably
extracted.
Sources connected to the
Gestapo claimed the more important prisoners were in the new military HQ, a
freshly renovated house on the edge of town. A single look at the old archive
photo was enough to trigger Sasuke’s memory. It was the house Naruto and Sasuke
had stumbled upon one summer when they were kids, and made it their playground
for that entire year. He knew it like he knew the back of his hand.
The plan began to form
in his head. Sakura found him a uniform. Both she and Kiba insisted on coming
until they realized that nothing fit them well enough. Sasuke was a little relieved.
He was better off working alone.
Itachi had tried to
stop him. He never even managed to make Sasuke think about it, and it made him
angry, so angry that he raised his voice at his little brother. Sasuke pulled
his uniformed arm out of Itachi’s grip and walked to where Kiba had parked the
car without regrets, but, unfortunately with just a hint fear.
February, 1944
Taking a clean, white handkerchief out of the pocket of his
uniform pants, Sasuke carefully wiped out the palm of his right hand, the one
he’d used to push Naruto.
As he hoped, his annoyance and complete lack of fear
confused the soldiers. Even the warrant officer lowered his weapon, frowning. Sasuke,
ignoring the soldier behind him like he expected nothing less but for the man
to follow, lead the prisoner out and simply continued to walk toward the exit.
The warrant officer got over the confusion soon enough, though. He once again
blocked Sasuke’s exit with his own body.
Taking one last chance, Sasuke used the back of his hand to
hit him so hard, the man’s glasses broke and he barely managed to keep his
balance. Giving him one last disgusted and angry glance, Sasuke instructed him
to stop wasting his time and go back to the radio to double check the information
he’d given him, because someone had obviously made a mistake. Sasuke left to
his imagination just how they would pay for the inconvenience he was going
through.
He confidently continued through the door. No one stopped
him this time, and the soldier followed him, pushing Naruto along. Sasuke
waited, while every nerve ending in his body wanted to move, until Naruto was pushed,
head first, into the car and then saluted the soldier that was following him.
Once at the wheel, the nervous urge to step on the paddle increased
significantly, and gave into it when he saw in the mirror that the annoying
officer, sans glasses, hurrying after them at a run with a Schmeisser machine
pistol in his hands.
“You,” Naruto said quietly from the back seat, “are the
coldest bastard I’ve ever seen in my life.”
The car roared into the turn just before the gate as a smug
and appropriate answer, and Sasuke felt oddly flattered. Even as the gate was
closing, because German soldiers were so damn efficient, they were speeding up.
“Can’t you bend your head or something?” Naruto yelled, startling
him a little, somewhat muffled but still loud enough for Sasuke to wonder why
he was making so much noise.
He blinked against the flickering, yellowish light that
reflected in the mirror. For a second, his mind simply refused to make a
connection, but then it clicked so he lowered his head as much as he could
without taking his eyes off the road.
The gate was half closed when the car blew out through it,
heavily scraping the left side, but barely losing any speed.
They were out.
“That’s a good boy,” Naruto said, much too dryly for someone
in his position. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you bent your spine.” Sasuke
was not insulted. It was rather stupid of him not to realize right away they
were being shot at.
As soon as they managed to eek out some distance between
them and the soldiers, Sasuke turned in his seat. The back seat was empty, and
for one horrible moment he thought Naruto had somehow managed to drop out of
the car. A movement managed to catch his eye, luckily before he hit the breaks; Naruto was on the floor, trying to rise
without using his arms.
“You alright there?” Sasuke asked.
The only answer he got was some colorful swearing, so Sasuke
decided Naruto was probably just under some stress, but not seriously hurt. He
couldn’t help but check again, this time in the mirror. Naruto’s gaze, bright
from the anger, met his.
“I’ll kill you,” Naruto promised solemnly. “And I’ll kill
your brother, too. What the fuck did you think you were doing? You could have
died! It’s a miracle you didn’t!”
“You’re welcome.” Sasuke answered, forcing himself to tear
his eyes away from the mirrored reflection. “Itachi had nothing to do with it,
the plan was mine.”
Naruto shifted in well of the backseat. “I know that. This
was insane; of course it came from you.”
“It worked,”
Sasuke pointed out. Naruto shifted again instead of answering, so Sasuke
glanced back to see what was he doing.
“Spoken too early,” Naruto announced, while glancing at
something just visible through the back window. “They are following us. Where
is your reinforcement?”
Sasuke didn’t answer, just pushed the pedal harder, until it
hit the floor again. Naruto informed him after a short, uncomfortable silence
that he could see at least two cars and that Sasuke should hurry, drive faster or at least untie him. Sasuke considered
himself capable of multitasking, even on a bad day, but now he only glared and
wished Naruto had been gagged as well when he had found him in that cell.
The car weirdly vibrated for a second. Confused, Sasuke
looked into the mirror again – maybe he ran over something? But the expansive
flame behind the car blinded him as Naruto yelped, “Bomb! Someone threw a bomb
at them!”
So Itachi sent someone after all. While he was listening to Naruto happily
informing him about another bomb and catching the staccato pitch of gunfire,
something heavy and painful broke out of Sasuke’s chest. Naruto was going to be
fine. Itachi hadn’t left him alone. This war hadn’t managed to take all of what
was good in his life just yet.
He almost felt like smiling, out of the sheer relief.
Once they were miles and miles away, on a back road somewhere
in the woods, Sasuke finally managed to force himself to stop the car. Not
wanting to get out just yet, Sasuke crossed over from the front to the back
seat, where Naruto was.
“Let me untie you,” he said, feeling ridiculous when his
voice broke. It was all over, why was he reacting now?
Naruto faced him completely for a moment, barely visible in
the dark, but Sasuke knew every inch, every curve of that face. He had no need
for the moonlight sneaking through the branches above the car. Sasuke wanted to
touch him, to grab him and not let go. In fact, that was exactly what he would
do, as soon as he cut those ropes.
After several seconds, Naruto turned. Sasuke managed to
untie him without using a knife, because that would be dangerous in such darkness.
As soon as Naruto wringed his wrists out of the ropes, he turned and leaned
over Sasuke; leaned into him.
“You complete, insane, total asshole,” he whispered, encircling his surely pain-filled arms
around Sasuke’s waist and burying his face into Sasuke’s neck. “What were you doing?
You could have died!”
Sasuke didn’t want to tell him he was as good dead himself before
Sasuke had come back for him. Naruto knew the risks, but that had never before
stopped the cruelty of words from hurting him. Sasuke didn’t want Naruto to
know just how desperate he was at the very thought of losing him. He didn’t
want to talk at all, in case some of that slipped through the blossoming gap in
his control. So he wrapped Naruto in his arms and pulled him to lean even
heavier on his shoulders, until Sasuke felt he was comfortably nestled between
the leather seat and Naruto’s comfortable weight.
“You’re shaking,” Naruto pointed out needlessly and kissed
him. At some point, before they pulled apart after many long moments huddled
close together, the shaking had stopped and some of the tension in Sasuke’s
back had eased.
He decided that the back seat of the car, even if Naruto
decided not to move an inch, was not a bad option at all for spending the
night. Itachi deserved some worry, and both Naruto and he deserved some rest
before jumping right back into the fight. So, with a contented sigh, Sasuke
allowed the comfort of Naruto’s arms and the cool night to lull him to sleep.
Ende
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