Convergence: A Sasuke Fanfiction

KONOHA

Shikamaru gently bit into the piece of barbeque hanging from his chopsticks. The succulent slice of meat oozed a smattering of oil that glossed his lips. It was tasty as one would expect from a meal prepared by Konoha’s very own Yakiniku Q’s barbeque saloon. Yet, despite this, the Nara scion chewed on it in a visibly absent-minded manner, his attention staunchly fixed on the shinobi seated across from him. Sasuke, as usual, conversed easily with the rest of their group with all the charm and charisma he had, over the years, become renowned for.

Sakura and Ino, the twin airheads currently wounded tightly around the Uchiha’s dainty fingers, giggled at a joke made at Kiba’s expense; the Inuzuka boy growled a threat in response only to suffer even more ridicule. Sasuke was being playful, in that annoying, haughty manner he was so fond of. Naruto, in an uncommon show of solidarity, came to Kiba’s aid but quickly came under fire as the Uchiha’s attention turned to focus on him. Hinata blushed as the blonde exploded in outrage, challenging his teammate to a duel. At that, even the usually introverted girl spoke up to dissuade the fool from persisting in his ludicrous demands for battle against the Chūnin who earned himself the moniker “Evil Flame” even before graduating from the academy.

Shikamaru turned his attention to the only two members of this gathering who were not currently snagged in Sasuke’s orbit. Shino stared at the group in silence, calm and collected as he always was, his thoughts unknown. Choji on the other hand was too carried away scarfing down the barbeque to realise what was going on in front of him.

Shikamaru shuddered as the memory of his run-in with the Uchiha during the exams flashed through his mind. His teammates might have forgotten, the feeling of depression from losing the other castle to the subsequent elation they felt at Sasuke’s attempts to lift their spirits dulling their memory of the incident. But he didn’t. Rather, he couldn’t. Shikamaru could still hardly believe Ino had it in her to sit directly beside the monster after how close they had all come to losing their lives at his hands.

Whenever Shikamaru peered at the taller boy, he felt as if he could somewhat see past the illusion. Behind those bright, lively Onyx eyes was a deadly calm, totally blank, and unreadable. Shikaku once mentioned that their Nara clan’s attunement with Yin nature granted them some intuitive insight into the metaphysical. Never once had Shikamaru doubted his father’s claim; neither did he plan to begin doing so any time soon. He could feel it. The monster behind those eyes. Something pretending to be human. If one stared at the Uchiha long enough they would begin to see it too; motion fluid in a manner normal humans—skilled shinobi included—would find impossible to achieve, yet unnaturally still when calm. Like a great summit. Unmoveable.

Impervious.

“Shikamaru?” the monster called. “What’s wrong? You are not hungry?”

Shikamaru almost made the mistake of making eye contact, averting his gaze to stare out the window at the last moment. “Thank you,” he replied, forcing the delicious morsel down his throat. “I might be feeling a bit under the weather today.”

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Ino scolded, a smudge of concern peeking past beneath her annoyance. Shikamaru turned to face her, his expression softening as she pouted at him. His gaze wandered. Despite her best effort to hide it, he noticed the girl leaning deeply into the embrace monster beside her, seemingly completely unconcerned for her safety. For a moment Shikamaru wondered to himself if the girl possessed any survival instincts at all. Then he remembered who it was she was leaning against and his expression hardened immediately.

There was no way the lovesick fool would realise what danger she was in. After all, he had seen how easily the Uchiha manipulated her and toyed with her emotions. It was a fool’s errand to expect anything else from the girl.

Alas, habit was a two-timing mistress. Shikamaru looked up, and by some stroke of bad luck, his gaze met Sasuke’s. Instantly, he dragged his gaze back to the open window by his side, pretending to be distracted by the activity outside. But it was too late. The monster’s crimson, soul-piercing gaze lingered on the fringes of his memory, pressing against his mind like an excluded ghost, shrouding it in a haze of confusion and uncertainty.

Slowly, Shikamaru felt his suspicions towards the Uchiha wane. He could feel it seeping out of him, like oil through a grain sieve. He clawed at it to return to no avail … Then he blinked, suddenly feeling much better than he had in weeks; as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. A persistent thought nagged at the back of his mind but he could not, for the life of him, remember what it was.

Well, whatever it was, if he had forgotten it so easily, it must have not been important. Likely some chore his mother had nagged him to complete but remains untouched. Lazily, he dismissed the whisperings entirely. With a relaxed exhale, he turned his attention back to the barbeque in front of him.

How nice of Sasuke to invite them for lunch. Shikamaru thought. Even though the Uchiha could be a pain to deal with sometimes, he really should try to be nicer to the guy. At least for Ino’s sake if nothing else…

***

Konoha Hospital.

Gaara gasped as he awoke.

Instinctively, he called on his sand and the mass of silica rushed forth to encase his prone form. It hurt. Everywhere. What happened, Gaara wondered to himself, his brain struggling to recollect. Then it did and a feeling of bone-deep loathing arose in his heart.

“I will kill him,” the Suna-nin croaked.

“Ha, you are finally awake,” came a voice beside him. “Glad to see you are feeling better.”

Gaara willed the sand to prop his body up. His gaze squinted balefully as he regarded the four that occupied the room with him. His attention panned, ignoring Baki and the rest of his squad to focus on the fellow who had just spoken. A Konoha-nin with onyx eyes and ash-grey hair worn in a ponytail. He looked generic enough if one ignored the black-rimmed circular glasses propped on the bridge of his nose.

“Where is he?” Gaara growled.

“I assume you are asking about Uchiha-san?” the unnamed Konoha-nin replied. “He and the rest of his team left a week ago on a B-rank mission to the Land of the Waves. It’s classified, of course, but since we are all allies I figured it shouldn’t hurt to keep you in the loop.”

Gaara’s mind spun as he digested the response. “...How long have I been unconscious?”

“Three weeks,” Baki replied, his gaze cold. “Congratulations by the way. You made Chūnin.”

“...Three weeks.” The sand Jinchūriki swallowed. His gaze finally panned downwards to regard his own body. Lengths of white bandages wrapped around the entirety of his body beneath the hospital gown he wore. Underneath, his skin was aflame with a persistent itch.

“You suffered significant injuries during your battle with Uchiha-san,” the Konoha-nin supplied helpfully. “The worst of them was the hole Sasuke drilled through your right lung and the severe burns you suffered when super-heated steam leaked past your defences. Had it been anyone else, they probably would not have survived.”

“The Kazekage visited,” Baki interjected. “He noted your failure and ordered your return to the village post-haste to restart your training. Your critical state delayed our return. Nonetheless, we will remain here until I determine you are fit enough to travel.”

Gaara remained silent even as his visitors vacated the room, the thought of his failure clouding his mind. He leaned back into the bed he sat upon feeling lost.

If not to destroy those standing in my way, what then is my purpose?

A gust of wind blew through the open window, lifting the edge of a slip of paper held down by a glass vase holding a few Chrysanthemums. The flash of white caught his attention. Absentmindedly, Gaara willed his sand to retrieve it.

I look forward to meeting you again, Sabaku-san, it read. Get well soon.

Signed, Sasuke.

The letter crumpled in Gaara’s clenched fist. His face remained calm. Placid. But in the depths of his gaze, a smouldering of bloodlust reignited; flaring. Burning brighter than ever before.

A vengeful growl escaped Gaara’s maw. I will kill you…

Uchiha Sasuke!