The desire to believe her is overwhelming, in his present state where paranoia and discontent has washed out to a disorienting guilelessness. The woman before him is calm, certain, her words as lyrical as a song whose origin he can't place, flowing over him like cool water. Even her features seem ethereal; she must be a trick of his mind. If that is the case, perhaps he is dreaming and none of this matters.
Sasuke lifts the cup and swallows the putrid contents. It tastes as she said — like rot, like foul dirt, worse than anything he's consumed since his time with Orochimaru and Kabuto. He doesn't throw it back up, which is a testament to the strength of his own will. He can endure this much, mild in comparison to other tests he has put himself through.
And the world changes. Beauty, as she promised: to him this is the endless forests of Fire Country, wilderness on all sides, a warm sun on his skin and nights with clear bright moons. The world is beautiful, because he is with his family again. The simplest bliss of a child sitting down to dinner with two parents and an older brother. Chasing this brother out to the training field on the compound property. Being tucked into bed and kissed by his mother. A hand on the shoulder and a proud smile from his father. Then — as if a rock skimming the surface of a lake, skipping over the jagged trauma that comes between — his time in the Academy with his genin team. The pleasure of a meal with his teammates and sensei after a successful mission. The exhaustion after training all day, pushing his limits beside his best friend. The thrill of getting stronger. The gentler moments of companionship and trust sheltered between all four of them.
He stands there only for a few minutes, consumed in the onslaught of good memories, but it feels much longer. The cup drops out of his hand and rolls on the grass. He realizes it too late, but there are hot tears on his cheeks, dripping off his chin; he doesn't know when that happened. As the celebration of Mirth begins to refocus, Sasuke turns himself away, avoiding the woman's eyes.
sorry for this angst
Sasuke lifts the cup and swallows the putrid contents. It tastes as she said — like rot, like foul dirt, worse than anything he's consumed since his time with Orochimaru and Kabuto. He doesn't throw it back up, which is a testament to the strength of his own will. He can endure this much, mild in comparison to other tests he has put himself through.
And the world changes. Beauty, as she promised: to him this is the endless forests of Fire Country, wilderness on all sides, a warm sun on his skin and nights with clear bright moons. The world is beautiful, because he is with his family again. The simplest bliss of a child sitting down to dinner with two parents and an older brother. Chasing this brother out to the training field on the compound property. Being tucked into bed and kissed by his mother. A hand on the shoulder and a proud smile from his father. Then — as if a rock skimming the surface of a lake, skipping over the jagged trauma that comes between — his time in the Academy with his genin team. The pleasure of a meal with his teammates and sensei after a successful mission. The exhaustion after training all day, pushing his limits beside his best friend. The thrill of getting stronger. The gentler moments of companionship and trust sheltered between all four of them.
He stands there only for a few minutes, consumed in the onslaught of good memories, but it feels much longer. The cup drops out of his hand and rolls on the grass. He realizes it too late, but there are hot tears on his cheeks, dripping off his chin; he doesn't know when that happened. As the celebration of Mirth begins to refocus, Sasuke turns himself away, avoiding the woman's eyes.