Chapter Text
This beautifull artwork, is the work of Aleksandracoffan. Here is her link on Tumblr, https://www.tumblr.com/aleksandracoffan?source=share
The train whistled loudly and stopped with a metallic sigh. Naruto didn't move immediately. He stared out of the dusty window at the countryside that had seen him grow up, but which now seemed foreign to him. It was as if he had left the boy he once was behind in the muddy trenches alongside hundreds of dead bodies. He placed one calloused hand on the crutch leaning against the bench and the other on his prosthetic leg, which creaked with every step. He took a deep breath before standing up.
The platform was deserted; the wind blew away the dust, and with it, the fragments of a past he would have liked to forget. There was no one there to greet him — and that was just as well. He couldn't bear the pitying looks. He preferred silence, even if it felt as heavy as a coffin.
The road to the farm of his best friends, the Uchihas, seemed endless. Every step was a struggle; every memory a blow to the heart. He could remember Sasuke's laughter, the taste of the apples they had stolen from the neighbouring orchard. He could also remember the barn where they had taken shelter from many storms. All his memories came back to him in waves. He wanted to turn around and go back, but he lacked the strength, both physical and emotional, and above all, this was the only place he could call home.
The country house finally appeared around the bend in the path. It hadn't changed at all; it was still whitewashed by the sun and perhaps a little more worn, but it was still standing.
Naruto stopped in front of the wooden fence, his heart beating rapidly. He wiped sweat from his forehead, unable to bring himself to take the last few steps. What if Sasuke saw him as a burden? A broken man who was worn out and useless for farm work?
Naruto took a deep breath and looked up. Sasuke had just appeared in the distance. The years had not changed anything from his straight posture or his dark eyes. But his features looked harder, more serious now. The war had changed them both.
The sun was setting slowly behind the hills, bathing the fields in a golden glow. A light breeze rustled the tall grass and Sasuke's horse's black mane floated in the warm late-afternoon air. Sasuke rode slowly along the dirt road, lost in thought.
The harvest had been favorable this year, but he no longer felt a connection to the land as he once had. Silence had grown heavier since Naruto's departure. Every day, he hoped for his return; every day, he told himself that this was perhaps a form of cowardice. He gently pressed his horse's flanks to move it forward along the road.
Then, around the bend in the path and amid the tall grass and wooden fences, he spotted a figure. At first, it was shaky, almost a mirage in the evening light, but then it became real. The figure was walking with crutches and was dressed in an oversized coat that hung loosely from their thin shoulders.
Finally, he could make out a face ravaged by exhaustion and hollowed out. But it was the eyes that really shocked him; it was the flame he had always seen burning in Naruto's eyes was absent. Now there was just a pale glimmer of fatigue, pain and shame.
Sasuke didn't need to think about it. He urged his horse into a gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust on the trail. The wind whipped his face, but all he could feel was the urgency of the suffering body approaching him.
When the horse stopped a few metres from Naruto, Sasuke leapt onto the ground without thinking. He saw the trembling crutch in Naruto's hand. The blonde seemed to hesitate, as if he were thinking of turning on his heel and fleeing his gaze.
But Sasuke didn't give him the chance. He caught up with Naruto in three strides and, before a word was spoken, wrapped his arms tightly around his best friend. Sasuke's stomach tightened as he embraced Naruto's thin, bony chest. The farmer rested his forehead against Naruto's prominent collarbone and the body war had not spared. The coat's fabric was rough and dusty. Naruto no longer smelled of the earth, warm sweat, and life as he had before. Now he smelled of gunpowder, hospitals, and fear. His heart was beating too fast, as if unsure whether to carry on or give up.
“You...” Naruto whispered, his voice broken and raspy.
But Sasuke didn't let him finish, tightening his embrace and resting one hand on the trembling neck of his friend — this man who had returned from hell.
"Don't say anything, Naruto. You're back, and that's all that matters."
Naruto tensed up slightly, then, as if his last defences had given way, he suddenly fell into Sasuke's arms. His crutches fell with a loud thud onto the hard ground. He clung to Sasuke's shirt so tightly that his fingers trembled. He sobbed silently, hot tears streaming down his face.
Sasuke felt his own heart crack. He had imagined this moment of reunion a thousand times. But never like this; never with eyes that had once been full of life, but were now empty. And what about Naruto's body? Once muscular from arduous farm work, it was now emaciated and missing a leg. His soul was in ruins, too.
Sasuke would have given anything to reverse their roles, to be in Naruto's place in the trenches of war and never have to see him like this.
The important thing, however, was that he was back and alive.
Sasuke silently vowed to do everything he could to rekindle the spark in Naruto's eyes, bring back his laughter and ensure that one day Naruto could touch the ground and experience something other than pain.
Sasuke then lifted Naruto carefully, as if he were lifting a feverish child or a wounded bird. He slowly laid him on his black mare, Yuki. She was surprisingly calm, as if she sensed that her rider was carrying an emotional burden as well as a physical one.
Sasuke held the reins tightly and walked silently alongside them slowly. Twilight enveloped the fields in soft, almost unreal light. The long stalks of wheat swayed in the warm breeze and the wind rustled softly through the old poplar trees that lined the path.
In the distance, a red, peeling barn stood flanked by a large shed where tools were neatly stored. Finally, the house roof came into view behind a curtain of willow trees. It was a large wooden building that had once been painted white but had faded from sun, wind and time.
Sasuke glanced quickly at Naruto, feeling his heart sink. The blonde was trying to stand straight, his hand clutching the mare's mane with barely any force. The skin on his face, once golden from sun exposure, was now pale, almost grey. A pink scar ran across his right cheek and his eyes — damn, his eyes — were devoid of that fiery glow he had loved so much.
He was so thin that Sasuke feared his body would shatter into a thousand pieces if he fell. Suddenly, the weight of his shame crushed him. Sasuke hadn't been to war; he hadn't seen the trenches or heard bombs whistling overhead. He had ploughed, sown and harvested. He had stayed on the farm because Itachi, after falling from a horse, was now confined to a wheelchair. Their parents were dead, and someone had to keep the land productive. So he stayed, and Naruto left.
By the time they reached the front steps, the sky had turned indigo and the first stars were peeking through the frayed clouds.
Yuki stopped, and then Sasuke approached, raising his arms to help Naruto slide down from the horse. However, just as Naruto's feet touched the ground, his poorly secured prosthesis came loose and fell with a metallic clang, echoing against the porch steps.
Sasuke immediately bent down to pick it up, his heart pounding, but a dull voice stopped him.
"Leave it there. Better yet, throw it away."
Naruto's tone was flat and devoid of the emotion that once resonated with a thousand feelings; now it sounded lifeless.
Sasuke didn't answer, but he left the prosthesis on the steps. He didn't intend to throw it away, but he didn't want to force Naruto either. Instead, he slipped an arm under Naruto's shoulders and helped him take the few steps to the door.
Naruto took a deep breath. The house interior still smelled of aged wood, warm bread and cold ashes. The kitchen was as big and bright as he remembered it, bathed in an amber glow from the oil lamps. The large pine table still bore the traces of the day: a bowl of apples, a pitcher of water and a few crumbs of dried bread.
Itachi was sitting at the table, slowly and carefully cutting vegetables. His chair rolled back gently when the door opened and he looked up, freezing when he saw Naruto.
The knife in his hand stopped dead and his gaze was fixed on Naruto for a moment. Itachi's eyes darkened like a stormy sky. Naruto tried to smile at him, but his smile was so forced that it was more painful than tears.
The silence was deafening.
Then, in a calm voice, Itachi spoke. He talked about the land, the favourable seasons, the seasonal workers they hired and the expanded greenhouse. His words were intended to fill the void and build a bridge over the silent chasm into which Naruto seemed to have fallen after being helped to sit down at the table.
Then Sasuke took over, talking about the two horses he was collecting the following week. He also talked about his plans to add a few dairy cows. Naruto nodded and smiled, but it was a painful sight, like a cracked mask on an exhausted face.
Then, in an almost inaudible whisper, the blonde asked.
"Can I sleep in my old room?"
Sasuke stood up immediately.
"Of course."
He helped Naruto up the stairs, slipping one arm under his shoulders and placing his other hand on the railing to steady himself. Naruto was so light that he weighed no more than a young teenager. Sasuke noticed that each step was difficult for him, but he didn't complain. He climbed each step in silence, his lips pressed tightly together and beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
The room that Naruto had used countless times in his youth was simple and clean. It contained a rough wooden chest of drawers, a bed with a woven blanket and a small window overlooking the field. The scent of dried lavender still lingers in the air.
With his friend's help, Naruto clumsily jumped toward the bed, and Sasuke pulled back the covers. Naruto let himself fall onto the bed like a stone without waiting, his body disappearing under the sheets before Sasuke could say anything.
Sasuke stood there for a moment, looking at his friend. He was torn between the desire to stay by his side and the need to bring in the goats and chickens. The horses could spend the night outside.
Reaching out, he gently touched Naruto's face, his eyelashes resting on his hollow cheeks.
His breathing was short but peaceful. Sasuke hesitated, then whispered, his throat tightening.
"Oh, my God, Naruto... What have they done to you?"
He placed a chaste kiss on Naruto's damp forehead, then left the room, leaving the door ajar. His heart aching, he walked downstairs.
Several hours had passed since nightfall, and the Uchiha house slept in the fragile calm of the remote countryside. Only the distant chirping of crickets and the faint crackling of wood expanding in the cold night air broke the silence. Sasuke had been to bed late, his heart feeling full and his body drained of energy.
He tossed and turned in bed for a long time, his mind racing, before restless sleep finally overtook him. Then a sharp, sudden noise jolted him out of his slumber. It was the sound of a body falling, followed by a scream from Naruto's room.
It wasn't an ordinary cry of pain; it was something deeper and more visceral. It was a scream torn from the depths of horror, so heart-wrenching that Sasuke's heart missed a beat.
He jumped out of bed, landing his bare feet on the cold floor, and crossed the hallway in seconds. Naruto's bedroom door was still ajar and when he pushed it open, what he saw froze him in his tracks.
Naruto had fallen out of bed and was tangled up in the covers like a trapped animal. His body was twisted in every direction, shaking in spasms, and his arms flailed in a desperate frenzy. His face was covered in sweat and contorted with unspeakable terror. His eyes were wide open, but he couldn't see; he didn't realise he was back home. He wasn't in that room or the house. He was somewhere else.
"Let me go!" Naruto screamed.
His voice was hoarse and raspy with panic. He kept screaming and thrashing around, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Naruto's body shook, racked by an invisible fever. His legs buckled beneath him and he continued to strike out, scratch and push away at invisible enemies. He screamed until Sasuke felt his throat tighten.
Sasuke approached slowly, his hands raised in appeasement.
"Naruto, it's me, Sasuke. You're safe; you're home."
But just as he gently rested his hand on his friend's sweaty shoulder, Naruto spun around abruptly, as if sensing a threat. His fist shot out, striking Sasuke squarely in the face. There was a wet crack, and pain exploded in Sasuke's head, followed by a warm spray that covered his nose and lips. Surprised by the force of the blow, he staggered backwards before collapsing heavily to the ground, his buttocks hitting the floor with a thud.
He brought his hand to his face and found it covered in blood, but that didn't matter right now. Sasuke turned his gaze to Naruto, who was still lying on the ground in a trance. He was punching the air and muttering incomprehensible words.
Suddenly, he screamed again. To Sasuke, it felt like a foreign force was possessing his friend's body.
Sasuke slowly stood up, feeling groggy and with blood streaming down his face. He could feel that his nose was broken, but that was nothing compared to what he could see in front of him.
Naruto was fighting invisible enemies. Sasuke stepped forward again, slower this time.
He crouched down in front of Naruto and waited for a moment of weakness. When the moment came, he grabbed Naruto's wrists — it was like trying to tame a wild beast. Naruto struggled, growled and screamed. He was stronger than Sasuke had imagined, but as everyone knows, despair gives you monstrous strength.
“Naruto... Naruto... It's over, Naruto. You're back; you're here with me. It's over."
Sasuke repeated these words over and over again, his voice soft and low, as he gently rocked Naruto's body, which was shaking with convulsions.
Gradually, the blonde calmed down and stopped howling. His breathing became more regular, although he continued to sob. He wasn't fully awake yet, but he was no longer trapped in his nightmare. He was simply somewhere between two worlds.
Sasuke gently released his friend's wrists and began to untangle the sheets that had wrapped around him. He slid an arm under Naruto's shoulders and knees before lifting him gently. Naruto's body was drenched in sweat and burning with fever. A rancid smell emanated from him, mingling with dust and metal odours. His skin stuck to his clothes.
But that wasn't what made Sasuke's throat tighten. In the dim light illuminated by the moon, he saw marks under his shirt. Many old scars, twisted and rough. And he saw more recent ones that were still pink. Some were as thin as razor blades; others were as thick as rope.
They were everywhere he looked: on his chest, sides and stomach.
A shiver ran down his spine and he pulled the sheets back over Naruto, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to scream; he wanted to kill the hands that had left those marks and punch through the air until the pain faded away.
But he covered Naruto and smoothed the sheets over his trembling body.
Sasuke had to stay strong for Naruto. He would help him heal. He decided to send for the village doctor first thing in the morning. Naruto needed to be examined and treated. He needed more than silence and warm bread.
Sasuke stood over Naruto for a moment before reluctantly getting up. Before leaving the room, he glanced back at the bed. If his friend's nightmares returned — and he knew they would — he would offer to share his room. It was important to Sasuke that Naruto knew he wasn't alone, just like when they were kids.
Sasuke sat on the edge of his bed, unable to sleep. His nose was throbbing with pain and he could still taste blood on his lips, but he paid little attention to either. What haunted him were Naruto's screams and vacant stare. Blows that weren't aimed at him, but at whatever Naruto could still see in the shadows. As he got up to leave the room, the floorboards creaked softly beneath his feet.
In the darkness, he heard Itachi's low, tired yet alert voice calling him from the bottom of the stairs.
"Sasuke?"
He sighed softly, then crept down the stairs, his face still smeared with dried blood and his temples throbbing. When he reached the bottom, he walked towards his brother's room, where faint light was filtering through the half-opened door.
Itachi was sitting in his chair, half-covered by a woollen shawl, and his features were drawn with worry. He stared at Sasuke, his dark gaze immediately settling on his bruised face.
“What happened?”
Sasuke hesitated for a moment, then shrugged wearily.
Leaning against the doorframe, he crossed his arms, trying to hide the trembling of his hands.
"Naruto had a nightmare," he replied in a hoarse voice. "He fell out of bed... and thought he was still there. He didn't recognise me and hit me. It's not his fault.”
Itachi didn't answer right away; his gaze was lost in the distance for a moment. Then he whispered.
"You should have woken me up."
“What for? You can't climb stairs; you can't..."
Sasuke cut himself off, not wanting to lose his temper with his brother, who knew his limitations. Itachi pursed his lips slightly, then continued.
"I mean, you don't have to carry all this alone."
There was a moment of silence between them, heavy with things they couldn't say. Sasuke looked down.
"He's so thin," he said finally, his voice muffled. "And he's covered in sweat and dirt. His body is covered with scars. He has old and new ones."
Itachi gripped the armrests of his chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"We need to get the doctor."
"Yes, I'll leave for the village at dawn tomorrow morning. I don't want him to walk any further than necessary.”
Itachi nodded slowly, then looked at his little brother for a long time.
"You won’t sleep tonight, will you?"
Sasuke shook his head.
“No.”
"If you want, push my chair over to the window and we can look at the stars. Like when we were kids and you had a nightmare.”
Sasuke smiled slightly, almost absent-mindedly, before stepping forward, taking hold of the wheelchair's handles and rolling it over to the large living room window that overlooked the fields beyond the garden, where the peaceful silhouettes of horses could still be seen in the pale moonlight.
Itachi raised his hand and touched Sasuke's sleeve. When he spoke, his voice was soft, deep and low like an old song.
“He's back, Sasuke. But he's not fully recovered, and it will take him a long time.”
“I know. But he's back, and that's what matters."
There was a long silence. Outside, an owl hooted softly and the wooden house creaked. Sasuke stood there next to Itachi, the image of Naruto trembling and screaming into the void replaying over and over in his mind.
Each time, he clenched his teeth harder. Sasuke would not let his friend break down. Not here, not under this roof.