Unholy Love | SasuSaku

Tempers Ignite

"The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts."

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

Sasuke's POV

The first morning in the monastery was bleak. The sky was still overcast from the rain that had fallen the day before and a damp chill clung to the air. The wind roared outside, relentless and fierce, bending trees and rattling windows as if determined to sweep everything in its path. Sasuke sat at the long wooden table in the refectory, the remnants of a modest breakfast laid out before him. The room was silent except for the occasional clatter of utensils, the soft murmur of his companions and of course Naruto's casual laughter.

The soldiers from his troop ate gluttonously, their faces still etched with the fatigue of battle. Itachi sat beside him, his calm demeanor unshaken despite the recent retreat. Shisui, always the more lighthearted of the group, was joking with Naruto about some trivial matter, though even his energy seemed dampened by their current situation. Their lives hung in a precarious balance, and though the quiet of the monastery offered a brief reprieve, Sasuke couldn't shake the sense of unease that weighed heavily on him.

His gaze shifted toward the doorway of the dining hall. The young woman —Sakura, if he recalled correctly— had appeared briefly when the meal began. She had entered with the quiet grace of someone used to moving unnoticed, her head bowed, her body covered modestly by the simple robes of the nuns. But the moment her eyes met theirs, she had paused, her expression hardening into one of disdain. Without a word, she had turned and left, her long skirts swishing around her ankles as she disappeared down the corridor.

Sasuke had barely registered her departure. Something about the way she had looked at them stirred a flicker of irritation within him. That brief glance had spoken volumes —condemnation, judgment and something else he couldn't quite place.

As the breakfast wound down, Sasuke pushed his plate away and stood. He wasn't one for lingering. Though they were hidden within the monastery's walls, he couldn't allow himself to grow complacent. Their enemies were cunning and it was only a matter of time before the Senju forces regrouped.

"I'll inspect the grounds," he said quietly to Itachi and Shisui, who both looked up from their plates. Itachi gave a brief nod of acknowledgment, while Shisui smirked, knowing Sasuke's habit of constant vigilance.

Sasuke walked down the corridors of the monastery, his footsteps silent on the stone floors. The building was old, its architecture simple but sturdy. The thick walls offered protection, but the narrow hallways and unfamiliar layout made him uneasy. He needed to know the place in case they were forced to defend it.

He made his way outside briefly, circling the perimeter, noting the layout of the surrounding area —the forest that pressed up against the monastery, the steep incline of the hill they had climbed the previous day. It was a natural fortress of sorts, but even natural defenses could be breached. His mind ticked through various battle scenarios, always considering the worst possibilities.

Eventually, he found himself inside again, wandering the halls with no particular destination in mind. His senses were on high alert, absorbing every detail. It was then that he came upon the chapel, its door slightly ajar.

He paused, hand resting on the doorframe, peering inside. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering light of a few candles on the walls. Its open windows let in fierce gusts of wind and in the middle a simple altar stood. A faint smell of incense hung in the air. Sasuke had little use for places of worship. He believed in strength, in action. And yet, he stepped inside.