The Promise by the Naka River

After school, the sky turned overcast.

May in the Hidden Leaf Village had not yet reached the rainy season, but there were still one or two days now and then so stifling they made it hard to breathe. The clouds hung low, piled gray and dull above the village, as if someone had spread an old quilt across the sky.

When Shuo Ye walked out of the Ninja Academy gates, he saw Sasuke leaning against the stone wall outside.

Sasuke stood alone, both hands tucked into his pockets, his head lowered as he watched the ants on the ground. The dark blue short-sleeved shirt of the Uchiha Clan uniform looked even darker beneath the gray daylight, nearly black.

He had not left with Fugaku's guards as usual.

"Sasuke." Shuo Ye walked over.

Sasuke looked up. Something about his expression was off—not sadness, nor anger, but something Shuo Ye had seen many times: confusion. When a seven-year-old faced something completely beyond his understanding, that was the look on his face.

"Let's go," Sasuke said.

He did not explain where. But Shuo Ye knew.

The Naka River.

The two of them walked along the riverbank for a while.

The Naka River's water level was lower than last month, exposing a large stretch of bluish-gray rocks in the middle of the riverbed. The grass on both banks had grown tall, rising past their knees. Dew from the stifling afternoon clung to the blades, soaking their pant legs as they brushed through it.

Sasuke had not said a word.

That was not like Sasuke. He normally did not talk much, but he was never this silent. He would talk about the hand seal rhythm for the Great Fireball, about the taijutsu homework Iruka had assigned that day, and sometimes—though rarely—about what Itachi had taught him that day.

But today, he said nothing.

Shuo Ye did not press him either.

He knew Sasuke would speak eventually.

After walking for about ten minutes, Sasuke suddenly stopped. He stood atop the embankment, looking downstream—the stone torii of the Uchiha Clan District lay in that direction, half-hidden behind several willow trees.

"Shuo Ye."

"Yeah."

"The adults have been really strange lately."

Sasuke's voice was soft, as though squeezed out of his throat. He kept looking downstream without turning to face Shuo Ye.

"Do you know why?"

Shuo Ye's fingers tightened slightly against the seam of his pants.

He knew.

He knew everything.

He knew Clan Head Fugaku's gatherings had become increasingly frequent. He knew the ANBU's surveillance had spread from the outskirts into the clan district itself. He knew Shisui had "disappeared" a month ago—officially, he had died on a mission, but the truth was ten thousand times crueler.

He knew the string that had been stretched taut between the village and the Uchiha Clan for two years was about to snap.

And Sasuke, this seven-year-old child, could only see that the adults were "strange."

"What do you mean?" Shuo Ye asked.

He controlled his tone well—not concerned, not curious, without any slant to it. Just the casual, flat question of a seven-year-old boy.

Sasuke finally turned to look at him.

That look made Shuo Ye's chest tighten.

"Dad hasn't been home much lately. Mom cries a lot at night," Sasuke said. "When I get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, I can hear her crying in her room."

He paused.

"But she still smiles during the day. When she cooks for Itachi, when she combs my hair, she's always smiling."

Shuo Ye looked at Sasuke's face.

Seven-year-old Sasuke Uchiha. His eyelashes were long, his eyes large, gray sky and the glimmering waters of the Naka River reflected in his black pupils. His lower lip was pressed together slightly, an expression he only wore when holding something back.

"Adults' affairs are complicated," Shuo Ye said. "Don't think about it too much."

It was the standard perfunctory line adults used on children. But coming from the mouth of a seven-year-old, it had an entirely different effect. Because the one saying it was a child too—he had no standing to brush off another child with "adults' affairs."

Sasuke gave him a look.

That look made Shuo Ye's chest ache.

"Do you know something?"

"I don't."

"You're lying."

Shuo Ye fell silent.

The Naka River flowed between them, unhurried. A white egret skimmed over the surface, its wingtips nearly brushing the water and kicking up a scatter of tiny splashes.

Sasuke took a step forward and stood at the edge of the embankment. The wind ruffled his hair, loose strands sticking to his cheeks.

"Mom said something last night," Sasuke said. "She said—'Sasuke, no matter what happens in the future, Mom loves you.'"

Shuo Ye's breath caught.

"She's never said anything like that before." Sasuke's voice began to tremble, though he might not have realized it himself. "She just... said it all of a sudden. Then she touched my head for a long time."

"Sasuke—"

"I think something bad is going to happen." Sasuke turned around, staring directly into Shuo Ye's eyes. "But I don't know what. Itachi won't tell me. Dad won't say anything either. Mom is obviously crying, but the way she smiles is even scarier than crying."

A thin gray-white mist rose over the river, drifting close to the surface. In the distance, faint voices came from the direction of the Uchiha Clan District. The words could not be made out, but their tones were low and grave.

Shuo Ye looked at Sasuke.

This child knew nothing yet. He did not know what torment his brother was enduring, did not know what decision his father Fugaku had made at the clan meeting, did not know that the night drawing ever closer would take everything from him.

He only knew his mother was crying, his father was not home, and his brother refused to speak.

That was all the fear a seven-year-old child could sense.

And Shuo Ye knew every answer.

But he could not say a single word.

He could not say, "In three days, it will all be over." He could not say, "Your brother will kill your parents." He could not say, "That night, you will wake up in a hallway and see everyone in your clan dead."

He could not say anything.

He could only stand here, look into Sasuke's eyes, and use every ounce of strength he had to seem like a seven-year-old who understood nothing.

But his hands were trembling.

"Shuo Ye." Sasuke called him again.

"Yeah."

"What you said by the river before..." Sasuke paused. "You said, 'Come find me to train.'"

"I did."

"Did you mean it?"

Shuo Ye looked at Sasuke. Beneath the gray daylight, Sasuke's face looked very small. He was half a head shorter than Shuo Ye, with narrow shoulders. His clan uniform was a little too big on him, and the cuffs had been rolled twice so they would not cover his fingers.

A child who had not grown up yet.

A child about to lose everything.

"Sasuke."

"What?"

Shuo Ye spoke.

He did not even know why he said it. It was not something he had planned, rehearsed, or even something he was "supposed" to say. The words left his mouth before he realized it, like a stone rolling up from the depths of his chest—heavy, crashing to the ground.

"No matter what happens—we're brothers."

Sasuke froze.

The Naka River flowed between them. The wind blew from downstream, carrying the river's distinctive fishy scent and the smell of wet earth.

Sasuke's eyes widened slightly. He looked at Shuo Ye, lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Then he nodded.

Very seriously.

"Yeah."

Just one word. But coming from Sasuke, it carried more weight than any grand declaration.

The two of them climbed down from the embankment to the bank of the Naka River.

The water was clear enough to see the pebbles beneath. Shuo Ye crouched down and scooped up a handful of water. It trickled through his fingers, so cold it made them go numb.

Sasuke crouched beside him.

"What made you say that?" Sasuke asked.

"What?"

"That kind of thing, all of a sudden." Sasuke tilted his head to look at him. "You don't usually say much."

"I said it because I thought of it."

"Thought of what?"

"Don't remember."

Sasuke stared at him for two seconds, then gave a "Hmph" and turned away.

But the corner of his mouth moved.

The curve was tiny, impossible to notice without looking closely. But Shuo Ye saw it.

Sasuke was smiling.

Not the polite smile used around people, nor a forced smile. It was the instinctive, fleeting, genuine smile that appeared after something struck him.

The smile of a seven-year-old child.

Pure.

Shuo Ye stood and shook the water from his hands.

"Let's go back. It's about to rain."

Sasuke stood as well. He glanced at the sky—the clouds had indeed grown thicker, their edges taking on a dark lead-gray shade, the color that came before a downpour.

"Wait."

Sasuke extended his right hand toward Shuo Ye.

His five fingers spread open, palm facing up.

Shuo Ye looked at that hand. It was small, the joints distinct, the nails neatly trimmed—Lady Mikoto always trimmed Sasuke's nails. Everyone in the Uchiha Clan District knew that.

He raised his own right hand.

Their palms slapped together on the bank of the Naka River.

The sound was crisp. A sharp clap echoed far across the quiet riverbank.

Then Sasuke pulled back his fist, shoved it into his pocket, and headed toward the clan district without looking back.

After taking a few steps, he stopped again, turned sideways, and looked at Shuo Ye with those black eyes.

"Next spar, I'll beat you."

"Fine by me."

The corner of Sasuke's mouth moved again.

Then he turned away. His dark figure walked farther and farther into the gray daylight, eventually disappearing behind the willow grove leading to the Uchiha Clan District.

Shuo Ye stood alone on the bank of the Naka River.

It began to rain.

Not heavily. It was the fine, dense kind of rain that was almost impossible to see. It felt cool against his face and made no sound on the river's surface, but the grass was quickly soaked through.

He lowered his head and looked at his right hand.

His palm was still red—from their high-five. Did it hurt? Not really. But he clenched that hand tightly.

"We're brothers."

He had said those words. At this moment, before the night of the massacre arrived, before it was too late—he had said them to Sasuke.

But was it really not too late?

He knew the answer.

It was.

No matter what he said, no matter what he did, the night three days from now would still unfold according to the script already set. Itachi would come. The Uchiha Clan would be massacred. Sasuke would wake among the corpses.

And he—

Shuo Ye lowered his right hand.

He did not know whether he would survive that night.

But at least he had done one thing. Before the storm arrived, before a seven-year-old child who still knew nothing, he had said one sentence.

"No matter what happens, we're brothers."

It was the only thing he could do.

The rain grew heavier. Shuo Ye pulled up his collar and headed toward the Uchiha Clan District. Behind him, the Naka River's sound gradually faded.

The sky overhead was gray without a trace of light.