Wane

Yugao

Summary: He looked for the moon, both then and now.

Author's Note: I've been writing too many love stories that people are starting to mistake me for a hopeless romantic. So I wrote this for a few reasons: to add one non-lovey-dovey one-shot to my page and to talk about my take on Sasuke. I dedicate this piece to my baby cousin Izak, who baby Sasuke was based on. (Even though Izak's always mean to me…) and there are going to be a lot more Mikoto-Sasuke mother-son moments from me soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sasuke or his mom, but "Where is the moon?" is exclusively copyrighted to Izak Daniel. Thou shall not touch.

"Where is the moon?"

It is in the north the first time the words escape her lips. He is the baby cradled in her arms, his almond-shaped dark eyes red-rimmed from his tears. His sniffles fade into the nighttime music of the crickets' chirping, the leaves' rustling, and his mother's soft lullabies. He lifts his head enough to look upward, up into the sky dotted with stars. A small smile warms the baby's face as he follows his mother's gaze to the bright, silvery orb that hung in the sky. A burble of a laugh comes from him, and she nuzzles her face against his little form. With a small hand, he reaches out towards that seemingly unreachable light, and tries to catch it in his tiny palm.

It is northeast as he speaks his first words. His face is nuzzled against his mother's shoulder as she hums a slow, sad tune to make him fall asleep. He seems to recognize what she meant, and cranes his neck upward to search for it. He almost falls back, away from his mother's grasp, when she catches him just in time. She is relieved, and she knows the worry shows on her face. He laughs, though he doesn't know what almost happened. His small lips form a single word, and her eyes fill with tears as she clutches him closer, never wanting to let go.

It is east as the little boy takes his first step. He hangs on to the wooden post by the house as he pushes himself up, while she holds her arms out to him, beckoning him closer. With his little hand he reaches out to her, and urges his right foot forward. She smiles warmly as he tries to move the left one, too, just to reach her. But he is off-balance, and staggers, grazing his knee on the rough ground. She rushes to his side and picks him up as she sings him a soft lullaby while she cleans his wound. Sniffling, he smiles – he sees the moon, and it comforts him.

It is southeast as he and his brother begin to see each other differently. Before, he spent time with no one but his mother; and now, in a chance evening she is away, he squirms to see her and walks, with slight, staggering steps, to search for her. But he falls as he does, face first into the tatami mats. He closes his dark eyes as he awaits the impact – but it never comes. Two warm hands lift him up to his feet and he comes face to face with eyes that mirror his own. His brother looks at him curiously – before, he never paid much attention to the little boy. But things change as the toddler chuckles and points up to the sliver of moon up on the night sky.

It is south as he realizes how much he looks up to his father. It is barely past sunset, but the moon begins to rise – he sits out on the porch with his mother as a man's silhouette begins to appear in the distance. It is his father: his clothes are slightly tattered and bloodstained, and his face is smudged with scars and dust, but there is no mistaking who it is. The little boy looks up as his mother greets her husband. He gives a flicker of a smile and an acknowledgement of her greeting. His eyes dart, then, to the small boy at his feet, and smiles before he finally disappears.

It is southwest he first watches his brother train. The boy flies through the air with indeterminable grace and speed – and with unequalled accuracy, the kunai he holds in his hands cut through the air and make their way to the paper targets. He watches in awe as his older brother, the one he spends so much time with, the one he shares his childlike thoughts with, can be so irrepressibly dangerous, at the same time. His dark gray eyes sparkle with brotherly admiration, matching the twinkling stars that just begin to rise, and wishes that someday, he will be able to do the same.

It is in the west as he enters the academy. He beams with pride at consistently becoming top of his class, if only to please his family. With his mother's kind words as the only encouragement he ever needs, he works hard at becoming the best he can be. He knows, in a way, that he doesn't want to just be as good as Itachi, to equal him – he wants to defeat him. He wants to defeat his father's favorite, and in turn be someone his father takes pride in. He trains nonstop, day and night, only to retire when the moon has fallen and the dawn has broken.

It is northwest as he watches his family slowly drift apart. His brother fights the strict traditions of the Uchiha clan, disrespecting his lineage in front of the other shinobi of Konoha and disgracing their proud name in the process. His father uses him to spite his eldest son, uses his promise of ability and power to prove that he doesn't need Itachi as much as he used to think after all. And his mother – only his mother stays the same. She holds him close as she promises everything will turn out for the better, but he is not so sure.

It is one night he comes home late from school, and he opens the door to his parents' room. He finds no one, only the chill wind picking up from outside and their cold, dead bodies lying on the wooden floor, staining it with their blood. Every door, every window speaks of his clan members' blood drawn without mercy. He looks for his brother, his only other source of solace and repose: but it is he who began it all. It is he who shed the Uchiha blood, giving it to the ground to drink up greedily.

He looks into those eyes he once thought peaceful, wise, and serene. With terror, he sees only rage; a pitiless, merciless fury that he never knew existed in his brother. He listens to that same voice, once so soothing and calm, but now so strange, cold, and distant. A threat lies, shallowly buried, in his words, as once again, he disappears into the night.

Tears form in his eyes. For a moment, all is frozen; all is numb. Slowly, he looks up to the dark, starless sky. The wan moon is invisible: hidden by the wisps of sallow gray clouds that floated past. He feels the first few tears begin to fall. He knows not where the moon is.

Author's Note: It's in between what I think is short and long for this drabble, so all's well and good. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, considering the fact that I haven't watched those episodes with this data for months. I realize the moons might not be in the positions I mentioned, but bear with me for the sake of literary license. Haha – anyway, please review and tell me what you thought of Sasuke. Thanks!