honey, only the deepest pit of tar can break your fall now.
china daiquiri—
("aftertaste," "beeswing," "noble rot," "eiswein," and "off-dry" are all wine terms.)

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part i:
aftertaste—
(the lingering of taste on a palate.)

Regret was something that always haunted him—maybe it was leaving someone; maybe it was always being too weak; maybe it was something else. Or, sometimes, emotions (things that he had cast away a long, long time ago) came back to him; flooded back to him like birds—he hates them without a passion; he hates birds more than he hates Itachi—birds, of all things; birds that haunt his head, singing in a language he doesn't understand (an ancient Tsuchi no Kuni dialect), doesn't want to understand.

Orochimaru says that he gets them too, that he hears the birds singing in Archaic something-that-Sasuke-can't-remember-all-the-time; that he can hear those birds tell him things that he doesn't want to hear ("Don't we have so much in common, Sasuke-kun?"—Stop calling me that, he wants to say, because it makes me feel loved); and that they tell him that he's only human; that he's going to die one day at a Fenghuang's claws ("What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Sasuke had asked but Orochimaru laughed his raspy laugh and doesn't answer everything).

"What—" he tries again, but his replacement of a teacher (it used to be Kakashi) just laughed, looked down into the younger boy's eyes, and leaned down to kiss him. He tells himself, I'm not surprised; he tells himself, I certainly don't care whether a pathetic wretch or my teacher is kissing me; he tells himself, I'm not disappointed when the man pulls away, touching Sasuke's face dotingly with cold fingers—goose bumps pricked uncomfortably at his skin—caressing his warm cheeks like a lover would. The fingers left his face slowly, so achingly slow, and he said, "That is something for another."

But you're not my lover, Sasuke says to himself angrily. But—you're—not—my—lover.

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part ii:
beeswing—
(mucilage commonly found in Vinho do Porto.)

Someone's hands have the sweet scent of honey (honey in Otogakure—were they insane?)—it's barren, here—and maybe he missed it. Missed everything—missed the annoying declarations of hate from Naruto; missed the annoying declarations of love from Sakura; missed the annoying declaration of tardiness from Kakashi; missed it. Kabuto says that it's just repercussions—that it'll go away soon—but it's been two weeks and he's been craving honey from sun-up to sun-down and it's annoying.

"Well, then, Sasuke-kun," says Kabuto; "what can I do about it?" Sasuke's thirteen and spoiled—expects everything to be done for him; expects that revenge should be easy; expects that people would have half a brain and be able to comprehend orders. "We don't have any honey in Otogakure," he explains nonchalantly. "It—"

"Then go get some," he growls half-heartedly from underneath the layers of blankets he had bestowed upon himself. "Go get some from somewhere—I don't care where."

Orochimaru had called Sasuke a selfish chick and Sasuke had called Orochimaru a narcissistic snake.

(I will eat you alive sounded better in his head than it did out loud.)

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part iii:
noble rot—
(a fungus affecting wine grapes.)

Cedar wood rots from the inside-out.

He looks out the window and thinks, My mother is a fish.

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part iv:
eiswein—
(german for "iced wine," a wine made with frozen grapes.)

Kabuto has so many quirks and flaws that Sasuke doesn't bother to ask the medic to stop when he sings in an Archaic-Mizu-no-Kuni-dialect; he just stops whatever he's doing (usually it's training, sometimes it's calligraphy), gets up, and moves to the next room down the hall and pretends that no-he-cannot hear the in-tune pitches coming from the training grounds—it's soft, so soft, but it's there; he hates being a shinobi; hates Kabuto more.

"Sasuke-kun, if you try to avoid it all the time then you'll never adjust," scolds Orochimaru but the boy does not reply; just stares off into space and pretends so hard that he's embarrassed; pretends so hard that Kakashi is there next to him and Naruto is grinning fiercely and Sakura just touches his cold, cold shoulders and says, I know; he pretends that he's a prop with wings on his back and he wants to see them except he's a prop so he can stand, not fly, he can't move, so he can't.

"Stop being so cold," says the snake, but Sasuke thinks, I can't help it that I'm like this; I can't go back and beg; I can't, I can't, I can't. "Don't do this to yourself; worrying."

"Do is the beginning of done," snaps Sasuke on impulse, startling the birds with the sudden volume, and all is silent, too silent for anything to be done, and so that was when it was done, done, done; everything was done; Orochimaru was done kissing his cheek; Orochimaru was done teaching him; Orochimaru would be done in more ways than he could count.

Look out the window and see all these beautiful things, his mother once said, but his mother is dead.

"And see all these beautiful things," he murmurs quietly into the dawn air, before abruptly sitting up so quickly that he feels sick, that he sees colors, jolts of bright colors, feeling Orochimaru move beside him.

The word is on his tongue but he suddenly can't remember.

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part v:
off-dry—
(a wine that has the barest hint of sweetness.)

There is his game face; there is his heart in hand; there are his memories in the other; and then he sheathes his sword.

And tomorrow is another day, his mother once said, but his mother is dead.

And he breathes.