Cold - Akab0mb - Naruto (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

“Come here.”

Sasuke cracks open his eyes to cast Orochimaru a threatening look. He hates it when his snake sensei spits orders in that tone that is both authoritarian and condescending. And the implication of this particular charge aggravates Sasuke even more. He grabs at the heavy blanket covering his freezing form and curls further into himself, eyes moving from where Orochimaru rests against a tree to the fire between them. Maybe if he studies the flames long enough they will warm him to the core.

It is rare they go on a mission together; usually the sannin will send Sasuke out alone or with a single partner. The only other time they travel together is during the regular trips between hideouts. But Orochimaru had felt it necessary to personally infiltrate the archive housing military documents in the Land of Iron, and this meant bringing his favourite protégé along.

A meager shiver racks through Sasuke, a sign that soon he will be too cold even for his body’s autonomic nervous system to keep him safe. Frustration builds in him, and he silently curses his situation. The mission had been pointless– they were able to find the well-concealed arsenal deep in the snowy cliff side to the southeast of the Three Wolves. Getting inside was not difficult as the area was not heavily guarded; evidently the samurai of the nation assumed no one would find this place. But inside the icy, iron-doored cavern was nothing but outdated military strategies and records of shinobi battles long passed. Orochimaru had said it was not unexpected to find nothing of use, and that it confirmed his suspicions about the more promising locations of information being within the shinobi nations. This, of course, was of no consolation to Sasuke who had not even encountered anyone to test his burgeoning skills on– an entirely useless mission as far as he was concerned, and he let Orochimaru know his feelings on the matter by unceremoniously blasting open one of the heavy iron doors with a powerful chirodi upon their exit. Orochimaru had smiled and half-heartedly chastised his student for his brashness.

With no more business in the unforgivingly frigid Land of Iron, they had begun the long trek back to their hideout. However, with night falling and a great distance left to travel, Orochimaru had made the decision to rest until dawn.

Sasuke shifts slightly, noting the numbness of his shoulder and hip where they press against the frozen earth beneath him, adding to his discomfort. He glances at Orochimaru who seems perfectly comfortable in this environment. Sasuke ponders this– aren't snakes cold-blooded? Shouldn't Orochimaru be suffering more than he is? The bright gleam of flames reflected off golden-yellow serpentine eyes catches Sasuke's attention, and he realizes the sannin is watching him. Sasuke closes his eyes defiantly.

“I don't have the patience to deal with your petulance right now, Sasuke-kun. Come here.”

“I'm fine.”

“Your stubbornness will get you killed.” Orochimaru's voice doesn't carry its usual hint of amusem*nt; he sounds irritated. Sasuke ignores it, willing himself to sleep.

With every passing minute the numbness spreads through his body, slowly working its way through his extremities into his bones and towards his abdomen. He tries to imagine it is his body drifting into a hibernating slumber.

He listens to the crackling of the fire and thinks how cruel it is that the heat seems to rasp at his wind-lashed skin without easing the chill underneath. Perhaps he is not cold, but rather singed, just like when he was small and working at improving his gōkakyū no jutsu for hours on end, the flames licking at his lips and cheeks mockingly. Maybe he is asleep; dreaming of days long passed as he always does, recounting over and over his youth surrounded by his loving family, his mother's warm embrace, his brother’s kind eyes– deadening now, fading into obscurity before bursting finally into an explosion of hateful red– red like the emblem he wears, red like the blood creeping towards his toes, seeking one last tender caress to reassure its child as only a parent would.

Blood should be warm. But their blood is cold.

Dreaming. Maybe he had drifted and the sputtering of the fire roused him. His head aches terribly but he feels he doesn't have the energy to pull the blanket over his face.

He just needs to make it until dawn.

“Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke opens his eyes slowly, but does not look at Orochimaru. He transfixes on a patch of frozen ground by his head, studying the interwoven lattices of the crystalized soil as though it has some knowledge to impart– some solution to offer.

It does not.

He sighs, glancing at his sensei with a distasteful expression. Orochimaru stares back with a concerned look. Sasuke has never been able to clearly distinguish which of Orochimaru's inclinations are meant for him, and which are simply considerations for his body– the snake’s next vessel. He decides, as he always does, it's the latter as he stiffly begins to sit up. Each and every small movement is mechanical as if his joints are rusted and creaky. His legs tremble with weakness as he stands, and he hopes the blanket draping from his shoulders down to his knees helps to hide it. Each footstep towards Orochimaru's sitting form a heroic test of his strength, and his pride.

Orochimaru parts the blanket covering his sitting form, beckoning Sasuke into the warmth. Sasuke all but collapses at his side, not wanting to make any more humiliating decisions. He is grateful for the arm that resolutely grabs him, wrapping around him and folding him into warmth, or what he assumes is warmth– his skin is too numb to know the difference. He feels Orochimaru pull him over his thigh, positioning Sasuke between his legs. Orochimaru draws him in, blankets wrapped securely around him by possessive arms. Sasuke allows his head to fall against his sensei’s chest, his cheek regaining some feeling where it presses against warm fabric.

He feels a comforting pressure on the top of his head as a veil of black falls around him. He shifts feebly in protest, but doesn't push further when he feels the arms binding him tighten.

“Obstinate child.”

“Shut up,” Sasuke retorts in a hushed voice.

He takes in a shaky breath; the familiar and smokey scent of his sensei’s clothes a bizarre solace.

“What a troublesome Uchiha.”

He feels himself sink further into the snake’s embrace as his eyes close and sleep overtakes him.