His first visit is to a barren wasteland, and getting there takes him apart and puts him back together again. The universe opens, mouth wide for him, and he steps through to his destination.

Every molecule in his body must travel with him, but nothing like entering another world, another dimension through a black hole could ever be simple. Nothing so incredible could ever come without something in return. It destroys him, literally. He feels the tips of his fingers fall off like the tearing of skin, watches himself disappear through the darkness before his very eyes. He loses the palms of his hands, his wrists, and then his arms, and his torso. He disintegrates and the last things he sees are the plates of his hair. He knows that his creation is not definitive when the lights in his eyes turn off; the world does not have to create him again.

That being said, he's almost surprised when he's able to open his eyes once more. He becomes new within seconds that feel like years; time means nothing with this skill, he realizes. He has no idea how long he's been gone, not the faintest clue how quickly time is passing in his world. He has no control over what the world does to him, no control over what it will take from him, but he comes to the conclusion that the pain may be enough—and, he'll tell you, it's worse than losing an arm. He'd know.

When he is once again complete, his brain begins registering his surroundings. The desert is gray, and soft, and the sky is lavender, and empty. Wherever he is, it is unimportant, but he has gotten there. He is in one piece, but he is exhausted, wasted and spent, and he's sure he will collapse at any moment. Taking his chances, he sits in the sand that feels nothing like Suna and realizes he will not be going back any time soon. He hopes, prays, that with each trip, it will become easier, but this time his body is sore, and he cannot keep his eyes open. Not without scanning his surroundings for persons, he rests.

The area is strange, and empty. It's not particularly hot, and not particularly cold; he knows, without a doubt, there's nothing he will find here. This is a dry run; he is testing his powers, and this is as far as he could go: an empty void of sand. After hours of resting, the day never changes.

He travels back after what feels like a week later. The world takes him apart and leaves him back where he started; he's just as exhausted as when he went, but the Konoha heat feels good against his dead skin, and he's never enjoyed the sound of winds, and birds chirping more in his life.

He sits for a moment, catching a breath that's long gone; he doesn't remember the last time he was this tired, this spent. He spreads his fingers in the hot grass, stretches his legs, and ankles, and toes. The waning blues and growing lavenders of the sky tell of a sparkling twilight, a moon ready to rise to its rightful place. After a long breath, he stands, and heads for the hospital.

The walk feels long, and the town is full. It's a beautiful day, he thinks, to go out to dinner, to spend time at the shops, to buy groceries with your family. He sees young children lingering in the dusk before their parents call them, and couples heading out for early dates. It's reassuring enough that the Konoha hustle and bustle is overwhelming, and familiar; he is, he's sure, home.

The hospital appears after too many steps, cream and orange. The doors slide open, and an empty ER greets him. He approaches the desk slowly, with a frown on his face; the AC is too high, and the strong smell of cleaner is too much. The nurse looks up at him with a pretty smile that falters as soon as she realizes whom she's talking to. "Uchiha-san, can I help you?"

He nods his head. "Sakura—where is she?"

The nurse bites her lip before turning to a schedule on her desk. She skims it, and says, "She should be in her office right about now. Would you like me to walk you there? You're looking a little unwell."

"I've got it from here," he says, and nods his head gratefully. Muscle memory takes his legs down a maze of hallways, and he's presented with her door. He reaches for her doorknob, before deciding to knock instead.

"Coming!" Sakura yells. She opens the door not a second later, smiling widely. She pushes a short piece of pink hair behind her ear and says, "Sasuke-kun, you're back."

He hums, and nods his head. "Can I come in?"

She stares at him for a moment, dazed, a smile on her face that he's grown to adore, before she snaps out of it. "Oh, yes, of course! Come right in!"

He follows behind her, and collapses in the chair across from her desk the second he has a chance. She's nearly silent as she sits across from him, a tiny smile on her face. She begins looking through some files when he asks, "How long was I gone for?"

She clucks her tongue as she looks up. "Two days."

"I see." He leans his head back, stares at the white ceiling, and then closes his eyes.

"Don't you go falling asleep on me just yet," she orders. He hears her flip through some more pages, and sigh. "We need to check you out, whether you like it or not."

He hums again, and stretches.

"I can examine you in here, though," she continues. "No reason to make you get up."

She examines him carefully, with soft and fleeting touches that leave him parched. She checks his heart rate, and his blood pressure. She checks his lungs, his ears, his nose, and his throat. She checks in between his fingers and toes. She checks his reflexes, and even checks his hair for ticks and fleas. When she's done, she writes something down in what he assumes is his chart, one of many she must keep handy, and nods her head.

"You're perfectly fine, Sasuke-kun," she concludes with a smile. "Though you look like you could use some rest."

He nods his head. "So, I'm free to go?"

"No missions for at least two days," she insists. "And that's an order."

A smirk twitches on his lips. "If you say so."

He stands, ready to approach the door, but she asks him, "what was it like?"

He pauses in the doorway, and thinks for a moment. His legs ache, and he's still too short of breath. He says, after a moment, "empty."

Her eyes widen, and she nods her head. "Please get some sleep, Sasuke-kun."

"… Maybe," he teases, and she smiles.

Two days later, he leaves on a mission when he can't get thoughts of colorless sand, and green eyes that should never, ever be sad out of his head.

It's two months before Sasuke leaves again.

He finds that he needs more time to recuperate than he thought necessary. His body aches weeks after his first time, weeks after missions that were supposed to bring him solace. Sakura begs him to rest, but Naruto takes too many jobs, and Sasuke won't be left behind. It is when he finally catches his breath that he tells the Hokage he will be leaving once again.

Kakashi smiles kindly. "Are you sure you're ready, Sasuke?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he says.

The Hokage nods his head slowly, skeptically, but his smile never falls. "You'll leave first thing in the morning, then."

Sasuke packs his bag quickly that morning, with a change of clothes he's sure he won't use, weapons he hopes he won't need, and toiletries he'll throw out, anyway. He doesn't bother telling Naruto he's leaving because the idiot already knows too much anyway—will know what he's doing when he doesn't meet him for Tuesday night ramen, or when he won't show up to training at least an hour before he does that Friday.

His fingers twitch when he passes the hospital, but he continues.

Sasuke makes space for himself at the training grounds where he left from the first time. He finds a patch of dirt that should be comfy enough to land on if needed, with enough trees to surround him to prohibit interruption, but enough light to allow him recognition once he returns. He takes a deep breath, and holds it until his lungs feel like fire before he releases.

If he thinks too much, thinks about the pain, and the chances, and the people he's leaving behind, he won't go. He takes another breath, and forms the hand seals as quickly as his fingers will allow.

He falls apart.

He screams, but it's lost in the tides of time, and space; he loses himself before himself. The last thing he leaves before his eyes is his heart, and it's an aching tear he'll never forget. The darkness consumes him for what feels like hours, but he's sure is shorter than the first time. He's put back together again.

When Sasuke opens his eyes, he's surrounded by lush, vivid greens. The sun bursts through the fresh spring leaves of the forest, and he can make out thick clouds in the clear, blue sky. It smells like mud, and moss, and his ears fusillade with the sounds of crying canaries and spring zephyrs.

He realizes, after a moment, that he is back in Konoha.

His entire body aches dryly, and as he itches to maneuver his joints fight back. It takes him a moment to gain control over what's left of his ability to move; he stands slowly, takes his time with his body, and frowns. His first thought is that the jutsu did not work.

He takes a step backward, and looks up towards the sky. His eyes take in the scenery, and his mind recognizes, after soaking in as much as he can, that this is not the Konoha he knows. The trees are too ornate, and the sky is too crisp. The wind isn't as sharp as the nippy air of the fall. Where he should smell dry dirt and crushed leaves, he smells mud. He does not feel the same, sweet aura that is both comforting and uneasy. This place is far too fresh faced, far too lacking in the tear of war and the taste of wickedness. This is not his Konoha.

His breath catches in his throat, eyes awakening; he scans the surroundings, sifts through trees, the dense foliage, and thick mud. His jutsu certainly worked—and worked far better than the last time; this is not a barren wasteland, but, he realizes after a moment, he is alone.

With that reassurance, he exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. He releases his dojutsu, and begins to take notice of how heavy he truly is, how wilting his eyesight is becoming. His mind is wearing quite thin, the weight of his legs is too apparent.

He takes one last look around him and decides his safety is not in danger. He takes a spot near a tree that is decidedly cozier than the rest and shuts his eyes.

Sasuke wakes the next morning, nearly too soon, to the sound of voices.

The voices are so familiar that his mind doesn't register any danger at first. He shifts, and groans, throwing an arm over his eyes to shade himself from the blistering sun. He inhales deeply, the smell of the wet forest and the fresh spring flowers filling his nostrils, and stretches slowly, opening his mouth to yawn.

His eyes snap open, and he realizes where he is.

He manages to move his sore body quickly enough to a high branch, hidden beneath a thick blanket of leaves. His lungs wheeze when he settles, his weight is too much on his feet, and his back cracks when he leans down to crouch. He holds back a painful groan, biting his lip, and stills into an uncomfortable silence that stings his throbbing skin.

He hears the voice again, not entirely clear, but for some reason recognizable, and a shuffle of leaves below him. Despite his better judgment, his Sharingan flickers to life, and he sifts through arching branches and thick tree stumps until his eye settles on a clearing; the training grounds, he processes shortly after.

He shuts his eye when a shooting pain pierces through his head, and grits his teeth, trying to stay as silent as possible. When he opens it back up, it's black.

The voices appear closer than before when he hears them again; they're entering the woods. He realizes this will be nothing more than a waiting game as he begins to hear the crunching of leaves under boots and something like three voices no less than a mile away. He lowers himself carefully onto a branch in a more comfortable position, nearly groaning when he moves too quickly, and hides himself as close to the trunk as possible. He will be useless, now, if he is caught.

So, he waits, tuning his ears in as best as he can.

He makes out the first string of words a few moments later, "Bastard, pick up the pace, wouldn't want you to get lost!" and realization dawns on him.

His eyes widen, and he hears a response, "Shut up, idiot."

"Both of you, cut it out," a female voice scolds, and he tries to swallow, but his throat is nearly too dry. "Let's just find this stupid cat and get out of here."

Sasuke feels his knees go weak, but not from their tenderness. He feels lucky he's sitting because the shock is enough to knock the wind out of him.

"Bet you I'll find it first!" Naruto says.

He hears himself reply, "We'll see," and then Sakura sighs, loudly.

It's his team, himself, a few yards ahead of him, searching in the same woods he landed in just hours ago. This is not just some land like Konoha, some dimension with a thrush like home, with a smell that reminds him of a spring day in his youth. This is not any random configuration, and this is not something he expected, not at all. This is the Konoha he knows, and he is only a few feet behind himself.

It takes him a moment to catch himself when he realizes his breathing is far too shallow, too loud, too noticeable. He snaps his mouth shut, and stills himself, uncomfortable and suddenly too aware. They're coming closer, now, and he's sure if he flicks on his Sharingan again, he'll be able to see them.

"I think I see it!" Naruto calls, and he can hear the grin in his voice. There is a loud shuffle of feet, and he hears the snap of a branch under what he's sure is the blonde's weight.

Naruto hits the ground, and he hears himself curse. "If it's around, you're going to scare it off," he says. The sound of himself is strange, and curiously foreign. "Let's just move forward."

"I saw it," Naruto says, and Sasuke once again hears him spring onto a branch.

Sakura says, "he's going to get all scratched up."

He sighs. "Better him than us."

"Sasuke-kun," she chastises, but Sasuke can hear the smile in her voice. He hears them walking closer, towards him, he's nearly sure. She says, "we should help him."

"Just leave him be," he says. "He'll find it, and then we can get the hell out of here."

Sakura pauses for a second, and then says, "Okay, fine." It's not a moment later that they come into sight.

Sasuke sees Sakura first, with a sheet of long, pink hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She has the same pretty smile on her face he remembers fondly. Her hitai-ate is fixed securely around her forehead, and her Jonin vest is tight and pristine. She looks amused more than annoyed at the busy-work of a mission.

Then he sees himself.

He looks nearly the same: messy hair, tall, and lean. He's wearing a Jonin vest, not unlike Sakura, and his hitai-ate is wrapped in its place without a scratch on it. He has both of his dark eyes, and he's smiling—playful, and amused—a smile he's sure he's never seen on himself before. It doesn't look misplaced on this Sasuke, reaching his eyes that shine with mirth.

He feels his heart begin to race in his chest, watching them, watching him. Sakura laughs at a comment he makes, pressing her tiny hand to his shoulder. He shakes his head at her, and casts her a look that Sasuke has seen before—only because he's given her that look, too, only because that's a look he solely reserves for her, and her alone. It's a look between confused and adoring, a look where his eyes flicker away as quickly as they were on her.

It makes her smile widen, though; this Sasuke is far more candid, far less tactful with his intentions.

"Sasuke-kun." His name sounds just as sweet on this Sakura's lips, and she wraps her hands around his bicep. He can feel himself blush while he watches this Sasuke only smirk. "If we help Naruto we can get out of here much sooner."

"Oh?" he asks. He presses a kiss to Sakura's temple and suddenly Sasuke's heartbeat goes from quick to frantic, erratic. "Fine, let's go help the idiot."

Sasuke watches them disappear into the trees, looking for a cat they may never find. It takes him a moment to calm his racing pulse, and the blush on his cheeks is hot. He feels like he infringed upon an incredibly intimate moment—he tries to decide if he should feel such a way, even though he's watching himself.

Sasuke stays still until night falls. He falls back to the grass and uses whatever chakra he's built since his last trip to push himself back to where he came from. He's too tired and too confused and too overwhelmed for it to hurt and soon he's settling into a patch of dirt, piece by piece, home.