Pre-dawn, Konoha was all burnt shades of red and orange and yellow, shaded only by the green of the forest around it. Sasuke had always found it warm, even when he'd stifled within the familiarity of it; home, indelibly, as much born as bred. He felt like a stranger now, face frozen into something he hoped approximated bored calm, as if he were simply waiting for an early-morning training session with a busy teacher.

Few enough people were outside other than the guards, and they were accustomed to seeing the Hokage and his students out for training at irrational hours -- Sasuke was left alone to wait just outside the gate, carefully pressing his thoughts and emotions through a sieve until only those necessary to get where they needed to go remained.

He was only logic, loyalty, and the confidence of a blade in his hand.