Your Hand In Mine

by daemonlord

Summary:

Post war, Naruto and Sasuke wake up in the hospital. There's still a few things left unsaid.

It’s less like waking up and more like coming back to life. 

It was Sakura who healed him enough he could undo the trance the world was imprisoned in, but it was Naruto who revived him. He invoked whatever soul survived through his efforts to tear it out, so the vacancy inside would be solid and not a figurative gaping hole.

Sasuke couldn’t explain it, what draws them together. They said all there was to say, they entered each other’s minds and saw the proof for themselves. Exhaustion set in, even Naruto depleted his energy and chakra network.

He strayed from victory then. Their heads and hearts combined, a win was futile. 

Even so, he’d rather take a surrender. Deep down, the conclusion he sought was a definitive end, whatever that would be, not a martyrs demise but a warriors, what Itachi robbed him of twofold. He’d done his part, teaming up with his nostalgia, pain riddled three man cell. Worst case scenario, in his fight with Naruto, he’d meet his maker at the hand of someone who cared for him at some point. If he did as he reflected on repetitively and offed himself, that wouldn’t be.

The train of thought going into what he deemed a finale, Sasuke concluded the most important attachment two people could have is death, be it suicide or assassination. Amidst his desperate depravity, he craved to prey on Naruto with that, to be close to him in a way they’d never be again, that couldn’t be reversed. He incorrectly assumed as he gave it up, benevolence, forgiveness, everything he served to him in surplus. 

The affiliation of family, the disordered four member alliance that had unfolded with every mission and meal afterwards, like it was replacing his, had been such a regret he couldn’t keep playing into it. Comprehensible with Sakura and Naruto troubling him for the sake of it, as his brother might've before the fall, he needed to suspend that dependency in its tracks.

To be close to Naruto was a compulsion he wallowed in far too long. Sakura nagging him for a date was becoming uninspired, a test if she could get him to drop his mask and exhibit an emotion he didn’t have. Naruto neither quit challenging him any opening he found.

An isolated event, Naruto was the first person at the Uchiha compound of his volition. He was overeager as he hadn’t ever received an invite to someone else’s place, and they were the same there, Sasuke never invited someone over, either. There wasn’t anyone to.

Back then, he commented something curiously profound Sasuke’s internal musings recited over and over while they were in disagreement. It’s kind of sad here. Like what happened hasn’t left.

It hadn’t. Sasuke was still alive. It couldn’t be over. If Itachi betrayed their clan, he wasn’t an Uchiha anymore. Sasuke was the last, the last one standing. 

It was either take revenge or kill himself. He’d decided to live to spite Itachi’s claim he would be too weak for retribution.

Naruto shook his head, rubbed his neck, apologized for speaking out of turn, as if that wasn’t what he did every time he opened his mouth. 

It pissed him off, that’s what he’d determined. Naruto had understood without meaning to. A draft of wind brought the smell of blood back, Itachi’s voice and shadow resided in the corner of every room, as did the ghost of his parents. Nothing left and nothing was left simultaneously.

Looking back, he can acknowledge by his pulse and sweaty hands he was nervous, he was afraid he’d lose him on the same vein he wanted to because he felt too seen, and he longed to hide from it more so than lean in toward it.

That day, Kakashi located Naruto and Sasuke together with a report of another assignment. He caught them sparring and arguing, hitting each other just to touch each other. When Naruto turned away to leave, Kakashi pat his head in a gesture he was pleased with him for hanging out with Naruto of his free will, in spite of its violent escalation. He was letting his friends be his friends. Or, his friend. 

That certified his dread. He had something to lose again, that could be ripped from him anytime his guard fell. He was irresolute. He faked he deserved to be content by anything other than the gratification his vengeance would bring.

Perhaps, it’s a part of growing up, that Sasuke identifies it for what it was, that Naruto was at top of the list of those he cared about. It became a kind of poison. 

Under Orochimaru’s tutelage, the team he contrived as well as Kabuto and Orochimaru himself, viewed him as cold, impulsive, and made of vitriol, and that’s how he liked to be interpreted. Better that than what Naruto alleged he was, however much he retreated from it. Someone sensitive that could harness affection, he slandered him with his loud and lengthy mistaken opinions.

Naruto may be as impulsive as he is, but he’s alert to many things he doesn’t mention, hoping to spare others the shame and scrutiny he wore with his dirty clothes as a child. He blathers on to fill the silence he can’t stand, going home to it everyday in his early years.

In the end, Naruto was right. He has a warmth somewhere inside, even if it’s only for him. He can’t help but listen to him, contradict him or not. He really can’t help it. 

The culmination of their contention, the final blow was Naruto asking of him to keep on living. To endure despite.

So, Sasuke followed him back to Konoha, stares boring into the back of his head from those that couldn’t do what he did, that hate him for it, being rogue as much as being better than them. Those were his bitter assessments, anyway. Some days later, he didn’t even agree with himself. He understands their distaste more than Naruto’s devotion, Sakura’s adoration, and Kakashi’s exemption. The disgust makes more sense to him. It fits. 

Everyone employed freed from their fevered fantasies, they crossed the border, and Sakura was unrelenting in her request they stay at the hospital in order to watch over their wounds and ensure they’re not refusing the rest they need. She earned some of her own, Naruto reflected back to her, and they exchanged words, though the spurns were lighthearted, an intimacy to it stranger to him than if they resented each other. He'd become dizzy during his inspection of the two of them. Whilst he didn’t imply it, he followed them without a word, which he supposed was how it used to be. If he wasn’t speeding up his pace to catch up with Naruto, that is.

Sasuke slept for over a day before he first awoke, confused and drenched in sweat, adrift at his surroundings. Recollecting the war and Naruto’s face beside him, bloody and battered yet smiling, searing, streaming tears on his cheeks that wouldn’t stop for a long time, it’s an understatement that he was embarrassed. He was displaced, as well. The sentiments stirred, his injuries reintroduced themselves, and he rushed to the bathroom to vomit. 

On the floor of the hospital bathroom, he had cried again. This time, it wasn’t because he was moved. He was mourning. The loss of himself and his past, for good. It was much more violent. Like a storm, it rained down, did it’s damage, and the skies cleared above him. 

He staggered out into the hallway, more eyes on him. Naruto’s room was next to his, he quickly deduced, and without a conscious choice to go in, he intruded on him. Upon entry, he slept soundly. The clock on the wall informed him it was the middle of the night. 

Based on his appearance, he recovered faster than Sasuke, who scrubbed his teardrops from his eyes and castigated his insentient form. “Don’t you resent me already?” He asked him. “Aren’t you going to be done with me since you got what you wanted?” 

What Naruto was working for was him, and here he was. Pathetic. More lost without the retaliation to guide him. What was going to usher him ahead now?

Naruto, and Naruto alone? Was he his sole justification for existing?

He knew the answer to that. It’s why he stood in his room.

“I don’t favor the idea of submitting to you forever,” he kept disparaging him in his unconsciousness. 

Subsequently, Naruto had woken up and responded to him with a tranquility he prepared himself for Sasuke to be standing over his bed once he could. “I didn’t bring you here to submit to me,” he said, “I can’t picture you submitting to anyone.”

“Why am I here then?”

Masquerading as above him, Sasuke was so low had Naruto outstretched his hand for him once more, it wouldn’t reach him.

“Have you changed your mind?” He predicted his uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough that we’re together again?”

“Am I to live for you now?” 

“You’re living for yourself. If that doesn’t suffice yet, I’ll take on the role,” his weary whisper of a voice had the stoicism it was full volume. “Long as you need me to,” he added. “Whatever you decide to do from now on, I’ll be here, waiting.”

“Haven’t you exhausted yourself waiting?” He replicated his original inquiry, a revision of it. Naruto unearthed him from the grave of his grief he dug for himself and was nigh on buried in. He implicated himself declaring he cannot, under any circumstances, accept him dying without him. “I never needed you to,” he lied, lied and insulted him, after beating the venom out of him to restore his sanity, if they can claim it’s that.

“I guess you didn’t,” Naruto sounded drained. Sasuke should’ve given him a break. It should’ve been an instantaneous success, he should’ve convinced him, wholeheartedly, entirely, doubtlessly. But Sasuke was hungry and hollow and wanted more of Naruto to fill himself up with. Beneath it all, he was nudging him, begging him for more, and more, and more. Even lower than that, he was articulating a concern that Naruto is wrong to fret over him above his personal welfare.

Naruto went on. “I chose for you. I was selfish,” he confessed. “Still, I’d rather be selfish than watch you hurting yourself.” To be a spectator to his self destruction, he’d sooner take blame for this, granting him no choice.

He sighed. Sasuke waited for him to proceed. 

“I might be the one who needs you,” Naruto pronounced next, with as much confidence as insecurity.

“Naruto,” he had spoken his name to substantiate it.

“Sasuke,” he equalled him, flawlessly. 

Sasuke suffered blood loss, potentially an injury to his brain, because in the presence of Naruto and his exhaustless, infallible commitment to him, he came undone. “You won’t forsake me,” he stated. He’d proven it to him so many times it was humiliating it still resounded like a question.

“I never did.” He grabbed onto his wrist and not his hand. “I’m not planning to start. Otherwise, I could’ve spared myself a limb and a few fractured bones.”

Sasuke was comforted by that, his sincerity or his inappropriate attempt at a joke. Naruto had, then, held onto his hand. “You mean way too much to me,” he stammered, and he fell back asleep amongst his jumbled statement, leaving him with it, a better reverie than reality. 

Was there such a thing as too much? He wondered. However, he had felt it, too. Once again, there was nothing else to say.

Sasuke pried their fingers apart after an amount of loitering he’d divulge to nobody. On his way out, he tapped his forehead.

 

---

 

It’s that sensation he parted from him with, he greets the world sensing. Naruto’s hand. Every muscle and joint are twice the weight they should be, and Naruto is drooling on his sleeve, sitting next to his hospital bed. 

He fidgets to free himself. Naruto grumbles, clings to him harder. From the window, it’s dark outside. He must’ve slept another day.

Naruto lifts his head, groggy and disoriented, elated as can be. “You’re awake,” he says, ecstatically, and gives the reverse. “Took you long enough…”

His body is heavy and it hurts, and Naruto’s has to also, but he’s in a shitty chair he shoved against his bed, swollen around one of his eyes, a split lip, a bandage on his cheek, his arm that they dismembered themselves.

It’s the most breathtaking thing he’s seen. Those may be his injuries, cutting into his oxygen supply, so he closes his eyes as it’s too incredible to tolerate. He doesn’t end up claiming his hand for himself. He allows Naruto to keep it a little longer.

After all, he took the other one. The least he can do is lend him his. 

Naruto smiles at him, and Sasuke doesn’t know what’s gotten into him as he smiles right back, slurs to him, “what’s up?” and passes out once more.

 

---

 

The next he’s conscious, Sakura’s in the room and Naruto’s gone. Daylight beyond the open curtains illuminates the chair he was in, unoccupied. It confirms it wasn’t a mirage, that Naruto had been there.

Sakura sees him looking and informs him she had to evict him eventually. However stubborn he is, he necessitates treatment himself, so she resorted to forcing him. She notes she was surprised he didn’t stir at the mayhem, Naruto assertively announcing he wasn’t tired or uncomfortable. 

He doesn’t say it, doesn’t worry her with it, that at this point in his life, he’s so used to chaos it rarely registers.

Sakura examines his arm, both the one he has and doesn’t. She steps back. “Do you still feel sick?” She presents a query.

Sasuke deflects his gaze. 

She walks away, stopping in front of the bed. She props her hand up on the bottom of it. “I can’t read your mind like he does,” she adds, and it’s just vaguely embittered.

“He can’t read my mind,” he pointlessly debates her.

Sakura scoffs at him, and Sasuke’s not bothered by it. He prefers her defiance to her docility.

She disappears from sight and comes back a minute later with some medicine, construing his reservation to respond as verification. Sasuke takes it while they glare at each other. It’s as much familiarity as it is resistance. He resolves to address a debt he has, to rid himself of one of them.

“I haven’t had the chance to say it…” He approaches it gradually, unable to stand the responsibility of facilitating the conversation. “Someone else might’ve left us to bleed out together. Or you could’ve just healed Naruto.”

“Are you thanking me or insulting me?” She asks him. “There’s no universe I’d just heal Naruto.”

“Thanking you,” he says. “I’m no good with these sorts of things.” He can’t train himself to master it. He’s tried. He’s unsure the manner to go along with a situation that needs a delicacy he’s never had, nor engaged anything with.

“I’ve noticed… But you’ve always been no good at it, and we always accepted that about you. Naruto can speak for himself. All I wished for was… you'd accept us back again.” 

“That was difficult to ask of me.”

Her scrutiny is evident. “You’ve done more difficult things.”

“Is he ok?” he asks, eluding her. “He’s prone to act as if everything’s perfectly fine.”

“He’s alright. After a day he was already up and wandering around, being troublesome. He spent most of his time waiting for you.”

Watching him sleep, she means, not leaving his side once, anxious to talk to him, even after they exposed their deepest parts to each other throughout their exchanging blows. 

“He’s too forgiving…” He says mostly to himself.

“Not with everyone,” she corrects him. “He loves you, Sasuke.” Reluctantly Sakura’s come to terms with the irrefutable signs he perhaps loves Sasuke more than she ever did. “I’m pretty sure you’ve filled up his whole heart.”

“I haven’t earned that.”

“It’s not about earning it. Besides, he’d insist you have. That’s the way he is, whatever you or I feel about it… Try not to hold it against him too much.”

“I don’t.” He never could. “What’s there about me to love?” he asks, mostly to himself again.

“That’s a question without an answer,” she responds. “I love both of you, though I doubt why, looking at you in this state.”

“Isn’t it different?”

“I don’t think it is.” She’s also accepted that. “We’ve all had some growing up to do,” she tells him. “It’s my turn to apologize, Sasuke… I was adding to your burdens, wasn’t I?”

“You were doing what you thought was right. That’s… all any of us were doing."

“I should’ve been stronger for you and him. I had no excuse. I just thought… I should go with the connection he couldn’t offer you. How wrong was I?” In both ways.

“You’re talking to me,” he says. “With Naruto it’s more…” Visceral. “If it was meaningless, it would’ve ended sooner. Had it meant nothing…” He pauses. “It’s led to such an outcome so far… I hurt those that make me care. It wasn’t as simple as my goals, keeping me apart from either of you.”

“Good thing he’s the strongest person in the world,” she says, offhanded. “Well, other than you.”

Sakura’s sure his face has the faintest blush. “He can manage it, you mean?” Manage the monster within him, lurks there in the inference. The monster he is can grapple with his. They’re the only people who can sort each other out. Their fight proved that. 

It’s something of a consolation, despite his loss, that maybe Naruto needed it as much. To get it out of his system, too, the rage and resentment, the twinned heartache and solitude. Sasuke could take him, his on. There’s not a single matter they don’t complement one another, that they’re not the dyads they learned they were.

“He shouldn’t have to.”

“No, he shouldn’t.” 

They leave it at that. She has faith, a duplicate of Naruto’s, that it’s done with. The likes of him won’t fall back into the fallacy. 

Sasuke can’t take hers, either. Her healing hands are null for the festering wound in his chest, the one he’s had since whatever memories he’s repressed or misplaced subconsciously. He’s impatient for a further interaction with Naruto, to force him to mend the lesion he’s widened.

 

---

 

The medicine works, because he finally finishes a meal. Along with the daily dose, Sakura brings him a number of books to entertain himself with. None of them are to his tastes.

Nevertheless, he sifts through them until he’s interrupted by a visitor. In lieu of the door, he uses the window.

Sasuke’s peered at the city on the other side of the panel, recognizable, not as a possession, but an affliction he ran from on purpose. Afterwards, he would attempt to reestablish his strict regime, mostly to concentrate elsewhere. The lamplights on the buildings were an ugly brightness he’d felt like an animal in captivity underneath. Pain could be tamed by comparison, and though he could balance on one arm no problem, his body was too weak to do anything. He hasn’t ventured to look out it since. The nausea has begun to lessen, and that resuscitated it.

Kakashi settles in right away. “It’s official,” he imparts to him, tone level as ever. “You’ve been pardoned.”

At once, Sasuke straightens his stance, vigilant. Despite that, he doesn’t offer much in acknowledgment. 

He presses on. “Your criminal record has been cleared, as well.” 

Operating in the shadows to sow the seeds of dispute and doubt, the intelligence Danzo pulled the strings behind the Uchiha massacre, regardless of his status as deceased, classified him an enemy of the state. Thus, Sasuke couldn’t be punished for eradicating him.

Apart from deserting, taking out Danzo was his main act of terrorism aimed directly at the nation. It became complicated to credit him with an association to the Akatsuki, considering they’d been disbanded, for there was no remaining members.

The irony is Sasuke stayed somewhat loyal to the Leaf. That’s what Kakashi argued, anyhow. 

It was the elders that warranted the most of a testimony. Tsunade saw for herself his service, and they were furthermore equally influenced by Naruto, even in the face of flagrant evidence otherwise, his belief Sasuke can do no wrong. That the intent supersedes the execution. 

There was no means for a feud on the fact he had the perfect opportunity finish off humanity and didn’t. He released them instead.

Beneath his mask, Sasuke fathoms he’s frowning. He still can’t make himself speak. “However…” he keeps going. “You are not under our jurisdiction anymore, nor obliged to cooperate unless you are inclined. Your assistance was invaluable, and in the future will be appreciated.”

Neither of them are genius conversationalists, it’s the one place their title of brilliance didn’t go. Sasuke contributes his silence. Kakashi nevertheless undertakes it.

“There’s something else,” he says.

“Alright.”

“Tsunade is stepping down as Hokage. I’ll be the sixth.”

“Seems like a conversation you should be having with Naruto instead,” he responds.

“I’ve informed him.” 

At the news of his promotion, Naruto congratulated him, so thrilled he was jumping off the walls. It meant, to him, it was as attainable. 

His natural opposite, Sasuke couldn’t care less.

“This is not relevant to me.” His combativeness declares itself, but it’s an improvement to his resignation.

“It is,” he maintains. “Naruto’s family wasn’t erased by order of the government.”

Sasuke grimaces at him, and although he’s grown up and his features are more defined, it’s no contrast to the boy who used to glare up at him, impolitely refusing honorifics and scorning him as he did any person he talked to.

“That also had to do with mine, didn’t it?” Whatever Obito would’ve been to him, an indirect relative, he was more to Kakashi than he insinuates. This guilt isn’t Sasuke’s entitlement.

“Sasuke,” Kakashi restarts. “A lot of things are more my fault than they are yours.”

“I disagree.”

“You won’t be able to disagree with this.” He plants himself where he can’t avoid him. “I failed you as your teacher.” He hesitates. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Sasuke says it back without a glance.

“I guess I hope I can make it up to you with what I do next.” 

“You don’t owe me anything. I abandoned you the same.” Sasuke spit on what he taught him. He took what was useful to his vendetta and rejected the rest.

“I tried to push you towards us, but it turns out I pushed you in the other direction.”

Sasuke plays defense a while before he retracts to offense. “It means more than you know that you tried in the first place,” he reveals, “I was too far gone before I was even put on your team. If I didn’t have a reason to keep living, I wouldn’t have… That’s another unfortunate truth.”

A labored exhale, a pulse, and another breath. “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“Well, you didn’t fail me entirely. I’m back, aren’t I?”

“That was Naruto’s doing.”

“He’s entrusted to you, so you can take a little responsibility.”

“I can’t,” he replies. “I really am sorry, Sasuke."

“So am I.” 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, ok?” Kakashi implores him for an impossible. “You were misguided, and that’s what I’ll take responsibility for. That’s what I was attempting to convey in the past… Neither of us are so good with words,” he continues. “We have that in common. But… I’m going to keep moving forward. And that’s what I want you to do.” He nearly reaches out, but doesn’t because he senses Sasuke’s trepidation, and he couldn’t bear it if he flinched away from him. “How are you feeling, honestly?” He goes with.

“Everything hurts.”

“I wasn’t asking about your body. Sakura’s got that covered. At least tell me you’ve shown her some gratitude.”

“I have,” he assures him. “I’m as well as I can be.”

“You’ll keep it from Sakura and Naruto, if they were to ask, I know that much… I have a feeling as soon as you’re fully healed you plan to leave. Am I right?”

He glowers. “Why are you interrogating me? Haven’t I been pardoned?”

“Just checking in,” he maintains his intention. “Wondering if I could change your mind how I couldn’t before.”

“I’m never going to live in this place. I’ve barely been able to eat, aware of where I am… They have to have a hint of that.” 

“You were always quite pessimistic,” he says. “Not that we don't have that in common, too.”

The silence returns. This time, Sasuke interrupts it, comprehending he’s not seeking his acceptance, he’s attempting to cultivate a relationship between them again. In some way, that stings.

“You being Hokage… what’s it matter what I think?”

“Believing you’re entitled versus doing it yourself… You’re the one that understands that the most.”

“I suppose,” he concedes to him. “It could be worse,” Sasuke decides on, and it’s so him to go with that and no additional input or feedback. Kakashi’s charmed by his indifference. What’s more is Sasuke carries out a second acuity as fast. “That you can admit you aren’t right about everything qualifies you more than a lesser man that doesn’t learn.”

“Looks like you’ve learned a bit yourself.” He’s glad Sasuke can’t make out the expression on his face. “I’m in no position to say I’m proud of you, but I will say I’m relieved.”

"Why?”

“Why indeed,” Kakashi comments.

“You were right, though, that I’m going to leave… I’ll do my best to cooperate with you, as well… I have some things to settle, but there’s a few I haven’t dealt with yet here.”

Kakashi glances at the book, open at his side. He traces the cover. It’s like the books he favors, but minus the best part, that being the explicit content.

“Sakura’s?”

“She’s trying to send me a message,” he says. “I’d easier settle for the erotica you read. In these they talk around it, but don’t actually get anywhere.”

Romantic as always. For Sakura, it’s not as candid as her prior advances. Kakashi deciphers Sasuke’s annoyance, and his discernment is instant and straightforward. The message she’s sending isn’t about her. 

He suppresses a laugh at the source. Sakura’s perceptiveness, Naruto and Sasuke blind to themselves more than each other is ever so amusing. These students of his never cease to amaze him.

“I bet I have other stuff you might enjoy more than either of those. I can bring them by tomorrow.”

It’s a promise to Sasuke he’s able to keep.

 

---

 

Naruto’s in his room again. Rather than sitting beside him, he’s on the bed with him. “That’s what happened,” he says.

Sasuke forgot whatever story he was telling him, though Naruto’s fine with his disregard. He glimpses at the bedside table, and crawls over him to investigate the stack of books that’s accumulated. Kakashi fulfilled his promise and gave him a few he said he might think he liked, nothing dirty. One of which was the tales of a gutsy ninja hero, however, written by his favorite erotica author.

Sasuke’s read it twice, therefore it’s at the top.

“Hey this is—” 

“Kakashi brought me it.”

Naruto picks it up and flips through the pages. He sits back down in front of him. “Did you read it?” He asks. “I’m named after the main character.”

“He told me that.”

“So?” He stands by.

“So," is all he says.

“What did you think?”

“There’s a similarity,” he doesn’t go into detail.

“Am I as manly and inspiring as he is?” Naruto can’t remember it completely, he finished the book through the blur of tears, the loss fresh, and it hurt too bad to think on.

Sasuke’s been spending too much time with Naruto, resulting in him saying the first thing that comes to mind. “You’re better.”

Naruto loses his brazenness. They automatically shift deeper in proximity.

Soon, the door is ajar and Sakura's welcoming them with the declaration she’s cleared Naruto to go home. She looks at them and takes them in. Naruto’s fingers are on his ankle where his pant leg has ridden up, going back and forth. Sasuke’s hand is in his shirt, holding him in place. They’re not on each others’s laps, but they’re in the range they could be.

She joins them, regardless. They, without any qualms, continue to grab onto one another like either of them will disappear if they let go.

Naruto rambles on and on with his ideal two man audience. He utters something that makes her laugh so hard she snorts, and Sasuke astounds them when he giggles as well, either at her or what he said. They’re both thoroughly enchanted by him, unburdened enough to let himself, so much so he conceals his face, noting their stares, which makes Naruto and Sakura act out even more, trying to get him to do it again.

 

---

 

As soon as he gets home, Naruto enjoys a rest in his own bed. He gazes at the picture of Team 7 he’s always kept beside it, drowsing to the thought they can now take an updated photo. In this one, they’ll all be happy.

The following day, he attends Neji’s funeral with Hinata. 

The ensuing couple of days, he gives Sasuke a break from dealing with him, lonely as he is with seventy two hours apart.

Hinata accompanies him through the center of town. They'd gone for ramen together, and he was enthusiastically welcomed by the owner. They shared some laughs and a second serving, but his mind wandered back to Sasuke, taking him here once he’s out of the hospital, nudging his foot under the counter, and he’d glare at him, maybe complain, except his cheeks would be pink.

Suddenly, Hinata quietly, though casually asks him, “Is there someone special you care for?”

“I care about lots of special people,” he glosses over the meaning.

“Someone you want to be with more than others,” she spells it out for him. 

“Uh…” There’s a bashfulness to his posture as he considers it. “There is someone like that.”

“Are you going to be together?”

“I couldn’t predict that.”

They stop on the road. She stands in front of him, determined. “You’re the one I care about the most.”

She heeds his discomfort, although what he says is, “I’m flattered.”

“I decided it was love, but perhaps I simply admire you,” she explains. “You have a strength I’ve never had myself.”

“You’re plenty strong, Hinata. I might’ve fallen apart without your support more than once.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, but Naruto’s sure he should be apologizing. “I wanted you to know, and to prove to myself I could be brave enough to voice my feelings out loud.”

“You’re satisfied with that?”

She and him relocate somewhere more private, a side road between the main village paths.

“I….” He begins. Apparently his type is indeed a black haired dojustu wielder, but there’s a complication.

“You don’t have to explain.” She conveys an expression she hasn’t previously. Insight or presumption.

“I do… It’s not that you’re not great and everything…” comes his incredulousness. He reaffirms his rejection. “Everyone deserves someone that’d put them first, right? And I… In my case that role is already occupied.”

“It’s ok. I didn’t expect you to feel the same. I’m not even sure I understood it right. I’m being inconsiderate,” she admits. “Telling you that was more for me than you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You projected your feelings out to everyone during the war. Are you aware they center around one person in particular?” She suggests it forthright, owing him the reassurance. 

Sasuke, Naruto, there’s no disparity.

“That’s not what I meant to happen.” His face is red, and she tries not to be endeared. He covers his mouth, looking away, muffling his voice. “Does that mean everyone knows I’m…”

She shakes her head and raises her hands. “I came to the conclusion only because… I’ve attempted to hit on you many times over the years, and you’ve never given me much back. Not that you needed to! I had to confirm whether I made it unclear or I—”

“You made it clear.” She’s confessed to him more than once, he just couldn’t return the feelings. He was too hyper focused on his goal. Currently, he can neither return them as that very goal awaits him at the hospital. “It’s only that I was made the way I was.” For no one else but him.

“I’m happy. I’m happy for you,” she says. Naruto can tell she means it. “You finally got him to come home.”

“He’s my home as much,” he says.

They start walking again, and he walks her back to the province reserved for the Hyuuga lineage. She hugs him and tells him good luck, to follow his heart and expose himself for the chance it is genuine.

On his walk home, he ponders that what Sasuke is to him is special. 

Later, he’ll have to thank her.

 

---

 

Succeeding sunset, Naruto’s bursting into Sasuke’s room with a slight increase to his ordinary energy and pushiness. In truth, he’s outdoing himself.

Body sluggish, Sasuke stands up to meet him where he is. The urge to provide him how much he means to him multiplies with Naruto there, before him. “Once I’ve regained my strength, I intend to be off… Take a journey on my own where I can solve what I haven’t yet.”

“I sort of expected that, but I’d be lying if I told you I’m not disappointed.” He scrunches his face up. “Wherever you go, I feel the same way. You’ll never be alone while I exist.”

“I believe you. It does remain unclear what you hope for out of me.”

“To be together,” he obliviously answers. “You felt it, didn't you? … It was such a rush fighting side by side. I haven’t felt that good since you and I were kids.”

“I don’t mean as ninja’s, or allies… Between us.” 

“I still consider you my best friend,” Naruto misfires, aims elsewhere, and is off target there as well.

Sasuke isn’t placated remotely, and it’s written on his face. “Then, as my best friend, forgive me for one more thing.”

“That depends what it is,” his voice hardly materializes.

Sasuke places his hand on his chest, right above his heart. His expression is detached, and his cheeks are radiantly tinted. Naruto freezes at his reaction with no grounds he can discern.

His breath is hot and heavy as he does what Naruto hasn’t had the nerve to any time he’s come into contact with him over the past weeks. His nose nudges his and he progresses until there’s no space between them.

The pressure is light, cautious. It’s soft though, so soft Naruto’s unsure if he's capable of doing it back. Sasuke's adverse to anything sweet or sugary, but Naruto swears he tastes like candy. Something someone could get addicted to and overindulging might result in a stomachache. 

He tends back the same motion he edged forward. Naruto drives him in a second time, his hand sliding into his hair, unruly from sleep and like silk around it. 

Another divide, and his fingertips outline the side of his body to his fingers. He slots them in between his as they stare at each other, neither making an attempt to express themselves.

They must look similar, apprehensive, a trace of heat visible on their faces.

“What was that for?” He criticizes himself internally for his inability to keep it in.

An apology. A thanks. Just that he felt like it. “Seeing if I’m alive,” he ends up on.

“Did that prove it?”

“My heart still beats.”

“Same here,” he sputters. “Fast as hell.” He immediately forgives his supposed misdeed and swings their hands back and forth beside them.

“Is it fucked up I feel closer to you than ever?”

“No, I feel really close to you… Really, really close to you.”

Sasuke parts from him and sits back down on the bed. He looks up at him from his spot. The windowsill reflects the moonlight in his eyes. He can see him clearly, clearer than he has in any other light. 

“Was it hard for you? Waking up originally?” He questions him. “In some ways, I wanted it to be over with. It wouldn’t be so bad if we died together. That’s what you’d been going on about.”

“Let’s live instead,” he responds. “That’s what I was going on about, and will be going on about if you keep talking like that.” He hasn’t retired from lecturing him. “It’s not giving something up, to gain something.”

“What is it I’m gaining?”

Naruto glimpses downward at Sasuke for some time. He settles on the bed ahead of him, one leg bent, one over the side. “Did you misunderstand?” He mutters to himself.

“Misunderstand?” He repeats.

He wasn’t asking him necessarily, the only one in the room. He swallows his panic that he’s slipping away from him already, his eyes downcast. Inside his head, he hears Kurama laughing at him.

You’re the one who misunderstood.

They engage a dialogue. What? Why didn’t you tell me that before?

I wanted you resolve it yourself, kid. That, or suffer his wrath. Looks like even he figured it out first. What are you going to do?

Kurama’s conflicting feelings about the Uchiha bloodline aside, he’s captive within the one whose fixated on the clan’s sole survivor. 

Hey, even Naruto’s internal voice is stuttering, you should probably stop paying attention. I’m pretty sure I’m about to embarrass myself more than I ever have.

His temper inflamed, Naruto blocks him out. I was just making sure we weren’t in danger. 

That's due to his heartbeat at a high, and the tinge similar to anger, although a digression from it. A tumultuous feeling nonetheless.

The danger is at a standstill, for now. All except the complicated sensibilities of a repressed teenage boy.

In that regard, Sasuke has less of a vantage point. Kurama mocking him gets him to concentrate on something else so he can calm down for a second.

Sasuke’s passivity indicates the single voice ricocheting in his mind is not as constructive. 

“You disliked it?” He severs the impasse.

“Disliked it?”

“… I did misunderstand,” he doesn’t flesh it out for him otherwise. Life and love, the distinction there is among them, if any.

He’s blushing the way he did in his youth. There’s a wistfulness about it both tragic and pleasantly reminiscent.

“Assume it was a thanks, and we’ll leave it at that,” Sasuke arrives at a verdict. He averts himself, and he could probably trick someone else that he’s disinterested or untroubled by his decision. Naruto detects his flustered mortification with a transparency only he has. 

Naruto’s always had a certain interest in girls, but in the way they could do things he couldn’t, not in the way of what he could do with them. By profit of seduction, for guys success rates are low, unless they naturally look like Sasuke.

“I’m not normal, either.” He holds his oxygen hostage until he’s ready to liberate himself. “I liked it.”

“You aren’t obligated.”

“I don’t know if I like girls.” As he said, Sasuke is still his best friend, even so, he fears the revelation as it escapes him in his own voice. “After that, I’m less sure.” 

Sasuke’s vitality returns in an instant, and his hand is on his thigh. Naruto glances down at it and back up to him. 

“We’re the same, you’re saying,” he responds, consolidates.

“Is it so unexpected we are?”

“I had my doubts.”

“You’re a skeptic,” he says. “I try to stay positive.”

“Assumptions lead you nowhere.”

“A lack of faith gets you there just as quick.” Naruto touches him, too, positions his hand on his hip. “Should we do it again?”

His eyes burn, and he subtly shuffles closer. “Absolutely.”

They connect and separate. His fingers reposition on his nape, and he slowly slides his tongue in his mouth. It’s messy, and unrefined, and Sasuke does it back, stifling a sound against him. 

He grips his waist, and they disconnect to breathe. They return as soon, with a trail of spit he follows back. 

Sasuke stops and pants over his mouth. “You’re holding back.”

“You’re not as healed as I am,” is his indirect answer. “I definitely couldn’t walk back home right now,” he cues him in additionally.

He reaches down for proof, groping him without a reservation. “Just from me?” He asks, an unusual self consciousness, yet his expression teems with elation.

“Just from you."

Both his arms are bandaged, the rended and the spared. Sakura had briefed him that his wrist was broken. She focused on that in their healing sessions. It doesn’t hurt much, or he doesn’t notice when there’s a more crucial motive stealing his concerns away.

His hand splays over his navel. “Technically, my wrist is broken.”

A technicality. The mention of it can’t be minimized.

“Exactly,” he says. 

Neither of them pull away.

Then, Sasuke smirks at him. “I’ll be gentle,” he swears.

Naruto’s struck with a spell of vertigo. “I’ll be gentle, too,” he swears back, nowhere in vicinity of how reliable he rendered it.

He pushes up his shirt so he can see his abdomen, his muscles, his bruises, what he did. Once he acquaintances himself with it, he slides his hand into his waistband.

Wound in a fist against his cheek, screaming all his agony out and putting it onto him, Naruto sustained it, Sasuke's suffering. It was what he pledged to do for him. His fingers softly encircling his erection, it’s such a difference to the violence his hands carried he momentarily doubts who it is. Naruto looks up at his face, to guarantee it, and a tremor runs through his body.

There’s a strength underneath it, firmness that doesn’t break through full force. His hand is about the size as his, except it’s better because it’s not and belongs to him instead. On him, it’s unlike the fast, ashamed touch in the dark of his government sanctioned apartment, pretending what flashes into his mind those last seconds isn’t the symmetry of an undefined chest, a narrow waist with trail of hair down the center, veins shown through muscled arms and hands. It wasn’t anyone, that was the pretense in his denial. Those were his conclusions from a discourse he had with Jiraya, blurting out in a rage that Sasuke, who he was working hard for, was better looking than any girl he wasted his time and money on, and he told him to never repeat that to him or anyone else for that matter. The stare of repulsion Naruto received his whole life in the eyes of someone he was eager for the approval of was enough to bury it down deep as it could go.

It rushes back to him, the shame of it, the frustration, sharp eyes and a complacent smile, light skin with a stain of color, exerting themselves in their training sessions or a mission gone awry. Plus, that time they were alone and he wrestled Sasuke below him, and he snarled at him to get off while he was red and seething.

Sasuke curses, starting to move his fingers gently as he vowed to. He sighs in relief like it’s being done to him.

Naruto fumbles with his clothes and nudges his hand in his pants, getting a grip around him. There's a second they squeeze each other, assessing the conditions to act upon, almost a confrontational encounter they’re having.

Sasuke’s competitive nature comes out, though Naruto was about to incite him with it if he didn't. “Who do you think is bigger?”

They stagger to pull themselves out, both with one hand to work with. Naruto draws his legs onto his lap so he can push their erections together. Cock to cock, he strokes them before he even cares to check. 

Sasuke watches his hand, also distracted. His is thicker, curves to the left a little, a bit of a different shape, and so hard and flushed, so hot and heavy in his palm, dark hair leading to it, as if pointing him where to go. It’s as beautiful as the rest of him.

“Maybe—”

Sasuke cuts him off with a grunt, bringing his hand over his. “I don’t even care,” he tells him, with his coarse voice and dazed eyes. “It’s equal.”

“Me neither.”

Their combined hands shift, screw up and down. Sasuke sinks his fingers into his shoulder and Naruto moves to lay over him. Against him, he leans his head back, baring his neck.

They grind on each other, Sasuke latching onto his hair, pressing up to him, Naruto kissing his throat, biting it, holding his skin between his teeth.

The sharp edges dig in deep, and Sasuke groans at it but tugs him away. 

“Wasn’t gentle.”

“My bad,” is his weak excuse. He delicately goes over it with his lips, and veers to the other side of his neck, unmarked, sucking on it, keeping his teeth out of the equation. 

They go back to kissing, humping each other, rubbing against each other’s cocks. Sasuke flits the end of his collar with his fingers and buries them in the fabric. He sucks on his throat, skims his nose across the span of his neck and inhales. 

“You smell good,” he mumbles. He has the scent of soap, more of sweat. No doubt he ran here so he’d arrive before visiting hours were over. His musk surrounds him, gets onto his skin. “Was that to impress me?”

Naruto answers him with a kiss and shoves his shirt up, out of the way. Sasuke’s hand creeps back down between them. He gasps and holds them together again. They jerk towards it, the tips dripping. He massages the heads, glides the stickiness down and over them.

His hand around both the bases, he dedicates himself to a steadier grasp, their eyes linked, their bodies convulsing together. It’s not long before they’re both thrusting up into his hand, coming. 

Naruto rolls off of him and they adjust to comfortably lay side by side. He leans over for a tissue and cleans the mess from their hands and stomachs, crumpling it up and throwing it toward the trash. It lands within and he pumps his fist in the air.

Sasuke’s trapped in a stupor of inglorious fondness at his foolishness. It’s a strange, peaceful setting considering the gravity of the act. 

Naruto stares up at the ceiling and begins to ask him, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“I was downplaying it, that we were friends.”

Yeah, that’s why Sasuke kept asking. Naruto continues, “I’m convinced everything will work itself out with you at my side. There doesn’t need to be anything else. It’s not worth it, if you’re not in it with me."

“I’ll tell you a secret of my own… I was into you even when you were way shorter than me and never took a bath."

Naruto sneers at him. “As suspected, you’re as much as a loser as I am.”

Sasuke doesn’t refute it. “There was a time I wondered if that kiss you gave me was on purpose.”

“You didn’t hate it?”

“I only hated you for doing that to me.” Making him… question it. “Unwarranted.”

“Sweet… I never could’ve fessed up that you confused me too… I figured if I could get Sakura to be my girlfriend I’d stop spending every second of my day obsessing over you.”

“I was preoccupied with myself, anyway.”

“So was I, but it all came back to you in the end.”

“Damn, are we dumb or what?”

“We haven’t changed.”

Their fingers brush and his fasten to Sasuke’s. 

“Is having me back as great as you pictured?”

“Even better,” he says. “I saved the prince, and the world, and I’m closer to my dreams than before.”

“Isn’t the prince the one that does the saving?”

“Maybe we’re both the prince.”

“Heh…” He turns to him, his eyes alit. “That’s kind of romantic.”

Naruto turns to him, so they’re facing. They’re both flushed. “Is it?”

“Does your arm also hurt?”

“It’s numb at the moment… I feel nothing except your hand in mine.”

Naruto braces himself for an insult, but Sasuke pierces his heart even more than if he were breaking it. He secures himself on his hand and prefaces by gripping him tightly. “I’m probably in love with you.”

“It’s mutual,” he responds. “We should go on a date once you’re released from the hospital.”

“Us beating each other to hell wasn’t a date?”

Naruto laughs at that. Sasuke laugh at him. “If we get bored, we can go back to beating each other up. That’s a promise.” A stillness dawns. A moment passes, and he remarks aloud, “There's someone for everyone… huh?”

“I’m for you?” He asks, and everything seems to be on fire, the flames he ignites. He discreetly activates his sight so he can retain this forever, Naruto and him, their first real kiss, their first time touching each other. It’s not a memory he’ll have to blank out or outlast. It warrants remembering.

“That is a fact.” 

“No more talking,” he says. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Sakura will be mad if she finds me in here in the morning."

“I think it’s funny when she’s mad.” Sasuke closes his eyes against his shoulder. “You can go home if you’re scared of her, scaredy-cat.”

It’s best Sasuke can’t see the dumb grin on his face and the color it probably is. “I’m shutting up.”

A fortnight earlier, they vied with every hit the other gave. Not merely to beat the fight out of each other, but the feelings, the connection. As if they could take it out. 

Either outcome would've been sacrificing himself. Naruto stopped him from that. Sasuke could bear everyone hating him once he underwent the purest self hatred there was. By his hand, Itachi had become rot in the earth, why should’t Naruto be? With Naruto alive, the love he loathed prevailed.

To be rid of him, extinguish the intensity of emotion he specifically fostered, killing Naruto would’ve been killing himself. The remnants in the aftermath wouldn’t be anything worth a life. 

Coming back wasn’t about the village. It wasn’t duty or compliance. It was about Naruto and Sasuke.

He doesn’t adhere to his own rules. “It’s fine we survived,” he whispers, another secret between them. He’s cementing it for himself as much. “It’s totally and completely fine.” 

It’s not a punishment. It’s a privilege to be alive. It’s a debt he’ll never repay. No, it’s not a debt, but a gift.

They fall asleep, hand in hand.

 

---

 

Midmorning, Sakura is doing her rounds. Going into Sasuke’s room, she happens upon Naruto, stationed on his chest, their hands, the ones they have, loosely intertwined.

She drops her clipboard on the table aside them so it slams down on it. They both dart up, ready for action. Noticing it’s only her, they remorsefully detach.

“You shouldn’t be in here, Naruto,” she scolds him. “Overnight visits are not allowed, especially if it’s you.”

“Especially me?” He frowns. “That’s unnecessarily cruel.”

“He needs his rest same as you did."

“We were resting,” he says. 

“And?” Sakura points at her own throat. “Who was it that bit Sasuke?”

Sasuke hurries to veil it with his hand. “He must’ve already had that.”

“A few weeks ago, you nearly killed each other and now you’re…?” Her voice drifts off. “There’s no words to describe it... I’m not even going to try. Idiots isn’t strong enough… You were truly made for each other.”

“There’s idiots worse than us.”

“None come to mind.”

Sasuke lays back and slings his arm over his face. “You’re both so annoying…” He shrouds a snicker amongst his sleeve. “I… missed you.”

“We missed you this whole time!” Naruto all but shouts.

“Did you? I couldn’t tell.”

“Quit making me worry,” she says. “Is this why you kept fighting for so long? Stupid boys… you couldn’t admit you were this important to each other?”

Sasuke gazes at Naruto, as if he has a better acquittal to equip. 

“We’ll only treat each other nice from now on,” Naruto tells Sakura. 

“I’ll come back from now on.” He exhales, and the tension seems to part from him. “There’s something precious to me here… That sucks,” he derails his discovery, “I’d rather be angry and alone. Couldn’t you have spared me?”

“You should’ve done a better job at killing us. Were you even trying?” She teases him. He experiences a sentiment he belongs with them more than he ever has. 

“It was a matter of chance.”

“Chance? Alright… I’ll accept that.” She examines both their injuries while they’re talking. “I plan to look after you two, whatever it is you do. So stop using each other to kill yourselves.”

Neither of them expect her outburst or her appraisal. Beyond the discord, their mutual suicide would’ve been exactly that, suicide. Whoever won, it would’ve been the same as turning it inward.

“Ok.”

“Yes, Sakura.”

“Shit, this is embarrassing.” 

“We’re all embarrassing. But hey… We’re responsible for this world, so we can live in it however we want.” She unwraps and rewraps Sasuke’s arm. “I’ll support this relationship—”

“It’s not a relationship.”

“It’s not?”

“You said it yourself we have to go on a date first."

“You’re actually agreeing to a date?”

She furrows her eyebrows at them. “Can you wait until I’m out of the room to be gross?”

“He can’t,” Sasuke says for him.

Sakura stands above them, a figure of authority; a medical ninja they’ve been under the care of as much as a friend with their best interests in mind. “Nothing strenuous for a couple more weeks. Nod if you’re listening.”

They’re not. 

“What if—”

“No exceptions.”

They nod.

Sakura finishes up, walks out and shuts the door, sighing, smiling. Everything worked itself out how it should’ve, however unpredictable it was destined to be. She glances to either side of the hallway and brings her hands together, a salute to the gods. 

Behind her, she overhears Naruto's obnoxious laughter.