Chapter 1: hear me breathe through wounded lungs
Notes:
chapter title taken from "better this time" by esme emerson
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sasuke wakes up feeling more dead than alive.
He can feel himself phase in and out of consciousness, his vision fighting a valiant battle against the darkness that threatens to overcome it. Vaguely, distantly, he can register the sensation of needles and tubes injected into various parts of his remaining arm. He’s too exhausted to even note his discomfort.
The hospital room is dim, but as his vision finally clears at an agonizing pace, he can make out the beginnings of sunlight that escape from the shuttered windows.
It’s early morning, then, he thinks idly. With a heavy fog settled over his mind, he watches as the light chases away the shadows that cling desperately on to the surfaces of the walls and the ceiling.
When the first sliver of sunlight reaches him, it makes contact with his hand first, shy, like it’s testing the boundaries of what is and isn’t allowed. He can’t really do much in his current state, but he does manage a slight twitch of his fingers, encouraging the light to continue its path.
Gentle warmth soon envelopes him like a weightless blanket, and he doesn’t allow himself to think about why it feels so achingly familiar for more than a second.
(Comfort is not familiar. Comfort shouldn’t be familiar. He was never afforded the luxury of comfort. Except—)
He allows his eyes to slip shut once more.
He wonders how Naruto is doing in the other room.
. . .
When Sasuke awakes for the second time, he knows it must be well into the morning by now, maybe even closer to the afternoon. No residue of night is left to be found in his daylight-bathed room, which, he realizes belatedly, is only as bright as it currently is because someone must’ve come in after he fell back asleep to open up the windows.
He tries sitting up and immediately regrets his decision when a sharp, searing pain surges up his spine, breaking off and prickling the other parts of his body. The sickening feeling shocks his body into a brief period of paralysis before he regains his senses, and he has to remind himself to breathe lest unconsciousness claims him again.
The panicked spike in his chakra must’ve alerted a passerby. Sakura comes walking through his door in the next second, clipboard ready in hand and expression settled into a sort of practiced professionalism he thinks Tsunade must’ve drilled into her during their training.
As soon as their eyes meet, he freezes: No longer does he see a skilled doctor but a young, twelve-year-old girl standing in her place—one with too much innocence and naivety and hope, completely oblivious to the way the earth would soon crumble beneath her feet.
(He doesn’t think he has the right to continue speculating about how she felt after everything, especially when he made it painfully clear, time and time again, how he doesn’t care about her or her feelings. They were all lies, of course. Sakura, by some miracle, has always found it in her to offer kindness to someone like him, and he doesn’t think he could be any more grateful than he already is to have someone like her still care about him.)
He blinks, and the vision of the young girl dissipates, leaving behind an afterimage. The current Sakura and the old Sakura stand in the same place, their images superimposed, and it’s a bit of an uncanny sight that leaves an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He has to blink a couple more times to finally regain clarity in his vision.
(The painkillers he's on must be affecting him much more than he thought.)
Sakura watches him the whole time—unmoving, unspeaking.
Then, “Sasuke,” she breathes, clearly relieved to see him awake. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” he answers bluntly, honestly, wincing at the rasp in his voice.
Sakura, despite everything, chuckles. She’s likely trying to lighten the mood, and for that, he’s grateful. God knows they’ve experienced enough awkward tension between them to last several lifetimes.
“That’s to be expected.”
She pauses to write something down on her clipboard, likely recording his vitals and other equally important information. He feels himself begin to teeter between consciousness and unconsciousness again and thinks he only manages to stay awake by sheer willpower.
“How’s Naruto doing?” he asks, unable to help himself.
He’s not really sure how long it’s been since their final battle, but it feels like it’s been weeks. He hasn’t been able to see Naruto since they’ve both been admitted to the hospital, forced into isolation in separate rooms. An unnecessary precaution, he thinks, but it's not like he can exactly blame Sakura—he knows that she's the one who arranged for him and Naruto to be separated—for her wariness.
As if completely unsurprised by his question—he doesn’t know whether or not to feel embarrassed by how transparent he can be when it comes to certain things—Sakura simply replies:
“Fine. Better than you, anyway. You know how much faster he heals thanks to Kurama.”
He nods, but the movement is so small and weak he might as well not have done it at all. Sakura probably didn’t even see it, what with her nose buried deep into her notes, but his silence has always acted as a kind of answer in itself. That, at least, he knows Sakura is aware of, even if they were never that close to begin with to be able to list off each other’s quirks and habits.
(Some things are just obvious, just like how Sasuke—)
“You’re doing a lot better,” Sakura interrupts his thoughts, and he brings his attention back to her. “Not great, obviously, but better. I’ll come in to check on you periodically.”
“Thank you,” he rasps, his voice still hoarse.
Sakura allows surprise to color her face for only a moment before it dissolves into fond exasperation, a kind of softness taking over her face and bleeding into her features. No longer is she looking at him like a doctor would their patient but like a friend would their friend.
(Are they friends? Can he call her that, especially after everything? Would she want to be friends?)
“Are you hungry?” Sakura asks a moment later, letting his gratitude permeate the air and touch every surface. He feels a little exposed and like he’s everywhere all at once.
“Could you bring me some water?”
She nods. “I’ll bring you some crackers, too. I know you might not feel hungry, but you should get something in your system.”
He doesn’t argue. Sakura smiles.
When the door slides shut and he’s left with nothing but his own company again, he thinks about how badly he wishes he could see Naruto.
☯︎
A soft knock on his door rouses Sasuke from sleep about a week later.
He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know that it’s the middle of the night because he feels groggier than usual. No nurse or doctor comes in to check up on him at this hour, so he’s instantly suspicious as to who could be trying to disturb him right now.
Then, he remembers.
When Naruto shimmies through the crack of the door, quiet and careful and mindful in all of the ways he rarely is, Sasuke finds his breath stuttering. Silently, he sits up in his bed, bringing a hand up to rub the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Stars burst in his vision, brilliant and disorienting, and it takes several moments before they die out and his vision settles.
He turns to look at Naruto and finds that he’s already looking back at him. His mouth suddenly feels dry, but the glass of water left on his nightstand seems like it’s miles away rather than just an arm’s width.
“Sasuke?” Naruto says, his voice barely above a whisper, and it takes everything in him to not physically react to the gentle way his name is uttered. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”
Somehow, Sasuke finds his voice.
“I wasn’t. You woke me up.”
“Ah.” Naruto brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, sheepish, and it’s such an achingly familiar sight that it has Sasuke’s heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest. He’s so terribly endeared that it makes him feel sick. “‘M sorry for waking you.”
Sasuke huffs amusedly. “Then what were you planning on doing after sneaking into my room in the middle of the night? Watch me sleep?”
He says the last bit half-jokingly, but when Naruto looks off to the side without immediately answering him, he realizes that his friend was seriously thinking about doing that. Whatever subsequent words he had prepared instantly die out in his throat as he watches the unusually bashful behavior of the boy across the room.
He hears Naruto let out a sigh, and it sounds oddly defeated for whatever reason. Spotting a lone chair pushed up against the wall, Naruto goes to move it until it’s situated near the side of Sasuke’s bed. He plops down with a quiet huff, his eyes downcast.
Sasuke can’t stand this. He needs Naruto to look at him.
Flicking someone in the forehead probably isn’t the best way to get their attention, especially when they’ve been in the hospital trying to recover from lethal injuries, but it’s the only way that Sasuke knows won’t fail him.
(That, and also because he doesn’t really trust his voice to not tremble from his emotions right now.)
Naruto reacts predictably.
“Ow! What was that for, bastard?” Naruto yelps, gingerly rubbing the assaulted spot on his reddening forehead.
“What’s wrong?” Sasuke asks in lieu of answering him.
Naruto sobers up immediately. He drops his hand onto his lap, but this time he doesn’t look away. Even though Sasuke was wanting Naruto to look at him not even a minute ago, he finds the intensity of his gaze almost too much to bear now. Still, he grits his teeth and continues staring into those blue, blue eyes.
“What makes you think something is wrong?”
Sasuke rolls his eyes. “Why else would you come and try to bother me in the middle of the night?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see you,” Naruto says, puffing out his cheeks like he’s still a child.
(He thinks about how Naruto still is one—a child, that is. Both of them are. They’re still just teenagers, Naruto having turned seventeen just a couple of weeks ago while Sasuke has been seventeen for a few months. They’re still just teenagers, but they’ve gone through things that more than half of the adults in the world have never experienced—and will never have to, at that.
It makes him feel much, much older than he is, and petulantly, he thinks about how unfair it is for him to feel this way when he’s still so young. He’s sure that Naruto feels similarly, what with going through much of the same experiences as Sasuke himself.
He just hopes that from here on out, they’ll get to act like the kids they never had the chance to be, even if it’s just for a short while. Adulthood is just around the corner after all, and time favors no one.)
“Even you don’t believe that,” Sasuke mumbles quietly, but Naruto still hears him because of course he does. Of course.
(Not once has he ever gone unnoticed by Naruto. Granted, he’s never really gone unnoticed by anyone in his life, what with his entire existence being loud when he himself has never been anything but quiet.
Naruto’s noticing has always been different, though, because while other people noticed the superficial things about him—his raw talent, his unquestionable skills—Naruto noticed everything else about him that Sasuke didn’t think anyone else cared to see.
With Naruto, Sasuke always felt stripped naked, uncomfortably bare in all of the ways he never wanted to be in front of another person. His life as an Uchiha saw more bitterness and hatred than it did sweetness and love, and he was forced to live through not one, not two, but several tragedies relating to the cursed fate of his clan.
There was nothing pretty about Sasuke, yet Naruto made it seem like his life was worth learning about, no matter how heartbreakingly tragic, simply because it was him. It was like all of the ugliness and rot festered in his heart didn’t mean a damn thing to him except for the fact that it was his, too, because Sasuke’s pain has always been Naruto’s pain.
The truth of that still leaves him breathless whenever he thinks about it for too long. Perhaps he has always been a fool if he thought that he could hide anything from Naruto, even for just a second.)
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The hardness of Naruto’s voice causes Sasuke to frown, confused by the sudden change in his tone. It takes him a moment to remember what he’d said to elicit such a response from his friend. Then, he sighs.
“You wouldn’t come in here just to do something as mundane as watch over me as I sleep,” Sasuke says tiredly, aware of just how ridiculous the words sound, but it’s too late to take them back.
Naruto looks straight up affronted now, and in any other situation, Sasuke would laugh at the expression on his friend's face.
“How do you know what I would and wouldn’t do?”
“Because I know you,” he says matter-of-factly, and he has to pretend like the simple truth of that doesn't absolutely crush him, like gravity itself is trying to flatten him to the ground with his own words.
“Then you should know how stupid you sound making an assumption like that.”
Sasuke blinks. Naruto stares at him heatedly, blond eyebrows furrowed and mouth downturned in an unhappy curve, betraying his attempt at nonchalance. Like a coward, Sasuke turns away to look out the window, unable to handle the look he’s being given.
He knows there’s no point in trying to play dumb. In fact, it’s an insult to them both to try and pretend like they don’t know each other as well as they do. As much as it pains him to admit, it terrifies him endlessly—the thought of knowing and being known. Maybe he’s being irrational, but he’s never been one to maintain sensibility whenever Naruto is involved.
(Distantly, he thinks about how that makes two of them. The fact does little to comfort him because even he knows how unhealthy their dynamic can be at times. Codependency and mutual obsession to their degree isn’t really anything to brag about.)
When he turns back around, he’s not surprised to see that Naruto hasn’t looked away from him, though his expression has become muted. Sasuke allows himself to look and be looked at. Naruto takes what he’s given.
“What’s the real reason why you came here tonight?” Sasuke asks after the silence has stretched on for too long.
Naruto sighs. “I really did want to see you,” he says truthfully, and Sasuke doesn’t try to argue with him about it this time. “I felt like it’s been ages since I was last able to see you, even though it’s been, like, one week max. I've just been worried.”
That’s too long, Sasuke almost says, but he catches himself at the last second. There’s no way he’s going to say something as embarrassing as that, especially in front of Naruto. He’d never hear the end of it.
(A cruel voice in the back of his mind suddenly awakens, sneering, You’re the one who left him alone for over three years. You. You have no right to feel upset about being forced apart from Naruto when all you tried to do was keep your distance from him without his say for three years.
He doesn’t even try to deny the voice. He has no right to.)
What Sasuke ends up saying in the end, however, is still just as embarrassing as the words he swallowed.
“Why now?”
Why didn’t you try to come and see me sooner?
Naruto looks a bit taken aback by the question, but he recovers quickly. Unsurprisingly, he’s able to parse out the true meaning of Sasuke’s question.
“They practically locked me in my room and forbade me from seeing you,” Naruto says, and Sasuke tries to not focus on the pout that's appeared on his friend's lips.
The distraction almost causes him to miss the second part of Naruto's words.
Forbade?
“Why?” Sasuke asks carefully, though deep down, he already knows the answer.
“Hell if I know. Guess they were just afraid we’d try to kill each other again or something.”
Sasuke grimaces. Naruto smiles wryly at him.
Then, suddenly, he realizes something.
“I’m guessing you’re still technically not allowed to see me if you had to resort to sneaking off in the middle of the night.”
Naruto chuckles. “Something like that. They told me I’ll be free to go in the morning, though, so I honestly could’ve just waited until then to go see you without doing this behind their backs.”
“What difference would that make?”
“I’d be a visitor coming to see you rather than another patient!”
Sasuke looks at him incredulously. “I don’t think the doctors here give a shit about whether or not you’re a patient coming to see me. I think they just don’t want you interacting with me, period.”
Naruto frowns, going to cross his arms before remembering that he only has one left. Sasuke watches the stub of his friend's blasted limb fall back to his side with a tightness in his chest.
“Well screw them, then. I’d like to see them try to hold me back from doing what I want. None of them would be able to take me on in a fight.”
Despite himself, Sasuke smiles, and the miniscule quirk in his lips would be imperceptible if the other person he's currently with wasn't Naruto. His face muscles are still unused to the action, stiff from years of disuse and clumsy from the unfamiliarity. Lately, however, he finds that smiling comes easier to him, like it’s something he never stopped doing and didn’t have to relearn.
“I’m still not really used to seeing that,” Naruto suddenly says, eyes focused intently on Sasuke’s face.
He raises an eyebrow. “Used to seeing what?”
“Your smile.”
Frustratingly, he feels his face begin to heat up, and he hopes that the two of them are bathed in enough darkness that it makes it difficult for Naruto to notice his flustered state.
“You’re ridiculous,” Sasuke says weakly, because it’s all he can really manage without making himself sound like a complete fool.
“I’m serious.”
Naruto scoots his chair a bit closer then, enough to be able to lean an elbow on Sasuke’s bed. He rests his head in the palm of his hand, his blond hair as unruly as ever, and as Sasuke looks at him colored in blue monochrome courtesy of the moonlight filtering through the window, he has to bite down on the insane urge to brush his bangs out of his eyes.
“Are you sure you’re not sleep-deprived or something?” Sasuke asks, knowing it’s a lame attempt at deflection, but he’s never been good at dealing with emotions, especially his own.
Naruto seems to understand what he’s trying to do because all he does is roll his eyes and push forward.
“Sasuke,” he starts, firm. “You know that I want nothing more than your happiness, right?”
Sasuke swallows. His throat feels even drier than it did earlier.
He is, for better or for worse, intimately familiar with Naruto’s earnestness, his unadulterated honesty. He has been since they were temperamental kids with a greater penchant for picking fights with each other than minding their own business. He has never known Naruto to be anything else than who he is: determined, strong, compassionate, kind.
By now, especially after everything they’ve been through, he knows practically everything there is to know about Naruto. He knows, yet after the words the other boy spoke into the minimal space between them, breathing life into the stale hospital air and revitalizing it like the embodiment of the sun he is and has always been, Sasuke finds himself at a loss for words.
For a fleeting moment, he thinks he might cry, and the thought horrifies him so much that he closes his eyes and tries to calm down. For once, Naruto keeps his mouth shut, watching Sasuke try and fail to keep his breathing steady.
(Why he’s even trying to hold back his emotions when Naruto has already seen the absolute worst of him is beyond Sasuke. He guesses that old habits really do die hard.)
When he feels a gentle hand settle on top of his, it’s only then that he realizes how badly he’d begun shaking. Naruto still hasn’t said anything, and Sasuke almost wishes he would because anything would be more bearable than the silence that’s suffocating him. Its hands seize his throat, making it hard to breathe, and he has to remind himself that it’s only his wild imagination that’s making the situation seem worse than it actually is.
In the end, it’s Sasuke who ends up breaking the silence, much to the surprise of them both.
“You’re such an asshole.”
Naruto blinks, clearly not expecting those words. Sasuke simply focuses on keeping his own breathing steady. He isn’t sure what kind of reaction he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t Naruto tightening his grip on his hand like he’s trying to anchor him to reality. Sasuke clenches his jaw.
After another minute of silence, Naruto lets go of his hand, and Sasuke silently mourns the loss of it—the warmth that he takes along with him.
“I did actually have another reason for coming to see you,” Naruto says, unprompted.
Sasuke doesn’t let the surprise show on his face because he isn’t—surprised, that is. As nice as it would have been to believe that Naruto came here with no other purpose than to see him, Sasuke knows that wouldn’t have been likely. He mentally curses himself for his childish naivety.
“What is it?”
Naruto hesitates for only a second, but the pause is long enough to have Sasuke frowning, unease settling heavily in his stomach.
“Kakashi-sensei came by to speak with me about some things today.”
The uneasy feeling grows tenfold as soon as the words leave Naruto’s mouth. Sasuke doesn’t bother trying to hide his clenched fist.
“Elaborate.”
“I’m getting there,” Naruto says, and he doesn’t look like he’s faring much better than Sasuke, which only makes him confused. “It’s about what’s going to happen to you once you’re well enough to leave the hospital.”
Ah. Of course. How could he be so stupid as to forget what lies ahead waiting for him once he has physically recovered. For a brief moment, he considers telling Naruto to forget about whatever he’s planning to say because none of it would be news to him, but he stops himself before he can get a word out.
He’s denied Naruto of enough already. He might as well allow him to speak when it’ll be harmless.
“I already have a pretty good idea of what’s going to happen to me once I’m out of here, but go ahead and say what you’re going to say, anyway,” Sasuke says flatly. He hopes that whatever expression he’s making isn’t betraying his attempt at indifference.
“Actually,” Naruto starts, “you’ll probably be surprised at what I’m about to say.”
Sasuke raises an eyebrow as if to say, Really?
Naruto looks like he wants to laugh but can’t find it in him to do so. Instead, he offers a smile, but it’s weak and doesn’t reach his eyes like his genuine smiles tend to.
“With Kakashi-sensei being Hokage now, you can probably guess that negotiations about what to do with you have been a lot more, well, biased. Even if he denies it, it’s pretty obvious, but I don’t blame him for being unable to remain completely neutral and detached about this entire situation.”
Sasuke listens carefully, remaining silent and refusing to acknowledge the clench in his chest at the mention of his previous mentor and teacher still harboring affection for him.
“Nothing is set in stone yet, mostly because we wanted to get your input on something before we solidify any decisions we make.”
That gets Sasuke to speak up.
“What do you mean by my input? Naruto, I don’t know if you’ve somehow suddenly forgotten, but I’m a criminal. What fucking worth is my input going to be, especially on something as big as my fate in this wretched village?”
“Calm down,” Naruto says, not looking surprised by his outburst. “I know how it sounds, but just listen to me ‘til the end, ‘kay?”
“Fine,” he acquiesces.
Naruto sighs, and somehow he looks even more tired than he did when he first walked into the room.
“You’re gonna have a trial, obviously. That much was already predetermined ages ago by the elders should you ever come back to the village intending to… stay.”
He watches intently as Naruto’s face morphs into an unreadable expression before continuing.
“The part we—mostly just Kakashi-sensei and I—want your input on has to do with what will be said during the trial.”
“And what is it?”
“We want to expose the elders for being behind the massacre of your clan.”
As awfully cliche as it sounds, it feels like time stops the moment Naruto finishes speaking, and when his words finally register, Sasuke feels more than he hears his own breath stutter. The clock mounted on the opposite wall of him ticks rhythmically, almost mockingly, and the sound is so faraway—muted, like his head is submerged several feet underwater.
From beneath his shaking hand, the sheets of his bed rustle quietly, reminding him once again of his own emotions that he wishes he could control better. He fears that if he opens his mouth in an attempt to respond, he’ll only make a pained sound reminiscent of a frightened, wounded animal. To save himself from the embarrassment, he bites his lip as a precaution.
“Are you going to say anything?”
No. Yes. I don’t fucking know.
He needs to say something. He doesn’t want Naruto to get the wrong idea because he knows his reaction probably doesn’t scream happy, but he is—he’s so, so fucking happy. The thought had never crossed his mind—to expose the elders for their sickening scheme. It didn’t even seem like a possibility because who would care to do such a thing for him?
(He is so unbelievably stupid. There has always been one person who has cared for him this entire time. Naruto would travel to the ends of the earth for him, would die for him in a heartbeat. Doing something like exposing the people responsible for the genocide of his clan probably comes easily to him, like it doesn’t require any extra thought.
It’s overwhelming—the fact that he could ever be cared for to the extent that Naruto does.)
“You’re serious about that?” Sasuke manages to ask eventually, his voice feeble.
He couldn’t care less about how vulnerable he must look right now. Naruto has seen every possible side there is to him, anyway.
“Of course I’m serious,” Naruto says firmly. “I would never joke about something like that. None of the elders are innocent, and they don’t deserve to keep their positions. Frankly, they can all burn in hell, but even that doesn’t seem like a harsh enough punishment for what they put you and your clan through.”
For what they made Itachi do.
He’s crying. Sasuke doesn’t know when he started crying, but he is. He doesn’t even try to hide it when Naruto finally notices and starts freaking out over him.
“I’m fine, stupid,” he says, but he doesn’t move away when Naruto goes to wipe away his tears, gentle in a way Sasuke rarely gets to see from him.
Naruto doesn’t move away even after the tears have stopped, simply keeping his calloused hand up to Sasuke’s tear-stained cheek.
“I’m guessing that these are happy tears, right?” Naruto says, the corners of his mouth upturned slightly, and he’s probably trying to tease him but isn’t able to fully commit to it.
“Yeah,” Sasuke replies quietly. “They’re happy tears.”
“Is that a yes to revealing everything at the trial, then?”
He nods once, firm. Naruto finally breaks out into a full smile, and in an instant, all of his anxiety and fears for the future melts away. It’s been so long since he's been able to see Naruto’s true, genuine smile—the one that reaches his eyes and causes them to scrunch up cutely. In an impressive display of self-restraint, he denies himself the pleasure of reaching out to caress the other boy’s whiskered cheek.
(The mere thought of him mirroring Naruto’s intimate position is almost enough to make him physically recoil, though he's not sure if it would be out of fear or something else entirely.)
“You really are something, Naruto.”
“Hm? What was that?”
“Nothing,” Sasuke lies.
“Aw, c’mon!" Naruto whines. "What did you say?”
Naruto's hand migrates from its place on Sasuke’s cheek to his hand. He fights against the urge to reciprocate the action because he doesn’t think he’d be able to let go of Naruto.
(He also doesn’t think that he’d be able to explain himself to Naruto if asked, which his nosy friend most certainly would.)
“I’m tired,” he says instead, completely ignoring Naruto’s pleading. The other boy seems to realize that he isn’t going to repeat himself and sighs in defeat.
“Scoot over, then.”
Sasuke raises a questioning eyebrow. “This is my bed.”
Naruto rolls his eyes. “Duh. I’m gonna sleep in it.”
“With me?”
“Did you suddenly turn stupid after all those punches to the head you took from me?”
He feels his eye that’s harboring the Rinnegan twitch from the ridiculous accusation.
“This bed is too small for two grown ass men,” he reasons, miraculously keeping the irritation out of his voice.
Undeterred by the truth of his statement, Naruto says, “Whatever! I’ll make us fit. I’m too lazy to go back to my room.”
Sasuke looks at his friend incredulously. “You’re unbelievable. You’re literally right next door.”
“… I can go back to my room if you really don’t want me sleeping with you that badly."
Sasuke can’t help but to notice the sudden hesitation in his movements, the uncertainty in his voice. Even his friend's expression has changed, but it's such a miniscule difference that it would take someone who really knows Naruto to be able to discern in.
(Someone like—)
“You can sleep here, stupid," he finally relents, choosing to ignore the odd and inexplicable feeling in his chest. "It’s whatever.”
Naruto still looks a bit unsure but eventually gives in. Carefully, he settles in the empty space Sasuke makes for him, and just as he’d expected, it’s a tight fit.
“We might have to cuddle for this to be comfortable,” Naruto says calmly, like he hasn’t just suggested that the two of them spoon.
Sasuke is so grateful for the darkness right now.
“Careful, Naruto,” he starts, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. “You’re going to make me believe that this was your entire plan all along.”
Naruto snorts. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not like we haven’t slept together like this at all before, anyway.”
Sasuke almost asks what he’s talking about before a long-forgotten memory resurfaces in his mind: Team Seven had a lot of overnight missions that required them to camp, and they often had to be conservative with the amount of space they took up, so sleeping close together became the norm.
Those times feel like lifetimes ago.
“Just don’t drool on me or I’ll push you off.”
“Oh? You wanna be the little spoon? I thought I’d have to fight you to be the big spoon.”
He doesn’t like the tone of Naruto’s voice. Though he wants to, he’s absolutely not going to turn around because he knows the other boy is probably wearing a shit-eating grin, and he doesn’t think he’d have enough self-control to not throw a punch right to his face if he sees it. He resolutely keeps his gaze forward.
“Don’t let it get to your head. Now stop talking and go the fuck to sleep.”
He feels the exact moment that Naruto relaxes against him. A hand drapes carefully over his waist, and he only tenses for a second before he wills himself to relax. It doesn’t take too much longer before he feels his eyes begin to droop, and as soon as he hears Naruto’s breathing even out, he allows himself to succumb to sleep.
. . .
(The sun is still snoozing when Sakura enters the hospital to clock in for her shift.
The early hours aren’t anything she isn’t already used to, what with having been a licensed medical ninja for several years now, but she still isn’t fond of them. She’d much rather be accompanied by the warmth of her bed rather than the cold, sterile air of the hospital, but she can’t exactly complain because at the end of the day, she loves what she does.
Fighting back a yawn, she greets the receptionist with a sleepy yet sincere smile, receiving one in return. After exchanging brief words of encouragement, she switches to autopilot mode, letting her feet guide her down a familiar hallway.
She thinks it must say a lot about her tolerance toward idiot blonds when she slides open the door to Naruto’s room and doesn’t immediately panic when she realizes it’s empty. It could be the fact that it’s still too early to feel any level of annoyance, or maybe it’s because she truly didn’t expect anything else from Naruto. In fact, she’s only surprised that it has taken him this long to rebel against the No Sasuke rule they gave him when he first got admitted to the hospital.
Sighing, she gently slides the door closed and walks a few paces down to reach Sasuke’s door.
Even just standing outside of the room, her suspicions are confirmed: Sakura can feel the gentle pulse of Naruto and Sasuke’s chakras intertwined, thrumming steadily with life. Truthfully, she doesn’t think she should be interrupting them right now. With how tangled together their chakra signatures are, she’d probably be walking in on a moment that’s too intimate for her eyes.
Huffing in defeat, she steers herself away from the door and starts walking toward her office. She makes a mental note to tell the other nurses and doctors once they arrive to leave Naruto and Sasuke’s rooms alone for a while. As she continues making her way toward her office, her soft footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, she allows her mind to wander.
Where do you see yourself in the future?
If Sakura thinks about that question and tries to imagine how her twelve-year-old self would answer it, she can’t help but laugh.
By Sasuke’s side, she’d say with stars in her eyes, a heavy blush dusting her cheeks. Married and with a family, preferably with Sasuke. Supporting Sasuke in whatever endeavors he may have. Helping Sasuke with whatever he needs.
Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke.
There are countless things wrong with the past, and it hurts to just think about it. She physically aches every time she remembers how blindsided she was as a child. The tunnel vision she experienced was nearly unmatched, rivaled by only one other person, and she hates that it took her almost a decade to realize the severity of it.
She was never strong in the way that Naruto and Sasuke were, but she was strong in her own way. Though their silhouettes were inspiring, they also served as a painful reminder of her own weakness. She was tired of being the only one left behind as if she didn’t have a strength of her own, even if it couldn’t compare to Naruto and Sasuke’s.
She worked hard, trained tirelessly under Tsunade’s ruthless guidance, and cultivated her strength to what it is now. It wasn’t easy, but she’d do it all over again if it meant that she could stand here in the present as the woman she is now.
Still, the irritation and bitterness she feels toward her past self, no matter how unreasonable considering the circumstances, linger like the sour aftertaste of a foul meal.
Naruto and Sasuke have always been different, both as individual people and as a pair. Even before the truth of their unique bond was revealed, of which was a mystery to even themselves, any normal person could recognize the love they share for each other.
When she first learned of Naruto and Sasuke’s mutual feelings for each other, even if neither of them have explicitly said it, it made her realize a few things about herself.
The first and most important self-discovery was that she never really liked Sasuke—at least, not in the way that she believed for nearly her whole life. It’s true that she admired him a lot, much like everyone else did, but her younger self had misunderstood what it meant to admire someone, and she instead equated the feeling to love. As a young, impressionable girl surrounded by like-minded female peers, no one was there to tell her that what she felt wasn’t romantic attraction at all.
The second and equally important self-discovery was that not only did she not like Sasuke, but she didn’t like men, period. That was a much larger and tougher pill to swallow.
Growing up, she never considered the concept of her liking women because homosexuality was a topic seldom spoken about among her peers and the adults in her life, and if it was brought up, it was usually never in a positive light. She may have been young, but even she was cognizant of everyone’s prejudice and bigotry.
Still, just the mere thought of being ostracized and condemned for something like love left her breathless from fear, so she convinced herself that she was in love with Uchiha Sasuke since she was five.
That brings her to the third and final self-discovery: Sakura is, and has always been, in love with Yamanaka Ino. Miraculously enough, Ino feels the same way toward her.
The signs were always there, but only recently did they become clear to her. Again, it pains her to think about the past—all of the could-have-been's tragically lost in the abyss of her fragmented youth as she continued to focus on Sasuke who she so adamantly believed she was in love with.
As the saying goes, however, it’s better late than never.
Sakura would never forgive herself if she continued to live a life built upon lies just so that she could avoid condemnation. Her happiness is just as valuable as everyone else’s happiness.
Seeing Naruto and Sasuke’s relationship ignited a flame of hope. She suddenly had the courage to live her life honestly and do so without fear because she saw how happy her two closest friends were together. She yearned for that same happiness.
She deserves at least that much, she thinks.
When Sakura finally makes it to her office, she closes the door without a sound, not yet turning on the lights. The small space makes it easy to navigate through the darkness, and soon she’s plopping down on her desk chair with a quiet huff, feeling the remnants of her fatigue resurface with a vengeance.
She hopes that Naruto and Sasuke are enjoying their rest together right now. After everything they’ve been through, both separately and together, allowing them a couple more hours alone without any disturbance is the least that she could do.
If she’s being completely honest, she’d let them have anything within reason if it meant that she could continue being by their sides. They’re complete and utter idiots with awful senses of pride and even worse characteristic stubbornness, but they’re her idiots. Even if she’s come close to losing them countless times, she’d take reprimanding them over their childish squabbles over grieving the tragic loss of their lives any day.
The fact that they’re alive is enough. They’re battered, bruised, and missing limbs, but they’re here and breathing—alive. It’s enough.
It’s enough.)
☯︎
November in Konoha brings with it the crisp scent of autumn and the surreality of freedom.
Dead and decayed leaves crunch beneath Sasuke’s feet as he strolls leisurely through town, and it’s such an indescribable feeling—the feeling of being able to walk freely along the streets of a place he used to consider home, even after everything he’s done. Unsurprisingly, people still stare whenever they see or come across him, especially the adults, but he’s always been somewhat immune to people’s eyes on him.
(That’s what he likes to believe, at least.)
He’s more unsettled by the fact that people aren’t showing more hostility toward him, but maybe they’re simply keeping it to themselves—for the sake of their children, perhaps. He wouldn’t be surprised if that’s really the case.
He takes a turn at a corner of a random building and sees a clearing up ahead. Konoha has been under restoration efforts since the end of the war, making it difficult to navigate through town, both because of construction blocking off half of the pathways and because the destruction is so severe it’s made everything unrecognizable. Grouped with the fact that he hasn’t roamed these streets since he was a child, he doesn’t know his way around anymore; everything is uncomfortably foreign.
He reaches the clearing. Despite the unfamiliarity, even he knows that this open field didn’t exist when he was younger. It’s likely a result of the irreversible damage inflicted upon the village during its many invasions, then.
Sasuke keeps walking.
His mind returns to his previous thoughts. He was under the impression that once he was well enough to leave the hospital, he’d be imprisoned immediately until his trial. Courtesy of Kakashi and his status as Hokage, however, he’s been allowed to reside in a non-dehumanizing space for the time being—an actual apartment, which is way more than he thinks he deserves but is still grateful for, nonetheless.
His trial had ended up taking a full month to complete. He supposes it only took as long as it did because of the fact that he had to stay to present his testimony while the elders were tried. Still, a month is a long time. He’s exhausted both physically and mentally, and if it didn’t make him feel grossly unproductive, he’d sleep for a week straight just to recover from all the stress the experience gave him.
He thought that he’d feel happier, though. He is happy, there’s no doubt about it, but the joy and relief he feels as a result of his clan’s antagonists finally getting what they deserve greatly conflicts with the uncertainty he feels with his pardon. It's not like he’d prefer to stay locked up in a prison cell, rotting away as his dignity is stripped from his person and he’s reduced to nothing but another criminal the prison guards have to watch over. Of course he wouldn’t want any of that.
Still, something doesn’t feel right, and the disbelief he feels for even having such uncertainties makes him feel disgusted with himself. He doesn’t think that he could voice his concerns out loud without fearing he’d sound like an ungrateful brat.
(There is one person who would hear him out, though. Someone who’d understand him. He doesn’t want to burden that person any more than he already has, however, so he’s just going to keep silent like he always has when it comes to his emotions—for right now, at least. It’s what he’s always been good at, after all.)
Sasuke sighs, and the sound of his dejectedness gets carried away by the gentle breeze that brushes past him. It plays with the thin fabric of his shirt and ruffles his hair, dancing along his bare skin. He shivers involuntarily, goosebumps erupting in response to the chilling touch.
Autumn is soon to bleed into winter. He’s never been fond of the colder seasons.
His path eventually meets its end as he walks up to a building. He’d been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to where his feet were taking him. Looking up, he has to use a hand to block out the harsh glare of the morning sun, but his face slowly colors in surprise as soon as he’s able to read the words on the sign.
Ichiraku Ramen.
“Sasuke? Is that you?”
He startles imperceptibly at the sudden and unexpected presence of another person. His gaze drops from the sign, and he’s left confused as he looks around but finds no one else around him.
“Up here!” the voice calls again.
He looks back up, this time gazing past the sign. Forgoing his hand for simply squinting this time, it takes a moment for his eyes to settle against the sun’s brilliance, but once they’ve adjusted to the light, he’s left staring at an achingly familiar figure.
“Ah,” Sasuke says dumbly. “Um. Hello.”
Teuchi chuckles good-naturedly. Sasuke feels his face heat up in embarrassment.
“What’re you doing here so early? Are you hungry?” Teuchi asks.
“Ah, I’m—No, that’s not—”
“Stay right there!” Teuchi interrupts. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
When Teuchi disappears from the window, Sasuke is left standing alone at the front of his restaurant feeling severely out of place. He shuffles his feet awkwardly while waiting, kicking up dirt and watching absentmindedly as dust clouds form and dissipate within seconds of each other.
As promised, Teuchi makes his way down a moment later. He isn’t in the uniform Sasuke remembers always seeing him in, but he supposes it’s because it’s still before opening and there’s no reason for him to get into uniform so prematurely.
“I’ll make you a fresh bowl of ramen, so just hang tight for a bit,” Teuchi says, already gathering the necessary ingredients and cookware.
“You really don’t have to,” Sasuke assures, hoping the older man hears the silent plea in his voice.
“Nonsense. You bothered to come by, especially so early in the morning, so it’s my duty as a chef to feed a waiting mouth.”
Sasuke internally deflates. Well, he tried. He isn’t particularly hungry right now, nor has he ever been a big fan of ramen, but he doesn’t want to be an asshole to one of the very few people whose kindness toward him never wavered.
(To deny Teuchi of this one act of kindness, even if it’s just feeding him, feels like a bigger crime than any of the other ones he has committed.)
“… Thank you,” Sasuke says eventually after another minute.
Hesitantly, he takes a seat at the bar. He's suddenly hyperaware of himself but tries to ignore the slight discomfort he’s feeling by closing his eyes and resting his head on the table. Maybe it’ll help if he dissociates for a minute or two.
“Is something on your mind?” Teuchi asks over the rhythmic sound of chopping. Sasuke tries to focus his mind on it, hoping it’ll serve as a brief distraction from his rampant thoughts, but it does little to help. His thoughts are still as loud as ever.
Yes, he wants to say. I have so much on my mind right now that it feels like my head is going to explode if I keep everything contained for another second.
He can’t say that, though. He can’t, but he wants to so, so badly. He doesn't know where the sudden desire came from, but he wants to spill his entire guts out to Teuchi because the mere thought of such an action possibly relieving his emotional agony is enough of an incentive to be vulnerable in front of a near stranger.
Would Teuchi care if Sasuke did all of that? Would he care if Sasuke let the rot infesting his insides contaminate the sweet and savory scent of his ramen shop? Of course he’d care. It’d be selfish of Sasuke. It’d be selfish of him to do such a thing to someone who doesn’t deserve to know his ugliness just so that he feels a little better about himself.
(Would he really feel better, though? Wouldn’t saying the quiet part out loud only serve as a painful reminder of everything he wishes wasn’t true?)
He has always hated this part about himself—his inability to just talk. There have been times where all he could do was spill every single thought echoing in his mind, but those moments are few and far between. His default setting is silence, even if keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself tends to do more harm than he likes to admit.
He mentally curses himself. He doesn’t know what’s worse: having the embarrassingly late realization that he’s always been emotionally and socially stunted or the fact that he’s having such a realization in a goddamn ramen shop.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”
He startles at Teuchi’s voice. He almost forgot that he isn’t alone. Lifting his head up from the table, he finds the older man already looking at him, expression unreadable.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Sasuke says, somehow managing to find his voice.
“So you do have something on your mind?”
It sounds like Teuchi is urging Sasuke to confide in him despite his earlier assurance that he doesn’t have to. He scoffs, though his annoyance isn’t aimed at Teuchi but rather at himself.
“You could say that.”
Teuchi hums. He’s quiet for a moment after that, letting the sounds of his cooking permeate the air alongside the growing aroma of fresh ramen.
Then, “I’m sorry.”
Sasuke startles for what feels like the fifth time that morning. Frowning, he asks, “Why are you apologizing?”
“I’m sorry,” Teuchi repeats, “about what happened to your clan. About what the previous elders made Itachi do.”
Sasuke’s breath stutters at the mention of his late brother’s name. He doesn’t know what he was expecting Teuchi to say, but it surely wasn’t that. Then again, he can’t really say that he’s surprised: The whole village knows about his trial and what was revealed during it. He’s sure that it’s only a matter of time before the news travels to the rest of the country and its neighbors.
“It’s fine,” he replies, grimacing a second later once he realizes how blatantly untrue those words are.
It’s not fine. Far from it.
Teuchi must understand the irony of his words but has the decency to not comment on it. He goes back to his task for several more minutes before speaking up again.
“For what it’s worth,” he starts, “I never once doubted Itachi. And before you say anything, I’m not saying that to make myself look better or anything. I truly, from the bottom of my heart, always believed that he was a good kid with a pure heart. I watched him grow up, after all.
“I just wish things didn’t have to turn out the way that they did. I’ll never forgive those genocidal, power-obsessed bastards for villainizing your people.”
Sasuke swallows with much difficulty. He doesn’t know what to say. Having one person care about him and his wellbeing was already overwhelming enough, but knowing that there are others like Teuchi—people who Sasuke has never even been close to—who would say such kind words to him… It makes him indescribably happy.
In the next moment, a steaming bowl of ramen is placed in front of him. It doesn’t take him long to realize that Teuchi had somehow remembered his order from when he was a child.
“You’re not what people make you out to be, Sasuke.”
Sasuke looks up from his food. He stares at Teuchi with his mismatched eyes, unblinking, and he thinks that it’ll be a miracle if he’s able to make it through the rest of their conversation without tearing up.
“Why are you so kind to me?” he asks, unable to stop himself from blurting out the question that’s been at the forefront of his mind since he’s gotten here.
“Why?” Teuchi parrots, tilting his head in confusion. “Because just like Itachi, I know you’re a good kid. Just because you’ve done bad things doesn’t automatically make you a bad person.”
“How does that make any sense?”
The irritation in his voice is painfully evident. Paired with the unpleasant expression he’s surely displaying, it probably looks like he’s annoyed at Teuchi, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Thankfully, the older man seems wholly unbothered by his sudden change in attitude.
“Good people can do bad things just like how bad people can do good things. If a truly rotten person does one good deed, does that mean that they’re now suddenly a good person?”
“… No.”
“Right. So, if a good person does one, or two, or even three bad things, are they now considered a bad person?”
Sasuke bites his lip, genuinely taking his time to think before he answers. He wants to say that No, it doesn’t mean that they’re a bad person, but he can’t find it in himself to say it with his whole heart because he knows who Teuchi was thinking about when he asked that question.
Logically, it doesn’t make any sense. He wants to believe in Teuchi’s words, but how could someone like him be considered a good person after all of the bad things he’s done?
(God, he'd laugh at the choice of words if it wasn't wildly inappropriate considering the situation. Defining his past actions as just simply being bad things is such an understatement.)
Eventually, Sasuke comes to an answer.
“I think…” he starts hesitantly, “I think that it depends. It’s all about perspective. You have to consider context, too—the person’s background, how they grew up, et cetera.”
Still, it takes a lot less to become a bad person than it does to become a good person.
He keeps that thought to himself.
“I was hoping you’d say something like that,” Teuchi hums. “The truth is that not everything is black and white. Life is incredibly complicated, and the concepts of good and bad require nuanced discussions. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
He isn’t completely sure, but he nods, anyway.
“I’m not saying that people can’t change,” Teuchi continues, “because they can. Whether such change is acknowledged, however, is completely dependent on the people around them and what those folks consider to be worthy of their acceptance. It all circles back to subjectivity.”
“Some things are indisputably objective, though,” Sasuke cuts in, further driving the momentum of their conversation.
“That’s true,” Teuchi agrees. “But like you said, it’s all about perspective. Most everyday things that the average person does in their life can be simply categorized as good or bad, no?”
“I guess,” he says, frowning.
Teuchi sighs, and for some reason it sounds like he’s releasing years’ worth of stress through that single exhale alone. He brings a calloused hand up to scrub at his face, weathered from old age and something else entirely that Sasuke doesn’t think he’d be able to stomach knowing.
When Teuchi speaks again, Sasuke automatically braces himself for what he knows might completely break him.
“I’m probably making this sound more confusing than it already is. What I’m trying to say is don't beat yourself up over your mistakes, Sasuke. You’re human, and no human is perfect. No human has ever been perfect. You have more than enough time to learn and grow.
“I know that there are people who may always hold a grudge against you despite knowing the truth, but there are also those who are willing to listen, learn, and put aside their prejudices. Those open-minded folks are the ones you should be focusing on.
“Of course, I’m not saying that you have to accept anyone in this village at all, kind or not. Frankly, I think that’d be more than what we deserve from you, but don’t let my words sway you into thinking a certain way.
“More than anything, I just want you to be kind to yourself, Sasuke, but I know that isn’t always easy. If, after some time, you’re still unable to forgive yourself, then journey out beyond the walls of Konoha. Meet new people. See the world with the clarity you now have. Maybe then you’ll find the courage to forgive yourself.”
Sasuke’s ears ring in the silence that follows Teuchi's speech. Horrifyingly, he thinks he might already be crying, but he hesitates to check in fear of making the entire situation more real than it already is. Instead, he lowers his head, his bangs curtaining his eyes and acting as a shield from the older man.
Fortunately, Teuchi doesn’t say anything more, likely having exhausted his words in his speech, and for that, Sasuke is grateful. The quiet helps to calm him down, if only a little.
When he feels okay enough to look back up, he finds that Teuchi has busied himself with another task, likely taking the hint that Sasuke doesn’t exactly want to be bothered anymore. He's allowing him some time to ponder, perhaps. It seems that Teuchi's kindness truly knows no bounds. Sasuke could never begin to understand it.
Steam wafts up into his nose and reminds him of the food that’s waiting for him. Grabbing a pair of chopsticks, he uses his teeth to help separate them in the absence of his other arm. As he eats, he considers Teuchi’s words carefully.
A journey, huh…
☯︎
“What?”
Sasuke tries his best to not wince at the volume of Naruto’s voice.
“I said—”
“No,” Naruto interrupts, “I heard you the first time. I mean—why?”
“I told you why,” Sasuke says, sighing. “It’s a journey of atonement.”
(He very pointedly does not mention the fact that his leaving the village also has to do with the growing discomfort that’s been accumulating the longer he stays in Konoha. Just the mere thought of remaining here makes his skin crawl; the feeling is getting unbearable.)
Naruto couldn’t look any unhappier than he does currently, Sasuke thinks. He knew the other boy would react negatively to his decision, but it seems that knowing in advance did little to prepare him for the odd sense of guilt he feels. He’s not sure whether or not it’s misplaced but decides that it’s better to not dwell on it for now lest he starts overthinking.
“All of your crimes have been pardoned, though,” Naruto starts, and Sasuke almost wants to interrupt him before he can continue any further. He ends up staying silent. “You’re a free man, Sasuke. You’re allowed to stay in Konoha. All of the previous elders who made your life a living hell are gone now, too!”
“I know that.”
“Then why—”
“Naruto,” Sasuke interrupts, firm. “I need you to listen to me.”
Naruto huffs petulantly. If Sasuke wasn’t his current self, then he would’ve snapped at his friend by now out of irritation. He’s different now, though. Well, he’s trying to be, at least. That’s another big part of why he’s leaving in the first place—to learn and relearn everything there is to know about life and humanity.
He just needs Naruto to understand that.
“It’s not like I’m not aware that I’m… welcome here,” he starts, and the words feel awkward on his tongue—foreign, clumsy, unused. “It more so has to do with the fact that this place doesn’t feel like a home to me anymore.”
That’s not quite true, he thinks. I don’t think this village was ever really home to me in the first place.
Despite feeling a bit bad for withholding part of the truth from Naruto, Sasuke doesn’t think he could bear to see the look on the other boy’s face if he revealed that information—the fact that Konoha has never been home to him and won’t ever be, even once Naruto becomes Hokage.
The past will be left in the past, but that doesn’t mean he's willing to let all of his hurt and pain and grief scab over, healing his wounds until it’s like he was never harmed in the first place. He doesn’t want to forget, even if remembering hurts. Maybe he’s being hypocritical, or maybe he’s just a huge masochist, but the thought of leaving the past behind to be forgotten doesn’t sit right with him.
His people don’t deserve to be forgotten like they never existed in the first place.
(Though, really, it may be impossible to force that narrative so long as he still lives. He may be just one person, but even his singular existence is enough for the Uchiha to remain indisputably alive.)
“Besides that," he continues, "I… I missed out on a lot of things in the past several years. I overlooked them even more. I want to see what the world has to offer beyond Konoha, and I want to see how I can make a positive change on it with this new version of myself. Staying here won’t allow me to achieve that.”
He takes a deep, steadying breath after he finishes speaking. He’s not really sure if he was able to get his point across well, but he tried his best. Naruto still hasn’t said anything since he's stopped talking. In fact, he’s not even looking at Sasuke—refusing to, maybe. He doesn’t hold it against him.
“How long?”
Sasuke startles a bit, blinking owlishly. Naruto is finally looking at him again, and he can’t help but notice how his friend's eyes reflect a newfound resolve. Resolve for what, Sasuke isn’t sure, nor is he sure how he even knows what the look in Naruto’s eyes is, but their ability to wordlessly understand each other has always been an inexplicable phenomenon, even to them.
“Huh?”
“How long will you be gone?” Naruto clarifies, face deceptively impassive, but his eyes are still bright—burning with that unknown resolve Sasuke discerned earlier.
Still, it makes his body tense up slightly in discomfort to see the most expressive person he knows somehow manage to put a leash on his emotions.
“I… don’t know,” he admits. “You can’t really put a timeframe on this kind of thing.”
Naruto’s previous anger has long since diluted into murky sadness. His shoulders are slumped and his eyes are back to being downcast. Sasuke knows defeat when he sees it, but perhaps it’s a bit dramatic and cruel to call what Naruto is feeling defeat. He wasn’t trying to win anything in the first place.
“Will you write to me, at least?” Naruto asks a moment later, a bit hesitant.
Despite himself, Sasuke smiles. It’s a tiny, barely-there thing, but he knows it means a lot to Naruto whenever he shows the smallest bit of vulnerability. It tells him that Sasuke trusts him, even without words.
(Not that Naruto should need such validation, he thinks. It should be embarrassingly obvious just how much Sasuke trusts him.)
“I guess I could do that.”
“You guess?” Naruto says, affronted. “That’s the least you could do for choosing to leave me behind again, bastard!”
“I’m not leaving you behind,” Sasuke interjects quickly, not wanting Naruto to get the wrong idea stuck in his head. “I’ll come back. I… just don’t know when.”
“Will you come back to visit? Even for just a little?”
“You sure are asking a lot out of me.”
Naruto rolls his eyes. “Yes or no?”
“… I’ll think about it.”
For the first time since their conversation started, Naruto smiles, and it’s wide enough for his eyes to be affected by the action. Sasuke will never admit it out loud, at least not to the person in question, but he really does love Naruto’s smile—its unabashedness, its genuinity, its warmth. Just the mere sight of it feels like it’s enough to melt the layers of frost over Sasuke’s heart.
The truth of that should be terrifying, but it isn’t.
“It’s settled, then!” Naruto exclaims. “You’ll write to me and come back to visit from time to time. You have to promise.”
“Promise? Are you twelve?” Sasuke asks in disbelief, skeptically eyeing the pinky Naruto is shoving in his direction.
“Stop being such an asshole and bring your pinky out.”
He clicks his tongue in partially feigned annoyance and does as he’s told, albeit begrudgingly. When they lock pinkies, Naruto lightly pulls on Sasuke’s hand to reach for his thumb, making them connect.
“There. You can’t break your promise, ‘kay? Or else I’ll come and find you to beat your ass,” Naruto threatens.
Sasuke raises an eyebrow at that but decides to not comment on it. Unfortunately, Naruto isn’t bluffing.
“Yeah, yeah. I promise.”
“Good.”
They let go of each other. Sasuke silently mourns the loss of contact, immediately reprimanding himself afterwards. He’s not going to be able to see Naruto, let alone touch him, for an indefinite amount of time. He needs to start getting used to his absence now.
(He has no idea how he managed to be away from Naruto for three consecutive years.)
“Well,” Naruto starts, a bit awkward all of a sudden. “When are you, uh, planning on leaving?”
“Within the next couple of days. I don’t have much to pack, anyway.”
“… Right. I guess you don’t need help with packing, then.”
Sasuke notes the odd look of disappointment on Naruto’s face. Then, because he really, really can’t help himself and has absolutely zero self-control when it comes to the other boy, he says his next words with a very evident smirk etched on his face.
“Are you going to miss me that much?”
Naruto’s reaction is immediate and laughably predictable.
“M-Miss you?!” he squawks. “What the hell are you going on about?!”
“It just seems like you’re so sad about me leaving,” Sasuke teases.
“You—” Naruto cuts himself off to take a deep, steadying breath. Once he’s calmed down considerably, he tries again. “You really are the biggest asshole I know.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s not a compliment!”
“Get out so I can pack without any distractions,” Sasuke says then, quickly realizing that the longer Naruto stays in his apartment, the longer his friend is going to prevent him from getting his things together for his journey.
“Oh? I’m a distraction to you?” Naruto asks, annoyingly smug for whatever reason. Sasuke feels one of his eyes twitch.
“Yeah, you’re a distraction,” he huffs. “You’re loud and obnoxious and annoying and—”
“Okay, okay,” Naruto cuts him off, pouting. “I get it.”
“Oh? You actually get something for once?”
“Fuck you!”
☯︎
(Dawn is awake to greet Sasuke when he leaves.
News of him leaving Konoha only reached the ears of Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi because they’re the only people that he can wholeheartedly say he cares about, even if he used to vehemently deny such affections.
They keep the goodbyes and farewells short and sweet. No tears are shed because they’re past that, and he isn’t leaving forever. He makes sure to emphasize that to Naruto and Sakura especially.
Kakashi doesn’t say much beyond wishing him well on his travels. Sasuke wasn’t exactly expecting the man to be sentimental about him leaving in the first place, so his brief words are to be expected.
He studies the faces of the three people in front of him carefully, committing their features to memory. If he allows himself just this once to be honest with himself, these people are probably the closest to family he has at this point in time. He tries to not get visibly embarrassed by the sappy thought, but he thinks he does a poor job at concealing his emotions if the questioning look that Naruto sends his way has anything to say about it.
Sasuke shakes his head as if to say, Don’t worry about it.
Then, like an unwelcome visitor, doubt barges in, kicking down the door that is his ribcage and making itself at home inside of his fragile, fragile heart. There’s uncertainty about whether or not he should really be leaving them behind, no matter how temporary, because these are the people who’ve helped him get back up on his feet when no one else bothered to even look his way.
He isn’t usually one to question his decisions, nor is he one to go back on his words, but being a human with human emotions is a cursed thing. He would almost call it a handicap if it didn’t make him sound absolutely ridiculous.
Naruto must sense his hesitance because he takes a step forward then, coming closer until he’s within reach. With a gentle and warm hand on Sasuke’s shoulder—warm, always so warm—he lightly pushes him forward.
Go, Naruto’s eyes tell him, inexplicably bright despite the absence of the sun to reflect in them. Go. Don’t look back.
Sasuke allows himself another moment to take a mental picture of the other boy’s face. He’s going to miss him dearly.
Naruto seems to understand why he’s stalling, but out of the two of them, he’s always been the braver one. So, he pushes Sasuke again, this time with slightly more force, urging him to leave.
Sasuke stops stalling. He goes.
We’ll be right here when you return. You’re not alone anymore. You’ll never have to be alone anymore.
This village may not be a home to you, but I hope that I’m enough of a reason for you to want to return to it, anyway.
Does that make me selfish?
He keeps going.)
Notes:
i hope that you liked the first chapter! i was just kind of going with the flow while i was writing, which is what i usually do when i write any story ever (lol), so sorry if it felt random at any point. lots of (hopefully) fun stuff is coming up though, so i hope you decide to stick around <3
as always, kudos and/or comments are much appreciated :)
p.s., i swear i wasn't projecting when i was writing sakura's part. i swear. really. i just hc her as a lesbian who suffered from severe comphet ┐('～`;)┌ (try not to do that with every female character in shounen who's doomed to have their entire character revolve around their crush on a man challenge: failed.)
p.p.s., i'm posting this when it's already sasuke's birthday in japan, so happy birthday to that crazy guy. i love him a normal amount.
Chapter 2: nobody knows what it's like to be us
Notes:
chapter title taken from "spring into summer" by lizzy mcalpine
first and foremost, we are going to pretend like i didn't immediately break the promise-not-promise i made in the first chapter's a/n, which had to do with me updating this fic once a week. it's been almost a whole month. i'm so sorry.
the good news is that this chapter is 22.5k words!! wow!!! that is practically double the length of any other chapter in this fic, most of which don't go past 15k words. though unintentional, i hope that the sheer length of this chapter is good enough compensation for having to wait longer for an update :p
to anyone who decided to pick up this fic since the first chapter—thank you! if you're new here, i hope you decide to stick around to see how i end this bad boy :)
thank you again for waiting, and i hope you enjoy reading!! ♡(｡- ω -)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dear Naruto,
Not much has been happening on my travels so far. I visit towns, help some locals with simple, mindless tasks, try new foods, sleep, and repeat. It might sound a bit boring, but I like it. It’s a routine that I’ve gotten quite fond of.
I’ve heard from Kakashi that you’ve begun interning with him. You’re not causing him too much trouble, are you? He doesn’t need any more gray hairs than he already has. (Does that saying even work for someone who’s always had gray hair?)
I’m still not sure when I’ll be coming back to visit, but I’ll let you know when I decide to return. Stay out of trouble.
Best,
Sasuke
. . .
Dear Sasuke,
Your journey so far sounds nice. I know I would much rather be traveling around the world and trying new foods than whatever hell Kakashi-sensei is putting me through. Did you know that being Hokage requires a shit ton of paperwork?! If I had known, I would’ve never wanted to be Hokage as a kid! (That’s a lie.)
I’ve been a very pleasant intern, thank you very much. Kakashi-sensei loves me, even if he pretends I’m a nuisance. Also, I don’t think that saying really works for someone who was born with gray hair. Maybe point out his wrinkles instead. (Does he even have any? I don’t think he’s that old yet. The gray hair makes it hard to tell.)
You better keep your promise! I’ll be here waiting for you when you return. You don’t have to worry about me getting up to no good. (I’m basically an adult now, you know!)
Sincerely,
Naruto
p.s., What do you say we try one more time to see what’s under Kakashi-sensei’s mask? Third time’s a charm, right? Sakura recently became curious about it again, too. It’ll be the three of us up to shenanigans again, just like when we were kids.
. . .
Dear Naruto,
Sorry for my late reply. I got caught up in some things.
You’re probably just being dramatic. Also, I did know that being Hokage requires a lot of paperwork. It’s what being a politician entails, idiot.
What makes you think I’m interested in seeing what’s under Kakashi’s mask? We’re not kids anymore. He probably just has a regular face.
Make sure to tell me how interning has been in your reply. I need to make sure you haven’t died from all the reading you’ve surely been doing.
Best,
Sasuke
p.s., I lied about the mask thing. I’m still curious about what his face looks like.
. . .
Dear Sasuke,
My fault, Mr. I-Know-Everything. (I can somehow clearly hear your voice calling me an idiot, even through these letters. What’s up with that?)
My internship has been going great! There’s definitely a lot of reading, but I’ve been learning a lot. Kakashi-sensei was kind of strict at the beginning, but he’s become more lenient whenever he catches me dozing off during our lessons (oops). I don’t think I’ve studied this hard ever (not even for the Chūnin Exams!).
I knew it! I knew you were curious about Kakashi-sensei’s real face! You can try and act all nonchalant all you want, but I know you. Sakura and I will start scheming so that once you return (which I hope will be soon) we can mess with him.
Hope to hear from you soon. Your last reply was pretty late. You’re not getting into any trouble, are you?
Sincerely,
Naruto
. . .
Dear Naruto,
I’m coming back. See you soon.
Best,
Sasuke
☯︎
Konoha is as familiar as it is foreign when Sasuke takes his first steps back into the village after a year and a half.
The first thing that he takes note of is how different the village looks: The streets are less rugged and broken—direct consequences of the war almost two years ago. Many homes, shops, and restaurants have made admirable comebacks, though there are still a considerable number of residences and establishments that have yet to be restored. Still, it’s better than nothing considering they all used to be tragic piles of ruined concrete and broken glass.
Overall, Konoha is in a much better shape than it was when he was last here. He guesses that he shouldn’t be surprised to see how much of it was able to be rebuilt in the time that he’s been away, but it’s still jarring to see the place he grew up in be practically unrecognizable.
(More unrecognizable than it was the last time, at least.)
Despite having sent a letter to Naruto in advance to let him know of his return, Sasuke kept his exact arrival date to himself. He also made sure to arrive at night to attract the least attention because dealing with the village’s civilians immediately upon his return didn’t exactly sound appealing.
As Sasuke ambles along the quiet streets of town, his muscles aching in exhaustion, he notes the surprising lack of unease in his gut. He doesn’t automatically assume that it means he’s suddenly grown comfortable being in Konoha because he hasn’t. Truthfully, he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He just knows that if his promise with Naruto didn’t exist, he’d still be out in some faraway land, miles and miles away from the village and its suffocating walls.
(It feels like a lie—telling himself that he’s only visiting because of a promise he’d made with a friend. Admitting that he willingly came back because he missed the presence of a certain someone is too much honesty for someone like him though, so he’ll gladly accept the excuse he made for himself to protect his peace.
As much peace as someone like him can have, anyway.)
Still, he’d thought that his time away from Konoha would lessen the grudge he has against it, if only a little. Deep down, buried beneath layers of resentment that’ll likely never expire, he’d even call that little feeling hope. He’d hoped that his feelings toward Konoha would change. It’s not necessarily because he thinks the village doesn’t deserve his ire but because it’s exhausting maintaining his negativity for so long.
Sasuke doesn’t want to be an angry person anymore. He was never made for anger. Anger is what ultimately destroyed him to the point where he’d nearly died—multiple times. It had left him to rot and fester like an infection, his sanity so beyond compromised that he couldn’t even differentiate his own desires from what society expected of him anymore.
He didn’t know anger until he did, but by then it was too late; the feeling was all-consuming. He was scared, terrified, but he could no longer afford the humanity he’d chosen to abandon in the name of revenge.
All he was left with was overcharged emotions and no other outlet to direct his feelings toward other than the very people who caused his suffering in the first place.
(All of that isn’t quite right, though. It’s true that the name Uchiha was often uttered alongside a sneer, but that’s only because of a prejudiced belief that got too popular in ignorance. Naturally, then, Sasuke’s anger may have seemed like pure, unadulterated rage, inevitable like the laws of nature, but his actions were never rooted in anything else but love—for his brother, his parents, his extended family, his clan.
His people.
If it wasn’t for his love, then his anger would have never existed in the first place. It wouldn’t have needed to.)
Konoha isn’t his home and never was. Knowing its history, it makes more sense for Sasuke to think that than for him to simply forgive and forget. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever be able to love the village, but he can at least find it in himself to appreciate some of the people who reside in it, as few as it may be. They don’t deserve to be lumped in with his ill feelings toward Konoha.
Sasuke sighs. He doesn’t know what time it is anymore, but it’d be a good idea to return to his apartment and rest before he passes out while on his feet. Despite being bone-tired, his body protesting with each step he continues to take, his mind is frustratingly awake. Maybe it’s nerves from being back, or maybe it’s because he’d become a bit of an insomniac while on the road.
Either way, if he goes back to his apartment now, he’ll only be lying in his bed, painfully awake and mind-numbingly bored while staring up at his ceiling.
(He’d also have no choice but to confront his hyperactive thoughts, and that is definitely something he does not want to do. He overthinks enough during the day already.)
Sasuke’s feet begin to slow down when he starts to recognize the area. The buildings are decrepit, some of them barely standing on their foundations while the rest are completely in ruins—sad, broken heaps of wood, concrete, and glass. Flora overtakes the rubble in a twisted kind of beauty that is reminiscent of post-apocalyptic scenery. It’s a desolate place, hauntingly so.
The entire area is damaged beyond recognition, yet it looks as if it’s remained untouched for years, like the harm inflicted upon it was never something worth treating. The stench of despair and grief is pungent here, and there’s hurt in every broken block and rotted garden and overgrown path. If he focuses hard enough, he can even see the tears that stain every inch of this abandoned area.
(And the blood—there’s so much of it. It’s everywhere: on the dirt paths, the homes, the shops and restaurants, the corpses, his own body—)
Sasuke stops walking and slowly surveys the area with an emptiness he hasn’t felt since he was seven.
He’s standing at the center of the old Uchiha compound.
Though he might be doing a good job at controlling his emotions on the outside, his heart is trembling inside of his ribcage, like it can’t help but to react at the sight of its old home. It’s been a few years since he’s last seen the compound, let alone step foot in it, and he contemplates with himself now whether or not he should continue walking forward or turn back around and try to pretend like his feet didn’t subconsciously guide him to the only place left in Konoha that he’d dare to call home.
(Is he allowed to say that? Would it be too hypocritical of him to think of the Uchiha compound as home, especially after fervently rejecting the idea that any part of Konoha could still be a home to him?)
In the end, he decides to be brave for once. Without looking back, he allows his feet to continue onward.
It’s absolutely unsettling. It feels like he’s walking through the compound for the very first time again the night right after the massacre, like he’s somehow traveled back in time and is currently reliving his nightmare in his seven-year-old body. If he closes his eyes, he can still recall the details of that night in startling clarity, forever etched in his mind like a cruel reminder: the paths littered with corpses, the homes tainted with the blood of their owners, the confused yet terrified screams mixed in with the pleas for mercy.
Most of all, he could never forget the haunting silence that followed after the last victim was finally killed.
The Uchiha compound became a cemetery after the massacre, even if no bodies remained in the area itself, transported to a place he doesn’t even want to imagine. Still, it doesn’t erase the fact that the spirits of everyone who once lived here remain, unable to part with the only home they ever knew, even if it betrayed them in the end.
Truthfully, Sasuke doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that the compound has remained untouched since that day. A part of him feels happy, almost relieved, that no hands from the very village that betrayed it in the first place has touched it. The other part of him, however, feels indescribably sad at the thought of no one bothering to take care of it after everything, leaving it to rot in its own tragedy.
(A neglected, unloved child this compound is. Konoha never deserved it.)
In the end, he decides that it’s best that the compound has been left alone all this time. Just the mere thought of the place he grew up in—all of the shops and restaurants he frequented, the homes of his neighbors he often stopped by, his own home—being rebuilt wrong makes him feel sick to his stomach. Even worse is the thought that the compound could not only be rebuilt incorrectly but completely replaced instead.
It’s been over a decade, but the history of the Uchiha still lives here in this very compound, and Sasuke is the only link left to it. The entire time he’d been away from Konoha, the Hokage could have easily made the decision to clear out the area in all its stark misery once and for all—to grow and expand the village in a dual effort to maintain its facade of peace and promote prosperity. Instead, they chose to leave a part of the village decayed, like leaving such a blatant reminder of their wrongdoings would be enough of a punishment for their crimes.
It would’ve only taken a single order for any trace of the Uchiha once living here to be completely erased, yet he walks through the forgotten remnants of the compound that is still very much here despite everything.
Maybe he can’t make up his mind about how he feels after all, but at least there’s no one here to criticize him for his indecisiveness.
(Deep down, he thinks about how he’d much rather have to deal with the anxiety of being scolded for his uncertainty than to not have to worry about it at all.
He isn’t alone with the former, at least.)
It feels like he’s been walking for hours, but in reality, it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. After some more time, he eventually arrives at his old home. By some miracle, it’s one of very few buildings in the entire compound that isn’t completely in ruins, though it’s still irreparably damaged. The roof looks like it’s threatening to collapse in on itself, and the outer walls are permanently cracked and chipped in various places, like all it would take for them to finally crumble is the strength of an ant. The lawn is overgrown and hides the pathway leading up to the front door, which has been suspiciously left open.
(When he defected all those years ago, he doesn’t remember not closing the door. It makes him wonder if the compound has actually seen some visitors in the years that he was gone, though only a few people know where he used to live. There shouldn’t be any reason for anyone to not only willingly come here to the compound but to come to his old home. There’s no valid explanation for that.
Unless—)
The first step that Sasuke takes through the door leaves him breathless. A sudden chill runs across his skin despite him being draped in a cloak and saturated by the warm, summer air. He feels paralyzed, unable to move another inch, like his body is subconsciously trying to protect him from some unknown danger that lurks deep within the depths of his old home. The thought makes him laugh despite himself, the sound clipped and hollow.
The only danger here is himself.
With that, he regains the ability to control his legs, and he ventures further into the house. The rotting wood creaks under his weight with each step he takes, groaning in its age. The paint on the walls is peeling from moisture damage, and he has to fight the urge to leave it alone lest he ends up causing more harm to the interior. The air in here is beyond stuffy, a gross mixture of humidity and dust and decay that makes each inhale almost painful.
Still, he continues walking.
When he arrives at the doors that separate the kitchen from the rest of the house, he finds his footsteps faltering. They’re one of very few doors in the entire house that doesn’t look terribly aged. The wood is surprisingly intact for the most part, and the doorknobs are still functioning, though the metal is rusted and has dulled considerably. Hesitantly, he places his hand on one of the handles, not daring to turn it just yet.
(He’s definitely overthinking, but he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that the doors leading to the kitchen—the birthplace of his every recurring nightmare since he was seven—are one of the only ones to still be in good condition. It feels like one big, awful joke, like the universe hasn’t had enough of being a sadist and can’t resist toying with him, even eleven years later.
The unassuming appearance would trick anyone, but he’s not so easily disillusioned. Perhaps that brand of pessimism develops in a person once they’ve seen the rotten natures of certain people who act purely in their own self-interest.)
Taking a deep breath, Sasuke steels himself for what he knows may trigger memories he’s long since given up on trying to forget.
He pushes the doors open.
As expected, it’s still there: the white tape that outlines the dead bodies of his parents, stark against the deep color of the wood. If he unfocuses his eyes, he can see the silhouettes of the corpses, limp and bloodied—an image that’s forever imprinted in his mind no matter how many times he’s tried to mentally burn it.
It probably isn’t a good idea for him to stay here for too long. Minding his steps, he walks around the crime scene and makes his way to the other side of the room where another set of doors lead out to the backyard.
The engawa is in no better state than the rest of the house is, but it’s not like he was expecting it to be. He sits down carefully, letting his feet dangle off the ledge, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like he’s five again—innocent, happy, whole. He was nothing more than a bumbling younger brother who was always vying for the attention and acknowledgement of his father.
Reminiscing about the normal parts of his childhood makes him feel older than he actually is. He can’t deny that he used to love this place—his home. As scant as they are, he made a good number of happy memories here, and he doesn’t want the ugliness of the past to overshadow the pretty parts of it. That, he thinks, would be doing a disservice to all of the people who made his childhood better simply because they were a part of it.
He’d never want to forget them and their kindness.
There’s a dull, pulsating sensation in his head now, a result of either him revisiting too many painful memories in a short amount of time or lacking sleep. The ache is strangely comforting, though, because it makes him feel undeniably human—a feeling he’s been trying to reconnect with since he started his journey a year and a half ago.
There’s nothing more intrinsically human than the existence of emotions themselves, especially in their rawest forms, and he hasn’t perfected the act of being vulnerable with them quite yet, but he’s gotten much better. He’s at least able to acknowledge them now, though admittedly he’s not consistent when it comes to it.
Still, some steps are better than no steps at all.
Sasuke sighs. His limbs are heavy, and it feels like a massive chore to keep his eyes open. Leaning his head against one of the pillars decorating the engawa, he allows his eyes to slip shut. The sounds of nature are quiet tonight, so he focuses his hearing on his own breathing.
Before his consciousness completely slips away, he thinks about a similar night like this thirteen years ago—one where he isn’t alone, safely tucked away in the arms of a doting older brother, and has yet to discover the cruelty of life or the burden of grief.
. . .
When Sasuke wakes up an indeterminable amount of time later, he immediately regrets his decision of falling asleep.
With bleary eyes, he looks up and notes how the moon is still at its peak, so he must’ve not been asleep for that long. Yawning, he stretches out his neck in an effort to alleviate the stiffness, wincing when he hears an unpleasant cracking sound. He makes a quick mental note to himself to not fall asleep while sitting upright again.
As he reenters his old home to make it back to the entrance, he allows his eyes to wander for one last time, unsure if he’s ever going to visit this place again in the future—if it’s still here, that is. He’s already lingered around long enough though, so he makes it back to the front door at a brisk pace, making sure it’s closed securely this time.
He’s sluggish as he navigates through the compound back to the entrance. Unfortunately, his nap did little to relieve him of his headache, but at least it hasn’t gotten worse. Still, the light throbbing in his head gives him enough motivation to quicken his steps, eager to get back to his apartment already so that he can sleep in a proper bed.
Just as he’s about to exit the compound, rustling from a nearby bush grabs his attention, causing him to slow his walking until he stops completely. He didn’t sense the chakra of anyone nearby, so he’s not exactly alarmed, but it doesn’t hurt to make sure.
Carefully, slowly, he approaches the bush, making sure not to make any noise. Then, he peeks inside, squinting in the darkness to see if he can make out any shapes. It just looks like he’s staring into a black hole if he’s being honest, but there’s the faintest outline of something, though its silhouette is too fuzzy to be completely sure.
He’s about to give up and be on his way when the bush rustles again, and this time a black figure jumps out of it, too small and too quick for his addled brain to discern it. It’s only when he hears a soft meow, so quiet that it’s nearly imperceptible, that he finally realizes what the mysterious figure is.
It’s a cat.
Sasuke looks down toward his feet, blinking at it tiredly. It blinks back, looking at him with piercing gold eyes that seem to glow in the darkness that surrounds them. The cat is awfully tiny, which makes him inclined to believe that it can’t be more than a year old, but its size could also be attributed to the fact that it’s likely a stray.
Crouching down, he offers his hand for the feline to sniff, mindful of his movements as he doesn’t want to startle it. It walks over to him slowly, its hesitance evident in the way it stops every couple of seconds to just stare at him before continuing forward. Once the cat is close enough, it sniffs his hand for several seconds, and he waits in anticipation.
When the cat bumps its head against his palm, he releases a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. He indulges the animal with pets for several moments before speaking up.
“What are you doing out here?” he questions, understanding that if there were other people around, he’d look ridiculous to them talking to a cat like this.
The cat only purrs in response, content to be receiving affection in what’s likely a long time. His heart aches at the thought, but he doesn’t allow himself to get too sad about it. That’s just the unfortunate reality for many stray animals.
“I don’t have any food with me right now,” he tells the cat regrettably, eyeing its thin body with a tiny frown on his lips. The cat meows again like it’s trying to assure him that it’s okay, but it does little to comfort him.
Then, he remembers.
“Ah, hold on.”
Again minding his movements so as to not startle the feline, Sasuke reaches into his satchel to retrieve his flask. There’s only a bit of water left over from when he refilled it this morning before he set off on his journey, but it should be enough for now. He pours some of the water into a small cup he keeps handy, then sets it down carefully in front of the cat.
It looks back and forth between him and the cup curiously, making no move to drink.
“Go ahead. Drink it,” he encourages, pushing the cup a little closer to the cat.
Still, it doesn’t drink. It just stares at him unblinkingly, and if he was familiar with feline expressions, he’d say that it looks confused.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, just as confused as the animal before him. “Are you not thirsty?”
The cat simply meows again. Unfortunately, he doesn’t speak cat, so he’s left with his own imagination to figure out what it might’ve said in response to him. As he’s thinking about what to do about the cat not drinking, he takes his own sip of water from his flask, emptying it completely.
It’s only then that the cat proceeds to drink from the cup he offered, and his eyes widen in realization as he watches it happily lap up the water.
“You have good survival instincts,” he praises the cat. “I’d have to be a cruel person to offer a stray animal something that would hurt it, though.”
The cat soon finishes the entire cup of water, licking its mouth in satisfaction to catch any stray droplets. Then, it walks over and bumps its head against his leg affectionately, showing its gratitude, and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from cooing at it.
(He’s always had a soft spot for cats.)
Remembering where he’s supposed to be, he gives the cat one last scratch beneath its chin before standing up and brushing off his pants. The feline meows in protest, and he does his best to ignore the slight tug he feels in his chest at the sight of its longing stare. Turning on his heels, he starts back toward the entrance, finally leaving the compound.
Sasuke’s walk back to his apartment is quiet for the most part. The village is fast asleep as it’s still the middle of the night, though he does occasionally see the lights of some households still on, indicating night owls much like himself.
The peace continues for a few more minutes until he hears the telltale sound of paws padding behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he spots a tiny black dot several feet away from him, walking in slow, calculating steps, like it’s aware it shouldn’t be following him but is still doing so, anyway.
In hindsight, he shouldn’t be surprised that the cat decided to follow him, even though he thought he'd made it clear that he has no intention of keeping it. Maybe it was his mistake for offering it water; most strays would likely interpret that act of kindness as an attempt to be warmed up to so that they can be brought home.
Well, he supposes it doesn’t really matter what the cat chooses to do since he still has no intention of keeping it. Turning his head forward again, he decides to mind his business and let the feline do whatever it wants to so long as it’s happy.
When Sasuke finally makes it back to his apartment, the cat is still following him. He pauses right outside of his door, his hand resting on the handle, and stares down at the animal almost pitifully.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, slightly wincing at how loud his voice sounds in the quiet. “I can’t keep you.”
The cat meows and takes another step toward him.
“I can’t,” he says again, briefly turning away to open his door and step inside. He turns back around and watches as the cat sits down in front of the entrance, resolute. He sighs, shaking his head slightly, then closes the door.
He does feel a bit bad, but realistically, he’s in no position to be taking care of an animal, even if it’s taken a liking to him.
It’d make no sense for him to shoulder the responsibility of caring for another living, breathing creature when he can barely take care of himself, after all.
☯︎
Sasuke feels like a helpless sack of bone and muscle when he wakes up the following morning.
He guesses that he shouldn’t be too surprised considering how he was out roaming the village in the middle of the night for several hours. Now that he’s experiencing the repercussions of his late-night decision, however, he wishes he’d been a little stricter with himself and forced himself to go back sooner.
When he tries to turn over in his bed, he feels himself get caught in his sheets. Annoyed, he untangles himself from them, quickly deciding to shove them off of his body with more force than what’s necessary. He was starting to feel a little too warm, anyway.
Sitting up, he checks his clock on his nightstand and learns that it’s just past nine in the morning. It’s a lot later than he’d usually wake up, but it makes sense given the circumstance. He’ll just have to somehow survive the rest of the day off of five hours of sleep, or maybe he’ll have to rely on caffeine to keep him awake, though he’d rather avoid that.
It’s when he’s seriously contemplating lying back down and going to sleep again that he receives several knocks on his door—loud, firm, persistent. It makes him freeze for only a second before he realizes who it could be.
(When it comes to someone like him, there’s only one other person who would make an effort to continue existing in his life so boldly.)
With a huff, he hauls himself out of bed with little difficulty, suddenly feeling more awake than he did just a minute ago.
(He chooses to ignore why that may be for his peace of mind.)
When Sasuke finally opens the door, he’s greeted by a boy that’s no longer a boy.
In just a year and a half, Naruto has changed—not drastically, but enough to make Sasuke pause so that he can take in all of the new details. He’s taller now, maybe as tall as Sasuke is if the way they’re now standing eye-to-eye is any indication.
He’s also noticeably broader. As discreetly as Sasuke can, he takes note of Naruto’s well-built arms, one of which is fully bandaged, and his muscled chest—the way that the hard-earned definition of his body is emphasized by the thin, white t-shirt he’s wearing.
Sasuke quickly averts his eyes to focus on a different part of his friend before his borderline ogling gets too obvious.
Another hard-to-ignore change about Naruto is his hair: It’s a bit shorter now, but it’s still as unruly as ever, like he purposefully runs his hands through his hair daily to achieve the messy look. The color of it, however, is what really grabs Sasuke’s attention because it’s glaringly different to how he’s always remembered it.
Whenever he thought of Naruto’s appearance, the color of his hair was one of the first few things that always came to mind. He’d never met anyone else with such distinct, vibrant yellow hair, though he supposes that doesn’t mean much considering he grew up in the village. Even after he left, however, he’d never met anyone else with such memorable hair besides Deidara and Minato, though the latter is obvious.
Now, the blond of Naruto’s hair has somehow changed completely. It’s no longer that lemon yellow he’d come to associate with the other man but a sandy white, and it’s such a stark contrast to the color in his memory that Sasuke can’t help but to stare. It’s like his hair has been sun-bleached, and honestly, the thought doesn’t sound too crazy.
“Sasuke?”
Speaking of the sun, Naruto is a lot tanner than he was the last time Sasuke saw him. He’s always been sun-kissed, but the warmth of his skin practically radiates now, especially with him standing in front of Sasuke like this: backlit from the morning sun, haloed in light. He feels his hand slightly twitch from where it’s limp against his side, and he has to put in a concerning amount of effort to keep it there.
“Hello? Earth to Sasuke?”
Despite all of the changes, Naruto’s eyes are still undeniably the same—bluer than any sky that has graced Konoha, deeper than any ocean that spans the Earth and runs toward the depth of its core, like the sea itself is trying to escape the brilliance of the sun. Sasuke never once considered himself a poet, but as he stands here in front of Naruto—a boy-turned-man who still possesses the wonder and joy of a child despite all of his hardships—he finds himself reconsidering.
There's a mountain of unfamiliar words aching to be strung together into a poem, sitting impatiently on the tip of his tongue, and he's tempted to—
"Sasuke!"
Sasuke doesn't even try to hide it when he jumps in surprise. He blinks once, twice, then three times. When his eyes refocus, Naruto is looking at him with a mix of several expressions, though the most prominent one is confusion.
"Are you okay?" Naruto asks, his voice laced with concern. "You've just been staring at me without saying anything."
"I'm fine," he says, cringing at the rasp in his voice. It reminds him of how he's just woken up without making himself look presentable, and the thought has him embarrassed all of a sudden. Self-consciously, he clears his throat and tries again. "Sorry. I'm—I just woke up, so I'm probably still a bit out of it."
Naruto raises a questioning eyebrow. "You just woke up? It's past nine, though."
"I know."
"Did you suddenly become a bum while you were out traveling?"
Sasuke kicks Naruto's leg hard enough to where he almost buckles, and his friend curses in surprise.
"Ow! Dude, what the hell?!"
"This is the first time you've seen me in a year and a half and you're choosing to accuse me of becoming a bum," he says flatly, though he can admit that he's struggling to control the smile that's threatening to appear on his lips.
"Ah! That's right!" Naruto exclaims, like he's just remembered something. "It has been that long! C'mere, you."
"Naruto—"
Without warning, Sasuke is promptly lifted up off of the floor. He lets out a strangled noise, his poorly suppressed annoyance evident in the way that he shoves his hand in Naruto's face, begging to be put down. The other man doesn't yield; Naruto wraps his arms around his waist impossibly tighter, and he presses his face into Sasuke's chest, letting out a contented sigh.
Sasuke tries very, very hard not to flush—out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he isn't sure, and he doesn't exactly want to find out, either.
"Put me down," he hisses, though his previous vigor is quickly disappearing, seeping from his muscles and making his attempts at shoving Naruto away nothing more than weak, halfhearted pushes.
"Aw, c'mon! Don't be like that."
"Like what?"
"Like—I don't know. Disappointed. Or annoyed."
"I am annoyed."
"But not disappointed, right? You're happy to see me too, right?"
Sasuke sighs and brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, irritation long gone and replaced with resignation. He almost regrets his decision of answering his door right now.
Almost.
"Naruto, please put me down," he says, using his hand to tilt Naruto's chin up so that he's looking at him. The other man stares at him unblinkingly for several moments, almost dazed, before he huffs and looks away.
"Fine," Naruto relents, finally putting him down but securely keeping his hands on Sasuke's waist. He's not sure if Naruto realizes what he's doing, but Sasuke doesn't attempt to move away, even if their position makes him flustered.
"So," he starts. "It's been over a year."
"It has," Naruto confirms. "You look so different!"
Sasuke tilts his head in confusion. "Do I? I don't think I've changed much."
"You have," Naruto insists. He reaches up with one of his hands to brush back Sasuke's bangs, the action revealing his Rinnegan for a split second. His hair falls neatly back into place when Naruto retracts his hand. "Your hair's different again."
With Naruto so close to him like this, it's hard to think clearly—or at all, really. This kind of proximity isn't anything new, but it's been a long time since he's seen Naruto, let alone touch the other man. To see his friend be able to initiate contact with him so easily like no time between them has passed is dizzying, but he's not sure why he's surprised in the first place. Naruto has always been a naturally tactile person—physically affectionate to all of his friends.
(Because that's all that they are, aren't they? Friends. It's what Naruto has told him over and over and over again without hesitation, like he's never once thought of Sasuke as anything else.
Knowing that, surely it doesn't mean anything different when Naruto is touchy with him.)
"Your hair is different, too," Sasuke points out, somehow managing to find his voice. "It's shorter. And lighter."
"Ah, you noticed?"
Naruto brings one of his hands up to play with his hair, ruffling it in a boyish manner. The action seems rooted in self-consciousness, like he wasn't expecting Sasuke to bring it up. It makes him curious because Naruto is rarely, if ever, shy. He's always one to tackle obstacles head-on and take even his mistakes in stride, but Sasuke thinks he's witnessing Naruto's shyness for the first time right now.
He hates himself for finding it endearing.
"How could I not?" Sasuke says a moment later.
Naruto sighs. "You're right. I was always planning on cutting it short eventually, but I was worried that it might not look good, so I only trimmed it to start."
"And the color?"
"What do you mean?"
Sasuke blinks. "Your hair color," he clarifies. "It's completely different. It looks like the Yamanaka girl's hair now."
"Okay, first of all, her name is Ino," Naruto says, pointing a finger at Sasuke's face disapprovingly. Sasuke immediately knocks his hand away, scowling at his friend. "Second of all," Naruto continues, "I guess it never really occurred to me."
"How could you not notice something as obvious as your hair color changing?" he asks incredulously.
"I don't know! When you look at yourself every day, any kind of physical change starts to fly right over your head because you aren't expecting it!"
"That's the case for idiots, maybe."
"You—"
"Anyway," Sasuke interrupts. "Can you let go of me now?"
"Huh? Oh."
They both look down to where Naruto's hands have remained connected to Sasuke's waist for the entire five-minute conversation they've had so far. Discreetly, Sasuke peers back up at Naruto through his eyelashes, noting the strangely blank expression on his face. Then, in the next moment, the other man is finally releasing his grip on him, and Sasuke feels himself breathe a little easier.
"Sorry," Naruto apologizes, laughing nervously.
Sasuke gives him an odd look but doesn't comment on it since he's not faring much better, either. He can only hope that his behavior isn't obvious to his friend.
A warm breeze gently caresses Sasuke's cheek then and reminds him that they're both still standing at the entrance of his apartment. Taking a step back, he gestures for Naruto to come in, closing the door behind him once he's done so.
"Uh, Sasuke?" Naruto says while Sasuke is still turned around, fighting with the lock on his door because it suddenly decided to be difficult.
"Hm?"
"When did you, uh, get a cat?"
Sasuke stills immediately, the sharp clank of his lock stopping in tandem. He turns his head over his shoulder slowly, hesitantly, like he's afraid of his suspicions being confirmed. Naruto isn't looking at him once his head has fully turned around.
He's looking at a cat that's sitting in the middle of Sasuke's apartment—the same one that decided to follow him back last night.
"You've got to be kidding me," Sasuke groans softly, turning his head back around to rest his forehead against the door. The impact makes an audible thunk, but he's in too much disbelief to register the slight pain.
"Are you… good?" Naruto asks, and his voice sounds closer to him than it was before.
Still keeping his head against the door, Sasuke angles it just enough so that he can see Naruto through the curtain of his bangs.
"Not really."
"… Why? It's just a cat."
"That cat followed me home last night."
"Okay, well—Wait, how late at night were you out walking?"
"Doesn't matter."
"It kinda does—"
"The cat, Naruto. The cat."
Naruto huffs. "C'mon, Sasuke. The little guy's probably just lonely. Besides, I thought you like cats?"
His position is starting to get uncomfortable, so he finally lifts his head up off of the door. He turns around, massaging his forehead while he stares at the cat across the room. It stares right back at him, unblinking, its tail swishing around behind it. The gold of its eyes seem to sparkle with mischief from where the sunlight in his apartment hits them.
Sasuke sighs. "I do like cats."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I can't keep it, Naruto. That's the absolute last thing I should be doing—taking care of a pet."
"Hey, I only assumed it was your cat because it's literally sitting in your apartment like it owns the place, but if it isn't, then it isn't. I'm not saying you have to keep or take care of anything. Although…"
Sasuke watches suspiciously as Naruto starts to approach the feline, his steps cautious. He crouches down next to it once he's close enough, putting out his non-bandaged hand to let the cat sniff it, then proceeds to pet it for several moments once it's given him its approval.
Within one blink and the next, Naruto has somehow teleported from the center of his apartment to right in front of him, the cat now secured in his arms. Sasuke is about to question why it's not causing a fuss when Naruto suddenly shoves the feline toward his face, causing him to hold back his tongue in surprise.
"Naruto, wh—"
"It's cute, isn't it? It looks just like you."
Sasuke pauses to register his friend's words. Then, "Did you really just compare me to a cat?" he asks, his voice flat.
"I called it cute, didn't I? It was a compliment!"
"You know that means you're calling me cute, right?"
Sasuke regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth. He tenses, worried that he might've just made things weird between them, then forces himself to relax because this is Naruto. It would take way more than some offhand remark to cause a rift in their relationship.
Besides, it's not like the other man hasn't said more questionable things to him before.
"Anyway," Sasuke continues a moment later, not wanting to let Naruto comment on his previous words. He needs to ask what's been on his mind ever since Naruto got here. "How did you even know that I'm back?"
Interestingly enough, Naruto seems thankful for the sudden change in topic. He moves the cat away from Sasuke's face, bringing it back toward himself and allowing it to rest in the crook of his elbow while he speaks.
"Ah, well. I could sense your chakra," Naruto says calmly, casually, like he hasn't just admitted that he's basically a human Sasuke detector.
"Oh," he says dumbly, not really knowing what to say since he wasn't expecting that. "Could you… always do that?"
"What? Like, sense your chakra?"
Sasuke nods stiffly. Naruto seems to pay no mind to his tense behavior.
"Well, yeah. I didn't exactly know it was your chakra I was sensing until a couple of years ago, though. I had to figure out on my own whose chakra it was that had this strange pull on me."
Sasuke is only half-aware that he's currently reeling from the new information he's just been given.
Strange pull, Naruto had said. Sasuke's chakra is apparently different from everyone else's, at least according to Naruto. He doesn't think he should feel as happy about that as he does, but he can't help it. When the corners of his mouth twitch, he has to bite down on his lip to prevent himself from smiling.
"Is it the same for you?"
Sasuke blinks. "Huh?"
"The whole sensing chakra thing," Naruto clarifies. "Is my… Is my chakra different from other people's? Besides the fact that I have two types, obviously."
Can you sense my chakra, too?
There's really no point in lying.
"Yeah," he says. "It's different."
Of course I can sense it.
Naruto looks at him intently for several moments before a small smile forms on his lips, and it's so different to the ones he's used to seeing on the other man. He knows it's no less genuine though, and it's still just as nice—full of the same warmth and sweetness and kindness as his grander smiles, just like the owner himself.
"Oh, right. I almost forgot," Naruto says a moment later.
"What is it?"
"The whole reason I came here as early as I did."
"Oh? I thought you just wanted to bother me."
Naruto gives him a look. It doesn't really work on someone as bubbly and unserious as him though, so it really just makes him look goofier than normal. Sasuke has to bite down on his lip to suppress a laugh.
"Asshole," Naruto mutters, but it's obvious he's not actually trying to keep his voice quiet; Sasuke hears him loud and clear, amused by his friend's childishness. "Anyway, no, that's not the reason. We're going out today."
Sasuke squints at his friend. "Out?" he repeats skeptically.
"Why do you sound so unsure?"
"I feel like that's a perfectly normal reaction when it comes to anything having to do with you."
Naruto groans dramatically, causing the cat in his arms to stir. He quickly apologizes to it, giving it a few gentle pets on its head in compensation before looking back at Sasuke like he wants to start roughhousing him. This time, Sasuke doesn't try to hold back his snicker.
"You're having a grand ol' time bullying me, aren't you?" Naruto says flatly.
"This isn't really any different from how I usually treat you," he points out, his laughter slowly subsiding.
Naruto rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just hurry up and get ready! I'll be out here playing with the cat."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"I will do whatever I want. Now go."
Trying to keep the jostling to a minimum while the cat is still nestled in his arms, Naruto lightly shoves Sasuke toward where his bathroom is, sticking his tongue out at him childishly when Sasuke throws a glare back over his shoulder.
"Don't break anything," Sasuke warns, only half-joking.
"Do you really have so little faith in me?"
"Yes," he deadpans.
Naruto adjusts his hold on the feline in his arms so that he can use one of his hand to cover its ears. Sasuke watches the scene before him in mild confusion before he promptly bursts into laughter at his friend's next words.
"Fuck you."
"Did you really have to cover the cat's ears just to curse me?"
"Yes! It's just a baby!"
The rest of Sasuke's laughter becomes muffled once he closes the door to his bathroom, leaving Naruto to babysit the cat that he's still unsure of what to do with. Surely it can't hurt to indulge it for a little longer while he's still here. It's probably been alone for so long, anyway.
(Unfortunately, he can relate to that loneliness.)
. . .
The July air greets them much too enthusiastically—the heat is oppressive, the sun is relentless, and the lack of wind only amplifies the harshness of the summer weather. Beads of sweat pepper his hairline in abundance, even though it hasn't even been five minutes since he's stepped outside. His thinnest shirt isn't doing much to ward off the discomfort, but he supposes it's less preventing and more delaying the inevitable.
Still, Sasuke prefers this over the cold brutality of winter. Maybe it's because he was born in July, or maybe it's because he's an Uchiha with a natural affinity toward fire nature, making it so that heat has never really bothered him. Either way, he'd rather live through an eternal summer than to have to deal with another winter if it meant that he could embrace this warmth and keep it close to him, no matter how intense.
(There's likely some unspoken words he's refusing to let take shape in the privacy of his mind—something about how there's a better, more honest reason for disliking winter than it simply being because he hates feeling cold.
He's always gravitated toward warmth—the inexplicable feeling of comfort it brings, the familiarity. Everything about summer shouldn't appeal to him like it does, but it's inevitable when it reminds him of—
It reminds him of—)
"Ugh, it's so fucking hot."
Sasuke blinks and promptly returns to reality. He glances to the side where Naruto is currently attempting to cool himself off by using the neckline of his t-shirt as a makeshift fan. Clearly, compared to Sasuke, Naruto doesn't fare too well in hot weather.
"It's not that bad," he replies a moment later, absentmindedly eyeing the sweat the slides down his friend's temple.
"I don't know how you can say that when you're sweating just as much as I am," Naruto grumbles, heat-induced irritation evident in the way that his normally bubbly and cheerful personality is absent.
"I didn't say I wasn't sweating," he points out. "I just said that it's not that bad."
Naruto gives him the flattest look that Sasuke thinks he's ever seen on his face. It looks so comically out of place that he feels himself start to shake with how hard he's holding himself back from snickering.
"How can you say those two things within the same sentence and genuinely mean it," Naruto says more than asks, like he's talking out loud to himself and is trying to make sense of his disbelief. Sasuke rolls his eyes at the other man's dramatics.
"I just did."
"You—God, you're such a fucking smartass."
"And you're fucking annoying," Sasuke retorts. "Stop complaining and keep walking. You're the one who wanted to go out today."
"Okay, but—"
"No but's."
"Don't cut me off, you fu—"
"Sasuke! Is that you?"
The sudden voice startles them both into silence, effectively ending their squabble. Sasuke carefully turns around to find the source of the voice, and it doesn't take long until he does.
The pink of Sakura's entire existence is a colorful, welcoming contrast to the bleak monochrome of everyone else's. Notwithstanding her trademark color palette, he could still easily detect her from any crowd. Maybe it's because she's one of the few people whose life the universe decided to intertwine with his own, like it was fate for them to be involved with each other in some way.
(He used to reject her presence in his life with unmatched fervor, but he quickly learned that her own determination and persistence were forces to be reckoned with. In the end, he's glad that he was proven wrong—that there's someone else who possesses just as much passion for protecting their loved ones as he does.)
Sakura makes it over to the two of them in quick, eager strides, skillfully dodging the moving bodies of the townsfolk. Once she's close enough to where he can clearly discern her features, he sees the way that her seafoam eyes brighten in recognition. A small yet sincere smile appears on her face as soon as she's within several feet of him and Naruto.
"It is you," Sakura says after a moment of scrutinization, though Sasuke thinks that the action is less about her confirming his identity and more about her making sure that he's not visibly injured in any way—medical ninja habits, perhaps.
"Who else wears all black in the middle summer?" Naruto points out without missing a beat. Then, after another moment, he adds, "Or every day, really. I swear that this guy is allergic to wearing co—"
Sasuke promptly smacks Naruto upside the head to shut him up. He clutches his head in faux agony and whines loudly, attracting the attention of nearby people. Sasuke rolls his eyes at his friend's theatrics.
"Quit it, moron. People are staring," he says, pulling Naruto up by the collar of his shirt so that he isn't hunched over anymore.
"Oh, let them stare. I could care less about that."
"Couldn't," Sasuke corrects.
Naruto blinks. "Huh?"
"It's I couldn't care less, not could. The latter implies that you actually do care in some capacity."
Children shriek in excitement somewhere far off in the distance. The vendor that's closest to them is currently engaged in a passionate conversation with a prospective customer, their speech practiced and eloquent. A pair of friends passes by them, laughing loudly and without reservations at each other's teenaged antics.
Despite the liveliness of the village, Naruto stares at Sasuke in a silence that's so painfully comical that he doesn't know whether to laugh or cringe.
Then, "You… You're such a fucking nerd, dude."
Sasuke immediately feels the urge to smack his friend upside the head again.
"That's not being a nerd," he says, irritated. He thinks that his cheeks might be tinted pink, but at least he can blame it on the weather if it's pointed out. "That's called knowing the basics of semantics."
Naruto gawks at him. "Of what?"
"Okay, now I know you're just doing this shit on pur—"
"Ahem."
At the interruption, Sasuke swallows the rest of his words and throws one last glare toward Naruto before turning to face Sakura. The way that she's looking at him makes him feel like he's one of her patients undergoing surgery, but then she blinks, and the look is gone as soon as it came. He decides to not dwell on it.
"You know," she starts, "I was gonna smack Naruto for not telling me that you came back, but seeing as you already did it, I guess I don't have to do it myself anymore."
Naruto deflates. "You guys are so mean to me," he says, pouting.
"Yeah, yeah," Sakura says, waving her hand dismissively. "Anyway, Kakashi-sensei wants to see you in his office, Naruto."
Naruto perks up at that. "Huh? What for?"
"How should I know?"
"Ugh," Naruto groans, turning to give Sasuke an apologetic look. "Sorry," he says. "D'you mind if we make a quick detour?"
Sasuke shrugs. "It's not like I had any other plans today than to be dragged around by you."
His friend rolls his eyes. "You seriously love making it sound like I'm forcing you to hang out with me."
"Is that not the case?"
"Obviously not, you—"
"Stop arguing like you're both twelve again and get moving. Don't make Kakashi-sensei wait too long," Sakura advises, giving both of them a light shove toward the Hokage Tower. Naruto stumbles for a moment before quickly regaining his balance, and Sasuke snickers from beside him.
"We'll talk later?" Naruto says to Sakura over his shoulder, hopeful.
"How about lunch?" she suggests. "I'll treat you guys."
"Seriously?!" Naruto turns to Sasuke and grabs his arm with both of his hands, his grip firm and unrelenting as he starts shaking him back and forth. "Can we go?"
Sasuke clicks his tongue. "Stop shaking me like that. Also, you don't need to ask me for permission."
"I didn't know if you had anything specific that you wanted to do later!"
"Didn't I just say that I didn't have any other plans?"
"I'll take that as a yes," Sakura interjects, looking beyond exasperated. "I'll see you guys later. Remember: Don't keep Kakashi-sensei waiting!"
"Ah, wait—!" Naruto calls out, but Sakura disappears before he's able to get the rest of his words out. "Damn," he curses.
"What is it?"
"She didn't tell us where to meet her," Naruto points out.
Sasuke hums. "It's fine. She'll probably be the one to come and find us, anyway."
Naruto looks a bit skeptical about that but doesn't argue further.
Silence descends upon them as they start their trek toward the Hokage Tower. The sun beats down on the exposed parts of Sasuke's pale skin, the sensation vaguely reminiscent of what he imagines being simmered is like. Naruto chooses to stay quiet for the most part, although he does interrupt the peace between them periodically to comment on random things that catches his eyes.
Sasuke mostly just listens, only interjecting with his own comments when he feels particularly inclined to. As always, Naruto doesn't seem to mind his clipped responses and quiet hums of affirmation, content to just continue rambling about whatever his heart desires so long as Sasuke is there to listen.
It takes them a total of ten minutes to reach their destination. They stand outside of the Hokage's office for a moment, Sasuke staring absentmindedly at the doors that would be imposing to just about everyone else except for a select few, including him and Naruto. He's not sure if it's because he's never been afraid of authority or if it's because of the specific authority figure in question, but either way, it doesn't really matter to him.
After blinking a few times to clear his mind, he stops stalling and gives one firm knock to announce their arrival before pushing open the doors.
Kakashi appears the way that Sasuke had expected him to, which is to say not any different from how he looked back when he'd seen Sasuke off on his journey a year and a half ago. The only difference is that the older man is fitted in his Hokage garb, the red and white fabric practically drowning his slim figure and making him look smaller than he actually is.
Sasuke stares unblinkingly at Kakashi from across the room, unsure of how to describe what he's currently feeling. His first instinct is to say that he's not feeling much of anything at all because he's never been particularly attached to the older man, but he'd be lying to himself.
He's been trying to do less of that lately—being willfully ignorant and dishonest as an excuse to run away from the discomfort he feels from the unfamiliar.
Kakashi hasn't said much himself since the two of them arrived. In fact, he's been staring at Sasuke as much as he's been staring at him without so much of a greeting or wave of acknowledgment. Maybe he's also trying to make sense of how he feels with seeing Sasuke again after so long. He can't imagine what it must feel like to be in Kakashi's shoes—to see this kid standing before him who isn't really a kid anymore and hasn't been for a long, long time.
(That's what it feels like, at least.)
It's probably different through the lens of old age, though. No matter how old Sasuke gets, he's always going to be a child in Kakashi's eyes. The thought surprisingly doesn't bother him as much as he'd expect it to.
After what feels like hours, Kakashi clears his throat and finally speaks.
"Thanks for stopping by on such a short notice, Naruto. And Sasuke—It's good to see you again. You look well."
"Yeah. It's… good to see you, too," Sasuke says carefully. Kakashi seems to take no offense at his hesitance.
"What did you need me for, Kakashi-sensei?" Naruto asks a moment later.
Kakashi leans back in his chair, crossing his legs and folding his arms. It seems like becoming Hokage did nothing to fix that informal and easygoing nature of his, and Sasuke feels the corners of his lips quirking up at the thought that any appointment to a higher position would change the older man's inherently childish personality.
"Ah, right. It's nothing serious—I just wanted to let you know that you have this week off from intern duties."
Naruto blinks. "Huh? Why?"
"Sasuke is going to be here for just a week," Kakashi starts, eyebrows slightly furrowed at the sound of Naruto's confusion. "I'm giving you the week off so that you can spend time with him."
Ah, dammit.
"Wait… A week?" Naruto cranes his neck slowly to look at Sasuke, his eyes narrowing accusingly. "You're only staying here for a week? Why does Kakashi-sensei know this and I don't?"
Sasuke sighs, choosing to ignore the pout he can hear in his friend's voice.
"Yes, I'm only staying for a week," he confirms.
"Okay, but what about my other question?"
"What other question?"
Naruto groans. "I asked you why Kakashi-sensei knew about you being here for only a week but I didn't. That seems important enough to mention to me."
Sasuke regards Naruto carefully, noting his crestfallen expression. Naruto has always been one to express his emotions freely, unashamed of his innermost thoughts and feelings reflecting on his face for the rest of the world to see. It's one of the countless things about him that Sasuke admires, and he'd even go as far as to say that it's something he envies.
He sighs, the quiet sound a small disturbance in the silence they've cultivated. He's not even sure why Naruto seems so upset about this, but he supposes it isn't his place to judge what is and isn't worthy of someone's emotions.
"I had only decided on how long I was staying after I sent out my last letter to you," Sasuke starts, not quite looking Naruto in the eyes—unable to, maybe. "I needed to update Kakashi about something a bit later, which is after I decided on the duration of my stay. I just happened to mention it in my letter to him."
Kakashi hums in confirmation. "He's not lying," he says.
Naruto still looks unconvinced but ultimately decides to drop it. Sasuke lets out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding in.
"Anyway," the older man continues a moment later, his voice cutting cleanly through the sudden tension that has formed in the room—so thick and heavy that Sasuke feels as if he could reach out and grab it, like it's real and tangible. "You guys are free to go now."
"What?" Naruto finally tears his gaze away from him to look at Kakashi. "That's it?"
Kakashi nods his head. "That's it."
Sasuke turns on his heels and starts walking toward the doors. A moment later, he hears Naruto's footsteps falling not far behind. He continues walking and resolutely keeps his eyes forward, even when Kakashi says goodbye to them, his voice slightly muffled by the distance and the barrier of his mask.
It's only once the doors fall shut behind them with a dull yet heavy thud that he finally turns back around to face Naruto. His friend is already looking at him, the expression he's wearing another unknown that Sasuke is starting to suspect is now a norm when it comes to him.
He's not sure how to feel about that—the fact that Naruto is becoming harder to read.
(Maybe it's less about Naruto being unreadable and more about him being clueless as to how to identify his own emotions in the first place. Sasuke had mentioned earlier that Naruto is someone who doesn't try to hide his feelings, so if that's the case, then whatever mess of emotions he's currently experiencing must be reflecting in his expression right now.
It's the only explanation he's willing to accept for the sake of his own sanity.)
"What is it?" Sasuke asks eventually, finally breaking the silence.
"… Nothing," Naruto says, and Sasuke would laugh at how blatant the lie is if it wasn't for the fact that just the thought of doing so leaves a heavy, uneasy feeling in his gut.
Maybe he'll decide to dissect why that is another day, but for right now, he leaves it be.
"Right. Let's just go and find Sakura, then. I'm sure she won't mind eating a little earlier."
At the mention of eating free food and seeing their friend again, Naruto perks up, if only a little. He tries offering Sasuke a smile, but it's weak at best and lacking its usual passion and brightness. It looks all kinds of wrong on his face.
(Out of everything about the other man, Naruto's weak smiles hurt Sasuke the most. Seeing his friend unable to give his all in something that shouldn't require any amount of effort is painful because it's like watching someone forget how to do something they've always known how to for their entire life—a bird forgetting how to fly, a fish forgetting how to swim, a human forgetting how to breathe.
Without protest, he'd take all of Naruto's frowns and glares and sneers if it meant that he'd never have to see another halfhearted smile of his ever again. Disappointment, anger, disgust—all of that would be genuine, at least.
It's also not like he isn't used to those feelings being directed at him, anyway.)
Sasuke doesn't say anything more and begins walking toward the exit. For once, Naruto doesn't try to initiate conversation and lets the silence grow thick. It feels like an invisible barrier has erected between them, but Sasuke is clueless as to how to knock it down.
Naruto is only a few steps behind him, but it feels like he's miles away.
The illusion of distance makes Sasuke want to do the chasing for once.
☯︎
The longer that Sasuke stays in Konoha, the greater that the disconnect between him and the village becomes.
It was bearable at first—his discomfort. Upon his return to Konoha, all he could do to prepare himself for the long week that was to come was grit his teeth and hope for the best, and even now he can't decide whether or not that behavior was characteristic of him. Now that it's been several days since he's been back, however, he's realizing that he should've taken more consideration in to preparing himself for his return.
For the most part, he's been able to keep a tight lid on his emotions, of which have been slowly accumulating inside of him ever since he took those first few steps back onto the coarse dirt of a land he's long since detached himself from. They've been swirling around, slow and deliberate, like a typhoon that's waiting to be unleashed so that it can wreak havoc.
He's not sure how much longer he'll be able to withstand the discomfort. It feels like his emotions are quickly reaching their boiling point, and if he doesn't do something to prevent all of the ugliness and rot infesting his insides from spilling out, then it's also going to become everyone else's problem.
He doesn't want that.
Sasuke can at least admit that it's nice to see familiar faces, even if a lot of those faces belong to people he can't really call friends, much less acquaintances. If he's strictly speaking about Team Seven, then that would be a different story. Still, their presence isn't enough to dispel the unease that lingers in his gut like a perpetual sickness. Maybe it's wrong for him to try and use their existence as a remedy for something as incurable as his discomfort, but it's not like he has a good history of having sound judgment.
The point is that he doesn't want to be here. He knows that no one is forcing him to stay, but still, it feels like he has an obligation to fulfill.
He's aware that Naruto would never ask him of anything, especially not if he knows that his request will physically or mentally hurt him. Despite that, Sasuke knows that Naruto wants him to stay more than anything, even though he's aware about how just physically being in Konoha makes Sasuke want to claw his own skin off because it feels like too much—the air, the people, the noises. It's all so overstimulating in the worst way possible.
Still, he finds that he can't fault Naruto for his wish because there's nothing inherently wrong with it. Given the context, however, it's perhaps the worst and most unrealistic wish he could have, and if Sasuke wants to be brutally honest, it's also the most selfish.
(Just the mere thought of calling someone like Naruto selfish is enough to make his stomach turn, so he quickly gets rid of the thought and hopes that it never returns, even when he knows deep down that there's nothing wrong with the thought in the first place.
Still, it doesn't feel right. To criticize Naruto for even the most minor things feels like a crime considering all of his sacrifices, most of which were made at the expense of his own comfort and safety. Sasuke knows that Naruto isn't perfect, nor is he immune to making mistakes, but still, he can't help but for his judgments to be biased when it comes to the other man. It just isn't something he can help.
He tried desperately before to obtain mental clarity so that he could achieve his goals by severing his connection to Naruto, but everyone knows how miserable that attempt was. It's laughable to assume that he could ever think logically whenever Naruto is involved.)
Sasuke is big enough to admit that he's afraid of Naruto knowing the full extent of his hatred toward Konoha, even if it's an irrational fear because Naruto, out of anyone, would be able to understand Sasuke's disdain since he once had it, too.
Naruto likes to pretend that everything is fine now, but Sasuke will never forget the wicked looks the villagers gave him as a child—their tongues sharp and constantly dripping with venom, always prepared to spit out insults as if they weren't directing their cruelty at an orphaned child who didn't have a clue as to why he was being treated so horribly for circumstances beyond his control.
There are so many reasons for Naruto to hate Konoha as much as Sasuke does, yet he chooses kindness and forgiveness because that's just who he is as a person. Sasuke can't even bring himself to call him naive for it because deep down, he thinks he wishes he could do the same—forgive. Even if Konoha doesn't deserve his forgiveness, it would at least relieve him of the exhaustion that comes from being constantly angry and bitter and resentful.
He knows that would never happen, though. It's just wishful thinking.
Sasuke throws his arm over his eyes and sighs, releasing all of his pent up frustration in that single exhale. He's been awake for about an hour now, but he still hasn't found the energy to get out of bed. Delaying his morning routine like this would normally make him feel grossly unproductive, and he does feel like that, but he's so mentally and emotionally exhausted that he can't even find it in himself to care.
In the midst of his agonizing, he feels the space by his feet dip slightly from the weight of something. Peeking from beneath his arm, he sees the cat that he's recently become accustomed to seeing the presence of. It's sitting primly at the foot of his bed, its tail wrapped around its legs. Gold eyes bore into mismatched ones, unblinking.
He didn't plan on letting the cat stay with him, but it felt too heartless to keep kicking it out every time it managed to sneak into his apartment, so he just let it be since it wasn't really bothering him. It's a pretty independent cat, anyway; the only time that it asks for his attention is when it wants pets, but even that isn't often. Perhaps it knows that he's not someone who's readily affectionate, so it asks for it sparingly.
He also hasn't given the feline a name because it feels too cruel. He doesn't want to become more attached to it than he already has, especially since his departure is in a few days, which means he'll likely never see it again. For now, he's content to just let it stick around as much as it desires.
Sitting up, Sasuke extends his arm to reach for the cat, waiting until it comes over to him on its own. It's not really hesitant around him anymore, so it only takes a second before it's rubbing its head against his palm, purring contentedly. He indulges it for a minute before finally getting out of bed to complete his morning routine.
It's when he's setting his dirty dishes into the sink to be washed later that he receives a knock on his door. Making the quick trip from the kitchen to the entryway, he opens the door a moment later to reveal Naruto, which isn't a surprise. Wordlessly, Sasuke opens the door further to allow his friend to come in, then closes it behind him with a soft click.
Naruto doesn't immediately try to look for the cat so that he can greet it, which instantly makes Sasuke suspicious. There must be something else on the other man's mind that's taking up all of his attention.
"The cat is in the other room," Sasuke says, briefly looking off toward the direction he last saw the feline run off to.
"Oh, that's—I'm not here for the cat," Naruto admits, suddenly looking nervous. Sasuke's suspicion grows tenfold.
"Right," he says slowly, carefully regarding Naruto. The other man looks like he's trying his hardest not to fidget, but Sasuke can see the subtle twitches of his hands—the way that they're fighting against the urge to clench and unclench just so that they have something to do. "Why are you here, then?"
Hurt flashes across Naruto's face, so quick that Sasuke thinks he must've imagined it. His features are quick to settle into something more neutral after, but the previous hurt still lingers like a shadow, evident in the way that his eyebrows are ever-so-slightly furrowed and his lips aren't curved happily like they usually are. Sasuke has to pretend like he doesn't hate himself for being the one to put the expression there in the first place.
"You… You do know what day it is, right?" Naruto asks eventually, tentative, like he isn't sure if it's a question that should be asked in the first place. That only confuses Sasuke because it's an innocent question, if not a little random.
"… Yes?" he responds, his voice lilting at the end to convey his confusion. "It's Saturday."
Naruto blinks once, twice, then three times. He opens his mouth but no words comes out, so he's left gaping like a fish fresh out of the water. His odd reaction only makes Sasuke's confusion grow; he has no idea why his answer has left Naruto so speechless.
"Sasuke," Naruto starts, finally managing to find his voice. "You can't be serious."
Sasuke bristles at that. "What?" he says, failing to not sound defensive.
By now, Naruto just looks mildly amused, and Sasuke doesn't miss the way that his friend looks like he's trying to hold back a laugh. He can't even begin to understand the humor in this situation, but clearly it's the opposite for Naruto.
"It's July twenty-third," Naruto says simply.
"Yeah, so?"
Ah.
Sasuke clicks his tongue and brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, annoyed at himself. No wonder Naruto was looking at him like he'd grown a second head and sprouted a tail.
"I can't believe you actually forgot your own birthday."
"Shut up," Sasuke says, embarrassed that Naruto of all people had to witness him make such a fool of himself.
"It's okay," Naruto assures. "I've forgotten my own birthday before, too."
"That doesn't comfort me very much coming from someone like you."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"
Sasuke sighs. "Nothing. Anyway, now that we've established what day it apparently is, can you tell me why you're here again?"
The cat chooses to reveal itself in that moment, and the new presence catches Naruto's attention. He kneels down and beckons the feline to him, offering his hand for it to sniff. Once it has given Naruto its approval, he starts giving it scratches behind its ears and under its chin, happy to indulge the animal.
"We're going out tonight," Naruto says, not letting his eyes stray from the cat. It's now lying on its back to show its tummy, clearly trying to have Naruto pet it there, which Sasuke finds surprising. He's pretty sure most cats don't like for their stomachs to be rubbed, but he guesses that isn't the case for this one.
Then, Sasuke registers Naruto's words. He tenses up for just a moment before willing himself to relax.
"Can you… elaborate on that?"
"Hm? Oh. Kakashi-sensei is treating you, me, and Sakura to dinner to celebrate your birthday."
Right. Of course.
"… I see. That's fine, I guess."
Naruto pauses in giving the cat his affection, which causes it to meow in protest, unhappy about the pets stopping so prematurely. He cranes his neck to look back up at Sasuke, his face portraying dissatisfaction.
"You sound like you don't wanna go," Naruto says, and Sasuke has to hold back another sigh from escaping past his lips. He's been doing too much of that lately.
"You're thinking too hard about it, stupid," Sasuke says, walking over to his friend and crouching down beside him. He reaches his hand out toward the cat, which it gladly accepts.
"So you do wanna go."
"Yes, Naruto. I want to go to dinner."
Naruto makes a little sound of satisfaction then, and Sasuke has to pretend like it isn't cute. He should probably be more concerned by the fact that anything Naruto does endears him, but that's not something he's willing to address right now—or ever, really.
After another few minutes of comfortable silence spent playing with the cat, Naruto speaks up again.
"What are you gonna do with the cat while you're gone?"
The question makes Sasuke pause, his hand slowing down until it stops completely.
"What do you mean?" he asks. "I'm going to release it back into the wild. It was a stray to begin with, anyway."
Naruto looks absolutely horrified by his answer, so much so that Sasuke has to replay his own words in his head to see if he can detect anything wrong with what he said. When he comes up empty, he gives the other man a confused look, silently asking Naruto to explain himself.
"That's so cruel," Naruto says, looking genuinely upset. "You can't just let it go after giving it a home."
"For a few days, Naruto. It hasn't even been a week yet."
"Still! A few days is enough for an animal to get attached to a human, especially if you've been taking care of it."
"I haven't really been taking care of it," Sasuke points out, unable to help the sigh he lets out this time. "It just stays here because I happen to not actually hate cats, so I don't mind it coming back. It's pretty independent otherwise."
Naruto pouts, clearly unhappy with his answer. He looks back down toward the feline, eyeing the animal carefully, then looks back at him.
"What if… I take care of it for you while you're gone?"
Sasuke blinks. "Huh?"
"The cat," Naruto clarifies, but that isn't what he was confused about in the first place.
"No, I know. I just—Why?"
"Why not? You wanna keep it, don't you?"
Sasuke stares down at the cat in front of him. It's no longer lying on its back but on its side, and it looks like it's in total bliss with how many pets it's received in the past ten minutes alone. He really doesn't hate cats—loves them, actually. Still, he doesn't know if it's a good idea for him to have a pet, even though he wouldn't be the one taking care of it most of the time.
Naruto seems to understand the debate Sasuke is having with himself and bumps his shoulder with his own to get him out of his head.
"C'mon, Sasuke. Don't think too hard about it."
Sasuke gives his friend a skeptical look for several more seconds before visibly deflating, completely defeated.
"Fine," he relents.
Naruto hollers in victory, the volume of his voice startling the cat and causing it to abandon its comfortable position to stand back up on its legs, defensive.
"Ah, sorry," Naruto apologizes, offering the feline a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"You aren't making a very good impression," Sasuke teases.
"Oh, shut up," Naruto says, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, what are you gonna name the little fella now that you're keeping it?"
Sasuke pauses. Then, "Pick up the cat for me."
Naruto raises a confused eyebrow but doesn't question the sudden request. He slowly makes his way toward the feline, picking it up with surprisingly little effort considering how he frightened it earlier, then turns toward Sasuke.
"What now?"
Sasuke ignores Naruto's question in favor of focusing on his task. It only takes him a couple of seconds to confirm what he's been wondering about.
"Okay. You can put her down now."
"Her? What—Oh. Wait, you didn't bother checking the gender earlier?"
"Like I said several times already," Sasuke starts, "I wasn't going to keep her. There would be no point in checking something like that for an animal I was planning on letting go after the week was over."
"Still…"
"Oh my god. I can't win. You're literally unhappy about anything I do."
"Pfft, what?" Naruto lets out a soft chuckle then, adjusting his hold on the cat so that it's more comfortable for the both of them. "You're so dramatic."
"I'm the dramatic one?" Sasuke says, scoffing.
"The name," Naruto reminds him. "C'mon, Sasuke. Give her a name!"
Sasuke huffs in annoyance at his friend's childishness and looks at the cat, regarding her carefully. She stares back at him with her increasingly familiar golden gaze—her eyes a pair of yellow agates, crystal clear like freshly polished gemstones.
It's also like…
"Hibiki."
Naruto tilts his head. "Hibiki?"
Sasuke nods. "That's her name."
"… Like the whiskey?"
Sasuke can't help the snort that he lets out, uncaring of how unflattering it sounds.
"Sure," he acquiesces. "Like the whiskey."
Hibiki meows loudly then, almost like she's giving her approval to her new name. He's not sure if that's really the case, of course, but the possibility still makes him smile.
"Seems like she likes it," Naruto says, voicing Sasuke's earlier thoughts.
He hums. "It would appear so."
Well, it looks like he now has a cat.
. . .
Dinner ends with little fanfare, much to Sasuke's surprise.
Of course, that's not to say that they didn't attract any attention—they're still Team Seven after all, even if they haven't been operating as an official team for several years. Plus, what with Kakashi being Hokage, it's only natural that he causes additional heads to turn their way. Sasuke would complain about all of the unwanted attention they garnered tonight, but that would make him a hypocrite considering he's the one who agreed to go out.
(He also can't exactly refuse a birthday dinner. Free food is free food.)
The village streets emanate a pleasant warmth, heated by the late-evening sun. Foot traffic is minimal where he and Naruto currently are, easily navigable and free from any reckless children running amok without their parents' supervision. Despite being past eight in the evening already, daylight hovers over their heads, lighting the pathways and keeping them company for another hour.
He strolls alongside Naruto in companionable silence, close enough for their shoulders to brush against each other every so often. Sasuke feels content in a way that he hasn't felt in very long time, and he's not sure if it's because of dinner or something else entirely.
All he knows is that for once, being in Konoha doesn't feel unbearable. It still isn't nice, nor would he say that he likes it, but it's certainly better than the constant discomfort he typically experiences while being in the village.
Sasuke lightly shakes his head to clear away his thoughts. He then focuses his attention to the gentle weight of his gifts in his hand: a black, custom-made leather journal embossed with a small Uchiha clan symbol at the center of the cover, subtle enough to be practically unnoticeable, and a new black cloak to replace his old one that was starting to tear in several places, similar in design but a little more sleek. It's very obviously handmade, but it's clear that Sakura is skillful when it comes to sewing.
He honestly wasn't expecting to receive anything, but when Kakashi and Sakura handed over their gifts to him at the end of dinner, he can't lie and say he wasn't touched, especially since they're really nice gifts. Clearly, the two of them put a lot of time, consideration, and effort into the presents, so he makes a mental note to put them to good use once he's out on his travels again.
In contrast to the other two, Naruto hadn't given Sasuke his gift after dinner, saying something about how he wants to give it to him in private. It made Sasuke a little suspicious, but he didn't question his friend's motives.
Now that the two of them are alone, however, he can't help but to wonder when Naruto is going to give Sasuke his gift because he's terribly curious as to what the other man got him. He doesn't think he's ever received an actual gift from Naruto before, so this will be the first time.
Maybe that's why Naruto is stalling—he's nervous.
(Is that too presumptuous of Sasuke to assume?)
A few minutes later finds the two of them approaching an achingly familiar park. It's completely empty, likely because all of the kids were ushered home by their parents for dinner. Sasuke eyes the swing sets in their twin vacancies, unaware that his feet are already guiding his body toward them. Naruto follows closely behind him, keeping quiet.
A sudden wave of nostalgia slams into Sasuke the moment he sits down on the swings, violent and unforgiving, leaving him unbalanced and crashing down toward the floor beneath him. He feels like he's five again—all short and gangly limbs that knew more of incoordination than precision despite the hours he put into training, all childlike wonder and innocence that the world didn't care enough to protect.
He's not five, however, but freshly nineteen—just a year too early to be able to say that he's lived through two decades. Still, just being here in a place where he has more good memories than not, even as limited as they are, makes him feel like he's a kid all over again.
He feels like he could choke on the melancholy. It makes him feel nauseous.
"Are you okay?"
Sasuke turns toward Naruto and notes the clear look of worry on his face. Even in the last remaining hour of daylight, the blue of Naruto's eyes aren't as bright as they usually are, dull and muddy, like they've been tainted with sorrow. It makes Sasuke's chest ache for a completely different reason—the reminder that Naruto hurts whenever Sasuke is hurting, even when he doesn't know the reason for his pain.
Just the fact that Naruto can empathize with him makes Sasuke weak, like the slightest pressure could make him fall apart from the seams of his existence until he's nothing more than a pile of his own ugly mess.
"Yeah," Sasuke says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why?"
"I don't know… You just seem a little sad." There's a pause. Then, "… Did you not have a good time at dinner?"
Sasuke's eyes widen a fraction of an inch, a sudden spike of panic causing his heart rate to speed up.
"No, that's not it," he assures. "Dinner was good."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm just… reminiscing, I guess."
His answer doesn't seem to completely satisfy Naruto, but fortunately the other man decides to drop it, likely not wanting to put him in a negative mood.
Turning away from him, Naruto redirects his attention to the bag in his hands—Sasuke's gift. He's been keeping it close to him since dinner, refusing to let Sasuke even peek at it. The bag is pretty inconspicuous though, so he's not sure why his friend thinks he could figure out its contents just by looking at the outside.
(That's a lie. Sasuke could definitely figure out what's in the bag by using his Sharingan, but even he wouldn't want to spoil a surprise like that.)
The two of them don't talk for several minutes after that, allowing nature's melody to fill in the gaps of their silence. Sasuke watches as the sun slowly dips below the horizon, his skin prickling with goosebumps as the summer heat dissipates into a pleasant chill reminiscent of autumn nights. He shivers involuntarily, bringing his hand up to rub at his exposed bicep.
"Are you cold?" Naruto asks, finally breaking the silence.
"Kind of," Sasuke admits, feeling a little embarrassed to say that he's cold in the middle of summer.
Naruto looks like he wants to say something else but ultimately decides against it. He looks back down toward his hands, staring intently at the bag he's clutching, then sighs. After another brief moment of hesitation, he offers the bag to Sasuke, pointedly avoiding his eyes.
Sasuke gingerly takes his gift from Naruto, intrigued as to why his friend seems so shy all of a sudden, but he doesn't voice his curiosity. Instead, he focuses his attention on the bag sitting on his lap. After taking a quick peek inside and seeing nothing but black, he reaches his hand into the bag instead, feeling around to see if he can figure out what the item is.
"Watching you take so long to open your gift is making me more nervous," Naruto says suddenly. "Hurry up!"
Just by glancing down toward Naruto's feet and the way they've been bouncing nervously for the past minute, Sasuke knows that his friend isn't lying, though he still fails to understand what about this situation is making him so anxious.
"Fine," he obliges.
Sasuke doesn't know what he was expecting when he finally pulled out the item from the bag, but it wasn't a scarf—or any piece of clothing, really. The material is soft beneath his fingertips, pleasant to the touch. It's also thick enough that he knows it'll be able to combat the frigid air of winter once the warmth of summer chills.
He inspects the scarf for another moment before a flash of red and white catches his attention. Curious, he folds the garment until one end of it is facing him, then he freezes.
There's a small Uchiha clan symbol stitched in the corner.
That means…
"Did you make this?" Sasuke asks quietly, unable to help the way that his voice slightly trembles.
"Yeah," Naruto confirms. "I… I did."
He lets the new information slowly sink in. It makes sense now why Naruto had seemed so nervous about giving Sasuke his gift. Maybe he was worried that he wouldn't like it, or maybe he didn't feel confident about his craft but still wanted Sasuke to have it, anyway.
It's a bit jarring—the fact that even someone like Naruto could be so self-conscious to the point that he'd hesitate to share his love with someone he cares about.
"I—Thank you, Naruto. It's really nice."
Naruto perks up at the compliment. "Really? Do you really like it?"
Sasuke nods. "It's really well made. When did you find the time to make this?"
His friend brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck shyly, looking off to the side so that he can avoid Sasuke's eyes.
"I, uh, have been working on it for a while. A few months, maybe."
"I didn't know you could knit."
"I didn't," Naruto admits. "Sakura taught me."
Sasuke's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "When did she find the time to teach you? Doesn't she practically live at the hospital?"
Naruto chuckles, and it's a breathy little sound, barely audible above the loud and rapid thumping of Sasuke's heartbeat in his ears.
"Yeah, she honestly does, but—I don't know. We just somehow made it work with our schedules."
Sasuke examines the scarf in his hand once more. The fact that Naruto went out of his way to learn how to knit just for him… It makes his chest ache with a feeling he can't put a name to—or, more accurately, doesn't want to name. Naruto couldn't have known that Sasuke was going to be back in time for his own birthday considering the last letter he sent to Naruto was rather abrupt, yet he still went through the trouble of learning an entirely new skill so that he could make Sasuke a gift.
If Sasuke hadn't decided to return to Konoha when he did, Naruto's scarf for him could have been left ownerless for another several years, and Sasuke wouldn't have known. It might sound silly, but it makes him sad to think about—the fact that all of Naruto's hard work wouldn't get praised until years later, especially when he deserves it.
He always knew that Naruto is a kind person, but being the recipient of said kindness in this current moment is almost too much to bear. The last time he ever received such a thoughtful gift was probably when he was a kid and his clan was still alive. That means it's been over ten years.
(There's something crucially important that Sasuke is forgetting: Naruto has always been unapologetically kind to him, even when he didn't deserve it—especially when he didn't deserve it. Being on the receiving end of Naruto's compassion isn't technically new to him, but it still shocks him to this day without fail.
Sasuke knows that he isn't the same person as he was years ago, but sometimes, it still feels like he never changed from that cold, heartless teenager who was driven by the sole agenda of avenging his wrongfully slaughtered clan. With that in mind, it's only natural that he'd feel awkward when receiving kind gestures because they're not something he's used to, nor are they things he ever expects from anyone, even Naruto.
His self-worth is such a terribly fragile thing, ready to shatter at any given moment. He supposes that it's going to take a long, long time until he's finally secure in himself, and it seems like even someone like Naruto can't expedite the process. Maybe it's wrong for Sasuke to want to use his friend for something like that though, especially since it's something he should achieve from his own hard work.
Still, he thinks it would be nice to not feel like he needs to reject every act of kindness that's directed toward him because he feels undeserving of it. He's not quite there yet, but he knows he will be someday.
For now, that's enough for him.)
Sasuke feels the telltale warmth of incoming tears build from behind his eyes, so he tucks his chin in toward his chest, allowing his hair to obstruct his face and protect his vulnerability. He clutches the scarf tighter in his hand as if fearing it'll disappear from his grasp if he doesn't hold on to it tight enough.
It's not going anywhere, though. He's never going to let it out of his sight.
"Thank you," Sasuke says again, unable to help himself. He needs Naruto to understand just how much he's going to cherish his gift.
"You're welcome."
He can't see Naruto's face in his current position, but he knows it in his heart that Naruto is looking at him like he's the only other person in the world, like there has never been another person besides him—Uchiha Sasuke.
(He has called Naruto his one and only before in the past—partly because he couldn't think straight due to the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through his body from battle, and partly because he couldn't find it in himself to care anymore about whether or not Naruto knew of his true feelings.
It's a belated thought, but he wonders how Naruto, at the time, felt hearing those words come from someone like him. Was he happy? Relieved? Did he feel the same about Sasuke? If so, does he still share the same sentiment?
Sasuke fears that if he was to confront his own cowardice right now and brave a look at Naruto, what he'd find on the other man's face would be too much for his heart to handle. Confirmation or rejection—either possibilities absolutely terrify him.
It's one thing for Sasuke to feel the way that he does about Naruto—though it's impossible to encapsulate those feelings succinctly with how limiting the human language is—but it's something else entirely to consider that Naruto may feel the same way about him.
He will cross that bridge when the time comes, but for right now, he's content to just look at the other side from where he is.)
Sasuke hates all of Konoha and the complete misery it built itself upon, but moments like this—moments with Naruto and Naruto alone—make him want to stay, if only a little.
It could be enough to sway his decision about leaving again if he lets it.
(Would he be enough?)
☯︎
Sasuke leaves tomorrow.
The thought brings him comfort, relief washing over him like a gentle wave. At the same time, however, there's an indescribable feeling nested deep inside of him, lurking in the shadow of his comfort, like it's just waiting to surface and ruin one of the rare times he actually feels happy while still within the oppressive walls of Konoha.
It feels a lot like grief—the indescribable feeling. That simultaneously confuses him and doesn't for a few reasons: One, grief is a long-time friend of his, so it isn't surprising to still be experiencing the remnants of it, even after so many years. Two, despite his familiarity with it, nothing has happened recently for him to be grieving—at least, he doesn't think so. Three, expanding upon the second reason, he doesn't think there's anything, or anyone, left to grieve.
He lost everyone and everything he's ever loved on the night of the massacre.
(Except he didn't lose everyone because he still has—)
Sasuke forcefully stops his train of thought from continuing any further. He can't shake the odd sense of loss that he feels, so he decides to try and make peace with it for now. Maybe it will disappear once he's finally outside of the village and traveling again, wandering from country to country like his heart desires.
(He hopes that'll be the case, at least.)
Sighing, he sits up in his bed and throws his feet over the edge. The sudden movement causes Hibiki to startle from where she was napping by his feet, and she quickly scurries away to the other side of the room. The meow that she gives him sounds an awful lot like a whine, like she's complaining to him about being rudely awakened. He throws her an apologetic smile from where he is.
Once he has crossed the room and slipped on his sandals, he turns back to Hibiki who's now eyeing him curiously.
"I'll be back," he promises.
Hibiki starts slinking toward him—her head hung low between her shoulders, her movements slow and calculating as if she's approaching prey. Sasuke watches her in mild amusement, a bit confused by her behavior but also endeared.
Ultimately, he doesn't question it; cats, especially young ones like her, are typically unpredictable in terms of how they act.
"Do you want to come with me?" he asks a moment later, his eyes still focused on the way that Hibiki is practically circling him now.
His question, however, causes her to immediately perk up, and she meows enthusiastically in response. Chuckling, he opens the door to allow her to leave, closing it behind him once he's exited his apartment as well.
Something that Sasuke immediately took note of when he returned to the village a week ago is that people don't blatantly stare at him like they did nearly two years ago. In fact, they don't really stare at him at all anymore. He's not sure if it's because they simply got used to his presence or if it's because they're trying to pretend like he doesn't exist, but whatever it is, it's just another reason why he can't wait to finally leave again.
(The people of Konoha ignore him for inherently spiteful reasons. The people of other nations, of other towns and villages, ignore him because he's simply a passing stranger. To them, he's just some foreigner wandering from place to place, looking to see new sights and try unfamiliar yet appetizing local specialties.
He misses that kind of anonymity—the freedom he felt while being a nobody.)
Regardless of the apparent lack of wariness the civilians have of him, Sasuke has been taking frequent walks like this all throughout the week. He never has a specific destination in mind, simply walking just to walk because he has nothing better to do.
Though he didn't mean for them to, his walks also inadvertently refamiliarized himself with Konoha—all of the old streets that now collide with the new ones, every residence and restaurant and shop that line each traversable pathway, dotting every square inch of the village. He'd like to say that he'll forget the layout of this place as soon as he's gone again, but even he knows that isn't likely.
He's circled the village so many times to the point that he could probably pick it apart and put it back together again with perfect accuracy.
(It makes him irrationally angry—the fact that if it really came down to it, he could do exactly that. Even with all of the reconstruction, even with every renovation of homes and establishments he's never once visited, he still knows Konoha inside and out simply because he grew up here. It's an undeniable fact that he can't change.
He's bitter, but there's nothing he can do to alter reality. He can't be a stranger when nearly every single living soul in the village knows of the infamy attached to his name.)
Sasuke aimlessly walks for another ten minutes until he hears his name being called out by a familiar voice. Turning around, he sees Sakura who's approaching him at a leisurely pace, her steps slow and unhurried. Once she's close enough, he notes the distinct lack of a smile on her face, though she isn't frowning, either.
Still, her uncharacteristically solemn expression causes unease to settle in his gut.
"Sakura," he says, eyeing her warily.
Hibiki meows in tandem, which captures Sakura's attention. Her features immediately melt into something much softer, the hard lines of her face all but gone. Crouching down, she offers Hibiki a hand to sniff.
"Is this the cat I keep hearing about from Naruto?" she asks, gently petting his cat.
"Yeah," he answers, choosing to ignore the fact that Naruto apparently talks to Sakura about him—or his cat, more specifically. "Her name is Hibiki."
"Like the whiskey?"
He can't help the way that the corners of his mouth twitch, threatening to curve upwards in a smile.
"You know, Naruto asked the exact same question when I told him what her name is."
Sakura chuckles, then abruptly stops, the serious expression that was previously on her face back again.
"Wait, are you implying that him and I think alike?"
Sasuke raises an eyebrow. "I wasn't trying to, but now that you brought it up, I always kind of thought you two were similar."
"What?!" Sakura quickly stands up, and the sudden movement causes Hibiki to flinch. She moves away from Sakura to hide behind his legs, putting a barrier between them. "Please tell me you're joking."
He's mildly amused at how she seems genuinely offended by the comparison. Her reaction is also just proving his point.
"I mean…"
"Ugh, you—" Sakura huffs. "Whatever. I guess he isn't the worst person to be compared to."
Sasuke watches in mild fascination as fondness bleeds into her features then, like it's inevitable her expression morphs into a kind of softness that's only reserved for when Naruto is being talked about. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, it reminds him of himself—the subconscious way his body reacts to the simple mention of the other man.
"Did you need something?" he asks a moment later, trying to get their conversation back on track. His question seems to remind Sakura of the reason why she came over in the first place.
"Oh, right. I was just wondering if you had time to talk."
"… About what?"
Sakura rolls her eyes playfully. "Wipe that look off of your face. It's nothing super serious."
"Sorry," he apologizes, fixing his expression.
She looks at him for another moment, quietly studying him, and he tries not to squirm under her intent gaze. Then, she starts walking ahead of him, turning her head around to look back at him from over her shoulder once she's a good distance away.
"We can keep walking while we talk," she says.
He hesitates for just a second before he starts following behind her, Hibiki right on his heels.
They walk together in relative silence for a while, and Sasuke is surprised to find that he feels relaxed. It's not that Sakura makes him uncomfortable, but he still feels a little awkward around her considering their turbulent history. Plus, he hasn't seen much of her since he's returned to Konoha except for two times: the first being the lunch where she treated him and Naruto, and the second being his birthday dinner.
It seems like she's trying to make an effort to stabilize their relationship again, and he honestly appreciates it. He just wishes that he could say the same for himself, but he hasn't been doing much of anything since he's been back in the village besides staying in his apartment and hanging out with Naruto.
Maybe it would do him some good to try and make new friends, but just the mere thought of meeting new people with the purpose of trying to build a meaningful connection to them makes his skin crawl. He knows that kind of reaction is likely a direct result of his trauma, but still—he's not an extrovert who can just walk up to people and befriend them like Naruto and Sakura can.
(He doesn't really need new people in his life, anyway. The people he currently has, as small as the number is, is enough for him.)
"You leave tomorrow, right?"
Sasuke looks at Sakura through his eyelashes. "Yeah," he confirms.
"How long do you think you'll be gone for this time?"
"I'm not sure," he admits while shrugging, though the action is pointless considering their current position. "Probably as long as the first time. Maybe even longer."
Sakura hums. They walk for another minute in silence before she speaks up again.
"Have you told Naruto that?"
He internally cringes. "… No."
Sighing, Sakura turns her head around to look at him, and the expression on her face vaguely resembles pain, like something about his answer physically hurts her. Sasuke doesn't want to think about why that may be, so he averts his eyes to focus on the path before them, feigning interest in the surrounding landscape like it isn't as bland as the rest of the village is.
Then, "You must've realized it by now, haven't you?"
Sasuke's footsteps falter for just a second, but the stutter in his momentum is enough to capture Sakura's attention. She stops walking and turns around to face him fully, her eyes steady and unwavering as they stare into his own. There's a fierce look of determination in her eyes, almost as strong as it was during the war all those years ago.
He wants to act clueless. He wants to pretend like he doesn't know what Sakura is talking about, but even he can't bring himself to blatantly lie like that. If she's asking him such a question in the first place, then that means she's already seen right through him and would immediately call out any of his attempts at lying or deflecting.
It's frustrating, but he can't be surprised about the fact that Sakura knows. She's always been the most intelligent one out of him and Naruto, after all. Out of everything, he's more shocked to find that she even had the courage to bring it up at all.
(Maybe that shouldn't come as a surprise to him either, though. Sakura has always been strong in her own right, braver than him and everyone else he's ever known—except Naruto, of course.
He's sure that she would agree with him.)
As much as he doesn't want to admit it because it makes him sound pathetically weak, he was never planning on bringing up his feelings. He told himself that he's content with life as it currently is, even if he knows it could be better. How much of better does he really deserve, though? He thinks that question—a rotten plague that's been infecting his thoughts for the past couple of years—is what makes him so hesitant to act on his feelings.
In the end, it looks like it never really mattered—his determination to keep his feelings locked up tight in the safe known as his heart. He's being forced to reckon with the truth despite not wanting anything to do with it, even if it's impossible to fully disassociate from.
This entire conversation is making him feel dizzy, like his brain can't quite keep up with the way his heart and soul are being bared by another person so effortlessly.
(To be fair, however, he isn't offering much resistance in the first place. It makes him wonder just how long he's been waiting for someone to come along and say the quiet part out loud for him, like it's been a subconscious desire of his for years now but is something he could never bring himself to admit.)
Sakura's eyes haven't left him since she's asked her question. She stares at him with an expectant look on her face, and he can't help but to think that she has way too much faith in him. No matter what he does, he just can't dislodge the words that are stuck in his throat; they refuse to come out.
Then, as if he isn't already speechless, Sakura shocks him further, effectively ending any and all further attempts at coming up with a substantial response.
"Ino and I are dating now."
Sasuke blinks. "Huh?" he says dumbly, because it's all he can manage.
"Ino and I are dating now," Sakura repeats, clear and confident without a trace of a stutter to be found.
"Ino," he starts, "as in… Yamanaka Ino."
"There's only one that we know, so yes," she says. After allowing a beat to pass, she adds, "I'm surprised that you even remember what clan she's from."
He tries not to visibly react to the subtle jab at his bad habit of not bothering to remember the names of people he deems unimportant. Instead, he lets the new information sink in, trying to understand why Sakura would tell him that detail about herself in the first place when it seems irrelevant to their conversation.
When he can't think of anything, he opts to give her the blandest yet sincerest response he can think of, hoping that the brevity of his words don't come off as sarcastic or disingenuous.
"Congratulations."
Sakura promptly bursts into laughter.
"What?" he says, trying not to let the irritation bleed into his voice. He knows that he didn't give the most enthusiastic response, but surely what he said doesn't warrant her current reaction. "Why are you laughing?"
"S-Sorry," she says breathlessly, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. "I just—I just wasn't expecting you to congratulate me."
He frowns. "Then what were you expecting?"
Her laughter has mostly subsided by now, though a wobbly grin remains on her face, like she could start laughing again at any second if he says something particularly funny. Still, he can't find it in himself to be truly upset, even if he's the one being laughed at.
"I'd say I don't know, but honestly, I was expecting you to question it right away," she admits, the remnants of laughter still evident in the way that her voice shakes.
"I mean…" he starts, "I do have questions. I just thought it'd be kind of rude to start interrogating you right away."
Sakura blinks, clearly surprised by his response. Then, "Since when did you care about being perceived as rude?"
Despite himself, Sasuke laughs. She's got a point.
"Why'd you guys start dating?" he asks instead.
"Because we like each other," she deadpans.
Sasuke gives her a blank stare. "No shit," he says flatly.
"Oh, don't be like that. I'm just messing with you."
For some reason, something about the last part of her sentence makes him pause: the fact that Sakura feels comfortable enough to joke around with him now, like it isn't only within the past year that they've finally been able to define the rocky relationship they have as friendship—or some semblance of it, at least.
It makes him inclined to believe that he's the only one still stuck in his shattered youth, stagnant and unable to let go of all of his past wrongdoings and mistakes. Sure, he took a year and a half-long trip to wander the world under the partial guise of atonement, but it's like that time away from the village—from the few people who make coming back to this hellhole worthwhile—didn't do a damn thing to change who he is.
(Not in the way he wanted to change, at least.)
Fundamentally, he's still the same as he's always been. Maybe there's nothing inherently wrong with that, but still, he can't help the disappointment that arises when he thinks about how he hasn't grown as much as he would've liked to.
This is just another one of those times that make him realize the exact extent to which Sakura has grown from who she was when she was younger—unlike him, clearly.
"I didn't even know that you like her," Sasuke says a moment later, trying to steer the conversation back on course.
Sakura chuckles, and he can't help but to think that it sounds hollow, forced, like she's only laughing because she believes it'll trick her mind into thinking that she feels better than she actually does. If he looks closely at her eyes—what little of them he can still see considering she's partly turned away—the color of them are a little dimmer now, the bright seafoam reduced to a lackluster verdigris.
"Yeah, well, neither did I until recently. I guess that makes both of us."
He looks at her quizzically. She fully turns her head away from him now, like his face is the last thing she wants to see.
"… What do you mean?" he asks tentatively.
"I mean exactly what I mean," she says, sighing heavily. She turns her head back around to face him, and it looks like it requires every last bit of effort to do so. "I didn't realize my feelings for her until as late as I did because I was so… distracted."
Even someone as socially and emotionally inept like him can quickly parse the meaning of her obscure words.
"I… see."
Sakura smiles wryly at him. Sasuke doesn't even try to hide his grimace.
"Aren't you also wondering why I'm even telling you all of this in the first place?" she asks airily, turning around to start walking again.
He keeps a respectable distance between them as he follows behind her, though Hibiki walks in front of him this time rather than beside him. With how quiet she's been, he'd almost forgotten that she's here.
"Well… yeah."
Sakura looks back over her shoulder and says her next words with an odd sense of finality.
"I'm telling you because I want to make it abundantly clear that I don't like you romantically anymore, but there's definitely someone else who does."
Sasuke freezes.
You must've realized it by now, haven't you?
She's talking about the same thing, he knows—the same person. Belatedly, he realizes that this entire conversation was a setup from the very beginning. It's almost laughable how easily he walked right into her trap, like an ignorant prey falling victim to its predator's scheme.
"So that's why you wanted to talk," he says quietly, accepting defeat.
Sakura huffs. "More or less. I'm glad that you finally caught on."
They've been walking for about twenty minutes. Night has fully fallen now, the darkness triggering the streetlamps to activate and light up the dusty pathways winding through the village. If he squints toward the sky, he can make out yellow-orange wisps of light sparsely stretching across the horizon, desperately clinging on to the last remnants of day.
The nighttime air is pleasantly cool on his bare skin, more tolerable than the chilly kisses the previous night had been peppering him with. Hibiki slows her pace to match his speed, briefly rubbing herself up against his leg like she's trying to warm him up. When she parts from him, he watches the subtle bounce in her steps with undeniable fondness.
Coincidentally, they end up at the same park that Sasuke was at last night with Naruto. He's not sure who's responsible for guiding them here or if it was an unintentional joint effort, but either way, it's a nice spot to end the day at.
A sense of déjà vu washes over him when he sits down on one of the swings, Sakura doing the same not a moment later. Hibiki chooses to lie down in the space between them, wasting no time to relax since she's likely tired after walking for so long, and Sasuke—
Sasuke thinks about the scarf and can't help it when he brings it up to Sakura.
"When did you find the time to teach Naruto how to knit?" he asks, unprompted.
Sakura looks momentarily surprised by the sudden question but quickly recovers. As she gazes out into the blackened horizon, a gentle smile takes over her lips, like she's recalling fond memories between her and Naruto. The soft expression awakens a dormant feeling inside of him, stirring it around in his gut in all of its bitter ugliness, and he has to do his best to shove the unwanted feeling back to wherever it came from.
"During whatever free time I had, really," she says. Then, after a few seconds, she adds, "Well, more like during whatever free time both of us had since Naruto was equally busy with his own interning stuff."
He nods, uncaring that it's a pointless action since Sakura isn't even looking at him.
"I honestly thought he'd be horrible at it," she continues, "but he surprised me. He caught on super fast, and before I knew it, he'd made an entire scarf."
"On his first try?"
"On his first try! Can you believe that?"
"I can," he says, then immediately gets embarrassed by how quickly he responded. Thankfully, Sakura doesn't comment on it, likely giving him a break from all of the teasing she's been doing today.
Naruto hadn't told him that—the fact that he'd made the scarf on his first try. It strikes Sasuke as odd because Naruto isn't one to pass up an opportunity to boast about his skills. In fact, he remembers how Naruto used to always beg to be showered with praise and compliments whenever he learned a new jutsu or perfected an old one.
Surely that particular aspect of him didn't change as he got older.
(Maybe he was shy, a mischievous part of his mind tells him. He was nervous the entire time he was with you and was still nervous even after he gave you the gift.
That can't be it, he responds to the voice in his head. That can't be because if it is, then that would mean Naruto li—)
"Sasuke."
He startles at his name being suddenly called. Blinking a few times to clear away his thoughts, he glances toward Sakura whose previously soft expression has been replaced with a solemn one—all of the happy lines and curves of her features flattened out into sharp edges and hard shapes. He swallows with difficulty, noting the sudden dryness of his throat.
"Yeah?"
"You should tell him."
Sasuke closes his eyes. It's cruel of her to say that, he thinks. Maybe it's what he deserves, though—her cruelty. Considering the awful way that he treated her growing up, he wouldn't fault her if she decided to be mean to him every once in a while.
(He could endure it. He'd force himself to endure it.)
"Are you seriously asking me to do that when I leave tomorrow?"
Sakura looks at him sadly. The stars above them blink like they're trying to hold back their tears.
"Do you have to leave so soon?" she asks, knowing that it's a useless question.
"You know that I can't stand being here," he replies, realizing as soon as the words leave his mouth that this is the first time he's outwardly admitting to despising the village.
Surprisingly, Sakura doesn't have a big reaction to his admission, almost like she already knew of his true feelings long before even he did.
Somehow, that possibility doesn't seem as far-fetched as it sounds.
Sakura doesn't respond for a while. He wonders if she's holding herself back from trying to convince him to stay, even for just a little bit longer, but he knows that she's past that—attempting the impossible. Still, he appreciates her consideration.
"Will you do it eventually?" she asks, finally breaking her silence.
He looks over to her briefly before turning away again, unable to hold her gaze. Above them, the stars continue to twinkle brightly against the black drape of the sky.
"I don't know," he answers honestly.
"You guys deserve to be happy."
Sasuke's heart clenches uncomfortably in his chest at her words. He knows that Naruto deserves happiness, but does he deserve it, too? The concept of being with Naruto is almost unthinkable to him—a faraway dream that's always floated around in his headspace for as long as he can remember.
He and Naruto would be too good to be true. Nothing about what Sasuke has done in this life—in this timeline, in this universe—warrants him to be with someone as good as Naruto.
Besides, it's not like the other man actually feels the same way as Sasuke does about him.
"Naruto does," Sasuke says a moment later. "I'm not so sure about me, though."
"Oh, come on, Sasuke. Enough with the self-deprecating nonsense. You do deserve happiness, just as much as anyone else does."
"Why are you so worked up about this?"
"I'm not—" Sakura cuts herself off to take a deep, steadying breath, then tries again. "I just care about you, okay? Both of you. You guys mean a lot to me. Is it really such a crime to want to see the two closest people in my life be happy?"
Her answers stuns him into silence. Never mind the fact that Sakura considers him to be someone dear to her, even after everything, but she wants to see him and Naruto happy—together.
Then, it hits him: the realization that Sakura not only knows of his feelings for Naruto, but she knows of Naruto's feelings for him as well. That has to be it. Otherwise, she wouldn't be rooting for them as hard as she currently is.
The truth of that makes the edges of his vision go blurry for just a second, and he has to remind himself to breathe lest he passes out in the middle of their conversation.
He wants to question her, wants to ask How do you know or How can you be so sure, but they're stupid questions because it'd make less sense if she didn't know. Though he's aware that the two of them have other friends, Naruto and Sakura only really have each other when they need someone close to confide in, especially considering the fact that Sasuke is gone for most of the time.
(He highly doubts that either of them would seek him, out of all people, for advice or comfort, anyway.)
Knowing that, it's only natural that Sakura would know certain things about Naruto that even Sasuke doesn't know. Something about that leaves a nasty, bitter taste in his mouth, but he ignores it in favor of focusing on what's important: Naruto's feelings.
Naruto's feelings that are apparently the same as Sasuke's own.
He's still reeling by the time he opens his mouth to speak.
"I…"
Sakura regards him carefully, an expectant look on her face.
"You…?"
"I'll… do it. Eventually. Not now, though."
Though she doesn't look completely satisfied, it seems that his answer was still more than she was expecting from him, so she simply smiles, finally turning away and giving him an opportunity to breathe.
"You better be the first one to tell him."
Sasuke feels his heart rate spike at the mere thought of being the first one to confess to Naruto. He's about to immediately protest the idea, but then he bites his tongue to prevent any words from spilling out, realizing that Sakura is right.
Naruto, ever since they were kids, was always the one doing the chasing. He was always running after Sasuke, both literally and figuratively, so it only seems fair that Sasuke does the chasing this time, especially for something like this. Giving Naruto a break from all of his relentless efforts is the least that he could do.
"I'll try," he says. "I can't make any promises, though. You know how unpredictable Naruto can be."
"Oh, no. You have to promise me that you'll be the first one to confess."
He scoffs in disbelief. "What's with the two of you and forcing me to make promises like we're still in the Academy?"
"Who else?"
"Naruto, obviously."
Sakura frowns, clearly unhappy about being compared to Naruto again. Sasuke isn't apologetic.
In the end, he decides to humor her, seeing no harm in making silly promises over love confessions. It makes him feel like his actual age, and he's thankful for what little normalcy doing these kinds of things with his peers give him.
They part ways not long after that, exchanging brief words consisting of See you soon's and Take care's. Before Sakura leaves, however, she surprises him with an unexpected hug—quick and tight. The contact makes him tense up momentarily, unused to such forwardness from her, but he eventually relaxes in her hold. He even manages to return the gesture, albeit a lot less enthusiastically.
(That's just him being awkward when it comes to giving affection, though.)
When he's finally back at his apartment, he doesn't bother turning on the lights. Hibiki immediately retreats to his bed, making herself cozy in his sheets, and for the first time since he's officially acknowledged her as his cat, he allows himself to be sad over the fact that he'll be leaving her for an indeterminate amount of time starting tomorrow.
He trusts Naruto to take good care of Hibiki, but still, he wishes that he could've spent a little more time with her before his departure. He hopes that she won't be too sad or upset with him for leaving so soon.
After removing his sandals, Sasuke follows in his cat's footsteps and makes a beeline for his bed. He plops down onto it face-first, uncaring of the fact that he hasn't washed up yet. Only now is he realizing how draining his conversation with Sakura was; the exhaustion feels like it's hitting him all at once and from every single direction.
Tomorrow, he won't be here anymore. Tomorrow, he'll be back to wandering the earth of different lands—back to meeting new people, to trying new foods, to working behind the scenes and doing Kakashi's dirty work because despite his obvious disdain toward Konoha, even he's not as dispassionate as he likes to believe.
(He hates it, but it's also not like he can't just stop helping. It's probably guilt that makes him feel obligated to perform a duty he was never assigned, which is unfortunate to say the least.)
Sasuke flips over so that he's lying on his back, closing his eyes afterwards. Hibiki meows in protest from the sudden movement, but he pays her no mind.
Out of every single emotion that's currently raging inside of him, he thinks that longing is the most prevalent—longing for a life that was never his, for a relationship that could be, for a person who isn't even gone.
He longs for so many things, and it makes him wonder since when did he become so greedy when before, the simple concept of wanting was a luxury he could never afford, what with his mind being preoccupied with other matters he deemed more important.
(His happiness. His safety. His wellbeing. His—)
Tomorrow, he won't be here anymore. Tomorrow, he'll be leaving Naruto again.
Today isn't tomorrow, but somehow, Sasuke already misses Naruto so, so much.
☯︎
Dear Naruto,
First, I hope that you won’t be too mad at me for leaving before saying goodbye to you. I don’t have an excuse to give you, so forgive me.
Second, you’re free to come pick up Hibiki whenever, though if you're reading this letter, then you'll probably take her back to your place right after. Still, I went ahead and fed her and gave her water already just in case. I also organized her belongings for your convenience; they’re sitting at the foot of the table you’re likely reading this letter at.
Third, I realized some things about myself recently. Well, less that I realized them and more that I came to terms with them. I’m not going to go into detail about it, but you’ll come to know eventually. Sorry for the vague words.
I don’t really have much else to say other than wait for me. I know that might be a tall order and maybe even a bit selfish of me to ask, but I hope that you can understand. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone for this time, but it could be a little longer than the first time. I’m sor
Please continue to write to me while I’m away. I’ll do the same.
I’ll mi I’ll see you again eventually. Take care of yourself (and Hibiki).
Best,
Sasuke
. . .
Dear Sasuke,
You’re such a bastard. The next time I see you, I’m socking you in the face while Hibiki watches in secondhand embarrassment. (So you better not die!!!)
Sincerely,
Naruto
☯︎
(With unfocused eyes, Naruto watches as the burnt leaves of Konoha fall from their respective trees, dancing in the breeze until they tire themselves out and descend down, down, down. Noiselessly, they settle onto the ground with the rest of their friends, creating a thin layer of auburn reds and copper oranges.
It's been two months since Sasuke left again—long enough for the autumn season to come back around. It's been two months, yet Naruto's mind still struggles to let go of the letter that Sasuke had left him before he departed from the village.
It's worse that his words were immortalized on a piece of paper because it's easier for Naruto to look back on them and lose his sanity all over again. Considering that he has poor self-control when it comes to the other man, he does it a lot—digs out the letter he hastily shoved into his bedside table the night before, manically rereading the words etched onto the piece of paper as if he hasn't already memorized every single line and stroke of each letter.
He knows that he's the one causing his own suffering. If he was normal, if he was like everyone else when it comes to understanding the relationships they have with the people in their life, then he wouldn't be in turmoil over whatever this is. It's impossible though, especially when Sasuke is involved.
Naruto knows that he isn't the brightest when it comes to a lot of things, but he's always been particularly skilled at parsing hidden meanings and hearing unspoken words.
With Sasuke, however, he finds that that skill of his all but disappears, like it was never something he had in the first place. It frustrates him because he knows Sasuke more than anyone else, but when it comes to something like this—to feelings—he becomes clueless. It doesn't help that whenever Naruto shares how he feels about Sasuke to the man himself, it seems to upset him for some inexplicable reason, and he doesn't even know why because Sasuke never tells him.
In his letter, Sasuke had said that he came to terms with some things about himself, but also that he can't reveal what those things are yet to Naruto.
Couldn't that only mean one thing? Would it be too naive of him to think that Sasuke could—
That Sasuke could—
Naruto abruptly stands up from where he'd been sitting on top of the Hokage Rock. A pained expression mars his face, twisting his features into an ugly ensemble, and it suddenly makes him think about Sasuke and his long hair—how he can easily hide his expression from the rest of the world when he doesn't want it to be seen.
Honestly, Naruto thinks that it's a shame that someone like Sasuke would ever want to hide his face because he's so—
"Naruto-kun!"
He jumps in surprise, turning toward the direction where his name was called. When he sees the owner of the voice, his heart plummets to his stomach like an anchor sinking into the depths of the sea.
Morbidly, he wishes that he could drown himself right now if it meant that he could escape this interaction and all of the inevitable ones to come.
"Hinata."
Naruto takes back his initial thought. Maybe he really is too naive.
There's no way that Sasuke could ever like someone like him, anyway.)
Notes:
#i love platonic sssk idgaf. i really hate when sns writers make sakura this insufferable, bitchy character who's still obsessed with sasuke or is like... bitter over the fact that narusasu get together. imo that kind of characterization is just regurgitating kishimoto's misogynistic writing. let nrsssk have a healthy and loving relationship with one another!!
besides that, i really hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! it honestly took so much out of me to edit the entire thing (clearly lol). i think it's going to take a while for me to complete editing chapter 3 as well, especially since life has gotten a bit busy, but i'll try to get it posted as soon as i can <3
as always, kudos and/or comments are much appreciated :)
MNFinch on Chapter 1 Mon 28 Jul 2025 03:13AM UTC
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gheemin on Chapter 1 Wed 30 Jul 2025 12:54AM UTC
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vvaj08 on Chapter 1 Fri 15 Aug 2025 09:55PM UTC
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gheemin on Chapter 1 Thu 21 Aug 2025 12:55AM UTC
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angh3lll on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Sep 2025 10:53PM UTC
Last Edited Thu 11 Sep 2025 10:56PM UTC
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gheemin on Chapter 1 Sat 13 Sep 2025 06:11PM UTC
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gheemin on Chapter 2 Thu 21 Aug 2025 02:25PM UTC
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apparently on Chapter 2 Mon 25 Aug 2025 06:43AM UTC
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gheemin on Chapter 2 Mon 15 Sep 2025 08:04PM UTC
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