Chapter Text
Sasuke opened his bedroom window, letting in the morning breeze as he finished packing. The smell of bacon and eggs drifted from downstairs. Mother was making a full breakfast.
She had folded his clothes neatly for him in the early hours. Pile by pile, he sealed them away in packing scrolls.
The photograph of Team 7 he kept on his nightstand had a blinding glare that caught his eye.
Kakashi had one hand on his head and the other on Naruto’s. Sakura was grinning between them. He had no idea back then that he’d end up being the only omega in a team of three alphas. It sounded like a nightmare.
But his team didn’t cross a line. When he presented in the Land of Waves, they all protected him in their own ways. Naruto hovered a little too close, and Sakura wasn’t subtle about the way she watched his every move. But none of them touched him. They didn’t say anything about his presentation. They just… adjusted.
Home was the real nightmare.
The bite on his neck throbbed at the thought, and he winced. He slipped the photograph into his backpack. Just as he packed the last of his things, there was a single knock on his door.
Sasuke stood up straight.
Father left the door open behind him and clasped his hands behind his back as he stepped into the room.
“You’re prepared?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Father stepped closer, but kept his eyes on the window. His face was stoic as always, but his alpha scent was sharp and heavy. Sasuke nearly swayed against it, his eyes stinging at the burn of gunpowder. There was sadness, or maybe guilt, beneath it.
“This arrangement shouldn’t have been necessary,” he said, finally turning to his son. “But you chose well. Hatake will protect you.” His hand rested on Sasuke’s shoulder, and Sasuke couldn’t suppress his flinch.
Father didn’t comment, but his grip stayed light. His eyes lingered on the bandages around Sasuke’s neck.
“You’re an Uchiha omega. Remember your place. Hold it with discipline.”
Sasuke’s chest grew cold. That man didn’t need to raise his voice to demand his silence.
“Yes, sir,” Sasuke replied on instinct, but the words felt sour on his tongue.
“Good.” Father squeezed his shoulder once before stepping back towards the door. “Come down for breakfast soon, your mother is nearly done.”
Sasuke tried to give another, ‘yes, sir,’ but his throat was too dry. Father’s footsteps descended down the stairs, and the smell of burnt wood slowly faded from the room.
Sasuke scoffed and clasped his bag shut.
Remember your place. He hated the way Father spoke to him since his presentation. He wasn’t a shinobi to him anymore, or even a son.
Just an omega.
Breakfast was quiet. Father left early, said he was called into the station. Mother kept her eyes locked on her son, as though she were studying his every feature.
Her gaze felt heavy, but he met it anyway. “I’ll be fine, Mom,” he reassured.
“I know,” she said with a sad smile. “I’m just going to miss you, my sweet boy.”
He swallowed hard against the burn in his throat and looked back at the table. “I’ll miss you too.”
She kissed the top of his head as she collected his plate.
He took his bag to the living room and sat on the couch, waiting for the knock on the door. Sasuke closed his eyes and listened to the soft clinking of dishes in the sink.
From the window, Sasuke saw Kakashi step up with his hands tucked into his pockets. It took him a while to knock, as though he were finding the courage.
Sasuke stood up as Mother answered the door.
“Kakashi-san,” she said with a forced smile. She stepped to the side and held out her arm for Sasuke. He grabbed his bag and stepped between them. He kept his head high despite the fear in his throat.
“Just Kakashi is fine. Thank you, Mikoto.”
She nodded. Her hand rested on top of Sasuke’s head, her eyes locked with Kakashi’s. “Please take care of my boy,” she said with a shaky voice.
Sasuke didn’t cringe, but he wanted to. He hated being talked about like a child. But he knew the words were more for her than him, in the end. He kept his face straight and his posture tight.
“I will.” Kakashi held her gaze. “I promise, Mikoto.”
Mother pulled Sasuke into a tight hug. She whispered in his ear, “Remember what we talked about?”
He nodded into her shirt.
“I love you, sweetheart.” She kissed the top of his head one more time and slowly let him go.
He couldn’t meet her eyes as he mumbled, “Love you too.”
Kakashi glanced around the neighborhood, pointedly avoiding their exchange.
Sasuke felt Mother’s eyes on him as they departed. He trailed just behind Kakashi, not quite beside him, but not in line either.
The Uchiha district smelled strongly of wood and smoke—staple scents of the clan, especially among alphas. Kakashi’s minty rain stood out sorely among the ash.
The slump of the jōnin’s shoulders was lower than usual. He looked… tired.
The sun was high. Voices carried through alleys and rooftops. Merchants, families, and shinobi bustled about the streets. The noise sounded muffled against the pressure building in his head. Konoha was alive and moving as though nothing had changed.
Pulling his collar up high, Sasuke tried to keep his bandages hidden as they walked through the village.
They passed the fork in the road that led toward the barracks. Kakashi kept going North.
“This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Sasuke said.
“I moved,” Kakashi replied casually.
“Since when?”
“Last night.”
Sasuke stopped walking.
Kakashi stopped too, turning back to face him.
“Where are you taking me?” Sasuke asked. His voice came out quieter than he meant it to.
Kakashi’s eye widened, just slightly. The mint in the air grew sharper, but Sasuke couldn’t read it.
“It’s my house,” he said softly. “Iruka and I cleaned it up last night. I figured you’d want more space.”
“You… you have a house?” He blinked.
“It was mine in name only, until now. It’s been gathering dust for twenty years, give or take.”
He shouldn’t be surprised that Kakashi, of all people, had well-kept secrets. He didn’t ask any other questions. Just gripped the straps of his pack tighter and took a step forward.
Kakashi led the way.
The homes thinned, then disappeared entirely. Soon, the only sounds were the wind in the leaves and their footsteps on the path.
They walked far. The house was hardly in the village. Sasuke’s palms began to sweat as they ventured into the woods on the edge of the Nara district.
Just when Sasuke was about to ask how much farther they had to go, he spotted the fence through the trees. The gate hung slightly crooked on its hinges, and beyond it stood a small house, darkened by the thick branches above.
Kakashi hesitated at the fence, his hand resting on the rusted handle. The gate creaked sharply against the silence of the forest.
Sasuke hugged his own arms as he followed Kakashi through the yard. He had a bad feeling—something told him he was trespassing, but he wasn’t sure if it was Kakashi’s hesitation or the forest itself recoiling from him.
He stopped short of the porch and just stared.
The house was strange.
Only one story tall, but a moon-shaped window peered into an attic, tucked just below steep roofing—purple, blue, and yellow shingles overgrown with moss. The windows were all different colors and shapes. Dark blue walls with brass trimming along the windowpanes made the home look like the night sky.
Wildflowers were painted on the wood of the porch deck. It creaked as Kakashi stepped up to the door and pulled the key from his pocket.
He turned back when Sasuke didn’t follow, who stood still in the middle of the yard, gripping his bag strap tight enough to make his knuckles white.
“You alright?” Kakashi asked.
Sasuke nodded instinctively, but his feet didn’t move. He didn’t know what was wrong. His body refused to take another step.
The trees looked like they were getting taller.
Kakashi put the key back in his pocket and stepped off the porch. He knelt down to meet Sasuke’s gaze.
“I know it’s weird,” he said, tilting his head towards the house. “But it’s safe, I promise.”
Kakashi’s scent was stronger in the forest, his petrichor and peppermint complementing the damp bark. He smelled at home, here.
Sasuke nodded again, more sure this time. Kakashi stood, and Sasuke followed him up the steps.
Chimes sang the moment the door opened. Sasuke had to close his eyes at the layering of scents that met his nose. Lemon. Rosemary. Something familiar he couldn’t place.
His feet carried him into the space on their own. Kakashi stepped out of the way.
Everything was colorful, but dark. Maroon curtains, navy couch, burnt orange chairs—chaotic, but curated.
He couldn’t orient himself right away, not with all the textures, stained glass, and strange layout. The front door opened to the kitchen, with a wall cutout leading to the living room.
The window in the kitchen didn’t open. The front door had two locks—civilian grade. There was a back door with a screen. Another deadbolt. The window in the living room was large enough for an adult to slip through.
They were tucked into the woods, away from the main roads. Hard to find unless you knew it was there. Maybe that was why the locks were so weak.
Kakashi turned on some lamps, one in the kitchen and two in the living room, filling the space with dim, warm light.
“Want some tea?” Kakashi asked, already rummaging through the cabinets and grabbing the kettle.
“Only if it’s green,” Sasuke replied.
“Green it is,” Kakashi said as he turned the water on. “You can take a look around, if you want. There’s plenty to see. Nothing is off limits.” He pulled a tin of bancha from the cabinet.
Sasuke wandered into the living room.
There was one long blue couch and two amber grandfather chairs. Between them was a low glass table, held up by a massive moose antler.
He ran his hand along the fabric of the chair closest to the back door. It was soft. Really soft. The chair was big—bigger than any seats he had back home. He let his bag fall off his shoulder and gently placed it on the chair. He didn’t sit yet, but he claimed the spot.
His eyes drifted upwards.
Every wall was filled with artwork and relics. Above the couch was a line of ANBU masks from different villages. There were dozens of them. He recognized the ones from Mist—they looked like Haku’s.
Sasuke let out a shaky breath. He wondered if they were trophies. Were they Kakashi’s? He said he hadn’t been here in years. Who else could have claimed that many elite shinobi masks?
He kept his eyes locked on the one that looked the most like Haku’s. The kid’s blood splattered on the bridge flashed through his mind, and he shivered.
They shouldn’t bother him as a shinobi, but something about the masks unsettled him. It reminded him of hunters who hung the heads of their kills.
He forced his eyes to move along.
There was a tapestry above the stairway with red and yellow tassels dangling from the edges. On it were a pack of wolves chasing each other in a circle. They looked… happy.
Sasuke glanced towards the kitchen. Kakashi wasn’t watching him.
He pushed his bag onto the floor and dropped into the chair. Cushions swallowed his small frame as he sank into them. The base was large enough for him to sit cross-legged as he leaned his head back against the headrest.
It smelled like something old. There was an earthiness to it that drew him in further. He pressed harder into the fabric and rubbed his cheek. Back and forth. He froze. He almost stopped, freezing for just a moment as he realized, but he kept going. Both sides. Up and down. Lie down. Roll. Again.
He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t want to stop, though. He kept pressing his wrists and face against every inch of the chair until something in him was satisfied, like the seat was finally right.
By the time he was done, he was out of breath, his face burned from the texture of the chair, and his hair was sticking up in all directions.
His eyes widened as his gaze snapped to the kitchen again. Still no sign of Kakashi. Thank gods he didn’t see him do that.
Sasuke pulled his bag from the floor and held it in his lap, clutching it like a shield.
Kakashi emerged from the kitchen shortly after holding a tray with two cups of tea. The tray clinked against the glass table. Kakashi sat on the closest corner of the couch and held a cup out to Sasuke.
Sasuke took it slowly. The ceramic was too hot, but he held it in both hands anyway. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
Kakashi nodded and took his own cup. He glanced at the armrest of the chair and back to Sasuke as he blew the steam. He said nothing and took a sip.
Sasuke shifted uncomfortably. He tried to smooth down his hair with one hand, but it was tangled and stiff. Realizing his hair was a lost cause, he tried to act normal, like he didn’t just roll around like a cat. Cautiously, he took a sip of his own tea.
He hummed as soon as the tea hit his tongue. It wasn’t the same kind his mother made, but it was good. His stomach felt warm as the liquid settled.
“Iruka’s coming by with groceries in the evening,” Kakashi said casually. “Or we can get takeout, if you’re hungry now.”
Sasuke shrugged. He wasn’t hungry.
It took a moment for Kakashi’s words to fully register, and his brows furrowed. “Iruka-sensei knows I’m here?” he asked.
Kakashi nodded. “I needed some help getting the house ready.”
How many people knew? Would Iruka tell anyone? Itachi was going to find him—
Sasuke couldn’t hide the fear on his face, and he could smell his own scent spike. Kakashi’s scent responded; the alpha’s soothing peppermint masked the omega’s anxiety.
“He’ll keep the secret,” Kakashi reassured. “He’s the only one besides your parents and the Hokage who know you’re living with me. And Iruka is the only one who knows you’re in this house.”
Sasuke didn’t know if he could trust his academy sensei that much, but Kakashi clearly did. He wished he’d had a say.
“He got you your bed, too,” Kakashi added. “Your room is the first on the left, if you wanna check it out.” He tilted his head towards the narrow hall.
Sasuke’s eyes widened. He imagined he’d be sleeping on a futon. Or in Kakashi’s room. But he had his own room. And if Iruka got him a bed… Why would he do that?
Sasuke finished his tea and set the cup back down on the glass table with a soft clink. With his bag still clutched to his chest, he peeled himself off the amber chair.
He looked back before he stepped into the hall, but Kakashi didn’t follow him. He was still sipping his tea slowly, watching the walls as if they were interesting. They kind of were, but Sasuke knew that was not why he averted his gaze.
The door to his new bedroom was cracked. It creaked softly as he pushed it open.
The room was bright with sunlight.
In the center was a large, circular… bed? It wasn’t like any he’d seen before. The edges were stuffed with fluff. It reminded him of a dog bed. That thought made him frown… but he didn’t hate it.
It didn’t remind him at all of his bed at home. That was good.
He ran his hand along the edge. It was soft. Softer than the amber chair. The word nest kept coming to mind in his mother’s soft voice.
Iruka was also an omega. He did it on purpose.
Sasuke shook his head and glanced around. The room smelled like lemons and chemicals, like every inch of it had been scrubbed clean. There was a dresser along one wall, and a sliding closet door next to it. A window beside his bed peered into the woods.
The forest was creepy, even in the daytime. The trees looked like they were reaching for him. Maybe he’d ask for curtains.
Sasuke opened his bag and dumped his packing scrolls onto the hardwood floor. He didn’t bother labeling them, so he had no idea which one was which.
He opened the first one and activated the seal. A cloud of smoke—then, the smell hit him hard. Sweet citrus. Hints of wood. Ash and sugar.
Home.
The basket of belongings his mother had given him sat in the middle of the floor. For a moment, he just stared at it. He let out a shaky breath. Of all the things to unpack first, it had to be the nesting materials.
He turned his head towards the hall and listened for Kakashi. The jōnin still hadn’t moved from the couch. Sasuke slowly got up and closed the bedroom door.
He approached the basket like it might have been full of snakes. He rummaged for his mother’s blanket first, and her sweater fell out of it. Without thinking, he buried his face in the sweater, closed his eyes, and breathed in deep. Orange peels and baked cookies.
He tossed them both on the bed.
His father’s robe was next. He smelled it with more caution, barely holding it to his nose. It wasn’t as strong as Mother’s items, thankfully. Father used a lot of suppressants for work, which left his scent mark duller. The faint impression of smoke was just right.
He tossed that on the bed, too.
Last was the pillowcase.
He couldn’t stop the whine that left his throat as he pressed his nose into it. Mostly like Mother, with just a hint of ash and fire. It reminded him of when she used to hold him with Father’s scent in her hair, back when he wasn’t so afraid.
He placed it in the middle of the bed.
There was a blanket on the bed already—a fluffy gray comforter, maybe feather-filled. He wondered if Iruka picked that out, too.
He almost climbed in, but his skin itched against his clothes, causing him to pause. He was wearing his standard collared shirt and shorts, but the fabric felt too thick on his skin. It would ruin the bed.
The rest of his packing scrolls were still sprawled on the floor. His clothes were the first thing he packed, so they should have been close to the bottom of his bag.
He picked up his best guess and opened it.
Shinobi gear, training clothes, and some weapons clunked to the ground as the smoke cleared. Sasuke sighed. Unpacking was going to take forever.
Wanting to just get it over with, Sasuke opened the rest of the scrolls in quick succession. The room practically filled with smoke, causing him to cough.
He opened the window and got to work.
Folded clothes in the dresser. Jackets in the closet. Gear in drawers. Blankets from his bedroom got tossed onto the bed with the other soft things. It took nearly an hour for everything to find its place.
The photo of team 7 was last. He didn’t have a bedside table, anymore. He placed it on the dresser, but he didn’t like how far away it was. But that would have to do for now.
The bed kept drawing his attention. He needed to fix it. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with it like that.
Sasuke locked the door and closed the window before undressing. He found a soft pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. It was only late afternoon, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to fix it, he wouldn’t sleep yet.
He approached the edge of the bed and pressed his hands down on the raised edges. They were squishy, like a long pillow had been pressed down and sewn into walls.
One knee at a time, he crawled in. He picked up the pillow case and pressed it to his cheek. Another whine, but lower this time.
He fell onto his back. The mattress formed to his shape, holding him snugly. That urge he had in the living room returned, but stronger.
No one was watching.
“I promise you, it’s okay,” Mother said softly.
Sasuke rolled around, but not as fast as before. He took his time rubbing his face and arms along the edges—all the way around. It didn’t work the same as before. The bed was too large, the sweetgrass didn’t stick.
He huffed and sat back up.
On his heels, Sasuke looked at the items scattered in the bed. He moved his mother’s blanket to the top, then tried laying it flat. Not right. On the bottom? No, back to the top. Sweater on the bottom. Robe to the left. Pillowcase under the actual pillow.
He kept going. Everything got moved more than twice, and usually ended up back in the same place more than once.
Something still wasn’t right. He lay in the middle of it all, trying to figure out what the hell would make him feel less itchy.
His mother told him he’d want to nest, but she never explained how to actually do it. He thought it would be easy, but he wanted to claw his skin off.
Why did it matter that much? He never wanted to nest at home, even after his presentation. It was like a switch was flipped the moment he set foot in this weird house. Or maybe it was leaving the compound that flipped it. Either way, this feeling was new, and he had no idea what he was doing.
He didn’t realize he was scratching at his neck until he broke skin. He hissed as the bite mark tore back open. Strands of the bandages he shredded were stuck in his nails.
He crawled out of the bed carefully, trying not to get anything bloody. He opened the door slowly and listened.
Footsteps, but distant. A cabinet shut. Kakashi was in the kitchen.
Sasuke winced as the door creaked open. That needed to be fixed. He bolted for the bathroom.
When the light turned on, he almost laughed. Hair matted and tangled, face flushed, neck smeared with blood. He looked ridiculous.
Gently, he cleaned the wound. He tried to do it the way his mother did: warm water, soft touch. It stung anyway.
He didn’t know where the towels were. Did they have any? He opened all the cabinets. He couldn’t find them. His neck was dripping wet.
He looked down.
The floor had a lot of water on it.
Did he do that?
A knock—Sasuke jolted.
“Sasuke, are you alright?” Kakashi asked calmly through the door.
Sasuke tried to answer, but his jaw was heavy.
Would Kakashi be angry? He was bleeding. The bathroom was a mess.
He was wearing pajamas.
“M’fine,” he choked out.
Silence. But Kakashi didn’t move.
“Do you need anything?” he asked.
Sasuke almost said no.
Instead, he waited. He shifted closer to the door, loud enough for Kakashi to hear him move.
“A towel. And… clothes.”
“Can I grab clothes from your room?” Kakashi asked.
Sasuke blinked. He hadn’t expected that question. “Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Steps faded down the hall first, then traveled back up into the bedroom.
“Here,” Kakashi said as he returned.
Sasuke unlocked the door, cracking it just enough to stick his hand out. Heavy fabric landed in his palm. He snatched it into the bathroom, snapping the door shut the moment it was through.
Black sweatpants, a plain t-shirt, and underwear were rolled in the center of a large, fluffy towel.
Sasuke got dressed quickly—too quickly—he nearly slipped. He caught himself on the porcelain.
Kakashi heard it. “Sasuke, I smell blood. Are you alright?”
Sasuke looked in the mirror.
The bite mark looked worse than it’d ever been. The edges were angry, flushed pink and throbbing with warmth. It burned.
“Can I come in?” Kakashi asked.
Sasuke’s eyes stung with unshed tears. He blinked them away. This was humiliating. What was wrong with him? He didn’t want Kakashi to see him like this, but he didn’t know what else to do.
He let out a shaky breath and unlocked the door.
The doorknob turned slowly. Sasuke was dressed, but disheveled, holding himself tightly with his eyes on the floor.
Kakashi didn’t comment on that. Or the water. He glanced at the floor once, but his eyes stayed on Sasuke’s neck.
“I’m going to get the med-kit,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I’ll be right back.”
He waited for Sasuke to nod before he left.
Kakashi returned within seconds, but he slowed down as he reentered the bathroom. He opened the kit on the counter and knelt in front of Sasuke.
“I’m going to clean it,” he said as he opened a bottle of antiseptic.
The smell was sharp in Sasuke’s nose. It wasn’t right. But it was almost right. Almost like camphor, but without the earthy undertone, and sharp enough to sting. Sasuke didn’t turn away from it.
Kakashi soaked a cloth with the antiseptic and closed the cap. “Sorry about the smell. It dries fast.” He shifted closer to Sasuke. “This might sting,” he said as he held the cloth up to his neck.
He waited, and when Sasuke didn’t protest, he gently dabbed the wound. Sasuke winced, but he held still.
“All clean,” Kakashi said as the medicinal smell faded. He pulled out a fresh roll of bandages and held them out to Sasuke. “Do you want to do it?”
Sasuke looked at the bandages. He should have taken them to restore whatever scrap of dignity he had left. But his arms were stiff, his fingers still gripping the towel tight.
He shook his head.
Kakashi proceeded slowly. He held the bandage in place with a touch Sasuke could hardly feel. He closed his eyes and swayed a bit as his neck was wrapped in layers.
“There, all done,” Kakashi said as he tucked the end of the bandage. It wasn’t too tight, but it felt secure.
Sasuke opened his eyes. The light was too bright. He blinked and saw spots.
“Why don’t you go lie down for a bit?” Kakashi suggested.
Sasuke shook his head. “I made a mess,” he muttered, looking down at the floor.
“Don’t worry about that,” Kakashi replied. “You’re not feeling well. I’ll clean it up.”
Sasuke didn’t move at first. It took a moment for his limbs to unlock. Kakashi took the towel and stepped aside, clearing the doorway. The tile was cold against Sasuke’s feet as he stepped out of the bathroom.
Looking at his bed made him nauseous, so he grabbed the pillowcase and his mother’s blanket and dragged his feet to the living room.
He fell into the amber chair. He draped the blanket over his head and curled up as small as he could. Clutching the pillowcase close to his nose, he breathed in the smell of his parents.
He hated feeling like this. His skin felt wrong. He wanted to go home. But the home he wanted didn’t exist anymore. It hadn’t existed since Itachi presented as an alpha and started looking at him differently.
Footsteps returned to the living room. Sasuke could feel Kakashi’s eye on him through the blanket. The steps got closer. He heard the couch creak, but not close this time. Further away. Maybe in the middle.
“Do you want some water?” Kakashi asked.
“No,” Sasuke rasped. He wanted to be left alone.
Or, he thought he did. But when he heard the couch creak again and Kakashi get up, he frowned and pressed his face into his knees.
He had no idea what he wanted.
It became harder to breathe as the blanket filled with his exhale, but he didn’t move it. He traced Kakashi’s steps into the kitchen and back into the hall. Cabinets shutting. Objects moved. He was organizing, cleaning, or unpacking something, but his movements were light.
Just as Sasuke began to nod off at the rhythm of it, there was a knock at the front door. He threw the blanket off himself and sat up straight.
Kakashi was between him and the door in an instant, his hand already out towards Sasuke. “It’s just Iruka,” he reassured.
Sasuke exhaled and sat back. He’d forgotten.
Kakashi opened the front door. They exchanged words that Sasuke couldn’t quite hear, and the smell of oregano and warm stone met his nose. Sasuke realized that was the smell he couldn't place when he first arrived.
Iruka was carrying several large paper bags. “Hey, Sasuke!” He called as he disappeared into the kitchen. Paper rustled as the bags thumped onto the table.
Sasuke watched them as though he could see through the wall, listening closely to the sound of the fridge and cabinets opening and closing as the groceries were put away.
Iruka laughed. Sasuke wondered what was funny. He crossed his arms and drew his knees a little tighter.
“Whew! It’s warm today,” Iruka said as he opened a bottle of water and sat on the chair opposite Sasuke. Kakashi settled on the couch between them.
“I wasn’t sure what kind of meals you like, but I knew if I didn’t bring something, you’d be eating rations for dinner,” Iruka said with a chuckle. He was far too cheery.
“You brought the whole store with you,” Kakashi said dryly.
“You needed essentials. Grains, spices, milk, butter, the list goes on. I can pick up a cookbook, too, if you need one.”
“I think we have a few in the attic,” Kakashi tilted his head towards the staircase beneath the wolves.
“Open one up sometime,” Iruka instructed. "You need it."
“Aye, aye,” Kakashi replied.
Sasuke’s eyes darted between them as they bantered, his stomach uneasy. He didn’t like the way Iruka was looking at Kakashi. Or the way he barked commands as if he belonged there.
“Have you seen your bedroom yet?” Iruka asked, his eyes drifting to Sasuke.
“I did.”
“I know the bed might seem strange, at first—“
“You got me a dog bed,” Sasuke snapped.
Kakashi's eye widened, but he didn't intervene.
“It’s not a—" Iruka cut himself off and cleared his throat. “It’s alright if you don’t like it. I just thought, well…”
“You thought that since I’m an omega now, I need to be coddled. That I can’t have something normal.”
“No, that’s not it at all.” Iruka shook his head. “It helped me a lot, when…” His face flushed pink as he scratched the back of his head. “I was living on my own, when I presented. My parents had died a couple of years prior. I was terrified and had no idea what was happening to me. An omega woman in my neighborhood gifted me a nesting bed to cope.”
He shook his head again and met Sasuke’s gaze. “I know it looks silly, especially as a shinobi. But it really does help.”
“No, it doesn’t!” Sasuke snapped. “Everything about it felt wrong!”
Iruka’s eyes widened. “You tried it?”
Sasuke’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and his mouth locked shut. He’d said too much.
“It’s completely normal for nesting to feel wrong at first, especially if you haven’t figured out what your instincts need yet,” Iruka said matter-of-factly, like this wasn’t mortifying.
He didn’t want to talk about this in front of Kakashi. He didn’t want to talk about it at all, actually.
“I won’t be offended if you decide you don’t want it,” Iruka said. “Change is hard. I get it.”
Sasuke pulled the blanket up a little higher. He didn’t want to be looked at anymore.
Iruka got the hint. He turned to Kakashi and smiled, though it looked forced. “Well, I should get going. If you need anything else, you know how to reach me.”
“Thank you, Iruka. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He said it like that was a casual thing to say.
Sasuke’s brow pinched as he watched Kakashi walk Iruka out.
“Bye, Sasuke!” Iruka waved from the door.
Sasuke didn’t respond.
Iruka’s smile only faltered a little. He said goodbye to Kakashi one more time before the door closed.
Kakashi didn’t come back to the living room right away. He stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, then disappeared into the kitchen.
He came back with two glasses of water and sat on the corner of the couch.
Sasuke peeked more of his head out of the blanket, but he didn’t reach for the glass.
The silence felt tense. Sasuke wondered if Kakashi was upset with how he had spoken to Iruka. Maybe he should apologize—
“Are you hungry?” Kakashi asked.
Sasuke blinked. “Yeah.”
“I can make miso and rice,” he suggested. “Or, Iruka brought us pork I could stir fry with veggies… or, I could make toast. I make excellent toast.”
Sasuke huffed out an almost laugh. “Miso’s good.”
“I’ll go start the rice, then,” Kakashi smiled through his mask and slipped into the kitchen.
Sasuke didn’t move from the chair for a while. He listened carefully to every move Kakashi made from the other side of the wall: steps on tile, cabinets opening and closing, the click of the rice cooker. Nothing slammed, and he didn’t move fast.
Slowly, Sasuke pushed himself out of the chair, leaving the blanket and pillowcase behind. He shuffled to the doorway of the kitchen.
Kakashi glanced up only briefly, but turned back to the tofu he was chopping. The knife moved quick, but made hardly any sound against the wooden cutting board as he sliced them into perfect cubes.
“Do you prefer yellow miso or red?” He asked. “We have both.”
Sasuke shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll go with red, then.” Kakashi put a pot of water to boil.
Sasuke slowly slunk to the table—or, booth. The kitchen table was a round restaurant booth, bolted into the ground. The plastic squeaked beneath him as he sat.
“Where did all this stuff come from?” Sasuke asked, glancing around the room.
“Well, Iruka brought all these groceries about twenty minutes ago.”
Sasuke rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.”
Kakashi laughed dryly. “Most of it is older than I am,” he said as he chopped green onions. “Relics from all over the Shinobi Nations, artwork from small villages, books on any topic you could think of. This place is a treasure trove, if you like that kind of thing.”
Sasuke looked around. Even the kitchen was filled with oddities. A light switch cover in the shape of a rooster, a soap dispenser that looked like a black cat, a paper towel holder made of bone.
“Why is it yours, now?” Sasuke asked.
“It was… given to me.” His voice got quieter. “Soup's almost done.”
That wasn’t a clean deflection by Kakashi’s standards, but Sasuke didn’t push. He got up from the table and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. Kakashi stepped aside to let him go first.
He served himself a small portion of rice and a full bowl of miso. It was too hot to eat right away.
Kakashi sat across from him, but the table was small. Petrichor and mist blended with the savory broth. Sasuke's shoulders fell a fraction, and he picked up his chopsticks.
Sasuke couldn't eat very fast. He was hungry, but the act of bringing food to his mouth was harder than it should have been.
Kakashi finished first. He leaned back in the booth, exhaling dramatically. “I was starving,” he said as he rubbed his stomach.
More than half of Sasuke’s miso was left. Half of the rice, too. He took another bite, trying not to linger in the kitchen for too long.
Kakashi stood up and dropped his bowl into the sink. “No rush,” he said as he turned the water on and started doing dishes.
Sasuke slowed back down. Kakashi leaned against the counter, drinking water. He wasn't watching Sasuke, but he didn't leave, either.
It took him a while, but Sasuke finished all of it. He took his dishes to the sink and washed them, just like Kakashi did.
A yawn so big it made his jaw tremble pushed through Sasuke’s mouth. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. All it took was some protein and carbs for his body to crash.
He dragged his feet to the living room and curled back into the amber chair.
Kakashi followed shortly after, settling into the couch again. “You can recline it, if you want.”
“Huh?”
“The chair,” Kakashi clarified. “It reclines. There’s a lever on the side.” He pointed to the far side of the chair.
Sasuke looked down. There was a long wooden handle sticking out of the side. He pulled it back, and the bottom of the chair sprang out like a board, startling Sasuke enough to jump.
Kakashi chuckled. “Don’t have anything like that at home, huh?”
Sasuke shook his head.
“Try leaning back,” Kakashi suggested.
The back of the chair pushed back with him, reclining almost flat. His eyes widened in awe of just how comfy it was.
He had to keep pressure on the back for it to stay reclined. Aware of Kakashi’s eyes on him, he didn’t rub or roll this time. Instead, he just pushed his face into it—hard, and pulled the blanket over his head.
“Want a pillow?” Kakashi asked.
“Mhmm,” Sasuke hummed sleepily.
The couch creaked. Footsteps left. Then returned.
“Here,” Kakashi said as something soft was placed on top of the blanket cocoon.
Sasuke snatched it into the blanket and held it close to his chest. He stiffened when he heard Kakashi’s footsteps trail towards the hall again.
“You’re leaving?” Sasuke asked from beneath the blanket. He regretted it as soon as he said it—the words sounded small in his throat.
“I was going to take a quick shower, put on something comfortable. But I can wait a bit longer, if you want.”
“S’fine,” Sasuke muttered. “Will you come back?”
“Yes, I’ll come back.”
Satisfied, Sasuke settled back into the chair and said nothing else. Kakashi’s steps trailed down the hall.
His eyes stung even while closed, watering at the edges from exhaustion. Still, Sasuke didn’t sleep. He listened to the pipes running water in the walls, and the distant muffled movements in the master bedroom.
Finally, footsteps returned, and the smell of petrichor came with it.
Sasuke peeked his head out of the blanket as Kakashi settled into the couch. He wore gray sweatpants, a black tank top, and brought a pillow with him. Sasuke couldn’t help but stare. He’d never seen his sensei this… comfortable. There was an ANBU tattoo on his arm. It looked just like Itachi’s.
“I thought you’d be asleep by now, with how tired you are,” Kakashi said as he pulled a little green book out of his pocket.
“Hn,” Sasuke replied sleepily. His blinks grew longer, but he didn’t let them close.
“You don’t have to use the bed if you don’t like it,” Kakashi said as he turned the page. “You can sleep wherever you’re comfortable.”
Sasuke rubbed his eyes again. “I’m sorry I was rude,” he muttered.
“That’s alright," Kakashi said with a chuckle. "Iruka can get ahead of himself sometimes. He means well, though.”
Another hum. Sasuke knew he should be grateful, or at least, that’s what his parents would say. But he didn’t ask for his help. He didn’t ask for a nesting bed.
“I’ll keep watch,” Kakashi said softly. “You can sleep.”
Sasuke finally closed his eyes. He curled into the amber chair, still hugging the pillow.
He fell asleep with mint in his nose and the sound of pages turning.