Chapter Text
Sasuke woke to the smell of coffee.
For a moment, he forgot where he was, half-expecting his father to scold him for sleeping on the couch. He was the only one in the house who drank coffee.
Sasuke sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The prancing wolves were the first thing he saw when he blinked the blurriness away. Last night returned to him in pieces, and he sighed.
He’d made a fool of himself already.
The sting of his neck and blood under his nails, snapping at Iruka, begging Kakashi not to leave—all of it made him want to disappear.
Kakashi emerged from the kitchen holding a mug with pigs painted all over it. “You’re awake,” he observed as he sat down on the couch. “You hungry?”
Sasuke shrugged.
Kakashi accepted the non-answer without pressing. He set the mug on the low table and leaned back into the couch like it was an ordinary morning.
“I made eggs and toast,” Kakashi offered after a pause. “If you want.”
Sasuke hummed, though he wasn’t sure he could eat. His stomach felt hollow. The smell of coffee hung heavy in the air, warm and bitter. Underneath it was Kakashi’s scent—minty, calm, and irritatingly stable.
Sasuke straightened slightly, shoulders drawing back into something closer to a formal posture.
Kakashi took a slow drink, then glanced at him over the rim of the mug. “Sleep alright?”
Sasuke hesitated. “…Yes.” It wasn’t a lie, but his voice came out like it was. He slept deeply—dangerously so. No dreams, and he didn’t wake once.
His gaze drifted toward the kitchen doorway. The faint smell of toasted bread reached him now, warm and familiar. He realized, belatedly, that Kakashi had been awake long enough to make breakfast. He was waiting for Sasuke.
Heat crept onto Sasuke’s face.
Outside, birds chirped, and the wind chimes joined them in song. There was a kind of silence out there in the woods that Sasuke had never heard before. He was used to movement, bustling, distant voices, and merchant carts squeaking.
Everything was so… still.
Sasuke stretched his arms behind his head with a yawn. He tried to get up, but the chair was still reclined. He wasn’t sure how to fix it. Did he just—
All it took was his legs pressing down a bit for it to snap back into place. Sasuke’s eyes widened as the chair jerked closed with a loud ping of the springs.
He shoved the blanket off with a huff and made his way to the kitchen. Kakashi chuckled into his coffee and followed.
On the counter sat a plate with two sunny-side-up eggs and a piece of buttered toast. The toaster clicked and sprang another piece of golden bread, which Kakashi promptly grabbed before sitting down at the booth.
Sasuke took the plate and made his way to the table.
Between the crunch of chewing and slow sips of coffee, the silence between them was heavy and awkward.
“I want to train,” Sasuke said as he finished his last bite.
“You’re still on medical leave,” Kakashi replied from behind his mug.
“For how long?”
“There are two parameters. First is your neck needs to heal. That could take another week or so.”
Sasuke groaned. “And the second?”
Kakashi set the cup down and met Sasuke’s eye with something like sympathy. “You’re expected to have a stable mate bond before returning to shinobi duties.”
“Why?” Sasuke asked, not hiding the annoyance in his tone. “Why do I need to be bonded to fight?”
Kakashi sighed. “The Hokage is convinced this is the best way to deter Itachi from pursuing you. He doesn’t want you on the field until that happens.”
Sasuke frowned. “But you said you wouldn’t bite me.”
“And I meant it,” Kakashi replied. “I think we can fake it.”
Sasuke’s mouth opened, then closed again. For a moment, he just stared at Kakashi, who looked far too calm for what he just suggested. Sasuke’s face must have been mortified because Kakashi immediately started damage control.
“We wouldn’t have to—“ he cut himself off and tried again. “Appearances could be minimal,” he offered.
Sasuke didn’t reply at first. His mind went still, but words still spilled out like they were waiting behind his teeth. “We’d have to act like it’s real, or it won’t work.” His voice turned cold. “Itachi won’t fall for something half-assed.”
It was Kakashi’s turn to look surprised. “No,” he said quietly. “He won’t.”
Neither of them spoke for a minute after that. Sasuke stared at the grain of the table. It was printed to look like wood beneath a sheet of glass.
Kakashi leaned forward a bit, his eye holding Sasuke’s gaze. “You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked.
“If it gets me back on the field, then yes,” Sasuke replied. It was a condition to meet, he reminded himself. That’s all it had to be.
“We’d have to scent each other daily, maybe twice a day if we’re in public,” Kakashi explained.
Sasuke nodded, but his fingers tightened around the edge of the booth. It made sense, but the thought of others smelling Kakashi on his skin made him shift in his seat.
“You’d stick close to me, to look convincing. We’d both have to act like there’s a pull to the other.”
A pull to the other. Another nod, like Sasuke knew what that meant. He’d been so eager to get away from Itachi, he hadn’t let himself think about what a matebond would actually be like. He had no idea what he was agreeing to when he was given that list. Not really.
Now, the thought of even pretending to be bonded made his stomach uneasy. It was hard to believe they’d convince anyone, but he was willing to try.
“Okay,” Sasuke said more confidently than he felt.
Kakashi watched Sasuke’s face carefully. “We could start as soon as your heat passes. I’ll file the claim as official, and that’s that.”
“They’re not going to, uh…” Sasuke’s hand hovered over his bandages. “Check?”
“They shouldn’t. That’s a very personal mark. Asking for an inspection would be highly unusual.”
“But not unheard of?”
Kakashi sighed. “No, not unheard of. But I’d advocate for your privacy. You already have trauma with your neck. It wouldn’t be a hard sell.”
Sasuke’s face twitched at the word trauma, but he didn’t argue with it. There was something more pressing he needed the courage to discuss.
“About the uh—“ His face flushed a deep red. He couldn’t bring himself to say heat out loud. “I haven’t ever, I mean, my mom said it could take a while for the first one to happen…” his voice got quieter, almost a whisper.
Kakashi paused. Sasuke could see the cogs turning in his brain.
“Your presentation was only a few weeks ago. That’s normal. It’ll come when it’s time.”
Sasuke didn’t want it to come at all. There were a lot of things he wanted to ask, none of which he wanted to ask Kakashi.
What’s going to happen to me? Will you stay away from me? Is it really as bad as they make it seem?
Kakashi was looking at him like he knew Sasuke was scared. He just waited.
“I don’t know what to expect,” Sasuke settled.
Kakashi hummed and didn’t answer right away. Sasuke watched his fingers tap the handle of the mug.
“To be honest with you, I don’t either. I’ve never lived with an omega before. I’ve cared for civilians in heat on missions, but that’s not the same. I have a lot to learn, too.”
That was… surprising. It felt childish to admit to himself, but he thought Kakashi knew everything.
“I’ll go to the library, maybe ask Iruka if he has any recommendations,” Kakashi suggested as he picked his pig mug back up. “I think we could both benefit from some research.”
Sasuke crossed his arms. “You’re giving me gender homework?” he grumbled. He didn’t want to read about omega stuff. If he was going to study, he wanted it to be chakra seals or jutsu techniques.
“Yep,” Kakashi said with a laugh. “Two student class, no teacher, and no curriculum. We’ll figure it out.”
Sasuke put his chin on the table with a pout on his lip. “So I can’t train at all?” he whined.
Kakashi took a sip of his coffee. He looked like he was considering it.
“Some movement might be good for you,” he admitted. Just as Sasuke sat up with a smirk on his face, Kakashi gave a stern look over his mug. “Light exercise only. Stretching and minimal kata at most. No drills. No chakra. Got it?”
Sasuke rolled his eyes. “You act like I’m going to combust if I use an ounce of chakra.”
“If you overdo it and catch a fever, it’ll be even longer before you’re active duty again. Be smart.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Sasuke stood up and put his plate in the sink. Kakashi followed and put his empty cup next to it.
“You can train in the back,” Kakashi offered as he turned on the water and rinsed off the dishes.
Sasuke’s eyes drifted to the living room window that peered into the backyard. The Nara woods were dense. There was only a small clearing of grass, the edges of the yard blending into the forest. Something about the trees looked… off.
“You want company?” Kakashi asked without looking up from the sink.
“Sure,” Sasuke said casually, but his shoulders fell with relief. He didn’t want to be in the woods alone.
Sasuke hustled to his bedroom and got dressed in his usual training gear. He adjusted the hem of his shirt to hide his bandages as he walked back down the hall.
Kakashi waited by the back door, sleeves pushed up, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
“Ready?” he asked.
Sasuke nodded once, and Kakashi slid the door open. Warm air drifted inside, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine.
The grass was so long, the clearing was more of a field than a yard. Mangled roots and branches overtook parts of the deteriorating fence, making it more of a suggestion than a border.
Sasuke ignored the tightness in his chest as the trees creaked and bristled in the wind.
Focus.
He moved to the center of the clearing and rolled his shoulders, beginning with the stretches Kakashi had drilled into Team 7 months ago: neck rotations, arm extensions, controlled breathing.
Kakashi leaned against a fence post, observing without comment.
Sasuke transitioned into slow kata, movements precise. His balance felt good. Footwork clean. Muscles responded. He upped his speed—just a little, and settled into a rhythm. A pivot. A strike. He ignored the sting in his neck when he turned too quickly.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
The fatigue arrived without warning. His arms felt heavier first, like weights had been tied to his wrists. Breath shortened sooner than it should have.
He could at least do thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes was nothing.
But his feet were slowing down. The pain in his neck flared, and his breath hitched.
“That’s enough for today,” Kakashi called from the fence.
“I’m just getting started,” Sasuke huffed as he forced his arms up again.
Another strike, but he stumbled—his footing wasn’t right. Kakashi was there in an instant, hands gripping Sasuke’s arms to stabilize him, bringing him to a halt.
“You used to push me to keep going,” Sasuke spat between breaths. “You always say one more set!” He kept his eyes on the ground.
Kakashi didn’t let go. Instead, he adjusted his grip so he held Sasuke‘s wrists. “I’m not acting as your teacher right now,” he said, his voice softening.
The clearing seemed to tilt beneath Sasuke’s feet before the meaning of the words even set in. Kakashi wasn’t his teacher anymore? That wasn’t part of the deal. That wasn’t fair.
Sasuke couldn’t stop his scent from spiking with fear, turning the air damp and sour. “You’re not going to teach me anymore?” he asked, his voice rising into something like panic.
“That’s not what I said—“
“I’m still a shinobi! I’m not weak,” he snapped as he pulled his wrists out of Kakashi’s grip.
“I know that,” Kakashi replied, unfazed by the outburst. “You are not weak. But you are hurt. Training will go back to how it was as soon as you’re healed.”
Sasuke finally looked at him. The mint in the air was cold with worry.
“Promise?” he muttered. He hated how childish it sounded. But he needed to know he wouldn’t be treated that way forever.
“I promise.”
Kakashi didn’t tease him or make a joke like Sasuke expected him to. He said it like he meant it.
The reassurance didn’t settle the tightness in his chest the way Sasuke expected it to, though.
Kakashi wasn’t his teacher right now.
The words still hung in the air.
If Kakashi wasn’t acting as his sensei… then what did that make them? Just an alpha and an omega? Even if they were going to try and convince everyone that they were mates, that didn’t make them…
He didn’t let himself finish that thought.
The clearing got very, very quiet. The birds stopped chirping. The wind was gone. Even the chimes stopped singing. Sasuke’s ears rang against the silence.
Loud rustling jostled the bushes behind them. Sasuke whipped around fast, turning his attention to the dense thicket of trees.
Nothing else moved, but a terrible chill crawled down Sasuke’s spine. It reminded him of Zabuza—maybe not as bad. Definitely not as bad. But he still wanted to run.
His muscles wouldn’t move, though. He stayed frozen, staring down the bushes like a deer eyeing a wolf.
Kakashi’s eye stayed on Sasuke. “You alright?” he asked.
“These woods… are different than the ones to the south,” Sasuke shuddered as he took an unconscious step toward Kakashi.
“Well, that makes sense,” Kakashi agreed with a shrug. “They’re haunted.”
“What?” Sasuke stopped and stared at him, dumbfounded.
Kakashi just blinked at him. He didn’t elaborate.
“Are you messing with me?” Sasuke asked.
“It would be so funny if I were,” Kakashi replied dryly. “But no. I’m serious. Ideal for protection, not so much for the nerves.”
Sasuke looked back at the bush. The canopy was thick enough to blanket ground in shadow, causing pockets of darkness to scatter the ground despite the afternoon sun.
“C’mon,” Kakashi called as he took a step towards the house, still looking at Sasuke. “Let’s go inside, before the ghosts get us.”
Sasuke rolled his eyes.
Kakashi was definitely messing with him.
He followed back into the house, but hesitated at the doorway to look at the backyard one more time.
The birds were singing again.
Kakashi closed the door behind him. Sasuke settled into his amber chair and kicked his sandals off. He crossed his arms and drew his knees up.
Only fifteen minutes of training, and he was exhausted. And he was afraid of trees. How embarrassing.
“Want tea?” Kakashi asked from the kitchen doorway.
“Only if it’s green,” Sasuke replied grumpily.
“Green it is,” Kakashi said with a smile in his voice before disappearing into the kitchen.
Sasuke didn’t move from the chair. He kept his knees pulled up and his chin resting on them, staring at the wolves above the staircase like they’d tell him something useful if he looked long enough.
Kakashi returned with a tray holding two cups of green tea. He set it down on the low table, steam curling in thin white ribbons between them.
“Here.” Kakashi slid one of the cups a little closer.
Sasuke reached for it without a word.
Kakashi sat on the couch across from him, one ankle resting over the opposite knee. He seemed relaxed, but Sasuke could smell the concern in the thickness of the petrichor.
Kakashi leaned back into the couch with a sigh. “There’s a library not too far from here,” he pointed out. “I was thinking of heading over.”
Sasuke’s brows furrowed. “Already?”
“The sooner we start, the more prepared we’ll be,” Kakashi replied. “Maybe I’ll find something useful.”
Sasuke huffed softly into his cup. “You mean omega books.”
“Maa, probably.” Kakashi tilted his head. “Do you want to come?”
“No.”
The answer came faster than Sasuke intended, clipped and flat.
Kakashi didn’t look offended. He just took another sip of tea. “Alright,” he said as he set his cup down. “You okay with being on your own for a bit?”
Sasuke bristled immediately. “I’m not a child.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You keep acting like I’ll break if you look away for five seconds.”
“That’s not what this is.”
Sasuke looked away first. He didn’t want to know what it was.
Kakashi’s scent shifted faintly, cool rain over stone. Not hurt or anger. Something more complicated than that.
Sasuke buried his nose in his mom's blanket.
“If anyone steps within a kilometer of the property, I’ll know,” Kakashi said after a while. “There’s a seal woven into the perimeter. It alerts me through my chakra, no matter where I am.”
Sasuke blinked and looked back at him. “That far?” he asked.
Kakashi nodded. “The house is better protected than it looks.”
That… did make him feel better. More than it probably should have. He tried not to let it show. “Fine,” he muttered. “Then yes. I’ll be fine. Just go already.”
Kakashi studied him for a moment, as though weighing whether to push. Then he stood.
“I won’t be long,” he assured as he picked up the tray. “There’s more tea in the kettle if you want it.”
Sasuke gave a vague hum and watched him disappear into the kitchen.
Ceramic clinked in the sink. Sandals shuffled. The screen creaked. The door clicked shut. A moment later, the wind chimes sang.
And then the house went quiet.
Sasuke stared at the entryway for a long time after Kakashi left, his tea cooling untouched in his hands.
The silence pressed in differently, causing Sasuke to go very still.
He finally got what he wanted. Space. A moment to himself where he wasn’t being watched like something fragile that might die on its own.
The house hadn’t changed. The kitchen was still warm from breakfast, his cup still full. The chair still smelled faintly of earth and old fabric and his own sweetgrass where it clung to the cushion.
But the mint was fading.
Sasuke frowned and pulled the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders.
He was still mad.
Mad that Kakashi said he wasn’t his teacher right now.
Mad that Kakashi grabbed his wrists like that.
Mad that he still smelled rotten with fear all the time, even though Itachi was gone.
Sasuke set his cup down and pushed himself out of the chair. He paced once through the living room, then into the kitchen, then back again.
The house creaked around him. Somewhere outside, birds chirped in the trees. Sasuke glanced at the back door.
No one was there.
Of course, no one was there.
He moved down the hall and stopped at the doorway to his room. The bed sat in the center, stupid and round and soft. His face burned just looking at it.
He grabbed a change of clothes, a towel from the cupboard in the hall (which he now knew stored towels and linens), and headed to the bathroom.
Turning the water as hot as he could stand it, Sasuke let the burn of his skin distract him from the ache in his chest.
Stupid. So stupid.
Missing his mother was one thing. Missing his house was another. Missing Kakashi after being gone for five minutes was not a thing. Absolutely not.
‘I’m not acting as your sensei right now.’
It didn’t matter what Kakashi called it. It didn’t matter what anyone called it. Whatever it was, it was temporary. A plan. A lie to get him back on the field and away from Itachi.
That was it.
He stayed under the water until it started to cool, until the heat faded and left him with nothing but damp skin and a chest that still ached.
Kakashi didn’t take the rooftops.
It would’ve been faster, but the afternoon was warm, and his thoughts were loud enough without the wind in his ears. So he kept to the roads instead, hands tucked in his pockets as he wandered through the village.
The forest’s stillness clung to him even after he left the property. It was always like that—stepping out of his father’s house felt like stepping through a portal back to the waking world.
He supposed it wasn’t his father’s house anymore. It was his.
And Sasuke’s.
The village met him all at once: cart wheels rattling over stone, merchants shouting prices, children shrieking in play, the scent of grilled meat and summer heat, and too many bodies moving.
It wasn’t enough to stop the replay. He couldn’t shake the look on Sasuke’s face in the yard.
The words had slipped out too easily. He hadn’t meant them the way Sasuke heard them. He knew that much from the way the boy’s scent spiked—fear beneath sweetgrass, damp and dying. It reminded him of the night Sasuke clung to his mother in fear beneath a glowing red blade.
The kid had lost everything. Of course, he didn’t want to lose his sensei, too. Being his teacher was the reason he trusted Kakashi enough to choose him in the first place.
But “teacher” no longer covered what his life was becoming. The shape of things had shifted, and every time Kakashi reached for language to explain it, the words came back wrong.
Mate was the lie.
Guardian was true, but too formal.
Definitely not a parent.
Caretaker was too soft.
Alpha made his skin crawl.
He shoved the cycling thoughts away as the library came into view at the end of the street, broad-roofed and shaded by two old maple trees. The air changed as he stepped through the door—cooler, dry with old paper and cedar shelves. The familiar smell did well to ease his nerves.
Kakashi walked deeper into the stacks with what he hoped looked like casual purpose, making a brief detour through military strategy just in case anyone was paying attention.
No one seemed to be. A young mother chased her toddler out of the poetry aisle. Two chunin browsed the mission records shelf. An elderly beta sat near the windows, reading a newspaper with the concentration of a man decoding an ancient fuinjutsu.
Kakashi turned into the medical section.
He found the general anatomy shelves first, then medical ninjutsu, then, finally, a smaller subsection devoted to gender health. His pace slowed. He stood there for a moment, eye tracing titles stamped in faded ink across the spines.
Omega Physiology and Development
Domestic Pairing and Bond Behavior
The Presented Body: A Care Manual for Adolescents
With a look over his shoulder, he quickly slipped several titles under his arm, almost at random. He felt ridiculous, sneaking around the library like it was an infiltration mission.
He found another on male omegas specifically, then one on nesting behavior. He frowned at the cover illustration—soft quilts and smiling omegas in pastel robes—and put it back. Then, after a second thought, he took it again anyway.
Sasuke would hate it, but useful information was useful information, even if the cover art was terrible.
He added one final book for omega shinobi and turned to leave, only to stop short and glance once more down the aisle. Nothing. No curious eyes. No recognizable jōnin. No gossip-starved civilians.
Maybe he really would make it out unnoticed.
He headed for the front desk.
The librarian on duty was an older omega woman with iron-gray hair braided down her back and half-moon spectacles perched low on her nose. Kakashi had seen her before, though he didn’t know her name.
Her eyes dropped to the stack in his arms. Then lifted to his face. Then dropped back down to the books.
Kakashi set them on the desk as though this were a perfectly ordinary selection. “Afternoon.”
“Mm,” she replied, already sorting the stack with deft fingers. “Afternoon.”
She stamped the first book without a word, then glanced up at him as she took the second. “A pup presented?” she asked as she stamped the check-out slip and slipped it in the cover.
“Mmm, something like that.” Was lying to librarians considered bad karma?
“The bonding titles may be a bit much for a new presentation. But I suppose it’s never too early for education,” she muttered to herself as she stamped another slip.
Kakashi shifted his weight uncomfortably.
She paused at the title on male omegas. With only a quick dip beneath the desk, she replaced it with a slimmer volume.
“That one’s for physicians,” she explained, pointing at the larger book. “This one is for caretakers.” She didn’t ask if he wanted to switch them. Just scanned it and stamped the slip before placing the other copy behind the desk.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
She hummed and slid the last book over as she closed the cover.
“Some advice from an old omega with six children, for whatever it’s worth,” she said with a rasp in her voice that made her sound older than her face. “… is to not hover. Don’t take it personally if they’re moody. Adolescence is a tough time for all of us, omegas worst of all.”
Kakashi let out a nervous exhale. “Thank you,” he said again.
She smiled and waved him off.
His arms were too full of books to hold comfortably. Hustling as quickly as he could without drawing attention, he descended the library stairs and stepped back into the street.
Just as he thought he’d made it out without too much hassle, a familiar voice called from behind.
“Doin’ a little research, Kakashi?”
Anko.
Kakashi turned slowly, trying to hide the titles with his arms while still appearing natural.
Unsuccessfully.
Anko stood there with three scroll cases under one arm and two red books clutched to her chest. She laughed. “That’s not your usual reading material. Looks like medical stuff—”
She stopped laughing, her brows pinching as she examined them closer. Then, she grinned from ear to ear.
He tried to turn away, but she slithered right in front of him again, blocking his path.
“Whoa, whoa, not so fast there, scarecrow. Omega care? You got a mate?” she asked.
“None of your business, as usual, Anko,” he deflected as he slipped past her.
The beta blocked his path again.
“Move,” he commanded.
“No,” she replied with a twirl of her hair, which looked ridiculous with arms full of scrolls and books.
He sighed. “What do you want?”
She bit her lip as it curled up into a devious smile. “Do I know them? Man or woman? What do they smell like?” She leaned forward, trying to get a whiff.
Kakashi took a clean step back, pointedly avoiding her nose.
“Again, none of your business. I have to go.” He turned back towards the road heading north.
“Yeah, cause you got an omega at home waiting for you?” she teased.
Kakashi felt his cheeks grow warm. Thankfully, Anko couldn’t see beneath his mask.
She didn’t chase him this time, but she kept giggling until he couldn’t hear her anymore.
Great.
It was only a matter of time before people knew, anyway. But he’d hoped to have a little more time before the rumor mill began. There was a zero-sum chance Anko would keep her mouth shut.
He should have asked the librarian if she had a bag.
Sasuke hadn’t meant to fall asleep. One minute, he was reading a strange home essentials magazine issued thirty years ago, the next, he was waking up with drool on the amber chair as the front door clicked open.
He sat up straight, listening carefully. He quickly realized there wasn’t a weapon within arm's reach. When the smell of mint and rain entered his nose, he exhaled and sat back in the chair.
Kakashi was back. Sasuke hated how quickly his body responded to his scent, relaxing before he even knew why. He clicked his tongue, frustrated with how predictable he was becoming.
“Welcome back,” he called, aiming for bored as he wiped the drool from his cheek.
“Miss me already?” Kakashi answered from the kitchen.
“No,” he spat out too quickly.
Kakashi strode into the living room carrying a lot of books.
“Did you bring the entire library with you?” Sasuke asked.
“Maa, figured I’d save myself a second trip. Who would have guessed the library had so many books?” he replied jokingly as he set them down on the glass table. Even with careful movement, there was a loud thud as they hit the glass.
Sasuke scanned the titles. His eyes lingered on The Omega Shinobi: A Practical Guide for Omegas in the Field for a while, then drifted to the others.
He frowned when he saw a cover of smiling omegas in pastel blankets. “Really?” he asked, holding it up dramatically.
Kakashi chuckled. “Cover art can be deceiving, you know. It might be good.”
“I don’t need a nesting guide!” He snapped. He suppressed the urge to throw the book across the room and settled on tossing it back onto the table.
“Then don’t use it,” he replied calmly. “These are resources, not required reading.”
Kakashi picked up the shinobi one and held it out to him. Sasuke took it with a roll of his eyes and leaned back in the chair.
He sighed as he opened the first page. Glancing up only briefly, he watched Kakashi pick up one about omega development.
Sasuke blushed and tucked his face back behind his own book.
He hated feeling like a specimen being studied. Trying not to think too hard about that, he scanned the table of contents.
Part I: Identification and Classification
- Recognizing Omega Status in the Field
- Reporting Requirements
- Command Classification and Restrictions
- Active Duty vs. Limited Duty Status
- Evaluation Criteria for Stability
Sasuke slowed down. This wasn’t a guide. It was a liability manual. His stomach twisted as he kept reading.
Part II: Cycle Management
- Tracking Cycles with Accuracy
- Methods of Record
- Recording Variations and Disruptions
- Signs of Early or Irregular Onset
- Containment Expectations
- Securing Safe Quarters
- Consequences of Failure to Self-Regulate
Sasuke let out a shaky breath at that last one. He swallowed hard before continuing.
Part III: Suppression and Control
- Use of Heat Suppressants and Scent Blockers
He stopped skimming and skipped straight to that section. He’d heard of blockers and suppressants. His father used scent blockers often. Maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with heats at all if he took the right medicine.
Finally on the right page, he dragged his finger along, reading as quickly as he could.
Scent blockers are recommended for all active duty missions for both omegas and alphas. Common side effects include restlessness or false instinct cues.
He skimmed further down until he found suppressants.
Suppressants are essential for infiltration, espionage, or similarly high-risk mission profiles that require prolonged stealth.
Suppressants are not to be used for more than two cycles at a time, as extended use can cause endocrine damage and psychological distress. Chronic use over time has been known to cause infertility and organ damage.
It is for these reasons that omegas are not typically considered for missions expected to exceed sixty days without access to a safe house, as doing so would put the omega’s health at risk.
Sasuke closed the book with a harsh snap.
“That’s not right,” he muttered to himself. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat.
“Hmm?” Kakashi hummed, glancing up from his own book.
Sasuke shook his head. He opened the book back up. Read it again. A third time.
Omegas are not typically considered…
He’d spent his whole life training toward a future that suddenly had footnotes. Exceptions. He wouldn’t be considered.
He looked back at Kakashi, who was silently watching Sasuke’s spiral.
“There are missions I can’t do,” he seethed.
Kakashi tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
Sasuke handed over the book and pointed to the passage. Kakashi set his own book aside and read it over.
“Okay, yes…. there are missions you wouldn’t typically be considered for,” Kakashi said slowly. He put the book down. “But that’s true for all shinobi, for all kinds of reasons. No one can do everything.”
“That’s not the same thing,” Sasuke argued. “I can’t train my way out of being an omega.”
“That is true,” Kakashi agreed. He paused in thought, leaning back on the couch but keeping his eyes on Sasuke. “Let’s look at it differently, then. You were born with a Sharingan. That’s a specialized genetic trait.”
“… And?”
“And, no one could train their way into possessing one. There are many missions you would be considered for first, just for your genetic makeup alone.”
Sasuke swallowed. He hated the way that made sense. His teammates would never have a Sharingan, just as he’d never be an alpha.
But that still wasn’t fair. Not having a Sharingan wasn’t the same as being treated like—
He couldn’t find the right words to explain what changed.
The way the clan talked about omegas—it was like they needed to be sorted and paired off. Ever since he presented, people looked at him differently, especially alphas. Especially Itachi.
He didn’t know how to articulate that feeling. Kakashi wouldn’t understand, anyway.
“So I just have to accept it, then? That I’m like this forever?” Sasuke asked.
“I know it seems impossible to consider right now,” Kakashi consoled, his voice quieting into almost a whisper. “But your life isn’t over. Being an omega isn’t a curse.”
“You wouldn’t know,” Sasuke spat. “Don’t act like you know anything about what this is like!”
Kakashi’s scent shifted. Rain turned warm, like the breeze before a storm. Sasuke closed his eyes and took a deep breath despite himself.
“You’re right,” Kakashi agreed. “I don’t know what it’s like. But I want to understand… At least, as much as I can.”
Sasuke almost argued back—“Why do you even care?” was on the tip of his tongue. But his throat burned with unshed tears. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack.
Pulling the blanket up to his neck, he curled up in the amber chair without another word. He turned his back to Kakashi, making it clear he was done with the conversation.
Kakashi didn’t move at first, sitting still in the silence of the outburst. He sighed and stacked the books neatly at the end of the table.
“I’ll be in the room for a bit,” he announced as he stood up. “My door is open if you need anything.”
Sasuke didn’t respond.
He listened to Kakashi’s steps fade down the hall, the creak of the floorboards sharp against the silence of the house.
For a moment, everything was still.
Then the chimes sang again, and Sasuke put his head down.
The smell of mint faded, and that hollow feeling in Sasuke’s chest returned.