Chapter Text

seven

Three Months, Three Weeks, Four Days

I can’t sleep.

Naruto slipped into limbo only to be dragged back into the conscious world by a head that wouldn’t rest and a heart that reacted to his memory’s cinema. Every angle of his body on the mattress was uncomfortable, his shirt was in the way, the pillow made his ears ring—but there was one way he knew to force himself to sleep.

Midnight air blew ripples through the training fields. Naruto breathed it, held it in his lungs, and expelled the coolness up through the centre of his chest and out through his nose. He brought his fingers together, and with a puff of smoke, a band of bunshin erupted in front of him.

“You’ve got five minutes to assemble as many targets as you can. Loser gets dispelled.”

In the end, one poor chakra mould with his face didn’t look pleased by its fate.

Naruto accidentally punched his fist through the first log dummy. The wood wasn’t as strong as he had given it credit for. If he wanted to have any success at endurance, he was going to have to learn how to make the wood rattle but not forfeit its shape. It took five more dummies to get it right and then Naruto was able to zone out to the repetitive smacking of his knuckles against the timber.

In one space, he tallied the hits to a thousand. In the other, he gave in to his thoughts if only to get rid of them.

We had sex and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it.

The rough logs grazed his skin, faint and fine enough that the fox took care of the sutures before the next round. Apart from the sigh of the breeze through the tree leaves, only the bunshin beside him mimicking his training with a rhythmic thud-thud disturbed the silence.

I have no idea why I let you but I know exactly why I let you.

Did I do the wrong thing? Did I do something bad?

These were the spun-circle of thoughts that had prevented Naruto from doing more than dozing. Sometimes he wanted to cancel them out, stop giving them attention, because thinking them wasn’t going to change the past anyway. Sometimes he allowed them because after long enough he was bound to feel too nauseous to bother with them.

Both ended at the same conclusion, to confess, but sometimes in the weaker moments of his wonderings, Naruto wasn’t sure if anyone would believe him even if he told them. If anyone would believe that he had just lain there and let it happen, with no evidence of the act except for his word and a dark stain in his carpet to remind him that three times wasn’t an accident anymore, with Uchiha Sasuke of all people.

But that’s what you wanted. That’s what you said.

Still kind of feels like a part of it was my own fault though.

Numbed hands put through a final strike that broke the wood apart. The bunshin followed his lead to a flurried crack of chips and splinters, and Naruto stared into the black backdrop of mountains in the distance while waiting for the next idea to arrive.

“I’ll race you,” one of the bunshin suggested. Another sprinted off, needing to hear no more than the gentle chime of a challenge, and the rest chased after it to a holler of get back here! cheater! gonna catch you and kick your ass! Naruto followed, gouging dirt and grass at the take-off, and pounded out a familiar perimeter around the field in pursuit of the mob.

I got off on it. That’s the problem.

Complicated.

So what has Sakura-chan been doing?

If there was something going on, Naruto hoped it was different, even if he didn’t feel good or right about it. Because if Sasuke cared about her, if there was something personal between them—even if he didn’t feel good or right about letting her be with someone who was so unstable, Naruto would keep the secret to the last exhalation of his life if it meant Sasuke stayed and got better.

I have no idea why you thought that doing that with me was the best thing to do. But then again I have no idea what you’re thinking anyway.

All we want is for you to be safe and happy and here.

The bunshin were really grinding all the stamina their legs had to offer. If Naruto wasn’t leaking a constant stream of toxins into his blood from the force of his exertions, he had no hope of matching them, let alone outrunning them.

Through the wind-cut streaks of tears pulled from his eyes and the heaves of his lungs for breath that he wouldn’t yet grant, Naruto thought the only thing that really mattered. Not the worry that he had done something he wasn’t supposed to do, not the regret that he had made the wrong choice under such confronting circumstances, and not the shame that some of it had felt, for better or worse, undeniably good. What he needed to know was what he was going to do when it happened again.

Naruto stopped running. He couldn’t tell where on his body it hurt the most anymore. He keeled and curled over on the grass beside the track and dispelled the bunshin, and immediately the muscle fatigue, the overthinking, and the weight of exhaustion hit at once.

Perfect.

He rested for a few minutes and then dragged aching bones home to soothe under a hot shower. The warm water and washed tension pulled his eyelids shut, making it so that his head couldn’t hold together a long enough string of thought to stop him from yielding to sleep the second he was horizontal on his bed.

Rain pitter-patters, ticking clocks and light drum beats. That was what Naruto would remember of his dreams before the colors faded and the voices stirred, blurred, and disappeared, and he woke to curtains bordered by light. He had slept until morning.

The tapping continued. Naruto turned and kicked at the curtains, focusing enough through sleep-heavy eyes to make out the dark mask and familiar crouch of his teacher.

“Kakashi-sensei?” Naruto turned away from the brightness as Kakashi pulled the screen back and sat on his windowsill. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to go on a mission!” Kakashi said merrily. “Tsunade-sama sent me. She thinks you’re avoiding her because of the damage you did to the city’s water supply.”

“I thought she said it was electricity.”

“Oh, so you do remember what you’re in trouble for.”

Naruto pressed his pillow to his face. Maybe he was outwitted by the fuzz in his brain, maybe he would have fallen for it anyway. “Alright. I get it. I’ll go see Baachan later.”

“Weeds thrive after rain. I don’t know if you know that. And the Hokage Tower has a lot of gardens.” Kakashi was gratingly happy to explain. “Unless you still want to be pulling them at this time tomorrow, I suggest you get up and get started.”

Naruto sighed, the starfished outline of his body visible through the sheets. Kakashi watched the pillow jiggle on Naruto’s face when he mumbled his acquiescence.

“Alright. I’ll get up.”

“Naruto,” Sai’s voice pulled him from sleep this time. “Kakashi-senpai is here. He said he has a duty to make sure you go do your mission.”

Naruto rolled himself out of bed this time. A crease-resistant shirt and a brush through his hair made him presentable enough to be seen in public. He splashed his face with cold water to clear out the last of the fog in his head and tried not to look so haggardly bored at the thought of work before he had even started.

“Do you remember what I said to you this morning?”

“Yeah. Uh…”

“You’ll be cleaning up the gardens around the Hokage Tower,” Kakashi said, and then glanced at Sai. “And you might want to bring a friend otherwise you’ll be there all day.”

Naruto glanced at Sai too, who would have said yes had he asked.

“It’s okay. I should take responsibility for my mistakes. Can you stay here and make lunch and dinner instead?”

Sai had no issues with that. Naruto watched him carefully and tried to silently will this kid to read between the lines for once in his life. His last instructions before he followed Kakashi out the door were to send Sakura to find him when the food was ready.

Naruto realized too late that in the wintertime there were no weeds to pull and no leaves to clear. He tasked his frozen, gloved fingers to picking up fallen twigs, bark, and other things the wind had invited overnight, and kept surveillance on the only other gardener who worked the opposite lawns. Too far away for conversation.

Clearer in the daytime on half a night’s rest, Naruto decided.

It was a stupid thing to do.

Eyelids tried to squeeze the regret out in unguarded moments, long sighs pushed forward by the weight of a memory that was a burden to carry. Under pressure from embarrassment, Naruto wanted to find an excuse for his mistake, because that was what it was. A mistake. A lapse in judgment that he wasn’t known for anyway. A slip-up that was forgivable only once.

It hurt to think about. Weaknesses he thought resided only in his heart apparently lived in every cell of his body. A culmination of nostalgic feelings and a case of very bad timing.

You were inside me.

Sigh fogging the air in front of him.

Complicated.

Sakura never showed up. Naruto walked home with his back to the afternoon sun to find Sai lying flat on his stomach on the carpet in the lounge room reading a book and nothing on the stove. He stood in the light of the window, darkening the pages of Sai’s book with his shadow, and Sai turned to stare up at him in sickly, doe-eyed innocence.

“How come you haven’t started lunch yet?”

“I did but I burnt the noodles. Sakura went out to buy more.”

Naruto’s brows crinkled in distrust of his ears. “You burnt the noodles?”

Sai hummed confirmation in the wrong tone, and when asked exactly how he managed to burn noodles, he just shrugged, which did nothing to fill Naruto’s stomach.

“Well okay, so you burnt the noodles. What about the rest of lunch?”

“That was lunch.”

“Are you kidding me?” Naruto caught himself. “Nevermind. I’ll just see what leftovers we have until Sakura-chan gets back.”

Naruto walked into the kitchen. There was just enough rice still warming in the cooker to put into a bowl and stir through a couple of drops of sesame oil. He put the first spoonful in his mouth to the sound of clambered footsteps up the stairs. Sakura opened the door, panting.

“Naruto! There you are! I was looking for you. I thought you were supposed to be at the Hokage Tower.”

“I got hungry.”

“Yeah, sorry about that!” Sakura flicked off her shoes with practiced ease and scuttled across the kitchen with a bag of groceries. “I ran into Ino at the fish market. That girl does not stop talking. Hey, don’t eat too much. I’ll be done in a moment.”

Much to Naruto’s relief, Sakura stirred together a quick-and-dirty soup to go with the noodles and grilled fish. But the smell of cooking pulled Sasuke out of his room too, and the only time Naruto made eye contact with him, he just looked so goddamn satisfied—

It didn’t matter. It was only the next day. The hot and awkward feeling that sent his stomach into a somersault was expected. Appropriate. And only transitory. One day they were going to look back as old men and laugh about it anyway—remember what we used to do? yeah, that was a crazy time—because Sasuke was getting better and it couldn’t go on forever, had to stop somewhere.

Just need to give it a little more time.

This doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends.

Four Months

Naruto was determined to be stronger when Sasuke came to him again, house empty and alone against the black eyes that filled his vision. His fist tightened under his pillow, the line of his mouth flattening and thinning and if Sasuke didn’t back off, wouldn’t stop pushing him down, pinning him down and squashing his cheek into the bed—

“I said fuck off!”

Sasuke’s hair was in his grip, pulled it as hard as he could and expected the blow of Sasuke’s fist to his chest when it was the only way to make him let go, black strands affixed to his sweaty palms and Sasuke was still expectant, still hovering all over him.

“What’s wrong with you today?”

“With me?” Naruto dared not try to kick him this time but he sat up and Sasuke moved back. “You are so fucked up.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Naruto couldn’t tell how distant Sasuke meant by his deliberately ambiguous leave, the room or the apartment or completely out of Naruto’s life—don’t you even tease me—and the expression on Sasuke’s face was oh so divine like it were the most natural thing in the world, to alleviate boredom with sex—

“I don’t care where you go!” said Naruto.

I don’t mean that.

“You don’t mean that,” said Sasuke.

Naruto breathed and left his gaze on the ground. Five years apart and Sasuke still read him so easily, could see it in his face that he didn’t mean it and never would, never had, that Sasuke could do almost anything, including sex, and Naruto would still be content with the knowledge that Sasuke was there when he woke up in the morning.

“You’re too tense. What’s your problem? It doesn’t mean anything.”

To you, maybe.

“You know what?” Naruto snapped back. “I still believe in you but this… shell that just looks like you isn’t what I fought for.”

Naruto wouldn’t look at him anymore. He didn’t know how Sasuke was reacting when he wasn’t saying anything. Not even his hands were moving and Naruto couldn’t hear him laughing or growling or living. Sasuke was just standing at his bedside and all Naruto could do when he couldn’t fix the problems was brace himself for the conceited, hurtful reply—

“I don’t need you to tell me what kind of horrible person I am.”

in a voice low and pure and incredibly far away.

“You think I planned life to be this way?”

Sasuke—!

“You say it like you think I don’t already know.”

Naruto looked up and Sasuke grabbed his shirt, threw him into the wall and held him there with both hands. Sasuke wasn’t scowling. He was real again and twelve again and Naruto knew that face, that look—of being hesitant and affected and trapped by the silence that the words inside wouldn’t break. Naruto saw—he saw Sasuke—the old one he thought had long ago died before he could save him. And then there it was:

“I hate myself for what I’ve done.”

But you don’t have to do this—

I can fix you, I know I can! Just give me a chance to—

“Is that what you want to hear?”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed with an unholy smile the old Sasuke never had, watching in Naruto’s face for the sweet moment when he realized he had peaked his hope too soon, the nightmare that came with wanting to believe in something so much that the simple sigh to complement the cracking inside was far more destructive than any physical pain Sasuke could inflict.

—you’re breaking, Naruto, you’re breaking and it’s all my fault—

Four Months, Three Days

The longer Naruto waited, the harder the words were to say, the more he wondered whether he even had to say something at all, the easier it became to convince himself that if he just waited a little bit longer, things would start to sort themselves out on their own.

Even if the weight in my chest won’t seem to go away.

I need to get out, get some fresh air.

The smell of soy sauce and beef broth wafted out from under the Ichiraku shop curtains, luring anyone with a weak will and an empty stomach into the promise of a good meal. Naruto walked with a smile and single-minded purpose until he was seated and grinning at the gentle face of the shop’s owner.

“Naruto! To what do I owe this pleasure? I was starting to wonder where you went.”

“My diet these days has been severely lacking in ramen.”

Teuchi already knew this by the amount of time Naruto’s stare spent nailed to the menu board. “Hold on and I’ll be with you in a moment. The usual?”

“With extra pork—”

“And both egg halves. I know. Hang on.”

Naruto felt a burst of good anticipation in his chest. Teuchi seemed to be busy with the orders of the other customers: two merchants whose attire made them stand out as visitors to Konoha. Their discussion was too quiet for Naruto to overhear but from their walled and stoic expressions, he guessed it was either business or death.

After Teuchi set bowls in front of the merchants and started on his order, Naruto tracked the chef’s movements with fine-honed focus until his attention was hooked into conversation.

“Did you get sent on a long mission? I haven’t seen you for a while.”

Naruto supposed it was a kind of a mission. Missions were expected to have a successful outcome. Team 7 was involved. Even if he didn’t go into details, even if he said the mission was based in Konoha—even if he said he was taking care of an orphan, which wasn’t a lie, or guarding a criminal, which would imply enough non-disclosure to kill the conversation and Teuchi would understand—

Avoiding things hasn’t been going so great for me but—

would it be so bad if I just didn’t talk about you for a day?

Naruto smiled looking down, embarrassed, like a child. This much he could pretend, passing it off as generally being busy, and the lightness of relief when Teuchi didn’t press him further made him feel accomplished.

“Well, absence does make the food taste better… or something like that,” Teuchi offered amicably. “I heard there are fireworks tonight. Are you going to go watch them?”

“There are fireworks tonight?”

“Yeah, some little thing going on over near the Yamanaka Florist, I heard, a scholar’s circle celebrating something or other. You live on the western side don’t you?”

For all his prowess on the field, there was a reason the tactician’s work was left up to people like Shikamaru. Naruto stared a little confused, because he didn’t live there anymore, and almost pulled the thread that would have unravelled a tale of things he didn’t want to discuss, in the middle of the day, with people who couldn’t help him anyway. Instead he caught himself just in time with only a heartbeat’s pause of hesitation, confirming the assumption with a nod.

“You should be able to see them quite clearly then.”

Naruto’s gaze wandered. “I’ll watch out for them.”

That makes sense. That must be what those merchants are doing here then.

When the chef placed the bowl in front of him, Naruto carefully extracted the yoke out of one of the egg halves and ate it. Then he used the empty dome of the leftover eggwhite as a makeshift spoon and took his first, delicious mouthful, better than anything his imagination could taste.

The food was exactly what he need. There was no possibility of any other conclusion. It fed memories. It gave him strength.

Four Months, Six Days

If their walls were thin between rooms, they were just as thin between apartments. Sakura put up with the buzz of the television because if Naruto weren’t in front of it, he would be in front of her, pestering her and preventing her from doing any work. The noise was distracting sometimes but at least she made progress, in the daylight when he mind was most active.

But after dark, late at night, when Sakura was tired, when the heavy footfall of the adults in the apartment above ceased and the galloping of their children across the ceiling silenced, the volume from the television started to border on being too loud for neighbourly tolerance.

The light from the television screen revealed her entrance into the living room. Naruto glanced up at her, lying outstretched on the couch, and turned the volume down before she even had to say anything.

“I’m surprised you’re not asleep,” Sakura commented, moving further into the room to sit on one of the armrests. Naruto looked too comfortable on his back for her to want to disturb him and tell him to move over.

“Yeah, well…” yawning, “gardening sucks so…”

“What are we watching?”

“Just some local broadcast, I think. Did you know there was a festival the other day?”

“Yeah. I heard about it from Ino.”

“Looked pretty nice on tv.”

Sakura watched him. Naruto had his arms crossed over his chest, for warmth, maybe, or maybe he was getting into position for sleep. His eyelids certainly seemed to be demanding it.

“You know, you should ask Sasuke-kun to hang out with you and Sai more. I think he’d like that.”

Naruto snorted air through his nose on first reaction, crinkling his nose afterwards, but the unconvinced and wiry smile remained. “Does he even know who Sai is?”

“That’s what I mean. I think they need someone in the middle until they get to know each other.”

“You’re in the middle too.”

But not in the way that you are, she wanted to tell him. Naruto’s blue irises were barely visible under his dark and heavy lids. Sakura knew nothing she said to him now was even going to be remembered the next day, let alone taken in and given serious consideration.

Sometimes I think you’ve actually matured because I don’t really see you two fight that much anymore, but then I remember I’m wrong.

You still fight, just not like children.

Four Months, One Week

If Naruto thought the scrawlings born from Sai’s paintbrush in the blitz of battle were impressive, he had never seen what Sai could do with a blank page and a calligraphy pen when at peace. Sai pulled a sketchbook down from the shelf above his desk and put it in Naruto’s hands. For such humble casings, the works inside were far too—too—

“Wow. These are really… detailed,” Naruto breathed to the black lines depicting five children screaming.

Sai smiled. “Thanks. I don’t show this sketchbook to people often.”

Art, Sai said, had been his way of dealing with the emotions that he had been ordered to eliminate, because it was never truly possible to destroy something instinctual, even in children. Naruto listened. He found it odd that while Sai spoke, his expression was one of joy.

“They took away our reasons for happiness first. Then they blamed us for our sadness. That was how they got us to hide it. We believed it was our fault.”

Ah, Naruto realised. That was why he felt uncomfortable when he looked at Sai’s art. Sai had drawn his emotions. When Naruto looked at the drawings, he was looking at Sai’s soul.

“When did you draw these?”

“Years ago now. Maybe when I was twelve or thirteen? I should have dated the pictures but I didn’t expect to hold onto them.”

A few more pages in and Naruto could barely stand it. He looked over at the art supplies tidied neatly in jars. All of his paints and pens were black. A magnifying glass stuck out as the only anomaly. “What do you draw now?”

Sai smiled at a secret joke and reached under his bed for another sketchbook. Naruto opened the cover to pictures that were no less radiant and consuming, though easier to look at. The style was different, naturally: like jutsu, this too was a skill that refined with time.

“Isn’t it terrifying,” Sai said brightly, “to think that I’ve actually gotten worse over time? That the more I practice, the more practiced the drawings look.”

“If you want to see bad, let me at it,” said Naruto.

“I’ll probably never draw anything like what was in the first sketchbook again. Which is good in a way because it means I’m happy now.”

“You’re happy now?”

“Yeah.” Sai laughed. “But happiness won’t make great art.” Naruto tried to refute but Sai had already decided Naruto was wrong. “Have you ever awakened the fox because you were happy? Anger and sadness is what makes great things happen.”

“That’s shit.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make great art ever again. It just means it’ll be great in a way that it couldn’t have been when I was sad,” said Sai, and then he looked struck by a thought. Sai ducked and pawed through another stack of sketchbooks under his bed. His black hair shimmered under the light and he moved his fingers carefully through the covers. His skin seemed suddenly, strikingly pale. “I thought it was here but can’t find it.”

“You need to learn how to organise your shit better,” said Naruto.

It was as if Sai didn’t hear him. Sai’s dark, round eyes leapt alight with excitement. He pounced at his desk and rifled through the papers.

“You know,” said Naruto, “you’re actually kind of not bad looking when you smile for real.”

“This is not a real smile,” said Sai. “But I’m glad to hear you think it is. I’ve been practicing my whole life.”

Naruto grimaced. “You ruined it by speaking,” he said. “Did they pick you to be in our team because you looked the most like Sasuke?”

Sai gave the question consideration. “I don’t believe so. I think if that had been their goal, they would have ordered I cut my hair in Sasuke’s style.”

An image flashed in Naruto’s head that caused a sharp intake of stifled breath.

Sai found what he was looking for and Naruto watched as Sai spoke, alight, in gushes of excitement, feigned or real, Naruto couldn’t tell tell and didn’t care. Sai really did look a lot like Sasuke. He looked a lot like every other typical Japanese teenager that Naruto had ever see on the street. But those superficial similarities put no feelings inside of Naruto. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be about appearance. No matter how hard Naruto tried, nothing jumped. His heart was stagnant. It was just Sasuke.

That’s not good.

Four Months, One Week, Two Days

The tight, uneasy feeling in his stomach made his muscles weak and hard to move. Naruto had to fight between what he wanted and what he promised and what he feared.

It’s like a mask. Just because I ignore it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

I want—

When Naruto left the apartment, the knowledge stopped. Outside held romance, nostalgia, there were things he knew and recognized. But his bones disconnected and fell apart when he returned and no one said anything, when the house was quiet, when he couldn’t hear the secrets.

Until one day when he did hear them. When he heard Sakura say the thing he feared.

“No, I think I might stay home and try to nap. I didn’t get a very good night’s sleep last night.”

He had asked her to come out with him and she had declined again, but this time she seemed genuinely tired. Blankets piled up to her shoulders in the dark room meant he couldn’t see her face clearly. She could have been crying and Naruto would never have known.

“Anything the matter?”

If she were guarding a secret as close to her heart as the one Naruto was, he doubted if even he would be able to tell truth from fallacy. Maybe it was worse for her since she still loved Sasuke and everyone knew about it. Maybe she even knew Sasuke was using her and was too ashamed to tell anyone that she actually didn’t care as long as he was back.

But if he could drag just a little more conversation out of her—just enough to hear if there were quivers in her voice—

“No. I think it’s just the changing of the seasons. I always have trouble sleeping at this time of year.”

Naruto hadn’t picked up on anything suspicious or alarming but—

Don’t read too much into it. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. The seasons really are changing after all.

But what if you are lying to me? What if something is the matter and I’ve already missed my last chance to fix it?

Four Months, One Week, Four Days

Another four days had gone by when neither he nor Sasuke had spoken to each other, although Sasuke kept looking at him, looking at Sakura, and now Sakura was being weird and saying weird things and growing faint.

Naruto stared at the flickering images on the television until his gaze drifted and he washed back into his thoughts. What if, after a day spent blindly looking the other way, he came home and Sakura wasn’t the same? Naruto didn’t ever want to carry that burden, to know that he had known what was going on, what Sasuke wanted, and that he had still done nothing to protect her. That he had avoided Sasuke and Sasuke had given up and gone for an easier target.

Or maybe Sasuke had been fooling her all this time with lies the colour of the sun and Sakura had only just realised the pretence, and now that she was a used toy and she knew it, her feelings played with and tossed out—

Am I really seeing reality or am I just kidding myself?

Come on, let’s not do this again.

Sighing, rubbing his fingers along his face.

Two weeks had passed since the thing on his bedroom floor. The flashes of memory weren’t as cunning and rampant as the first few days afterwards and nor were they as bright. Memories rewritten by shock meant that, although Naruto was sure it had hurt, he only knew because he remembered thinking it. The actual memory of pain—was more translucent than the memory of its opposite.

Curiosity. He had asked Sai before he had properly considered the backlash if Sai confronted him about its origins.

“Have you ever wondered what it’d be like to do it with another guy?”

Sai honestly thought about it, which calmed Naruto in ways he hadn’t expected. “Can’t say I have. Not until now.”

Sai didn’t return the question and Naruto had let the conversation end on its own.

What was going on? If his mind could be bought and won over so cheaply, didn’t that mean—

And Sasuke and his calculating intelligence should have had more than enough time to work out if it was worth the trouble. But whether that meant it would be okay for Naruto to let him get back into his space if another opportunity were to arise—even if it’s not right, even if there’s something wrong—if it could just be okay, for the moment, because Sasuke was special and Naruto kind of—

It’s there. I just have to think it once and then it’s real.

If—

If he—

Naruto turned off the television and slid down the back of the couch, slumped at an awkward angle with his feet hanging off the side and his nose experiencing the scents of all the people who had ever been there before him and in that moment, he knew. Instantly, easily.

Even though he knew he shouldn’t.

Don’t.

Really shouldn’t.

The first thing Sakura’s sights fell on when she opened the door was the construction site of dishes in the sink, and then, when she turned, Naruto in the lounge room, lying lopsided on the couch with a faraway look on his face.

“Naruto,” she called in a particular voice. “Those dishes were there this morning when I told you to do them.”

“Yeah. They’re soaking.”

An excuse Sakura was learning not to trust.

“I touched the water,” she continued. “It’s not warm anymore.”

“Well what did you make it cold for then?”

Oh, so Naruto was going to be a pain again today. Sakura dropped her bag into one of the dining room chairs and came closer so that he could more clearly see her desire not to have to continuously pick up the pieces and teach him how to be responsible.

“Can I just ask how you got by when you lived alone?”

“My mom did everything for me.”

Sakura didn’t know what kind of joke Naruto was playing at but she wasn’t about to remind him that he didn’t have a mom.

“What?” Naruto countered the suspicion in Sakura’s face with carefully assembled innocence. “Didn’t your mom do everything for you?”

Let him win, she convinced herself. He’s not really arguing with you. He’s just in a mood for god knows whatever reason.

Four Months, One Week, Six Days

When Sasuke crawled onto the couch one day and put his head on Naruto’s legs, stretching out, Naruto couldn’t ignore him any longer. Blocked in a space with no feasible retreat, he held the words in his lungs and watched Sasuke roll away from the television so that the light flickers weren’t disturbing his calm under closed eyelids, pretending that:

“I’m tired. Put me to sleep.”

When Sasuke wanted attention, he knew how to get it. On edge and careful, Naruto dampened the tension with humor.

“I will fart up your nostrils if you don’t get off.”

“Take care of me.”

This was not going to go to a good place but the Sasuke who fell asleep in his lap while Naruto combed his hair with his fingers was the Sasuke he missed. Twelve years old again and partially assembled, bolted together with insecurity and multiple coats of pride. So soft.

Really, really shouldn’t but—

Just this once. It’s not often that you’re this peaceful.

Outside the moment, calm and reflective, Naruto knew with the precision of a fact exactly why it was a really bad idea to give in to Sasuke, even for things like this. Especially for things like this. Teetered on a very vague sense of duty, Naruto also knew exactly why he wasn’t saying no and exactly why he didn’t really want to anyway.

He looked down. Sasuke was heavy at rest.

Thoughts like this only led to trouble.

Four Months, Two Weeks, One Day

Naruto wasn’t sure how it happened or how he knew, but he stopped scrubbing the shower tiles long enough to realise someone was standing behind him. He whipped his head around and glared. Sasuke was tall above him, dressed in all black, and calm except for his unbrushed hair. He was holding a white mug with red embossed designs.

“Get out,” Naruto snapped.

“What are you doing?” Sasuke asked. “Are you busy?”

A feeling struck Naruto in the chest and cleansed his throat of air. Sasuke crouched to eye level. The cup touched the floor with a delicate clink.

“Naruto,” said Sasuke, softly, “do you want to do it again?”

He was kind enough to ask.

Sasuke continued. “I got carried away last time.”

‘Carried away’? Is that what you’re going to call it?

“Have you been thinking about it as much as I have?”

Would navigate any combination of words to get what he wanted.

“I can make it better this time.”

Naruto’s heart beat so loudly, it hurt his ears. What was he supposed to say? What had he decided? Naruto knew as objectively as a judge submitting a verdict, as a god casting fortunes and tragedies. Sasuke reached out, and Naruto felt the warm touch of Sasuke’s hand on his back.

Naruto said, “I don’t think we should.”

“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t,” said Sasuke. “But do you want to do it anyway?”

Fingers moved, finding the hem of Naruto's shirt, then slowly, gently, like Sasuke was nervous about his request and then eventually, when it wasn’t flight that Naruto felt but flashing heat as Sasuke’s hand skimmed along his skin—

“Gimme a fucking moment to think about it, would you?” Naruto grabbed one of Sasuke’s hands to stall it. The air smelled richly like his best friend. “How much better?”

“Unforgettable.”

Sasuke hadn’t needed to promise that much to a ship that was already sinking, and Naruto wasn’t sure what the word implied. But the answer hadn’t mattered. Sasuke could have said just about anything that had a remotely positive connotation and Naruto still wouldn’t have resisted the fingers that were pushing under the waistband of his sweats, Sasuke’s hand inside, lower, dragging over the material of his underwear—

Swift, unexpected heat burst into his face, flushing brighter than anything he could put a word on.

Ah, just—

Sasuke was touching him, which was already more than anything he had done the last time. Naruto was aware that his determination had been cracked from the start but now he knew it infallibly.

Just—just once more—much belated compromises—and then I’ll know, then we’ll stop.

“Take off your pants,” said Sasuke.

Naruto hesitated. Behind him, Sasuke pushed his own down, leaving the material bunched under his knees and softer on the tiles. With a sigh for his clenched eyes, Naruto put his thumbs under the elastic and, clumsily and a world away, he kicked his feet out of the clothing so that Sasuke could coax his legs further apart and kneel between them.

It was definitely going to happen again. Anticipation jumped in his stomach. Probably less than half a minute until—

Sasuke reached for the cup and coated his fingers with the oil. Awkward still, unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Naruto didn’t open his eyes again until Sasuke took his hand away and the focus switched from preparation to alignment.

This was it. His head swam with intense curiosity. A different kind of pressure sat intimately between his legs as Sasuke’s hands searched for grooves in his hips, pulling back to a push forward that had Sasuke’s low groan empty the silence and Naruto’s breath bathe across the tiles and then—just like that—

Ah, we’re doing it again.

Sasuke was slow, and careful, and the friction slide let Naruto know that he was getting deeper each time. Little flinches of tight pain started to fall away in favor of a much louder, higher feeling.

“Is this better?” said Sasuke. “How does it feel?”

Sensation blew through Naruto’s chest to the back of his scalp. He braced a hand to the shower wall, bent over on the floor, balancing the impacts that made muscle and fat and sinew tremble. Then the gentleness gave way to more concentrated and impatient snaps of Sasuke’s hips until there didn’t seem to be a reason not let go and lose himself in the act.

It was better this time. The thrill of it fizzed alight under Naruto’s skin and shredded his ability to think. Not nearly as much pain, more than double the gratification. ‘Unforgettable’ like Sasuke had promised and so much harder to say no to.

He was going to come. The feeling had passed a threshold and now he wanted it more than any warning in his head could dissuade. Where Sasuke’s release was sweet through his teeth, Naruto made sure to mute the sound in his throat. And then—

Regret.

Sakura saw a lot of things Naruto and Sasuke probably didn’t realise she saw, too consumed by their rivalry to think of anyone but themselves. She had one on each side of her: Naruto was picking at his food and being loud about eating it and doing everything he could to avoid looking at Sasuke; Sasuke was eating his food slowly and methodically, side dishes first and then the fish and then the rice mixed in with the soup, always in that order and always watching Naruto.

Sakura said, “Thanks for cleaning the bathroom, Naruto.”

“Mm.”

It had been the opposite once upon a time and Sakura wasn’t sure when it had switched or why it had switched. She wondered if she should warn Naruto or say something, or ask him if he noticed or cared.

Sasuke always glared at her but he stared at Naruto.

Four Months, Two Weeks, Four Days

By chance, Naruto ran into Ino at a roadside stall at the central markets when he had been ravenous for sustenance. She was eating a snack of steamed sweet potatoes. Naruto ordered fishcakes for himself and chomped through them heartily, but insatiately. With the leftover skewer through which his fishcakes had been pierced, he casually drove the pointy end into one of Ino's sweet potatoes and filched it from her plate, into his mouth.

“Can I have it?” Naruto had the gall to ask after he had already committed the robbery. Ino looked provoked and ready to hiss but she only watched him as he slowly put it to his mouth and made it disappear.

Ino leaned against the stall bench and fluttered her eyelashes, exaggerated, suddenly quiet and unexpectedly cute like the smile on her lips.

“Now that I’ve given you something, you have to give me something.”

Ino thought she had him trapped. Naruto saw an opening. She beckoned her hands like she was asking for something and she was: the only thing she could possibly want from him, the only bargaining tool he had to offer.

“Gossip.”

I knew it.

Naruto threw bait. “Sasuke comes out of his room nowadays.”

“I know that!” Ino huffed and dropped the playfulness. “Sakura does tell me some stuff. She said he likes watching those silly afternoon dramas on tv. Is that true?”

“I have no idea.”

“What do you mean you have no idea? Don’t you live with him?”

“Yeah but I don’t watch tv with him.”

“Well can you start? I need something to break the ice with him once he’s allowed outside. Oh hey, listen. I have to get back to the shop now. Come with me if you’re free?”

Naruto had no plans except for the one that was building now, staring at Ino’s candlelit eyes that would trade almost anything to sate her desire for intelligence on Sasuke. He followed. It was interesting then to notice that while people stared at him because of the past, they stared at Ino because of the present.

“What’s Sasuke-kun’s favourite flower?”

“I don’t even know what my favorite flower is.”

“Hmm. I bet he would like something big like a sunflower.”

Either Ino was projecting, or she knew a Sasuke different from the one that he knew.

“Give him a cactus. You know, really prickly, only blooms in the dark.”

“Oh my god, that’s the best idea!” Ino clapped her hands and then, when her excitement couldn’t be contained in the bubbles of her giggles, she grabbed Naruto’s arm and shook it through him. “That’s perfect. Oh my god, I can’t believe how perfect that is.”

Naruto readjusted his hoodie after she was done apprehending him and told her to do whatever she wanted.

“What’s Sasuke-kun’s favourite color?”

“I have no idea.”

“What’s Sasuke-kun’s favourite snack?”

“I have no idea.”

“What’s Sasuke-kun’s favourite animal?”

“I have no idea.”

“Come on, Naruto, give me something to work with, would you?”

“Alright,” Naruto tucked his successful attempt at scheming behind make-believe ignorance. If he couldn’t get anything out of Sakura, he would get it out of her closest girl friend, though he had to be careful, because if Ino didn’t know anything either and Sakura realised Naruto were the one she had found out from—“Tell me what Sakura-chan has already told you and I’ll fill in the gaps.”

“I heard,” Ino said, twirling the words through carefully constructed craftiness, “that his hair is getting really long these days and he parts it on the right side.”

Sakura had told her that? Naruto was struggling to believe how such a useless observation could make the topic of conversation when Ino, mistaking his frown for reflection, continued.

“And that he likes his riceballs covered in sesame seeds. And that he likes barley tea more than ginseng tea.”

“Who likes ginseng tea anyway, like, at all?”

“Does he really rearrange the order of his scrolls every day?”

Naruto snorted. “Probably. There’s not much else to do.”

“And I also heard that he really likes playing card games. And that he likes grilled fish more than sashimi.”

“Grilled is the only way we ever have it anyway. None of us know how to properly slice it raw.”

“And that he once told Sakura she was as pretty as the flowers she was named after.”

Such a simple statement had Naruto quickly clearing out the nausea. He paused, not wanting to give away too much, and as soon as practiced apathy felt natural on his face, he turned his head a little to glance at her. Ino smiled.

“So he did, did he?”

Naruto said, “I’m just saying it’s not impossible.”

Ino clasped her hands dramatically, dancing whimsical circles along the path. “To think that my rival in love was the one to get the dream boy after all. Ah, I suppose I’ll have to be the bigger woman and go congratulate her.”

“I guess.”

“What a story they’ll have. Friends since childhood, teammates since the academy, how she saved him during his darkest days…”

“I guess.”

“Sakura and her soft pink, Sasuke-kun and his midnight blue… Well they do say opposites attract, right?”

“I guess.”

“What a cute couple they’d make! Don’t you think?”

“I guess.”

“Hey, speaking of, is it true that Sasuke-kun’s clothes are all black? Even his underwear?”

“I guess.”

“Do you think you could steal me a pair?”

Naruto stuttered, abruptly flustered, which finally made Ino crack and break into laughter.

“Did I go too far? Sorry, I’m just kidding. I made everything up. Sakura won’t tell me anything.”

Naruto was not about to present a bouquet of flowers to Sasuke, even if he was just the messenger on behalf of Ino, but Ino had taken such great care in choosing, cutting and wrapping the flowers that it would have been a waste to just discard them in the river or a line of vegetation bordering the road, in plain view of pedestrians.

Sakura turned at the sound when he opened the door, looking down at the flowers curiously.

“For you,” Naruto bowed gracefully and held them out to her.

Sakura asked him what they were for, but she didn’t accept the “just because” that Naruto delivered.

“Did you do something wrong?”

“No,” he said calmly, standing up straight and still holding the flowers out in front of him. “Not this time,” with a wink.

“You can tell me if you did something wrong.”

“Really,” Naruto assured with an open smile. “You pick up a lot of my slack. Sorry about that, and thank you.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” Sakura displayed her hands then and the sticky pieces of rice attached. “I’m in the middle of making lunch. Can you put them somewhere for me? I think there should be an old glass pitcher in the cupboard next to the sink.”

Naruto filled the pitcher and swirled bleach through the water to help the flowers last, so Sakura said. She was making sushi rolls with her bare hands, which was supposed to enhance the flavour. Naruto had no palate; they were going to taste the same no matter how she prepared them. But he watched her anyway.

“Go sit down. I can’t concentrate with you looming over me.”

“Okay.” But Naruto didn’t move.

After spreading out the rice over the seaweed sheets, she prepared the fillings. Naruto compared the width of the carrots and cucumber slices with the slices for other rolls, the selection of particular strips of radish, the amount of egg she chose to add, how well she chopped the spinach, right down to the small and insignificant differences between the sprinklings of ground beef and the gentler way she seemed to assemble the whole meal. One set was different. One set was fatter, filled to the brim with more consideration.

“Here.”

Naruto stared at the plate, a little affronted. “Is this Sasuke’s?”

“No? That’s yours.”

Naruto accepted the plate, still staring. “How come mine are… bigger?”

Which made Sakura scoff. “I know your stomach. I don’t want you coming back in an hour’s time whinging that you’re hungry again. Although you probably will anyway.” She finished with another plate and handed it to him. “Can you take this one, too? It’s Sai’s.”

Naruto turned with the plates. Today was a day that he could put up with Sasuke, even if it made his head flood with thoughts, because as long as Sai was there, he could trick him into talking excessively with just the right question or comment and lay the perfect foundations for a conversation he didn’t have to be in complete attendance for.

“Been working on any new art lately?”

Sai dived right in.

Four Months, Two Weeks, Five Days

The flowers were gone in the morning. Naruto asked Sakura what happened to them.

“The smell kept making me sneeze.”

Naruto stared, but Sakura fidgeted uncomfortably and he swallowed the words sitting on his tongue. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were so sensitive to pollen. Where are they then?”

“I put them outside.”

“Where outside?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to go get them and put them in my room. If that’s okay with you.”

Naruto found the flowers leaning against a utility pole, the paper wrapping only a little crumpled.

Four Months, Three Weeks, Two Days

Somehow, a lifetime defined by one too many rough experiences had brought Naruto to his current circumstances. Had it started the first time he had given in to Sasuke on the couch? Or was it when he had been standing in front of Tsunade and agreeing to live with him? Had it started before then, parting ways to go train with Jiraiya or the moment they had been put on the same team? Careless things that Naruto either had no control over or didn’t want to take the blame for.

Naruto got up. He changed into clothes that let his arms and legs move about more freely so that when Sai got home, he could go out and train to get the heat out of his fists. Until then—

“Play five-in-a-row with me.” Sasuke was getting too used to getting everything he wanted.

“Uh. Okay.” Naruto waited for the trick to creep into his dull, black eyes but Sasuke just kept staring at the television. “But I don’t think we have any of the equipment.”

“Then draw it, usuratonkachi.”

Sasuke didn’t seem to be in a good mood but it wasn’t a catastrophically bad one either. Unsure though Naruto was, this was also one of the longest stretches of spoken tranquillity between them since Sasuke’s return. He sat on the floor and ruled up a gameboard.

“That’s not what it looks like.”

“You do it then.” Naruto pushed the pen and paper at Sasuke, who shuffled up against the back of the couch to make space where he could properly render a gameboard. Naruto made no comment about how it looked exactly like what he had drawn, or about how Sasuke still seemed to talk like a child.

“I want to go first.”

While Sasuke took his time deciding where he would draw his first circle, Naruto found his focus drawn to the sound of the television and the blinking pictures when he wasn’t watching Sasuke tap the pen against his lips. Sasuke colored a circle in and passed the paper to him.

Naruto drew a quick circle and passed the paper back. When for several turns the game unfolded like that in strange, distracting silence, he wondered if he should risk pissing the studious calm out of Sasuke’s face by attempting more conversation and gave in to the desire, easily, like hesitation given to an addiction.

“What kinds of snacks do you like?”

Sasuke didn’t look at him and Naruto waited. He waited.

And then he stared at his hands, the ground, and the television.

“I like crispy rice crust,” said Sasuke.

It was sick, and Naruto knew it, the way crumbs could feed his greedy, lifting heart. “That,” he breathed in, and held it, and let it out, “is really gross.”

Rice crust, huh? Gonna have to start cooking rice on the stove.

Sasuke dropped the paper on the floor. Naruto calculated his next move, drew a circle, and passed it back. He slouched and slid down until it was just his head propped against the base of the couch and stared at the daytime drama, interrupted only when Sasuke finished his turn and he had to make a move.

So Sasuke liked board games? Or maybe he just liked strategy games, or maybe he just liked anything that gave his brain something to do. Later he would have to ask Sakura if her parents had any spare board games that they could borrow. Even if he didn’t know the rules, if Sasuke liked it and it made him better, brought him back to life, distracted him from—

“I’ve already had at least five chances to win this game.”

“Oh really?” Naruto recoiled with the stricken need to rationalise his incompetency. “Well I didn’t really play this game much as a kid.”

“It’s okay,” Sasuke said, but the look on his face when Naruto turned towards him told him that it wasn’t. “So what do I get for winning?”

Naruto stared, and then he sunk, and then he pleaded for lenience. Before Sasuke could sit up and decrease anymore of the distance between them, he had to cancel it out. “I don’t think we should.”

“I know we shouldn’t,” Sasuke was quick to rebut. “But while we’re both getting something out of it, I don’t see why we should stop.”

But still Naruto leaned away from it. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Sasuke just scoffed. “Was it not good enough last time? Your standards are pretty high for someone with zero experience.”

The path that this was taking was starting to make Naruto feel uncomfortable. He knew that this too was distraction. Manipulation. Because while it had felt good, had absolutely felt so much better than the first time and while even now, over a week later, he still sometimes caught himself in reflections—still a very urgent part of his brain ate at him to accept that it probably hadn’t been as great as his sated libido would have him believe. Because if Sasuke had really wanted to make it better, why had he chosen the bathroom? Why hadn’t Sasuke touched him properly? Why had it been so—quick?

Do I really need to wonder?

Then again, you didn’t promise ‘better’. You promised ‘unforgettable’. And it was.

Naruto didn’t move and Sasuke’s sigh appeared as pain on his face, squinting his eyes and then rubbing it off with his hand. “Look, can you just—save the coy act for someone else? I really couldn’t give a shit how easy you are. Take off your pants. I’ll be back.”

Sasuke got up. He went to the kitchen and Naruto sat alone with quakes tinkling the bells in his head. Probably shouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t, not like this. But that was still Sasuke and everything he felt for him standing over him again with a cup in his hand and the most serene smile Naruto had ever seen.

“Your pants are still on,” Sasuke said with a budding giddiness. “Do you want to fight? That might be fun.”

“What?”

“Oil yourself up. Let’s see how long it takes me to rip your clothes off and pin you down.”

Naruto had options. He could beat the shit out of Sasuke for ever giving voice to such a suggestion.

But he didn’t, and he wouldn’t—because I’m an idiot who still believes in you, even now—and yielded instead. He snatched the cup out of Sasuke’s hand, took off his pants and did what he thought he was supposed to do with the oil. Sasuke dropped to his knees between his legs and shucked his pants down far enough that he could anoint himself with oil and then—

Pushing Naruto down on his back and bracing over him. Sasuke, who had made no promises this time, settled a moment, and then Naruto felt it pressing firm and wide and as soon as he was in, Sasuke went at it.

For Sasuke, it seemed to be a race to the bottom, because while he could be calculating and conservative when he wanted to be, it was when commitments were low and he was left alone, unsupervised, in the middle of the day, on the floor of the lounge room, that his greed demanded he steal as much as possible, as fast as possible. Naruto put his hands on Sasuke’s shoulders for stability, curved close, and a mouth not nearly far enough away from his face erased the thoughts in his head, replaced by short, insistent noises in Sasuke’s throat leading up to a final groan dug up from the depths of his lungs.

Sasuke shuddered and flinched in Naruto’s arms but Naruto was quick to release him when he rolled onto the floor. Sasuke had the decency at least to hitch his pants back up, and then he lay a little on his side with one hand over his chest and the other stretched out away from them, gurgling the last remnants of bliss and looking entirely too sweetened.

Sasuke had no more biting words to part with but Naruto swiped at something on his neck and he realised that shithead had gone and fucking drooled on him.

Five Months

The ANBU guards in Tsunade’s office were all wearing different masks. Naruto studied each of the animals to replace the boredom of the formality and to give his head a break. It kept happening, and where weeks had once separated the instances, it was now filing down to days. Naruto set sail his hope with the increasing frequency, praying that it meant Sakura wasn’t being exposed to any of the bad parts. Because it kept happening and he kept getting off on it, kept finding excuses not to stop.

Naruto knew it wasn’t ideal but it wouldn’t go on forever. It wasn’t going to go on forever. It was going to stop one day. One day would be the last day and then Sasuke would just… stop. He would just not come for it and Naruto would just not give in to it and then they could reassemble the leftover pieces and learn how to coexist again.

Temporary. It’s just temporary. It’s not like it’s going to go on for years. I could even fix you with this—flick of his eyes away—somehow. Just a little bit longer and then I’ll work it out and then—

“This it?”

“What? Oh. Yeah.”

Tsunade pulled more pages out from somewhere on her desk. “Compared with the reports from the beginning and what I saw last month, Uchiha seems to be improving. Would you agree?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

So she does think Sasuke’s getting better.

Then why the—

Tsunade was staring at him and there was something not quite right about it. Too… informed. Maybe he should have said more: saying too little might have seemed like he was hiding information—but saying too much might have looked like he was trying to cover something up because her eyes were just a little too narrow, hands folded under her chin just a little too tight.

“Naruto…”

He hated his name in that tone and took to staring coolly out the window.

“Anything you want to tell me?”

She knew. Naruto knew she knew. How did she know? No one was supposed to know—she had to be digging. Naruto willed himself not to overreact because Tsunade saw through glass-coated lies and he had only one chance to get it right.

“No? I don’t think so?” said Naruto.

Tsunade drew her lips into a thin line, picking up another report, and to Naruto’s ears the pages flicked unbearably loud. “I don’t trust you three to give me all the details. This is the ANBU report. Tell me what you think this sounds like. Day one hundred and sixteen. 1:38pm to 1:40pm. Uzumaki Naruto’s room. Groaning noises. Day one hundred and thirty-seven. 4:11pm to 4:12pm. Bathroom. Groaning noises. Day one hundred and forty-six. 12:10pm to 12:11pm. Lounge room. Groaning noises. Day one hundred and forty-eight. 2:29pm to 2:31pm. Lounge room. Groaning noises. I’m sure I don’t have to go on.”

There it was. The story of their fucked up friendship in ten seconds flat.

There was no limit to how small and weak and hot and raw everyone wanted to make him feel. Naruto couldn’t even do his normal routine like laugh it off because—of course there were ANBU, he’d seen them and now she knew, the ANBU knew—she was looking at him for answers now and Naruto didn’t know—standing at the centre of her office alone under the weight of the world and everyone knew.

“Still don’t want to tell me anything?” said Tsunade.

Naruto wasn’t looking and breathed in slowly, in and out just once and thought about not saying anything at all—or maybe she didn’t get it because she had to ask—calm calm calm fuck I don’t know—she had to ask so maybe she didn’t realize—oh let’s just cut the bullshit—of course she realised—she’s the goddamn Hokage.

“Sasuke gets bored,” said Naruto.

“So give him a book.”

Naruto felt the sting of her verbal slap and silently thanked her for such great fucking insight.

Tsunade’s chair creaked rocking back and her sigh released all the unspoken reprimands she couldn’t bear to say.

“I won’t even begin to imagine what you two are thinking but I’m not stupid. What, one, two minutes and it’s over? I don’t think you’re even once in a bed—and frankly it’s probably none of my business but this is a little different. Sasuke’s changed—he isn’t the same Sasuke you remember.”

Like I need anyone to tell me that—like I would ever need to hear that—I see a different Sasuke all fucking day long.

“I’m just so… annoyed,” words chosen for their exceptional delicacy, “that you didn’t report it—even if you didn’t report it, that you didn’t tell me. I think this is something I should know about—for your sake, Naruto, not his. You’re the only reason that stupid Uchiha brat isn’t locked up in jail indefinitely.”

“I don’t… I don’t mind.”

“What?”

“I don’t mind.” A little louder, clearer, equal amounts of false confidence. “It doesn’t bother me.”

He could feel Tsunade’s hard stare flush every part of his face and the window was still the most interesting thing in the room.

“And it annoys me when you lie but—god, I’m going to regret saying this—I’m still going to trust your judgment. You know Uchiha better than I do so who knows? Maybe it’ll work. The house is still standing and Uchiha’s doing something, even if it’s you. Unless his condition—or yours—deteriorates, do whatever you think is right. I won’t interfere until I have to and I’m sure you can hear the warning bells in your own head so listen to them. Can you do that?”

“I can do that.”

I can do that.

I can hide it, lie about it, keep it inside, keep it away from you, keep it away from everyone if it’s really so—so—if you don’t want to see it then I’ll never let it show.

I can do that.

Naruto’s room complemented Sasuke’s in all the other ways they made half of each other’s lives a whole. It made Sasuke stressed just standing in the doorway, eyeing those fucking half-dead flowers next to the alarm clock on his desk thirty-eight minutes behind and still ticking. He pushed clothes and books and weaponry with his feet, dividing them to his target on the other side.

Sasuke leant over him where the familiar smell was the strongest, mouth parting just enough for a smile when Naruto wouldn’t take his eyes off the cracks and chips in the wall.

You make me want to laugh, you stupid dobe—you think I’ll leave just because you won’t see me? You were always so stupid, Naruto.

“You were gone a while and then I thought Sakura and Sai were never going to leave.”

Naruto was in a perfect enough position this time, on his bed and on his side. If Sasuke could just turn him over a little more with the press of his hand to Naruto’s back—

“Sasuke, why do you do this?”

Sasuke danced in the exhilaration of his name on Naruto’s tongue, his eyes and smile growing wider and wilder. So they were going to do it like that, were they? Because Naruto’s fight was never one with Sasuke, only with himself, and the look on his face when he gave in and hated it was what Sasuke longed to see.

Always, always a stupid dobe. You were always weak and you can’t—don’t—won’t change it.

Sasuke’s knee was on the bed now, pressing a little harder but not enough to force the movement. It was always better if Naruto resisted so he had to fight.

Entertain me.

“I told you, I’m bored. Now roll over.”

“No.”

Sasuke stopped and ran his nose along the sleeve of Naruto’s shirt.

“Roll.”

“Fuck off.”

All anger and shock and amusement and thrill and Naruto was still counting the tiny impurities in the paintwork—stupid words, always a stupid dobe and stupid, useless, worthless words—sweet as rain was Sasuke’s breath preceding his voice in Naruto’s ear when:

“I have to wonder what she said to you to make you grow some balls.”

Naruto’s face jumped, lips curled back and eyes flared through the slit of his lids and Sasuke’s grin was smug, so smug. He had shot him point blank with the right words. So that Hokage-hag knows, does she?—and that wasn’t nearly the best of it—she wasn’t doing anything and Sasuke wouldn’t care even if she did because that was Naruto’s issue to deal with. Sasuke never had to stare anyone down and beat an excuse out of his pride because that was Naruto’s issue to deal with and he’d just take the pleasure when she wasn’t doing anything and wouldn’t stop him—

“Unbelievable.”

“Stop it!” Naruto threw the hand back out from under his shirt. It was coming, a fight, a heated scramble of bodies and clothes. Sasuke could feel his fingers itch with the chakra he couldn’t and didn’t need to use, nose-to-nose when he wouldn’t back away from Naruto’s quiet seething and the twists in his head. “Why do you do this? Go read a fucking book if you’re so bored!”

Go on, I dare you, give me something to do and start the fight you want me to finish—

“You’re not the only one in his house,” Sasuke teased. “Are you telling me to go to Sai next time, hmm? How about Sakura?”

Sasuke looked down at Naruto’s mouth and he knew what it looked like—Naruto thought he might—stupid dobe, you only wish I’d—and Sasuke could just hear the lightness in Naruto’s heart over his own internal laughter, the confusion—the jealousy? oh now that’s just precious—in his face providing just enough time to throw him down—

and push you down and pin you down and don’t you dare look so surprised—

You want this, Naruto, I know you do—you’re the one who always wants to chase me find me hold me fight me hate me—well if you want me that much then I’ll scar you so bad you’ll never forget me and then—

I’ll always be with you—

“How about Sakura?”

Sasuke couldn’t have meant it. He was lying. Lying like he always lied, lied by accident and lied without knowing he was lying. He had planned it that way, to throw Naruto off or to get him to move under him and nothing Sasuke said anymore was mistaken or honest.

You lied. I know you did because you’ve got nothing else to do but screw with my head. It can’t—be true—

But Naruto couldn’t argue with the report Tsunade had read. There was no Sakura. There wasn’t enough time for Sakura. It was all Naruto, Naruto, Naruto and Sasuke and no Sakura because—

It doesn’t make sense. I knew you and Sakura-chan didn’t make sense. Why would you? Why wouldn’t you?

Because he couldn’t tell himself it’s only me. All that time wasted awake and distracted and hurting and grieving and worrying and hoarding evidence—

What evidence? I don’t actually know anything!

Sleep was on the other side of the room dancing far out of reach and now Naruto had to face up to the reality that Sasuke was using only him.