The Sun, The Moon and the Reflection
Disclaimer: I did a thing. Still own nothing.
He didn't want to blame him. He didn't want to blame anyone.
It was an accident.
Plain and simple. A mission that should have been easy gone wrong.
He was a hero.
He saved the village. Minato's little boy, his baby, his son, the last piece he had left of Kushina.
"Hey Dad!" the small boy beamed up at him, golden hair and skin and smile catching the sun and making the summer day pale in comparison. "One day I'm going to be the best ninja that ever lived, better than Baa-chan and Ero Sennin; even you!"
The Hokage had laughed and run his hand through the boy's hair, relishing the feel of warm strands between his fingers.
"There's more to being Hokage than being the best."
"I know that. One day I am going to protect the village, and everyone in it. Believe it!"
He didn't want to blame Konohamaru when the boy had wandered through the gates, dazed, his eyes leaking freely and his clothes soaked in blood.
Konohamaru, who called his son 'Nii-chan', who idolized him, who hung on his every word.
He didn't want to, but he did.
He felt his throat close up, watched as people gathered, people gasped, watched as the young Uchiha pushed his way through until he was holding the boy by his neck and shaking him, screaming.
It was an accident.
Minato had sent Naruto out to patrol, giving in to the boy's constant pestering, his begging for a mission that would help him improve as a ninja.
It was a scouting trip. Simple, easy, a check of the borders.
A task to simply get the brat out of his hair for an afternoon.
"I'll go with you," Sasuke had said, his hand falling to Naruto's hip in natural movement, worming his arm around Minato's son as if he was a part of the boy that had been temporarily misplaced.
"I want to come!" squealed Konohamaru, falling from a roof tile, and Naruto gave his boyfriend a helpless look.
"I'll be back before you know it," he said, giving the Uchiha a peck on the cheek and his father a cheeky grin.
"Ittekimasu!"
It was supposed to be a border check, but there wasn't supposed to be anyone there; especially not ten Jonin ninjas from the Hidden Sound Village.
Naruto had tried to fight them, but he wasn't a match, especially with an academy student to protect.
He had tried to run, but the others were faster.
"He pushed me into the water," Konohamaru had said, eyes glassy and unseeing.
"Over the cliff. When I surfaced he was holding a handfull of explosive tags, and then there was fire and the rock crumbled. I tried to bring him home. I tried."
No one had gotten out of the explosion alive, save the boy.
Sasuke had let the boy drop, face so pale it was white, and ran in the direction of the river. The fact that he returned empty handed told Minato there wasn't much left of his child to bring home.
Standing there, in the sunshine, while his son's name was carved into the stone of remembrance, was excruciating. The idea that his son, his baby, his boy, would never again smile, or argue, or eat ramen...Minato couldn't stand it. He wanted to hurt someone. He wanted to avenge his baby, wanted to rip out the hearts of everyone who had ever spoken to his boy's killer, wanted to make the world scream for taking away his precious sunshine.
Instead he stood, motionless, in the light that paled when compared Naruto's smile.
The Uchiha stood across from him, pale and trembling. There were no tears; no signs of life except clenched fists and shivering skin.
This is what utter devastation looks like, thought Minato as he watched the boy.
This is what death looks like.
Naruto had dragged the boy home at the age of seven. The child was timid, uncomfortable and awkward in the face of Naruto's casual affection. Minato had smiled fondly at his golden son as the boy chattered about his day and his new friend and his general love of life. Minato remembered the tiny smile that had crossed Sasuke's face as he watched the younger boy, absorbed in the constant play of emotions across his young, open face as Naruto continued his story.
He had felt a pinch of jealousy, recognizing the same look he had given Kushina when they were young, the wonder, the disbelief, the roots of something that would one day bloom into an all-consuming love.
Minato remembered thinking that Sasuke was the moon; as cold and distant as the sun was warm, unable to shine without reflecting the sun's light.
He wasn't the real thing.
He wasn't Naruto.
But he had the same fire, the same passion, the same stubborn will.
The moon wasn't the sun, but sometimes he could pretend.
Minato bit his lip as Sasuke slammed into him, desperate and unrelenting, the piston of hips sending the slap of bare skin echoing throughout the room.
Sasuke's eyes never left his face, and Minato knew what he was looking for, knew that his resemblance to his son was uncanny.
Is this what he would look like? Minato could almost hear him ask.
If we had time, if we had grown old together, would this be what I could have had?
Minato closed his eyes and pictured golden hair lit by the sun, eyes that danced with blue flame. He pictured tan skin and heard a rough, cocky voice.
He opened his eyes and for a second saw Naruto's spark, saw his son reflected in the gaze of the young man he had called his soul mate.
"Naruto!" he yelled as he came, the cry echoed by Sasuke as they slid down the wall and sprawled across the bed.
On the dresser, Minato could see his baby's forehead protector. He saw them reflected, and felt a rise of bile.
Neither said anything as they lay, but they both knew what the other was thinking.
This wasn't about love.
This wasn't even about lust.
This was about warming their hands while their bodies froze.
This was about wanting the sun and getting the moon.
This about having nothing left but a reflection.
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