When their eyes meet for the first time in three years, something fragile and foreign and new swells inside his chest, then promptly shatters into a hundred pieces. They stand again at the Valley of the End, and he can feel himself vaguely hoping and wishing for it to all end. He is so tired. He, the one always bursting with cockiness, energy, and determination—the energetic one of the group, from their Genin years—he is so worn down, like the smooth stones in the rushing rapids surrounding him.

He has tried his best. He has tried, through sheer mulish force and willpower, to bring his brother back. He has searched with unyielding force and a burning need to bring his one best friend back. He has held onto fraying strings, and with characteristic stubbornness, has refused to let go. Where the one he seeks draws his motivation from hatred, he is driven by love, and he tries to bring Sasuke back on that. Can't he see that he is needed? He is the only one who makes Team 7 complete. They are empty without him. Naruto knows they cannot do without Sasuke, and this is why he seeks closure with the Will of Fire expected of every Konoha citizen. But clinging so desperately to a rapidly consuming flame only burns him in the end.

He finally speaks, his voice croaking a little. "Why…" That's all that's repeating in his head, and it's all he says, over and over again. "Why, why, why, why—" He can't hold on to any other coherent thought—his frustration and fatigue and a sudden, inexplicable urge to drown himself in tears are enough to overwhelm him. He has grown older and his technique and power have improved, but inside, he's still as lost as he ever was. "Why, why, why—"

Sasuke's eyes are unreadable as always, betraying not a single thought. When he addresses Naruto at last, his voice is only barely tinged with sorrow. "Go home, Naruto. Go home."

The stone beneath Naruto's feet suddenly gives way, and he feels himself falling, falling. As he approaches the deadly rapids, he looks up to the sky to see Sasuke's gaze boring into his. Before, he would fight for a fourth, a fifth, a sixth chance to bring Sasuke back. Sixth for a future as the sixth Hokage, perhaps? But really, he's just so exhausted by now and it's kind of nice, the feeling of air on his skin, and even though everything inside him is shifting and groaning uncomfortably as he falls to his probable death, he really can't bring himself to care anymore. He closes his eyes and mourns, not his own death, but the fact that he could not keep his promise to Sakura.


Naruto wakes in a warm sweat. His sheets are damp from perspiration and the weak, watery smell of panic surrounds his bed. His hair is stuck to his scalp, and his hands are curled into rudimentary fists, like those of a baby just learning to open and close the hands.

He shifts in his bed, forces himself to smile (even though there is no one there to see him), and pulls the covers into some semblance of order. He will not cry.

Somehow, at whatever cost, he will bring his brother Sasuke back.


After a long day volunteering at the hospital, Sakura locks herself in the bathroom, ignoring the protests of her mother, and soaks her aching feet. She submerges her toes in a basin of nearly burning-hot water for close to an hour, turning them an unholy shade of red.

She lets out a sharp, shallow sigh that she has been holding inside her all day. She's not quite sure why it's there, except that Naruto has been looking more and more desperate to get out of the village and find Sasuke again in the past few weeks.

She doesn't like to think about it too constantly anymore and prefers to let her mind wander to happier things whenever possible. But she knows that one day, her boys will meet, and they will fight. Her stomach lurches at the thought. Dear, dear Naruto and Sasuke… always arguing with each other, in a never-ending battle to conceal their fiercely friendly relationship. A brotherhood of rivalry, of pride and competition—but a brotherhood of very real love. Naruto was the carefree, happy brother that Sasuke never had, and hell, Sasuke was the only brother Naruto ever got.

She thinks of the first day they met as Team 7, and her heart, in queer nostalgia, grows hot and tender. She remembers the childlike crush—which she now sees more as idolatry—which she harbored for Sasuke. And she remembers her contempt for Naruto and her awe of Kakashi-sensei (which was, admittedly, quickly spoiled). She lets her mind immerse her body in deceptively pleasant memories once more. She relives their bell test, their excursions to Ichiraku, their missions together… everything up until the Chuunin exams, where everything turned to complete shit. But when she returns to reality, she remembers that things have changed.

Her admiration for Sasuke has deepened into a calmer, sadder, but fundamentally stronger and sisterly need to bring him back. Naruto has won her utmost respect, and she has started to see him as the fledging man he is. She's grateful to him for being such an unwavering rock, feeling that he may be the only one crazier about getting Sasuke back to Konoha.

She loves Sasuke and she loves Naruto, but not like in the silly romance novels she used to read. She loves them and hates them and feels every shade in between about them, and sometimes she wonders why the hell she got stuck with the most twisted team in the Rookie Nine but most of the time she's grateful she did, and she keeps her fingers crossed and trains and works endlessly to prepare for The Next Time, in the hopes that she will be useful in getting Sasuke back. She treasures a secret hope that, like acides and bases, their relentless, undying love for Sasuke will neutralize the hatred that has been flourishing in his soul, entangling itself around his heart like vines on a tree.

She just wants Sasuke back so they can fix Team 7 already and be happy.


He wakes in the dead of night, eyes flying open. He stays frozen in bed, body tense and guarded as always. If anyone is there, they will receive no indication that he is awake.

No one seems to be there, so he slips out o f the covers and perches on the edge of the bed. It's uncharacteristic of him, but he sits there and looks into the sky and thinks about Itachi, heart heavy. Then his eyes fix on the moon, and before he can suppress it, a memory flies back to him, startlingly vivid. Stargazing with Team 7.

"It makes me think of a cheese! Eh, Sakura-chan, don't you see it?"

"Ugh, does it always have to be about food? You've completely ruined it! It makes me think of a romantic night…."

"It makes me think of wholeness."

Kakashi-sensei's unexpected contribution to the conversation gets Sakura to raise an eyebrow and Naruto (much less subtle) to roll over and stare for a second before he rolls back over. Sasuke merely continues looking up at the sky from where he lies. They all sit and ruminate on that for a minute, and it is quiet. The silence stretches on and on until Naruto and Sakura's breathing patterns even out. They've fallen asleep.

Sasuke sighs and longs for wholeness for a split second, but he immediately rebukes himself for his lack of restraint. He must never lose himself to weakness, not when there are villages to be avenged for injustices done to big brothers who shielded their kid brothers from the darkest parts of the night.

He cannot let their shallow smiles and—he argues unconvincingly to himself—false bonds sway his resolve and tug at his heart. They are the enemy now—loyal to a village that killed his clan and broke his beloved brother's will. His mind screams otherwise, but he quashes those thoughts mercilessly.

He must stay completely focused and complete his job as an avenger, with one thought in mind—crush Konoha.

Sasuke sighs, unconsciously mirroring one of his teammates.

But he must keep reaching and reaching. There is no more room for softness.

Revenge at all costs—in love and in hatred.


A/N: So this idea totally seized me at 11-something PM and I had to grab paper and a clipboard and scribble like there was no tomorrow because my dad was using my computer…. And I ended up finishing at 12:31AM. And I don't regret it, because my spurts of writing-inspiration are few and far between.

Even though the idea has been done to death, I hope you enjoyed!