If, Kakashi thinks, as he hasn't since he was a child and first discovered the danger of this word, walled himself off from its lure. If Kakashi had been a better person, or the world had been a better place – if Sasuke had never been scarified to Orochimaru, if they hadn't wasted all their chances…

If Itachi hadn't turned on Sasuke, then…

…then Itachi walks back into the blue sitting room shortly after nine o'clock, October 10 seven years ago. He sits down next to Sasuke and Kakashi on the carpet, slipping an arm around Sasuke and pulling him close. Sasuke curls into him without protest, reaching over his arm to move his shogi piece. For a long moment, Itachi buries his face in Sasuke's hair, breathing in deeply.

Kakashi lifts an eyebrow, turning to throw some more wood into the fireplace – to let Itachi collect himself.

Itachi shakes his head, straightening. "That woman…!"

Sasuke stares up at him. Mikoto's been cruel and callous to Sasuke for as long as Kakashi's known her, and yet Itachi's never referred to her as anything but "Mother", respectful and polite even when disagreeing viciously.

Itachi hesitates for almost a minute, then pulls Sasuke into his lap, resting his chin against the top of Sasuke's head. Sasuke squirms, starting to speak quickly in Japanese, but Itachi won't let him turn around enough to see his face, holding him locked in what must be a bruising grip.

"They really meant to…" Kakashi says.

"Over my dead body," Itachi says. "And certainly over theirs. I made that excruciatingly clear." He relaxes his arms a little, with visible effort. "Ochitsuke, Sasuke. Mou daijoubu." Sasuke twists around, sitting sideways in Itachi's lap so he can look up at his face at last, with the watchful eyes of an unwanted child. Itachi ruffles his hair. "Don't go anywhere with Orochimaru. Never be alone with him." His mouth twists. "I'll kill him if he touches you."

So the war comes.

They manage to stave it off for a while, but shortly after Sasuke's ninth birthday, WW4 breaks out.

When it begins to wind down a bit, years later, it's more from exhaustion than anything else: there's so very little left to fight over. The human population is down from eight to three and a half billion. Which is probably fortunate, because in between the WMDs, the human attempts to use nuclear bombs against demons and the ongoing climate catastrophe, Eurasia alone is still habitable. Only exorcist society remains largely intact, up in their ivory tower.

"I failed," Itachi says. He's standing on a rooftop, the Eternal City crumbling around him, the wind playing with his hair. "I was selfish." He sighs, straightens. "And I can't even regret it."

"Of course not," Kakashi says, his voice coming strange and rough. "Of course you did the right thing."

Itachi turns to him: so young sudden, so human after all. The idea of Itachi as someone who can fail, who can hesitate and hurt, is alien and oddly charming. "I can't believe that."

Kakashi lifts his left shoulder in a shrug. "A few million humans or one crusader?"

"Of course the crusader." Because Sasuke's strong now, so strong that his parents' forced refusal to trade him away can no longer be criticised.

"Exactly."

Itachi lets out a sigh. "Thank you. But I don't believe Orochimaru would've killed him."

"It would've killed you," Kakashi says, quiet suddenly. "In all the ways that matter, it would've killed you."

For a moment of grace, Itachi leans against him, shoulder to shoulder as the sun starts its long fall over the horizon.

xxxxx

Naruto kneels in front of the grave he's decided is Mum's. It has more to do with over-heated exhaustion than with piety, the way his knees give out. All roads lead to Rome, Dad told him dryly when he objected to moving, and here they are, protected from the worst of the war by proximity to the global exorcist HQ in the Vatican.

"I finally stopped shedding," he tells Mum, holding out his arm to show her. The sunburn has finally flaked off, as it does every spring, leaving his skin several shades darker. "Well, it was a while ago."

Really of course this isn't Mum's grave at all. He's in a huge churchyard in a different part of the world, framed by the Mediterranean instead of the Atlantic, and has found an abandoned grave whose soft, rounded shape reminds him of Mum's favourite art pieces. The writing on the stone is in faded Italian: just nonsense to Naruto, just random letters with no meaning attached to them.

He touches the stone gently, feels it sunwarm and rough in his palm. It's been months since he was last here: he's not really supposed to wander around on his own, and also it's cheap, somehow, to confess things to Mum – the bloodshed, the hatred, the unbelievable, desolate frustration – now that she can no longer turn away from him.

The sound of footsteps behind him has Kyuubi surging to the surface. Naruto snaps around, still on his knees, aiming a semi-automatic at what turns out to be just the janitor. The poor man drops his equipment, raising his hands. Naruto puts the gun away and rubs at the back of his head. "Sorry!"

"Tch, dobe."

Naruto snaps around again, even quicker this time. "Sasuke!"

"Hn." Sasuke jumps off the wall surrounding the churchyard, joining Naruto on the grass in front of Mum's grave. Kyuubi splutters and licks his gums, triggered as always by Uriel's scent. Naruto inches closer, pushing his head against Sasuke's arm so Kyuubi can sniff his fill. The smell of Sasuke now – brimstone and blood and skin, angelfire and sweat and ozone – is Kyuubi's favourite smell in the world.

Sasuke pushes him away only when his chin brushes the neckline of Sasuke's shirt, Kyuubi's fangs whispering for an instant against the skin of Sasuke's throat. "Heel."

Naruto sticks his tongue out, sitting back but locking his legs over Sasuke's. "Trapped!"

"Che." Sasuke doesn't kick at him, though, and Naruto grins wider, provocative: Sasuke needs to be a lot more pissed off before he'll start struggling physically with a shifter, who'll always be a hundred times stronger.

Then he sobers, rubbing his grin away with a hand dirty with grave dust. "You finish up in Malaga?"

"Yeah." Sasuke leans back on his hands, stretching out his arms. Despite the climate, steadily hotter each year, he's still pale, though part of that might be the contrast against his hair and eyes. Naruto knows for a fact that he basically bathes in sunscreen, and he's far more covered up here in the perpetual summer heat than he was back home. He looks kind of medieval, in those loose linen clothes – especially in contrast to what he calls Naruto's touristy get-up. "We might be able to start on Algeria soon. Start reclaiming the liveable parts of Africa."

Africa, who couldn't pay their indulgences and was depopulated by demons. At least the content is still partly salvageable, if not its inhabitants. Australia fell to climate change, and America bombed itself to pieces.

"But you didn't just kill demons, right?"

Sasuke sighs, but he doesn't hesitate. Sasuke isn't a hesitant person. "No. We purged it."

"You know there were shifters settlements!"

"Humans, too. They were told to move."

"With, what – one day's grace period?"

"Naruto, the fucking wards were breached. It's not like it would've been better if the demons took them."

"I just," and he punches the ground, so hard a miniature earthquake, just a few centimetres deep, shudders around them. "It's such a smaller world than the one we were born in."

"Isn't that good for you?" Sasuke asks rather cynically. His mouth twitches into that little half smirk/half sneer that Naruto wants to bite off his fucking face. He'd lick it all better afterwards, drag his tongue through the open flesh of Sasuke's ripped face, and – okay, that's enough of that. Calm the hell down, he tells Kyuubi, directing a challenging glare at Sasuke, who shrugs, "The only reason humans were ever a threat to you was their population size. The odds are much more in your favour now."

Naruto shrugs too, mirroring the jerky movement designed to annoy Mikoto. "I wanted a bigger world. A better one."

"They did it to themselves."

To an extent, this is true. The Americans took issue with the exorcist system for prioritising exorcisms, tried to strongarm themselves into a better position, and were consequently blacklisted: left with little choice but to try and take matters into their own hands.

Extensive nuclear bombing of your own land can only end in disaster. Maybe someone will live there again, but it'll be hundreds of years from now.

Global warming, which destroyed Australia, and capitalism, which killed Africa, are obviously human inventions.

Naruto makes a gesture like he's trying to grab the air, force it into shape. "When all your options suck…"

"Yeah, well. What's done is done. What's left can be managed better."

"Yeah," Naruto agrees. "It'll have to be. Well, we finally stabilised the temperature rise this year."

"Yeah? Good."

"Yeah, they just released it. And if you can get started on cleansing Africa in earnest…"

Sasuke reaches forward, quick as a snake, and pokes Naruto sharply in the forehead. "Aren't you omitting something?"

"Hmm?"

"Kakashi said you were up in the Alps."

"Yeah. Yeah, I was."

"Fucker," Sasuke snaps at him. "I told you not to go alone."

"What? I can't just stand by, and – they raided Milan, you know. Said it was a shifter den, went in with fire bombs." He crosses his arms over his chest, defensive. "Anyway it's not like you're all that much use against humans."

Sasuke lifts an eyebrow.

Naruto swats at him. "Come on. You're not gonna burn them or sic a demon on them, not when you've finally got that non-heresy treaty in place. Not even on BEAST."

"I'm perfectly capable of shooting them," Sasuke grumbles.

"Yeah, and of getting shot!"

Sasuke scowls at him, and Naruto scowls back. They're looked in a staring match, Kyuubi wild and insane, a whirlpool in the depths of Naruto, and a faint gleam behind Sasuke's pupils that will be Uriel – until Sasuke's phone goes off. It plays a pompous, sickly-sweet and rather old-fashioned song in Japanese.

"Fucking Kakashi," Sasuke grumbles.

"Oh, sure, blame him!"

"Tch. Like I'd choose the intro from bloody Oniisama e for Itachi. He's a truly sick man." Before Naruto has time for a rejoinder, Sasuke accepts the call, as well he might because Itachi gets paranoid after only four rings. "What?"

Predictably, Itachi wants him indoors before curfew. Sasuke's insisted for years that if he's capable of exorcising devils solo, he's surely old enough to walk home after sunset, but there's no real arguing with Itachi. Anyway Naruto should probably get home himself – BEAST will likely be retaliating, and they don't want any streetfights. Better to let the fanatics beat themselves bloody against their walls.

"Come on," he says, pulling Sasuke to his feet. "My place is closer."

It's a yellow house with green shutters. Naruto discovered shutters when they relocated to Italy, and fell instantly in love, but he loves them as something adorable and foreign: as something belonging to a place that isn't home. He'd thought of Rome in terms of the empire and the Vatican, had expected something…something self-consciously impressive, something grand. In reality Rome's beauty is more on the cute side.

The Tiber too is different, both from what he'd expected and from the flood he's used to, a green snake with dirty edges.

Sasuke nudges his shoulder. "What?"

"It just doesn't look like the place Cesare Borgia dumped his brother's corpse, you know?"

"You do realise that show about them wasn't actually a history lesson?"

"How would you know?" Naruto shoots back. "When were you last in school?"

Sasuke looks thoughtful, as though he's trying to remember. To be fair, going by Sakura's gossip, school doesn't seem to be teaching them much useful stuff. Sasuke speaks several languages, can do basic math, and knows how to use Google. Whatever else school could've given him is hardly worth more than having him exorcise full time.

It's the same for Naruto, pretty much, though he'd have liked to be able to pick up a bit more Italian, even if everyone speaks English these days. It is a smaller world, hopefully small enough for a proper lingua franca to take hold. As Sasuke said last time Naruto waxed maudlin about how they're caged in, how they were born into an open world that's been steadily closing – But isn't it finally possible? The dream of Europe.

This was shortly after Naruto had let Esteban González Pons join Palme and MLK and Wallenberg and Marx and the rest of his Political Justice League. Europe is not a market, it is the will to live together. Leaving Europe is not leaving a market, it is leaving shared dreams. We can have a common market, but if we do not have common dreams, we have nothing. Europe is the peace that came after the disaster of war. Europe is the pardon….the return to freedom... Europe is the fall of the Berlin Wall… Europe is the welfare state, it is democracy. Europe is fundamental rights. A world of peace, of culture and civilisation, a world without borders – a word without end.

Sasuke's always been rather less perceptive to the romance of democracy, of the mass movement, of we the people. He raised an eyebrow, though not without interest, Wasn't he just moaning over Brexit?

Naruto shrugged. Not like that lasted.

The corner of Sasuke's mouth quirked. Wouldn't have been much of a European Federation if it did. He pushed his fringe out of his face. But take care. The humans are in pieces, it'll be the Church establishing Eurasian rule.

Which is less horrifying than it might've been, because at least half the Council is reasonable, and they've had to come around to the view that shifters are far more useful than humans. Also any exorcist knows for a fact that the bible has preciously little to do with God, so there's no real risk of some Christian caliphate. Still, Naruto would like to return to an order where people could participate, an era of active citizenship.

In the present Sasuke nudges him. "Are you going to let us in?"

"Mmh, yeah." He turns the key, leading them upstairs. Most of the shifters just nod to Sasuke, deferential and distant. Shukaku hisses at him, even as Naruto mimes zipping his mouth shut, but Gaara knows better than to do anything.

He jumped Sasuke once, two years ago now, broke most of his ribs before Uriel's fire forced him away. Itachi went spare and Dad wouldn't step in, because Gaara unarguably had done it to himself. Sasuke finally put an end to the matter, less because he felt for Gaara and more because Itachi's over-protective big brother tendencies are humiliating at the best of times.

As usual, he ignores Shukaku's hissing. Naruto has the idea that Sasuke approves of Gaara in the sense that he approves of Naruto having a very loyal, very strong shifter companion to watch his back when Sasuke himself isn't around.

In his room he finds the wrong mess on his desk – Naruto's mess is a systematic mess, and this doesn't look like it should. Probably Konohamaru has gone through it again, searching for…Naruto's not sure what, but Konohamaru's in a sullen mood lately, resentful perhaps of Naruto having less time for him, or of Kushina working more closely with Naruto, even if that's to protect Kono – and Sakura perched on his bed talking to Ino on her phone. She wiggles her fingers at them, smiling.

Naruto mimes hi. Sasuke makes straight for his wardrobe and helps himself to a towel and some clothes. "I'm taking a shower."

"You do kind of smell," Naruto points out.

"Tch. You're the one who keeps sniffing me. You must like it."

Naruto wets his lips. "I do." He'd like to bury his nose in Sasuke's neck, in his armpits, drink in the smell of him until he's drunk on it.

Sasuke lifts an eyebrow but leaves it at that, presumably eager to wash off the Spanish grime and the perpetual layer of sweat and sunscreen.

Sakura finally hangs up and pats the bed beside her until Naruto sits down, chucking off his sandals and stretching his toes. "Ino's gone insane," she reports, not without glee. "Here, look, now she's convinced Sasuke's got with Hanabi!"

Naruto goggles. "What?" Certainly Sasuke and Hanabi are friendly, but…

"Look, look! And that'd mean he isn't gay, which means she can no longer give up on him gracefully. She's going spare."

Naruto finally grabs her hand, keeping the phone steady so he can see. It shows him Sasuke sitting on a bench and someone – presumably Hanabi Hyuuga: only visible from behind, but it's undeniably the Hyuuga hair, undeniably an exorcist uniform – leaning close and kissing him.

"Naruto – ouch."

"Huh? Oh. Sorry!" He belatedly releases her hand. "This can't – this doesn't make any sense."

"Naruto." Sakura smiles at him, almost with pity. "Sweetheart. Obviously that's not Hanabi."

Naruto looks again, and indeed, those shoulders are too broad to be Hanabi's. "Fucking Neji?!"

"Well," Sakura says rather carefully, sounding surprised. "Is that so unexpected?"

"He just – he could do better. Sasuke."

"Of course he can," she says, still very softly. "Obviously he thinks so too. See? It's not like he kisses him back."

Sasuke returns to the room wearing Naruto's tshirt, which is a bit too large and reveals his clavicles, and Naruto's shorts. His hair is still dripping – that was something Naruto learnt swiftly and happily, that there's little point towelling your hair in the southern summer, it dries on its own so quickly.

"What the hell, bastard!" he demands, grabbing Sasuke's arm and tugging him down on the bed. Kyuubi growls, Naruto's mouth suddenly dry and aching with how bloody fantastic Sasuke smells, the scent of Naruto's detergent and body wash all over him. God, he wants to lick that smell from Sasuke's skin… "You're off kissing Neji Hyuuga, and I have to find out from Sakura?"

Sasuke shrugs. They're pressed side to side, so the movement rubs their arms together. Naruto's heartbeat spikes uncontrollably.

"It's wasn't my business telling anyone."

"I'm not anyone," Naruto protests, pressing his face briefly into the sharp edge of Sasuke's shoulder. His fingers play with the hem of Sasuke's shirt – his shirt – feeling the warmth from Sasuke's body. In revenge for Sasuke keeping secrets, he lets his nails scratch against the small of Sasuke's back, up underneath the shirt.

Sasuke arches away from his hand, taking hold of his jaw and lifting his face for a steady look. "It's not like he's out. You know what Hiashi's like."

"Mmh." He lifts Sasuke's hand away from his face, toys with it, bending Sasuke's long thin fingers this way and that. "I'm surprised yours weren't – they're fucking arseholes about everything else."

"Given the Church's long and proud tradition of raping little boys, it'd be a bit hypocritical."

"Hypocrisy is kind of its thing, though?"

Sasuke snorts in agreement, freeing his hand at last.

They play a few levels and watch a few episodes of some stupid show – the whole point of watching telly together is talking about what you're watching, which inevitably turns into talking about other things, which means this is not the time for appointment television – but Sasuke's always needed a lot of sleep, and Sakura has school early. They're in bed by half past nine like good children, Sasuke in the middle as always. Iruka's more conservative about these things than Naruto would've imagined, and it's rubbed off on Sakura to the point she'd hardly be comfortable sharing a bed alone with a straight boy.

As always, Naruto reaches over Sasuke and cops a feel or two; as always, Sakura giggles before she shrieks at him; as always, Sasuke kicks him in retaliation; as always, Naruto catches Sasuke's legs with his own, tangling them firmly together.

As always, he wakes up sprawled all over the bed, Sakura and Sasuke pressed to its edges, but with Kyuubi's tails wrapped around Sasuke. Uriel surges back against them, little static shocks erupting across Naruto's nerves.

Groggily half-awake, he nestles into the pillow, which smells of Sasuke's hair, and feels at home after all.

xxxxx

"You were out," Fugaku says.

Sasuke makes for the tea pot. "I'm aware. What's your point?"

In its own way, Kakashi reflects, it's poetic justice. Fugaku's worked hard for a world where exorcists are demi-gods: an absolute meritocracy based on the value you can add to society, your role in the survival of the human race. According to those very rules, Fugaku's hardly fit to lick Sasuke's boots.

He grumbles something into his coffee now, before collecting his things and leaving the room.

Sasuke smirks, that crooked, uneven little smirk that might one day quite soon be that of a heartbreaker. Always an adorable child, he's growing into his teenaged looks now. Mikoto was one of the great beauties of her generation, and Sasuke takes after her even more than Itachi. Certainly there's no trace of Fugaku in him.

"Rude," Kakashi mumbles, rather in approval, dropping several sugar cubes into his coffee.

"I learnt from the best," Sasuke tells him, drinking his tea strong and untainted by milk or sugar while raiding the fridge for leftovers. Even as a child, he never much liked sweets.

"You know, I might need to have a talk with Naruto. It's very déclassé to not even offer some breakfast the morning after."

"Tch."

"You can hardly expect to avoid walk of shame associations when you're wearing his shirt."

Sasuke looks down at the offending article, which carries the logo of a fastfood chain, with some consternation. "His idiot little brother dumped my clothes in the toilet."

"To be fair, he made my morning better."

"Fuck off," Sasuke grouses. He's pushed up his sleeves, thick morning light playing over his arms, painting them golden.

"Now, now, as your honorary oniisama…"

Sasuke pushes at him. It's a perfectly ordinary, familiar movement, but it's also one that's changed lately, become charged differently. His hands linger for maybe a few seconds on Kakashi's chest.

It's tempting to catch him.

Instead he pokes Sasuke's face. He aimed for the cheek, but Sasuke's not keeping still, and it transpires that his finger ends up pressed to Sasuke's lips, pressed hard enough to feel a hint of wetness and heat between them.

Sasuke bites him.

It's not a sexy bite, but a vicious, sharp-toothed one that makes him bleed in Sasuke's mouth. Which makes Sasuke swallow, and the finger's pressed to the smooth slick inside of Sasuke's cheek, Sasuke's lips closed tight around the second knuckle, and Kakashi supposes he can maybe see why Itachi directs such a death glare at him from the doorway.

He's not surprised when Itachi intercepts the scene very quickly indeed. "If you need a thumb to suck, Sasuke, at least keep it in the family." Kakashi's index finger is out of Sasuke's mouth and Itachi's thumb in before Sasuke can protest.

Sasuke glares up at him. "This seriously doesn't disturb you?" His words come unarticulated, indeed barely comprehensible, around the digit he appears to be giving a defiant suck.

"Not at all," Itachi says mildly, completely unruffled.

"You are so weird," Sasuke tells him, spitting out his thumb.

He's barely out of he room before Itachi directs his most fervent and indeed quite frightening look at Kakashi. "You will not."

Kakashi smiles blithely, before sobering somewhat. "Isn't that the whole point? I'm safe because nothing's going to happen."

Itachi remains suspicious. "You're expecting me to believe you have no interest?"

Kakashi shrugs, leaning back against the counter. "If he were a bit older…"

"He's not," Itachi cuts him off. "He's fourteen."

Kakashi makes an idle gesture, sipping coffee. "Exactly. Which is why I'm meekly accepting this – pre-emptive shovel speech, rather than telling you to stop being a controlling creep."

Itachi breathes out rather heavily, picking up Sasuke's cup and finishing the tea. "I'd hoped that weak-willed Hyuuga boy… then in a few years, if you were both still interested."

"Why would he ever have any interest in a weak-willed Hyuuga?"

Itachi smiles. Sasuke, really, has always been the only thing that can make him smile.

In the interest of keeping the peace, Kakashi neglects to point out that when Naruto finally gets his head out of his arse, he's not going to be deterred by Itachi's disapproval.

xxxxx

"Ugh," Naruto grumbles. "If figured Scandinavia would finally boast some reasonable temperatures. What's all this global warming been for?" He's a few miles outside Oslo, it's May, and he's still wearing bloody mittens.

"The golf stream changed course," Raidou tells him, smirking a bit. "It's colder here now than it was before."

Naruto shrugs, blowing pointlessly on his fingers. "Ah, well. At least we get to see some snow again."

It would've been nice if Konohamaru was here, so Naruto could start a snow ball fight with him, maybe mend some bridges. Kiba too would've been a great opponent. Obviously he's going to sneak a handful snow down the back of Shino's shirt at first opportunity, but Shino's oversensitive about these things so it'll probably turn into more of a fight than a playfight.

Rumour had it BEAST forces had isolated a small, rural shifter settlement – and rumour turned out to be true. The BEASTers were paramilitary, but while they might terrorise civilian shifters, they could never stand against a trained shifter taskforce.

Naruto kept warm in the morning, building up a good fire to get rid of the corpses. It must still be burning behind them, in the liberated settlement. Some of the inhabitants came with them, most planning to stop in Oslo but some aiming to go back to with them all the way to Rome.

Naruto's arguing, mostly playfully, for a bit of a detour to see the northern lights when the sky darkens above them. "Fucking hell. DEW guns out now!" The rosary around Naruto's neck burns, on the very edge of painful. Human and shifter leaders are issued relics – he's not sure he would've qualified, but from what he's understood, the rosary Sasuke made him is as good as they get. A strange, peaceful light glows around him, making Kyuubi sneeze irritably: Virgin Mary's love caresses his soul.

If things really go to shit, her light will be replaced by Uriel's, which is an altogether more painful and frightening experience.

"In the cars now! We should be able to make it to Oslo before they hit."

They do reach the suburbs before the demons hit them in earnest, but the wards are damaged here too. Shrill alarms ring through deserted streets: there's no other option than making a stand, hoping the infestation is minor.

Uriel is out by the time they've left the cars. Kyuubi growls and grumbles, focused on keeping Naruto safe from the angelic energy protecting him from the demons. Everyone else is not that fortunate. He's tried sharing the rosary, even give it away, but Sasuke knows him too well for that: it will only work for Naruto.

Really, they work best together. Naruto steps between Sasuke and any physical threat, would and has torn apart hundreds for him, made himself a meat shield absorbing the projectiles from tommy guns and rocket launchers: with Sasuke present, no demon or indeed devil would ever get close to threatening Naruto. Naruto remembers skidding into Sasuke's bedroom in the middle of the night, dragging him out of bed to come save Dad and Konohamaru when some arse BEAST-friendly exorcist had sicced demons on them and he couldn't know who to trust. They ran through the silent night streets, Sasuke a few decimetres off the ground, and then finally they were home, and the matter was dealt with quickly and easily, the world safe again.

Uriel tore the demons apart like so much mist, erased them from the world.

While Sasuke's parents lost the ability to allow or disallow Sasuke anything a long time ago, Naruto can only assume that Itachi failed to immolate him for that little stunt because when it was some crazy humans and insurgent shifters turning on the exorcists, it was Naruto who came and got Sasuke out. That was years ago, before Uriel had manifested enough to prevent Sasuke being hit by bullets, or to let him wipe dozens of shifters. Naruto dragged and carried him through air vents and sewers. Sasuke, grim and silent, eventually accepted his fate and did as directed, keeping hidden while Naruto cleared the way, only leaning out of cover to shoot.

Right now, though, Naruto would be happy to see Itachi, or indeed any exorcist – and finally he does.

Mami meets his gaze from across the street, wiggling his fingers.

Naruto's not the only one stomping over to him. "Fucking exorcise already!"

Mami smiles at him. "I'm in no hurry." Around them demons are sucking the souls from Naruto's shifters, leaving nothing behind. "After all, there aren't any people here."

Naruto shoots Mami's knee cap, then presses the muzzle of his gun into the soft flesh under Mami's chin. "Either we all live, or we all die."

Mami finally stops screaming, staring at him in what seems more shock than hatred. Then the world twists, becomes searing light. Naruto's body is suddenly insubstantial, transformed – destroyed – by the light of exorcism.

It happens so quickly, he barely has time to realise that he's going to die before it stops.

Angelfire explodes and annihilates, but when it fades, Naruto's still there. It's Mami who's gone, exorcised from the world as though he was never alive at all.

Lifting his head, Naruto's transfixed by Sasuke's face, ice-white with shock.

This is the final taboo, the absolute heresy: exorcist killing exorcist.

Sasuke's jaw audibly snaps shut, and the turns his gaze decisively to the sky. Two minutes ago, it seemed to Naruto an impressive infestation. The moment he laid eyes on Sasuke, it became irrelevant.

Uriel's power roars around them: less than five seconds later, every trace of demonic energy is gone.

Ten seconds later, everyone else is gone too.

Naruto is alone with Sasuke in this sudden ghost town, every other shifter wiped from existence.

He grabs Sasuke's still-raised arm, which burns his fingers, he has to drop it or lose them. "What the fuck, Sasuke!"

"No one can know."

"They were people."

"Not people I'd trust with heresy."

Some of these people, Naruto met yesterday. Even the ones he knows – Raidou and Shino are none too fond of exorcists. He couldn't promise they wouldn't speak of this under torture, that they'd die before they breathed a word of it.

But the whole point of coming here, of fighting BEAST and standing against the demons and shooting Mami, was to keep them safe…!

"If it's – why." He breathes in the cold, desolate air, and maybe it's good he burnt his hand because Kyuubi wants out so bad and needs a distraction. "If it's so horrible, why'd you even do it!"

"Shiranai!" Sasuke snaps, never very comfortable with words. "My body just moved on its own!"

Naruto's body moves on its own too, wrapping his arms tight around Sasuke. His burnt hand throbs and screams, the other one fists in Sasuke's jacket. If he unlocked it, it would fist around Sasuke's spine deep under Sasuke's skin. "I'm glad you're here."

"At least their souls weren't eaten." He steps out of Naruto's arms – rather, he tries to, and after a long, long moment Naruto lets him. Sasuke's eyes are still hellfire red, inhuman but no longer unreadable to Naruto. "I'm bound for a Moscow exorcism. Come on."

"This is why we need regulations," Naruto tells him on the train. "If Mami had been obligated to exorcise, this would never have had to happen."

Sasuke sinks into his seat with the ease of someone who spends much of his life on trains, planes, busses. Exorcists are welcome everywhere, needed everywhere, and so have free access to any transportation they require. And a crusader, sent out again and again and again to almost every corner of the continent, requires a lot. He toes off his shoes, resting his feet in Naruto's lap. "The only thing that can interfere with an exorcist's power is another exorcist. Even if he'd been sealed, which would be an abomination, you couldn't have activated it."

"There's gotta be a way. I know there are seals that open up when demons appear."

"Open up, yes. Force you to start exorcising, no."

"We could tweak it."

"Possibly. But you'd be executed for it." He shifts in his seat, light catching in his lashes. "Arguing for a proper separation of powers is a far more realistic approach." His mouth quirks. "How about it, did you finally slug through Montesquieu?"

Naruto grumbles, sinking lower in his seat and pinching Sasuke's toe. Sasuke kicks at him a bit, and Naruto catches his foot, keeps it still. He digs his thumbs into it thoughtlessly, idly massaging. "It's kind of heavy going, you know! The man could think, sure – he couldn't write."

Sasuke lifts an eyebrow, flexing his toes as Naruto presses particularly hard at a spot where he always gets tension knots. "Funnily, I seem to remember you had no trouble getting through Machiavelli in a day."

"That was – train wreck syndrome!"

"Sure," Sasuke says dryly. "And Kakashi reads porn for the excellent metaphors and the gripping background stories."

"You should sneak some tentacle stuff in there. Broaden his cultural horizons."

"And you call me racist."

Naruto sticks his tongue out. They're quiet for a few kilometres before he says, "Exorcists aren't even a majority."

"No, and we're stretched thin as is. Losing even a tenth of the exorcist population – we'd have to give up more land."

"If you can make relics, you've got to be able to, like, bless DEW guns. I mean, exorcists in general. We already established that it works. It has to be put into practice."

They did indeed demonstrate it. It was a DEW gun blessed specifically for Naruto, custom made to work with Kyuubi's energy. One shot could take out a demon, as they've proven to the Council – and soon to the world, because Naruto will leak video very soon indeed if the Council doesn't start moving.

"How much energy did I expand on that gun?" Sasuke says. "It took weeks, I wasted so much power on those prototypes. And you can fire, what, ten shots before Kyuubi can't heal you anymore? Most exorcists couldn't make anything like that, and most shifters, not to mention humans, couldn't use it at all."

"Equality is worth working for! We have to keep trying with this."

"We are." He lets his head fall back against the seat. In the brighter midday light, he looks washed out, his skin papery: the beauty of a relic, like the skull of a martyr. "It's just – people aren't born equal."

"Yet you killed an exorcist for me." It's maybe the cruellest thing he's ever said to Sasuke, and he's said some terrible things, mainly during the dark weeks just after Mum's death.

Sasuke said some pretty horrible things back, but he doesn't now. "You're different."

Naruto's chest grows tight, too tight for air. "Everyone's different to someone."

"Then their someones are free to take action for them."

They stare at each other in this sudden airless silence. Naruto can't breathe: there's no room for his lungs to draw in air, his heart's expanding so violently, filling his entire chest, thrumming through his body to the exclusion of everything else.

In the end Sasuke reaches forward and snatches up Naruto's hand, inspecting the burn damage. He couldn't keep hold of it if Naruto tugged even just a little, but the very authority of his grip freezes Naruto in place even as Sasuke's fingers brush carefully, carefully over the burnt areas, a touch that sears through him. "You're not going to be able to heal this."

"Yeah," Naruto agrees. He was going to say something more, but with Kyuubi suffusing his brain, with Sasuke's eyes locked on him, language disappears.

"Numb yourself," Sasuke tells him.

"But I can…" Naruto starts.

Sasuke ignores him, taking a knife from his leg holster and starting to carve off the damaged flesh. It's just a normal knife, nothing holy about it: it leaves mundane wounds, wounds Kyuubi can heal instantly.

When he's done, Sasuke's hands are sticky with blood. He starts to stand, obviously meaning to go wash them off in the toilet.

Naruto tugs at his jacket. "Stay."

Sasuke holds up his bloody hands, as though presenting an argument, but he does stop.

"Let me." Naruto's face burns, but he can't stop himself. "Let me lick."

Sasuke stands still for a long time, maybe a minute, before he abruptly sits back down, hands spread out on the little table between them. They're tense but pliant as Naruto lifts them to his mouth, Sasuke's pulse thudding through them, Uriel twisting just under his skin but never quite breaking through.

Naruto feels shaky, out of control, as if he's no longer able to stop. He opens his mouth and licks across Sasuke's palm, has to press his mouth to Sasuke's wrist and suck to gag Kyuubi's guttural moans.

They don't talk about it afterwards.