Two weeks have passed since the wave mission. Two weeks since he met and said a final goodbye to his unrequited friend, Haku. Two weeks since Zabuza died and the tyrant Gato, a shipping company bigwig, was taken down permanently. And finally, two weeks since he witnessed the supposed "death" of his team mate and the revival of Wave country.

Upon returning to Konaha Team 7 had been given one week of leisure time to recover form their mission and one week to "train". Which they had done. The first week Naruto spent resting and doing what he usually does (spending time with the old man and occasionally Ayame at Ichiraku's and venturing the forests of Konaha whenever he got too bored.). The second week, however, was a tad bit more eventful. Once the team had been cleared to train again, they would individually go ahead and do their own individual work. Not that they could really do much considering Kakashi was needed in order to be cleared to learn more advanced skills, and he was still recovering from the strain he placed his sharingan under and of course consulting the Homage on the Kyuubi fiasco that occurred during the mission, but no one needed to know about that.

Today was the first day they would meet up to return to duty and do some team training depending on what mission they were given. Before the two week break their silver-haired sensei had told them to meet up at training ground seven at their usual time. Naruto decided to get there a little early so that he could do some thinking and if he zoned out he wouldn't be late.

Arriving, Naruto had taken it unto himself to climb one of the trees and find a suitable perch for him to wait on, near the little red bridge where they usually met. Here he began his musings.

For the past two weeks the supposed "death" of Sasuke, his team mate, had plagued him like no other, he thought the other boy hated him and so he acted the same way towards him, so as to not raise suspicion. In reality he actually kinda like the duck-butted boy. Sure he was a prick, annoying, stuck up, infuriating, irrational, high-and-mighty, among other things. But first and foremost he was broken and confused, much like himself. However, the other boy didn't seem to notice this similarity amongst the two of them. Granted, Naruto didn't seem to be broken nor confused considering he seemed to constantly vie for attention, grin too wide (which was without question not suitable for someone of such a nature) and last but certainly not least, he wore a gaudy, ridiculous, terrible, horrid, neon orange jumpsuit which had become a staple of marksmanship for the boy. It gave his skin a pinkish-orangish tan from the glaring color. Back to the point, the main reason as to why the supposed "death" had hung over him for the past two weeks was because the boy had saved him from his own "death".

'I thought he hated me,' thought the small blond 'I mean, I know he does. But then why did he do that? Why did he save me? He has no reason to. It's not like I've ever done anything for him. Unless you count bringing him food everyday as some sort of giant debt.'

Halfway through his Academy years, when Sasuke had resumed school after the Uchiha-massacre, it had become apparent to the blue-eyed boy that his Onyx-eyed counter part had no idea how to cook. They had been in a short culinary class they were required to take as a part of the survival skills portion of their academics that they had to complete. Out of everything they made Sasuke could only manage to slice some tomatoes, which was no surprise considering they were his favorite food which was weird in itself. But hey, who was he to judge with his apparent addiction to ramen. And while Sasuke's tomatoes were sliced quite supremely, everything else they made he had somehow managed to burn it. And by everything Naruto means everything the boy couldn't even manage to make a damn sandwich without burning it. Naruto, realizing Sasuke's dilemma, had made it his responsibility to make the boy lunch from then on, seeing as he could relate to only being able to consume one thing without risking food poisoning.

When Naruto was kicked out of the Orphanage at the ripe age of four, the only thing he could make was ramen. That is until old man Teuchi had taken him under his wing and taught him how to cook. Now the boy was in love with the art.

One might wonder why Naruto didn't simply teach Sasuke how to cook and there were two reasons for this. One, Sasuke may not take kindly to the class dobe trying to teach him something and two, Naruto knew a hopeless case when he saw one, even he himself had shown some promise when first learning to cook. And so, Naruto made Sasuke his lunch and would deliver his dinners to Sasuke's doorstep every day so the raven haired heir wouldn't from something as petty as malnourishment considering the large reservoirs of money he possessed, and in return Naruto would suspiciously find enough money in the pocket of his trousers at the end of every week to continue to make both lunch and dinner for Sasuke. It was an even trade, one that both boys were happy for. Naruto become it gave him something to do and Sasuke because he had two delicious meals to eat every day and although he would never admit it, it gave him the semblance that someone genuinely cared about him. And to this day, the trade has yet to end between the two. Sasuke still found meals at his doorstep everyday and Naruto always suspiciously found money in his pocket. It brought a smile to both of their faces.

Of course, no one else knew about this.

'But still, is that really enough that he would die for me? If it is then he must be different than I thought. Will he still be an ass though? Will he bring it up? And if he does then, what do I say? Do I smile? Do I remain impassive? Should I just be myself?' he thought pensively.

Having been lost in his thoughts and memories, Naruto hadn't realized that he had gained an audience. That is, until the voice of a certain brooding duck-butt, as Naruto had affectionately dubbed him.

"I didn't know you sang, dobe." taunted the Uchiha, with amusement dancing in his eyes and the ever-present smirk on his face.

Effectively breaking him from his reverie and causing him to whip his head around and stare at the remainder of his team with a deer-in-the-headlights look.