A/N: No long note, I'm in a rush. Enjoy.

Chapter 3: Recall

A new day dawned on groaning children and dragging feet. It was Monday, and the young Shinobi-to-be of the Academy were headed back to school after a weekend of relaxation.

Well, most of them had been relaxing.

Sakura groaned in pain at the soreness of her limbs. She'd watched Sasuke train before, of course – that was the classic thing for a fangirl to watch, though she herself wouldn't have put it that way. But to her it had never been more than a show of skill and strength. It had never struck her just how hard the training Sasuke did was.

She tried to massage some life back into her limbs all through the morning, but it didn't work too well. On the way to school, though, she ran into Sasuke again. It didn't strike her until later how odd that was – Sasuke lived in the Uchiha Compound, on the opposite side of the academy. "Hi, Sasuke!" she cried as she spotted him.

His head cocked slightly as he heard her. He turned to face her, face blank – but not cold at least, if not with the warmth it had borne the day before. "Sakura," he said with a nod. Then, with a slight grin, "Sore?"

She blushed. "Uh… yeah. How do you deal with it? It hurts!"

"I don't get sore easily anymore," he said. "But when I do, I stretch the muscles. It hurts, but it helps in the long run. Try it next time you do any kind of strenuous workout."

She nodded. "Thanks, I will. Anyway, let's go, we're barely on time!"

He nodded. "Lead the way."

Naruto's eyes opened and he screamed – an unfortunately shrill and very un-manly sound. The shriek lasted a few seconds and then he cut off, eyes wide, body rigid in bed.

Sore? chuckled Kurama.

Shut up, furball, snapped Naruto mentally. The workouts of the previous day had been beyond anything he'd ever done even in his own time, and his body of these previous years had been much weaker. He should have been more careful. Still, he needed to improve. The clock said that the time was six, and his alarm had just stopped ringing. Good; he had some time.

He slowly raised himself out of bed, letting the most painful of his muscles rest as much as possible. As soon as he was on the ground he began a stretching cycle to relieve the soreness. It was agony, but that was expected.

For the whole next hour he was stretching his aching muscles. By the end of it he at least felt like he'd manage through the school day. As soon as the clock struck seven he made his way to his counter and prepared himself some instant ramen for breakfast. He knew, of course, that this was not a nutritious way of life, and he had every intention of buying healthier food, but for now everything in his fridge was spoiled – some of it badly. Indeed, he was fairly certain that a boat of gravy he'd never thrown away had developed a complex little civilization, possibly with a religion and everything. He just hoped it took the little bastards a while to develop steam power and electricity.

…Okay, maybe that was a little exaggeration, but it was a fun thing to imagine. And the gravy did smell really bad.

In any case, after school today, he'd go shopping for something that wasn't junk food. He had the money for at least something a little better than this.

After he'd eaten he cleared out his fridge of all the spoiled foodstuffs – which was to say everything. As the last thing (the gravy) made its way to the trash, he knew he'd have to get the stuff out of the house or he'd suffocate in the night. So he then took the time to take his trash outside and throw it into the large bins from which it would be collected either by paid civilian workers or Genin on D-ranks. He'd collected trash enough to know that his bin was a staple Ninja route – no civilian wanted to collect 'that demon's' trash.

He rolled his eyes at the thought. What, did they think he contaminated his garbage with some king of demon-virus? Idiots. In reality, he knew, it wasn't a rational thought that caused the pattern – they simply associated him, and everything associated with him, with the Kyuubi attack. Still, it was annoying – especially since he'd had to collect his own trash too many times to count.

When he got back into his apartment and looked at the clock, he saw that it was already a quarter to eight. His eyes widened at the good fortune that he'd looked now – two minutes later and he'd have been late for the Academy.

In a moment he'd grabbed his backpack and was out the door, running up the road for the school he hadn't attended in almost half a decade.

Sasuke woke early – very early. He had been in the throes of a nightmare. This in itself was usual. Nightmares had been a constant companion since the start of the Fourth Shinobi World War. Watching the people he once thought of as friends die at his own hands would give them to anyone.

When he awoke, he was in a bad mood – and somehow, he couldn't really get into the same fervor over the ideas of protecting his friends as he'd been in the day before. That wouldn't do at all – he had no wish to wind up being unkind to Sakura today at the Academy; or anyone else, for that matter. He had to find some way to get himself psyched.

Suddenly it came to him. As the idea struck him he quickly prepared a breakfast for himself – an omlette with all of the good vegetables – and prepared himself to leave, changing into clothes suitable for the day and such. Once all of this was done, he left the house and took off down the lane of the Uchiha Compound at a jog.

He soon was outside of the walled Compound and in the wider Konoha. From there, rather than risk meeting someone he didn't want to deal with, he took to the roofs, leaping along them quickly and quietly.

Within a few minutes he had made his way back to the apartment where Naruto lived. When he was at a roof that would give him optimum viewing of the place he sat cross-legged, put his elbows on his knees, twined his hands together and lowered his chin onto the mat they made.

He simply looked at the apartment and thought about the boy within it. He would, at this time, still be the innocent, stupid, lovable preteen fool that he'd been forced to grow out of when Sasuke deserted. While growing out of it was good, Sasuke's desertion wasn't.

The kid, at this point in his life, had never known love. Even his parents' last acts had been sacrificing his happiness for the village. Sasuke didn't blame them; there hadn't been any better options and in the end it had turned out for the best – had the Kyuubi Jinchuuriki been anyone else he was sure Madara would have gotten his hands on the Fox long before Sasuke ever thought to use the jutsu.

The simple fact, though, was that love was something out of Naruto's reach at this point of his life; whether it was the love of a friend, a parent, a sibling, or a lover. And now Sasuke was psyched. Burning at the injustice that gave him all he needed and left Naruto alone and friendless, he swore anew that he would give Naruto the first of the above forms of love. He would be the friend the boy so desperately needed. One day, perhaps, they'd once again be like siblings, but this time, Sasuke would ensure that it was in a more positive light.

He sat there for a time longer, just contemplating the nature of his mission. After a time, his thoughts turned to Gaara. He wondered how the boy was doing. He was in a situation almost as bad as Naruto's, at this point of his life. It was actually worse, but that was largely his doing – accidentally. He'd brought the fear of his siblings upon himself by allowing the betrayal of his uncle to change him so. He'd been a relatively quiet Jinchuuriki until his uncle had betrayed him. Sasuke expected that he'd probably be even now trying to win back the love of his siblings – or perhaps his uncle hadn't even died yet.

Suddenly Sasuke checked his watch, wondering whether he was still on time. It was almost six – he'd been sitting for almost half an hour.

There were more productive things he could be doing – training, for one. He stood, looked one last time on his teammate-to-be's apartment, and leapt away from rooftop.

…Just in time to not hear Naruto's scream of awakening.

Naruto stood in the courtyard of the Ninja Academy. He held his position off to the side and leaning quietly against the wall. He'd arrived a little bit early, in the end, and school had yet to be called.

So he took the opportunity to acquaint himself with the surreal nature of what was going on around him. There, in another part of the courtyard, was Ino, just hovering around over nothing, looking a bit lost. Sasuke was likely early most of the time, Naruto realized, and Ino usually tried to be here too. The Uchiha didn't seem to be early today, tough – Naruto couldn't see him anywhere. There over in another corner, Shikamaru and Chouji were seated together. Naruto was honestly surprised they'd gotten here so early – Shikamaru's mother had probably forced him up early today over something or another.

And there, off to the side, seemingly trying to disappear into the walls, was Hinata. Naruto's heart swelled at the sight of her. From his perspective, she'd been dead for barely a month, and the wound was still fresh. All he wanted to do was to rush forward and embrace her.

But you can't, said Kurama flatly. Not yet. Patience, Kit. She needs to grow a little. So do you, for that matter.

I'm not an idiot, furball, Naruto told him. After a moment's hesitation, he added, Well, not that much, anyway. I know we can't be lovers yet – we're both only twelve, for Kami's sake! But you're not stopping me from being the friend I should have been last time.

Nor would I want to— Kurama cut himself off. Look sharp! Uchiha at four o'clock!

Naruto blinked. Slowly, trying to make the movement as casual as possible, he turned slightly to look at the entryway to the courtyard.

There was Sasuke, in the old blue turtleneck he'd worn in the old days. Sakura was beside him, talking to him. And he was talking back. Odd. Perhaps they'd been on better terms before becoming teammates, when Sasuke'd have to deal with her all the time? Who could say?

And then, suddenly, as though feeling eyes on him, the Uchiha turned and his black eyes met Naruto's blue ones. At once Naruto was struck dumb by a strange horror – the eyes he was looking into weren't the eyes of a preteen any more than his own were. If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn that Itachi was already dead and Madara had made himself known.

But then Sasuke looked away, back at Sakura, and Naruto shook the feeling off. Sasuke was a kid. Naruto was attaching his own meanings to something meaningless.

I don't know, Kit, said Kurama, almost nervous. Those eyes did radiate with the chakra of an Uchiha at the peak of his strength.

He's Sasuke, said Naruto simply. That's natural, I'd say.

Perhaps, muttered the Kyuubi.

Sasuke's mind was not on what Sakura was saying, although he was able to respond correctly in spite of that. Naruto's blue eyes filled his mind. They'd seemed… different from how he'd remembered. Actually, they'd seemed far too close to his nearest memories for his liking. What was this? Had he ever really known Naruto at all? This boy didn't seem like an immature prankster.

He looked like the Hokage he would one day be.

Well, so be it. If he was Hokage, he was Sasuke's Hokage.

And then the bell rang, and the class was crowding into the Academy's doors. And Sasuke felt more at home than he had in years.

A/N: Hope you liked it! Review, please!