A.
His adrenaline is all but gone once they're on the road.
Dried up, no more left. Once his heart stops threatening to beat out of his chest he collapses, limp and boneless, on backseat.
That seems to alarm the others, for some reason.
Asuma drives like a madman, weaving in and out of traffic expertly. He turns on his siren just long enough to speed through a few red lights before shutting it off again. He keeps sending concerned looks to Naruto in the rearview mirror, demanding that Iruka keep him conscious in a near-frantic tone that's wildly foreign coming out his mouth.
Iruka does his best; Naruto can't help how he's fluttering in and out of consciousness as he lays on the older man's shoulder, only to be woken up moments later by Iruka's gentle yet insistent shaking.
"Naruto," Iruka says urgently, hard edge in his voice that's only slightly tinged with panic. "Please stay awake."
Naruto wants to tell him to fuck off and let him sleep, but he understands their worry. It's usually not a good sign when the injured party can't keep their eyes open, right?
"Yeah, we got him," Jiraiya says solemnly, speaking to someone on his phone. He turns bodily in his seat so he can look at Naruto over the console. Naruto can't hear what the other person says, but Jiraiya's face screws up and he shakes his head before facing forward. "It's...not good. Make sure Tsunade's ready to go when we pull up. Kid's lost a lot of blood."
Naruto blinks when hearing Tsunade's name, suddenly more alert. It's been a long time since he's seen the Uchiha's personal doctor, even longer since he's been treated by her. He'll be in good hands, then.
He wishes their reunion wouldn't be so urgent and dramatic as this, but at least he gets to see her.
It should take them longer to get back into Uchiha territory, but Asuma manages to pull up in the familiar driveway in less than fifteen minutes.
There are blurry figures standing restless on the porch when they arrive. Naruto can't quite tell who they are from this distance. The fuzzy outlines set off into a near-sprint towards the car before Asuma can even finish parking.
Naruto might feel more embarrassed about being carried inside the compound like a princess if he wasn't halfway to dreamland. Or death, maybe. It's a hard call to make. All he knows is that the back of his eyelids are very appealing at the moment and he wants to see what they have to offer.
He's carried by Kisame no less—but the big man's usual playfulness and mocking tone is absent when he throws open the car door.
He takes one look at Naruto sprawled across the backseat before he can't stop himself from whispering a shocked-sounding: "Fuck." and hesitantly trying to find a place to hold him that isn't covered in cuts and bruises.
There are none, but Naruto appreciates the effort.
"Get him inside," Kakashi barks, brows furrowing when he sees the state Naruto's in. Naruto tries to give him a reassuring smile—he's fine, really. Or, he will be, given time. There's no need for all this excitement—but it only comes off like a pained grimace. It makes Kakashi frown harder; his fist clenches tightly by his side and his eyes fill with something dark and dangerous.
Naruto sighs.
Well, so much for that.
Kisame hoists him up in one quick motion. Naruto can't help the pained hiss that escapes from his teeth, grunting when his bare skin scapes against the front of the big man's shirt.
"Shit," Kisame mumbles. "Sorry."
"Not your fault," Naruto mutters, shrugging with one shoulder. He barely has the strength to do that, let alone keep his head up. He settles into the other man's arms as best he can, keeping his broken wrist close to his chest so it won't dangle in the wind.
"We've gotta head back out," Asuma informs them regretfully. "There's still a lot of shit going down in the city and the boys need backup." He gently cards his fingers through Naruto's hair, sighing heavily, eyes going cloudy and distant for a moment.
Naruto isn't sure where his mind goes—somewhere long gone and far off, probably when Naruto came up to his knees and grinned toothily at him like the little shit he was. It's gone from one second to another, then he's looking up and addressing Kisame when he says—eyes deep and piercing, voice quiet but rough like he's daring Kisame to argue: "Keep me updated, alright?"
Kisame nods dutifully, fingers subtly curling tighter to keep his grip on Naruto. He stands stiff and straight, only slightly intimidated, and Naruto would find that funny in any other situation. Asuma's just...like that. Even the biggest men can't help their subtle flinch when meeting his eyes.
"We'll be back as soon as we can," Iruka mutters softly, gently brushing his fingers over Naruto's cheek. It looks like it takes all his power to tear himself away, his lip catching between his teeth in worry.
Jiraiya ruffles his hair when it's his turn, saying: "I'll treat you to all the ramen you want after this is over, okay?" And Naruto finally manages a grin at that, since he plans to hold him to it.
He's so lucky, to have friends like these. He'll make sure to properly thank them all later.
Naruto vaguely registers Kotetsu and Izumo standing ready by the door to usher them inside. When Kisame bounds up the steps with Naruto in his arms, their carefully curated stone faces drop for the briefest of moments—something like shock and horror passing over them like a shadow—before they school their faces back into blank masks.
It's only then that Naruto realizes how bad he must look, what terrible state he's in, because all four of them have seen some shit in their day. Kakashi isn't the type of lose face and neither are the others, so for all of them to react so strongly means—
Well, he's not exactly sure what it means. Or, he does: maybe they all care a little more than they say they do. Maybe. Maybe it never gets easier to see someone you've known for so long brutally beaten and battered. So many maybes, but—
He won't ask and they won't offer, so he'll just pretend he didn't see.
(He's done enough of that for a long, long time. No point in changing it now.)
There's muffled shouting as they walk inside the foyer, coming from the direction of the living room. Naruto raises an eyebrow, looking up to Kisame is question.
Kisame sighs, informing him that: "She's been at it for hours. Nobody's been able to calm her down."
Naruto doesn't have to ask who "she" is; his mother is the only person who's able to scream and shout for such a long time without getting tired. It's a special skill, one he's almost disappointed that he didn't inherit.
Still, he has no clue who's her chosen victim at the moment. Asuma said that the boys are still out terrorizing the town so it wouldn't be any of them.
Kushina never raises her voice at Mikoto for any reason, strangely enough. Those two disagree about plenty but Mikoto's way too nice to incur her wrath.
So, that only leaves—
"—and they burned my fucking house down, Fugaku!" Kushina yells into Fugaku's face, voice tinged with fierce anger and haunted by the threat of tears.
Fugaku doesn't move, face blank, standing stock still while Naruto's mother rages at him. His hands are clasped behind his back and he watches Kushina like one watches a loose dog: carefully, warily, mindful of its bark and bite.
Mikoto hovers nearby, looking between her friend and husband, nervously fidgeting but far too wise to get in the middle of it.
"After they took my son, my only son and I can't figure out why you're allowing this to go on! The one fucking time I ask you to be the monster you are and instead you choose to sit here with your goddamn thumb up your ass, while your sons are—"
"Kushina," Minato says firmly, physically holding her back as gently as he can. He's always been the only one able to touch her when she gets like this. The only one brave enough to risk losing a finger or two when she snaps and fights like the badger she is. "That's enough. This isn't helping."
His father must know that his words are pointless but he's going to try anyway. Diplomatic as he is, he's going to try anyway.
Wait a minute—
Naruto blinks—shocked first by seeing the last person he expected to step foot back in Konoha, then hit with the realization of his mother's words. His father is here? His house was burned down?!
His brain isn't equipped to handle this many surprises at once, hazy and addled as it is. He doesn't have time to rejoice in seeing his father's face or mourn the loss of his childhood home before his mother gets fired up again.
"I don't give a fuck if this is helping!" Kushina cries, shaking out of Minato's hold. She points an accusing finger in Fugaku's face, nearly growling when she says: "All I care about is—"
"Mom." Naruto interjects, voice little more than a raspy whisper. Four sets of eyes swing to him, startled, since none of them realized they weren't alone.
"Oh," Kushina breathes, gasping softly. She would have crumbled to the floor if Minato hadn't been there to catch her, unmeasurable relief robbing her of her strength.
Her relief is short-lived once she takes a good look at him. The tears she's been holding in for days finally spill out, staining the floor as she stumbles forward towards him. Her hand flies to her mouth in horror and her voice croaks with garbled words.
Naruto sees, at the same time, how his father's eyes widen, hears the rush of breath as he curses colorfully and swallows heavily. He sees the tears that stain Mikoto's face, too, the twitch of Fugaku's fingers like he doesn't know what to do with them. Fugaku's jaw clinches and he closes his eyes, righteous anger twisting his features into something ugly.
"Oh, sweetheart," Kushina says mournfully, hands outstretched but not quite reaching. Like Kisame, she doesn't know where to touch him that won't bring him more pain. She settles on his face, cupping his scarred cheeks since that's—ironically, if you ask him—the only place where he isn't hurt. "Look what they did to you."
Naruto covers her hand with his own, closing his eyes at the warmth of her touch. "I'm okay," He tries weakly, but no one here believes him.
It's fine. He doesn't believe himself, either. He's just had to tell himself that everything's peachy to avoid a complete and utter breakdown. He can't bear to stop now cause he fears he'll sink and drown.
(The water's coming in fast, though. That much is certain.)
Minato is right on Kushina's heels, rushing forward once his shock stops rooting him to the spot. Kushina leans into him with a heavy sigh and Minato doesn't hesitate to curl a protective arm around her. Naruto wishes it was the right time to tease them about that, but he's sure they wouldn't appreciate it at the moment.
Minato's face contorts, transforming into something Naruto doesn't recognize for a split second. Something frightening, an expression that he only remembers seeing on the worse days, years ago. It happens so quickly that Naruto's almost sure he imagined it, until his father speaks up, voice devoid of emotion when he asks: "Why do you smell like gas?"
Kushina looks to Minato's face, then back to Naruto, gasping when she realizes what that means.
There's a charged pause that sweeps the room—the sound of the clocking ticking steadily is the only noise to be heard. Naruto can't fix his mouth to move, can't force the words to form to confirm that they already know.
No one gets the chance to say anything else before Tsunade's rushing in from the hall.
"Put him down, already." She barks to Kisame, giving him a pointed look. "He's dripping all over the floor."
Kisame places him down as gently as he can on the couch, careful not to bump his wrist. Naruto nods at him, smiling weakly to show his appreciation. Kisame only nods, looking away from him like the sight burns.
It just might; they've never been nice to each other, but Naruto knows that Kisame's fond of him regardless. The big man's obviously choking on rage just like Kakashi was—just like Asuma and Kotetsu and Iruka and Izumo and—
So he's more than happy to escape the room for a moment when Tsunade asks for her medical bag that's in the kitchen. He moves faster than Naruto's ever seen him move, quieter than he's ever heard him be. It's downright unnerving.
Tsunade then turns to Mikoto, easily taking command since she knows no one will argue with her at a time like this. "I hate to fuck up a white couch, but I need to treat him now; I'm not waiting until we get upstairs."
Mikoto shakes her head sharply in reply. "I don't care." She says firmly. "Use whatever you need."
Kushina and Minato immediately flank Naruto as he's set down, standing over him protectively like some unseen treat is going to burst through the door.
"You have to let me help him, Kushina," Tsunade says carefully, eyes swinging between his parents but addressing her directly. "I understand your concern, and I'm not saying you have to leave, but I do need some elbow room."
Minato nods slowly, gently tugging on Kushina's arm so she'll step back. His mother struggles, stubbornly trying to stay by his side.
"Mom," Naruto grunts, looking at her sharply.
"Fine, fine!" She snaps before thinking better of it, voice softening when she says: "I'll be right outside, okay?"
He nods, squeezing her hand in comfort. There's none to be found for any of them, but he's sure she appreciates it.
A thought strikes Naruto before everyone leaves and he's clearing his throat before he can stop himself, trying to get Fugaku's attention as he slowly exits, eyes still glued to Naruto like he'll disappear if he looks away.
"Fugaku-san," Naruto calls hoarsely, struggling to sit up so he can stare into the other man's eyes. Moving burns like hellfire but he's determined. Tsunade pushes him back down, mouth ticking in frustration and rolling her eyes forcefully like he's an idiot. He can't exactly refute that at the moment.
His voice doesn't waiver, doesn't stutter when he says: "I didn't break."
Naruto needs him to know. Not because of some misplaced sense of pride, not for a pat on the head. At least, he doesn't think it's because of that; He just...needs him to know, or he'll never stop thinking about it and it will drive him crazy.
Yeah, that's why.
Fugaku blinks at him—a strange mixture of tenderness, anguish, and something else that Naruto can't hope to name paints his face like the sky before a storm. His lips part but no sound emerges.
Finally he says, voice filled with a delicately controlled rage that causes his words to shake:
" I know. I never thought otherwise."
Fugaku sighs heavily, the whole world that rests on his shoulders causing his head to hang. "But we'll worry about all that in the morning."
Naruto nods and lies back on the couch, staring at the white ceiling as Tsunade gets to work. She regards him silently when the others depart, a deep frown etched on her face.
"What?" He asks her, wary of the look she's giving him.
She smiles ruefully, shaking her head. "Nothing," She begins, but amends immediately after. "That devotion of yours never fails to piss me off. I always thought that it might get you killed one day," She sighs, looking through her medical bag for antiseptic. "I wasn't exactly wrong."
He can't, for the life of him, come up with a response, but it's not like she expected one.
B.
The next time Naruto wakes he keeps his eyes half-closed, vaguely aware that he's not alone.
He doesn't remember falling asleep; somehow, he was thoroughly treated and moved into one of the guest rooms without stirring. The EKG that's softly beeping near his head is what rouses him from his slumber, as well as the quiet rumble of voices coming from somewhere in the room.
His wrist lays in a cast, blissfully set and only slightly throbbing. A blessing, since the last time he caught sight of it he nearly threw up at how ugly and swollen it was. His nose isn't lying flat against his cheek anymore—he hopes it won't be forever crooked when the bandage finally comes off.
His body is expertly wrapped in bandages; so many of them overlap each other than he looks like a shitty Halloween costume. Still, it's a better view than bloody gashes and angry welts. Tsunade's handiwork never fails to impress him.
She's nothing if not thorough.
That's why he's not surprised at the IV sticking out of his arm—pumping glorious pain medicine into his weightless body— or any of the medical grade equipment he's hooked up to.
(People like them don't go to hospitals. Too many questions, too many watchful eyes and suspicious nurses that have the nasty habit of calling the police when shifty looking men arrive on their doorstep with unexplained bullet wounds. Tsunade does just fine on her own since she's paid handsomely to keep things like this quiet.)
Minato's sitting by his bedside, slumped in his seat like he's been sitting in it for hours. He probably has, since Naruto has no idea how much time has passed. Fugaku stands behind him, hand placed on the back of Minato's chair. He'd usually have it on his old friend's shoulder in a show of support but it's hard to say if his touch would be welcome.
They don't speak for a long time—so long that Naruto almost pretends to wake up to break the quiet. He hates long silences, hates even more that people who used to be so close have this awkward air surrounding them like shroud. Through his narrowed eyes, Naruto sees Fugaku fidget and Minato sigh, running a tired hand over his face.
His father looks older—more worn, sad, and stressed out than he ever remembers seeing him. Of course he looks that way: he must have rushed here at Kushina's request, feelings be damned, thinking the worst while Naruto was missing. Nearly two decades since he's stepped foot on this cursed soil, but here he is. In this house again, because somehow all that's left of the Uzumaki end up here, one way or another.
Naruto can't imagine how he feels right now, what must be going through his head, but he doesn't have to wonder long since Fugaku finally finds his voice again, after ages.
"Forgive me," Fugaku says, fingers tightening on the chair's back. He looks wan and haunted, tired from more than just the day. "I understand if you're angry. I swore to you that I'd protect him, but I've failed at that." Then quieter he mutters, voice full of something like self-loathing and regret: "Again."
Naruto makes sure to stay very still and keep his breath even. He's sure that he's not supposed to hear this. If he was awake, these feelings wouldn't exist. So, he'll pretend to sleep for a little while longer.
Minato takes a moment before he replies, turning bodily in his seat to regard Fugaku. "If this is your fault, it's mine, too." Minato says, shaking his head. He faces forward, staring absently as he smooths down Naruto's hair, twisting the locks so much like his own between his fingers.
"I let him come back here by himself and I knew better. I knew this wouldn't end well but never tried to convince him otherwise. He's just as stubborn as Kushina, you know? Worse, sometimes."
"He gets that from you." Fugaku mumbles softly. He sounds so achingly fond that Naruto's heart hurts.
They both chuckle at that, eyes going distant with memories. Fugaku risks placing a comforting hand on Minato's shoulder, hovering hesitantly before going for it, eyes bright and full when he's not rejected. Minato sighs again, tilting his head back so it rests on Fugaku's torso and closing his eyes.
They fall back into silence, just taking in each other's presence. It's a long time before either speaks again.
When Minato slowly opens his eyes to stare up at the ceiling, they're sharp and narrowed.
"I'd usually try to convince you not to go down this road," He says seriously, lowering his gaze to look into his friend's eyes. Fugaku's inhale is audible, but he doesn't interrupt. "But I think this has gone on long enough, don't you agree?"
Fugaku's eyes are as black as the night sky when he says: "I do."
"First, they took my friends," Minato continues like he hadn't heard him. "Then the house that I helped build—almost Kushina along with it. Now, it's my son." His fists clench in his lap, body taut like he wants to hit something. Or, someone. "You've done everything you could to avoid all out war, but no more."
Then quieter, in a voice that shakes Naruto to his core, his father says: "They can't have anything else."
"I'll end it." Fugaku says fiercely, fingers nearly bruising where they hold Minato. He stands up straighter like a weight has been lifted off of him. Naruto can't help but wonder how much of Fugaku's faithful restraint was born purely to appease his friend.
He won't ask, but a question like that can be easily answered anyway. Sasuke swore the same for him. Those Uchiha's—ravenous hellhounds that they are, but still devoted to one master.
"I know I ask for too much, but—"
"I'll stay to see this through, if that's what you're wondering." Minato replies, ever the mind reader. Fugaku's relief is palpable, written all over his face since there's no one around to hide it from. "Naruto has to recover before I can take him home and I wouldn't dare leave Kushina alone right now."
"Alright." Fugaku says slowly, taller and scarier than he remembers. "I'll start making the preparations."
For what? Naruto wants to ask. Aren't the others already on the warpath out there? What more does Fugaku plan to do, now that he's been set free from his self-imposed shackles? Naruto's seen him in action enough to know that this won't be pretty, but his heart thumps at the thought of Fugaku going all out.
He's equal parts excited and apprehensive, surprised that the heart monitor doesn't give him away with how hard his heart is beating.
What changes when Fugaku's on the frontlines instead of behind the scenes?
He can't ask, since he's supposed to be asleep. He can't, because his father already knows and smiles dangerously at the implication. Something passes between them that Naruto has no dominion over. Something he doesn't fully understand, something that honest to God scares him.
Just as he has his silent speech with Neji, just like the threads that inexplicably tie him to Sasuke, his father and Fugaku have years and years of mutual understanding. He has no hope of untangling that mess and won't be bothered to try.
Minato's voice drops lower when he speaks next. He places his hand over Fugaku's and doesn't look away, doesn't waiver when he says: "I want his head, Fugaku."
Fugaku doesn't hesitate to reply with a serious, foreboding: "You'll have it." like it's the easiest thing in the world. "That's all that will be left, anway."
Minato chuckles into his hand, mindful of the noise since he still thinks Naruto is resting. His grin is positively predatory when he says: "I was hoping you'd say that."
...
He wakes again in the morning, surrounded.
Naruto yawns, jaw cracking in two places as he surveys the room:
Sasuke's half-slumped in a chair beside his bed, arms folded firmly across his chest. His brow is still furrowed, even in sleep. Neji rests on a propped fist on Naruto's other side, hair loose and falling in his face.
Choji's got the only other chair in the room—the only one smart enough to get a pillow so his neck won't have a painful crick when he wakes. Shikamaru's taken the cramped windowsill, long legs bunched up so his head can rest upon them. Kiba's sprawled out on the floor with a comically short blanket—he must have lost when everyone decided where their vigil would be for the night, from the looks of it.
Naruto chuckles at the sight, heart close to bursting. He stares at each one of them for far too long, committing everything about them to memory.
That's why he notices that Sasuke's knuckles are bruised and raw while Neji's got blood staining his collar that probably isn't his own. The others fair no better— clothes torn, lips split, hair disheveled like it's been pulled one too many times—but Naruto's too happy to see them to worry about that.
He'd truly thought he'd never get the chance again.
(It's so good to be wrong, sometimes.)
Neji stirs first; waking slowly then all at once when he realizes that Naruto's awake. The other man breathes deeply like he hasn't done it in days, lips quivering around an almost dreamy sigh. They stare at each other for eons—until Neji smiles brilliantly, gaze warm and alight. It's nearly too much for Naruto, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.
He manages to return the smile, reaching out to take Neji's offered hand. His voice doesn't want to come—too caught on poorly disguised sobs and whispered prayers. Somehow, he manages a shaky: "Hey."
"Hey," Neji whispers back, tenderly kissing the top of Naruto's hand. Naruto's sure that there's an embarrassing blush dusting his face, but he can't bring himself to care. " You know that you're not going anywhere without a ten-man detail from now on, right?"
Naruto snorts, careful not to disturb the others. "At least." He jokes back, before instantly sobering. Naruto can't help but duck his head, ashamed of himself.
"I'm sorry," He says earnestly, looking deeply into Neji's eyes. He can understand if his friend is furious with him and wants to call him a reckless idiot because he definitely is. Naruto's fully prepared to sit here quietly and take a lecture or two, a proper dressing down because he deserves it. "I fucked up."
But Neji just shakes his head. He released Naruto's hand to cup his cheek and Naruto shamelessly leans into it. "You don't have to apologize," He says softly, carefully petting his scars. "I'm just glad you're here. When you didn't call, I—"
Neji pauses, looking away and swallowing down a lump in his throat. Naruto can see the fear in his eyes—a black, numbing, static-filled fear that finishes his sentence where he can't. Naruto understands without him saying more. He knows what the other man thought, what they all thought, what he was so sure of himself just a few short hours ago—and that's why Sasuke fought until he hurt himself, why Neji allowed himself to be dirtied when he usually hates such things.
"I know," Naruto says around a sigh. He can't beg their forgiveness enough. It's impossible to promise that he'll never be stupid again, but at least he'll won't be pulling anything like this anytime soon. "I'm really—" He begins again, but he gets distracted by Sasuke slowly waking beside him.
Sasuke blinks drowsily, waking in slow degrees. There's a sweetly confused look on his face; It's the same one he always gets when he hasn't gotten enough sleep. Naruto smiles at the sight of it.
"Hey." He says, smiling wider when Sasuke's gaze snaps to him.
Sasuke's inhale is audible when he meets Naruto's eyes, sitting up and leaning forward in one quick motion. He doesn't seem to breathe for a moment, just staring forward like he can't believe what he's seeing—first he looks incredibly vulnerable, then his gaze transforming into something unbelievably warm. Then, his eyes narrow sharply and his mouth twists angrily.
"I'm going to kill you," He hisses, crossing his arms.
Naruto shouldn't find that funny, but he does. He bites down loud laughter as Neji sucks his teeth.
"Sasuke," Neji chides, even though the side of his mouth ticks up like he's smothering a smile. "Don't be like that."
"It's okay, Neji," Naruto says, chortling. "You guys have the right to be pissed."
Sasuke grunts, looking away from him in an attempt to stay angry. He has to struggle with himself not to say something rude even as all the tension in his body recedes, obviously relieved and overjoyed that Naruto's within arms reach again.
"I'm not angry," He mumbles. Both Neji and Naruto raise a disbelieving eyebrow so he quickly amends. "Alright, I am, but I'm willing to let it go since you already look like that."
Naruto scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Are you trying to say I look like shit?" He asks sarcastically, even though he already knows the answer. "Gee, thanks."
They all share a smile at that, falling quiet for a long while. Neji keeps looking at him like there's nothing else in the world more interesting. Sasuke can't take his eyes off Naruto's cast, then his bandages, then they subtlety trace up to Naruto's cheeks before he quickly looks back down again; his gaze filled with something like guilt and discomfort even though he shouldn't blame himself for any of it.
Naruto knows that he can't say anything that will convince him otherwise. He knows this, that's why he bites his lip and desperately thinks of something he can say while the silence stretches on further.
He revists all he wanted to say to them while he was captured. But of course, because he is the way he is, none of those words want to spring forth now. Typical.
He fidgets, unsure how to proceed. He looks to both of them underneath his lashes but chickens out as soon as he opens his mouth.
"What's wrong?" Sasuke asks, noticing his unease. Neji looks up from his own quiet musings, squeezing Naruto's hand to encourage him to speak.
Naruto sighs, closing his eyes tight so he won't lose his nerve. "I, look, guys—"
"No," Sasuke says firmly. Naruto snaps his eyes open in question as Sasuke shakes his head. "No heartfelt confessions until after you've recovered. You'll blame it on the pain meds otherwise." He says it lightly, but Naruto can tell that he's serious about it, if not nervous.
Neji looks just as apprehensive; he looks between them, face guarded, waiting for the other shoe to drop. They probably expect him to say something devastating, to deny them again and reiterate how he plans to split as soon as he can stand up straight.
Naruto chuckles despite himself, feeling oddly bashful since Sasuke knows what was going through his head without having to ask. Of course he does; these are his best friends, his brothers, the people who love him and who he loves in return. They mean the world to him. Always have, always will. It took nearly dying to face his feelings, because he's dramatic and ridiculous like that, but at least he's ready.
He was drowning in that love before—so young and confused, so desperate and searching.
But now—now, he thinks he can count on their arms to hold him afloat until he learns how to swim on his own.
"Maybe this is the morphine talking," Naruto jokes, ducking his head to hide a nervous smile. It doesn't work well, but he tries anyway. "And, don't get me wrong: I was completely serious when I said we all have a lot of shit to work on first—but I can't pretend anymore." Naruto pauses, running his tongue across his teeth as he swallows down his embarrassment.
You know what? Fuck it. He's going for it. Mama ain't raise no bitch.
"If you guys are okay with it, we might be able to...make this work? You know, with the three of us?"
He hazards a look up—first to Sasuke, then to Neji, finding them both blinking dumbly at his declaration.
Sasuke recovers first; he smirks in victory, even though his eyes are shining and Naruto doesn't think he imagines the excited shiver that passes over him. Neji smiles wide, barely able to contain himself. He squeezes Naruto's hand tighter still, voice caught around some whispered prayer.
"Okay," Neji says simply, pressing a gentle kiss to Naruto's temple. Naruto sighs into it, struggling to hook his pinky (on the bum hand) around Sasuke's because he wants to hold his hand, too. Sasuke huffs at him, rolling his eyes, but he's still looking at him with all the love in the world.
"You guys are definitely going to have to work through your incredibly unhealthy rivalry, though." Naruto says bluntly after a moment. There's no point in not calling it like it is. "Hate sex is all well and good, but it'll get old after a while, you know?"
Neji and Sasuke share a look—something ancient passed between them, the clink of shackles loosening so they can finally wiggle their wrists free.
"Fair enough." Sasuke says carefully, tipping his head to Neji in acknowledgment. Neji nods, slow to take his eyes off Sasuke before turning back to Naruto.
"We'll work on it." Neji replies easily. Oh please, like anything about this will be easy. Still, Naruto can't sit here and pretend like he's not up for the challenge.
He would take this time to revel in his victory, to ceaselessly wonder what's going to happen from now on, how this is all going to play out, for better or worse—but his garbage, forgetful mind decides to clue him in on something he so conveniently forgot:
They aren't alone in the room.
He hasn't paid attention to the others in a while, hasn't checked to make sure that were were still asleep. How could they be? It's not like the three of them made any effort to keep their voices down. He definitely should have waited for privacy before having such a conversation. It's not like any of this is a secret to them, but Naruto wasn't so keen on them hearing the gritty details! Dammit!
He flinches, looking around—first to Shikamaru, who hasn't moved from his spot at the window. The other man's eyes are still closed, but Naruto groans once he sees that Shikamaru's hiding a grin behind the fold of his arms.
"Oh, god." Naruto moans, covering his face with his hand in red-hot embarrassment. He's never going to hear the end of this. Shikamaru sniggers, forgoing his ruse, smiling bright as he shrugs and uncurls himself off of the ledge.
"Please," He says around a chuckle, a playful melody chasing his tone. "Go on. Just pretend I'm not here."
Kiba sits up with a wide yawn, shaking off his sleep. He blinks and stretches before taking one look at the three of them huddle together—Neji's hand still wrapped around Naruto's, Sasuke pinky still tightly looped around his— before rolling his eyes and muttering a mocking: "Ugh, gay." even though his eyes are full of love.
Choji scoffs, forgetting about pretending to be asleep, too. He violently throws his pillow at Kiba's face before flicking him off. "You asshole!" He grunts. "They were having a nice moment!"
Naruto should feel mortified. He should want to hide in the corner or sink into the floor. He should, but he throws his head back and laughs right along with his friends, too moved by their easy support to care.
Eyes glittering like the night sky, he feels….loved.
C.
Naruto allows his mother to fawn over him as she sees fit; stuffing him with food and treats. He probably gains ten pounds from being bedridden and force-fed ice cream.
It takes a while to get a moment alone— his days are filled with plenty of visits from his friends who downright spoil him. They bring him whatever he asks for and sit with him until he can't keep his eyes open anymore. Tsunade nearly beats them off with a stick, angrily demanding they give him time to rest.
Naruto has to convince Fugaku to allow Haku to visit, begging for someone to send word to Gaara and Zabuza that he's alive as well. Sasuke begrudgingly agrees to do so, thankfully not asking why he's on such good terms with a Shukaku just yet. He's too much of a busy-body to hold off much longer, though.
"This isn't a time for strangers," Fugaku says sternly, wary of having anyone outside of the clan around at this delicate time."This is a time for family."
All Naruto has to do is pretend like he's going to cry about it and the old man folds like a lawn chair. An underhanded tactic, but it yields good results. Minato chuckles knowingly but doesn't comment.
Haku bursts into tears the moment he arrives, crying into the sheets as Naruto awkwardly pats his shoulder. He sputters out tearful apologies but Naruto assures him that none of this is his fault. Haku looks like he hasn't slept in days so Naruto offers that they nap together. That's the height of friendship, if you ask him. Haku agrees, sniffling and smiling brightly at his suggestion. He's out like a light in mere moments—clearly running on fumes, his joy at finding Naruto alive and uh, almost well is enough to finally allow him some rest.
"Who's this?" Kiba asks sometime later, finding Haku still huddled on the bed, Naruto resting on his shoulder. "Your girlfriend?"
Sasuke and Neji give him a withering look that could peel paint, so he wisely shuts up.
When it's just him and his parents in the room together, Kushina cries for a long time. The toughest person he knows reduced to a blubbering mess like this only makes him cry right along with her. Minato gets choked up himself, alternating between patting Naruto's head and rubbing Kushina's back.
He knows that she's crying for more than just him; Their home is gone, lost to a blaze set by the enemy. If not for Asuma and the others, she would have lost him in the same manner. He cannot fathom her anger, her sorrow, her fear. That house his father built—the walls lined and corners filled with all that makes them Uzumaki. He doesn't know how it feels to stand in front of your whole life as it crumbles to dust.
All she loves,
left to crackle and burn.
She tells him that she managed to save the family crest from their mantel before she feld. That's all she could grab in her haste. That, and his baby blanket. He doesn't fully understand why she'd go for that over anything else, but her eyes are serious when she says: "If you weren't coming back, I was going to keep something that smelled like you."
He doesn't have a reply for that, but it's not like she expected one.
Itachi visits him long after his parents depart. He's been mysteriously absent over the last few days and Naruto tried not to feel sore about that. The older man hesitates at the door, taking a deep breath before making his way inside. He sits on the edge of the bed quietly, eyes distant and searching.
Naruto blinks up at him, unaware he'd fallen back asleep. He smiles in greeting but Itachi's face doesn't change.
"I didn't mean to wake you," He says softly, fingers curling on the sheets. "I can wait if you still want to rest."
"It's okay." Naruto replies. He can't help but frown at the lines that pull on Itachi's face, at the exhaustion that colors his words.
"It's not," Itachi says sharply. Naruto instantly knows that he's not talking about disturbing him anymore.
There's a charged pause before Itachi's shaking his head and looking away: "This is the second time I've seen you like this. I don't like it."
"I know," Naruto sighs, black guilt climbing up his throat. "I'm sorry. You can yell at me if you want."
"I don't want to yell at you. I probably should, but—" Itachi sighs heavily, grabbing Naruto's chin so he can't look away. He looks at him with the same eyes he used to, so much so that Naruto's heart cliches uncomfortably. "I want you to just...let us look out for you, for once. This was stupid and uncalled for."
Itachi's not wrong to feel this way. Everyone knows that Naruto's incredibly dense, but he's also always had a problem with being protected. It felt like they saw him as weak or less capable for standing in front of him instead of by his side. He's slowly starting to realize that's not the case. He's... cherished, to put it simply. There's something strange and hopeful in that, no matter how long it's been.
There's sadness and uncharacteristic tendrils of fear in Itachi's voice when he says next: "This cannot happen again. Next time, you might not be so lucky."
He also sounds frustrated beyond belief, that's why Naruto finds himself nodding dutifully. "It won't happen again. I swear it."
An easy promise to make when they don't know what tomorrow will bring. Itachi knows that he can't assure that, but he nods all the same.
They fall into a comfortable silence. Or, Itachi does, because Naruto hates long stretches of quiet but you know that already.
Finally, after ages, Itachi says carefully: "They took Orochimaru into custody." like he was hesitant to share the news at all.
Naruto startles at that, blinking rapidly because: "What?"
That's a new one. The cops have never tried arresting one of the gang leaders because it's bound to end badly. It's not worth risking horse heads in beds and walls lined with bullet holes, if you know what I mean.
"It's a stop-gap measure, if you can even call it that." Itachi continues, rolling his eyes in obvious disapproval. "They think it will calm things since it's been utter chaos for the last week. They don't have enough to hold him since the victims are too scared to talk so he'll be free in no time."
"Why, then?" Naruto asks. Why waste the time if everyone knows that he'll be right back to haunt these streets?
"It's not without purpose; Orochimaru's men are laying low until he's free, in case this is more serious than they think." Itachi grins then, showing teeth, a smug look in his gaze when he speaks next. "That, and we've thinned their ranks considerably. This will give you time to recover and time to plan for the next steps."
"Next steps?" Naruto echoes curiously. He figures the next steps will be more shootouts and bloody beatdowns. The look on Itachi's face tells him that he's not exactly wrong.
"Did you think this would end just because we got you back?" Itachi asks lowly, something dangerous creeping behind his tone like a shadow. "No, if anything, your retrieval has only spurred this on. We'll have to go to the other clans with this since the fighting won't be contained to just this side of town."
He can't mean—
"Yes, we're past the point of no return," Itachi says solemnly, reading his thoughts.
There hasn't been a gathering of the Families in over a decade. Something like this is...serious, unprecedented. That means that Itachi's planning for full-blown eradication—they'll either ask the other clans to help out or stay the hell out of the way, to turn blind eyes to the fire and the flame or jump headfirst into it.
Naruto can't decide if he's excited or horrified at the thought. He'll get back to you on that one.
"I doubt Darui will agree to either so easily," Naruto murmurs carefully, watching Itachi from beneath his lashes. "How do you plan to convince him?"
"We must find something to offer or he'll find something to take." Itachi says like that's not incredibly fucking ominous. "I'll figure something out, so don't worry about it. I only want you to focus on recovering. I need you in good shape for what's to come."
Hold up, wait a damn minute, here. Naruto has some feelings about what he's implying, but he doesn't get a chance to voice his protest before Itachi's speaking again.
"I'm not asking, Naruto. You're entangled in this just as much as we are." Itachi says frostily. Naruto can't help but sit up straighter in his bed at full attention, sirens of warning blaring in his head. "Afterwards, if you still want to leave, I won't stop you. I'll make sure the others don't interfere as well."
"Itachi—" Naruto begins, vigorously shaking his head in denial. He's know it won't work. He knows this, but he's going to try anyway. Stubborn as he is, he's going to try anyway.
"This will be the last time I require this of you." Itachi murmurs, something almost pleading in his voice. That's why Naruto shuts his mouth and lets him talk. "One last time, until blood has been repaid in blood. Can you do that for me? Weak men have no place here, so I need a serious answer."
As much as Naruto wishes to deny him and run for the hills, he can't. He can't, because his mother's house sits smoldering where it once stood. He can't, because he himself lays here half-broken and bloodied by the same clan who wiped out his family—who wiped out the Hyuga, the Umino, and countless others—who ruined this town until it's a shell of its former self.
Can he really stand aside when this could be the end? Not a way to peace, because there will never truly be peace in Konoha. But an end, because Itachi's fully planning to put Orochimaru down and take all his little goons along with him.
Even his father has agreed to see this through—because after so much loss, so much carnage, it's owed to him. To them. To the people who are gone and to the people who endured.
Naruto can't pretend he doesn't covet that, doesn't crave that with his whole being. As sick as it sounds, that's what he wants most in this world.
If he has to pick up the mantel once more—if he has to be Uzumaki, to be Uchiha— one last time, he thinks he can live with that. He can finally close this chapter of his story and sleep better at night.
Even when he was gone, such thoughts still haunted his dreams.
(Hizashi's last smile as he caught sight of his son, Obito's dead eyes as he hung by his neck, the circle of coffins—emblazoned with spirals, his mother's tears staining the wood—)
Running won't help. It won't give him any peace of mind if he walks away again. He has to do this—even though it will disappoint Haku, even though going down this road has many twists and turns—He has to, so that's that.
"You know, it's kinda hot when you talk like that." Naruto says casually, winking at him. Itachi's startled enough by the sudden shift in mood that he actually laughs: a familiar twinkle in his eye that he gets whenever he thinks Naruto's being both ridiculous and a delight. Naruto grins fiercely in victory over effectively breaking Itachi's stone face.
"But all jokes aside," Naruto mutters, sobering. He's looking down to his lap when he says: "Okay." in confirmation. Itachi breathes deeply—not quite a sigh of relief, but close. "But I'm going to be more of a witness than anything. I'll stay, I'll rough a few people up if you need me to, but when it comes to any final blows…"
He trails off, hoping that Itachi understands that he doesn't want to kill anyone without having to expressly state it. He's not a coward—he could easily do it, he just... doesn't want to. Hopefully, that's as good an answer as any.
Itachi nods solemnly, taking his hand very, very gently and giving him a supportive squeeze. "I know. I'm not asking for you to go that far."
Oh, thank God, Naruto thinks.
Then quieter, Itachi says—as if some strange spirit of honesty possesses him :"It...doesn't feel the same when you aren't there. It hasn't for a long while. We have to do this right, if it's truly the last time."
Naruto nods, fully understanding the sentiment. Fugaku did tell them that they would get it one day—back to back, eyes glittering gold, blood on their faces and on their fists.
(His back has been unguarded for some time now. He does...miss the feeling, if he's honest. He can run, he can hide, but the night air still causes a chill down his spine. Still calls his name even when he swore he wasn't listening.)
"Do you still have any of my jackets?" Naruto asks quietly. He almost hopes that Itachi will say no: the boy that took them off will not be the same man who puts them back on. Is he still worthy to wear one?
Itachi seems to think so; he smiles warmly, something beautiful in his eyes that Naruto pretends he doesn't see. He's already too caught up in the emotion of it all and he can't afford to fall further.
"Of course," Itachi replies easily. Oh please, like anything about this will be easy. "We might have to get it taken out a little, though." He jokes, patting Naruto's stomach. His mother really held to her word about beefing him up, he guesses.
"Oh, fuck you." Naruto says, but he's laughing all the same.
…
It's chaos, after.
That's the only way to describe it.
