The moment where the music rises.
Konoha, 12th March
Year of the Hare

Somewhere, deep in the woods where things became forgotten and knowledge dissolved into myth, a creature stirred into wakefulness. It was the sunshine that did it. Daylight hadn't bothered the creature much before, but it had moved in its slumber - rolling and fidgeting as its synapses began to register its limbs, skin and internal organs. As it began to realize it was alive. It had inched out of it's earthen cocoon and lay curled at the opening, toes curled in the mud. Sunshine had broke through the forest bracken, weak and filtered and it painted the creature's face in meagre stripes. It wasn't much, but it was enough brightness to be annoying. It blinked.

Eyelids. It had eyelids. It had forgotten what they were, but it seemed obvious when it opened then in order to see. Eyelids. Eyelids and… and eyebrows. Yes. Those were the things that were frowning at the light, helping it squint so that it could peer through the glare, past the low-lying forest brush to the woods beyond. It was squinting, cheeks tensing in the cold. It shivered, then let out a chuff of surprise as the follicles on its body seized in a scattering sensation across its skin, hair prickling all over. Momentarily, it calmed and let out a breath. That was a normal thing, wasn't it? That reaction. What did they call it? Goose pimples? Gooseflesh? Goosebumps? There were a lot of names for them. It didn't really know why. It didn't know why it remembered what it was.

It hung on the feeling for a second longer, then sniffed at the air. It blinked away tears as the cold assailed its nose and the tang of wet moss and earth, teamed with a pungent undertone of various fungi, almost overwhelmed its senses. The creature snorted, then scrunched its nose a few times, drawing in a slow, deep breath - filling its lungs with scented air. It felt the rush of oxygen permeate its body, then, slowly it started to move.

It was alive. It understood that concept now. Before it had thought (perhaps not so coherently) that everything it had experienced might be a part of its subconscious and that it was constantly on the verge of dream. A dream before death perhaps, or maybe death was entirely made of dreams. But this? This didn't… feel like a dream. It didn't know why, but dreams kind of gave the impression that the might be airy. Formless. Light on sensation and complexity. Here, the ground was wet against its belly, the air was a kind of piercing cold that commanded wakefulness and the cacophony of scents around it was tantalisingly variegated. The oxygen it drew into its lungs filtered through its body, strengthening it, adding fuel to its muscles. And it understood. It was alive. It was awake. How it came to be and where it was from was still a complete mystery, though, as was the name that sat so prominently in its thoughts; a memory of someone or something.

"Ssssa…...sasuke," the creature said. Tested. Then it frowned. Sasuke. What was a Sasuke? What it something to find? Was it something to eat? Was it someone it knew or something it owned? It wasn't even all that sure why that word was the only detail that had stuck when it…. Became whatever it was. When it had first awoken, it was simply a mass of sensation and feeling, but now those instincts were taking form and becoming thoughts and expressions. It was currently experiencing perplexity, and that was altogether a difficult emotion as it wasn't certain why it was confused or what it was meant to be confused about in the first place. After a moment of tenuous silence, it jumped, finding that it had stuck its fingers in its hair and was scratching at its own head in consternation. Had it done that before? It felt like it had, only it didn't remember. It didn't even have words for its head or its hair, they just… materialized into its head. As though it knew them before; as thought things were starting to slide back into place - memories falling back into their given slots. It dragged its fingers through its hair one last time, then moved the hand under its nose for inspection. It found that its skin was warm and sun-browned. It had long, dirt-crusted nails. The fingers looked strong. So did the feet, it noticed, when it looked down; they were strong too. The body was tall - but not too tall - tanned and rippling with lithe muscle. It felt power flowing through it. Power, but no purpose just yet. It wasn't sure what it was meant to be doing just yet.

There had to be something though. It had to exist for a reason. It had begun to understand what questions were and had tasted the satisfaction of answers. It knew that it had to seek more, look further. It knew to want. And in order to do so, it would need to move. It sucked in a breath and curled its toes in the mud. It was standing, therefore it had obviously figured out a thing called balance, but locomotion was a different story. Testing its feet a few times, it started walking. It was slow and wobbly at first but after a few steps it had gotten the knack. It had done this before, it knew that. The evidence was in the body, in the muscles. It felt like it could walk for days on the strong… things… legs… beneath it. For the time being it walked without direction, rather it followed something of an innate navigational system that was currently honed on finding food. Consciousness required fuel, and its body was eagerly, painfully aware of the fact that it hadn't been provided with any sustenance for quite some time. The stomach clenched and growled and the creature let out a hiss of suspicion, before groaning in sympathy at the plight of its empty belly.

Food. It needed food. It needed to eat. Then, when it was satisfied, it would find Purpose. It would find Sasuke and whatever Sasuke meant to it. The creature nodded to itself, content with its plan and fully aware of what it needed to do.

It would soon learn, however, that with knowledge, fuel and Purpose it would probably also need some pants.

The light clinking of cups alerted Sasuke to the fact that he'd nodded off on the couch and he blinked a few times, trying to rouse his senses in order to sit up. Mikoto was hugged against his chest, warm, heavy and drooling, and he could feel the swish of Akamaru's heavy tail on the floor by his feet. Everyone had taken a nap, it seemed. Everyone aside from Chouji, who offered him a placid nod as he quietly placed a small, pottery teaset on the coffee table. Sasuke stifled a yawn, trying hard not to appear as chagrined as he felt.

"What time is it?" he asked, shifting his daughter from one shoulder to another. Chouji set down the teapot and began arranging the cups with silent precision.

"Just past three," he whispered. "You all started dozing off after lunch. Seemed like you needed it."

Sasuke drew in a breath, tasting the fragrant perfume of jasmine on the back of his palate. A floral tea. Interesting choice. Good for the digestion, he's been told, though he felt he didn't really need to repeat the fact to someone like Chouji, who probably knew everything about the tea he was serving, down to the origin of the teacups he was pouring into. He sat up a little, noting, with little surprise, the slumped figures of his caregivers around him. Tsunade was draped on the seat adjacent - artlessly arranged on the cushions. Akamaru was snoring on the floor and Shikamaru had managed to withdraw to the sliding door next to the balcony, where he rested with his head propped up on one hand, dozing in the thin afternoon sunlight. Dropping off… like cats near a stoked fire. Sasuke snorted and stretched, wondering if Chouji had slept as well. He hadn't, of course. Further inspection presented a spotless kitchen - almost cleaned to the point of torture, and a loaf of warm, sweet bread sighing on the counter next to a few bulging packages of preserves, dried goods and leftovers. Sasuke's brows raised impossibly more.

"Did you actually eat?" He asked, oblivious to the idea that such a question was rarely asked of an Akimichi but Chouji just shrugged.

"Yeah," he said, waving his hand over the steaming teapot. "A little. I don't really get that hungry when I'm working though, so…" He shrugged. When he offered no further comment (something Sasuke found he greatly appreciated - he'd forgotten that not all the Nine were as verbose as Ino, Sakura or Naruto), Sasuke let him work, watching with guarded fascination as Chouji gauged, tested, then finally and with a delicateness seemingly unattainable in his large, blunt fingers, poured the brew. It was a deep olive in colour and smelled divine. Sasuke took the cup that was offered to him and breathed in the scent of the tea with slow relish.

He hadn't noticed earlier, but Chouji wasn't wearing the usual red jacket and plate armor that was normally associated with the Akimichi. Instead he'd arrived in a grey tank top and dark pants that hung to mid calf, emblazoned with some popular civilian band or catch-phrase or something. His hair was gathered into a messy topknot that hung off the back of his crown and he sported what appeared to be the beginnings of some carefully maintained stubble colouring the edge of his jaw and chin. Sasuke was almost surprised to find how much Chouji had changed; the more he looked, the older the other boy seemed. He was no longer the awkward fat kid the academy bullies had found such investment in torturing; he'd finally grown into his grand size. His skin had cleared and the lumbering awkwardness he used to exhibit no longer seemed to plague him. In place of that poor, teased boy was a young man who seemed to exude a quiet, but enormous sense of value. Sasuke found that he was reminded of Juugo: someone exceedingly powerful, yet outwardly humble of his abilities.

His eyes travelled up Chouji's strong, thick arms to his wide shoulders. The man was built like a bear and probably twice as strong. Tattoos of scarlet spiralled up from the collar of his tank top to his nape, matching the same pattern as those on his cheeks. His eyes, Sasuke observed, were a rather fetching amber. He had to admit, he'd never noticed before.

"So cooking's your thing now?"

Had Chouji been less polite, he would have arched a brow and responded with something automatic like: what kind of question is that? Instead, he merely shrugged a little, before picking up his own cup.

"I guess."

"Still training?"

"Yeah. I split my day. Study and practice in the morning, training in the afternoon. At the moment, I have some examinations though, so I'm off the training and missions for now."

"Hn," Sasuke grunted, forgetting how disappointed his nonverbal reciprocation could often sound. "So… what kind of cooking? Do you specialize, or…"

Chouji offered him a gentle smile that was almost sympathetic. "It's ok," he said kindly. "You don't need to pretend to be interested."

"I'm not-" Sasuke began, though he could feel his cheeks pinkening. It wasn't that he didn't care, he just couldn't think of putting anything else above a career as a Shinobi. Even if it might be something he would have to face himself, eventually. He'd known there was a possibility; he'd worried about the long term effects of his forced civillianship until he'd worn down the thought to the quick, but it was still there. He wasn't ready to face it yet, was all. "I was just-" making conversation? You don't do small talk; never have. "-curious."

"Oh," Chouji said before sitting back on his haunches, turning the delicate cup in his large hands. "Well. I've already passed the generic levels that cover preparation, cooking and serving and all of the related skills. What we Akimichi really specialize in is specific nutrition and medical partnerships with other clans - like the Nara or the Yamanaka."

Now that was interesting. Sasuke sipped his tea, taking note of the full-bodied flavor and the absolute perfect temperature at which Chouji had presented it, and nodded. "So that's what you're doing now?"

"Mmm, finishing."

"And what's after that?"

"We continue our studies that focus on various branches of the community. We can specialize in dietetics through a lot of different fields: Shinobi-centric; where all kinds of innovations in nutrition are being made. Community. Medical. Commercial…"

"You found anywhere to focus yet?"

"Well, I'm more… uh…" Chouji blushed a little. "I like the idea of… sharing and… and making meals for other people, so I guess um… I'd prefer to look toward commercial cookery or community-focused projects. I really enjoyed the module on pediatrics too. There's a lot of cool stuff that goes on between a kid and its mother that goes all the way down to genetics. It's pretty amazing."

Sasuke blinked. "You mean… What?"

"Well, for example," Chouji motioned to Mikoto. "It's kind of obvious that you've been taking proper care of your daughter up until you got here. She's way too robust to have just been benefitting from a coupla weeks of good food - she's been treated right since she was born. Good head of thick hair; good skin; bright eyes. I'll bet if you looked at her nails, there's be no white spots or stunting of any kind."

"I-." Sasuke glanced down at his girl who made a burbling noise around her thumb. "-I did what… I mean. This body has… Ways to provide so… I used them. That's all."

Chouji just offered him a faint smile. "You helped her build immunities by doing that. Made her tough against illness. Your body was helping hers. It remembers her from her time inside you. It helps you keep her safe. Like passing chakra, but better than that. I don't think many people would have thought to do what you did."

"There aren't that many people in my position," Sasuke corrected him, quietly. "It's not that mind blowing. I did what I had to."

Chouji poured more tea. "Start looking up some of the ancient clan practises and you'd be surprised. Eugenics is a scary thing, but some clans were really into it. I've read papers on some ancient cultures who used to do the same thing - used to think that they had a type of chakra that could be bred and cultivated through lineage. It's all pretty hardcore."

"Yeah well. It is and it isn't." Sasuke closed his eyes. "Might read as hardcore. Doesn't feel like it."

"I didn't mean-" Chouji flushed. He looked mortified. "S-sorry."

"You didn't know." Sasuke replied. If his response sounded sullen, his upset wasn't directed at his guest. They sat in silence for a little while, tense, unsure before there was a sudden knock at the door. Sharp. The entire lounge suddenly perked to attention. Sasuke was surprised (and pleased) to note that Shikamaru had already slipped a discreet shuriken between his fingers. Then Akamaru thumped his tail against the floor and yawned.

"Is flower girl."

"Ino," Shikamaru let out a breath and nodded to Chouji, who graciously answered the door. Ino shuffled in - a strange amorphous shape comprised mostly of an oversized powder blue poncho and a large spray of flurry white chrysanthemums. She grinned around it, kicking off her winter boots before she entered the lounge.

"Plan's working great!" She announced, placing the blooms on the counter before marvelling at Chouji's work. "Wow, you've been busy, Cho!"

"It's just a meal and some extras," Chouji replied modestly. He poured some tea for her and held out a cup as she moved into the lounge, kneeling beside her team mate. Sasuke frowned.

"Plan?"

"The… plan. The Henge Initiative," Ino said, grinning at Mikoto, who just burbled and turned in her sleep. "You know."

"I don't." Sasuke glanced at the others. Tsunade raised her brows but the boys looked sheepish.

"We were getting around to mentioning it. Though we'd… uh…" Shikamaru looked over at the shogi table and shrugged. "Got distracted, I guess. I wanted to give it a little time until I'd mention it."

"What have you done?" Tsunade asked, in cement tones. Shikamaru held up his hands.

"Nothing bad! It's actually kind of a good plan, which, you know, is surprising coming from Naruto but-"

"Naruto's plan?" Now Sasuke was fully invested. He leaned forward as much as Mikoto would allow, his dark eyes eager. "Plan for what?"

"Keeping you out of the spotlight," Shikamaru said, motioning to the paper on the table. "Making sure to keep reporters and suchlike away from your door. It's only a matter of time before they figure out you're staying here. Naruto thought that by giving them a false trail, they'd be too preoccupied with his decoys to focus on the finding the original."

"You look different," Ino added. "O-of course. But you don't look that different. Not if the reporters are really searching. He… He thought it would help."

"Decoys," Sasuke mulled on this a moment. "You mean, he's dressed like me?"

"He's kind of a master at Henge. Well, Kage Bunshin. He can make sure the decoys never linger in one place too long or ever form a trail. And he can take note of which reporters tend to watch him more than the others. That way we know who to look for."

"That's very helpful," Tsunade said, watching Sasuke carefully. "Thoughtful. Does Kakashi know you're doing this?"

"We ran the idea by him this morning." Shikamaru replied. "He was happy for us to start immediately. Said it was a good way to keep people talking about something, rather than have them looking for gossip."

"I'd rather they weren't talking about me at all. Even a fake me." Sasuke said, quietly, though he understood the benefit of such a tactic. People wouldn't be looking for a woman. They wouldn't be looking for a baby girl. They'd be looking for a Sasuke who looked like Sasuke and possibly a child who… well, he was sure Naruto's imagination was good enough to cover that. No one would expect any of the nine to be visiting him either - he'd never appeared to have friends, so Shikamaru, Chouji and Ino's appearances on this side of town weren't really all that suspicious. But of course, his main concern wasn't for the interest in Konoha, but for those outside. Those who might be waiting for any opportunity to get close. What could Caliga do with a clone? What if he caught the real one? Naruto was strong but… but he didn't know how efficient the foreigner could be - didn't know if that weird type of henge was the only trick he had up his sleeve. They never mentioned chakra, and yet Caliga could change his guise just as well as any practiced Shinobi, so what else could he do? Sasuke swallowed. "Tell… Naruto….Tell him… Keep him… in the village. I wasn't… I wouldn't go wandering about the forests outside the wall. No point. Training grounds were better. Or near the library and scroll merchants."

Shikamaru blinked. "Oh… sure. Okay, we'll let him know."

The others nodded in unison. Had Sasuke looked closer, he would have seen them smile ever so slightly. Then Chouij offered Ino some roasted vegetables and the mood lightened again. They rested. Shikamaru and Sasuke took in a game of chess while Tsunade and Ino played with Mikoto, watching her wiggle about on the ground on her stomach. Apparently, she was close to crawling. Sasuke didn't seem particularly inspired by the idea. Tsunade figured it was more to do with his daughter gaining mobility while his became more restricted than anything else, but she held her tongue. Sasuke tended to forget that he had other willing to help him - even when they were right under his nose.

Tired, but cheerful and well-fed, the group left a few hours later, leaving Sasuke alone in the apartment save for a dog on the floor and woman snoring on the couch, her logbook she was supposed to be studying covering her face. Evening was beginning to spread its orange cloak over the sky and the temperature was dropping as the heat bled out of the day. The sky was clear, faceted with stars and the air was biting, but Sasuke enjoyed the cold. It made him feel alive. Made him feel sharp, the way he used to feel when he was balanced in some tree, kunai in his hand, target hidden close by, waiting for him. He couldn't do that now, couldn't be that Sasuke now, but he could feel a little relieved with the nine watching his back. With his house guests. With Mikoto making soft noises to herself in her cot; chattering away in her own tongue. With his son curled inside him, heavy and grounding. Caliga could be out there, and Sasuke knew he'd never feel entirely safe, not with the man being so unexpected - not with his mysterious clan and his untraceable power. But he could try to trust the others. And he could allow himself a little relief. Maybe just for a while. Maybe just a little.

Kakashi started back at the pixelated face before him, trying desperately not to squint as the brightness of the screen hacksawed at the film of his eyeballs. He stood as straight as he could, attempting to adopt a stance that was somewhere between casual and respectful and failing at both. He cleared his throat, but the screen beat him to the punch.

"I think," Ohnoki said in measured tones. "You have something to tell me, don't you, Kakashi?"

The old man was sitting cross-legged before the commlink unit, hands linked before him with his forearms resting on his thighs. He was wearing his traditional green, gold and crimson split coat of office, but rather than his tactical gear beneath, he wore an elegant kimono in a deep forest green. He appeared to be alone in the room, but Kakashi knew better than to assume he had total confidentiality. The Rokudaime nodded.

"I do."

"It's about Uchiha Sasuke isn't it?" Ohnoki continued. "The kid who disrupted the Kage Summit a while back."

"Two years, give or take." Kakashi said. "You almost disintegrated him, right?"

"If it wasn't for that other guy, I would have." Ohnoki said, frowning impossibly harder. "He appeared to be in league with that war-monger at the time, but it seems that wasn't the case."

"No, I don't think so." Kakashi shook his head. "I can't say for sure. At that time, I might have thought he had. But things turned out very differently. You understand that without his help-"

"I know, I know. It's been addressed. We wrote it all down," Ohnoki waved a hand, dismissively. "It's in the history books or computer files or whatever it is they're calling them these days. But we'd also thought he'd disappeared. Possibly destroyed in some final aggregation with your jinchuuriki master. You never really specified, Hatake. I'm getting the feeling that was on purpose."

"It was… difficult." Kakashi swallowed. Then he relaxed a little. "Look, you know he's here," he admitted, tiredly. "And you know why I stalled in contacting you and A. Sorry. I know it wasn't… Hokage-y of me-"

"That's not a word."

"-but I never said that I was good at this."

"He's an international criminal, Kakashi," Ohnoki said, evenly. "And you're showing select treatment."

"No, that was supposed to be amended. He's still a missing nin. He became an S-class when a criminal instated that rank on his own. A criminal who had been well known to… meddle. One who encouraged warfare."

"Yeah I know. Wasn't that fond of him either."

"He had an agenda. He always had an agenda. The Third never really trusted him as far as I could tell-"

"I may have my own opinions on that, Kakashi, but you can't go putting words in people's mouths," Ohnoki warned. "Even dead people."

"No? But people do. And Shimura Danzo was one of them. He aspired to the Hokage seat from day one, that's common knowledge. He was thoroughly against the Uchiha-"

"Look," Ohnoki stroked his moustaches. "I didn't contact you for a history lesson. I know why you've been evading contact with me. I might be old, but I'm not senile. Not yet anyway." The small man sighed. "We've both lost prized students to the Akatsuki. Yours ultimately besting mine, though I must say, I don't doubt Deidara wasn't paving the path to his own destruction long ago - he had that kind of attitude. What I want to know is what you intend to do next."

"Are you-" Kakashi eyed the screen suspiciously. Hopefully, even. "Are you planning on supporting-"

"We have the liberty to investigate freely now," Ohnoki said. "Being an alliance, we have the benefit of trust from each other - something no hokage would have ever dreamed back in my day. If you have thought this Uchiha Sasuke was a threat, I believe you would have dealt with him - connection or no. Seems you don't feel that way. Seems you're more worried about what everyone else thinks."

"What do you expect? He's from the same clan as Madara and Obito, both of whom are responsible for the fourth war." Not entirely. Kakashi thought, but he held his tongue. Now was not the time for such a revelation. "As… far as we know," he finished. "Nothing is ever as simple as it seems."

"Aye," Ohnoki agreed. "Still, criminal or nukenin, your Uchiha was never pardoned properly. Which means, by law, he still needs to stand trial. And he'd really better. With that kind of power he was packing on the battlefield, and with his prior insult to A, his fate should really be something that is made privy to the public."

"You mean paraded."

"I'm trying to be fair, Rokudaime. Remember, I called you."

Kakashi sighed and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Sorry. Is A… does he know?"

"He knows," Ohnoki said. "He's not waiting for a call. He's on his way now."

"Shit-"

"I can head him off at the borders of Lightning country. Get him to slow down. Stay a night or two in Ame or something. I can." The old man leaned forward a little, scratching at his bulbous nose. "But I want to know why I'm doing it."

"Sasuke is… He's not well." Kakashi said, quietly. "He has returned to Konoha in a state that… it asks a lot of questions. And I want answers. And the only way I'm going to get answers is by gaining his trust and letting him speak in his own time."

"So it is preferential treatment-"

"No, you-" Kakashi caved and rubbed his temples. "It's not as simple as that-"

"If you need someone to interrogate him, I have many operatives." Ohnoki went on in attempt to be helpful. "I'm not really that surprised you're finding it difficult, but I can help if you need-"

"He was tortured, Tschikage-sama," Kakashi breathed. "Tortured. Horrifically. That may not be something to the veterans, but it's not about our experiences or our "stiff upper lips" or any of the bullshit we were fed as regular infantry. It's about the individual. It's about him. Sasuke was tortured in a time of peace by a faction I've never heard of. Never even known about - never even on my radar. I need to know more about them - who they are, what they are. But he's the only one who knows. He's our only point of information."

"Ever thought he could be making it up?" Ohnoki raised a brow. "Saving his own skin?"

"No. And when you see him, you'll know why." Kakashi said. "Besides, you've met him before. Might have been for a short time, but you got an idea for the type of man he is. He has persistence, Ohnoki. Resilience. Strength of will. Sasuke has been through a type of hell you wouldn't even consider gilding your worst curses with, but he survived. He protected others. And he's returned to us for help."

"Others…" Ohnoki pressed his lips together. "A child?"

"Two, actually." Kakashi said. "I don't think he hoped for forgiveness… perhaps sanctuary more than anything. But I want to give him a little more time. He won't leave. He won't run. But he needs time. A few more days. Can you give me that?"

"You sing his praises like you think you can carry a note," Ohnoki raised a snowy brow. "But all right. Fine. If you're putting that much stock in him… And if it's something that might affect our villages in turn…. I'll talk to A. It might not do any good, but I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," Kakashi closed his eyes. "I… I appreciate-"

"I don't trust him though. Watch yourself, Kakashi - I may not know the Uchiha, but I know a sense of self preservation when I see one. I certainly don't doubt the kid's probably messed up." Ohnoki sighed. "Just make sure you aren't taken down with him."

It was well past dusk by the time Naruto himself finally took to the streets, tugging at the collar of his shirt of which sported a height he was used to, but was a little too wide to be warm and let the cold air slip down his back in uncomfortable wafts. He'd never seen Sasuke wear anything under his standard blue, not even in winter. He probably did - a vest or thermals or some kind, maybe he managed some soft of scarf-no-jutsu that no one ever noticed - but Naruto hadn't seen it, therefore it couldn't be part of the costume. Then there were the shorts. Those damn shorts. Naruto had only ever really suffered from chilly ankles, but Sasuke had always worn something of an abridged outfit, and the shorts were, well… a lot shorter than the jinchuuriki was used to. His knees poked out like pale ice-caps from under the hem and itched with cold. And the bandages, he found, were more or less decoration than anything. They made things slightly warmer, but not by a hell of a lot. Of course, he'd considered the possibility of wearing one of Sasuke's later outfits - at least the kimono doo-dad had pants and long sleeves. But it also had no front and if Naruto's nipples weren't capable of possibly shredding steel at this point, relegating them to open air would make him a potential hazard to society.

He did not, however, consider the possibility of keeping Sasuke's face and simply adding to the costume. Naruto might have had some good ideas, but he was a purist at heart. Sasuke needed to look like Sasuke. And he didn't in anything other than his crest and his usual blue. Or that… purply-grey-y colour. Cold be damned.

Truth be told, he didn't mind. He liked the way he walked as Sasuke. His strides were long and confident. His shoulders were rolled back, chest high and open. It was automatic, blood deep. The Uchiha pride, even in a facsimile, was unextinguishable. As though it could simply spread through the air. There was something about the way that Sasuke's body was fashioned that just made him… well, glide. Drift. Like smoke. Like a true shinobi. Even the thick, long fringe that hung in his eyes didn't seem to get in the way; tickle his nose or obscure his vision. He moved confidently, though it was a struggle not to smile or pose when he noticed people staring. He was so used to the attention as himself; it was difficult to react as though he didn't care to be noticed. Watching out the corner of his eye, he found his targets. Noted the familiar signs of someone digging into their bag for a camera or notebook. Their stance as they tried to line up a shot. The spring of a shutter. He knew his clones had been snapped several times earlier that afternoon - there was bound to be something in the news about Sasuke hanging around the old Uchiha compound or the West Gate. Well away from where he was staying. Good. Mission accomplished for the day.

He changed back into himself after half an hour of traipsing back and forth through the shadows, and ducked down a few alleys before bounding onto the rooftops. Toeing the guttering, he blew on his hands and sprung away across the village, heading back in the direction of his apartment. The sun was low in the sky, tearing a ribbon of crimson across the horizon. The evening paper had come out. Naruto watched as the vendors changed the issues on their stands, bundling the old gossip away in favour of the new. There would be stories in them. Sasuke's name in bold perhaps this time, almost more real in print than he was squirrelled away in the Hokage's apartments - thin and sick and swelling with child. Was he worried? Had the earlier story bothered him? Was he afraid he'd be found? Or was he taking the news like he always did: cool, unaffected. Unwilling to show just how much something hurt him.

And yet… things had been different at the hearing. He'd been afraid. He'd been scared. He'd shut down. And those dreams, nightmares… those choked noises, that cold sweat in the dark, that wasn't the Sasuke Naruto knew. That was a Sasuke who had run out of options; who had come home for help. A Sasuke who had been damaged beyond recovery - or at least any sense of a swift recovery. A Sasuke who perhaps shouldn't have seen the morning paper and found that the village was now buzzing with news of his return. One who probably wasn't all that interested in seeing the evening paper either.

It might upset him, Naruto thought, as he suddenly changed his mind and his course - veering away from the familiar rooftop path that led him to his balcony in favor of the rickety fire escapes that spidered across the faces of the buildings opposite. He might get those… those bad dreams because of it. Might make him nervous. Maybe he'd try to run away again. Maybe….

News was a problem. Exposure - even fake exposure - could be a problem too. Naruto decided, as he jogged over roof tiles with barely a sound, that he would help on the other end of the initial project as well. He'd give the world a fake Sasuke, and also take the world away from the real one. The paper, the articles - they weren't going to do him any good. He should take it before Sasuke saw it. Just get it out of the way. Ninja were supposed to protect, weren't they? They were all looking out for Sasuke, right? So taking one little paper from his doorstep was perfectly acceptable, for sure.

It had nothing to do with the fact that in getting closer to the apartments might reward him with another glimpse of Sasuke again. No, it wasn't about that at all. It had nothing to do with that fact that Kakashi had helpfully put one of his ninken outside the bookkeep, just in case. Nor was it that Naruto now felt completely dirty as he attended to his plant watering duties whilst trying to sneak the odd glance toward Sasuke's window. Bisuke never said much, but he watched. And he had those eyes, those dark ringed, lethargic eyes that reminded him all too much of his former teacher. Perhaps peeking in on Sasuke was a little weird, but the bastard didn't have to make his point quite so obviously.

Naruto wasn't even sure if Sasuke got his paper delivered, but they did seem to drop them off everywhere. And even if he didn't, he should check, right? He really ought to… Really. He nodded at the guards as he trotted through the main gate, completely obviously to the knowing look one gave another. His mind was filled with things he might say to Sasuke - conversations that could possibly crop up if given the chance. Outwardly, he'd say that he wasn't expecting anything at all: he'd either reach the top of the stairs, pick up the paper and go, or simply find there was no paper to begin with and vacate the area as silently as he'd come. But his imagination told a different story. It rattled off conversation starters, searching for the perfect thing to say if Sasuke happened to be waiting for him.

It said: Hi Sasuke! How're ya doing?

No, too casual.

Yo Teme, just checkin' in on ya, making sure there ain't no troub-

Fuck's sake, he wasn't B.

Hi Sasuke! Wow, cold night, huh? Hope you're all warm and cozy in there. Got a new comforter? That's great. Your hair looks kinda cool when it's long like that and-

Nope, too creepy. And weird. But mostly creepy.

Heyyyyy Sa-

No.

Naruto paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking up to the balcony above. What the hell was he going to say? And why was he even thinking about a conversation anyway, Sasuke wasn't going to be waiting at the door for him! Hell, he could have even been napping about now. Or eating dinner. Or looking after the baby or something. Naruto was just going up to his doorstep and he was going to retrieve the paper and that's what he was going to do.

That's what he was going to do.

Yup, he was going to do it.

Oh fucking get up there and do it, you idiot.

He took a breath and started climbing the stairs, feeling the weight of his steps grow heavier and heavier the closer he got to the top. It was as though gravity was fighting against him, pushing him down, filling his lungs with lead. He'd watched Sasuke before, but in secret - there was no chance of getting caught. This was… It was closer. The door might open. He might be there, standing, waiting. That look of shock horror on his face like there'd been two years ago when they finally burst free of that dream. When he saw what he'd created. When he learned how Naruto really felt about him; that he'd take down the world after losing him. That he'd rather be dead than live alone without him. Even to the point where he would tie the noose itself.

Naruto's fingers twitched, still itching from the memory of the rope fibres in his hands.

He swallowed.

Then he let out a breath and in one, swift movement he was on the landing, reaching for the paper that was, as he'd pictured, curled up in a neat baton on the doormat - its pages rife with hearsay and scandal in fresh nine-point serif. His fingers closed around it. That was satisfaction. That was the part in the movie where the music rises. He let out a low, triumphant yesssss and then the door opened.

The door.

Opened.

oh.

Naruto would have recognised Sasuke's shadow anywhere. It was the hair that tipped him off initially; the stance second. He wasn't standing like that now, however - not with that contrapposto of self-assuredness, that was long gone. And the hair was different, longer, like he'd seen at the hearing. But those things were irrelevant; Naruto knew. He knew without even looking up, that Sasuke had opened the door and was now standing a mere few feet away. He could hear his fingers curling around the doorjamb. He sensed that surprise and felt the density of the pause as his former rival rallied himself to speak. He closed his eyes at that small wet sound when Sasuke opened his mouth, just before the words came, and bit his lip hard when he heard:

"What are you doing?"

Naruto looked up. It seemed to take an age. It wasn't just that his nerves had rusted his joints into grinding pivots that would squeak given half the chance, but it was his sudden, insatiable desire to take in every detail possible of the person standing before him that just slowed everything down to an ambling, arthritic slog. Naruto looked. He looked and he remembered. Every scratch on Sasuke's toes, every stitch on the hem of his pants. The thick, swampy look of his oversized hooded shirt that hid the changed figure beneath and the breath of a curve when he was no longer getting away with it. The way his neck looked, poking out of the collar, like a pale loose thread. That painfully angular jaw. And those eyes. Those eyes. Still narrow, still rimmed by long, heavy lashes that had always made him look more feminine than the rest of them. Still dark and guarded. Still miles away but part of the moment all at the same time. It was Sasuke, it was still Sasuke.

But there was hesitance in his voice. The bored drawl was replaced with something slightly more breathless. Something almost fearful. Naruto blinked and gazed at him agape; mesmerized at the way the light was framing Sasuke's face and, after a long moment, he said the best thing he could think of. Which, unfortunately, turned out to be:

"...Um?"

A/N: Well, we got there. We finally got there guys. Can you believe my original notes would have had them interacting nearly five chapters or so from the last? I did this for YOU (and because through my muses help and a lotta rp, I figured I liked this idea much better). Stories are alive, they evolve. I'm so happy to be creating this weird, crazy mind-child with you all.
Forgive any bad grammar and spelling mistakes, my Beta is off on holiday and I've only had a week to throw this chapter together, but I hope you've enjoyed it.

I've had a few questions on Akamaru and his ability to "speak" and to be honest, I'm laughing a little when I tried to figure out how to explain it. I really wanted some variety in the characters and while I loved the idea of implementing Bull or Pakkun or one of Kakashi's dogs, I really wanted to use Akamaru to create tension in the nine, but ultimately give Kiba a way back into the group's favor. Which meant, I needed to deal with a non-speaking character. I figured, because Akamaru is a ninja, he'd have to communicate in some form if he ever got separated from Kiba. I remember he ended up with Hinata or Sakura once and he kinda of acted just like a guard dog, but I wanted him to be more than that. His speech is really a mixture of body language and a type of morse code. Being ninja, I'd imagine most of the kids are pretty good at quickly interpreting that kind of thing, which makes him "speak" pretty much as they do. Yes, I'm fudging it. Absolutely, I'll admit that it's 100% bullshit. But he's fun and he talks like Cosmo... Also he can play shogi by moving the pieces with his nose or picking them up veeeeeeery carefully with his teeth.

Be cool, see you next chapter xxx