AN: to reiterate the warnings: this is an OP!Naruto and a Fem!Sasuke. The pairing is exactly the one you are thinking of. This will probably turn into a power trip. Enjoy?

Hiruzen Sarutobi was the longest serving Hokage of Konohagakure. He had led his village through two wars, won both, knew more about ninjutsu than anyone alive and was nicknamed the God of Shinobi by friends and foes alike.

He was not, however, perfect. The man himself would confess to a certain sentimentality regarding some of his decisions and rulings, his faith in upholding the ideals of his predecessors sometimes blinding him to more pragmatic problems and solutions.

When one Naruto Uzumaki, aged three and some, was outed as the human cage of the Kyuubi no Kitsune, Hiruzen was displeased, yes, but he had faith all the same. Ninja are those who endure, after all, and those of Konohagakure did not derogate to this definition. He trusted that the men and women under his command would understand that the boy was not the monster he kept at bay but their saviour. He trusted that they would heed the wish of Minato Namikaze, who had laid down his life in order to stop the beast's advance. So, he slapped the culprit on the wrist and revealed what was what, in order to prevent any poisonous rumour from circulating.

The citizenry of Konohagakure proved that, in the end, they were only human, terribly so as they proceeded to systematically ostracize the child. Driven by fear and grief, they saw nothing but a scapegoat that they all too willingly made responsible for their losses. Hate, after all, is sometimes easier than pain.

Hiruzen saw the situation and hoped, nonetheless. He believed in his people, had faith that Konohagakure would remember the Will of Fire. For an entire year, as frequently as he could (which, given his duties, was not often), he showed himself with the boy, seeking to guide by example. His efforts were immediately misinterpreted as him keeping watch on the "demon". For an entire year, he tried to explain what a jinchuuriki was, tried to convince his people of Minato Namikaze's prowess with fuinjutsu, to no avail. His words were immediately misconstrued as the "demon" being weak and ready to be killed.

Hiruzen saw Naruto turn from shy to practically mute. He saw him steal, lie and cheat. He witnessed the gradual erasure of the boy's bright smile, caught him torturing critters and felt his heart be twisted by the ambient hate. He saw him hurting and hurt in return.

Now, as said, Hiruzen Sarutobi was sentimental but far from stupid. He saw the appeal of leaving the situation as it was. Naruto's eyes shone with adoration each and every time Hiruzen spent any length of time with him. Making the child emotionally dependent and so loyal to him would have been easy. He saw, however, the spark of baleful hate that darkened the boy's blue gaze when he looked at the people. Making the child love the village was impossible. Hiruzen's foolish subjects were making plenty sure it would not happen.

The path of least resistance was always tempting but that was not the Will of Fire and above everything else, Hiruzen believed in that. It was the foremost ideal Konohagakure was founded on, the forebears' vision of peace, the belief that each soul was a spark to be protected, a blaze that kept the wolves at bay but more importantly, warmth to be shared.

Hiruzen refused to be the first Hokage to betray this philosophy. The village, he decided, would heal - forcefully if needed - and no child would ever be an exception to the comfort of the Will of Fire.

One day, without warning, Naruto Uzumaki, aged four, disappeared and the villagers were left to deal with their feelings on their own. Some discreetly celebrated but the vast majority lamented, in their heart, that the scapegoat they so loved to revile was gone. For suddenly, the pain of loss flayed them once again.

Naruto Uzumaki was no normal boy. When you have troubles recognizing people by their face because you were surrounded by masked individuals for the greater part of your very early life, when the first emotions you have ever identified on people's visage is hate and fear that your very presence seems to fuel, when everyone but a single, kind old man seek to cage you in smothering silence and crushing loneliness, you realize quickly that you are special.

What puzzled him was that he could not understand what made him special, for he would have changed it in a heartbeat, had he known. He had no parents but the orphanage he lived in once he reached two years old was full of children like him. He could not do anything about it. He was a boy but no other boy - or girl, for that matter - was treated like he was. He could not change it. He was blond and had blue eyes but, while his shades were unique, light colours were not uncommon in the village. He had considered ripping his eyes out but had been stopped by the kind old man.

He had on his face three birthmarks on either cheek, however, that no one else seemed to possess. He stole a knife, thrice, and tried to carve them out but the attempts ended in failure. The damages to his face healed overnight and, after his third try, he realized his actions were useless.

Naruto hated little more than his "whiskers". They made him special and he hated being special. Special hurt in a way cuts and scrapes could not. Special clawed at him, ripped entire chunks of his being and filled the void with something bubbling, boiling and ugly that constantly urged him to claw and rip in return.

Eventually, he did. He moved on from the critters he easily caught thanks to his sharpened senses and carved the face of a kid his age, the leader of a band of bullies who had been especially aggressive and aggravating. He cut three whiskers on the boy's visage and waited to see if it would make his victim special too. Then, he reasoned, he would not be alone anymore.

The next day, the kind old man came to the orphanage. He spoke to Naruto - offered an "apology" and said he was "sorry", not that the boy could make any sense of these words - and took him away.

One day, without warning, Naruto Uzumaki, aged four, disappeared. The kind old man led him someplace where he was not special. Naruto absolutely loved it.

Hiruzen Sarutobi looked at the ninja kneeling in front of him from behind his joined hands. The individual wore the blue fatigues of Konohagakure shinobi, shin-high sandals and a tight headscarf covering their hair. Outside any regulations were the haori teetering between saffron and rust, emblazoned with a red swirl, and the completely blank mask hiding their features. They were tall and lean but still had the frame of a teen.

"Hello, Naruto."

The shinobi tilted his head to the side for an instant. He inhaled through his nose, deeply. The Hokage smelled strongly of tobacco, fire and earth as well as a little bit like medicine.

"Hello, Lord Hokage."

"Would you mind removing this mask?"

"Yes," said the teen. His voice was blunt but not to the point of being curt.

Hiruzen knew his interlocutor meant no disrespect. "You are aware why you've been called here, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then you know you will have to remove this mask of yours."

"I do not understand why. Me being discharged from ANBU has nothing to do with my wearing a mask."

Hiruzen sighed. Naruto's childhood had twisted him one way and the measures taken to correct it had twisted him in another.

"People do not wear masks in the open, Naruto."

"Why?"

The Hokage exhaled slowly and carefully massaged his brow. "Because, Naruto, a mask suggests untrustworthiness, whereas an open face fosters trust."

It was time for Konohagakure to make up for her mistake, time for the secret son of the Yondaime Hokage to walk in the open, time for the thrice saviour of the village to be acknowledged as the propaganda department had put in a lot of work already but Naruto needed to be seen for these things to coalesce and become reality.

The teen hummed. "My time in ANBU suggests otherwise," he answered eventually.

"But you're no ANBU anymore."

"Yes. I do not see how it would invalidate my experience." The teen hesitated. "Does it?"

"Generally, no but as far as dissimulating your face in your own home village goes, yes."

Naruto tilted his head to the side once again, seemingly intently listening to the old man's voice. He was not sure Konohagakure was his home. Konohagakure was his duty, yes, but his home was the ANBU fortress in the Hokage Mountain. It was his lord asking, however, and Naruto trusted the kind, old man.

He reached for the piece of steel and baked clay that covered his face. His hand hovered above it for an instant before he removed it slowly. The boy seemed to be around fifteen, give or take a few months. He sported a soft yet still willful oval jawline, sharp cheekbones, a narrow, slightly upturned nose, eyes of an incredible azure and hair blond as mature wheat. Naruto looked at the Hokage, focusing his gaze on one of the strokes of black kohl that underlined the old man's eyes.

"This is… strange, I think." He was going to say "unpleasant" but corrected himself at the last second. He was not even sure why.

"I'm sure you'll be alright," reassured Hiruzen. "I trust in you. After all, Naruto Uzumaki made Wolverine an excellent operator. There's no reason he cannot be an outstanding jounin."

Naruto forced his lips to arch into a smile. He knew convention expected him to. It looked strained and did not exactly reach his eyes. When he spoke, however, his voice conveyed soft but sincere gratitude.

"Thanks, Oji."

"You're welcome, Naruto. Now let's talk about your new assignment. You will transition under the lead of jounin-captain Kakashi Hatake, with the rank of jounin-lieutenant. You will assist him with cell oh-five-seven, taking missions alongside them. The objective is for you to eventually lead them, Naruto, as a heavy response team."

"Who will be my teammates?"

"Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno. They are both chunin-sergeants."

"Haruno of the Senju branch?"

"Yes."

"Very well." The teen's tone betrayed absolutely nothing. "When does this assignment begin?"

"In a week."

"I understand."

"Good. You're dismissed. By the way, Kanna asked me to extend an invitation for dinner, tomorrow evening."

"Thank you, Lord Hokage. May you tell Miss Kanna that I'll be present?"

"Of course."

Naruto rose to his feet and bowed before exiting the office of the Hokage. A minute frown scrunched his features slightly. Every motion caused the air to caress his face, like the brush of dainty fingers, something his mask had prevented from happening for years. The sensation was jarring in its novelty and Naruto had to repress the urge to put his mask back on as he walked down the halls of the Hokage Tower.

The teenager took several turns, disappearing behind a shelf at some point and entering a narrow catwalk that spiralled down and led to an underground passage. Travelling through the tunnel took him a minute before he reached a steep staircase encased in a deep rocky well. Another few minutes later, Naruto stood in front of an armoured door and knocked.

A piece of steel slid open to reveal a small window, through which a masked individual peered at the teen.

"Wolverine, june-sixty-zero-five," said Naruto flatly.

"Accepted."

There was a loud "clang" and the door opened, pivoting on its hinges without another sound. Behind, a tall man in dark fatigues was waiting. Naruto smelled fire, fried rice, oiled steel and beard lotion on the guard and deduced it was green Bear. Patiently, he rolled up his right sleeve and revealed a stylized flame tattooed on his biceps. The bear-masked man flashed through mudra and placed his hands above the tattoo before nodding.

"Identity confirmed. Proceed, Wolverine."

"Thank you, Bear. I came to say goodbye, as lord Hokage has seen fit to discharge me."

Naruto heard the breathing of Bear hitch.

"I see," answered the man eventually. It would have been imperceptible for anyone else but Naruto could hear the tremors brought by emotion. Bear bowed. "It has been an honour to serve alongside you."

Naruto bowed slightly. "The honour was mine."

As he navigated the corridors of the headquarters of ANBU, Naruto met several operators who he greeted similarly. Black Hare, smelling of sweets and black powder, blue Snake, smelling of blood and ink, red Hound, redolent of wet fur and fresh meat. All wished him well, their manners stilted but genuine.

The only exceptions to that were the members of his team. Purple Cat - chamomile, oiled steel, fish-based lipstick - hugged him strongly, though that was something the woman was prone to do. Not that Naruto minded it in the least. Green Tiger - wood, flowers, earth and water - tousled his hair and told the boy that he was proud of him. Red Weasel - fire, pocky, nail paint - and he shared a warrior's handshake, clasping each other's forearm. The older teen was a man of few words, much like Naruto, but the firm grasp of his hand was enough for Naruto to know the depth of his affection.

Naruto explained his new assignment to his comrades. Tiger was unsurprised, being the team captain, he had known. Cat and Weasel congratulated him. Cat gushed that team seven was an exceptional team, one that notoriously groomed the successive Hokage and the various S-rank shinobi of Konohagakure.

As for Weasel, his preoccupations were more personal. "Do take care of my sister, Wolverine."

"My blood for the village, my life for my teammates," answered Naruto unwaveringly.

"Please, be patient with her," recommended Weasel. "She is still a bit… rough around the edges."

Naruto hummed. "I will take that into consideration."

"I know you will. Enjoy your foray into the light, friend."

Naruto tried to smile but felt his facial muscles strain uncomfortably. Instead, he bowed his head. "Thank you. I wish you all the best."

"Do not be a stranger," said Cat. "You know where to find us. Once ANBU, always ANBU, no matter what the eggheads say."

"I understand. I will seek you should I find myself in need of company. Thank you, sister Cat. Captain Tiger. Weasel."

Naruto reached for the mask hanging from his belt, untying the knot that held the object fastened to his waist. Suddenly, his arms turned to lead as the enormity of what he was asked to do fully settled in. His fingers brushed longingly against the cold, polished surface. As he trailed the blank men-yoroi, the materials it was made of twisted and boiled, slowly adopting the feature of a snarling wolverine. There were numerous crimson marks framing the bestial mien, triangular, circular and flame-like. Underneath the right eye, a single golden spot shone.

"You did this mask proud," said Tiger as he took the armour from Naruto's hands.

Naruto did not answer. An unusual sensation weighed on his chest, shortening his breath, while his throat tightened painfully. His eyes burned as well. The last time he had felt anything like this was when blue Hawk, black Crow and black Wolf had died. He silently repeated Cat's words in the confines of his mind. Once an ANBU, always an ANBU, the woman had said. But who was an ANBU without their mask?

Smells and sounds disappeared as thorny tendrils of fear lashed at him. Who was he without his face? He had been Wolverine for so long, could he simply turn around and become Naruto all of a sudden? Wolverine was the Bloody Badger, an esteemed operator of Konohagakure special forces, a shinobi so efficient he had never failed a mission nor allowed any witness to live, the first operator in history to be decorated so young with the golden chrysanthemum for bravery in the field.

Who was even Naruto Uzumaki? A pariah, a powerless child reviled in his home and isolated to nothingness, that was who. He wanted nothing to do with such a person.

"You are going to be okay, Naruto," assured Cat. She had been with the boy the longest, knew him best, understood his fears the most. She gave him a light tap above the heart. "Wolverine is here, ready to come out and protect his new teammates."

The teen swallowed the lump in his throat, breathed in deeply and saluted, his posture tense and uneasy, before he turned on his heels and exited the meeting room of his ex-team.

An hour later, Naruto found himself aimlessly pacing in the spacious office of his new apartment. The Hokage had arranged for him to live in a Konoha-owned building, the boy's jounin credentials earning him a rather large flat at the top of the apartment tower. Of course, the old man had also seen fit to fill his fridge and pantry with all the basics, his bathroom was fully stocked and even the furniture had been taken care of, which left Naruto with absolutely nothing to do. The only personal touch the teen had brought were three pieces of parchment inscribed with the kanji for "protect", "nurture" and "blaze".

He did not like his new place. Having lived for most of his life in the ANBU barracks, the quiet and absence of smells were throwing Naruto off. Worst, they reminded him of a time he did not want to think about. What truly made his skin crawl, however, was the general inactivity. As an ANBU, Naruto had spent his time training, teambuilding, erasing the enemies of Konohagakure from existence and then back to the loop again. Suddenly, he was a jounin with free time. The very concept was alien to him.

Eventually, he sat in front of his desk. The Hokage had even stocked up on paper and ink, knowing full well of what made Naruto one of his most dangerous ninja. The teen retrieved one of his only possessions - a fine brush of exquisite craftsmanship - and started drawing ley lines and locks on a large rectangular sheet of paper. Quickly, Naruto relaxed as he lost himself in the arcane of fuda- and fuinjutsu. He would not stop before late in the night.

Naruto awoke one hour exactly after daybreak, long instilled discipline tearing him away from the embrace of sleep. Feeling rested, the teen quickly washed his face, passed on his fatigues and sandals and exited his flat for a morning run. For an hour, he pushed himself, willingly restraining his chakra in order to build endurance and muscle strength. Then, for half an hour more, he unleashed the might of his inner energy, stretching his coils and tenketsu to the limit in order to further sharpen his control. The roof of his residence being flat, Naruto used the space to go through a series of calisthenic exercises as well as some kata. Two hours after waking up, the teen finally wrapped his morning routine with a session of cool-down stretches before he returned to his flat for a shower and a solid breakfast.

Once again, Naruto found himself at a loss for what to do. Usually, his teammates and he would be sparring, working through team tactics or discussing simulations. He knew he could always go to one of the jounin-reserved training grounds to work on whatever destructive ninjutsu he wished to but the thought that people he did not know would potentially be here, free to observe him, twisted his stomach. The shinobi of Konohagakure were his comrades, Naruto certainly knew that intellectually, but being an ANBU meant belonging to a rather exclusive coterie. A tightly knit, familial coterie.

The urge to visit Cat - visit his team - bubbled in his heart, forming an almost painful pressure that constricted his chest, but Naruto fought against it. He could not rightly call his sister for help so soon. He had to try and adapt first. His resolve made, Naruto decided to take a walk in the village. For all that his duty commanded that he protect Konohagakure, Naruto knew very little about the place and the inhabitants. There had been a time when he did not want to know them, only hurt them. Since then, he truly had not had the opportunity to see if things had changed.

He donned the standard shinobi pants, a white shirt and tied his hitai-ate around his forehead before exiting his apartment.

For the better part of the morning, Naruto wandered aimlessly through the village. Konohagakure was more of a town, really, considering her size. She was a somehow harmonious patchwork of trees, streams and rills, wood and bricks, concrete and steel, a mix and match of styles and architectures, of old craftsmanship and new building processes. The air was warm but pleasantly cooled by a slight breeze and the omnipresent shade of the canopy and redolent of wood, earth and flowers.

Most people - their numbers increasing as the morning stretched towards noon - greeted Naruto. It was not much: a twist of their features, a nod, a word. Their facial expressions still constituted as many puzzles for him to solve but the teen ascertained by their smell and posture they meant him no harm. Some could even be considered friendly, their voice containing appeasing and engaging harmonics. Many seemed to think nothing of it, greeting him as they greeted any shinobi serving Konohagakure. A few held a strange reserve, however, as if unsure of something.

The first salutation he got made his skin crawl. The second made him slightly dizzy. The third made him wonder where he was exactly. He stopped asking himself questions after the fourth one. Naruto answered them all politely, as he had been taught, his body tense, waiting. Waiting for these people to notice the whisker birthmarks so brazenly displayed for the world to see. Waiting for them to realize that he was special. Waiting for the spark of recognition that would awaken their cruelty.

The poisoned whispers, the heated glares, they never came. Naruto saw himself walk around Konohagakure as if he were anyone else. Although it was not exactly true; there existed a layer to his interactions with some villagers that he could not decipher. The sensation became too much and the teen rested away from the populous streets and avenues he had frequented until now, sitting on a bench in a park. The whispers of a brook were a balm to his scrambled mind and once Naruto could centre himself, he quickly acknowledged his surprise for what it had been.

"Weirded out" never seemed to fit as much as it did now. Naruto had not expected anything, really. He would have been fine with indifference and had been fully prepared to hurt a few people, had their tendencies not changed. The old man, Naruto mused, had been correct in saying that time heals all wounds. Though the teen suspected there was more to the situation than he knew. His track record was supposedly a secret, according to protocol but those who had recognized him smelled of two things.

The sour odour of shame, he could understand. He had never deserved their treatment of him. He could not explain why they were grateful, however, considering his - allegedly - non-existent exploits.

Naruto did not seek the acknowledgement of Konohagakure. He was ready to bleed for the village if need be, as his duty required him to but that was the extent of his feelings on the matter. Hiruzen Sarutobi, his "Oji", acknowledged him. The Sarutobi clan welcomed him. The entirety of ANBU held him in high regard, an honoured member of the family. Those were the people who mattered, the people he would lay down his life for.

Not being regarded by the masses as something to be erased, as an existence to be denied, though, was nice. Not having his neck burned by looks that were in equal parts hateful and fearful was, too. It was nice not getting his ears poisoned by reproachful curses or his heart crushed by a guilt he knew nothing about except for the fact it was obviously his to bear. The villagers' new disposition was pleasant.

When the teen resumed his walk, his gait was lighter. When a villager greeted him, his skin still crawled but his frame remained relaxed.

AN: feel free to leave a review. Feel free to run with it as well, if the concept interests you. Just know that it will not be a priority of mine.