At fourteen, he's the product of new relationships and new responsibilities, the opportunity to train and the chance at a more normal life, but although Sasuke's come a long way from what he used to be, a long way from the weak little kid he couldn't stand to be, the faster he runs, the farther away everything ahead of him seems to become, and as much as he doesn't want to look back, it still feels like he'll always be left behind.

...

VI. 'Til the Stars Get on the Fame (Joker Remix)

Before that first peace summit between the Alliance and the Federation, before the whole fiasco with Orochimaru, just the thought of being able to have a sparring session with Naruto, the idea of being allowed to train at all, no matter how many times he'd tried to convince his parents and his brother how capable he'd grown in his abilities, it was simply out of the question.

After developing his empathy and his life magic, any activity his parents or his brother deemed even remotely strenuous, often times the most seemingly normal kinds of interactions, something as trivial as being able to go to school, or even going to the convenience store, just being able to go out on his own, it was no longer an option.

Granted, after developing empathy and life magic, he'd been mostly confined to Reife for those first two and a half years, because he couldn't mentally or physically handle being close to other people, and his reactions were severe enough that he continued to require almost constant medical supervision, despite the progress he was making with Iyashi.

Even after being released from the ward, and especially after discovering his life magic, he discovered that were a lot of things he just couldn't do.

Although he didn't really comprehend the series of changes happening at the time, on some level, he did realise the people around him growing fewer, in such a short time, the world around having grown so much smaller, but never could he have imagined just how small his world would become.

It wasn't so bad at nine, though, when he was still hesitant about being around people he didn't know, when he was much more dependent on Naruto, before he began to fully grasp the extent of the restrictions placed on him as a life user, for his own personal safety and what was actually mandated by law.

Even now, at fourteen, he still hasn't really had the opportunity to get out much, to do the kinds of extracurricular activities considered normal for kids his age; his appointments with Iyashi don't count, and the occasional appearance he's had to make with his parents, either at private or public affairs, for the sake of social obligations, the kind that don't exactly adhere to the idea of normal he's been striving for.

The majority of his time has been spent studying, since he's pretty much been homeschooled for the most part, with a steady stream of private instructors who taught through supervised video conferencing, rarely allowed to teach him in person.

Apart from what's established in the curriculum, he studies whatever material he can get his hands on. Essentially, it serves as independent study, which allows him to delve further into the military-related subjects he's more interested in, the kinds of things usually covered in the notoriously rigorous courses taught at Nagi's Academy, geared towards trainees on the flight track, that aren't offered to underage civilians.

Eventually, he wants to use it towards credit hours for college-level courses, for whatever he may decide to do after high school, although lately he's been concentrating more on his own personal research, trying to follow up on already heavily scattered magic lore and what little is known on record about life users, while hoping he's not being to be too obvious in his attempts to learn different elemental magic techniques in between.

(If it were up to his parents, he'd probably spend the rest of his life studying, because they'd rather him pursue an academic career after high school, although it's not like there's much else he's been able to do.

And he knows he's smart. It's not arrogant to say he probably would've been accepted into the Academy on his own merit, even cast under the shadow of his brother's brilliance.

After all that time spent trying to live vicariously through Naruto, staying up to read Naruto's assigned texts, helping Naruto understand whatever concepts he was struggling with, doing his absolute best to make sure at least one of them still got to keep their dream, the few times he'd taken the simulated variation of the preliminary entrance exam, consistently, he ranked close among the highest scores in the Academy's history.

Though, for all his attempts to prove he wasn't useless, in the end, it didn't matter much, considering the simulation wasn't designed to keep records of the results, and it was just the knowledge portion, anyway. Never mind that legally he's not allowed to even register to take the preliminary exam, on the off chance that his parents would actually let him.

But even with the other components, he knows he could've passed those, too. He's raised his physical strength and endurance. His level of mental acuity is probably the one thing he'll ever have over his brother and Naruto, so he wouldn't be hindered by his empathy, either, and even with his lack of reserves for elemental magic, as long as he chose one of his better affinities, he knows he would've done well.

Despite being a life user, he's a lot more competent in ways it sometimes feels like no one wants to give him credit for. He's not that weak. Not anymore. It's just...

He's not his brother or Naruto.

Being forced to watch from the sidelines, settling with being content, having to sit out while Naruto continues to move closer and closer towards achieving his dream, he doesn't blame Naruto for being able to go where he can't follow, but if he didn't have empathy, if he didn't have any kind of magic at all, then, maybe...

Maybe it would've meant more, once upon a time, all those moments he and Naruto shared before, huddled together on that small little bed in the ward, fallen into seemingly endless conversation, those days of playing with Naruto's model ships, filled with hushed excitement, whispering to each other promises of someway flying among the stars, whispers of shared dreams that became cherished secrets held between only the two of them.

"Even with your empathy, it won't always be like this, you know. When we grow up, when we get old enough to get into the Academy, I'll wait for you, and then we're going to go chase the stars."

"...the two of us, you really think..."

"...yeah. Yeah, me and you, we're going to race each other up there one day."

Those were the kinds of things Naruto would never fail to promise him then, but now, facing Naruto's back, having to watch Naruto from behind...

Of course, he wants Naruto to succeed. Even for his sake, he'd never ask Naruto to sacrifice his own ambitions. He'd never ask Naruto to give up on the person he's trying to become, and it'd be the worst kind of insult, if Naruto ever gave up on his dreams, out of some misplaced, soppy sentiment, because it'd just be a hollow attempt to make him feel better.

His brother's already given up so much for him. He can't let Naruto do that, too.

He knows he's still inexperienced about a lot of things, through the spread of indiscriminate rumours, knows how quickly too many people still tend to paint him as some helpless child with far too delicate sensibilities, to the extent he couldn't possibly be expected to function in public without his parents or his brother to guide him, but he doesn't want to think he's that selfish.

As much as he worries about being left behind, he doesn't need someone there to hold his hand wherever he goes—he's not that overly sensitive kid anymore. He doesn't need to depend on Naruto to make everything better, and he's not going to let his situation become something that could hold Naruto back.

The fact the he ended up being a life user, that's not Naruto's fault, so there's no reason to begrudge Naruto for any of it.

Because he's not jealous of Naruto.

He's not.)

With most of his time structured around his studies or his appointments with Iyashi, there's very little to break the usual monotony, but he's used to how things are now. It's been part of his routine for so long, that there really isn't much to say about it, other than this is the life he's come to know.

He should only be so lucky he doesn't have to live in any kind of solitary confinement. Those days stuck in Reife, he really did struggle with the scale of isolation, and while he's never been a particularly social person, anyway, it was still hard to adjust to the abrupt lack of interaction with other people.

Like any other kid, he'd made friends from school, mostly the kids whose families his mom and dad already knew. He had no shortage of extended family members to rely on, either, however relatively small a group they were, cousins and aunts and uncles, the ones who hadn't initially shunned him for his then apparent lack of empathy and magical ability, especially Shi—

Ironically, he finds himself just as ostracised with all the attention drawn towards him being a life user. Yet, for all the times he's ever felt alone, at the very least, he can say he's never truly been alone. He's always had his brother and his parents. He's always had Naruto and Kushina and Minato. And, slowly but surely, that once small circle of people around him is starting to grow.

He'll admit it can still feel a little overwhelming, if he allows himself to dwell too much on all the fanciful what-ifs and his now seemingly pointless dreams, but, overall, he does want to believe things are finally getting better.

Itachi offering to take him in, that's helped, too. His brother stepping down at the height of his own military career, allowing him to live on base, while Naruto's enrolled in the Academy, he'll never be able to express how truly grateful he is for that, for how much his brother chose to give up, in order to give him the chance to have a more normal life.

His parents have since become more agreeable to the idea, gradually allowing him a greater degree of independence; he still can't go very far on his own, only places within a suitable walking distance, but it means he can run small errands for Itachi, pick up groceries from the commissary around the corner, even go to the library on base without being openly chaperoned, if he ignores the unseen security detail that follows him, at least giving him the illusion of being alone.

(Even with his brother's support, initially, his parents were critical of Itachi's decision. Where Itachi had been living before, although it had plenty of security, it wasn't what his parents were comfortable with, the kind of complex that offered single-person living arrangements, intended to be an anonymous, interim residence for members who were temporarily stationed at Nagi, usually in between orders, and, in his brother's case, off-world duty tours.

However, Itachi had already been planning his move into the old barracks, simply waiting for renovations to finish, because the area was being rebranded for certain essential, high-ranked personnel, and would eventually become one of the more heavily secured locations, in what was already considered one of the most secure bases throughout the entire Alliance.

The renovations were only finished a few months ago, with the apartment-style housing much more moderate in size than his home near the Capital, but it's still really nice. However, because Itachi still has responsibilities, he only gets to stay there two or three days every other week, but, if he was lucky, those days would also coincide with Naruto's ability to visit, and it's something he really could get used to, sharing this small little space with his brother he's already started to think of as home.

It won't be a permanent move any time soon. His parents have only agreed to it on a conditional basis, his stays with Itachi being somewhat transitional in nature, as long as he continues to show he's able to behave in a mature capacity.)

Following his encounter with Orochimaru, he wasn't sure about being able to live with Itachi. That probably should've been the least of his worries at the time; if anything, it seemed to further convince his parents that living on base would be a safer environment, and it's been going well so far.

As long as he continues to have no incidents and doesn't suffer another episode, he may be able to actually attend classes on campus soon, as early as next year, at the start of the new term.

It seems like such a simple thing, almost trivial, really, the kind of experience he never thought he'd take for granted, something that's managed to retain this sort of novelty, and yet it'll be the closest semblance of normal he's had in long time.

Already, it's been two years since his last major incident. Two years since what happened at Yuna, where he had his most recent empathetic attack.

Since developing his empathy, it was the first time he was leaving Nagi, the first time he was travelling off world with his parents. That day, due to an unusual amount of delays, the spaceport had been busier than usual, prompting his parents to pull him even closer, his mom placing an arm around him, but it didn't seem like anything he couldn't handle.

Each time his mom asked if he was okay, he said he was fine. And he was. A little wary, maybe, as he fidgeted with his newly-issued passport, but only because it was his first opportunity to test his shields against a crowd of that magnitude, of mostly non-magic users. Yet there was nothing that felt off with his empathy, nothing to even hint at what would eventually come.

Before they could board, however, before they even reached the main security checkpoint at the gate, seemingly out of nowhere, he had an empathy attack.

To have that kind of breakdown in public, with so many people watching him, recording him, just knowing that the footage is still out there for anyone to see, while time hasn't made it any less humiliating, it didn't become the setback he once believed it'd prove to be.

After he lost consciousness, instead of taking him to Reife, though, his parents had agreed it'd be better to let him recover at home, which Iyashi had advised, as well. Later, he woke up to his brother at his side, woke up with that same, near debilitating fear from uncertainty he thought he'd finally gotten over.

It took him a while to feel comfortable with his empathy again. At first, it really did feel like he'd relapsed, had regressed back to that muddled blur in time when he'd be in a constant state of unease, left to dread his next empathetic attack, because he already understood that it was inevitable.

Fortunately, what happened at Yuna seemed to be an isolated incident, something Iyashi ultimately attributed to changing hormones, a fluke more or less, since Iyashi declared there was nothing to indicate anything abnormal with his shields, and nothing he could immediately discern that would've affected his empathy development to such an extent.

Nonetheless, as a preventive measure, Iyashi scheduled more regular sessions and told his parents that he should have dailies again, for a minimum of two weeks, and until he could reach a more conclusive determination on Sasuke's mental and emotional states.

Despite his annoyance at having to go through dailies again, it was still better than having to go back to Reife. As a result, however, his parents were even more disinclined to let him do anything, much less let him out of their sight, preferring that he simply focus on studying, and generally avoid any situation that could present even the slightest possibility of him being overwhelmed by his empathy.

Considering everything he'd already put them through, he could see why they were so cautious, couldn't even say it was unwarranted, because it was difficult even for them do anything, without their every move being scrutinised.

He still can't understand why there continues to be such a vested interested in him. While he can't ignore the fact that life magic is the rarest form of magic, based on what's publically known about him, common knowledge based on what people have already assumed about his empathy and his healing ability, it seems like most people's curiosity should've died off at this point, although he believes the sustained interest probably has more to do with his family name, rather than solely with him as a life user.

Regardless, his parents have always done their best to protect him, even if protecting him sometimes means going against the interests of their family as a whole, and potentially threatening their own standing; though members of the main branch, they can only do so much, and the power of the Uchiha name can only carry them so far, even taking into account what he's seen of their combined political and social leverage, within both the Alliance and the magic user community.

But his parents aren't like his brother or Naruto, though. They've never had that immediate calming effect on him. With their presence alone, they've never been able to quiet his empathy, to suddenly make everything around him no longer hurt.

(Of course, it doesn't hurt to be near them anymore. They've long since become safe, and he's more than confident enough in his shields, that he doesn't flinch whenever his parents are too close, doesn't hesitate to accept the warmth from his mom's hand placed over his forehead, or the quiet relief from his dad's sometimes still too tentative hugs, a near palpable relief from just being able to hold him.)

All the same, dealing with the aftermath of his last empathetic attack, it was still frustrating. The way it felt everyone would look at him, kept treating him, as if any given moment, at any time, any little thing was liable to make him break.

He expected it from the people he didn't know, the ones who'd already made their assumptions about him, and the ones he'd tell himself he couldn't do anything about.

He expected the watchful stares from his parents and his brother. That was a given. From Kushina and Minato, too, and even from Sakura and Iyashi. With his history, he understood they were just trying to be prepared, and he could appreciate that. But it was so much worse with Naruto. It's always worse having to deal with that almost stifling sort of concern from Naruto.

Having to face a hesitant Naruto who clearly didn't want to upset him, like Naruto was too afraid to even hold his hand, when all Sasuke wanted to do, was simply be close to him, as close as they've always been, just the two of them, like so many times when he'd curl up against Naruto, during the aftermath of some of his worst episodes, when he so readily believed in Naruto's promises, already convinced by Naruto's easy assurances that everything really would be okay.

Except he didn't need that from Naruto.

He doesn't want to need it anymore.

He just...

Given the timing of the whole Yuna incident, on the matter of allowing him to have any sort of physical or magical training, his parents' past refusals made sense, despite the fact he had already reached the age where even magic users with low levels of empathy have the opportunity to receive at least some form of basic training, to help develop their magical ability.

The current issue with Orochimaru, however, in particular Orochimaru's ongoing fascination with him, including the continued attempts to make personal contact with him, is what ultimately drove his parents to reconsider. Surprisingly, or maybe not, it was on his brother's insistence, that his parents eventually agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly, it was necessary that he should learn at least some form of self-defence, so he'd be better prepared, if he were to find himself in that kind of situation again.

Not being allowed to train before, of course that didn't prevent him from experimenting on his own, or watching others, especially when it came to magic and exposing himself to different techniques; the rare opportunity he had to observe Naruto during private lessons with Kakashi, he didn't hesitate to take advantage of that, especially since Kakashi's the only lightning user he's actually been able to get close to.

What he's doing now, with his parents taking the time to help him strengthen his fire magic, finally allowing him to spar with Naruto, his brother even teaching him more about shadow magic and how to wield a sword, that's an entirely different matter altogether.

One of the prevailing reasons why training had never been an option before, his parents told him, point blank, is because of his empathy; his life magic hasn't been so much an issue lately, which he can credit to having to wear his gloves, but what happened at Yuna isn't so far removed, relatively speaking, and only helped solidify how unpredictable his empathy still has the potential to be.

It remains a serious cause for concern and won't change any time soon. Even after developing life magic, everything still seems to come back to his empathy, why his parents have always been so adamant about keeping him close, keeping him away from the public eye, kept him all but secluded from the outside world.

But even if that weren't the case, if he wanted to pretend his parents would've actually entertained the idea otherwise, he still wouldn't have been able to receive any traditional training, because there's the still the issue of finding people who could be trusted around him. It's already such a small list, the people who know about his life magic, his elemental magic, alongside the relationship between Kyuubi and Naruto, and his connection to them both—the more people who know, the more precarious the situation becomes, because it increases the risk of exposure.

Beyond that, among the few adults he's been able to view as safe, rarely has there been time to give him that kind of dedicated attention training requires, with little incentive to make time, when already established, much more effective safety measures had clearly taken a priority.

In effect, much of what he's learned about his own abilities, he discovered for himself.

As often as his brother likes to admonish him for being too flippant with his life magic, in his defence, he's only done what comes naturally to him. Without any conventional training to fall back on, he's been mostly left to his own devices—not counting how many times he's been told the idea of permission isn't something that's left up to interpretation. Naruto's already made it a point many times to disagree and correct what he calls an extremely faulty line of reasoning:

"No, Sasuke. No. That's not it at all. You just like to do things on your own without telling anyone because you're trying to send me to an early grave."

Naruto also likes to accuse him of being too curious for his own good, with an entirely too highly selective awareness of his surroundings, and maybe there is some truth to that, every time someone says he needs to be more attentive in certain situations, that he needs to put into perspective how his actions may affect those around him, but it's not that he means to appear so flippant about his life magic.

He just doesn't think it should be such a surprise that he relies so heavily on it, as intrinsic as his life magic is to his empathy, even if using it instead of his elemental magic means pulling from his own life force, because, just like when Orochimaru tried to corner him during the peace summit, if he already knows everything's going to be fine, then, really, he can't see the problem.

Except when it comes to trying to explain how he could possibly even know about something like that, he can sort of see the issue there. But it's actually not dissimilar to his compulsion to heal. It's something that simply is, before even him, already was, something he somehow just intuitively knows will always be. That's the way he's come to think of it, although his parents and his brother aren't as lenient as they used to be, far from convinced every time he tries to describe how difficult it is to resist the pull of his own magic, because he's apparently past the age of being able to make excuses.

Up until he was ten, during that time was when he suffered the worst of it. Wearing specialised gloves had drastically cut down on the effect of those kinds of episodes, minimising the contact of bare skin, which meant practically having to live in his gloves, but he'd still have these instances where he would work himself up into a near fit, when someone was hurt—that someone usually being Naruto, and Sasuke's definition of hurt usually translating into an injury as minor as a paper cut on Naruto's finger, or the slightest scrape across Naruto's elbow or his knee, because Naruto's always been the kind of clumsy guy, who just so happens to often manage tripping over his own two feet.

Sometimes, even the thought of Naruto not being okay was enough to set him off. It wasn't necessarily something he cried over, because he still refused to let Naruto see him cry, but he remembers being terrified of the idea alone, vague, those moments it suddenly became harder and harder to breathe, turned frantic, reduced to pleading, when he'd end up shaking in Naruto's arms wrapped too tight around him, because so much more than his natural inclination to heal, it was an all-consuming need to do everything in his power to make sure Naruto no longer hurt.

"Naruto, your arm..."

"My arm? What about my—oh, you mean this? Probably bumped into a wall or something earlier."

"...you're hurt."

"Nah, it's just a scratch. Nothing to—"

"But you're hurt. Naruto, you're—"

"Sasuke, don't—"

"If you're hurt, I have to fix it. You have to let me fix it, because you can't be hurt—you can't, Naruto. You can't be hurt. You ca—"

"Let me see your eyes. Look at—Sasuke, hey—hey, I'm right here, okay. Look at me. I'm right here."

"...Naruto, you..."

"See? I'm okay. I promise. I'm okay."

(That feeling, it hasn't really gone away, hasn't truly abated, just doesn't come to him as often, but it still comes to him, this distant thought, unbelievable this notion, that one day something would ever happen to Naruto, that something could ever take Naruto away from him. It will, he thinks—no, he knows, except he doesn't, can't know, not now, this very hazy impression of a time before, a dim sensation, like drowning on air, as if he were falling, flailing just beneath the surface, what he scarcely understands, a time he still can't remember, buried in darkness, but a time that just hurts—

Itstillhurtsithurtsitalwayshurts.)

Fortunately, as embarrassing as those kinds of episodes were, they were rare, but between that and the seemingly random bouts of healing, most of the time, he didn't even remember it happening.

Always, his parents would make him see Iyashi afterward. As if his regular appointments weren't bad enough. During these more impromptu sessions, though, Iyashi would push him even harder to explore his feelings and work out his emotions.

And if Iyashi suspected those particular episodes had anything to do with what happened when Shisui died, while that wasn't a conversation he'd leave completely alone, it was one of the few topics Iyashi would approach with a little more care, rather than with his seemingly casual indifference.

It was a sensitive issue, still is to this day, and definitely contributed to those instances where he did panic about someone close to him being hurt, about not being able to save them, the same way he wasn't able to save Shisui—that anxiety was often amplified by his empathy, and would sometimes lead to the unintentional use of his life magic, even if there was nothing for him to actually heal.

"Everybody keeps acting like I do it on purpose, but I don't. And I don't know how I'm supposed to control it. I can't even stop it. It just happens, but what does any of that even matter, when I can't do anything to change it? I don't understand why I have to keep talking about it over and over again."

"Because it's not enough for you to acknowledge your emotions. It's also important that you're able to acknowledge when you're feeling overwhelmed by them, so you'll be able to start recognising the differences between what may be considered a natural impulse for you, and what may be considered a panic-induced response to the situation you see yourself in."

"I know that already, Iyashi—I know, I know, but it's the same it's always been. I don't even realise I'm doing it. I just...you said it yourself. You said it's a compulsion. But why even call it that, if you're just expecting me to—"

"I only expect you to try. The exercises we do here, you need to continue—"

"I know I need to do them at home. I already do them at home. But even then, that's still not enough, because this isn't like my empathy—with my life magic, it's not like thinking about wearing a coat or counting buttons, or rolling up my sleeves, nothing like all the other things you taught me before, and it makes me feel like I'll never..."

"Sasuke."

"I can't..."

"Sasuke."

"I don't want to open my eyes."

"Why don't you want to open your eyes?"

"I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"If everything's fine, then you should be able to open your eyes."

"...I..."

"Take your time. Breathe."

"...I'm breathing. I can do it on my own."

"Keep breathing."

"...I am."

"Do you want to hold my hand?"

"...no. I don't need to."

"Do you want to lie down?"

"I'm okay now. My eyes just hurt a little."

"All right. Where are you on your scale?"

"...a four."

The biggest hurdle with his life magic, whether he's using it to heal or not, has been the threat of magical exhaustion: what it means to overexert himself when using his magic, how quickly and easily he can reach that point, and how often he's come to nearly depleting his life force because of it.

It didn't take long to discover a direct correlation between his susceptibility to his empathy and the use of his life magic. Due to the intensity of his emotions, whenever it does become overwhelming, whenever he's emotionally or mentally drained, that seems to be a trigger for his magic to intervene, to act like a sort of defence mechanism, since it's always been easier to simply let his magic take over, made that much more difficult, trying to fight the soothing lull in the back of his mind—always, always he feels too much, and with his tendency to worry, it was concerning enough that it became integrated into his dailies, usually part of the first set of questions, asking if he was worried, because at times it really did seem like there was no distinction between his magic and his emotions, as if he were caught in a loop, trapped in a relentless, continually distorting feedback.

But that was years ago. While the default state of his empathy hasn't really changed, at least with his life magic, it doesn't affect him to nearly the same extent anymore. He's worked hard to get where he is now, spent seemingly a lifetime practicing to better his control, to better his stamina in spite of his limited reserves. And, as long as he's mindful about it, he can get away with healing a wider range of injuries without the more immediate risk of being taken over by his magic.

All the holes and tears he can see in someone's life force, using his own to fill in any provisional dead space, it's a much more conscious process, one he feels confident enough to initiate and something he doesn't even have to second-guess himself about.

"Just let me see, Naruto. I haven't used my magic since yesterday, so I might as well use it to do this."

"Considering the kinds of situations you like to put me through, you don't need to use your magic at all. But I already told you. It doesn't even hurt that much. I can barely feel anything."

"You're saying that like it's actually a good thing."

"It's just a sprain. It'll go away."

"Give me your arm."

"If you're just going to force me into these things, the least you could do is work on your bedside manner."

"And if you're just going to keep complaining about it, the least you could do is hold still."

"Not if you're going to break it."

"I thought it was just a sprain?"

"It is. And I'm kind of trying to keep it that way."

"Then stop being such a baby already, and let me heal your wrist."

"I don't know why you can't just—"

"There. Was that so hard?"

"...you know, you keep saying it's because I was hurt, that's why you do it, but it's like I keep telling you, Sasuke. You don't need to waste your magic on me."

"But I'm not wasting my magic. Not if I'm using it to help you."

"Yeah, well...I still think it's really weird when your eyes do that."

Despite how much he's improved, technically, he's only allowed to use his magic in extenuating circumstances, and only as a last resort (preferably his shadow magic, to hide himself until he could find help), which is also one of the stipulations he agreed to, when he was given the opportunity to live on base with Itachi. At the same time, his healing magic is more or less an exception, around people considered safe at least, since that's public knowledge he can't hide from. His elemental abilities, however, he's not supposed to use those as freely, not without supervision, especially his shadow magic and the cloaking techniques his brother taught him, because if something were to happen, his brother's the only one who'd be able to find him.

Still, allowing him to do even this much, it's such a drastic change, compared to how little he'd been able to do before, and now that he actually gets to train, too...

Honestly, it wasn't something he thought his parents or his brother would revisit any time soon, if at all, although he knew better than to think he'd be doing anything remotely close to the kind of regimen Naruto follows.

The conditions are a little strict, in the sense of limiting how many hours he's allowed to dedicate to both physical and magical training each week, but it's nothing strenuous, since he still has his regular sessions with Iyashi.

Even with his fire magic, the focus has mostly remained on teaching him self-defence, anyway, revolved around much more subtle methods to distract and disarm, using an opponent's own moves and body weight against them, rather than the traditional offensive attacks often associated with fire users, keeping in line with the theme of mitigating unnecessary contact, alongside the continued push to steer him away from relying so heavily on his life magic.

It's still a last resort, though, in the event already established safety measures fall through. He couldn't even begin to understand the scope of what goes into implementing those safety measures, but he does know his brother, and he knows exactly how his brother gets, so there's a lot he's learned not to put past him.

And since his brother is the one who put this idea in motion, and because his brother is nothing if not a thorough person ("Itachi's paranoid, Sasuke. I think the word you're looking for here, is paranoid."), alongside his training came the stipulation that he would also have additional, more visible protection in the form of Neji and Sai.

Or, as Naruto's dubbed them, Shadow One and Shadow Two.

At first, it did seem like a kneejerk reaction, maybe even a little excessive, for his brother to assign not two people to personally watch over him, in response to what Orochimaru had done.

It wasn't that he didn't understand the reasoning behind it, nor did it necessarily come as a shock. His parents have their own security detail at home, alongside a team that travels with them, and it's a given for Kushina and Minato, who have heightened security, due to Minato's position. Even his brother isn't without some level of protection from time to time, now that he's no longer on active field duty, as more and more people begin to take notice of him, taking note of his rising popularity.

Growing up, it was already part of his environment, automatically extended to him by proxy, as he learned to recognise in the background glimpses of figures that'd mostly remain unseen, so it really wasn't anything new. He just never thought he'd be in a situation where the need for discrete protection would actually apply to him.

But Orochimaru became the catalyst for a lot of things, brought to the forefront issues he wasn't aware of before, probably the same issues no one would've told him about otherwise.

Despite how off-putting it'd been, to be on the receiving end of Orochimaru's lingering gaze, the blatant show of interest, how much Orochimaru seemed to know about him, about his magic and his empathy, simply the way Orochimaru had spoken to him, he still maintains that nothing would've happened because he'd already known Orochimaru wasn't going to do anything to him.

And he was right. Nothing happened.

And yet both Naruto and Kyuubi had been fuming when they found him, Kyuubi's magic already too close to the surface, as Naruto yanked him back, trying to hide him from Orochimaru's view.

When Orochimaru finally left, Naruto wouldn't leave his side, only told him to stay close. He wouldn't let anyone near them, either, not until their parents came, even refusing their chaperones, when they tried to question Naruto about what happened.

Of course, when their parents did arrive, after making sure they were both was okay, after making sure they were alone and assured privacy, it was Naruto they immediately turned to for answers, Naruto they listened to first, Naruto who got away with saying more than a few choice words, not holding back on any of it, relaying what he'd heard.

Never mind that Naruto only caught the tail end of a one-side conversation, because their parents were too focused on the kinds of things Naruto emphasised that Orochimaru didn't have a right to say. At the same time, though, their reactions were carefully muted, expressions tight, with so much left unspoken between them, a silent understanding that somehow included Naruto, too, that went straight over Sasuke's head, all of it seemingly intentional just because he was also in the room.

It was yet another discussion he wasn't part of, despite being the subject of said discussion, despite the fact that he'd actually been there and was the one Orochimaru had clearly taken an interest in.

Only after hearing Naruto's account, did they refer to him for his input to corroborate what Naruto had already said. There wasn't much more he could add, other than his attempts to convince them that he really was fine, but his parents were clear that they would revisit the discussion later, when they were back home, and with his brother there.

He didn't know what happened after his parents returned to the negotiations. He didn't know the full extent of the political backlash Orochimaru's actions might've caused. But he knows enough now to piece together that then it was the sort of disruption neither the Alliance nor the Federation could afford, an incident both parties quickly moved to cover up, to prevent it from blowing up into the sideshow of a scandal it surely would've been.

Despite the longstanding history of animosity between the Alliance and the Federation, despite the misgivings that arose when the Federation first proposed the idea of having peace summits, the host of questionable characters involved, supposedly with intention of learning more about the magic user community, there were members from the Federation who actually were acting in good faith, and genuinely did want to better relations with the Alliance.

However, if word got out about what Orochimaru did, the fallout from the sheer optics of that would've led to an absolute media frenzy, and those efforts to put together the first peace summit, essentially a trial run to gauge the future of diplomacy between the two largest government entities, there ran the risk those efforts would've been in vain.

More likely than not, considering how eager the Federation had been to grant Orochimaru's request for political asylum, Orochimaru had probably been counting on the Federation's overall reluctance to censure him, and obviously had no trouble taking advantage of it.

How brazen Orochimaru had been, the implied nature of the things Orochimaru had said to him, much less how inappropriate it was for an adult to approach a thirteen year old alone, even Federation officials couldn't believe Orochimaru would be so bold, and thought Orochimaru's actions worse, when coupled with the complete lack of humility; there were even some who had openly expressed no small amount of concern, albeit just strongly worded concern that didn't directly address the issue, and offered no viable follow-up to dissuade Orochimaru from making the same so-called mistake again.

Though at the time he didn't fully comprehend the reasons why, he already knew how angry Naruto was, how angry even Kyuubi was, and it didn't take his empathy to know his parents were angry, too, even if they'd been careful not to allow that anger to show. He didn't need anybody to tell him that, but it would've been helpful if someone told him what the problem surrounding Orochimaru actually was, instead of speaking over him, and already deciding there was nothing he really needed to be told.

"But why were you and Kyuubi so angry?"

"Because it wasn't right, Sasuke. That bastard had no business being near you, no business talking about you like that, talking to you the way he did, like he—like he owned you or something, treating you like he was actually going to..."

"...what aren't you telling me about Orochimaru, Naruto? Why is it that you get to know and I don't?"

"There's nothing for me to tell. Orochimaru's the bad guy. That's it. What else do you need to know?"

With what little he eventually did manage to get out of Naruto, it certainly raised more questions than answers, about the current political atmosphere, his own reservations about what it meant for him as a life user, and the unwanted attention he continued to receive because of it.

According to what Naruto also told him, while their dads were already walking a fine line, limited by the level of authority they held, and the perception of how they'd use that power in their positions, their moms had raised hell, and drove much of the tone in the conversations that followed, even renegotiating the terms of authorised participation by members of both the Alliance and the Federation.

Apart from the Federation's overt interest in having him attend the peace summit, the other prevailing factor behind why his parents had initially been so adamant in their refusal to allow him to go, what had reinforced whatever red flags already that interest raised, was the fact that Itachi, despite being such a highly regarded figure within the Alliance, despite the very strong political ties he'd made on his own, of all people, Itachi hadn't been extended an invitation.

Clearly, that hadn't been an oversight. In fact, it was part of the terms eventually agreed upon, the same terms that had been more or less demanded by the Federation, in order to move forward with the peace summit at all. From the outside, viewed by the general public and taken at face value, it was an offer the Alliance couldn't afford to refuse, effectively putting them in a corner, with almost no leverage to use.

Itachi hadn't been pleased about the situation then, and there was no doubt in his mind that his brother would be the furthest thing from pleased after learning what Orochimaru had tried to do to him.

Keeping him safe, that was something his brother had always taken seriously, something that had always been a priority; the situation by itself was already going to upset him, but it wouldn't be the only thing. He'd probably be a little upset with himself, too, for his inability to prevent it from happening, even if there was nothing more he could've possibly done, and although it's doubtful Itachi would actually admit something like that to him, Sasuke already understood enough about his brother and knew that some part of Itachi probably would take it personally.

Just like he already knew how upset his brother was going to be about him not listening to what he'd been explicitly told to do.

Honestly, he wasn't looking forward to that particular exchange with his brother, because as soon as he returned the Capital, after waiting for the moment his brother arrived home, the very first thing his brother did, was ask why he didn't stay with Naruto.

Against the beginning of any protest, too easily, his brother could quiet him, with no words, with one look, could admonish him, convey such a staunch sense of disappointment despite the lack of expression on his face.

Not for the first time, Itachi told him he was too old for excuses, told him he was old enough to know better, because someone like him couldn't afford to continue engaging in such irresponsible behaviour.

"We have these safety measures in place for a reason. We don't tell you to do things out of some baseless rationale. What we tell you to do is for your own sake, Sasuke, in order to protect you, to keep you safe. That's all we're trying to do."

"Nii-san, I wasn't—"

"But what good does it do, to implement those safety measures, to even have safety protocols at all, if you don't follow them, as well?"

And yet all it took was a single name to disrupt his brother's usual display of calm, the simple mention of Orochimaru, that inspired a silent fury in his brother's eyes—never before had he seen his brother so angry, if only for a passing moment, his gaze almost chilling, a cold utterly detached from the familiar warmth of his brother's magic.

Whatever it is about Orochimaru, whatever it is that even now no one will tell him, although it's clearly enough to concern seemingly everyone around him, he still can't be sure it's enough to justify having his own personal bodyguards, because sometimes it does seem like Neji and Sai are just glorified babysitters.

Yet his brother's not the impulsive type. And he's not known for short-term thinking, either. He wouldn't make this sort of decision on a whim, not if he truly felt it necessary, and especially not in regards to anything involving him or Naruto.

That being said, a decision of this magnitude, he can't overstate the significance of Neji and Sai being introduced into his life, handpicked by his brother, two strangers, for all intents and purposes, his brother willingly entrusting him to their care, bringing them into this tiny little circle of people he knows, the only people who've ever been established as safe.

Similar to the situation with Sakura, that kind of decision doesn't just affect his wellbeing. It affects Naruto's, too.

As kids, their parents never could seem to stress enough the importance of them knowing their safe adults; it was drilled enough into their heads, knowing around which people they could say or do certain things, because those adults were the select few who knew about his elemental magic, about Naruto and Kyuubi, alongside his apparent connection to them both.

Their parents hadn't been surprised by Itachi's decision, though, considering how quickly Neji and Sai were integrated into their lives, so he suspected it was something that had already been in the works, something they all agreed on well before he even came across Orochimaru. It had to be, because even Naruto was thrown off at first, despite how easily Naruto could tease him about it.

When he tried to ask his parents why there was suddenly a need to give him his own protection detail when he already spent most of his time indoors, he was given the usual cop out, told it was to help keep him safe, to protect him in ways they no longer could.

Predictably, his brother was no better, if not worse; he wouldn't confirm or deny anything, simply said it'd be a prudent step, given the circumstances, and would serve in his best interest moving forward.

The purposely veiled answers weren't so unexpected, practically part of the job description, and it wasn't like he'd have a say about whether or not he needed his own personal minders; since appealing for a more permanent station in Nagi, though, his brother became the foremost authority in regards to most matters pertaining to his safety, with their parents actually deferring to him pretty often for input.

(There are just some things—most things, really—he knows he can't argue against, things that don't even need to be said, and he's learned it's usually better to accept certain constraints, what he ultimately can't change, for all the good it does asking questions in the face of his brother's quiet, near impenetrable stare, because in the end, even with someone there to listen, it doesn't really matter what he thinks.)

Getting used to having Neji and Sai around so often, it wasn't the most seamless transition, but seeing how much his brother seemed to trust them, that was more than enough for him.

In that context, he knows it isn't fair to think of Neji and Sai as glorified babysitters, even if they do escort him to his biweekly appointments with Iyashi, and were taught how to give him dailies, know what to look for and what to do, if for some reason he were to have another episode.

They're actually both highly skilled magic users, S-ranked, in fact, not only on par with Itachi, but apparently close enough to be considered more than just Itachi's colleagues, maybe even going so far as to say they're the closest thing resembling Itachi actually having friends—Naruto's exaggerated theories about the people in Itachi's inner circle aside.

(Vaguely, he remembers hearing their names somewhere in passing, more than a couple times, during those days he used to complain to his brother about how much Shisui liked to tease him, when he used to follow them, demand they allow him to play with them, too, while he kept to himself his worry about his brother liking Shisui better, that ridiculously stupid, stupid, childish fear of Shisui one day taking his place—those days the three of them would spend time in the family's private gardens, watching the sun fall below the horizon, as he fell asleep in his brother's arms, as his brother and Shisui spoke softly over him, mentions of the names Neji and Sai in conversations probably not meant for his ears.)

He's not necessarily privy to his brother's social life, or the kind of company his brother keeps, but he knows Neji and Sai are both around Itachi's age, knows the three of them attended Nagi's academy, and continued to train together, following their official enlistment in the military.

And, just like with his brother, he doesn't know what Neji and Sai do exactly, either, although he has the presence of mind to know it's probably much more intricate than whatever formal designations his brother seems to go through, much more than the purported pencil pusher or desk jockey position a lot of people seem to think Itachi settled for.

Having Neji and Sai around really isn't so bad, though. Not much of his routine has changed, and he's been able to carry on with most things as usual. If anything, he has more leeway with Neji and Sai around, so giving up what little privacy he did have is a small price to pay, especially if it means he gets the opportunity to stay on base more often, which also means getting more time to spend with his brother and Naruto.

Normally, it's either Neji or Sai with him, alternating on seemingly random days, and busying themselves with whatever they bring along with them. Most of the time is filled with comfortable silence, aside from periodic checks on him, if they happen to be in different rooms, although they're never too far away from him wherever he is. And he doesn't mind the lack of interaction, because they don't really have much in common; he's under no illusion why Neji are Sai are here, why his brother personally assigned them to watch over him, but that that doesn't mean they don't speak to him at all.

Between the two of them, Neji is more aloof, not really one for casual conversation, and that's fine. He prefers to keep to himself, tends to keep whatever conversations they do have short and to the point, and even resists Naruto's persistent attempts to convince him to show off his water techniques.

(Then again, Naruto somehow managed to get Neji to open up about his younger cousin, Hinata, what little Neji has said about her, yet still revealing how very much he does care for her, although maybe that's just a testament to how difficult it really is to resist someone as outgoing and charismatic as Naruto.)

What's interesting, though, is that Neji hails from the Hyuuga family, recognised as one of the big families, known for having very powerful water elementals, long established as one of the most influential names within the magic user community and within the Alliance.

Like the Uchiha, the Hyuuga have a very detailed and colourful history that's just as old, predating even the first Great War; there's even been speculation that they may have shared some distant ancestors and actually had a very close relationship, during the time when the Uchiha were known as Uchiwa, right before the first magic users appeared.

Where they began to drift, whether it was a gradual shift, out of necessity for survival, or simply due to plain pride and arrogance, although there have been numerous theories, there's no confirmed documentation. However, the relationship is too far removed to matter in the grand scheme of things now, other than a natural sense of competition that inevitably comes with being able to wield that sort of political influence for such a long time.

From that standpoint, it does seem a little unlikely his brother and Neji would become so close, or maybe that was the point. With them both being prodigies from already prestigious families, maybe that was what brought together, where they found common ground.

It's not like he would know.

Sai, on the other hand, though, he's much more accommodating, and is typically the one to initiate any conversation. He's a shadow user, too, one of the few Sasuke knows, as unusual as that already is on its own, so there's probably some bias involved.

Sai's also less guarded about revealing some of his techniques, and it really is interesting to see multiple applications of shadow magic, and the wide variation between different shadow users, especially given how rare shadow magic is.

(Granted, he only knows of three shadow users, so it's not the optimum sample size, if it could even be called that, but it's still a pretty remarkable range, considering.)

Aside from the fact his brother's a shadow user, what truly makes shadow magic so fascinating, is that it's all about perception. Or, in terms of light magic, it's about manipulating the visible plane of sight. That's what Itachi taught him, why there's still such a prevalent stigma attached to being a shadow user, much more than any other magic user, simply because it's natural for people to fear the unknown.

His brother's cloaking technique probably exemplifies that exact fear, the ability to conceal an entire object or an entire person in shadow, to literally remove something or someone from the visible plane of existence. He used to think it was the most amazing thing when he was younger (maybe a part of him still does), before his very eyes, watching his brother's hand disappear, reaching out to hold it, with his own hand too small, blindly reaching for his brother's hand to squeeze it, watching in awe as his brother's fingers slowly began to reappear.

Naruto's the one who told him about Shikamaru having shadow magic; being part of the same squad for the past two years, they've gotten really close, so Naruto talks about him a lot, as much as he talks about the others, too.

(Naruto's never been shy about their relationship. Even if he wanted to, Naruto couldn't hide it, and Sasuke knew there was bound to be some interest in him.

He actually hasn't met any of Naruto's team in person, but Naruto gradually introduced them during a series of video calls, and they've been eager to meet him properly ever since, joking it's because of how much Naruto likes to brag about him.

They've all been nice enough so far, without being overbearing, seemingly interested in getting to know more about him as a person, having not once brought up the subject of his life magic, although he's sure Naruto probably had a hand in that.)

With Shikamaru's magic, his shadow imitation technique gives him the ability to merge his shadow with another person's, for a short period of time, allowing him to the bind that person's movements to his own. Compared to Itachi's cloaking technique, the two are seemingly worlds apart, and although Sasuke hasn't had the opportunity to see Shikamaru's technique for himself, Naruto said it's really impressive see in action, but that it's also a really good thing a genius like Shikamaru is so lazy.

Sai's technique, however, involves bringing shadows to life. Honestly, it did sound a little unbelievable at first, when Sai told him, hard to conceive in his mind, at least until Sai actually showed him.

He's only seen Sai use it a handful of times, each time a fleeting instance, and not enough for him to properly absorb it, which limits how quickly he's able to emulate someone else's technique. Still, it really is sort of incredible, even seeing only a fraction of what Sai's able to do, watching a shadow play of dark puppets crawling along the wall, or watching come alive the small animals drawn in one of Sai's sketchbooks, abstract images of darkly outlined figures, in disjointed motions, actually lifting themselves from the pages.

"It's creepy, that's what it is. Seriously. Almost as creepy as when your eyes go all wide and do the whole white and glowy thing."

"It's just Sai's shadow magic. You don't say the same things about Itachi using his shadow magic."

"Actually, I do."

"..."

"Okay, well, maybe not the exact same things, but we both know I still say a lot about the things your brother does. Which is not the point. The point is, I don't see what's so interesting about Shadow Number Two. He's no Itachi or anything."

"Well, no, Sai's not like my brother. I didn't say he was, but, since he is going to be around..."

"Yeah, yeah, I got all that already. What I don't get, is why you're suddenly interested in him so much, why he's suddenly all you ever seem to talk about lately. I mean, even when it's just the two of us, it's always Sai said this, or Sai did that, just because he's a shadow user, and you keep—"

"Why I'm suddenly—who else am I supposed to talk to, then? Who else do you think I can talk to about any of this? Who else...I'm not like you—I'll never be like you. All the things you still get to do, all the people you get to talk to, I can't just go out whenever I want and..."

"Sasuke, I didn't mean it like..."

"You're not always here, Naruto. You can't be, but I already know that. I already know you're not going to be there all the time, and that's why I don't expect you to."

"But it's not like I wouldn't be here all the time if I could, you know, not if I—"

"I know. It's fine. Really. I'm not blaming you for it. That's just what it is."

"...doesn't make it right, though."

"...yeah, maybe."

Having someone else to talk to about his magic, better yet, having another person on his side he can actually somewhat relate to, Naruto can't get upset with him for that. And maybe now Naruto would finally understand how he felt about Sakura, all those times when seemingly every conversation they had centred on how much Naruto could talk about her—how strong she was with her earth magic, how good she was at close combat, how cool it was that she knew how to use both her curved daggers at the same time, how really pretty she was with her pretty green eyes and her pretty, pretty pink hair.

On and on, like Sakura was the only person Naruto could see, even though Sasuke was the one in front of him, even when he was already standing right there.

(Back then, it wasn't that he disliked her. He just didn't appreciate having to share Naruto's attention.

He did like Sakura. He actually liked her a lot. Even if his brother hadn't been the one to introduce her, even if he hadn't already been assured he could trust her, even now, he knows he still would've gravitated towards her.

And maybe it was because he was only nine at the time, and a lot more impressionable at that age, but there was something about her that his magic had responded to, almost immediately, this strange feeling, like something he used to know, couldn't quite remember, from the moment they met, something about her presence, her magic, that somehow seemed both old and familiar.

Because that day he burned his hand with his fire magic, burned enough through his skin to expose bone, when Naruto took him to find Sakura, as Sasuke's hand continued to heal, and Sakura kneeled in front of him, gently asked if he'd let her take him to the hospital, when she carefully picked him up, and he raised his healed hand to touch her cheek, even on the verge of falling unconscious, so easily had he reached out with his empathy, instinctively trying to soothe her.)

But the way Naruto used to fawn over Sakura, nearly tripping over his feet, every time he rushed after her, it was the first time Sasuke had to confront the reality that he wouldn't always have Naruto to himself, when he first began to realise, at any given moment, one day Naruto could just choose to walk away.

He didn't believe Naruto would, because Naruto had already promised he'd always be there, and Naruto didn't go back on his promises. For the longest time, Naruto was the only friend he had. For the longest time, Naruto was the only friend he needed.

But Naruto wasn't like him. Naruto didn't have to share his attention with anyone else, because he wasn't Naruto's only friend. He was just the one Naruto got stuck with.

If it weren't for their moms being so close, Naruto probably wouldn't have crossed paths with him, probably wouldn't even have given him a second thought. They already had so little in common, even less with Naruto being older, further separated by Naruto having magic. If it weren't for that day Naruto touched his shoulder, inadvertently setting off his empathy, setting off a series of events that inevitably did bring them closer, maybe they wouldn't have been friends at all.

That's why Naruto doesn't have a right to complain about him talking to Sai so much, about him wanting to build more relationships on his own, however seemingly superficial, as long as it's not a relationship determined by someone being within the scope of who Naruto knows.

Gone are the days he'd look to Naruto for all the answers to his questions, the days he used to hang on Naruto's every word, waiting for Naruto to fill in the blanks of a life he was forced to leave behind, a life he could no longer be part of, craving even the smallest little connection to a world that seemingly overnight grew outside his reach.

Or maybe he's just pretending his entire existence hasn't been whittled down to moments like this, moments faded away between clarity, that make it easier to believe he hasn't become so wholly dependent on Naruto for any hope of continued stability in a life that doesn't even feel like his own.

But Naruto's still Naruto. He's always been Naruto—will always be Naruto, and nothing will ever change that. No one will ever change that, because there's no one who could ever take Naruto's place.

He'll concede Naruto was right about one thing, though. He and Sai have been talking a lot more lately, but that doesn't mean they're friends. They're not. Nowhere near close.

Despite the relaxed nature of their conversations, he knows better than to get too comfortable around Sai, because he knows Sai is ultimately here on assignment, the same as with Neji, appointed to watch over him by a senior officer, and whatever else their appointment probably entails.

In turn, whatever he says to Sai or Neji, if it's anything either one of them deems concerning, he knows that information will be reported to his brother, regardless of how he may feel about it. Since the onset of his empathy, there's been very little in the way of privacy, very little of his own personal experiences he's had the luxury of keeping to himself—for his sake, as he's often reminded, although the expectation of privacy, even the mere concept of it, seems like some long forgone notion, no matter how hard he tries to hold on to it.

(Even during his sessions with Iyashi, even for such seemingly simple things, because the standards for him are broader, there's no guarantee of confidentially.)

But he expected no less. And Sai told him as much.

"I can't say I don't appreciate you being so forthcoming, as informative as these conversations have been, but you do realise I'm not here in that sort of capacity, don't you?"

"Aren't you the one usually asking me questions?"

"I suppose that is true. Does it bother you?"

"I don't really mind. I guess it just comes down to whether you're asking me out of curiosity, or if you're trying to get a better understanding of how to do your job more effectively."

"A little bit of both, perhaps. Yet it's interesting, I find, given the apparent effects of your empathy, how quickly you came to that conclusion."

"Why?"

"Despite the impression from having such a highly sensitive nature, you really are more astute than what most people would probably take you to be from your appearance alone."

He's learned not to put too much stock into what Sai says, because Sai wouldn't be Sai if he didn't create those awkward moments by being so painfully blunt, often bordering on offensive; at this point, however, it's a tossup as to whether or not Sai's doing it on purpose, saying certain things just to get a reaction.

He'll admit it can be a little much at times, with Sai being more observant than he'd like, even if that's part of what Sai's obligated to do. While it makes sense that Sai has to pay attention to him, sometimes it feels like Sai studies him a little too intently, watches both him and Naruto with this vague sense of knowing, which is another reason Naruto thinks Sai is weird, but Naruto also thinks Sai is entirely too straightforward about a lot of unnecessary things, while somehow completely missing the irony of him making that kind of accusation.

Sai does initiate the bulk of their conversations, though, and doesn't necessarily expect a verbal response. Surprisingly, he likes to talk about what's currently happening on base, likes to keep him updated on harmless gossip, not just to pass the time, but also to get his opinion, so he doesn't mind listening, if only because he appreciates having some sort of awareness of his surroundings.

What Sai tells him isn't anything to write home about, definitely nothing he's not supposed to know. There's no way Sai would slip up and pass along that kind of information, even if it's not classified, because if Itachi decides there's something Sasuke doesn't need to know, he won't be told. And that's the end of it.

At the same time, though, it's not an unwelcome change of pace. It really is easy talking to Sai, almost a relief, being able to speak a little more freely about his empathy and his magic, without having to worry too much about any possible repercussions, without having to wonder whether or not he's being psychoanalysed for seemingly the slightest little thing.

In a weird way, he doesn't feel as much pressure speaking about how his empathy affects him, doesn't feel as if Sai's simply waiting for the day he'll inevitably fall apart, and maybe even that's because Sai wasn't there during the worst of his episodes.

It helps that Sai's actually sincere whenever he does ask questions about him, despite how frank he tends to be when he thinks out loud, and yet it doesn't come across as intrusive, much more an idle fascination, because there are definitely boundaries Sai respects and hasn't tried to cross.

(It's nearly the opposite of what it felt like to be around Orochimaru, so very unsettling, being the object of that level of obsession, and though at the time he hadn't found Orochimaru intimidating, having already known Orochimaru wasn't going to hurt him, he still recognised that Orochimaru was intentionally trying to manipulate his empathy, in an attempt to coerce him, trying to force his own emotions onto him, far too eager in his attempts to create the sense that his being a life user somehow meant Orochimaru was entitled to have him.)

Alongside the questions about his empathy and his magic, including his ability to pick up on life signatures, Sai likes to ask about his relationship with Naruto, seemingly trying to figure out their connection and what differentiates someone like Naruto from everyone else. The subject of Kyuubi in particular seems to pique Sai's interest, which isn't so unexpected, considering Kyuubi's one of the ancient tailed beasts, although there's not much Sasuke's either willing or able to tell, because it isn't his place to do so.

Yet, however discerning Sai's been when it comes to him, there's very little he'll reveal about himself, where he comes from, his family name, or even anything related to whatever history he has with Itachi.

And it's not for lack of trying because he's tried. Many times. Between Naruto and him, trying to get a straight answer out of Sai, they've both tried so many times.

"Judging by the lack of disappointment in your expression, I'm assuming the fact Naruto won't able to visit later today has nothing do with why you've decided to approach me."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

Sai mirrored the gesture in response.

Breathing in, slowly, Sasuke counted to two, making it to three, before letting out a small sigh. "Being forced to stay home isn't exactly a choice," he said. "And since this is usually the time you'd come to check on me, anyway, Naruto not being able to leave the dorms doesn't have anything to do with it."

"I see." Sai blinked, sparing a quick glance to his PCD held upright, propped by a small stand on the table, having earlier been set it to the side to make room for the braised tofu steaks he'd had for a late lunch. "Does that mean there's something you intend to ask me, then?"

"You and Neji knew my brother before you went the Academy," Sasuke said, peering at Sai from over the rim of the large mug he was holding in both hands. It wasn't quite an accusation, but neither was it a question, because Sai could be aggravatingly particular with the things he chose to say, just like Itachi.

"Many people knew of your brother before we attended the Academy, I should think," Sai said, "although it's flattering you'd believe Neji and I bear any significance for sharing that common distinction."

Sasuke felt his left eye twitch a little, but he was mature enough that he wouldn't give Sai the satisfaction of anything more. He wasn't going to give in to the kind of reaction Sai seemed to easily draw from Naruto.

Instead, he switched tactics, putting on a carefully crafted air of nonchalance as he lowered his mug, carefully setting it down on the table. "How long have you known Itachi?"

Slowly, the corners of Sai's mouth began to lift. Slightly leaned forward, Sai brought his elbows to the table, head titled a little to the side, as he raised his hands in front of him, fingers laced together, where he lightly rested his chin.

"Oh, how long I've known the commander," he said, eyes closed, yet the amusement clear in his voice, carved around too composed a smile, the kind of stilted expression that really should've been more off-putting, except it was something that didn't even faze Sasuke anymore.

"Yes, I've known him for quite some time."

Anything that has to do with Sai's personal life, those kinds of conversations prove to be a road that leads to nowhere, although he's increasingly inclined to agree with Naruto, that the way Sai tends to handle said conversations could only prove Sai and Itachi can't be anything but really, really good friends.

Sai may not effect the same sort of calm demeanour as his brother, but he definitely shares the same exasperating habit of circumventing even direct questions with non-answers.

"I don't want to be the one to say it, but this isn't like with Neji. Without knowing Sai's weakness, if he even has a weakness, we need to focus on coming up with a new strategy against something so highly effective."

"A strategy."

"Yeah, to work around a turn-based combat system. It's just a little harder having to adjust with my normal fighting style in this genre, since I'm so used to going all out and with the advantage of attacking whenever I want. But Sai's counterattack..."

"Sai's...counterattack?"

"It's too strong, Sasuke."

"...that's not the right response to this situation."

"It's too strong."

There is one thing, however, that he did discover about Sai, something he doubts even Sai realises he knows.

To anyone paying attention, it's not hard to notice. Sai normally carries two or three small books with him, seemingly at random, between a wide variety of short novels and different sketchbooks, but rarely appearing consecutively with the same book twice—save for the one he always seems to carry around without fail.

Granted, he can only speak to the times when he does see Sai, which is actually pretty often, but it's still obvious that particular book is important to him, even if Sai refuses to acknowledge or even refute whatever significance the book holds.

When he asked Sai about the book, Sai simply called it a product of habit, with his usual, almost stilted smile, said it was a picture book that's somehow remained empty over the years.

"It's a blank picture book."

"Yes. Because it hasn't been written yet."

Sai didn't volunteer to say more, and Sasuke decided to leave it at that, because he had no reason not to believe him.

Or, he would've dropped the issue, since it really wasn't his business to pry, except there was something about the book he was struggling to put his finger on, something that probably wouldn't have meant anything on its own, save for the fact that his magic seemed drawn to it—similar to the way his magic had been drawn to Sanchez that day, held him still, compelled him to look, in that one moment, so very brief, when he'd looked at Sanchez with his life magic, with his eyes wide, eyes white, in the middle of his uncle's gala, the first time he realised he could actually tell when another person was dying.

Whatever it was tying Sai to the empty picture book, while he didn't think it was on the same level of being able to gauge the state of someone's life force, it did, however, eventually lead him to discover another apparent manifestation of his magic.

Like most incidents involving different aspects of his magic, it wasn't intentional. Discovering it happened by chance.

One day, the picture book was lying on the small kitchen table, too close to the edge, where Sai had left it, after he left to take a call in Itachi's office.

And he remembers because he was going over the homework assignments Naruto let him borrow, trying to fit in a quick snack, before he had to go back to the Capital, to spend the rest of the week with his parents.

At first glance, the book looked like nothing special, hardbound, coloured a nondescript black, small and thin, more like one of those old-fashioned journals that were getting popular again.

He wasn't even paying attention to it. He was reading Naruto's notes, following scribbled words all but scrunched along the margins of printed text, while absently picking apart the rest of his sandwich, not even pausing mid-chew when Sai's book suddenly slipped off the table.

He didn't think when he started reaching for it, couldn't have imagined touching a book with his hand bared would've made any sort of difference, because it was more of a hassle to wear his gloves while eating, when he was home and didn't have to; having to wear gloves mostly applied toward to his proximity to people he wasn't used to, people he didn't consider safe, and his parents weren't as strict about it as they used to be.

A brief glance near his foot showed the book was lying on the floor, revealing only blank pages fallen open that still appeared new, showing no visible signs of use.

At the same time, however, he felt a growing part of himself being drawn toward it, an urge steadily increasing, his magic responding with a familiar lull in the back of his mind, as he continued to lean closer, yet as he reached with his hand to pick it up, as soon as he touched the book, somehow, he could feel it—suddenly felt all of it, eyes grown wide, vision bled through greys, nearly dropping the book because there was so much of it, surrounding him, harrowing the sensation, an onslaught of emotions that weren't his own, seemingly enclosed from all around him, so very poignant, the utter sense of los—

He all but flung the book on the table, sat still against the back of his chair, lips trembling, as colours abruptly cut through the greys. Realising he was gripping too tight at the cuff of his sleeve, quickly, he moved to dry his eyes with the back of his hand.

And then he remembered one of the exercises Iyashi taught him, remembered to keep his own emotions in, remembered to keep everything else out—remembered to breathe.

It couldn't have lasted long, no more than a minute, if even that. Sai was still in Itachi's office and hadn't moved, not as far as he could tell. When Sai did start making his way back to kitchen, by then, Sasuke had managed to snap himself out of the moment, had calmed enough to finish his sandwich, wash his hands, and put his gloves back on, carry on as if none of it even happened.

As long as Sai had been speaking to Itachi, it was more than enough time.

Although if Sai noticed his book wasn't in the same position where he'd left it, he didn't say anything when he asked if Sasuke was ready to go.

That was only a few weeks ago, and he's still trying to process not only what happened, but also how his empathy could seemingly be affected by a book.

Given his shields, which he can confidently say are probably much stronger than even those among more powerful, high-ranking magic users (they have to be), whatever it is about Sai's book that he'd been drawn to, the only reason it hit him so hard, was because he hadn't been prepared for it; even with his particular brand of empathy that stands him apart, he couldn't have possibly expected simply touching a book could've triggered any kind of response.

Within the context of empathy specifically defined between magic users, as far as he knows, as far as anyone knows, extrasensory perception, in the physical sense, doesn't exist.

Their empathy is a response to the emotions of another magic user, not inanimate objects. Considering how many improbable theories are already out there, still being treated as fact, even without documented research, if there was anything to even substantiate the possibility of that kind of telepathy, he wants to think he would've come across it by now.

As a magic user, having empathy simply means being more receptive to emotions, and sensitivity has more so been established as a tool to help gauge magical ability; outside that, any more has been written off as conjecture. Apparently, only life users have the ability to actually feel the full extent of someone else's emotions. Even his brother and Naruto, with their exceedingly high levels of empathy, as strong as they both are, what may come across as a gentle warmth to them, in no way compares to the intensity of emotions his own empathy once gave him no choice but to feel.

Normally, he would've told Iyashi about it by now, probably should've told him that very day, since that's what he's supposed to do. Any new developments with his empathy of his magic, he's old enough now that he's trusted to be responsible enough not to keep those kinds of things to himself anymore.

Except there's something about it, something about his magic's response to Sai's book, however disconcerting, that made him hesitate to tell anyone. Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe it was a delayed reaction to something else, because he still doesn't know if there's anything to tell.

But then it happened again, last week even, while he was with Tenten, during one of their meets at the Academy's library.

Instead of a book, though, it was Tenten's old toy, decorated with white characters, faded among streaks of dulled blues and gold coiled along its six sides, a black, metal spinner top she was given when she was around five or six, while she was staying in the Traids on Baruoki, because her parents had been temporarily assigned there, to study deposits of a rare mineral ore; she'd found the top in one the boxes she'd been putting off for the longest time to unpack, the boxes filled with her parents' belongings she couldn't bring herself to throw away.

And she only thought to show him the top because one of the texts they were going through reminded her of the short time she spent living in the Traids, the scene of the local communities there, and one of the festivals her parents took her to.

She couldn't remember any specifics, but the impression overall had stayed with her, the colours and imagery she could still see vividly.

"I don't remember much, but there was just something about it that seemed...flowy. Yeah, everything was really flowy, I guess you could say—even the clothes everyone was wearing. I remember lots of blues, too. And there was this one lady, the fortune teller my parents bought the top from, I remember walking up to her, and just staring at her every time she moved, because of the way her clothes seemed to move with her, the way the fabric fell over her, like waves, you know.

"I mean, Baruoki was claimed as Federation years ago, so I doubt I'll ever get a chance to go back to the Traids any time soon, but I wonder if...

"Or do you think I'm just being too sentimental about the past?"

"Is that why you always like to say you could've been a fortune teller?"

"...yeah. I know I joke about it a lot, really, and it's...well, I can't even remember that lady's name—go figure—but when she showed me how me to tell fortunes with this, I just thought it was the coolest thing ever, and even though my parents had always been big on the hard sciences, there were so many times they'd ask me to read them their fortunes, and they'd encourage me to keep trying, even when their fortunes didn't always come true, but I still couldn't..."

She said she'd started to carry the top with her more often, that it made her feel more comfortable because in some ways it almost felt like her parents were still with her.

On that day, she also offered to read his fortune, said it was just for fun.

And for the same reasons he didn't mind his empathy subconsciously responding to her, during those instances when she'd get that faraway look in her eyes, when she'd open up to him about memories of her parents it seemed she was trying not to forget, that he agreed to let her read his fortune.

She asked him to hold out his gloved palm, where she then placed the top, laying it horizontally across his palm, and closed his fingers over it, placing her hand over his.

It was only then that he felt it, a slight pull from the back of his mind, his magic being drawn toward that same something, like with Sai's book yet much more faint, that sudden, pervasive sense of loss, before she gently uncurled his fingers, picking up the top by its thin handle and removing the it from his palm.

"This is always the hardest part," she murmured, place the top upright on the table and giving it a slow, measured spin. "I have to remove the top just fast enough, or the energies get too muddled to read correctly. The rest is a secret, though."

He didn't feel any particular way about it, because something like that was already arbitrary in nature, but he still watched, almost mesmerised by how long the top actually continued to spin, how engrossed Tenten seemed by it, too, eyes slightly narrowed, nearly frowning when the top eventually stopped, falling on one of its sides.

After seemingly too long a silence between them, finally, she looked up and said, "...four, and then two, three."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not sure? But since I offered already thinking I knew enough about you, without having to ask anything else, I don't...

"Actually, if you don't mind me asking, Sasuke, are you a magic user?"

He blinked once, twice. "Yes."

"Oh." Calmly, she took the top from the table and placed it back in the side pocket of her bag, absently closing the zipper. "I guess that it explains it, then, why those numbers kept coming up and why I couldn't get a feel for anything past sixteen."

"You didn't know?"

"Considering I'm not even a magic user, was I supposed to have known? That's only a thing between magic users, right? Not to mention, I thought it was considered sort of rude to just ask about that kind of thing."

"No, I mean...all this time, and you don't know who I am?"

Honestly, even though he'd only introduced himself by his first name, which wasn't necessarily that common, he still thought it was obvious, if only because of the strong features in his family, how often he'd been told how similar in looks he was to his brother. He'd already become so used to being recognised as the life user from the Uchiha family or Uchiha Itachi's little brother, used to the poorly hidden glances, if not sometimes outright gawking, whenever he did go out in public, that he just assumed she'd known who he was when they first met.

And yet, somehow, despite all the stir it'd caused when word got out about his increased visits on base, despite their shared interest in magic lore, the thought of him being a magic user never crossed her mind, much less the connection to his family, or the possibility of him being related to Uchiha Itachi.

Then again, when they first met, it wasn't long after Tenten had lost her parents, so of course she'd be more preoccupied reeling from being suddenly forced on her own at sixteen, rather than caught up in the unnecessary attention placed on him simply for being a life user.

(Highly proficient in weapons, she said she applied to Nagi's academy specifically for the weapons support track, because it was something tangible in an area where she knew she could do well. Determined to get into one of the best academies throughout the Alliance, she wanted to help create a world where other people didn't have to end up like her.

"Wanting to come to Nagi, I know it's kind of strange, especially since it seems like everyone here has magic, but after my parents died, I decided I don't just want to be someone good in this world—I want to actually be able to do something good in it, you know.")

When he did tell her who he was, however, she responded with a genuine surprise that actually surprised him, too, because it served just as much an unwanted reflection of how he'd inadvertently come to see himself and how much of that he'd taken for granted.

"No way. You really are…you're Uchiha Sasuke?" she whispered, before abruptly drawing away, nearly rocking back on her chair, before she again leaned forward, crossing her arms and laying them on the table. "As in related to the Uchiha Itachi, you're Uchiha Sasuke?"

"You really didn't know?"

"That you're related to Commander Uchiha?" Tenten gave a sheepish sort of smile, tucking behind her ear long strands of brown hair loose from one of her messy buns. "I guess the resemblance is there, if you're looking for it. And it makes a lot of sense, if you think about it, especially looking back on everything. But, considering you're the only other person I know actually crazy enough to take up studying magic lore as a hobby, that was already enough for me—that's what made it so easy to talk to you at first, I think."

The fact that she hadn't been paying more attention (didn't even think to ask him why he was constantly wearing gloves and long-sleeved shirts during the summer), while she admitted she probably should've take more notice, she didn't seem all too bothered by it. She didn't apologise for it, either, just went back to the text they were looking through, what had initially prompted their discussion about water users, back to what they mostly do during their meets-ups: try to piece together remnants of generational magic lore scattered among different cultures.

It was a pivotal moment in their relationship, when he truly began to consider her as a friend, and not just someone he could bounce ideas off.

After revealing who he was, having to acknowledge it out loud between them, it actually was kind of nice, similar to the sort relief he felt as he began to speak more with Sai, especially since she wouldn't bring up the subject of his magic, unless it was involved with something they were already talking about.

Of course he can't tell her everything, although he knows she'd already been vetted beforehand (otherwise, he wouldn't have been allowed near her), but it does take some of the weight off his shoulders, being around someone closer to his age, who doesn't have those kinds of expectations he's grown used to, who doesn't know what he's gone through because he's a life user, and shares his enthusiasm for magic lore.

Knowing about Tenten's history, though, why her spinning top hadn't affected him to anywhere near the same extent as Sai's empty book did, he thinks it was probably because he was wearing his gloves at the time, as well as the fact he was a little more prepared, as he was able to recognise the subtle change in his magic, the slightest little tingle that travelled down the length of his spine, before Tenten placed the top in his hand.

(On the surface, having specialised gloves could only do so much. Without maintaining his shields, very well he already knows that wearing those gloves means nothing.

That time, however, he also intentionally lowered his shields, only a little, if just to entertain his own curiosity, already anticipating his magic's response.)

Yet given the similarities between those two incidents, he's come to believe it wasn't the object itself his magic had responded to, but rather the impression of any emotions left behind.

There hasn't been much to prove his theory so far, and it's not enough to establish a clear pattern, but that's what he's going to assume for now: if an emotion associated with an object is strong enough, that emotion can then bind itself to the object, and that's what allows him to sense it with his empathy. While it's mostly been unintentional on his part, more so purposely driven by his magic, he's still trying to come to terms with it.

Not to mention, he's not in a position where he feels comfortable enough to lower his shields in order to explore this seemingly new ability any further, although it is something he should tell someone. And he will. Eventually. He just doesn't know how to approach that conversation, because it almost feels silly, how much thought he's given it—as if emotions could actually be tangible things, things that could actually shift to live on beyond someone's experiences.

Maybe.

(It's still all too new, hard to comprehend, and yet it's left him to wonder if he was able to do it before, if it was only then a matter of not being aware, because so easily he'd be overwhelmed by his empathy instead.)

Just the idea of being able to sense emotions from inanimate objects, frankly, it really does seem a little too farfetched, even with his history, given his level of sensitivity, and even within the realm of what he knows his magic is capable of doing. Although he can't deny what he felt, and that there really is something going on with his empathy, how he can expect anyone else to believe him, if he's still struggling to believe it himself?

Regardless, he knows he needs to tell someone soon. Naruto, most likely, since that's what he's usually done, anyway, because for a lot of things he felt more comfortable going to Naruto first; speaking to Naruto doesn't feel as daunting, like it sometimes does whenever he's speaking to his brother or his parents.

Compared to how much time he's spent worrying over that, though, he's actually a little more concerned about his other recent discovery, the one that's really brought into question the implications of how his magic may influence another person's actions, seemingly by altering their perception of him.

Already he's been told that he has a calming effect on people, whether they're magic users or not, and in a way that's fundamentally different from the type of empathy usually shared between magic users.

And he's noticed, within the past year, this seeming ability to get away with doing certain things, to go by unnoticed, despite his reputation, how people around him may appear to dismiss his presence entirely; it's nothing he can manipulate or predict, although it doesn't seem to have an effect on the people in his circle he's personally close to, people his magic's already used to.

The first time he noticed something a little bit off, was right after the peace summit, while he was checking in for an impromptu appointment scheduled with Iyashi. After signing in with his information and giving the tablet to Kelley—the receptionist who'd moved to the Capital to continue working with Iyashi, with the uncanny ability to know seemingly any and everything about nearly all of Iyashi's patients—somehow, Kelley was surprised to see him on the other side of the desk, as if he'd suddenly forgotten Sasuke had been consistently coming to see Iyashi for the better part of four years.

Even for him, it was too strange to ignore or simply brush off as some kind of fluke, and he didn't hesitate to tell Iyashi. Like most things, Iyashi took it in stride, although apparently it was also something that had already been brought to Iyashi's attention by his parents, what Naruto had told them, probably the moment Sasuke had been out of earshot.

During that first peace summit, before his confrontation with Orochimaru, Naruto did take note of the fact that initially he was the only one seemingly aware of Sasuke's absence. Their chaperones hadn't even seemed to notice Sasuke was no longer there; they didn't realise until after Naruto had left the room, and even then it still took some time.

While telling him this, Iyashi didn't seem particularly alarmed, with the same impassive expression as usual, just said it was something he should keep an eye out for, and to let him know if and when any similar instances presented themselves.

He agreed it probably wasn't a fluke but also conceded there were limitations in his ability to gauge the more compelling effects of Sasuke's magic, how both his empathy and magic continue to grow, and, in turn, how they have created a need for the same refuge they offer from the world around him.

"In either case, was it a conscious decision?"

"No. Even if I could, I wouldn't do something like that on purpose. You know I'm not allowed to use my magic like that out in the open."

"We've already talked about receiving unwanted attention and how it makes you feel. So, if you did have an opportunity to escape that unwanted attention, would it be something you'd consider?"

"It's like everything else. It doesn't matter—it shouldn't matter."

"Why do you think it shouldn't matter?"

"Because I...I don't know."

"Let me say this, then. No one can make these decisions for you, Sasuke. How a situation like this affects you, whether or not it should matter, you have to decide that on your own."

After finally being able to put so much of what he's gone through behind him, having to deal with these new aspects of his magic is the last thing he needs. He may not have the most thorough understanding of his magic, but he does know how it works, has many times reached the point where he knows there really is very little he can do to go against it—even with having Kyuubi, Naruto can't understand that.

All those reassurances he's been given, whatever claims of potential he may have, none of it means anything, if he can't even control his own magic. And that's the crux of it, really, that lingering uncertainty from not knowing, from being at the mercy of the very same magic he's become so dependent on.

Knowing when it's okay to give in, to trust his magic when it takes over, it's a balance he's yet to find, but that's why he needs to keep pushing himself. That's why he can't afford to stop trying. Now, it's just a matter of proving the progress he's made, both to himself and for everyone else to see.

Aside from learning how to both cope with and manage his empathy, the most effective change has probably been in his stamina, because that was one of the harsher constraints he suddenly had to face.

Before the first time he was admitted into Reife, he'd been pretty active, involved in the same kinds of things most kids his age did, only excluded when not having magic became an issue.

Following his release, it wasn't long at all until he was right back at Reife, only a little under a month in between then and when he was hospitalised again, that day Shisui died—those few weeks at home hadn't been nearly long enough for anyone to fully appreciate how much of a toll having empathy and life magic would eventually take on his body.

It wasn't so obvious at first. Understandably, there'd been more of a focus on how his empathy began to worsen, not to mention the fact he suddenly had the ability to heal almost instantaneously and by touch alone.

During then was when he suffered the worst of his episodes, and that on its own was initially enough to explain his chronic fatigue, and why he rarely had the energy to do much of anything. It reached the point where the nurses would have to wake him up for scheduled meals, because he'd sleep through those, too, if they'd let him; his parents tried their best to be there instead, usually bringing the kinds of foods he preferred, to make sure he'd eat, and they'd stay with him as long as they could, before they had to leave.

(A large part of what made his hospital stays more bearable, was the fact that he spent so much of that time sleeping. The days didn't seem to pass by so slowly, considering he couldn't even stay awake long enough for most of them, and many times did Naruto's visits turn into afternoon naps shared in that hospital bed seemingly only big enough to fit the two of them.)

After the second time he was released from the hospital, it was much more difficult again having to make that transition back to life at home, when reality started to hit him, as it became more apparent that he no longer had the stamina to physically keep up with doing even the simplest things. Discovering the intricacies that seemingly came along with his life magic, however, didn't occur until later.

Unlike what was seen with elemental users and the individual use of magic reserves, using life magic meant he'd be drawing from his own life force. His care team had already established that fairly early, but it was Nurse Mitate who proposed the idea that his life magic also behaved in ways similar to involuntary respiration, an automatic process that required no direct, conscious control, to ensure his life force would be sustained by his life magic, which in turn created a feedback with his empathy.

Of course, none of that made any sense to him at the time. He just knew he was always tired, and whatever treatments he was told he'd have to go through didn't feel like they were helping.

It only mattered that Iyashi understood enough. Taking Mitate's suggestions, he began to work more closely with Sasuke's care team, restructuring their sessions to incorporate life magic into some of the exercises that had helped Sasuke build the foundation for his shields, which also helped him better understand how his magic worked.

As a life user, more so than being prone to magical exhaustion, he had to learn to account for sheer physical exhaustion that apparently came alongside it, simply due to the fact his life magic passively draws from his life force, regardless of whether he's actively using his magic, more or less putting a continuous strain on what he was already severely lacking in reserves.

And it's not as if he can just put his life magic to the side. It's an irrefutable force all on its own, an ever-present ebb and flow, in constant motion, in nature neither fully diminished nor receding. Unlike his elemental magic, he can't just turn his life magic off. And his stamina has suffered for it.

Yet the fact that being a life user does affect him on such a fundamental level, within the framework of what he's learned about his magic, absolutely, it makes perfect sense, why he came to tire so easily, and how sleeping became a means for his body to recuperate with the changes presented by his life magic, to the extent of taking precedence over regular biological functions, one time too many having left him in a suspended state of animation that made it virtually impossible to detect any vital signs.

The ability to manipulate life comes at a price, and that price is at the expense of his own health.

It's just fact at this point, something that simply is, and yet, sometimes, he can't help but wonder if merely having this kind of ability to heal means he should be doing more with it, if being a life user means that somewhere down the line, healing others is what he's supposed to do, if that's something he should be ultimately working towards instead, rather than spend the rest of his life trying to chase down an impossible dream.

Even before his life magic presented, he'd never really been interested in any sort of medical career. He still can't see himself in that kind of environment, but it's hard to ignore some of the things people have said about him, the kinds of things not even his brother can keep him from hearing, an increasingly prevailing school of thought, especially from non-magic users, surrounding him this sort of expectation he should already be out there using his abilities to help those in need, for the supposed greater good, and that his parents are actually being selfish, having somehow done a public disservice by preventing access to him.

He knows Naruto doesn't like when people talk about him that way, knows how upset Naruto gets when people talk about him like he's not even his own person, so he doesn't really bring it up anymore, just tries not to think about it, the reality of how some people have come to see him, like he's just some commodity that could be so easily passed around.

But Naruto likes to tell him it's something he shouldn't feel guilty about. Just like what his brother says, the same as what his parents and Kushina and Minato say, that being a life user doesn't come with any obligations, and that he has a right to live for himself, to be the kind of person he wants to be.

"Where'd you get that idea?"

"I saw it on the news. I was going through channels, but then I heard my name, so, I stopped to watch the rest of this interview, and..."

"Oh, I see. Is that what happened."

"..."

"You really do remind me of Itachi when he was younger. A little too precocious for your own good, aren't you."

"Minato-san, I'm not like my...I'm not...precocious. I just didn't know. And nobody told me—why didn't anybody tell me?"

"Because sometimes people say things you're too young to hear."

"But I'm almost ten."

"You are. And while I know that it's a pretty important age, there's still a lot out there you won't understand until you're older. Even Naruto doesn't understand a lot of things. And he's almost eleven."

"...is it true, though? Is that what people really think about me?"

"Well, some of them, yes. But that's just part of life. We can only try our best to do good in this world. We can't control what other people think about us. But just because someone might say something about us, doesn't always mean what they say is right, or even true."

"Even when people say things that aren't true about you?"

"Especially then. Being who I am doesn't mean people aren't allowed to say what they think about me. Although for you, Sasuke, what you really have to think about, is whether or not that's something you want to do—not something you think you have to do, because of what other people say."

"...I don't know if it's something I should use my magic to do, because of what it does to me, but, helping people, doesn't that make it my responsibility, anyway, if it's something I know I can do?"

"Have you talked to your parents or Iyashi about this?"

"...no."

"What about your brother? Have you told him how you feel?"

"I can't tell him. And that's why I can't tell Naruto, either. I don't want to bother them."

"What makes you think you'll bother them?"

"..."

"Sasuke?"

"Because everyone already treats me like I'll...but, I think, since Naruto always talks about trying to do the right thing, then, using my magic to heal someone who's dying, wouldn't that be the right thing to do?"

"The right thing for who?"

"For people who are sick. People I should help. The man from the interview, he said it's my fault if I don't—"

"And what about what happens to you? What about what using your magic does to you? Shouldn't that matter, too?"

"...he didn't say anything about that."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to do the right thing. Unfortunately, it's not always as simple as some people want to make it out to be. Your parents and your brother, Kushina and I, this is what we mean by saying there are things you're still too young to understand—especially the kinds of things no one should try to make you feel guilty over, no matter who they are.

"Later on, helping people with your magic, if that's what you decide you want to do in the future, then we'll be there to support you. Right now, though...

"You've been through so many things, Sasuke. So many things I wish you didn't have to go through. But that also means you're a very strong person. I know you are. And I know how much you look up to Naruto, how much you want to do what's right, by helping other people.

"But it's just as important to understand that you have to do what's right for you, too. And the people around you, when there are things we decide not to tell you, it's in order to protect you, to keep you safe—to do what's right for you, because we care about you. That's why we try our best to be as honest with you as we can, when we feel you're ready for it.

"The circumstances are different for you, Sasuke—they're dangerous. And when you're older, you'll reach a point where you realise that. I don't mean to say things will always be this way, or that nothing will ever change, but there are a lot of people out there who aren't safe adults, people who don't have your best interests at heart, who are only concerned with doing what's right for them, and not how what they want might affect you.

"But that's not something we want you to get worked up over. You're too young to have to worry about things like that, so just let us take care of it, all right."

"...but I'm still not..."

"It's okay, Sasuke. You don't have to be what someone else thinks you should be. You having life magic doesn't mean someone has the right to demand what you should and shouldn't do.

"And I know it can be upsetting, hearing something like that from someone who doesn't even know you, but the people around you, the people who do want what's best for you, that's what we're here for. We're here to take care of you."

Those kinds of conversations with Minato, there weren't a lot of them, but, when he first discovered the rumours, as he gradually became more aware of how often and on how many platforms people would actually talk about him, there was a period of time when it first seemed like only someone in Minato's position— within the Alliance, the first ever magic user to hold the highest elected position in office—someone seemingly surrounded by even more gossip than the entirety of his own family, could understand what it felt like to be targeted simply for existing.

Unsurprisingly, what Minato didn't like to bring up directly, what no one still likes to talk about outright, what doesn't need to be said, and what most people outside his circle don't realise, is the cost to his own life, whenever he does use his magic to heal.

Considering the handful of times he nearly killed himself in the process, although he doesn't like to admit it, he still hasn't reached a point where he can use his healing magic so freely, at least not around people his magic isn't used to; it's harder to contain, harder not to let go, at even the slightest chance he allows his magic to roam, how quickly it will latch onto an unfamiliar life force.

It's a moot point, anyway, like with so many other things his parents won't allow him to do, so many things he can't even be sure he'll ever have the capability to do. And yet the thought that he should be doing more, it's still there, the pressure to use his magic to heal, to give up so much of himself for the sake of soothing the hurt of someone else—maybe all those attempts to guilt trip his parents did affect him in some way, but then he can also say that's just how his magic makes him feel, simply how it works.

More than that, maybe it just serves as another reminder of how limited he is in what he can actually do, making it that much harder to understand how being a life user could ever become such a big deal, something too many people continue to attach entirely too much significance to.

Comparatively speaking, he does have a better handle of his magic now, so, even with what's been happening lately, it isn't about him feeling sorry for himself. As far as he's come, as much as he's put the people closest to him through, he refuses to wallow in self-pity because he's over that—he's had more than enough time to be well over that by now; although he may have spent half his life effectively living in a bubble, he's not so self-absorbed that he can't even acknowledge the difference six years has made.

But what good is even having the ability to heal, if he can't realistically do anything with it?

Better yet, what good are any of his abilities? What good does it do for him to naturally be so sensitive, if his empathy doesn't translate into anything that's actually practical for him to use?

He already knows he'll never be like his brother.

He knows the idea of ever catching up to Naruto has pretty much always been and probably will always be a pipe dream.

But that stupid, childish desire to be just like them, wanting to go with them everywhere, already decided to follow them anywhere, that embarrassing desperation he should've long ago outgrown, that still hasn't gone away, either.

Between the two of them, that's why he pushed himself so hard to learn elemental magic. While he probably already had the potential for it, if it weren't for his brother and Naruto, if he hadn't tried to emulate them, if he hadn't held them to the standard of what he'd quickly grown to consider normal, he doesn't think if he would've gone as far—never mind the fact they were initially the only ones who made his empathetic attacks bearable, seemingly the only two people in the world it never hurt to be around, the first two people he began to associate with that feeling of being safe.

So, while he was still fumbling trying to navigate his empathy and his life magic, after watching some of the techniques his brother and Naruto could do, he just tried to make those into something he could call his own.

It wasn't an immediate change, or something that came to him easily. It took a while, hours alone he eventually lost count of, practicing in secret, not even telling Naruto. Then, one day, suddenly, he could manipulate his first two elements: shadow and wind.

After that, following the uproar it caused when he'd shown Naruto and Naruto dragged him to show Itachi, it became a little easier, even started to feel more natural, since that was before anyone realised he'd been pulling on his life force, rather than the small reserves for elemental magic he wouldn't learn about until much later.

If his parents hadn't been hovering over him before, most definitely, they decided to tighten the reins, for a surprisingly long time, even limiting his contact with extended family, barely giving him any room to breathe without supervision.

(Well before his diagnosis as a non-magic user, his brother already had somewhat protective tendencies, tendencies that only escalated after he did eventually prove to have empathy, and tendencies made much more apparent when he also proved to be a life user.

Yet, as sheltered as his parents have kept him, as much as they still tend to hover, he's beginning to learn there are a lot things he shouldn't put past his brother, increasingly, a lot of decisions his brother's made that can only be described as...dubious, at best.

More than a few times, Naruto's joked about Itachi one day locking him away in a tower somewhere on the other side of the galaxy.

Sasuke still can't be sure there isn't some part of his brother not sorely tempted to do just that.)

With most of the heavier constraints, though, he managed to find ways around them, inadvertently, simply by spending so much of his time with Naruto. It was what he'd already been doing, anyway, an opportunity he didn't hesitate to take, especially since Naruto had actually agreed not tell anyone right away—as long as Sasuke didn't practice by himself, and not unless something happened.

Which it did.

When he was showing his third element to Naruto, and all but burned off his hand in his excitement.

(At nine, he didn't think it was bad enough to warrant Naruto running off to get Sakura, because he'd already known his hand was going to heal, eventually, even if he did end up passing out in Sakura's arms.

He also didn't think it was bad enough to warrant Naruto telling on him and accusing him of going back on his promise, because he hadn't, not really; in his defence, practicing his elemental magic while Naruto was nearby and not looking wasn't anywhere near the same as practicing by himself.)

Unsurprisingly, fire became one of his better affinities, the one that made him the feel most connected to his heritage, the legacy of his family, the very same magic passed down from generation to generation, and yet he couldn't even...

However, by then, he started to notice he didn't have to push himself as hard. And the more he watched others manipulating their magic, the easier it seemingly became not just to emulate what he saw, but to understand how to transform those techniques into different ways of manipulating elements on their own.

He was essentially pulling from his life force, doing no more than what he'd already done, part of that pattern he'd already established as what simply felt natural for him to.

At that point, though, while he hadn't yet realised what he was doing, it wasn't such a strain, because his elemental magic wasn't actually that strong, admittedly at a level too low for even Naruto to pick up on, much less enough to be noticed by most of the magic users around him, including his brother.

Looking back, it was probably how he initially got away with doing so much, and maybe even played into why he wasn't as fazed when he was finally able to manipulate his fourth element: water.

He hadn't been practicing intentionally. Not being close enough to any water users, he wasn't able to emulate what he couldn't see in person; there was nothing to retain watching through video, or even through reading less complex material, and even if there was someone he could actually watch, considering what happened with his fire magic, after he'd given himself third degree burns, with how much more attention everyone was given him, at the very least, he figured it'd be okay to take a break.

Despite the setbacks, when he did decide to focus on manipulating water, he actually learned without relying on any specific techniques. Understanding came gradually, almost as an afterthought from casual observation: seeing the properties of water, the shape itself, the shapes it'd take, how freely it flowed and how it was displaced.

He'd usually do it while he was in the bath, spare a few seconds to raise his hand, follow the way the water would seep through his fingers. Sometimes, he'd use his wind magic to gently direct the air inside large soap bubbles, pulling from what he remembered of one of Naruto's techniques, and eventually attempting to move the bubbles themselves. Either way, he hadn't been able to maintain it; the bubbles would pop within less than a second, almost as if he'd used his own hand to touch them.

But then his precision his grew, over the course of a few weeks, continued to grow, enough so that he went from maintain the shape of a few soap bubbles while in the bath, to manipulating the raindrops fallen outside his room window, steadily increasing the expanse of glass he was able to keep dry.

Again, it wasn't that he was using a notable amount of magic, but his mental acuity had been improving, too, due to his sessions with Iyashi, and made his water magic seem like much less of a conscious effort. Plus, the experience was a lot less volatile than his experience with fire magic, which was probably why his parents were a little more lenient about it, when he revealed that he could apparently use water magic, too.

When it came to studying earth magic, by that point, he'd already known Sakura for a year, and, after being allowed to watch her train (even if that included the occasional, usually playful spar she had with Naruto), that was when he felt confident enough to seriously try his hand at earth techniques, all the while trying to push down his growing irritation, time and again biting his tongue, at how often he had to be subjected to Naruto going on and on about—

Out of all the elements, he still feels the most comfortable using his shadow magic. It's what comes easiest to him, what he's always seemed to have the most affinity for, and what deepened the bond he shares with his brother, ultimately giving him the kind of connection he'd once been convinced they'd never be able to have.

It's so much more than the fact he now has magic, that he can better represent the legacy of his family, that incredibly simple sense of belonging that's allowed him to be the closest he's ever felt to normal, because having shadow magic, it's the closest he's ever felt to Itachi, and although he's not an actual shadow user, actually being able to learn shadow magic from his brother, being able to follow his brother in places where he wasn't able to go before, that's something that can never be taken away from him.

Having magic and becoming closer to his brother didn't necessarily change much of what happened outside their relationship, though. If anything, it almost felt like they were seeing even less of each other. During that time, Itachi was on the verge of transition, gradually being given less missions, but while he still had other responsibilities, including making up for the near indeterminate amount of leave he'd requested after the first time Sasuke had been admitted into Reife, as long as they could be together sometimes, that was okay, too.

"Is that enough for you to learn someone's technique?"

"...well, I guess...I think if I see someone's technique—like after what you showed me with your shadow magic, and seeing Naruto practice his wind magic—watching someone perform a technique, that makes it easier for me copy it."

"Oh?"

"Mm." Sasuke gave a slow nod, feet dangling from the edge of the bed, as he reached out with one hand to hold Itachi's that seemed so much to dwarf his own. "I still have to see it more than a couple times, but I think that's what helps me when I try to do it with my own magic. That's what makes it easier to do."

He yawned, fingers lightly tracing along the back of Itachi's hand, despite the material of his gloves between them, easily settling into the familiar comfort of his brother's cold. "I don't know why it always makes me feel so tired," he said, voice growing softer, as he leaned further into Itachi's side, eyes already falling closed, head drooped against Itachi's shoulder. "...but I'm okay, though."

He felt himself being gently lowered onto the bed, still not letting go of his brother's hand, at the feel of his legs being carefully lifted, moving his hand to grip Itachi's wrist, giving it a light squeeze.

"You should sleep."

"...I don't want you to leave."

"Sasuke..."

As the space beside him dipped beneath Itachi's weight, Sasuke slowly opened his eyes that nearly again fell closed, watching his brother lie down beside him.

"...if I don't go to sleep, will you stay with me?"

His brother raised his free hand between them, reaching to brush away the hair from Sasuke's face, offering a gentle smile. "Maybe next time."

"...you always say that. You always say next time. Why can't it ever be this time?"

"I'm sorry I can't stay with you tonight, but I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

The time they did spend together, whenever they did talk about magic, apart from discussing his potential to perform elemental magic, as he grew older, it also became an opportunity Itachi used to go a little more in depth teaching him beyond the basic mechanics of magic use, and to share his own shadow techniques, alongside the lesser-known concepts he'd gained through experience and learned from observation on the field, holding off on trying to explain the less practical and more theoretical applications until recently.

That's really been the extent of his formal training, which is probably saying a lot, considering just who his brother is, but the majority of what he's learned about magic, how he's come to understand it, he owes that to his brother.

Technically, how it's been defined scientifically at least, there are seven established transformation elements: fire, wind, lightning, earth, water, metal, and shadow. For the most part, though, magic users are officially separated into one of five major element classes: fire, wind, earth, water, and shadow.

Anything else is more or less considered a subclass, if only for the sake of simplicity, since the majority of magic users fall into one of the first four classes; being less common, lightning elementals are classed under fire, and both sand and metal elementals are classed under earth, those kinds of outliers. Even so, shadow still remains the least common class, with shadow users not only being exceedingly rare, but also lesser known, distinguished by a history of being neither acknowledged nor widely accepted.

However, being able to effectively manipulate an element, and to the degree an element can be manipulated, that correlates with a person's inherent magical ability, the range of their power.

For whatever reason, even within the Alliance, there's still this widespread misconception that simply having magic is what makes a magic user powerful, despite the studies that say that the average civilian adult magic user ranks a low D on their annual Registration.

Of course, there are different factors that go into consideration for Registration, but the standards also vary in industries when stats often do play a larger role, but in particular for military institutions, with the average magic user trainee from Nagi's academy placing between a high C and a low B, an average that includes even first years, without fail, making Nagi's academy one of the leading academies within the Alliance.

Naturally, for training and combat purposes, the military goes much more in depth to analyse a person's skill type and stats, which is where being classed with a certain element has much more significance.

One of the very first things his brother would stress, regardless of how he used his magic, was the importance of realising his own limitations and then learning to compensate for them, rather than relying on raw power alone.

Not that it's done much for Sasuke personally, especially since he's not allowed to use his magic during his spars with Naruto yet, but, like with nearly everything his brother's said, he accepted the advice without question; already, too many times he's seen examples of it, heard too many stories about people relying solely on their power, instead of taking into account something as basic as elemental skill type.

It's not necessarily that wielding a certain kind of magic poses a weaknesses, because any outcome ultimately depends on the individual skill of the magic user, but some element types do offer intrinsic advantages over others.

Fire-based attacks usually fare better against wind-based attacks, while being less effective against water based attacks. In the same vein, wind users have a recognised advantage over earth users, and, despite their disadvantage against fire-based attacks, they tend to be more sensitive to other magic signatures, which can also work as a countermeasure against fire users, who typically do have higher than average power levels.

There's a lot of room for nuance. Plenty of incentive to regularly incorporate a number of combat strategies involving direct physical contact, especially when acting solely on power or brute force doesn't automatically equate to having the upper hand; that's why trainees are taught to how to adapt and fight with whatever means at their disposable, trained to fight with and without their magic.

Elemental affinity can affect a magic user's main stats, too, enhancing their agility, endurance, physical strength, or power, all of which are a sizeable percentage of what's used when deciding rank.

Overall, wind and water elementals are more prone to scoring higher in agility and endurance, while fire and earth elementals are heavily linked with increases in strength and power.

Supposedly, shadow elementals are considered a balanced type, expected to have an above average increase in stats across the board, although there isn't enough information on record to conclusively prove that. It may be true for his brother, who was already classified as an S-level magic user before he even graduated the Academy. But with stats that have always been exceptionally high for his age, consistently high since his early acceptance into the Academy, that's hardly a fair starting point. Even with shadow magic, rare as that is, his brother's probably the exception, not the rule.

(And even if his brother didn't have shadow magic, if he had any other element, there's no doubt in his mind that Itachi would be just as powerful.)

Same goes for Naruto. As a wind elemental, he doesn't seem to be that far behind. Although he hasn't quite reached Itachi's level, he's quickly on his way to becoming a veritable powerhouse, growing increasingly versatile and much more proficient with his magic; he has enough control now that he can create a small wind barrier that encloses him in a protective shield, even if he's only able to hold it for a few minutes, but he's also learned how to better use the air around him to his advantage, even against fire-based attacks, can actually snuff smaller fires out.

Whatever his true stats are, of course there won't be any official documentation kept on file. There can't be. Even without Kyuubi, he already receives more than enough attention for scoring on the higher end of above average for his class, on top of the interest he's drawn simply for being Namikaze Minato's son.

Where Naruto would truly rank if he didn't have to hold back, there's probably no way to determine that without Kyuubi's influence, anyway. Between the two of them, their magic is just that closely intertwined. That's how well-matched they actually are.

Surprisingly, Naruto's never gone up against Itachi. He's asked Naruto about it, if he's ever considered training under Itachi, or at least considering asking Itachi to take their spars more seriously, rather than the mock matches they've had in the past.

"Are you crazy?"

"For asking a question?"

"Well, I mean, that kind of question—get back to me in a few years, maybe. If even that. Why are you even asking, anyway? Is this your way of saying you're going to be the one to hide my body?"

"What—no. I just think it'd be interesting to watch."

"...interesting to watch, he says. All the things I've done for your sake, and this is all my life means to you?"

"You know it's not that. It's just, you and Itachi, you're the strongest people I know."

"...I can't believe you're actually giving me a compliment."

"Naruto..."

"Eh, I already asked him."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He turned me down. But I get it. With the way I am now, he said he knows I can't keep up with him yet. I'm still at a level where it wouldn't do me any good if he has to hold back."

"But I've seen you. How are you not..."

"Nah, he's right. I've felt some of it before, his magic, and even then he was barely giving anything off. I think, if I had to take him on as a serious opponent, I'd probably have to tap into Kyuubi for help on that one.

"But I told him to give me another year, so there's always that, too. Training, though, we really do have different fighting styles, which is probably what he meant when he said I'd get more out of it by not having to hold back.

"I know you've never seen Itachi go all out—not saying I've seen it, either—but he got that S rank for a reason, you know.

"Ask Sakura. No, seriously. I already knew Itachi had a reputation on base, from when he used to be one the instructors heading the advanced combat classes, but Sakura said he's a real hard ass. And she would know. Itachi's the one who trained her when she transferred here."

For security reasons, among others, the Academy doesn't keep footage of what happens in any of the training areas, or at least it doesn't release anything like that for public consumption, but he's seen some of his brother's techniques, and he's heard enough stories about his brother's time at the Academy, so he doesn't question the S ranking, or why so many of his matches been abrupt, all but finished almost as soon as they began.

Still, it's one thing to hear how powerful his brother is, to even see glimpses into how powerful Naruto has the potential to be. It's another thing entirely to be able to experience that kind of power for himself.

Compared to last year, he's lucky he gets to do even this much with his brother and Naruto, really, so it's not that he isn't grateful he's been allowed to train with either of them, to any extent, yet with the training he's had so far, being limited to defensive techniques, with anything physical not involving magic at all, he just wants to be able to do more.

Itachi just keeps telling him not to be so impatient. And he isn't. Or at least he's not trying to be.

Since his birthday, for the past few weeks, their most recent training sessions have consisted of mental exercises, in between practicing kata, focusing mostly on defensive stances, practicing mindfulness, purposeful breathing, with the supposed goal of laying down a better foundation, in the event he ever were to find himself in a position where he couldn't avoid confrontation—rather, another much less subtle attempt to steer him away from relying so heavily on his life magic, because, really, that's been the express purpose of this from the get-go, to help keep inconspicuous the fact that he has elemental magic, too.

But that patience has paid off. Apparently, everything they've been doing was in preparation for teaching him how to wield a sword—his own sword, that Itachi had commissioned and modified especially for him.

He's always wanted to learn (never mind that swords are also his brother's preferred weapon of choice). He just didn't think his parents would've signed off on something like this any time soon, not with the way they reacted to his elemental magic.

Itachi gave him the sword last week, right before he had to leave for another mission off world. Tempting as it is to get a closer look for himself , he still has to wait for Itachi to come back to actually do anything with it; he's not allowed to use it yet, much less take it out of the glass case, but just having the sword is more than enough to hold him over until then.

At first glance, it really doesn't look like much, when the blade's retracted, seemingly more like a starter weapon, the kind by design intended not to cause harm, or even one of those overpriced knockoffs that could've been picked up from any shop. Yet given the fact he's never had any kind of weapon before, and that he wasn't even expecting this, he's appreciative all the same.

It's just a little different than what he initially had in mind, the more sleek kinds of curved swords he's seen from the bulk his brother's collection. For one, it's retractable. Fully extended, the single-edge sword looks dull, almost blunt, the type better suited for defensive moves. The blade's shorter and a little wider. It's straighter, too, whereas his brother's typical sword has a much more noticeable curvature near the blade's point.

It's still nice, though, a near impeccable piece of work. Even looking through the glass, taking in all the minute details, the demonstrated skill of whoever made it, the quality is undeniable.

The blade itself was forged by hand, from a rare metal alloy, flexible, highly durable despite its light weight. The style of the hilt falls somewhat on the more unorthodox side, but it also makes for a convenient size, discreet, in the sense that it makes the sword appear more decorative than functional.

Receiving it as gift from his brother, that was a touching gesture on its own. What made it humbling, was the reason for making the sword, the concept behind it, inspired by a throwaway comment he once made about one of Kakashi's techniques he'd seen, a comment his brother apparently thought was interesting enough to do something about—from that simple idea alone, simply the kind of thought his brother had put into doing something like this for him.

"I had hoped you could use it to help channel your elemental magic."

"...what do you mean?"

"The sword should be strong enough to withstand your magic, with the blade itself acting as a conduit.

"Do really think something like that would work?"

"I don't expect it to happen overnight. It'll take time to experiment and see how to effectively put that into practice, although what I'm probably most curious about, is how your lightning magic will affect the properties of the alloy, specifically to what extent high-frequency vibrations can increase the sharpness of the blade."

"Nii-san, I..."

"Again, that's something we can work towards as we go along. Since you're more comfortable with your fire magic, I think that may be easier for you."

"...you didn't have to do this. You didn't have to do any of this—it's too much. It's too—"

"Sasuke, it's fine. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to have it finished in time for your birthday. But I did want to surprise you."

"No, this is...this really is...

"...thank you."

He was still a little hesitant at first, despite his brother's quiet excitement while presenting the sword to him, because it did feel like too much, like he hadn't done enough to deserve it.

But it's hard not to compare himself to his brother. He can't help it. As much as he still looks up to his brother, as much as it feels like almost everything he does is just some misguided attempt to be just like him, that's something he's not sure he'll ever truly be able to get over.

Even Naruto calls him out on it. He's only teasing, of course, because somehow he thinks something like that can still be called cute, but the words aren't so easy to brush off anymore, not when they augment an already uneasy truth.

The kinds of sacrifices his brother has made for him, continues to make for him. The lengths he's gone, renouncing a once promising, more fulfilling career, simply for his sake.

He doesn't actually know what his brother does exactly, but he knows the name Uchiha Itachi goes a long way in a lot of circles: among all the branches in their family, on base, seemingly right through the entire Alliance.

Ever since Itachi began petitioning for his current stay on Nagi, though, he's just here and there, with any official-sounding titles and corresponding responsibilities constantly in flux, and any openings in between easily labelled as classified.

On the surface, it looks like he does a lot of office work, paperwork about this and that, mostly things that allow him to stay on base, allowing him to stay closer to home.

Not that he isn't still assigned missions, but they're nothing like the long duty tours he used to take when he'd be deployed off world, gone for weeks at a times, all those late nights he'd wait for Itachi to return, from time to time, their mom even allowing him to stay up a little longer, just so he could be the first one to welcome his brother home.

Then, during the days he practically lived in his brother's old trainee jacket, the days he used to believe someday he'd get a jacket of his very own, he wasn't aware of what any of it meant, the kind of dangers his brother had to put himself in.

Later, however, he began to recognise something off in his brother's eyes, despite the tenderness of his brother's smile, despite his own sensitivity, in dark eyes, something so very tired, the beginnings of an unease he couldn't understand, so instead he'd pick up his feet, walk a little faster to meet the arms that reached around him, as his brother kneeled down to hold him, trying to pull his brother closer, with his empathy, trying to fix a hurt he couldn't even see.

And yet the near drastic decrease in missions hasn't prevented Itachi from training to an extensive degree. For a purported pencil pusher seemingly surrounded by paperwork, unlike many of his older colleagues, well-regarded officers similar in stature, his appearance and fitness level haven't really changed, and he remains current with all the necessary certifications that would have him qualified for the field, ready to be sent out at a moment's notice.

Those certifications go for weapon use, too. According to public information readily available on base, he's in top form, if not better than he was during his Academy days, with an extremely high accuracy rate with the standard, military firearms issued to enlistees.

He's still adept with a multitude of weapons, very much still adept with the kinds of short-ranged weapons he usually favours. Short swords and long swords, knives and daggers—scary good with anything ridiculously sharp and pointy, as Naruto would say.

However, having shadow magic and favouring those kinds of weapons, that easily lends itself to a particular skill set. And because of it, at the very least, he's probably been asked to take on some kind stealth-related mission. With all accolades to show for it, time and again, he's demonstrated his dedication to the Alliance, sometimes seemingly even at the expense of the family name.

Having the cloaking technique alone, logically, it just makes sense. Regardless of the stigma still attached to shadow users, simply having the ability to perform shadow magic would prove invaluable for certain covert operations, absolutely for information gathering, and certainly in a highly specialised field that wouldn't shy away from espionage.

Even Naruto agrees. Overactive imagination aside, there are things Naruto knows now, things Naruto isn't able to tell him (what he hopes aren't things Naruto simply won't tell him). While it's frustrating that he has no choice but to accept it, he's not going to discount whatever insight Naruto might offer; Naruto already told him about people already claiming that Ibiki, an executive officer rumoured to work for one of the three intelligence agencies in Nagi, was probably going to try to recruit Shikamaru for the intelligence divisions, so it wasn't a stretch to think a well-known prodigy like Itachi would've fallen into someone's purview during his time at the Academy.

Because he knows there are sides to his brother he doesn't get to see, parts of his life that his brother will probably never let him see.

And then there's the matter of his brother's void technique, which is just as ominous as it sounds. He's never actually seen it, but his brother has been open enough about it, not quite relaying he wouldn't be averse to teaching him someday in the future.

It sounds incredibly powerful, though, nearly inconceivable, essentially this near impenetrable technique that can apparently negate the effects of magic, all but cancelling out the abilities of another magic user, by transmitting his own magical energy to deflect and disperse other magic attacks, effectively rendering them useless.

As well, it takes an incredible amount of stamina to both execute properly and simply maintain, which is probably why his brother never showed him, never gave him an opportunity to try to emulate it on his own.

(Even disregarding his lack of stamina, it's a technique that involves a combination of power and technical finesse he clearly doesn't have. And with his limited reserves, the very reason he relies so heavily on his life magic, simply because he has a larger pool to pull from, that acts as a single source, as opposed to how much more difficult it is to try to consistently wade through the comparatively shallow pool that is his elemental magic, consisting of multiple sources.)

No, taking into consideration who his brother is, the simplest answer, the simplest connotations of having that particular skill set, sheer on the scale of possibilities, the kinds of things so easily his brother could get away with doing, he's not that naive. Not like he used to be. He doesn't even see himself as cynical for thinking it's plausible. And even if he did ask about it, even if he wanted to ask, he already knows his brother won't admit to anything like that.

How could he?

Either way, knowing wouldn't change anything. With all the things his brother's done for him, to even ask him something like that, to even put into question everything his brother's given up for him, he couldn't hurt his brother like that. He couldn't do that to him.

Besides, supposing any speculation does hold some kind of truth, it wouldn't make him think any less of Itachi for it—nothing would change the way he feels about him. Itachi is his brother. That's all he's ever needed. That's all he's ever cared about.

The other, more crucial takeaway is that he's learning from one of the very best, being taught by someone both highly lauded and sought-after for their expertise, receiving the kind of personal training a lot of people would probably do a number of questionable things for.

Of course, under his circumstances, he doesn't doubt his brother is much more forgiving when it comes to his training. Still, as...overly concerned as his brother tends to be about his wellbeing, that doesn't mean Itachi will coddle him, or that he won't hold him accountable for his actions, something Naruto somehow still can't seem to wrap his head around.

Even with him, his brother can be pretty strict at times, in some respects, much more so than their parents. Training with him has been no exception. Although he does enjoy it, if only because it presents another opportunity to spend time with his brother, whatever they do is what his brother decides, because his brother has the final say. And that's it.

It's almost like going up against a brick wall, really, which is exactly what it feels like during any sort of practice with him, despite the fact most of his training still centres around building beyond basic self-defence techniques. It's a little demoralising even, the handful to times he did get to experiment with more offensive techniques, again and again, seeing just how very ineffective those kinds of attacks are against his brother, who doesn't even seem to budge, absolutely refuses to move, no matter what he tries to throw at him.

However, if training with his brother is like being pitted against is an unmovable object, then training with Naruto is like being pitted against an unstoppable force.

Ever since he told Naruto, from the start, Naruto's been supportive about it, actually excited about finally getting the chance to spar together. It was a little surprising, honestly, especially since they could only spar without using magic, but even that didn't seem to be enough to discourage Naruto, who couldn't wait to take him to one of the trainee facilities on campus.

(Then again, Naruto's also been extremely generous in not bringing up the increasingly widening gap in between them, how much more he's been able to progress, how very substantial it is, all the experience Sasuke simply lacks.)

He still likes it, though, being able to have that kind of physical outlet, just being able to share something like this with Naruto, even if Naruto's only been doing it to appease him, more or less, but it's not exactly like he has choice in sparring partners, that he'd be able to find someone similar to him, never mind anyone he'd eventually be able to use his elemental magic against.

He already knows he doesn't pose a challenge to Naruto. He just doesn't know what Naruto's getting out of this arrangement, why he even was so happy about it in the first place, as much as Naruto's tried to assure him that he really does like being able to spar with him. Yet, for someone like Naruto, there is absolutely no way anything constructive can come from the two of them sparring on a level this low.

Sure, he can acknowledge that Naruto's strong, much stronger than him, in regards to his magic or otherwise, but that doesn't take much to admit because that's already a given. Naruto's always been ahead of him. And, just like with Itachi, he couldn't help but look up to Naruto, too.

There's probably a part of him that's always admired Naruto, reluctantly at first, well before they were friends, before they started to get along, because the kinds of things he'd hear people say in praise of Itachi, he would hear people say the same about Naruto, too, all the things at such a young age Naruto could already do.

(As often as his mom and Kushina had tried to encourage them to be friends, it was hard to ignore the way people around him would talk about Naruto; since Naruto was only a year older, naturally, it didn't take much for Sasuke to start making his own comparisons, especially when it'd already been determined he wouldn't develop empathy, and any hope that he'd be like the rest of his family, that he could grow up to be like his brother, that he'd turn out to be normal, was thrown out the window.

Comparing himself to Naruto, it wasn't as bad as being constantly compared to Itachi, through no choice of his own, having to live in his brother's shadow, but when his empathy did manifest, when he did develop magic he could call his own, at the realisation he still wouldn't be able to catch up with either of them, somehow, that just seemed to make everything worse.)

Since being accepted into the Academy, Naruto hasn't stopped looking ahead, but he hasn't stopped waiting for him, either, despite with each year how much farther away he seems, even if that means Sasuke has to keep pushing himself that much further just to ensure he won't be left behind.

Where he is now, he doesn't expect to surpass Naruto in a lot of things, doesn't suspect that he ever will, but, at least one day, he wants to be able to stand beside him, to be someone Naruto can actually depend on. The way Naruto's always been there to protect him, to take care of him—yes, he wants to get stronger for himself, to prove isn't so helpless anymore, but being able to take care of someone else, being able to protect them, he wants do those same things for Naruto, too.

The only problem is, Naruto doesn't see it that way.

In too many ways, it still feels like Naruto just sees him as someone he's obligated to protect, someone he long ago decided he has to put first. Now that they're older, he's been a little better about trying to give him more space, not so blatantly eager to jump in situations Sasuke can handle by himself.

Over time, though, that's just something Sasuke's come to accept, because it's not fair to expect Naruto to be anything but the kind of person he is, the kind of person he willingly became for him. Sparring together has had little, if any, kind of effect whatsoever on that mindset.

There's no point in asking Naruto not to hold back. It was a condition that was essentially implied, didn't even need to be said. Of course he's going to hold back. As playful as he usually is during their sessions, he's always careful not to push him too hard, not to ask of him too much.

In terms of stats, (in terms of pretty much everything, really), clearly, Naruto has the advantage. Even without his abilities being enhanced by Kyuubi's magic, it's almost a sure thing that he outranks most magic users his age, definitely his own graduating class at the Academy; learning to harness that kind of raw power didn't come easy, or quick, but, after all the hard work he had to put in, it shows.

Going up against Naruto, as fast as Naruto is, innate agility is probably his only saving grace, although, even then, he knows the only reason he's been able somewhat keep up with Naruto is because of the effort Naruto puts into restraining himself. His agility on its own is still not enough to give him any sort of edge.

But at least it's an opportunity for him to become stronger, to gain the kind experience he wouldn't be able to receive otherwise, despite what Naruto may not get out of it, because he really does like sparring with Naruto. It's as fun as it can be frustrating, but he's learned a lot from in the short time they've been doing this.

One of the best things about having Naruto as a partner and as a mentor, as someone so unpredictable, is that he genuinely does want him to improve, as much as he's been able, likes to make him work for each attempted hit, make him think off the cuff. Even after gaining a better understanding of Naruto's fighting style and how Naruto employs the techniques he's shown him, that's not much use when trying to prepare beforehand, because Naruto's rather intuitive when it comes to impromptu strategies, living in the heat of the moment, practically thrives on it, during his spars that Sasuke's seen, notably quick on his feet, which really is saying something, considering how often Sasuke's seen him trip over said feet.

Naruto's always been a hands-on kind of guy, though. That's just how he learns, by doing, and that's why Sasuke took it upon himself to help Naruto study for the Academy's entrance exams, helping Naruto with the material he had a little more trouble understanding.

But when it comes to fighting, Naruto really is in his element. Despite Sasuke's own misgivings about the situation, he can tell how much Naruto loves it, and he's sort of picked up on some of Naruto's fighting style, taking from it bits and pieces of what he liked, while trying to develop a style of his own.

Another benefit from sparring with Naruto, because he feels comfortable around him, he also feels more comfortable taking more risks, experimenting with moves he probably wouldn't have thought to try, despite the fact he's rarely able to follow through.

With how much Naruto is purposely holding back, that typically puts Sasuke on the offensive, allows him to set the tempo of their sessions. That's why their sessions typically don't last that long. He doesn't tire so easily anymore (not to the point where he can't even make the walk from his bedroom to the bathroom on the other side of the hall—the one time he only made it halfway and his mom found him lying on the floor), but he simply doesn't have the stamina for even their moderate sessions, much less Naruto's level of stamina, which is better suited to the kind of lengthy, more intensive spars he's able to have with his squad and other trainees.

Although Naruto says it's more so because he has a really bad habit of leaving himself wide open too much, way too open while trying to track an opponent's moves, which Naruto doesn't hesitate to point out, even while they're in the middle of sparring, often accusing him of being entirely too reckless for a guy who doesn't even have the appropriate amount of basic survival sense.

"Attack's not going to matter when you keep making the same kinds of mistakes. And maybe some of it is just part of your magic. I get that much. But at some point you really need to stop following the wrong instincts, and start learning how to listen to the ones for self-preservation properly."

At the same time, however, the other drawback about sparring with Naruto, at least on Sasuke's part, because he does feel so comfortable with him, because of how well he does know Naruto, he also knows Naruto would never intentionally do anything to hurt him.

Admittedly, it's something he doesn't mean to take for granted, but it's never even crossed his mind, that hard to fathom, this seemingly impossible notion that Naruto could be anything other than safe. It's not even something he has to say out loud anymore, something Naruto already knows, something Naruto's never held against him. Of all people, Naruto wouldn't do that to him—Naruto wouldn't hurt him.

By extension, Kyuubi wouldn't hurt him, either. Even if he had any desire to, apparently, he can't.

Even that day Naruto had tried to run away, when he first realised where Kyuubi was, when, somehow, he just knew, as he placed his hand over Naruto's own, as he made Kyuubi's magic recede, with a simple touch, healing Naruto while he soothed Kyuubi, restoring around them the area Kyuubi had laid waste to, even then, settling into a biting calm, Kyuubi didn't try to hurt him.

While Kyuubi wasn't pleased about his presence, he still made sure to acknowledge him, with a grudging respect, gave the slightest bow of his head, with an annoyed huff, lips curled into a snarl, but it was then and there, in Naruto's consciousness, in those seconds few, they quickly came to a sort of silent understanding over the one immediate thing they seemingly had in common, namely their attachment to Naruto.

(Regardless of what Kyuubi may or may not feel towards him, unquestionably, overwhelmingly, does he trust Kyuubi to look out for Naruto, when Naruto can't—won't—look out for himself.)

Being stared down by an enormous nine-tailed fox, however, the one evidently housed in Naruto's consciousness, based on Kyuubi's size alone, he doesn't know whether or not he should've been afraid in that moment, but there was nothing about Kyuubi, either then or now, that gave him any reason to be scared.

There's always been something that feels familiar about him, this vague sense of nostalgia for a time he almost remembers, like a memory from a dream, comforting in a way, almost warm, strangely enough, as abrasive as Kyuubi usually tends to be.

Although, considering Kyuubi's deep-seated hatred towards humans (save for Naruto), the kinds of things he's said that Naruto won't repeat, why Kyuubi still seems to respond to his life magic, why Kyuubi's actions seem to constantly contradict the open dislike Kyuubi's expressed towards him, or even why Kyuubi should feel so apprehensive, he doesn't know. Neither of them knows. Whatever the connection between them is supposed to mean, it's probably buried in Kyuubi's past, the same place where he lost his name.

Despite Kyuubi's wariness of him, he doesn't feel any need to appeal to Kyuubi. Apart from Naruto, he's the only person Kyuubi seems willing to speak to, anyway, so Kyuubi will engage with him whenever he feels like it, without promoting, will actively seek him out on occasion, even with Naruto only a few metres away, when he becomes more aware of Kyuubi's presence, completely separate from Naruto, when he notices these sort of awkward nudges, in the back of his mind, frequently paired with an impatient tug, before a warmth washes over him, Kyuubi resting comfortably beneath the sway of his magic.

After Kyuubi did a few more times, as it started to become a pattern, when he told Naruto about it, Naruto could barely contain his laughter.

"Kyuubi, he—that's...that's funny," Naruto managed to get out between large breaths. "And now he's getting cranky and acting like he doesn't want to talk to me anymore."

"Probably because you won't stop laughing at him." Sasuke frowned. "I don't mind that Kyuubi does it. I'm just wondering what it means"

"Oh, that's just his backwards way of checking up on you. He kind of has this thing about making sure you're okay, you know."

Sasuke gives Naruto a flat stare. "He doesn't like me."

"Yeah, it's something like that—although he says a lot of things that don't exactly add up, so I don't really get it, either." Naruto lifted his arm, raising his hand near the back of his neck, finger scratching behind his ear. "Definitely, he gets a little weird about it sometimes, about you and your life magic, but I know he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. Not if he can help it."

"With how close you and Kyuubi are, wouldn't that have more to do with you and me?"

Lowering his arm, Naruto shrugged. "Some of it, yeah, probably, but it's not just because of me. Even without me, Kyuubi still gets really, really touchy about you. So, uh, yeah. He doesn't know why, either, but that's what it is, I guess."

"Like I said, I don't mind. You know that's how my empathy works, anyway. I was just wondering."

"He's just as bad as you when it comes to emotions. Because you both act you don't know how to use those things called words. Seriously, I don't get why it's so hard for the two of you to be honest about your feelings, and just say what you actually mean."

Knowing he probably wouldn't be alone, Sasuke chose to walk himself out of that conversation, leaving Naruto behind, ignoring the words that followed him, Naruto shouting out to him the fact that he was walking away only proved his point.

Maybe that means he and Kyuubi have something else in common, but Kyuubi's also pure magic, a living embodiment of raw magic, whose power doesn't even leave Naruto unscathed.

Having life magic, whatever difference that seems to make, the fact that Kyuubi couldn't hurt Sasuke, wouldn't hurt him—the one time Naruto had tried to ask him more about it, Kyuubi even bristled, all but snarled at Naruto, as if the mere thought of the question was a personal affront, in the rare instance he spoke over Naruto, addressing Sasuke directly.

Sachi will always be Shakti. And you are Sachi. You are Sachi.

There are many things I should believe myself capable of doing, in the past, many things I believe I may have done, yet to cause you harm Sachi, that, I cannot do—that, I would never do.

Never would I even think it.

As adamant as Kyuubi had been, it's no surprise Kyuubi wants nothing to do with his and Naruto's spars. He hasn't said anything against it, or at least, to him, Kyuubi hasn't given any opinion about it, if he has one.

He and Naruto probably don't spar often enough to keep Kyuubi's attention. It usually happens when he's staying with his brother, which happens every other week, at best, and only when Naruto isn't busy; when he's with his parents at the Capital, even with either Neji or Sai with him, the only place he's been consistently allowed to visit is Iyashi's office.

The times they do get to spar, though, Naruto likes to take him to one of the smaller recreational facilities on the Academy's campus, the Vega, where a lot of the Academy's trainees and civilian students hang out during their down time, but what it has is a little more exclusive: an area only approved, prospective candidates for the SFTI programme have access to, the only recreational facility on campus that offers an entire floor devoted to rooms with flight simulation chambers.

(At this point, Naruto's practically a shoo-in for the SFTI programme. He already passed the preliminary for the intermediate pilot exam, is already working towards getting his provisional military licence, having already proved himself fully capable of flying small fighter ships on his own, without indirect supervision.

Everything Naruto's accomplished, everything he continues to do, how hard he's been working to achieve his dream, he couldn't be prouder of Naruto for it. Just being able to see the smile on Naruto's face, how happy Naruto had been, that day Naruto nearly bowled him over in his excitement, barely contained, when he blurted out the news that he'd passed, grabbing Sasuke in a tight hug, in a partial spin, nearly lifting him off the floor.

In another lifetime, maybe he could've had the opportunity to experience that, too, maybe he could've...

Fortunately, despite his own restricted access as a guest, he still has Naruto's code to use the flight simulator chambers, since prospective SFTI candidates are allowed to have plus-ones, if they pass the qualifications; it's a measure probably meant to recruit more trainees, but it's a bit of a silver lining, in the sense that he gets clock in hours under Naruto's number.

To be fair, though, the hours themselves don't count towards actual credit hours, only used to keep track of machine use, which is fine, because Naruto's always there with him, anyway.)

The two larger recreational facilities have a broader range of dedicated training equipment, alongside both a pool and gym indoors, as well as designated outdoor areas for sparring rings, obstacle courses (a host of things, to say the least), so those tend to be more popular, still relatively crowded even outside of peak hours.

The Vega doesn't have as many amenities, but, like seemingly every building on base, it's still a highly secure facility. It's not the kind of place where anyone can just go in and out, with access each trainee recreational facility treated as a privilege that can easily be taken away.

It helps that the Academy has a two-strike disciplinary system, with the first strike putting a trainee on mandatory probation, which includes the immediate suspension a trainee's access to all recreational facilities; and the second strike leading not only to expulsion from Nagi's academy, but also barring that trainee from any applying to or even working for any other government institution in the Alliance, pretty much blacklisting them and destroying whatever prospect they may once had for a military career.

It's not the perfect deterrent, but it is part of the culture that works to keep the base safe, harsh enough that the need for that level of disciplinary action is very rare; among trainees, there's also the implicit understanding that they are expected to police themselves, based on mutual responsibility, part of the group mentality that encourages them to keep each other in check, hold each other accountable, before anyone's behaviour would even escalate to the stage where action is required.

Although living on base is safe enough that his parents agreed to his brother's offer to take him in, Naruto's the one who takes him to the Vega, even though he technically can get in on his own, having a guest pass sponsored under Naruto's name—with a lot of things, recently, he's noticed, as long as he's with Naruto, his parents don't seem to mind as much, especially with the kinds things they were so opposed to giving him permission to do before.

Even with such a high percentage of trainees being magic users, though, being seen on campus isn't a big deal anymore, if it ever was. Apart from maybe the occasional curious glance or two, simply showing up with Naruto isn't enough to turn heads. The staff and security at Vega know them, know him. Everyone else, for the most, keeps to themselves.

They still don't have chance to spar that much, but they sort of have a system going for them; they try to plan as much in advance, around his appointments with Iyashi and Naruto's schedule, with Naruto reserving one of the small, private multipurpose rooms, for a timeslot late in the afternoon.

There is one room in particular that Naruto likes, however, and he'll try to book it whenever he can, from another cadet, even traded in an owed favour for it, once or twice.

"Because of the mats," was all he said about it at first, stretching his arms over his head, as Sasuke continued to stretch his legs beside him. "That's why it's always the first room to go. Everybody knows about the mats."

"The mats?"

"For some reason, it feels like the mats are a lot more cushy there."

Initially, he thought Naruto was just exaggerating, because, well, Naruto tends to exaggerate (something Naruto himself will even own up to), and it didn't seem like a preferences for mats could make that much of a difference.

Now, though, now he's quickly beginning to understand the apparent popularity behind room 326.

"Again."

"Sasuke..."

"Don't, Naruto. I can do this. Just..."

Naruto raises his eyebrows, although he doesn't say anything, stands unguarded, as he watches Sasuke slowly pick himself up from the matted floor. He doesn't offer to help, either, as his eyes narrow, doesn't move to help, despite the slight tension in his shoulders, the slight twitch in his right hand he keeps at his side.

Beneath Naruto's scrutinising stare, Sasuke breathes out, closes his mouth, swallows, holding Naruto's gaze, as he stands on his own. He readies his stance, spreads his feet a little further apart, anchoring his weight on his back heel.

Even having to acknowledge how much stronger Naruto is, even without magic, how much Naruto's still purposely holding back, he's still determined to hold out for as long as he can, because he's going to do this on his own terms—he needs to do this.

Naruto may not be taking this seriously, but the way he used to be, Sasuke can't go back to that. He won't allow himself to go back to that.

He's tired of only being seen as someone who needs to be protected, like he'll never be capable of fending for himself, that he can't do anything on his own, bound by the assumption that he'll always be someone else's responsibility, all because of something he can't even change—he's just tired of constantly being treated like he's we—

"All right, then." Naruto gives a slow, backwards roll of his shoulders, cocking his head from one side to the other, cracking his neck. He raises his hands in front of his chest, alternating between fists to crack his knuckles, a force of habit rather than a show of force.

Hand-to-hand is easily Naruto's forte, where he really shines. He prefers to fight with his fists, whether he's using magic or not, and although he's not the type to needlessly show off, he knows how to use that specialty to his advantage. With his stamina and reserves, with the sheer breadth of the power at his disposal, the longer he goes, usually the better the odds are in his favour.

There's a flicker in Naruto's gaze, as he lowers his hands, a fleeting emotion that briefly shades his eyes a darker blue. The stance he takes is different, though. Up until now, he's been taking a more defensive position during their spars, in between the occasional counterattack, on the whole, following Sasuke's pace, with Sasuke still yet to get in an earnest hit that Naruto hasn't been able to either block or evade.

"You ready?"

Sasuke gives a slight nod. "Again."

Deeply, Naruto breathes in, takes a moment, with the slow fall of his chest, takes a deep breath out.

And then, Naruto's right on him, lunging without warning, suddenly there, before Sasuke has time to blink, Naruto suddenly right in front of him—harder, going at him, despite the still evident restraint, steadfast in his assault, giving him no quarter, attacking from the front, exploiting where Sasuke's left open from the side, giving him no choice but to be on the defensive, closer and closer, quickly edging Sasuke towards the wall.

He sees the back of Naruto's hand aiming at his side, catches the movement of Naruto's body in his peripheral—too late, he recognises the feint, as Naruto sweeps him off his feet, knocking him off-balance with a knee pressed against the inside of his leg, Naruto's palm striking his chest, his other hand gripping Sasuke's side, as he pushes Sasuke to the floor.

His back hits the mat, seems to make a loud smack that reverberates throughout the room, and does little to cushion his landing, after the umpteenth time of being thrown down.

Already moving to slow Sasuke's fall, Naruto follows with him, lands without falling on top of him, keeps him pinned down with hands that hold Sasuke's arms to the mat, hold them on either side of Sasuke's head, with a knee planted across Sasuke legs, keeping him subdued.

"Yield, Sasuke."

Gritting his teeth, Sasuke starts to push up, tries to shove him off, bucks against Naruto's weight that won't move.

"Yield."

Lips drawn tight, Naruto stares down at him, reflected in blue eyes an infuriately calm resolve.

Sasuke swallows, breathes in as his mouth parts, breathing out too harsh, still struggling against Naruto's arms caging him in, Naruto's hands pressing down a little harder on him, because if there's a point Naruto's trying to make, he doesn't want it to be this.

Naruto remains unrelenting, against Sasuke's next attempt to get from underneath him, giving Sasuke's arms another firm squeeze, without applying too much pressure, applies just enough for emphasis.

This time, however, Sasuke doesn't try to get up. He lets his head fall back, lets his eyes fall closed, breathes out with a huff, chest heaving. His limbs turn loose, body turned lax, as he just lies there, trying to catch his breath.

Seemingly satisfied, Naruto finally decides to let up, moving his leg and releasing Sasuke's wrists.

"...hey."

Sasuke feels the air to the left of him shift, with the low rustle of fabric, the sound of Naruto shuffling beside him, feels the brief brush of Naruto's knee against the outside of his thigh.

"You still alive down there?"

At the finger poking his shoulder, Sasuke gives a low hum, opens his eyes, gazed fixed on the plain, near pristine white ceiling. "You proved your point."

"Well, I wasn't trying to prove a point, but I will say you lasted longer than last time. Longer than you usually do."

Slowly, Sasuke turns his head from the ceiling, turning his gaze blank towards Naruto.

"And you're doing a lot better overall."

"Naruto..."

Objectively, that's what he wants to think, too, that these past few months haven't been all for nothing, and yet, even receiving that kind of praise from Naruto, or maybe since because he's hearing it from Naruto, the words feel more placating than anything, don't do much to detract from a continued sense of disappointment that often renders him numb, every so often an agitation that echoes his own resentment at the thought of everything he does being so utterly useless, because some days it still feels as if he's made no progress at all.

No matter what he does, it's still not enough, feels like it'll never be enough. Despite how hard he's been training, deliberately pushing well past his own limitations, limitations everyone seems so quick to remind him of, in his efforts to catch up to Naruto, almost every time, it just feels like he's fallen that much further behind.

He doesn't want to think he's really so pathetic, but he can't help but wonder if one day Naruto will ever stop looking back, will ever stop waiting for him, even in the face of all the promises Naruto still likes to make, that he'll eventually just decide to move on, already established in a world that had long ago grown beyond Sasuke's reach.

"No, I mean it. You're getting a lot better," Naruto says, his voice firm, seemingly so assured in his own words. "You really are."

With a sigh, Sasuke begins to sit up. It takes a moment, somewhat longer than he wants to admit, because he's still a little winded, but he manages enough to prop himself up by the wall, all but sagged against it, crossing his legs, staring straight ahead, arms dropped over his lap.

"You're getting pretty fast, too."

Sasuke glances at Naruto from the corner of his eye. "...you're still faster."

"Yeah, I am still faster than you, but I think you're conveniently forgetting just how hard you can actually hit." Naruto pauses, seemingly mulling over his own words. "Which is a little too hard for my tastes, to be honest."

Sasuke snorts.

"I mean, I've been hit by you before," Naruto says, wry. "And since I'm not really trying to get hit by you again..."

He shifts to scoot himself closer, sitting in front of Sasuke. Raising his hand, carefully, he takes hold of Sasuke's chin, just as careful guiding Sasuke's face towards him, with a gaze that meets Sasuke's own, blue eyes searching, silently assessing, displaying the rare kind of seriousness he usually saves for moments like this, a gentle sort of stern, relaying an unspoken demand for Sasuke to let him see.

Sasuke leans a little forward, unconsciously leans closer towards the touch, against the dark grey material of the fingerless glove covering Naruto's palm.

He knows better than to try to fight Naruto on this. By now, it's more or less just routine, Naruto simply doing what he's always done, caught between trying not to appear too obvious with his concern, and trying to make sure Sasuke's not so exhausted that he'll become more susceptible to his magic or his empathy.

Still, it can be a little annoying at times, unnecessary, too, even though he knows Naruto only means well, because it almost feels like Naruto's expecting something to be wrong. He doesn't fault Naruto for it, but it's a continuous reminder of all those times when so many things did go wrong, when it felt like almost anything was enough to set off an empathetic attack, without his brother or Naruto beside him, those days he was afraid of falling asleep, afraid of his own shadow, even when he felt safer being alone.

(Admittedly, against both their better judgments, if only to make him feel better, Naruto's probably indulged him with a lot of things, too many things probably, but whenever a situation does involve his magic or his empathy, more and more, Naruto's becoming like Itachi and especially hard to sway.)

But he's fine.

He's always been okay with Naruto.

"...you keep saying you're fine, you know. Even when you probably aren't. When you don't have to be."

"I'm fine, Naruto," Sasuke murmurs. "You're the one who needs to stop worrying about me so much."

Naruto stares a little longer, for a few seconds more, gaze softened by the momentary sheen in his eyes, but then it's gone, and whatever he sees, or doesn't see, seems enough to satisfy him, when he lets his hand fall away from Sasuke's chin, letting out a light scoff.

"Who even said I'm worrying about you, huh? If anything, the one I really should be worried about is me, because if you brother finds out we've been at it for this long, guess who he's going to blame?"

As dramatic as Naruto likes to be, no, he's not the one Itachi's going to blame.

It's never Naruto Itachi blames.

Sasuke gives a slight downward tilt of his chin, giving another low hum. "Are you going to tell on me?"

"I probably should."

Probably.

"I'm the one who keeps pushing you to let me do more, though. I don't see how my brother would have any reason to blame you, when something like that isn't even your fault."

"You know," Naruto begins slowly, squinting, face inching towards Sasuke's a little closer, "somehow, the more you keep saying things like that, the more I'm starting to think you actually do want me to get in trouble with Itachi."

"How would I get you in trouble? Considering all the things you've done, haven't you already gotten in enough trouble on your own?"

Naruto draws his head back, blinks. "...okay, yeah, that probably is true— but that doesn't mean I need you adding to it, all right."

"Is that all?"

"Really, I thought we would've already gotten past this whole thing about you not listening to me, by now," Naruto says. "You do know that I'm still older than you, right."

"I know you are."

He also knows Naruto doesn't really mean anything by it, as often as Naruto likes to think it could ever be a valid argument, like that's what gives him any kind of authority, almost as bad as his senseless assertion that being older somehow means he's always supposed to be the taller one.

"Your brother and your dad are already kind of tall, so where you are right now is probably a good place for you to stop. It's bad enough you don't listen to me. I don't need you to be taller than me on top of that, too, so it's important for you to stay like this and make sure you don't grow anymore."

"Sure, Naruto."

"No, no—listen, I don't know why you suddenly want to start growing taller at this age, but even if you do get taller than me one day, it doesn't matter how tall you get because I'll always be older than you—at least let me have that, okay."

Again, Naruto really just likes being dramatic.

"Seriously, though," Naruto says, "it's already been an hour." He looks to his right, glancing towards the digital clock hanging on the wall. "Well, almost an hour. Close enough."

"Really?" Sasuke blinks, following Naruto's gaze and reading the time on the clock.

"Itachi's probably going to get on me for letting you talk me into staying here this long, as it is."

Honestly, it doesn't feel like that much time has passed at all. Not counting their warm-up, exhaustion usually starts to kick in by the thirty-minute mark, give or take, which is when they start cooling down with a low-intensity set, rotating with body weight exercises. Of course it's nothing compared to Naruto's normal training routine, but the fact that it's almost been an hour into their training also means Naruto really hadn't been trying to placate him.

If that is the case, though...

"I can keep goi—"

"Yeah, uh, maybe that's what you want to think. But I have to go through another one of Kakashi's intensives way too early in the morning, so..."

Never mind that Naruto still looks like he hadn't even broken a sweat, while Sasuke almost felt like his entire body was on the verge of collapse.

There's no point in calling Naruto out on the obvious excuse, though.

"We probably should've called it quits earlier." Naruto gives a considering pause. "At least it's not really that late, I guess. We still have time to cool down for a bit, change, and then I'll take you home, so I can get back to the dorms and hit the showers."

"That's fine. I think I just need some water. And I'll do the rest of my stretches at home."

Naruto starts to stand, while bending his knees, holds out a hand.

Sasuke stares at said hand.

"I mean, unless you want me to car—"

"You're not carrying me, Naruto."

Naruto flaunts one of his brighter grins, teasing and far too wide, the same wayward kind of grin that preceded the last time Naruto had tried to carry him, when they were still kids, maybe a year or so before Naruto entered the Academy.

(Because he was getting stronger, because he was being allowed to train more seriously, and because he'd apparently somehow gotten into his head that it was good idea to bring Sasuke into his excuse to demonstrate this, that day, Naruto bet he was strong enough now that he could pick up Sasuke on his own, and hold Sasuke long enough to carry him across the room.

"See, I got this. I totally—"

"Wait, Naruto, don't just—"

Despite Naruto's best attempts to assure him, as Naruto began to pick him up by the waist, while Sasuke held his arms around Naruto's shoulders, hanging on for dear life, Naruto ended up getting absolutely nothing—immediately, they began to topple over, their inevitable fall broken only by the sheer luck of Naruto's bed being where it was.

And then Naruto even had the nerve to be sheepish about the whole thing, with that same kind of wayward grin, lying underneath Sasuke, if possible, grinning wider at Sasuke's pointed glare.)

Sasuke sighs, reaching to take Naruto's hand.

"Come on, then." With a grunt, Naruto starts to pull him up, seemingly effortless, in a single motion, easily hoists Sasuke to his feet. "Up, you go."

While the transition from sitting to standing leaves him a little lightheaded, Sasuke doesn't think he stood up too fast, but he still finds himself stumbling forward, for some reason, somehow finds himself falling into Naruto's arms already reaching out to catch him.

"Whoa—careful."

The near fall takes even Sasuke by surprise, presses him closer to Naruto's chest, as Naruto takes on more of Sasuke's weight, quickly adjusting his arms to support him.

Naruto doesn't shy away from showing his concern, although his eyes are only slightly wide, when he peers down, as Sasuke peers into an all-encompassing blue, blinks, when he looks up to meet Naruto's gaze, vaguely taking note of the distance in height grown shorter between them, with his line of sight now reaching a little below Naruto's nose.

Suddenly, his entire body feels heavy, for a moment, all of a sudden leaves him feeling utterly boneless, as the adrenaline finally leaves him, as if his legs are going to give way beneath him.

"...it's okay," Naruto whispers, as the words disappear between them, almost says too soft, even when Sasuke feels his body slump closer, letting his head fall to rest over Naruto's shoulder. "I got you."

He's not so helpless that Naruto should have to hold him upright, but maybe he did overdo it a little, even overestimating what'd he be able to put his body through, and maybe there is some truth in all the accusations that he tends to push himself without thinking.

"...see," Naruto murmurs, still soft, breath hot tickling the shell of Sasuke's ear, sending a shiver coursing down the length of Sasuke's spine, as he places a hand over the back of Sasuke's neck . "It's what I keep telling you."

Sasuke breathes against the crook of Naruto's neck, inhaling the still surprisingly strong scent of the generic soap from Naruto's monthly supply kit. With a sigh, he begins to relax, at the tingle across his skin, again breathes in, at the touch marked by the warmth emanating from Naruto's fingers.

Even if he isn't always able to feel the warmth from Naruto's empathy, he can still feel the warmth of Naruto's familiarity, a touch that grounds him, from just being around him, when it's simply enough having Naruto beside him—a warmth that's always separated Naruto from anyone else, even from his brother, a warmth that's never had anything to do with Naruto being another magic user.

He resists the urge to take off his gloves, slowly raises arms to reach around Naruto's waist instead, fingers curling around the soft material of Naruto's shirt gathered in his palms.

It's been a while since they've done this, almost an eternity it seems, since he's even thought to really pay attention to all the other ways Naruto's already changed, not just in terms of how far Naruto's come with his magic, but physically and emotionally, too.

They don't see each other nearly every day anymore, but with each time he does see Naruto, with each change he happens to see, each becoming more apparent than the last, every seemingly minute change that steadily becomes the accumulation of too many different things at once, over the years, so many things that have not only changed between them, but changed about Naruto—physical changes on their own he wouldn't have thought to be so stark, and yet the differences are there, in Naruto's appearance alone, changes that further highlighting all the ways that Naruto's grown where Sasuke hasn't.

Height's never been the issue. He's used to Naruto being taller, but now, suddenly, Naruto's broader, too, not so much the kid he used to be, too lanky for his upper body, finally starting to grow into his arms that once seemed too long for his frame, unexpectedly, arms that feel more solid around him, feel more defined, as he feels Naruto's other hand move to gently rub his back, gently smoothing down the wrinkles of his shirt.

Or maybe he just wasn't paying enough attention before, to the small sorts of details that get lost from the countless times he's seen Naruto dressed like this, in his usual training gear, in a pair of loose pants coloured ridiculously bright, arms bared through either a black or grey, sleeveless undershirt that fits him a little snug, a standard-issue shirt made out of compression material similar to thin fabric used in the long-sleeved shirts Sasuke normally wears, and yet, on Naruto, somehow, the way Naruto wears it seems...

It's in the same way he can feel the strength in Naruto's back, covered by the thin layer of Naruto's shirt, as Naruto's muscles slowly expand and contract, as the remaining tension leaves Naruto's body, the kind strength tangible beneath Sasuke's hands.

It's not the only strength Naruto has, but it's the appearance of the kind of strong Naruto so readily used to say one day he was going to be, just as easily as he promised he'd always be the one to take care of him, suddenly the only apparent reason he needed to be stronger, and there's a growing part of Sasuke that help can't but think that maybe Naruto was forced to grow up too fast, gnaws at him in the middle of the night sometimes, just like with his brother (just like when his brother lost Shisui), so much of what Naruto's probably had to give up because of him.

Except Naruto still acts like nothing could ever hold him down, acts like there isn't anything that could ever come between them, although even then there's something different about the way Naruto carries himself now, ultimately still the same brash and self-assured kind of guy he's always been, but something Sasuke can't exactly define, maybe the kind of thing that simply comes with maturity, a deeper sort of emotional certainty that follows behind even the smallest things Naruto does.

They're only around a year apart in age, but it's still amazing how so little time between them can seemingly make so much of a difference. Already, next year is going to be Naruto's third year at the Academy.

At fifteen, only a few weeks away from sixteen, in this one moment, suddenly, Naruto's such a far cry from the clumsy kid who once broke his leg trying to use his magic to scale a fence, with plans to then go across the roof, because he and some other kids from their old neighbourhood were pretending to be ninja.

There's even something about his hair, not that much different from how he's usually worn it, but it's longer on the sides, longer than he likes to keep it, nearly as long as his dad's, although he'll probably get it cut soon; for trainees and enlistees, the grooming standards aren't as strict as they were once, but Naruto says it's still a pain to have to keep up with, since his hair grows so fast, and especially when he has such a busy schedule.

"I'm lucky it takes a little while longer for my facial hair to grow, but that's why I always make sure to shave, because it'd take a long time for a beard to grow in, and I don't think I'd look right with a beard just yet."

"What facial hair do you even have to shave, Naruto?"

"It's not there because I already shaved it, I said. I shaved it."

With his hair longer, Naruto really does look like his dad, but his face is still like his mom's, a little more round, but only slightly softer now, with the baby fat in his cheeks all but gone.

His smile hasn't changed, though, bringing the same kind of light to blue eyes, maybe one of the few things about him physically that doesn't seem so far gone beyond Sasuke's reach.

But despite Naruto's appearance, among so many things that have changed, the Naruto he's holding in arms, the Naruto who somehow suddenly feels heavier in his hold, this Naruto, it's still his Naruto, the Naruto he's always known— one of the very constants Sasuke still has in his life, one of the very few people he's always been able to turn to, the very same person who should know him so thoroughly well.

He's already accepted that Naruto's not always going to be there. Even with all the promises Naruto still likes to make, there are just some promises he'll never be able to keep, but sometimes, when it's just the two of them, just Naruto and him, simply having moments like this, it almost feels like everything...

It's all so childish—all of it, it's just so stupid, that there was ever a time he even once believed simply being near Naruto would make everything okay, would make everything better, simply because Naruto always seemed to know exactly what to do, immediately, knew how to calm him, seemed to always know exactly what to say.

But he's too old for that. They're both too old for that. And that's why he can't keep doing this, allowing all the differences still growing between them to become that much more apparent, allowing Naruto to keep doing the same things he's always done before—not if he wants Naruto to truly start seeing him differently, to be more than just someone Naruto has to feel obligated to protect, to prove that all the progress he's made hasn't been for nothing and won't so easily come undone.

He's already fourteen. Even under his circumstances, he shouldn't need to depend so much on other people for his own emotional wellbeing, however small that circle of people actually is, because he doesn't want to forever be someone else's responsibility—not his parents' or his brother's, not Naruto's or Kushina and Minato's.

He just doesn't want to be a burden for the rest of his life.

He needs not to be that.

Because it's still far too easy like this, how easy it's always been, having this kind of closeness with Naruto, how easy he wishes it still could be, wants it to last, the apparent ease of it he can't deny he misses, how much simpler everything once seemed back then.

Even if it's starting to feel like a different kind of closeness now, one often marked Naruto's more careful touches, marked by a strange sort of hesitation from Naruto that wasn't there before, but still a closeness he doesn't mind fall into, from Naruto, the same kind of warmth he's used to, and yet it somehow seems new, caught between them, too tenuous to name, something that feels all at once too fleeting, an increasingly more distinctive warmth that still doesn't have anything to do with Naruto's empathy.

But, then, sometimes it starts to hurt, too. Just as much, an overwhelming sense of loss that scares him, as he pulls tighter his arms around Naruto, doesn't meant to pull himself closer, fingers pressed hard against his palms, hands clutching the material of Naruto's shirt, but even wearing gloves, even through this kind of touch, there's something in him shaking, although he realises he's not even moving, but somehow he knows—he already knows.

And it hurts, slips inside his mind, tendrils of an emotion that just hurts. It hurts—it always hurts, no longer buried where it once was, where it's always been, what will remain, as if gravity were pushing down on his chest, clawing at his lungs, an indescribable grief trying to carve him hollow, all around him darkness, buried within, this terrible, cold sensation, this vague sense of something he can't quite remember, yet renders him breathless, renders his body still, leaves him drowning on air, falling weightless towards nothing, but he wasn't ther—

(Even if they're no longer with him, even though they promised he'd never again be alone, because he still needs them, because he never meant to leave Kyuubi to be lef—)

He wasn't th—

There's a gentle lull in the back of his mind, as his fingers flex and unfurl, a soothing sensation that relaxes his grip on Naruto's shirt, reminds him that he's not alone, because he wasn't...

His thoughts turn adrift, float obscured, lost to him beneath the familiar pull of his magic, as he settles against Naruto, settles into a distinctive warmth that surrounds him.

Absently, he wonders, if this is how Naruto felt, all those times he used to talk about Sa—

"Sasuke?"

Slowly, Sasuke begins to open his eyes, not sure when they fell closed. "...hm?"

"You didn't fall asleep on me, did you?" comes another soft murmur near his ear, traced with the careful tenor of Naruto's voice, lower than what it used to be, but that's not what Naruto's really asking.

Contrary to what it seems everyone still likes to assume, it's not necessarily that he ignores his emotions. In the end, that's never worked well for anyone involved, but it is easier to keep certain emotions in check, when he doesn't have to openly acknowledge him.

He's not like Naruto in that regard. Although he's naturally more reserved, anyway, he's also just not that kind of person. However, numerous sessions with Iyashi aside, preferring not to talk about his emotions doesn't mean he isn't attuned to what he feels. He's had far too much time to himself to even try to pretend otherwise.

The default state of his empathy, the depth to which he can experience emotions, no one can ever begin to understand that, what it's like to always feel too much, and if he's found a way to help him better cope, a means that actually still works, forgive him for not being so eager to give that up any time soon.

(He already hears enough from Iyashi, about his questionable choice of coping skills, and what Iyashi likes to say about the potential risk of a nearly inevitable backlash from keeping his emotions to himself for too long, because his shields still aren't where Iyashi would like them to be.)

But it's just Naruto.

For a moment more, he doesn't move, as if nothing had changed between them, lets himself stay close, as if everything could ever return to the way it was before, because it shouldn't matter when it's just—

He pushes away the thought, dropping his arms, carefully begins to push away from Naruto, because he can't hide behind him anymore.

Running to Naruto at the first sign of something being wrong, a near immediate response, instilled within him, still far too immediate a thought, he's too old for that.

For Naruto to still have such an effect on him, he shouldn't need it—he doesn't need it.

He doesn't want it.

"No, I didn't fall asleep," he says, lifting his head from Naruto's shoulder, as Naruto's hand falls away from the back of his neck, as Naruto's arm around him lets go.

With soft exhale, he takes a couple steps back, tells himself he's not reeling from the sudden loss of warmth, standing on legs that still feel a little too wobbly, but it's nothing that won't pass with time. He's steady enough on his own.

"You all right?" Naruto says, almost frowning, lifting a hand that immediately stills raised between them, stilted falling back to his side.

At most, Naruto probably just thinks he's tired, but Sasuke knows—he already knows, the moment he even reaches out for Naruto, the moment he even thinks to bring himself closer, to go right back where he started, Naruto wouldn't hesitate to let him, some many time he's already looked to Naruto before, so many times Naruto's always been...

But he's fine.

He's fine.

He just wishes he didn't have to wake up from any of this.

"It's nothing. Just a little more sore than I expected."

"That's all?"

"I already told you I'm fine, Naruto."

"Yeah, okay." Naruto heaves a sigh, a reluctant show of compromise. "If you say so. But I meant what I said earlier, about you getting better."

"You don't have to humour me."

Naruto snorts, raising his arms and crossing them behind his head. "Since when is telling the truth humouring you?" he says. "Even though we can't go all out against each other, now that you have more experience, it's definitely starting to make a difference."

Which is just a nicer, surprisingly more tactful way of not pointing out the obvious. However, even if he were to use his own magic, even against Naruto's current level while holding back, he doubts he'd stand that much better of a chance.

"Really, Sasuke, I'm not humouring you. I just..."

Slowly, Naruto lowers his arms, tries for a softer sort of smile that ends up giving Sasuke pause, when Sasuke looks into a familiar gaze, once more, a gentleness in blue eyes that's somehow started to become more distant all the same.

He blinks when he realises he's been staring, probably a little longer than necessary. Maybe.

"I know it probably might not seem like it," Naruto says, running a hand through his hair, "and you might feel like you're not getting anywhere, but that's only because I got a head start, and I had the time to learn a lot of things, so there's no reason for you to...

"What I'm trying to say—what I mean, is that I know you keep pushing because you want to get stronger, but that doesn't mean you have to be so hard on yourself, you know."

"...but you do?"

Naruto falters, the hand running through his hair stilled. His mouth begins to part, but nothing comes out.

Of course he doesn't have anything to say.

But neither was Sasuke expecting him to.

Naruto drops his hand, through a poor attempt at deflection, tries to tack on another smile.

"Anyway," he says, already heading towards the other side of the room, towards the small table where two water bottles sit. He picks up both bottles and makes his way back to Sasuke.

"Well, at least with you getting better, it means you won't have to pull on your life magic as much," he says, then adds, "or at least you haven't been, lately."

"Mm."

"Still, I know this is the last time we get to spar before I have to leave for a while, so just remember what I said. And keep up with what you can."

"Are you packed already?" Sasuke says, taking the water bottle Naruto hands to him.

"Not yet." Naruto twists off the cap of his water bottle, lifting the rim to his mouth and taking a long sip. He swallows, smacking his lips with a sigh. "I should probably pack before this weekend—actually, I should definitely pack before this weekend. Tomorrow, even."

Sasuke bites at the corner of his lip, looking down at the water bottle he's holding.

"Hey..."

At Naruto's voice, he looks up.

"I won't be gone that long. It'll only be a week." Naruto offers a soft smile, in his eyes, the very same sort of resolute assurance that still has an effect on him Sasuke tries to ignore. "You don't have to worry."

"I didn't say I was worried." Sasuke takes a quick sip of his water, swallows too fast. "I didn't say anything."

As if Sasuke hadn't said anything, Naruto ignores him. "Plus, Iuka's been assigned our training supervisor. And then Shikamaru's been officially chosen as our squad leader, even though he tried to get out of it by saying he's being forced into the inconvenient kind of responsibility that involves giving him entirely too much work.

"But even he can't get away from how smart he is, and I don't think he really minds being put in that kind of leadership position, despite how lazy he still is about a lot of other things."

With that kind of ringing endorsement, there's no reason for Sasuke to worry, because there's apparently nothing for him to worry about, even if it'll be Naruto's first mission off world, and it'll put them the farthest they've ever been apart.

"I'm not worried about you going on your first mission off world."

"Training exercise," Naruto is quick to correct. "My first training exercise."

Sasuke stares.

"That's still technically a support mission, yeah," Naruto concedes, "but it's the same kind of run-of-the-mill support mission that every cadet has to go on during their second year. Basically, just to help us get used to our squad assignments, improve the team dynamic out on the field and all that."

He makes a careless wave with his free hand gesturing between them.

"I mean, we're just moving supplies to one of the refugee transition centres on Doraf. And it's not like we're actually enlistees or anything, so there's only so much we get to do there, anyway, you know. Nothing's going to happen."

There's no way Naruto can say something like that for sure, but he's also still in the habit of making promises, even if they're the kind Sasuke already knows Naruto can't always keep.

"Sasuke?"

"I know."

Naruto's sighs, glancing down at his nearly emptied water bottle. He looks up, before making his way towards the door. "Let's get you back before your brother decides to send the MPs after me."

"He's not even on Nagi, Naruto. He's not going to send anyone after you."

"Tch. Says you. But I already know Itachi has ways of knowing things." Naruto pauses near the entrance, stopped where their shoes are, as he waits for Sasuke. "Are you with Shadow One or Shadow Two tonight?"

"Sai. He's probably working on his sketchbook again. That's usually why he doesn't mind waiting for me."

"Still?"

With a shrug of his shoulders, Sasuke leans down to slip into his shoes. "He says it's peaceful for him."

"When's Itachi getting back?"

"Monday, at the earliest. That's when he said he's trying to get back, but..."

But Sasuke knows better than to get his hopes up.

"Oh."

"It's fine. Sai's taking me back to my parents tonight, anyway, so at least I still got to spend time with you before you have to leave."

There's a slight flush to Naruto's cheeks. "Y-yeah, that's..."

"It's what?"

"Nothing, I..." Naruto gives a small shake of his head. "Never mind. I'm just really hoping Itachi doesn't get on me for keeping you here this late."

"If I tell you he won't, will you let me drive this time?"

There's a short pause, as Naruto's lips begin to quiver, where their eyes meet, a silent challenge between them, before Naruto throws his head back, dissolving into a full-blown, obnoxious laughter.

Really, though, it's not that funny.

"I can drive."

Granted, he doesn't exactly have his licence, not yet, but the minimum age to use class three, two-person transporters on public roads is only thirteen, with the exam for a licence available at fourteen, even though his parents still won't let him apply for it.

(Depending how things go this year, they said they'll think about it next year. Maybe. It's always maybe.)

But he's ridden on Naruto's transporter often enough, that it doesn't seem so hard to drive it.

It's not even the type to go that fast. It's an older model transporter Naruto was able to fix up on his own, during his down time; it was a gift from Iou, an old mechanic on base Naruto had been helping on and off, who then gave Naruto one of the transporters he'd been keeping in his garage.

"You can stop now."

With a hand on his chest, Naruto finally stops laughing long enough to catch his breath. "Oh...oh, you're real funny, you know that—real cute."

Sasuke rolls his eyes, left hand reaching for the keypad, fingers already entering the temporary passcode to open the door. "Let's go, Naruto."

"No, really," Naruto says, not protesting the hand on his back, Sasuke giving him a much needed nudge forward, pushing him out of the room. "It's like you're actually trying to get your brother to kill me."