white, surge red

by Sugahlei

Naruto struggles with some unexplained, unforeseen chakra fluctuations, and Sasuke, driven and consumed and convinced of his hatred, makes a bad decision. Everything spirals on beyond this point and Sasuke won't let Naruto beat him at this game. He's determined to win, no matter the cost. No matter what breaks.

6. six

!Warning/Disclaimer!

This story – this ancient, undying thing – is an angsty, sorta-dark unhappy love story. The characters don't belong to me, I just have fun throwing them together and dumping in the angst. Sasuke...is not in a good place, and Naruto isn't anywhere near normal, either. This story contains lots of sex and swearing, abuse/non-con and a road through the storm. Eventually. There's a lot of mental fuckery that comes first.

This is Rated R, for a reason. Please read accordingly.

...and if you were around when this was first put up, uh...Hi? I'm not dead? This fic has not and, I fear, will never die and I'm determined to see this shit through. As a bonus, this has been worked over and fixed for flow and clarification.

~white, surge red~

:part six:

(until day 31)

Sasuke's dreams, now, are of muted colors of soft grays and reds and blacks. By morning, he doesn't remember anything but the vague backwash of hate and fear and strange, clutching desperation. These things are pushed away with the embarrassment of lurching up out of sleep with clammy skin and the overwhelming urge to fight something, anything, throat aching and hands clenched.

He never dreams of anything more than colors. Nothing more. Never more than that.

-::-

Consensual.

Consensual implies a sort of surrender, submission. This tiny, bland item…such a small thing to have such heavy, disturbing echoes.

Naruto doesn't know he has it and the notion of it hovers within the corners of his mind, but Sasuke won't allow it any closer. He waits, nervous and giddy over it for the next eight days. Better to wait. Better to keep it from his thoughts by training or minor missions. Plan this. Harder to ignore it as every day brings him within touching distance—No, he tells himself. I will wait, wait and plan.

Even if it's tucked within reach, tucked away in Sasuke's holster, he sets himself to ignore the cold porcelain as firmly as he ignores Naruto's presence. He can't allow it out of reach—didn't dare, even as part of him writhes at the mere thought of what it would do—

Oh yes, too much of him is curious, wrongly curious. Sasuke knows, shuddering, that he shouldn't be so interested. It's not right. It can't be right. If it was different, if it made it better, easier, faster—

Sasuke stops and pulls his hand from the unobtrusive lump in his holster, scowling with no one around to see and pushes away a sense of something too close to panic.

Better to ignore it.

-::-

(day 33)

Two days later, Sasuke makes his decision and sets the bag of groceries onto the counter. His thumb brushes the round thing still hidden, eyes narrow in some amused conceit. Exhales. Refocuses on the bag before him, reaches up and opens the nearest cabinet. He had to finish.

Sasuke stops before he sets the apples on the glasses and examines the space before him. He knows he had just bought the canned vegetables that are nowhere to be seen. They should have been behind the mismatched assortment of glassware.

But they weren't.

Sasuke's first thought is that Naruto must be stashing them somewhere, but he knows the idiot never bothers to rearrange anything except for his ramen. Sasuke yanks open the next, scans it and opens another. Then the drawers, under the sink, and finally the near-empty pantry in a rising mix of anger and excitement. He drags his hand from his holster again. Stands and fumes.

It's not just the vegetables.

His second thought is that Naruto could be throwing them away just to piss him off. Sasuke wouldn't put it past him. A cupboard door cracks under the pressure of slamming shut and Sasuke storms from the kitchen.

Sasuke thuds a heel into the back of the couch to catch Naruto's attention. "—I just bought those vegetables, canned fruit and dried noodles yesterday, so where the fuck did you put them?"

Naruto opens one eye from where he had dragged it into the patch of sunlight earlier. "The what?" and has to react quickly to avoid the kick aimed at the middle of his back. "Asshole! Fuck off, I don't know what you're talking about!" he snaps with narrow blue eyes, watching him sullenly, stretched along the back of the couch, warm in sunlight that colored his hair white-gold and his skin paler than the Uchiha remembers it being—

"The stuff I've bought. It's gone. You're the only one here, so where is it, dobe?" Sasuke goes one step closer, standing over him, thumb to leather. You stupid little bastard he thinks and the porcelain shifts under his fingers. Stupid so stupid—

"Grow tits already, you bitch," Naruto mutters, finally shifting, propped on his side with a chin on his palm, eyes glinting blue through wheaten hair. "Why would I mess with that shit?"

Sasuke shouldn't take the bait—but something mocking in Naruto's face gnaws into him and Sasuke doesn't care that he should be beyond foolish manipulation like this. His mouth twitches into a snarl and his knees crack on the wood and before Naruto can stop him, he has a handful of the fabric at his shoulder, yanking the idiot away from his couch and dropping a heavy fist in the direction of his head.

Naruto takes the blow on his shoulder while rolling with momentum and lands hard on the floor, flat on his back. One sharp, harsh exhalation and Sasuke drags him far enough to straddle and pin his legs, enduring the elbow to the chin and the stars in his vision from biting his tongue, shrill cursing to match the scratching, hand flying to the holster for a few needles—

Fingers meet cool porcelain—oh god that's right he had—

Sasuke's next inhalation is measured and shallow, arm over Naruto's chest and one hand pinning a wrist to their sides. Deliberately? Sasuke thinks, small and bright and almost instantly forgotten. Did he want to—did he—would he do this on purpose? and doesn't know if it matters, because wouldn't that mean more pain? More pain and heartache and betrayal—the bastard had to know—

—no!—

Sasuke settles back without letting up the pressure, skin throbbing, dizzy, because Naruto isn't putting up a fight and he's torn between wanting one instead of just digging in the barb of besting him like this.

"Bastard," Naruto sneers. "Get off my chest, fucker, I can't breathe—"

There are no words of acceptance, and no refusal.

Sasuke wraps his hand over the orb, exhaling through the taste of blood, pulls his hand away and out again. "Turn over," he replies hoarsely, mocking.

"Fuckin' make me!" Naruto snaps. He pulls out an unexpected counter-twist and kicks, nearly tossing Sasuke off—but Sasuke lands on one elbow and Naruto is yanking on his hair—again with the hair, the goddamn stupid hair—

Sasuke bites at the wrist so near his face, grazing skin and trying to keep the blond from removing any of his hair. Hint of salt on his tongue, biting again and hears Naruto make a squalling pain-noise—

"Ow you dickless bitch—!"

—and when Naruto punches him with the other, Sasuke doesn't avoid it; it'd be pointless to try.

By the end of the scuffle, Sasuke's hair is all over his face but Naruto is still pinned, still on his back. Sasuke aches with bruises and it hurts to breathe but he doesn't even register it. Naruto has no expression with Sasuke's fingers under the shirt and Sasuke's certain he isn't waiting for one. He's snared too deep in the heat of the idiot beneath him and the sunlight around them.

"Someone could see," Naruto hisses, shoving at him. "You think I want someone to see this?"

"Do you think I care?" Sasuke mocks, narrows his eyes. Inhales. Curls his other hand around black porcelain. He stares down in challenge, waiting, certain, then thumbs open the button on Naruto's jeans and waits a little more.

—I don't care I don't I don't—

Naruto's hands twitch from their protective grasp over his bared stomach, flexing flat over skin. Then he stops, averting blue eyes to some point elsewhere. It's all Sasuke needs, almost sneering as he grabs the jeans and hikes them down past the knees and off. He pulls and spreads Naruto's legs across his lap, Sasuke rucks up his own cotton shirt and pushes it off over his head and finally catches the shift in Naruto's face when he unfastens the old, loose shorts he scavenged this morning.

Confusion or something very close to it—he isn't sure with the idiot's face turned away, but Sasuke would rather stay lost in the momentary victory and he pushes the shorts to his knees.

—I don't because I hate you I hate you hate you—

It takes a second or so to uncork the round vial and tip it into his palm. It spreads and smells almost herbal—

"—what's that?" Naruto asks, sharply, half-upright on his elbows.

"Shut up," Sasuke's voice is hoarse, his hand pushing until Naruto falls back, noting the blue eyes watching the way Sasuke closes his fingers together and the thumb smears the oil, dancing away from the expanse of skin and groin to watch Sasuke's insolent half-wild scowl—

Naruto watches with confused disbelief all the way until Sasuke sets a hand between his legs and puts it to use.

"What the hell?" Naruto exclaims, a touch shrill, up on the elbow again.

Sasuke glares and tests the slickness with a twist of his wrist, un-amused that Naruto had tried to kick him in the head by reflex. "Shut the fuck up, you stupid dobe!"

"But—but you're—" Naruto arches in confusion, squirming, because Sasuke knows what he's supposed to do, but it's still weird to feel. It's hot and tight around his fingers and he slides them experimentally, watching how the thighs twitch. "—you've just—what the fuck are you doing?"

"What does it feel like, idiot?" Sasuke raises a brow at him, twisting his wrists a little. Pushes a little harder than he should, probably, but he can't help it because Naruto's face is flushing red. A lip caught between his teeth, blue eyes still wide, slides his hand back and forth.

The noise of his hand pulling free is lost in Sasuke's urge to laugh; the blond is braced high enough to watch the way Sasuke wraps his oil-stained fingers around himself. The way it slicks over skin even as Sasuke pushes Naruto back down and onto him at the same time and, slipping, in—Naruto's hands clutch at his shoulder and forearm—as he slides in deeper with a groan, he thinks—

oh this makes a world of difference—

He thinks of Naruto's embarrassment forming on his face and drives his hips forward. Again with a rolling twist, again again again, watching, braced on his arms—

Until even Naruto turns his head to hide the muffled gasps, eyes flickering shut. Until his mouth shapes "—aahhw—the fuck–the hell is this?" in a high, breathy voice and Sasuke watches him arch and feels it echo around him—again until the slickness of their act unsnaps through Naruto without warning and the blond squeezes his eyes shut to avoid him. Watches the staggered breath, Naruto too quickly overcome to do anything more than clutch weakly, flushed, and throw his head back, the line of his throat exposed. Sasuke wants to bite it. He's staring.

The expression on his face is something Sasuke's never seen before, and it's all—

—sweet vindictive—

—Sasuke curves his back and sinks claws into his pleasure, holding it down as fiercely as he holds down Naruto, until Naruto does nothing more than gasp underneath him. Sasuke holds and lets his hips roll in slow undulation, falls within act of sex until the heat of the sun is out-matched, until Sasuke is sure that release will break him apart it's so vicious—a sudden glass-shard sweetness—

—the red of it hums in high octave behind his vision and the white-water noise fades from his skull before he manages to take a breath, biting away the sound so close to the one Naruto had made. His arms hurt to bend, but he does it anyway, buckling down over Naruto until he can breathe without holding himself up.

"…what the hell was that?" Naruto's voice is cracking, vibrating with the hollow rush of air in and out the chest. Sasuke can hear it through the wrinkled, rucked-up shirt; beneath it, echoing, he feels the thud-thump of the heart in his chest.

"…lube. I can't believe you're that stupid," Sasuke whispers, shuddering at the sensation of disengaging and rolls as gracefully as possible to his back in the sunlight. Sasuke hitches at his shorts so his legs can bend and stretches briefly in the sun, eyes shut and exhaling.

A leg still propped against the ratty couch, Naruto makes an irritable noise, face hidden. "Yeah, well, if you knew what it was, why'd you wait so long to use it, bastard?"

"Who says I want to use it every time?"

-::-

(day 37)

Tsunade seems quiet the next time she arrives to check his stability, but Naruto doesn't point it out; he's too busy avoiding her eyes to care if she's mad or not. She probably is. That in itself wasn't so bad, except Sasuke hadn't stopped by, yet. The lube thing, however new, is…different. It's almost acceptable.

Which meant, to Naruto's growing discomfort, that he might have to sit and control his temper just in case Sasuke decided to show up when Tsunade was still here. Fuck. She probably did know because Kakashi's an asshole sometimes and Naruto wouldn't put it past that stupid teacher to go off and tell her anyway—

"Well," she muses finally, drawing her hand back from his stomach. "Put your shirt on."

"Well, what?" Naruto replies, shrugging the t-shirt back over his head. He has to ask; he can't stand it. Naruto scowls after Tsunade does and hopes one last time the asshole won't show up—something about a situation with Tsunade and Sasuke having a stare-of-death contest made him feel sick.

"How am I today? Kakashi-bastard says I'm getting better—"

"…sex does wonders for you," she mutters barely under her breath.

"Eh—wha—Huh?"

"Well, it's true, isn't it? You think I wouldn't figure it out? Stop blushing already, you're sixteen, so act like it. Besides, you weren't going to tell me about it, were you?" She pauses with a piercing look and Naruto drowns in his embarrassment and the resounding She does know!

Then she keeps on talking. "We need to discuss this anyway, if I'm to ever figure this out. Does it bother you? Do you like it? Do you feel better afterwards?"

Naruto finally digs past the sheer mortification and grumbles an answer. "It's not—I don't…It doesn't bother me. I guess."

"And that's it?" Tsunade pokes him teasingly one hand to his stomach and the smooth skin of his chest. "Huh. How do you feel about it? How does the famous Uchiha kiss, anyway?"

Naruto blinks, awkward. "Kiss?" he says, indignant, blushing again. "Why would I—that's not funny! The bastard's never kissed me 'cause that classroom thing was an accident, dammit, and why the fuck would I want him to?"

Tsuande doesn't know whether to laugh or blink in puzzlement. "So, you don't like him?" she muses, raising a brow. "So why all the dramatics, brat? I probably shouldn't have let Jiraiya train you, huh?"

"That's not funny!" Naruto snaps, scowling and jerking his head around so he didn't have to look at her—exposing the uncomfortable blush spreading to the back of his neck. "Stupid hag. It's not.." He has to take a deep breath. "It's not like that."

Kiss? he baffles internally. Why the hell would we kiss? I don't want to kiss him—Should we be kissing?

"…and?"

"It's just—we just—" Naruto shrugs and crosses his arms, eyes averted, and struggles over the awkwardness of talking about something like this with Tsunade, of all people—never mind the fact she was a doctor, and over fifty. "It's not like that because I can't…stop it…sometimes. And Sasuke-bastard just...goes along with it, I guess."

"No, I suppose you can't." the Hokage reaches up and takes his chin in hand, turning his face to the side and touching his temple with her fingers. "Naruto…Instincts are just that, instincts. You may have them, just like thoughts, but you're not a simple animal. Not a demon. Not a monster. It doesn't change who you are."

Naruto doesn't respond. He can't believe her. He nods anyway, because it's what she wants to see. It didn't matter or not, something was changing, something was getting worse, and he hated that she couldn't see he didn't have a choice anymore.

-::-

(day 38)

Naruto's curled up on the couch under his blanket when Sasuke shows up before noon. Ignoring his presence, the first thing Sasuke does is set water to boil for rice and unpacks the replacement items bought that morning. Most of them he hides in a bag behind the fridge.

The bag of laundry from yesterday is undisturbed, so Sasuke drags that into the bedroom while the rice cooks.

-::-

The sex-thing has happened often enough that it seems almost normal to see Sasuke in various states of undress, to fight and fuck and annoy the hell out of him anytime he can, especially on the days he tries to follow Sasuke outside.

But today, underneath, Naruto is more disturbed by the soft fluttering panic. By now, after so long and after everything, he knows it's instinct like Tsunade said. Had to be. No way anyone would feel these things and do this—not with the passing out and sleeping and everything else—even Sasuke—it had to be instincts.

He doesn't care about Sasuke being fucking weird, or having sex with Sasuke anymore. Instinct could mean the fox is consuming him, bit by bit—oh god, what if it was? What if it was and he doesn't know what to do and can't begin to know how to control it. Control it—was it even possible? It was driving him mad, not knowing what to do, not when it should bother him more than it does, much more.

And all he can think of that day, examining the close-up weave of the blanket over his face is

—waiting still waiting—

impression that leaves him cold. It lodges in his mind and Naruto doesn't bother to fight the peculiar tension that prickles down his spine.

He can hear Sasuke's curses in the bedroom, and a moment later the other comes stomping through his living room. Naruto raises his senses to track his progression, sitting still and flexing hands under his blanket. Sasuke's chakra is jolting with whatever pissed him off again, but Naruto doesn't mind. He only waits, thoughts of instinct and worry fading.

A moment later, a shadow falls over his blanket and Naruto summons enough energy to whisper hoarsely "Get out—" and hears Sasuke's angry hiss-noise.

"What'd she do," Sasuke mocks. "Castrate you?"

"Fuck off," Naruto replies. His fingers hurt around the handle of the kunai but he doesn't let up his grip. "I mean it. Get out. I don't want shit from you today, you stupid bastard, get out—"

"—stupid dobe," is Sasuke's reply and as expected, tugs on the blanket—

Naruto slashes at the first expanse of skin in view—Sasuke's arm—and leaves a line of bright blood. He watches what he can see of the Uchiha stumble back. "Get out or I'll twist your nuts off—" he snarls and doesn't raise his head to let the blanket slide. Could have, but doesn't because Sasuke would see his face and mock him for what was left of crying. That was weakness on a whole different level.

"Hn," Sasuke raises his arm out of sight, probably to examine the blood on his arm, the depth of the cut and Naruto's intentions. "Something wrong?" and his voice is light, mocking him again.

The blond knows if Sasuke decides to attack him, he'd have only a slim chance to do anything about it. Something in him doesn't care. "Go away." The blanket's drab gray color catches his eye and he hates it—just as he knows there isn't anything better—

"…You won't stop me tomorrow," Sasuke finally concedes, furious in smooth, icy tones.

"I probably won't care tomorrow. Get the fuck out, asshole." Naruto listens as the Sasuke's presence pounds toward the kitchen and he smells the rice a moment later; then Sasuke's gone almost as quickly. The door slams, cracking and Naruto waits until he can't sense the chakra anymore. After that, only after does he turn back to his blanket and where he wants to put it.

-::-

(day 39)

Sasuke is more than pleased with the gash on his arm. It's better this way. Naruto is a threat, still a threat, and he won't make the mistake of treating him as less. Naruto is strong, but not stronger. Sasuke'll prove it, no matter he needed to give his arm eleven stitches.

This wouldn't be worth anything if Naruto didn't keep his unpredictability—

Dragging Naruto off the damn couch is the first thing he does; the second is to take the punch aimed at his groin on a thigh. Naruto coils his legs and upsets his balance and Sasuke lands on his ass. Naruto's wild eyes are somewhat alarming, but Sasuke won't remember the way he looked until later—his mouth is bleeding and Sasuke's hands aren't strong enough to break the grip on his hair—so he pulls backward with his weight and pulls Naruto on top of him—

It hurts because Naruto's hip jams against his dick in the wrong way and Sasuke gets out one pained grunt before Naruto yanks on his hair, his face an inch or so away, teeth bared, furious and Sasuke hears himself laughing.

Another painful yank on his hair; Sasuke stops laughing, teeth glinting behind the hard line of the mouth. Naruto's hands are shaking, the wildness in his face something Sasuke refuses to define. "Don't fight me," the Uchiha snarls in a winded voice and doesn't move.

"—I hate—" Naruto strangles out, jaw clenching so tight he can't say any more—in a movement too fast to follow without the sharingan, his fist goes back—

—hit me fight me hate me damn you!—Sasuke doesn't flinch as it grazes past and collides with the floor.

There are no words after that…and when it's finished, Sasuke limps to the door, thrilled and satisfied.

The last thing he does is scrawl a note and pins it to the door by driving a senbon two inches deep into the wood. Then he leaves, content to leave things as they were.

Market tomorrow. Downstairs at ten.

(day 42)

Sometime between Sasuke's usual ice-bitch silence, Naruto's deliberate irritation and the culmination of their violence, Naruto gets up off the floor of his bedroom. Sasuke must be gone; his particular prickle-chakra sense had faded long ago. Now he's thirsty, making his way for one of the water bottles the asshole leaves behind the garbage can—

—and walks right past Sasuke out cold on the couch. If Naruto hadn't glanced over everything in the corner out of habit, he would've missed the inky hair just above the back of the couch.

As is, Naruto takes one look, one step out of habit, then stops short.

Sasuke…

…was sleeping…on his couch? Naruto stares, already scratching his head in his confusion, silent and sore and…at a loss. Sasuke. On his couch. Sleeping.

Huh. It's never happened before because Sasuke's made appoint of never staying longer than necessary…and he's already had his clothes dropped off and they've…Naruto pushes his mind from the brutal tangle on his bedroom floor earlier—the way he'd bent and gasped and fought off moaning when he finally came—Shuddering, Naruto just stands there. This is something unexpected.

Before he realizes it, Naruto creeps up to the couch, angling to the side to make sure Sasuke was really sleeping and not just pulling some sort of trick. He wouldn't doubt the bastard to do something as twisted as this, but Naruto doesn't remember if he's ever had the chance to see Sasuke sleep, much less the unguarded kind. Never been close enough or inclined to study the delicate blue tint to his lids, thick sooty lashes and the un-pressed mouth.

—never ever had the thought that Sasuke's mouth looks soft when he sleeps and stops it before it sinks too far. This is fucked up. Sasuke shouldn't be sleeping on his couch…

Yeah, well, I shouldn't be staring at him thinking stupid thoughts—

He debates with the common sense of ignoring the sight, or doing something about it—he could end up with Sasuke trying to kill him or something if he pulled out the marker…

Naruto reaches out to poke him in the forehead, maybe to wake him up, and grazes thick black hair—suddenly flustered, he smacks the back of the head instead and vanishes back into his bedroom.

-::-

"Tsunade-sama?" comes just before a sharp, single knock. "I've finished the charts and reports you requested."

Blinking, Tsunade raises her eyes from the mind-dulling papers spread before her. "Come in, Shizune. How incredibly lucky! I was wishing for something other than this shitty paperwork today."

Shizune smiles and lays out several folders and a small stack of stapled papers. "Here, blood-tests. Nothing abnormal, no mutation. His height has increased by two inches and—"

"Is this the charted chakra patterns?" Tsunade asks, raising one flap of a folder.

"Yes, that one—" Shizune leans over the desk, one painted nail skimming along certain points. "I've started from age nine—as well as I could, anyway, with the Sandaime's incomplete records."

"It's accurate?"

"Within 83 percent, yes. The school does routine chakra exams every few months on every student."

"I see." Tsunade taps her finger at the soft blue ink that represents Naruto's normal chakra. She traces a line on the paper with her own fingernail, tapping it again.

She stares at the charts and thinks of sullen, impassive eyes in a too-pretty face.

And that, she thinks, worried, What is that? she thinks. I don't understand that! It almost seems in rhythm. That has to be related to sex. Is it from the Uchiha boy? It has to be.

But why is it…why does it keep changing?

Slowly, without ever realizing it, Tsunade nips at one fingernail with a worried frown. Kakashi had been right. It was Sasuke who fit the bill of Naruto's cure, sullen stubborn Sasuke—and she didn't like it. Naruto was—Uchiha was—

They were both so unstable, emotionally. She just didn't think it would work. She couldn't do anything about it.

"Tsunade-sama?"

"Hmm?" she glances up. "Oh—right. You've done a good job; I'll have to study them carefully. I have some ideas, now, so thank you, Shizune."

Shizune smiles and reaches out to pat her shoulder gently. "He's doing better. That's something, right?"

"I hope so," Tsunade replies, softly. "…now I just need to figure out where his chakra keeps going."

-::-

(day 45)

The couch has settled into a semi-permanent spot; just far enough from the window and angled to catch as much sun as possible. Sasuke hasn't seen Naruto slide the thing around at all in the last few days and wonders if that's the end of it.

Sasuke stands there on the edge between kitchen and the rest of the apartment, watching Naruto sleep stretched out in the sun. They haven't fucked in three days or so and Naruto isn't awake.

He can't name what makes him step forward, but standing over Naruto is just as familiar as tugging down the sweatpants with his fingertips. It might be the residual irritation of waking up here when he hadn't intended to, or waiting for Naruto to wake and knowing he might not, even when Sasuke pulls them all the way to the knees. It doesn't matter. Sasuke tilts his head as he pushes away the shirt and studies the exposed line of the spine.

The thoughts in his head are exiled to silence as his attention waits for Naruto to wake, to respond, what he would do—seemehatemefightme—but nothing, yet. Sasuke unzips his shorts, unaware of his mouth parting. Of swallowing. Naruto doesn't respond, not even when Sasuke spreads a hand up along the spine and down again.

Wake up.

The shorts drag down his hips and Sasuke pulls the vial out, opens and anoints himself with oil; after a moment he reaches out and smears the excess up the cleft between Naruto's legs, making sure to press just enough inside to be useful. Up and putting his left knee on the couch, Sasuke braces on unsteady arms along the idiot's sides and slides snug against the curve of hip and ass.

The feeling uncoiling through his middle fractures into sour, twisting excitement. By now, there's no reason to be careful not to wake him, not at this point. Supported on a shaking left arm, Sasuke exhales a half-drawn breath and uses his right to position himself before grabbing tightly at the bend of Naruto's hip and slipping forward. He shudders at the rough and slick sensation of entry, moves deeper, harder for the pleasure of it.

A soft murmur below draws Sasuke's eyes to what he can see of Naruto's face, waiting and pleased with the sharper, surprised grunt as Sasuke rolls forward again; the next draws a crack of blue under the lashes.

"S-Sa-ah—" Naruto gasps through a series of uneven thrusts and his hands flex on the couch. The blond slowly tucks his arms down brace himself. Sasuke releases Naruto's hip and stretches for the arm of the couch. Drives deeper with the angle and does it again to hear the couch squeaking in time to his thrusts and Naruto's insistent little noises.

"Dobe—" shreds from his mouth, urged to say something for some unknown, fumbling reason. Stupid. It was so stupid. Always stupid, this want, this need, to be stupid—

Sasuke doesn't know he's gasping or sobbing against the knobs of the blond's spine, a moan spilling from his throat as Naruto bucks up beneath him.

"S-Sasuke!" Naruto comes below him, drawing tight so quickly it left stars in Sasuke's vision; doesn't care with the pleasure like fractured quartz numbing the edge. Sasuke watches the flushed, lip-bitten Naruto through his lashes as Sasuke falls into release, watches as Naruto fails to silence his noises and thinks Why? He likes it. He must—must think I'm—

—he can't! a part of him cries, masked in anger. Sasuke pushes it away to separate himself, insanely pleased at the fine tremor in Naruto's hips and thighs and almost chokes on something that felt like laughter. He doesn't like this, of course. He can't. He makes sure there aren't any stains on the front of his shorts, finally rises on muscle-sore legs and stops long enough to find his shirt and essential possessions before the door shuts behind him.

Naruto waits longer than ten minutes before he trusts his legs to hold him and the shaky, breathless feelings to fade back into control.

-::-

(day 49)

In the bedroom, Sasuke counts the slashes on the corner of the windowsill that afternoon and smirks. They hadn't been there a few days ago. Keeping track now? he thinks with a prickly sort of thrill; so close so fucking close he could taste it bleeding on his tongue.

Instead, he shoves article after article of dirty clothing into the laundry sack…and stops at the sight of balled-up, stained orange pants near the bottom of the pile. It smells sour and swampy, and as Sasuke pulls it out of the mess with only a finger, he realizes it's more black than orange. Mud. Dark stubborn mud-stains all over Naruto's pants—

"Son of a bitch."

-::-

(day 57)

It doesn't happen every day.

Today is one of those days, and Naruto is perfectly fine with that. Sasuke had appeared and vanished with nothing more than a bag of laundry and a frozen glare. In return, Naruto had flipped him off, uneasy and wondering if Sasuke was going to take that as a different sort of gesture, but the bastard had walked right back out.

Okay. He could deal with that.

Ten minutes or so after Sasuke had stomped back downstairs, Naruto finally admits he's downright bored, something he's been fighting with since the moment he woke. He wants to follow Sasuke. Wants to spar, to train, to go back to normal—

So in the space of Sasuke leaving and Naruto's boredom, the blond decides to slip out the window and follow the dark-haired boy as he hadn't made the choice to, before. Besides, permission was permission; it didn't matter if someone was supposed to be with him or not.

Sasuke has him by the arm two blocks down the road. "What the fuck are you doing, dobe?" He shakes him roughly by his arm. Then the Uchiha pushes him back with a disgruntled exhale. "I told you to stop sneaking out, idiot. You know I'd let you stay in the gutter if you faint, right?"

Blinking, Naruto wonders if the flash of emotion in the black eyes meant something. "I'm bored to hell," he states, scowling. In response, Sasuke only stares with narrowed eyes. "Maybe I'm taking a walk, jackass."

"Go back to your apartment," the Uchiha finally mutters with dour exasperation. "I've got better shit to do than babysit."

"But I—you're training!" Naruto exclaims. "I know you're training! You always wear those shirts and those stupid bracers when you do and Tsunade-baba said I've been doing good lately—" Naruto gestures to the plain gray tee and Sasuke's arms. He knew he was right, and there was mild interest in those dark eyes now. Maybe—

"Why would I let you see my training?" Sasuke mocks, brow arching.

"Hey, but—"

"Go home, dobe. It's not like you can train."

"We could do taijutsu! I'm not good at it and I'm sure it doesn't drain me any more than my normal exercises—"

"You're not supposed to exercise," Sasuke points out waspishly. "That woman will kill me if she finds out."

Sheepish, Naruto only shrugs, lacing his hands behind his head. "So? I don't care if she kills you," he teases.

Sasuke tucks his hands into his pockets, scowling. After a long pause, his mouth thins and draws up slightly in the corner and Naruto wonders if Sasuke knows he's almost smiling.

"You're going to get your ass kicked, you know."

"Uh huh," Naruto concedes, grinning in challenge. Sasuke turns without replying and Naruto falls into step. "You'll have to earn it, though."

-::-

Naruto's presence is irritating and familiar itch. The blond had been serious about training, so Sasuke decided on a light sparring match. Naruto's skill is, as expected, substandard. But it was training, and Naruto was strong, even if Sasuke refused to admit it on any level but subconscious.

Naruto backs off by mid-afternoon, getting up with a muttered, "I say 'Fuck this' for now," and sits down in the shade.

Smirking, Sasuke gathers up his kunai and sets about half-a-dozen different wires, traps and exploding tags in the high canopy. After touching back to ground, he gathers himself and triggers them as if they were enemy traps and he had no time to spare. Then he does it again to refine his reactions.

Naruto watches the entire thing for over an hour with surprise, envy and a grudging admiration hidden carefully behind indifference.

When Sasuke catches him looking, Naruto shouts "You were sloppy on that last one!"

"Bullshit," Sasuke calls back. "You're blind and retarded—"

"Retarded my ass! A retard could've ducked the wire then disconnected the third trap under the left wire-line—"

Sasuke had, in fact, done the opposite and moved faster than expected to avoid the backlash. It had worked reasonably well, so he smirked and turned away to gather up the wires and spent weaponry. Behind him, Naruto hollers out his opinion on everything from Sasuke's choice in 'stupid elm-trees' to Sasuke's 'stupid hair.'

Sasuke does his best to ignore it and only throws two shuriken into the bark over the idiot's head. It feels good to train, and even better to know that Naruto was weak enough to just sit there.

Getting to his feet, Naruto yanks them out and Sasuke hears them zuh-hnk-nk back on each side in the tree behind him. With an indifferent expression, Sasuke glances over his shoulder, the left shuriken already in his hand and going for the right.

As they leave the training grounds, Naruto offers up suggestions that Sasuke scorns. Insults are met with insults and Naruto trots beside him without a smile, completely serious and focused on him.

Sasuke can't name this horrid urge to do something, anything, whatever he could to get rid of this itchy, uncomfortable feeling. Listening with half his attention on the blond and half still poking hesitantly over this thing, Sasuke notes into memory some of the changes Naruto insists on sharing. He has no problems in taking the dobe's ideas; it's only preparation after all.

"—but I bet you could reflect those and get twice as much damage—"

"Stupid," Sasuke can't resist rolling his eyes. "That would leave me open."

"Then you should move, dumbass," Naruto rolls his eyes and scuffs up the leaves. "And you think I'm stupid."

"Hn. It wouldn't work."

"Bullshit. You'd make it work somehow," Naruto replies casually, shrugging. "You're good like that."

To his credit, Sasuke doesn't stumble when the twitchy, odd uncomfortable thing tumbles through him, darting a glance to Naruto's face for any mocking expression and knows, somewhere, there won't be.

-::-

(day 61)

"Does Uchiha normally knock? He seems more like the type to walk right in."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, he acts all stuck-up like that," Startled, Naruto answers out of habit, without turning his head from direction of the door. There's someone knocking on it, but Tsunade's in the middle of another chakra exam. Naruto can't figure out why; he had one two days ago—and now there were—Tsunade pushes down on his shoulder when he tries to rise, distracted by unfamiliar chakra.

"Sit," she commands. "I'll get it. If you get upI'll have to start over."

"But it's—" Naruto bites out, still half-up. It isn't—it isn't Sasuke!

"Sit," she snaps while looming over him.

Muttering, picking at the blanket on his bed, Naruto does as commanded even as the Hokage turns and opens the bedroom door, even as he senses three somewhat familiar people—but what were they doing here? Where the hell was Sasuke?

"Hokage-sama," he hears.

"Well, goodness. What do you three need?"

"We came to visit Naruto," Shikamaru drawls out, distant. "Ino said he was sick." Naruto has the weirdest fluttering feeling, right above the uneasy thought But that means—

"All three of you?"

"Of course!" Ino's voice is more grating and Naruto unconsciously rips at the blanket, scowling. "We've brought him some of his favorite—Sa-Sasuke-kun! Hello!"

Heat flashes through his belly. Irritation bites even deeper because Naruto knows exactly why Ino would drag herself along with Shikamaru and Chouji. He scowls even fiercer and keeps himself on the bed by winding his fingers in the blanket, clenching.

"Uchiha," came Tsunade's less-than-pleased voice, and then Sasuke's sour, irritated grunt that Naruto recognizes.

Goddamit this is going to suck! Naruto thinks, more furious with the thought of all those people in his apartment, Sasuke in his apartment—

—everyone in his apartment—

"Dammit, you stupid hag!" he hollers from the bed with the thought Fuck her orders not to move! "I'm getting up if you get any slower, grandma!"

"You've got guests," she informs him, appearing in the doorway, scowling. "Grandma?"

Naruto exhales violently. "No, really? I couldn't tell. Hurry up!"

-::-

Naruto was out of the bedroom in less than five minutes, rubbing his head. He was more confused now than angry in the face of Shikamaru and Chouji's quiet smiles, and sat grouchily on the end of the couch closest to his stuff.

"—yeah, we heard you were sick—" Shikamaru, lazy and boneless on one end of the couch. He has his eyes closed, and if Sasuke hadn't known the scope of his intelligence, he would have ignored Shikamaru's presence entirely.

Sasuke can't help but overhear their comments; his hearing is upped by the irritation at having to deal with more than one problem. He tries not to listen, but those were friends of Naruto and Sasuke isn't so naïve to overlook what Naruto might let slip. It isn't scavenging for any scrap or clue because he refuses to let himself pick at the bone of what was happening.

"Well, Ino said she was going to apologize, too—" Chouji, quieter and sheepish, offering Naruto a handful of whatever snack he had.

In the kitchen, Sasuke is steadfastly ignoring what Ino was really doing, hanging less than two feet away and babbling through the stupid smile on her face. The dishes have piled up from the last week, and Sasuke sets himself to the task because the old woman is here, too—

"Why do you have all your stuff over here?" Chouji again, with a rustle.

"Hey, don't touch my stuff!"

Involuntarily glancing up at Naruto's annoyed tone, Sasuke sees Chouji propped over the back of the couch, peering at the assorted mess.

"You haven't cleaned much, have you?"

"Is that blood?"

"Sasuke's supposed to clean my place," Naruto replies airly. "Part of the package. I'm too sick."

Sasuke wants to fling the plates in his hand at the back of the dobe's head, but the Hokage is leaning on the wall near the table, flipping back and forth through several charts.

"Uchiha, I'd like a moment," she says at his glance.

The dark-haired boy relaxes slightly at Ino's aggrieved sigh and resulting "I have to sit with them? In the mess?" that no one responds to. Then the blonde turns from leaning on the counter and blathering up Sasuke and saunters to lean over the back of the couch, chin in palm and looking utterly bored.

After Ino is out of earshot, the woman leans and remarks, "Well?"

"…it's fine," Sasuke mutters flatly. He has more interest in the way Naruto's chakra prickles and the way the dobe flattens his expression at Ino's presence.

"Mmm. Alright, tell me about his behavior over the last few weeks, would you? What is he like with no—" she pauses, gaze sliding to where Naruto sits with knees to chin in a conversation with Chouji and occasionally Shikamaru. "With no intrusions?"

"Sick?" Shikamaru is questioning, wryly.

"Uh huh."

"With what? You don't look very sick—"

Sasuke stacks the bowls upside down to dry, one glance to the group, a muscle of his jaw tensing. "Alone, he's not so possessive. Moves his stuff around, gets restless. He babbles like before…and sometimes he doesn't. He doesn't do anything, sometimes."

Tsunade frowns. "I was aware of that, but how long does it last? Does he react to anything?"

"There's something wrong with my chakra," comes Naruto's reply.

Sasuke shrugs again, wondering briefly is Naruto has always been this skilled at putting up a front. Tsunade's watching him, waiting, so he exhales through a twitch of a smirk. "More or less."

From the corner of his eye, the Uchiha watches the old woman tap a finger on her mouth, thinking, too caught up in her worries to notice Sasuke's insolence. Her gaze is on Naruto, again and Sasuke can see the worry deepening the lines around her eyes.

"Will there be a problem with them here? I was informed that Naruto and Ino haven't been...civil."

"It should be fine." Sasuke pauses, then sets the last of the plates on a rack and starts the dozen or so glasses waiting to be washed. "But I haven't found all of the traps he set for me, yet."

"So—you have to be here all day?"

"Maybe you should clean, instead of making Sasuke-kun do it," Ino's muttering. "I swear, you're nothing but a pain in the ass—"

"Hey, I didn't sign up for this either—Sure, I'll have some chips—you think I want that frigid jerk around?"

"Hey, barbeque or onion?"

The Hokage stands there, silent and unresponsive while Sasuke works halfway through the last of the glasses and cups, ear half-tuned in the conversation about which snack was better. The rest of him is frozen in the Is it a bloodline limit? that he wants to ask the most, but he knows that any question will get the same mute response—

"Yeah, but this place is filthy, you shouldn't make Sasuke clean up your mess—hey, who'd you steal this from?"

—but then, reacting to the sudden whip-snap of chakra with a jerk of his head, he might not have to ask. Sasuke can feel the chakra shuddering higher, the bitter taste of it stopping him cold, bitter angry chakra that itched over his senses; he drops the last glass into water. "Shit."

"You ugly bitch! That's mine!"

"What, this piece of crap-tin?"

Naruto is half-perched on the couch facing Ino, out of reach with something clutched in her hand. The blond dobe leans aggressively as Ino laughs at him, mocking. She must've picked up something from the floor. Irritable, Sasuke turns on a heel with the intention to prevent it—

—and Tsunade raises a quiet gesture. Her expression, as Sasuke stops abruptly, is more calculating than worried and Sasuke isn't sure what he's supposed to do.

"Give it back, goddammit!" Naruto snarls in weird, desperate fury.

—but by then he understands. Naruto's chakra, the way it was at this moment—she wanted to analyze it. Of course she did. It worried her because she didn't know any more about it than Sasuke did and he wants nothing more than to rub it in her face.

"Ino—maybe you should—"

But he waits, arms crossed and manages not to shudder when Naruto's chakra fluctuates—pauses, dipping—flares again and Ino has her hands on her hips, now.

"Hey, I found it! It's gotta be some girl's—Naruto probably stole it anyway—"

"How often is he like this?" Tsunade whispers. "His chakra?"

"Give it back! The Hokage gave it to me, it's mine!"

Sasuke doesn't look in her direction. "Once every other week. It—" he stops with blink, swallows hard and lifts a shoulder. "It usually precedes other…reactions."

"You should've reported this, Uchiha—"

Out of reach, Ino is laughing derisively, dancing in to push away Naruto's forehead with two fingers and away even as Naruto swipes at her in response. He's close to jumping over the edge of the couch.

"Man, Ino, just give it back and shut him up."

"It's been there from the start," Sasuke hisses back. "It was irrelevant."

"Dammit, you stupid—!"

"What's the matter, Naruto? Not man enough to get it back?" she scoffs, cocking a hip and gesturing. "Probably looks better on my neck—"

—and then Sasuke watches something unfold that almost—not quite but just—almost frightens him. Ino dances back out of reach with her words and Naruto's chakra flatlines, briefly—Sasuke can't see his face and Ino is twirling to face Sasuke, smiling and flipping her hair.

"What do you think, Sasuke? Should I keep it?" Ino asks, bringing her hands up to place something around her neck, something Sasuke's seen around Naruto's neck—

He has enough time to think I must've snapped the chain, yesterday—

—then Naruto's going for her throat in an explosion of furious, boiling chakra, the couch scraping across the floor a good two feet even with the weight of Shikamaru and Chouji—and Ino screams, knocked to the floor with Naruto's hands tangled in her hair. Naruto intends to kill her. Sasuke can't believe this, can't move—Naruto would kill her, he feels it, knows he would—

—all movement stopped because the Hokage has his arm and won't let him go—

—watches it start as Naruto slams her skull-first to the floor, teeth bared and eyes wild and the air glinting red with Ino's screams as a strangled backdrop. From sheer instinct she wrenches a hand free and strikes his chin with the heel of her palm—

"Ino!"

"Good fucking god—!"

"Naruto what the hell are you—Naruto!" Shaken, the other two are half-risen from the perch on the couch, staring.

Naruto smacks her into the floor again, with a grip on the hand that's curled over the crystal, snarling. Sasuke listens to the bones in her fingers crack when Naruto wrestles it away. The sound she makes is high and breathless, and now, finally, her teammates are moving. Slow, too slow—Sasuke yanks himself free, hissing "He'll kill her—!"

Shikamaru has Naruto by the elbow, tying to move him, and gets a handful of twisting, furious Naruto in his face. He ends up with a bloody nose and bruises in less than a breath, flat on his back. Chouji gets an elbow to the face and staggers. Below them, Ino's half-blind with pain and panicking, undamaged hand yanking out the wooden hair-pins that fasten up her hair—

"Chouji get his—Ino!"

—Sasuke doesn't make it in time to prevent Ino from driving the hair-pin between his ribs with a wet, meaty sound even as he notes how Naruto doesn't react, not to the make-shift weapon and not even when Sasuke skids in, twisting and yanking Naruto away and onto his stomach.

Briefly, Naruto bares his teeth and Sasuke flips an arm over the back of his neck, the other gripping Naruto's tousled hair. Ino cradles her hand and uses her legs to push backward to get away from them. Sasuke doesn't notice; he's busy staring down the fury on what he could see of Naruto's face, hears an echo of it. The blue eyes are focused on Ino. His hands claw at the floor.

"S-Sah-Sasuke—" Ino whines, half-gasping and weeping. It's the first time Sasuke has seen her so shaken. She has a concussion, bleeding from the ear and nose and one, bloodshot swollen eye. Sasuke barely spares her a frigid glare and keeps his attention on pinning Naruto to the floor. Off to his side, Shikamaru is helping Chouji to his feet, eyes fixed on Naruto in vivid alarm, absently handing a cloth to Chouji for the blood on his face.

"What's wrong with him?" Shikamaru's voice is harsh and alien, adult. Sasuke doesn't respond; he's finding it more and more difficult to keep Naruto down and resorts to straddling him with a knee on the shoulder and one handful of hair. Wants to hit him in front of everyone and doesn't dare—

"…goddamn it all," Tsunade's exhale is a weary sound. She stands off to Sasuke's rear left, one hand on her hip, the other on her forehead as she sighs. Her hand passes over her mouth, then down in front of her chest. "How long until he calms down?" she asks, kneeling beside Ino and touching fingertips to Ino's forehead. The girl slumps into unconsciousness and Tsunade cradles the damaged girl to her lap, preparing to administer as much aid as possible.

"Depends," Sasuke grits out.

"What the hell just happened?"Shikamaru snaps louder.

No one answers as Naruto's voice grates out in a mix between screech and snarl and Sasuke leans all his weight into holding him there. "You stupid—" Sasuke mutters and watches blood trickles from the bruise on the idiot's mouth left by Ino. Naruto's eyes track to where she is, and if Sasuke doesn't do something to keep his attention, he'll break free. Hissing curses under his breath, Sasuke frees a hand to cuff him on the side of the head and diverted, Naruto twists enough to peer with one fierce blue eye.

"He wouldn't have killed her, would he?" Chouji gasps, one hand stuffing the cloth against his nose.

Sasuke fights the urge to sneer at their pale faces and bares his teeth anyway—and Naruto takes the moment of his distraction to twist out of his grip, body language screaming with that bloodthirst for Ino, unconscious or not, lunging—

—and doesn't have a chance with the Hokage between them; Tsunade pivots at the waist, palm out and striking the forehead back, knocking him backwards in violent reversal. Sasuke cries out, forces himself to catch the tumbling body and misses the sound something snapping under the boneless weight.

Spitting out a second curse, Sasuke dumps him to the floor. Naruto appears completely out; Sasuke isn't sure of what technique she used and debates the possibility of figuring it out without knowing the hand-signs. He spits hair away from his mouth. "What did you do?"

Tsunade leans back over Ino. "I only put him to sleep; he'll wake in a few minutes. It's useful for when he's a pain," she comments, absently.

Sasuke doesn't know the emotion that closes his throat; fury, perhaps, or some indignant petulance—regardless, all he can do is close his mouth, eyes narrow and aching with the urge to slip into the sharingan. To distract himself from the inexplicable thing, Sasuke gives Naruto a cursory glance.

The eyes look bruised, the face pale, eyelids shifting as Naruto's head turns, tilting back. Sleeping—

Sasuke's mouth flattens into a frown and almost feels concerned. No, he's seen Naruto sleep. This isn't—Naruto's eyes flutter, and Sasuke doesn't avoid the hand that falters over the floor, bumps into his leg and twists a hold with surprising strength onto the hem of Sasuke's shirt. What—

Naruto was awake—had to be—so pale but awake and the idiot grimaces and suddenly, as blue eyes open a little further, Sasuke can see panic. Fear.

Emotions he's never seen on that cunning face and he watches Naruto's throat produce a gaspy little noise, mouth open, emotions that Sasuke's never dragged forth, not that look as he sucks for air—

—air that he coughs back out violently, blood welling—

—the hairpin—Sasuke thinks, pushing a hand around Naruto's side and feels splintered, blood-wet wood, mind blank in reaction. It's in too deep. His lung is punctured.

Without looking, he knows Tsunade has all attention on Ino's worthless wounds, her teammates' words are meaningless babble and Naruto's there drowning in his own blood.

"Tsunade-sama," Sasuke whispers her name for the first time in her presence, uneasy, unable to defuse the response to help. "Tsunade-sama, he's—"

"He's fine, Uchiha," The bitch replies sharply, without looking. "I told you, he'll wake up soon and he'll be fine.

—he's drowning he's dying you stupid—Sasuke wants to scream at her. The emotion feels like flies through his body, buzzing and crawling and Naruto couldn't breathe and he could see it—

—he's dying what—what do I do? he thinks into crystalline panic, unable to move even when Naruto's eyes flicker to him, the fingers clutching and Naruto's mouth is shaping the outline of the words

"—Sasuke—"

"Hokage—!" Sasuke rasps again, hair in his face when he looks to see if she's noticed—

—god, no, nothing and Naruto wasdying—

Without a thought to clarify it, no thoughts left at all, Sasuke grabs him by the shirt and hair, hauling him upright and over his arm.

"You stupid bitch!" he hears himself say, strangled and rising and Sasuke can't control it as Naruto hacks and gags blood over his arm, spattering it on the floor. "His lung is punctured!"

Sasuke doesn't even know if she's reacted or not as he twists over Naruto's bent, spasming back with kunai in hand. Pulls out the neckline of the tee-shirt in his teeth and cuts it down the middle with the blade. Then he goes for splintered bloody stub of the impaled hairpin, snags it between thumb and the kunai. Memory shows him the first angle of the blow because Sasuke knows that it has to be removed the way it came, but he doesn't remember when the sharingan had slipped over his vision.

Eyes wide, cold and throat sore and half-insane with the uncontrollable, unspeakable thing, Sasuke can only grit his teeth, secure his grip, and unsnaps his arm. Naruto stiffens, choking on a scream, gagging—

—black clotting blood all over the floor. Sasuke drops the bloody hairpin to the floor; unaware of the gash on his thumb gained in the process and whacks him between the shoulders.

Naruto draws a short, painful sounding breath, knuckles white with the pressure of clutching Sasuke. The urge to utilize the kunai within reach is tight through his arm, but Sasuke doesn't bother to pull away. If he pulls away, he'll start to—to something—if he moves—

"—lay him down, Uchiha!" Tsunade is saying, pushing her sleeves up, reaching out in the next moment to take Naruto by the shoulders. She pulls him from Sasuke's grip and lays him on his unwounded side, mouthing curses. She sets a palm lit with soft green chakra over the blood and bruises. As she's healing, she looks back to Shikamaru and Chouji supporting the unconscious Ino and snaps "Take her to the hospital, you two!"

They visibly force the effort to move with a final, wide-eyed look in Sasuke's direction. Sasuke scoots back and flinches without knowing his action; his hand is smearing at the blood on his arm—slowly, with effort, Sasuke claws back onto his control, and finds a discarded sock to rid the worst of the mess.

"Uchiha—" Tsunade is shaking the wrist of her free arm, tossing the multitudes of bracelets about. "I need you to wait in the hall," she says soft, without inflection. He doesn't know her meaning, why he has to leave the area, but the command to leave is obvious. She brings the bracelets to her mouth, selecting one and biting the cord. She tosses it, as Sasuke rises to leave, it pohfs a moment later. Shizune is there, gasping, when Sasuke looks over his shoulder.

Summon bracelet? he thinks dully, eyes running over the number still on her arm.

"Ho-Hokage—?" Shizune drops to her knees beside Tsunade.

"The damn brat got himself wounded, help me clear the blood from his lungs—"

Sasuke shuts the door of the apartment on the voice of the Hokage, hand throbbing. He hears, dully, two more pohfs past the door. Doesn't know who it'll be, doesn't want to find out. His back pushes against the door and he sinks, slowly. By the time he finds a small roll of bandages and tape, there is a small puddle of blood on the hallway floor. He pads the wound anyway, wrapping bandages from wrist to knuckles.

After a while, he's aware of Kakashi near, one hand outstretched to touch him. Wire-tight with tension, Sasuke avoids the hand and doesn't raise eyes from the clotting blood on his skin.

Kakashi doesn't push it. "You're bleeding through your bandage." He drops to one knee and reaches out again for Sasuke's wrist. With wordless assent, Kakashi unwraps, attends and re-swathes his wrist in strips of cloth. His fingers throb, but Sasuke doesn't resist when Kakashi pulls him to his feet.

The world shifts in a sickening lurch, and Sasuke stumbles over the threshold of his house. Kakashi has brought him home—he grabs for balance, cradling his wounded hand. He's home, Kakashi silent and offering nothing. Naruto's cracked and broken and he's home with Naruto's blood drying in black smears on skin and clothing.

Shuddering, Sasuke slips out of his sandals and very, very gently shuts the partition door of the main hall behind him.

-::-

(day 63)

"I don't think we have a choice," Tsunade speaks for the first time in half-an-hour. There are three empty sake bottles near her elbow, and Jiraiya makes sure to keep out of fist-range when he sees them.

"Choice of what?" he asks, sipping from another.

"Naruto's problem, Uchiha, all of it. If I don't keep Uchiha around, Naruto's chakra is as good as flushed down the toilet. If I do, who knows what damage it'll do to him mentally!" Tsunade slams down the sake-cup, one hand covering her face and sighing deeply. "I don't know what to do, you dirty pervert. You weren't there, those instincts took control so quickly."

"Does Uchiha know yet?"

"…psh. I doubt it." Somehow, Tsunade manages to find the half-empty container without looking and takes another swallow. "I swear, I'll kick his bony fucked-up ass if he does something stupid!"

-::-

Sasuke answers the door, barefoot and sleep-mussed. She has a moment to appreciate the fact he looks like a spoiled brat woken from sleep like any other human and doesn't smile like she wants to. She's sure it'd piss him off.

The minute she finishes informing him that yes, Naruto was still his responsibility, and no, his problem wasn't any of Sasuke's goddamned business, he slams the door in her face.

-::-

(day 67)

Whatever's wrong with Naruto, the reason for it, the truth of it—all of it, right down to his stupid noisey self to his unstable chakra and the things that Sasuke lets himself do—all of it echoes why in his head.

He doesn't know why, doesn't care because at this rate, he'll be only steps closer to proving to the idiot he was better, faster, stronger in every way. All ways. Had to be.

It doesn't matter that the craving he could feel thieving through his body was something he hadn't expected. The desire for it frightened him—

—he had long since thought himself past the illogical need for touch.

But why?

He couldn't stop touching Naruto and it battered at the edges of his control. There was no room for it; he refused to allow it. He doesn't understand it breaking and reforming between them and doesn't ask, because the subject of their situation is nothing less than a lit fuse. He doesn't know who holds the wrong end, so Sasuke lets it sit there. He doesn't know if Naruto remembers how violent the other day was, and still doesn't ask. Wants to, but doesn't, because Naruto insists on training.

They've snuck off to train without Naruto passing out a total of three times now, but—but Sasuke doesn't know why he allows it. Always why—

Why he wants to allow this stupid half-assed training—There wasn't room—it's not even worth the effort. Can't be. Naruto's weak, so weak and pointless that Sasuke can't swallow the irritation of putting up with him…and does it anyway.

"Higher—" the dark-haired Uchiha commands, shifting his grip on Naruto's wrists to show him the proper way. "You're too low. You'll break a wrist if you try to counter—"

"This is more comfortable—" Naruto protests, but he shifts his stance until his arms are where Sasuke thinks they should be and tries again. It takes him five attempts (not counting the previous seventeen) to actually slip free this time.

"Hn. Passable," Sasuke grunts sourly. "Again, but I'm not stopping this time—"

"Just get on with it," Naruto snaps.

Sasuke complies faster than the blond can follow and lands two solid punches to his middle before Naruto spins away. He snares the nearest wrist to allow Naruto to practice the counter-move—

—pleased and annoyed that he does it properly, and watches the blond wheeze. Ducks the kick and knocks out the bracing leg, follows through and pins him.

"Again," Sasuke scowls and hauls him to his feet. "We can stop if it's too hard for you—"

"I'll fucking do it, dammit, so shut up!" Naruto growls, settling back. This time, as Sasuke tempers his speed, his reactions quicken and it's not as easy to take him down. After the fourth time, Sasuke knows that Naruto has the counter down and leaves the idiot in the dirt gasping for breath. Two strides away, he rummages through the backpack for water and swallows over half without stopping.

"—come on," Naruto mutters from behind him. "Again."

"Sit down," Sasuke snaps over his shoulder, seeing Naruto pushing to his feet. "I'll drag you back by the ankles if you fall and knock yourself out, stupid."

"Asshole."

Sasuke chucks another flask at his head and Naruto manages to catch it, even if it throws off his balance. Sasuke watches him plop to his butt and chug the water in the next move, the swallowing throat and stubborn, stupid features. To distract himself, he leans against the nearest tree to wait. Training with the idiot is almost as useful as it used to be.

"Hey—hey, what's the next one?" Naruto asks the moment he stops drinking.

"Harder," Sasuke replies, almost smirking. "It's defensive, but you need it to do steps twenty-five and eighteen. Think you can learn it?"

"Think you can teach it?"

"Not today," Sasuke corks and drops the bottle into the bag. Disappointed or annoyed, Naruto scowls and hurls the empty flask at his head. It cracks against the tree when Sasuke evades out of reflex, settling the bag over his shoulder. "Get up, dobe," he commands, waiting in silence until Naruto gets to his feet with a grimace of pain.

When he's on his feet, Sasuke leads them through the pathway, nerves and body strumming with unbroken tension. Without looking, he can hear the harsh breathing, taking glances at the shade dappled over his skin and the whole world feels miles away from the two of them. He names the jolt along his spine as need even if he refuses to define it.

It simmers until Naruto has his hands laced behind his head again, sky-blue eyes turned to the forest around them. Reaching the village will take only minutes; the forest is thick. He doesn't like it and doesn't want the tangle it evokes—

—because it existed. Eventually, Sasuke doesn't care to stop.

Before they reach the village, Sasuke makes up his mind whether he wants it or not, and shoves Naruto through the thick shrubs before the blond knows what's happening—he protests with a startled sound and an instinctive swipe at his face—but Sasuke lands above him, straddling him.

"Oiy, are you crazy?"

"Shut up," Sasuke replies automatically. He's said it so often it sounds hollow to his own ears, doesn't care and yanks on Naruto's shirt before attempting to push it up. The sound of protest weakens and Saskue takes that moment unfasten the button on idiot's shorts. "Who cares, there's no one around—"

"Yeah, but here?" Naruto hisses from the shade-dappled ground. He doesn't fight the hands working off his clothing and Sasuke finally catches the expression shifting through annoyance to curiosity to exasperation.

"Why not?" Sasuke replies while he finally pushes the shirt of his way—freezing when Naruto makes an irritated noise and the expression—blushing he's blushing why is he—

"Fine, then, if you want to be a bastard about it," and Naruto's trying to take off his shirt. Sasuke's so surprised by the action he just lets it happen, warm hands brushing his sides, hair in his face when Naruto succeeds. His heart seizes for a space of four or five seconds, and if this is victory, he wants to die. There's nothing left. It's too much.

It's not enough! Sasuke thinks wildly, and bends to take him.

-::-

The forest is a blur of green and gold and shadow through Naruto's eyelashes. He feels unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to do anything but rest there, Sasuke's skin to his and his weight almost intolerable.

It doesn't feel bad, but Naruto isn't sure what's supposed to feel good, if this was good. A deep breath shifts Sasuke's weight; the dark eyes flutter open and glance vaguely at the chest he's supported by. Naruto hears the remnants of his pleasure still in his throat and wonders what was going through Sasuke's head. He watches as Sasuke pushes to his hands and knees above him, Naruto's legs still curved to accommodate, and uses the lack of weight to dig out a stone trying to weld itself to his hip.

Then he stops, unnerved, because Sasuke hasn't moved or stopped staring at him; unruly black hair frames his pale face. "Uh—you can get off me, asswipe."

Dark eyes narrow and Naruto knows that look for the threat it is, even as he nerves himself to react to whatever—

"Tell me what's wrong with you," Sasuke whispers. "Why won't you just—"

—can't hide the shock and the thought he's asking—he's asking me—too late to hide his reaction, now—Naruto pushes at him and can't move him. "No—"

"—Tell me!"

Desperate, panicking, Naruto grates out the first thing that pops into his head and regrets it—

"I said no—I don't ask you about your fucking brother, don't ask me about this—"

—regrets it because Saskue's face goes bone-white and Naruto barely avoids the crushing strike to his solar-plexis, takes it in the stomach and gags, curling up with the pain—

Sasuke dresses in silent fury and by the time Naruto manages to sit upright, arm over his stomach, he's gone. Upset and furious in his own right, Naruto drags on his clothes and stands. Stupid Sasuke and his stupid—always so fucking stupid—He can't help the niggling worry at making his way home by himself, doesn't want to go home in the next thought and ignores it, tries to, tries so hard—

-::-

(day 68)

The first thing Sasuke sees that afternoon is mud. Mud, again, all over the fucking bed—

On the couch, the first thing that Naruto wakes up from is Sasuke's white-knuckled fist. The door slams before Naruto can get up off the floor. When he manages to do so, he can see globs and streaks of mud on the slashed, tattered remains of his sheets.

"What the fuck?" he croaks, just as confused. Then he shrieks "ASSHOLE!" out the window to make sure Sasuke knew he wasn't getting away with ripping up his sheets.

The rest of the day he spends renewing his traps, hurt and raging.

-::-

(day 71)

"Here," the Hokage says without preamble on a day Sasuke doesn't expect to see her. She holds something out, and Sasuke glances to see a bracelet similar to the kind she wears. The hallway of Naruto's apartment complex is silent; he hasn't gone inside. She must be just leaving.

"How does it work?"

"It's a simple alarm jutsu. Break the cord—" she holds up a wrist for example. "and it will activate the twin of the bracelet. The stone activates a chakra rebound to let them know where the location of the broken cord is."

Folding it his hand, Sasuke raises dark eyes to her face without asking why she's giving it to him.

"In case something happens," she answers. "If you can't control him. Oh, and he's trapped his apartment again."

Ah. He had wondered why her robe was smoking.

-::-

(day 76)

Sasuke must be angry with again, but Naruto doesn't care if Sasuke wants to be stuck up. Naruto has no problem with that. He glares at the back of his rival as Sasuke rinses some dish and stabs the ramen in front of him with his chopsticks. Stupid Sasuke. It's not like Naruto had done it on purpose—

—not like he remembers it, anyway.

To distract himself from Sasuke's disturbing insistence that the muddy sheets were his fault, Naruto lifts the noodles to his mouth—and gags at the sensation of wet ropy things slipping and slimy between his teeth—

What the…? he thinks in utter shock, freezing with the utensils between his clenching teeth, gagging again until he opens his mouth and sends the half-chewed mouthful plopping back into the bowl. He must have made some sound; Sasuke looks over his shoulder and blinks at his face.

What the fuck was that? his mind gibbers, fully intent on ignoring Sasuke's annoyed look until it shifts back to the sink.

Cautiously, cold and clammy on the skin and cracked-ice through his middle, disbelievingly, he tries again.

—some sort of toughness popping between his teeth—

Naruto gags and shudders even as he spits out the food, hand to his mouth and staring at his bowl.

"Eat," Sasuke cuffs him on the back of the head as he moves dry dishes to the pantry behind Naruto.

"I—" Naruto inhales over the rasp in his voice, tasting food and dirt and foul, coppery blood and doesn't know which one is real—and Sasuke doesn't know, can't know, god he's going crazy—Naruto can't say anything to him, nothing!

"I'm not hungry," he replies tonelessly.

Sasuke makes a sound in his throat that holds a basic 'Whatever, stupid' because the Uchiha doesn't care. Naruto shudders again with a swallow, pushing his bowl away. He drops his head onto folded arms and pretends to sleep.

-::-

(day 78)

Sasuke makes it late to Naruto's apartment this day, half soaked from the misting rain. It's nearly dark already but Sasuke doesn't care. Inside, up the stairs and through Naruto's door, he pulls off his too-large sweater and tugs at the thin cotton undershirt. The bag of bath towels end up on the floor and Sasuke scowls at the semi-darkness. A window's open somewhere, Sasuke can still smell the rain.

Sasuke will bet his finest set of weapons that the sheets are muddy again. The idiot's got to be doing it on purpose, and today would be a prime day to accomplish it—and over all of it, Sasuke loathes the frustration he feels over stupid, muddy sheets. There's no point.

But the idiot's done it again, and something twists sweetly into aggression. He knows it's happened again, he can see it. It's all over the fucking floor—strewn from bedroom to bath as if Naruto had…

Furious, Sasuke nearly skids on cold wet mud and opens the bathroom door.

Naruto's inside and Sasuke hears the dull, gasping breath. The faint illumination through the window etches out slumped shoulders and paler skin. "Nnghnn—"

Sasuke flips on the light, mouth parting to hurl stinging curses—and freezes when Naruto doesn't react. His eyes are open and there's one hand splayed over his mouth, but Naruto doesn't move from his hunched-over position at the tub. Sasuke sees blood—blood—spattered over chin and hand and fingers, over the white porcelain.

Lumpy, black-clotted blood and Sasuke gags at the smell of puke and iron and something else, something rotten, the grip on the door the only thing keeping him upright.

Blood. Sasuke can't tear his eyes from the mess—there are tails and furry bits and oh god small, white splintered bones and oh god did he eat that?

"What's happening to you?" Sasuke hears his own voice echo through dull, wailing horror he hasn't felt or dreamed of in years—

"I don't know," Naruto replies, voice choked and hoarse. He gives a gaspy, hysterical laugh so unstable it sends a chill skittering down Sasuke's body, lodging in his gut and throat. "I think those were mice it made me eat mice—"

"You—"

"Mice are the main ingredient in a fox's diet, you know," Naruto gives that broken, horrible laugh and gags, Sasuke watches him gag and hears blood spattering—wait—

Fox—those were mice?!—Fox!? Sasuke buckles and hits the floor just as hard as every bit of knowledge falling into place does. Scoots back until the cold wall of the hallway presses against his back, welcoming the cold through his clothing to keep his lunch down. Oh god—

Fox. Naruto, with chakra he couldn't explain. No bloodline limit, just Naruto, hated by everyone and always alone—crimson-tainted chakra and the eyes—god oh god all of it, finally now, horribly all of it, right down to the flash of fear and the way he whispers "That's it? All this time…all this is…That's it?"

Naruto's answer is shuddering lurch and Sasuke turns his face away to avoid the sight of bloody vomit. The noise of it is gut-churning, the idea—

—fox the fox he's the fucking nine-tails fox—

With a crackling, buzzing whine rising in his ears, his mind flattens out and later, Sasuke won't remember staggering to his feet or turning off the light and away from Naruto's distress.

-::-

Tsunade transfers to Naruto's apartment even though she's dressed in a robe to hide her nightclothes, despite being exhausted. She wonders, pohfing into the darkness, if Naruto had a tantrum or Sasuke just pushed his buttons to far. "Oiy—" she calls. "Turn some lights on, will you?"

No one answers, and it sets off a deep-seated Something's wrong before she literally runs into Sasuke. The boy is sitting on folded legs in the space between couch and hall and Tsunade gets no reaction when she calls his name.

Wrong, very wrong. "Uchiha!" she shakes his shoulder; he flinches violently with a small gasp, but his eyes slide away from focusing on her. His hand is clenched around the broken cord. "Where's Naruto?"

"…bathroom," Sasuke's voice is nearly inaudible; the expression in his face is dazed."…ate them…muddy sheets, but it…stupid worthless prank…he ate them, that's it, he ate them he ate—"

"Uchiha—" Tsunade's tempted to slap him. "Ate what, Sasuke? What did he eat?" and thinks of poison—surely the Uchiha brat wouldn't poison Naruto in their rivalry, would he? She takes him by the shoulders and notes the fine tremor down his body. There is mud smeared on his legs and feet. His heartbeat is three times the norm, skin clammy. She can't see if he's wounded, but she can smell blood, dirt…and…what was that—

"The mice—" and under Tsunade's confusion, he laughs very, very softly and the sound isn't something she's ever heard from anyone sane.

"What mice?" she murmurs and gets no answer. Her heart thuds, something must be very wrong—so she stands and takes the two strides to the bathroom to find out for herself. She hears, reaching for the switch while shivering at a whimper-sound, the blood-scent even stronger—

A moment later, she makes it back to Uchiha's side with silent, unsteady steps. She sets a hand to his brow and sends him winging to sleep. The other hand is fisted over her mouth; her skin is white in the shadows. When Uchiha slumps, unfocused eyes finally shut, she summons Kakashi.

The man is silent, half-awake until she nudges his attention to the boy at her feet. "Take him home; make sure he doesn't…" Doesn't what? She thinks, remembering the laughter. Have a breakdown? Lose his temper? I don't know what he would do—"I need to question him later."

"I smell blood," Kakashi replies cautiously. "Is Naruto…"

"I need to get him to Jiraiya, I need to check about his seal. Go. Go, dammit—" she manages and turns away. Kakashi doesn't follow. It takes her only a minute to reappear with Naruto in her arms, wrapped up in a towel and another balled up in her fist, dripping blood; he doesn't question her any further. She gets a sick satisfaction of watching his normally unflappable resolve crumble and doesn't feel like enjoying it.

-::-

"How is he?"

"…aside from the normal problems that come with eating…raw meat, he's fine," Tsunade rasped. She hasn't moved from her position on the edge of Naruto's bed, or her hand from Naruto's chest. Her hand glows in the green healing chakra. She had decided, last minute, to avoid the hospital and brought him straight back to the tower, trying to avoid unnecessary attention that this..situation...might draw.

"Do you…know what happened? Why he would…"

She sighs without looking, the lines of tension around her mouth and eyes going deeper. "The brat…he must've…Uchiha mentioned muddy sheets, some prank or something—"

"Mud—has he been sneaking out?"

"Apparently. What…what else could he have done, Kakashi? What else? How can I—what should I—he's so young to face this and at this rate…" Tsunade's painted nails are bitten to the quick. She doesn't finish her sentence, because Kakashi knows just as clearly what could be happening and says it for her.

"Is there a chance Naruto's absorbing too much and becoming the Kyuubi?"

"I don't know."

"What if—Would Naruto have told Sasuke?" Kakashi pauses carefully in his attempt for answers to both of his worries. "What should we do about that?"

"I don't know! He didn't seem to be coping with it, if he does know. I don't know if that brat even cares about what happens to Naruto."

"I'm sure he does," Kakashi answers…but even his voice is hesitant. "He called for help, didn't he?"

-::-

—his head aches and he can't think of anything but the sound of blood dripping, the sight and smell and Naruto sitting there in his dreams with his teeth bared in a bloody smile and oh god Sasuke's head hurts so bad he doesn't—there isn't anything left there isn't any way he can beat that nothing no way no way—

—he can't he can't he has to he has no choice, it has to be tonight because there wasn't any time left, tonight, even if he doesn't want to—

-::-

(day 82)

The first time Naruto dreams of Sasuke he wonders I'm not...in my apartment...? because Sasuke putting a kunai to his throat, straddling him in the darkness of early morning. The room is familiar, back up in the tower again; the surrounding chakra and ward-jutsu is not. Sasuke's weight on the bed wakes him—does it? Is he awake? Wherever he is, he knows that Sasuke must have snuck in. His eyes are wild-red with the sharingan and it should be alarming, but Naruto doesn't move.

Am I dreaming?

"I have to—" the Uchiha grates out in whatever insanity grips him, the edge grazing along the softness under the jaw. Naruto's never seen him like this and it distracts from the nightmarish memory of bloody mice and Sasuke laughing—the shudder at Sasuke's "I have to—" earns him a nick in the softness of his throat. It doesn't hurt, nothing does.

He's dreaming. Has to be.

Naruto doesn't know if he should move—just dreaming—fight back or just pretend the weapon wasn't there. He doesn't know what he wants because nothing right now makes any sense—not his stupid seal or his chakra or the goddamn fox and definitely not Sasuke—but the bastard's here in his dreams with weapons and Naruto fights the lingering drag of sleep, that half-numb half-awake dissociation. His brows furrow and after a moment, houghts floating into separate directions he mumbles, hesitant, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard?"

Sasuke makes an anguished, hollow sound and his eyes flash through the darkness of his hair. "You're so stupid—" the Uchiha strangles out, the edge pressed against him so hard that Naruto can feel blood trickling down his throat and makes sure not to move at all, now, not with Sasuke going crazy. Even his dreams have Sasuke acting crazy. Even still, his thoughts are hazy and formless and all he can seem to focus on is how pale Sasuke looks, how his eyes are glinting red in the pools of shadow.

"I-I will—" Sasuke's whispering with his focus on Naruto's throat. "I will I have to you don't know I have to—"

But the feel of a weapon at his throat, he doesn't want this—Naruto fumbles at the wrists to lighten the pressure and squeezes it, fluttering thoughts on how quick Sasuke can be, how strong and stubborn and expecting numb pain in every heartbeat; but Sasuke only shakes in his grip and Naruto very gently very very slowly eases his neck away from the razor-edge kunai—just enough, maybe more, to get a chance at knocking the bastard away—

"—I have to hate you—"

"Everybody hates me," Naruto whispers back when the edge isn't so dangerously close. "So what. You gonna kill me 'cause I'm a—I'm a monster—" somehow, the kunai slips from Sasuke's fingers and Naruto hears it clatter to the floor and forgets about it in the next moment. Sasuke doesn't seem to notice its absence and gropes blindly at his neck, suddenly squeezing—

Naruto has to grab his wrists again just to breath and—for a dream, even with the hazy slide of uncertainty in just what was happening, he can't find it in himself to fight back very hard.

"Why—" Sasuke keens under his breath and the embers in his eyes flare; Naruto waits, has to with no other choice. "…hate you," Sasuke replies without sound, clenching and Naruto, with spots of color sliding in the corners of his vision, twists the wrists away from his throat and drags up enough awareness to knee him in the gut. The next two seconds he spends gulping air. It leaves him dizzy, room spinning in time to the sound of Sasuke's breath hitching in his throat; he must've got him good.

But Sasuke only curls up on the bed, face hidden behind his hair. Heart thudding, queasy to his stomach, Naruto turns his head. "Asshole," he slurs. Staring. He can't seem to look away. Sasuke's eyes are black now, bruised in the moonlight as Naruto reaches out and twists his fingers into the shirt and tries to shake him. "—and I hate you too you stuck-up bastard, I h-hate—" he tries to say, hoarsely, with Sasuke's hands sliding up his arms. Naruto's fingers brush his face. "Isn't this what you want?"

The kiss is accidental; he's not truly aware of it. Their faces are so close, mouths brushing. Sasuke tolerates the careless brush of pressure. Naruto goes as far as to part his lips and attempt to kiss like the examples shared by couples in dark shadows, mouth open and devouring. Swallows the taste of Sasuke, drowns in the white-water fear and insecurity and need it summons until the room is twisting dizzily around him. Until there's a gasp that brings no air, until he's flat on his back.

Until he pulls Sasuke to him, dropping under the dream.

-::-

In the darkness between early dawn and midnight, Sasuke's weight is heavy and comforting next to his. Naruto drowses, unaware of feeling warm and satisfied and thrilled. The second time his eyes flicker open, they slide to Sasuke's curled-up form, his half-seen face, the distressthat still pulls at the lines of his mouth.

Rising, Naruto gropes for his boxers. He skirts Sasuke's body and stands to put them on. Sasuke doesn't move or react. Naruto doesn't really see the discarded t-shirt, but drags it up and over his head; he turns only to step back onto the bed and over to the window. He pushes on the glass, cool fall air sneaking around him as he leans, a knee on the sill.

Naruto tenses, one diffident glance behind him, and in a flash of uncommon chakra, vanishes.

Sasuke doesn't wake.