~white, surge red~
:part eight:
(229 days from the beginning)
"Ok, can we, maybe, talk now? They're gone, right?" Kiba sighs and tosses the empty soda can into the middle of the group, ducks the swat that Neji has aimed for his head. "What the hell—stop trying to hit me, dammit!"
"Subtlety and tact do not come easy for you, do they?" Neji replies, unconcerned and hand-raised as if to keep any other unwanted questions at bay. "Because I highly doubt Naruto wants to announce this situation to the world."
"Oh, was I that obvious?" Naruto mutters, standing with the ointment in his hand, wiping the rest on his pants. He turns to take stock of everyone's reaction, pushing back golden hair with the back of his arm. His eyes are narrow, expression on the edge of hostile. It's striking to everyone there, even if Naruto's unaware of it, just how worn and older he seems and it draws out questions before several of them realize they've spoken.
"What exactly is going on with you?"
"Why'd you kick the girls out?"
"You're still acting weird."
"You—you've got more chips, right?"
Instead of answering, Naruto's eyes dart to the couch and back to everyone beyond it: without a word he takes hold of the end of the couch and shifts it until he can see both Sasuke and the rest. Then, as they stare and stare at him, he digs free a second, pale-yellow blanket that had been piled under the assorted mess.
"First thing first," Neji asks, as Naruto slaps and brushes at the fabric, actions practically screaming I'm stalling! to the Hyuuga's sight. "Why—or should I say—how do you have that chakra? I've never seen anything like it, or even heard of a person with multiple types..."
"Uh, well..." Naruto does his best to drown the sudden nervousness of his twisting hands and snap-shakes blanket. The explanations hammer in his head, unspoken, as he swallows again and lifts a shoulder in hesitation. His eyes dart back to where Sasuke's curled up near the door. He steps backward, hands scraping through his hair again, waiting more for the sake of making sure they're still far enough away from the child before he edges around the couch.
"It's not, actually," Shikamaru's saying. "For a regular person, it's impossible to have more than one distinct chakra type. Naruto is..." Shikamaru's expression is intense, far more so than Naruto ever realized he was capable of. Naruto shudders, dropping to a knee next to the bruised, broken Sasuke; the dark-haired boy still has his hands clutching over his face, hiding, even as Shikamaru raises his voice a notch. "You're a jinchuuriki, aren't you? The container for the Kyuubi."
"...yeah," Naruto answers hoarsely, unable to avoid it any further. His hands are shaking when he drapes the blanket over Sasuke's shoulders, keeping a few generous folds over the dripping mess of hair. Sasuke curls up even tighter, somehow, a low breathless sound escaping from where the blanket slips to cover his face.
"Wait, what? A jinchuur—but those are—you mean, my grandma was right?! She was screaming about demons that night—" Kiba pauses to pull Akamaru closer to his chest. "I didn't believe her because I thought she was losing her mind, but—"
"What a wondrous discovery!"
"Shit, Lee, back off the awesome, alright?"
"How long have you known?"
"Why didn't you tell us?" and Chouji sounds hurt when he asks that and Naruto's answer is neatly forced to his mouth.
"Because I—because I—" Naruto takes a breath too short to do any good, and returns to settle onto the solitary spot on the couch. His voice roughens. "Because it makes me a freak. It makes me different. I couldn't—" and he pauses, realizing he's shaking with the thought couldn't stand it, couldn't stand it if you were all going to hate me because of it—so he waits long enough to take a breath, pale. "It doesn't matter why. If you don't want to help me, that's fine. But this? All of this has to stay a secret. You can't tell anyone. You can't."
"What happens if we did?"
"Kakashi would probably have to kill you."
"...you're serious."
"Yeah. Well, maybe. He's on the roof eavesdropping," Naruto states and watches everyone flick their gazes upward. "Keeping watch, I guess."
"...So, what's the Kyuubi thing have to do with all of this?"
"Yeah, well, you see—" Naruto stiffens, shifting his knees up into a nervous silence.
"Yeah, you didn't like...eat the mother, did you?"
"Kiba!"
"Fuck, what the hell is wrong with you, dog-brain?"
"Stop, just stop, all of you!" Shikamaru snaps, pegging a pretzel at Kiba. "Can't you just shut up for five minutes?! You're all so fucking tedious," he states in the resulting silence, rubbing at his face with a half-muttered curse. "Let me know if I have this right. You're the jinchuuriki for the same monster that destroyed the village sixteen years ago, hence the crazy-ass chakra. You've been...ill, for however long, and it makes you somewhat aggressive. More so than usual. Sasuke, all of a sudden, has a child that you're hell-bent on raising, or protecting or whatever. Am I right, so far?"
Naruto nods, pale and silent. Shikamaru's eyes flicker to the rest of the group, back and forth. "Okay. So. All I've seen and heard tonight doesn't give me an answer that makes sense, Naruto. It's insane to even consider the possibility, because you're not female."
Of course, leave it to Shikamaru to figure it out, Naruto wants to laugh. Instead, swallowing hard against the instinctive hunching, he smiles faintly. Bitter.
"What do you mean, Naruto's not female?" Chouji actually stops mid-grapple for a handful of chips, and peers at Naruto.
"Wait, now I'm really confused. Duh, Naruto's a boy. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Are you saying—" Neji's eyes are wider than anyone's ever seen; Naruto hadn't even known he could actually make that expression.
"Ok, Shikamaru, could you explain, maybe?"
"Naruto's the mother," Shikamaru replies dryly through an irritated I-have-a-migraine expression. "Right?"
"What?!" three of them say at once, even as Naruto gives a slow, tiny nod. They stare at him, astonished, disbelieving. Well, most of them. Neji's giving him a speculative glance that slides to Sasuke—who has yet to say anything on the matter.
"You're—you're the mother."
"Congratulations on such a youthful, exciting event!"
"Fuck, Lee, would you can it with the youthful crap?" Kiba snaps. "What do you mean, Naruto's the mother, he's not even a girl—wait. This is so confusing."
"You're telling me," Naruto mutters, clutching at the back of his neck, pressing tight fingers against the anxiety. "But it's mine. The kid, I mean." He shrugs, heart thudding hard enough in his chest to make him dizzy, unable to keep the words from spilling almost too quickly to understand. "It's a side effect. Of the seal, I mean. Or the fox's chakra. Like, you know, how I heal faster than everyone else. I've got, there was, I mean...instincts."
"So it's Sasuke's kid...and yours."
"Yes," Naruto snaps back, annoyed. "How many times are we gonna circle that fact?"
And then Kiba is the first to connect the beginning to the end. "Wait wait wait—" and he pauses so long that Naruto knows what he'll say. "Does that mean...you had buttsex with Uchiha? As in, 'I hate that bastard-Sasuke' Uchiha?"
"There must have been intercourse involved in the creation of a child. Why? He did claim that Uchiha is the father," Shino points out and then they're staring at him with a group-wide expression torn between disbelief and a squicky-ew face. Except for Shikamaru, who had already put the puzzle together and didn't seem to care.
"And he knocked you up?!"
Naruto scratches self-consciously at his cheek, eyes darting to Sasuke and back, as his face turns a slow, burning red. He doesn't speak, but then, that's an answer in itself.
Chouji clears his throat. "...I didn't know you guys were dating."
"We're not," Naruto huffs, rolling his eyes.
"But—"
"It's not like that. It just sort've...happened."
"Hmm," Chouji upends the bag over his mouth and shakes out the last of the crumbly bits. "I'm not really surprised, actually."
"Wait, what?"
"Of course," Neji murmurs blandly, almost smiling. "There is all of that pent-up aggression they seem to harbor for each other—"
"That's true!"
"Hey! Hey hey hey!" Naruto exclaims, cheeks red and scowling. "That is absolutely not why we're always fighting! Can we get back on track, here?"
"Naruto, what exactly do you need us for?" Shikamaru leans forward, intent upon Naruto, who watches back with grim determination under the flush of red on his face. "These Akatsuki guys are powerful. Most of them are missing nin, too strong for their own people to control. How are we supposed to be a vanguard against that?"
"There's no way we can—"
It's this moment that it starts to sink in to most of them how serious this might be. Naruto was jinchuuriki, and Sasuke the last of his clan and unquestionably powerful. A child of that lineage, the secretive group hunting down the nine bijuu—
"Those guys are way too strong for us—"
And despite how daunting, how powerful this group of people are, Naruto's expression shuts down into the familiar, stubborn expression as if the level of their skill doesn't matter. "I need you as back up. For the kid, I mean. To protect him. There's no question the Akatsuki want me for something—they're coming no matter what. Itachi will be the first, depending on how quickly rumors spread. We need to be as ready as we can."
"Surely with the power of Youth and Love, we shall overcome!"
"What the hell are we supposed to do?"
"As a back-up defense or a guard? Will we have to enter battle, if necessary?" Neji, calm, demeanor as though it were every day occurrence to face off against legendary rogue nin, as if he'd already made his decision to side with Naruto.
"No, a fall-back protection of the, you know, if he's in danger. Me and Sasuke, it might not be enough. I'm asking if you—if you guys will help me. I need you to help me."
"...Do you even have a plan?" Shikamaru sighs, deep and slow. "And I don't mean some crazy half-assed plan. I'm not doing this unless we have a plan."
"Shikamaru's probably got several dozen already," Chouji murmurs to Naruto. "His are probably better."
Naruto looks around to the small group of friends—friends he'd never thought he'd be able to have, friends that it felt like a gamble just to invite them here—watches them start to bicker about plans and strategy as if the words 'I made a baby with Sasuke' had no meaning. Relief is sweet-sour on his tongue, tight in his throat and Naruto forces out several slow exhalations. They were willing to help, they wanted to help—
"Naruto?"
"Oiy, what exactly do you have up your sleeve, anyway?"
Naruto's eyes open, bright with tears despite the brilliant, mischievous grin that spreads across his face. "Here's what I got," and proceeds to lay out the basics of his plans, his ideas, and if he speaks a little rougher than normal, no one mentions it.
-::-
"You do realize that Naruto's having an illicit meeting with a few of his friends," Kakashi's voice buzzes over the ear-piece.
"Mm, so?" Tsunade drawls without looking away from the endless pile of papers on her desk. Another hour and she'd have the in-box reduced by half. "You didn't give them booze, did you?"
"No, but that might have smoothed things out a little."
"Oh?"
In less than five minutes, Kakashi gives her a succinct summary of the events mapping out in Naruto's apartment. There is no mention of the Uchiha boy, not yet, but she doesn't notice the hesitation in Kakashi's voice when he mentions the attending people.
"I knew he was up to something."
"He knew I was here, too," Kakashi mused. "Even suppressed, he could tell it was me. His sense for chakra has gotten stronger."
"Interesting. Keep me informed, please."
"Ah, of course. I do, however, think it's time we get Shikaku-san and Inoichi-san involved on this."
-::-
Underneath it all, Sasuke can't help listening as much as he tries to block it out, fights the gut-loose sensation of falling. Sick dizzying freefall, unable to focus more than a moment here and there—
"—and if I'm right, then we'll be able to—"
—push it back again and try not to drown in the panic clawing through him, burning the edges of his vision, it wasn't real it couldn't be real even if it's like suffocating pressure but oh it was so hard to think to know what he should do—
"—think it'll work if we try—"
"—no, we'll have to work in pairs, at least—"
—listens within his rage and horror and the endless drowning tightness in his chest, makes it hard to think of anything but red-tangled screaming and it's all in his head he knows this and can't scrabble onto a thought long enough to pull himself out of it, pushes back and wraps himself tight in numb hatred because the hatred keeps enough of himself together to hold—
—just to hold it back—
-::-
Two hours later, they leave in straggling groups of twos and threes, overly-casual goodbyes on their way out. Kiba goes as far as "Awesome party!" and then, the door clicks shut and Naruto's left in his apartment with Sasuke still under the blanket in the midst of his mental break-down. And he doesn't seem to be up to moving around, yet, so Naruto scoops up the warm, sleeping bundle of baby to secure the tadpole in his room.
I can't believe how much I hate the silence—how much I actually—
It's eerily silent, after so many people and different chakra patterns; Naruto finds himself waiting at the edge of the hallway, uncertainly watching Sasuke's half-hidden, shivering form. A pool of rainwater has puddled underneath him, and belatedly, Naruto realizes it's still pouring outside. The walls and floor are gouged from their thirty-second mini-battle and the blond still thrums on the edges with the way fighting Sasuke like that had felt.
—missed you missed fighting you missed you more than everything else—
But Sasuke was soaked to the bone when he showed up; there was a good chance half of the shaking was the chill of the rain. Damn, that's all I need, Naruto thinks, edging the worry under the annoyance. He's going to get sick, probably. Naruto doesn't consciously decide the next course of action; he turns and slips into the bathroom and twists the hot water on until the tub is half-full and steaming. He grabs a set of loose sweatpants and sweater that were slightly stained and patched, and one of his better towels.
Then he peeks out of the door and down the hall, wondering how much of a fight Sasuke was going to give him on taking a bath. "..could just drag him in there and dump him in," he mutters to himself. It wasn't like Sasuke was up to any more struggles, anyway...
Instead, he ends up crouching next to the other boy, and pulls gingerly at the blanket. His heart seizes tight, needle-sharp, when all he can see is Sasuke's rain-matted hair and bruised arms still shielding him from everything else.
"Sasuke?" Naruto murmurs. "Hey. Everyone's gone. Are you—Sasuke?"
"—don't—"
"Come on. I know you're cold. The bathtub's waiting."
"I don't care I'm fine let go let go," Sasuke gasps, shudders when Naruto grips his wrists and pulls them away from his face.
"You're gonna get sick," Naruto tells him stubbornly, and isn't looking at him when Sasuke's fever-bright eyes dart in his direction; he's already seen the damage, already watched the fractures spread across Sasuke's expression. "Get up or I'll drag you in there. You know I will."
Sasuke can't find the strength to resist the way Naruto tugs at him, pulling him upright on unsteady legs. The world shimmers on the edge of Sasuke's vision and waves of dizzying confusion nip his thoughts into a harried, formless mess. He doesn't know how to think anymore and before he realizes it, Naruto has him standing in a steam-choked bathroom. Dull white-water noise on the edge of his hearing; he doesn't dare to rest eyes on Naruto for more than split-second because that makes everything worse, somehow, everything sliding sideways slippery red. But he doesn't fight the way Naruto mutters curses and starts to tug him out of his clothes.
Doesn't fight the way Naruto strips him bare and pushes him somewhat gently towards hot water.
"I will pick you up like a girl, Sasuke-bastard, if you don't get in there," he hears under the rushing noises through his thoughts and head and eyes, and at least that—the familiar irritation and scowling in Naruto's voice—triggers his legs to bend enough to enter the tub.
And it's hot. Almost too hot, but Sasuke doesn't care because it soothes the chill into a small knotted ball in the center of his chest. Hunched forward, his breath sends scurries of steam across the water.
"Are you okay?" Naruto asks and Sasuke—
—I will never be okay never ever ever—and Sasuke realizes the hysterical, breathless laughter isn't Naruto, but his and—look at what you've done to me how did you why did I why did I let you?—he's laughing so hard, soundless and gagging on his breath and he can't seem to stop.
Naruto dumps a bucketful of hot water over his head. "Yeah, okay, stupid question," he says over the choking gasps that Sasuke makes. "Whatever. But really—"
"Shut up," Sasuke tells him thinly, voice cracking. "Just shut up—just stop you have to stop—"
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? How many times do I have to say it? I didn't know, asshole." Naruto folds his arms along the edge of the tub and hides half of his face against them. Sasuke still hasn't really looked at him but Naruto's pretty sure that's okay as long as he doesn't go off with that crazy laughter. "I'm sorry I got mad at you before and I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't—I really didn't know. I thought—I thought I was turning into it, that I'd wake up one day and everyone would be—the village would be—"
For a long moment, the only sound is the gentle ripple of water.
"I wanted to tell you," Naruto whispers so quietly that Sasuke holds his breath to hear the things he couldn't say in front of anyone else. "I did. But you're such a jerk and you weren't—I didn't know how."
"Why..." Sasuke's voice is almost lost beneath the quick-thud pressure of Naruto's presence, the words slipping free in the haze of heat and steam. "All the—things I did to you—why? You should just—" and his eyes, half-hidden beneath flat, inky strands of hair, flicker to his and away again.
Naruto sucks in a slow breath, fingers skimming back and forth on the water until they slow into a trembling stillness, swallows against the rasp caught in his throat. He guesses more at what Sasuke isn't saying and lets his words drop like bitter, painful stones. "Don't you dare—don't you fucking dare tell me that I have to give this up. I can't—" and the word can't encompasses so many things between them Naruto sucks back all the rest of the words and pulls away. I can't I won't I won't ever so don't force my hand—
Sasuke won't speak—you can't I don't understand why you can't it doesn't work like that—closes his eyes and leans his head against the rim because he doesn't want to talk anymore, not with the terrible laughter caught between his teeth, so he shudders through breath after breath after breath until the heat has added to the dizziness in his head—you can't hate me you won't let me you can't do this to me—please oh please you can't make me choose—
—you have to stop please stop stop making me choose—
Something snaps into place, then, something so simple and unexpected that Sasuke spasms in place without realizing he'd been on the edge of unconsciousness—because he could, couldn't he? No one had ever said he couldn't, but they hadn't tried to point it out that oh god, he could choose he wanted to choose and he tastes a faint hint of copper on his tongue, the withering freefall coiling through his middle that feeds into the blood-rush roar of noise poisoning through his thoughts like venom because to give it all up and away and refuse—
"Oiy—S-Sasuke...!"
Water splashes sounds into a jumble of noise, and Sasuke isn't aware of anything but sudden, bone-searing white-heat redness behind his eyes.
-::-
Hours pass before she thinks to check in with Kakashi; he hasn't made any further reports yet and the rain hasn't bothered to stop. Twisting her neck and stretching out muscles stiff from sitting at a desk, she taps the button to open communications. "How is it over there? I'd like to find my bed sometime tonight. They are finished with their little pow-wow, right?"
"Well, it seems to have gone pretty well, actually—No one got fatally injured and all of them agreed to be the secondary backup."
"Fatally injured? What the hell, Kakashi?"
"Hmm? Oh, well, Sasuke showed up halfway through—those two had a spat, and Naruto knocked him out, I think. Seems like he's recovering pretty well—"
"Showed up—had a spat—I swear, Kakashi, if you're letting them recklessly fight—just how unstable is the Uchiha brat?"
"It's hard to tell. I haven't seen any other signs of aggression besides the initial argument. Naruto dragged him into the bathroom; Sasuke looked like a drowned rat when he arrived. The brat's probably running him a bath—"
"Ah, why does that worry me so much? This is the first time they've encountered each other since—since the arrival?" Tsunade murmurs absently, feels so tired and years past her actual age when it comes to those two. Dimly, she hears a raspy sliding noise over the earpiece—a window, she thinks with a familiar voice shouting in the background.
"Kakashi!"
"Kakashi? What's going on?"
"Hold on, Hoka—"
"Dammit, you stupid pervert, get in here! There's something wrong with Sasuke!"
The multitude of bracelets around her wrist suddenly jingle, and as she watches in spiking alarm, a bead snap-flares to summon her attention.
"Shit," Tsunade swears, pulls the bead away from her skin and signs the jutsu to activate the location. She arrives to hear Naruto snarling at Kakashi somewhere in the apartment. There is a drying spatter of blood and rainwater on the floor, and she can see the gouge-marks of a recent skirmish. An intense, violent skirmish. She's suddenly furious despite the fear that one of them is bleeding out somewhere, because it's one thing to hear Kakashi say 'had a spat' when it was three times worse than that.
"—I told you, I don't know! He laughed all crazy and passed out!"
The Hokage heads to the bathroom, expecting blood or broken bones. She finds Naruto halfway in the bath, twisted awkwardly onto his back with his legs dangling over the edge, with water halfway up his neck. His arms squeeze around a catatonic Uchiha to keep his head above water, and the blond's eyes are red and fierce when he bares his teeth at her arrival. Kakashi has one hand towards the Uchiha, but Naruto's face is a reflexive snarl with each twitch of his fingers. Bruises, some yellow-old and others a fresh purple black, spread along Uchiha's arms and shoulders and face. There is blood streaking across his mouth and chin from his nose, and Tsunade drops to her knees next to the tub without a second thought.
"Calm down and tell me exactly happened, right now." She motions Kakashi out of the way, glares back at Naruto until the eyes flicker-bleed into blue again, then settles a hand against Uchiha's sickly-pale forehead. It's fever-hot with a foul sense to the tangle of chakra she detects; her mind diagnoses a neat answer, something she's seen before and feared might happen, heart tight and cold.
"I don't know!" Naruto is saying, anxiously. "We were talking and he starting acting crazy—well, I mean he was acting crazy for a while and then we had a fight—"
"I meant right before he lost consciousness."
"Talking. We were talking. I was talking. And he just...went under. Thought he was just, you know, rinsing but he didn't come back up and he started bleeding so I sent a bunshin after Kakashi—"
Heedless of her clothes, she scoops the nude Uchiha from the water. Damn the Uchiha clan for all its secrets. "Kakashi, get Shizune out here. Naruto, clear your bed and get out," she orders as she pushes the door open with a hip, entering sideways to keep from knocking into the jamb. For once, Naruto does as ordered without complaint, darting around her and scooping up the child. Hesitates, briefly, then disappears.
Behind her, Shizune pohfs in her entry and Tsunade can already hear the muttered curses about always, always having to show up here at random times for random reasons and—Tsunade shuts everything out but her senses, hands layering over Sasuke's eyes and forward.
"Shizune, start draining chakra from the lower coils; there's feedback damage looped in on itself—how did I miss this?!" She knows, though, the answer to that. She could have tried harder to see if the boy needed help, and didn't. Guilt wriggles under her bones like parasites and she grimaces to herself. So much damage, she wants to whimper at the inflamed, infected feel of it in Sasuke's chakra, and settles in, because in part it was her fault.
-::-
"...Kakashi?"
"Hmmm?"
"...is it my fault?" Naruto whispers. "Is he like this because of—because of something I did?"
"Of course not. You might be more of a catalyst to his temper, but Sasuke's been struggling with this for a while. I just...I had hoped...But I wasn't aware of how bad the damage was. But he'll be okay," Kakashi replies quietly after a long moment, unable to even pretend to read his porn while waiting at the window. The man doesn't know how to explain the long, sordid history of Sasuke, of how Naruto ties into all of it. He can't turn his face to see the expression on his student's face because Kakashi can't deny it, even if it wasn't completely true.
Naruto swallows hard against the swollen, rough stones in his throat and even if it wasn't true, exactly, the blond still feels a rush of sour self-hatred seeping through him. Familiar, unwanted, but familiar all the same.
-::-
Later, much later than he thought, Sasuke wakes to an unfamiliar murmur of noise. He's unexpectedly warm, curled up on a bed that smells like grass and faint wood-char. Naruto's bed. He wonders how he'd gotten out of the bath, shifting a body too heavy with sleep. The window is dark with evening and the light fixture needs a bulb replaced. There's grit in the seams of his eyes and when he reflexively stretches, he actually feels—
—different. I feel...different, he thinks, and then a hand strokes across his forehead. Familiar and foreign, all at once. There's a brief moment of started recognition, of this happened before, right after, when I was—I was so young, and—
"Awake, Uchiha?"
Sasuke startles, eyes flying open with a residual stab of agony through his skull, hands clutching at the sheets draped over his torso. The Hokage doesn't pull her hand away as he stares and stares at her, croaking some sort of question without forming the words.
This isn't right. Something isn't right.
"Do you know what happened? Where you are?"
Sasuke frowns, confused, swallowing against the dry rasp of a throat. "Whhrrg..." His voice sounds like metal-shavings over glass and—dimly—remembers screaming, of sorts, or wanting to scream, remembers hate and panic and red-hued madness all centered around Naruto—the slimy pin-prick red-wash madness that doesn't seep through the cracks in his head, doesn't pull and push at him the way it had the day before, the way it felt it always had—
Tsunade pulls her hand away and settles it in her lap. Her face is pensive and worn as Sasuke glances at her and away just as quickly. "Do you know what happens to someone suffering from a mangekyou-driven tsukuyomi?"
His forehead scrunches through his confusion but he doesn't answer her. Of course he knows, his family has kept the secrets of the sharingan for centuries and Sasuke wasn't an idiot. But his throat feels like he's been screaming for days and his body more like a weeks' worth of training. Sasuke digs the heel of one hand against his eyes and temple, trying to smooth away the utter absence of—of something, something hot and sour and bitter.
"If I had known..." Her voice is quiet, pensive, as she watches him with that absent gaze. "When I was younger, before I left this village...years before your clan was annihilated...I had the opportunity to treat several cases of people afflicted with this sort of mental trauma. Did you know the damage can last for a lifetime if it isn't properly treated? Even treated, there's a chance of relapsing if the emotional stress is high enough. The worst that anyone in the Uchiha clan suffered was a mere three weeks." She pauses long enough to exhale quietly, waiting as Sasuke pulls his hand back down to his side, his dark, bruised-looking eyes staring. Waiting. "And you, kid, you've fought and survived with it for years."
"And?" Sasuke rasps. No, it wasn't...it wasn't that bad. He has to tell his hands to unclench from the blanket before it rips apart. "So what?"
"And you're lucky to be alive, you ungrateful brat!" she snaps back, just as quickly, scowling at him. She sniffs, and crosses her arms beneath the massive flesh of her bosom. "You think healing something like that is easy?"
"...then why did you? It's not like you care," Sasuke mutters and tries not to be weirded out how calm it makes him feel to see her snap at him. It wasn't that bad, he thinks indignantly, automatically. The way it should be. "If the tsukuyomi was driving me insane, you could've just let me—"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," she narrows her eyes and pokes him in the chest, flattening him back to the bed effortlessly. "You think surviving it is easy? I may not like you, Uchiha, or like the choices you made, but I would not leave you to suffer through such things."
"Obviously it's not that hard," Sasuke scowls right back.
"Do you even understand how that jutsu works?" she leans in close, voice dropping with a furious warning-sound he hasn't heard from anyone younger than sixty. "It's like a virus, a parasite. It infects your mind's ability to perceive information and changes it until you can't tell up from down. It pushes you down certain pathways, certain actions, to perpetuate itself. And you," she pokes him again right between the ribs; Sasuke flinches, slapping at her hand. "You just let it happen, Uchiha Sasuke, and I'll be damned if I let you off with a pat on the head, you stupid child."
Sasuke can't unclench his fists, pulls and twists the fabric of the blanket, doesn't try. He stares at the ceiling with a jaw held just as tight against the angry, indignant responses bouncing through his skull—let it happen?! I've never just let it happen you arrogant bitch—and, as she continues and her voice sounds so sad—
"You've suffered for years and despite it all, it hasn't managed to consume you or the ones around you. You should be counting your lucky cards while you still have them to count. I hope to whatever god you believe in that you don't think this jutsu is an excuse for all the horrible things you've said and done because it sure as hell doesn't make the decisions for you, it only influences you towards them. Think on that, for a while, until you understand just exactly how you let this jutsu make you into something worse than human."
—worse than—it wasn't that bad it wasn't ever that bad I always—I was always—Sasuke thinks of his mother, and how the Hokage's angry, chiding tones mimic his memories and how much it doesn't hurt to think of it—how much everything feels distinct and crystalline different—doesn't want to think of how horrible it is that she could be right and how tight his chest is seizing because of it. Because of all of it. She can't be right, this wasn't—stares up at Naruto's water-stained ceiling, patterned with familiar cracks and tries to pull in air that seems too thin to breath.
"And I didn't even—I'm such an idiot. I'm an idiot for not trying to help you more. I should've known, I should've seen it, somehow. I should have tried harder to help you." Tsunade's mutter is barely audible, strangled. Her eyes gleam in what could be tears. She sniffs in the effort to control her temper and—to Sasuke's flinching surprise, strokes a hand across his forehead. Again. It nearly breaks free the ball of childish hurt to have her touch him like that because no one's made a gesture of comfort like that in years, even as she tells him, "You did well, despite it all."
No, I did something bad! the thought drifts through his mind, something he had said to his mother when he was five and utterly devastated upon breaking one of his favorite toys. With the memory, vivid and fresh and bitter for all its painlessness, Sasuke curls up onto his side, facing the wall, pulling out of her reach without even realizing it was happening. She doesn't say anything more, even when he's acutely aware of the burning spreading through his chest and throat, aware of the sounds of her departure.
When she's gone, when he knows she's gone, breath too fast and throat thick, he buries his head against a lumpy grass-char scented pillow, and weeps.
-::-
Naruto is staring at her from the couch when she leaves the room; Tsunade wonders beneath all the aching tiredness if she looks as haggard as she feels. The blond doesn't say anything, not at first, and drops his jaw-clenched gaze to the infant in his arms as she passes behind him.
"He'll be fine, for now. We were able to reverse a majority of the damage. If he's careful, he shouldn't regress any further." she offers anyway, and Kakashi, still perched in the window with his book unopened, sighs in relief. He nods briefly at the gesture she gives him, aware that she still has something to discuss with him, before he vanishes out the window with lingering worry directed towards his loudmouth student.
"You okay, brat?" Tsunade pauses long enough to press a hand to golden hair, long enough to sense the miniscule flinch that shudders through him.
Naruto makes a strangled sound but doesn't look up. He clears his throat, lifts a shoulder and mutters. "Sure. No problem."
"You sure? You seemed pretty freaked out."
Naruto shrugs again, desperately glad she can't see the way his face is twisting, the difficulty he has in keeping his voice level and disinterested. "Yeah. He's okay, right? Not drowning in my tub, at least. So, yeah. I'm fine."
"Did Kakashi tell you what happened?" Tsunade tweaks his hair a bit, smoothing it back down.
Naruto only hesitates a fraction of a thought before he lies, muttering "Yeah. Of course he did."
"Alright," she murmurs after a moment. "You should let him rest as long as he's willing to stay. I've left you another bracelet. In case you need anything."
-::-
"Hokage-sama," Kakashi is beside her the minute she steps onto the street, and as they begin to walk her hands flash through seals until the sounds around them are slowly muted. Her sigh is deep and pained; she doesn't look at the former anbu still walking beside her, matching strides.
"How long has he spent, fueled by such a thing, convinced it was the only way? Why would—why would anyone wish that on a child?"
Kakashi makes a noncommitalsound before he speaks. "I'm as much to blame as you for not trying harder to help him. Will he...will he be able to recover?"
"There was so much damage," she breathes. "I did what I could. I can't do any else for that little brat. The rest is up to him, but he's going to need your help."
-::-
(...in three hours)
By the time Sasuke feels in control enough to drag himself from the bed and find his clothing, he realizes it's much later than he thought. He plans on sneaking out as quickly as possible, despite how late it is, praying in the corner of his mind that no one will notice. He moves silently into the hallway, most of the apartment is dark except for a small lamp in the furthest corner of the living room. The rain has passed and the stars glint through the patchwork clouds.
Naruto is there, illuminated by the dim golden light, presenting nothing but his back to Sasuke. Briefly, watching the unfamiliar movements, he wonders what the idiot is doing over there, practically in the corner with everything else between him—oh—Sasuke falters. He's put everything, himself included, between the corner and the entryways. Which meant, Naruto was—with the—
"You can sleep on the couch, if you want," Naruto calls out, quietly. Distracting enough that Sasuke doesn't answer, can't answer, can't move because the panic is seeping through his middle—this, at least, hasn't changed and Sasuke wishes he knew what the fuck that even means—
"I'm almost done. Then you won't have to see him, if you don't want to."
Sasuke is utterly bewildered because wasn't Naruto just clawing tooth and nail to get him to do just that? He must have made a noise, because the blond stills into a hunching quietness that looks so wrong.
"That's—that's what you want, right? It's easier this way, right?" Naruto sighs, sounding empty and dull and hurt. "If you don't have to look. If you don't see. So I figured—I'll just—I'll leave you alone and stuff."
What do you want from me?! Sasuke wants to scream at him, again, over and over until he gets an answer that makes sense. Why does it have to be me?! But he's frozen to the spot, unable to breath deep enough to make a whisper of sound, unwilling to move because this—this—is everything Sasuke had strained to accomplish, to push him away, to force his hate, tried so hard to pull together—still tries, anguished, to make it feel right—
Naruto, oblivious to Sasuke's position or the expression on his face, lifts the tadpole to his shoulder for burping, patting at his back and Sasuke can see he can see the child's face his child's face and he hadn't wanted to because Naruto was right it was always easier not to see but—
But Naruto never seems to give him that chance and now Sasuke—
Sasuke, in the solitary, near-silent depths of his mind, knows what he would have named a child, long ago, when his world had been so much different. Looks like you, too—A name he'd decided on in childhood, a name that had Itachi smiling when he heard it because it had been a great-uncle of theirs, a fierce and powerful shinobi—A good name, his brother had said, once, so very long ago—
Sasuke gasps, perched on the windowsill without realizing he's flashed there out of panic, out of grief. Haven't even named it yet—his head hangs, hair still damp and hiding his face and he can't turn towards the room again, can't turn around no matter how much his insides twist.
"Shut the window behind you when you leave," Naruto calls out again, voice devoid of everything that makes him vibrant and it digs and twists and burns deep into Sasuke's middle, clawing and wrong. He'd been so wrong—
Sasuke's fingers clench on the sill and it takes every ounce of will just to say it. Gasp it, really, once he actually says it. "Kazuki."
"...huh?"
Sasuke gasps again with a broken little sound, without turning. Stupid you're so stupid you don't even know how—
"You stupid moron." Sasuke cries harshly, grating through a moment that feels like swallowing nails and wire. Then he's unfolding through the window with Naruto's blue-sky eyes against his spine, leaving the last of his words within the silence. "Uchiha Kazuki."
-::-
Kakashi finds him curled up against the chill of the night on the street leading to his house, hidden in the shadows between the fence posts, bruised arms up and wrapped around his head. Sasuke's shaking from the late-night cold, unable to lift his head when his teacher crouches next to him, unwilling to show his face.
"I can't," Sasuke's whisper is hoarse and strained, when he's finally aware of his presence. "I can't go home."
"Okay," Kakashi replies gently. The Hokage had warned him about any backlash to Sasuke's current mental state, possible triggers and situations to avoid. Sasuke's home—the center of his madness, in a way—would rank at the top of the list for pretty much all of them. "Are you alright?"
"...I don't know," Sasuke replies through a gaspy wheeze. He swallows, hard, a sound caught in his teeth. It's hard for Kakashi to see the streaks of tears on his face with the last remnants of the rain, while Sasuke struggles with the words in his throat. "I can't—I can't go in there but I don't know what to do—it's wrong it's all wrong, Kakashi-sensei it's all fucking wrong!" he chokes in breath after breath. "Don't make me go back in there."
"Come on, then," Kakashi touches the cold skin of Sasuke's arm, rests his palm against the dark, rain-heavy hair. He watches the boy flinch, keeps his voice low and soothing. "I know a place. It's time we had a chat. Maybe you're ready to listen to it, this time."
-::-
Sunrise spreads across the sky by the time Kakashi settles to a stop; he's three hours of sprinting beyond Konoha's borders and Sasuke's a heavy weight on his back in his trauma-induced sleep. He hadn't bothered to inform the Hokage of his intentions; it's likely she already knew, and Kakashi knows with his own heavy, long-carried anguish that this could be the only chance Sasuke has.
The dark-haired boy—young man, really, since Kakashi doesn't have any reservations about the maturity of his student anymore—makes a discomforted noise and stirs when Kakashi bends a knee to the stony ground.
"Where are we?" Sasuke asks hoarsely, pushing himself away. Kakashi settles down with his own legs crossed, waiting until Sasuke shudders his way to the ground.
"About a hundred miles west of Konoha," Kakashi tells him cheerfully, watching Sasuke's eyes sharpen, confused, watching his student almost scowl at him.
"Why did you bring me all the way out here?"
"Because you'll need the space, for a while. Because I know why you tried to make Naruto stay away, why you wanted him to hate you. I know why it was so important, and now that it's obvious you failed—" Pauses when Sasuke's face twists, eyes flashing bloody-red as he goes pale, then continues in the same annoyingly cheerful voice. "We're going to try something else."
"Try something else?!" Sasuke hisses.
Kakashi stares at him with that sharp, silent look. Then he says, "Is he important, despite all your efforts? Despite your efforts, he's given you a precious gift. Do you truly want him dead? Even if it gives you the mangekyou?"
"I—" Sasuke's heart spasms so quick in his chest it's painful. Breath is suddenly hard to pull into his lungs and the words shrivel like drying mold in his throat. I tried already I did I tried to—I couldn't and if I can't then—
—then how can I how—
"There isn't any other way!" Sasuke rasps, shrill, looking down and wondering when he'd began clutching at his chest. "Itachi s-said it was the o-only way t-to—If I can't, then how will I—how do I protect him?!"
"Oh, kid." Kakashi says softly. "I keep trying to tell you there's another way, Sasuke. There's always another way. Are you finally ready to find your own path?"
-::-
(232 days and counting)
"Please tell me you know what that stupid brat is up to," Tsunade is cross-legged on her desk, head braced on her hand and scribbling signature after signature on a stack of paperwork as high as her elbow.
Jiraiya eases into a chair, senses testing the air for traps or worse before he decides to answer. "Naruto's told me something, but I'm pretty sure half of it is bullshit."
"Are you surprised?" Tsunade glances briefly at him, pointedly, until the crazy-haired hermit rolls his eyes and slips the sake bottle from his sleeve. "That brat is nothing but crazy bullshit half the time."
"So, he's got a plan, apparently. Which involves—" Jiraiya pauses to tick off a number on his fingers. "Six other people, so far. Not including Uchiha, or us."
"Seven," Tsunade corrects him. "Seven people know outside of us. He told Iruka not too long ago." She brings the Hokage seal down upon a document, shaking her desk and shifting the towering stack into a definite tilt. "Kakashi's been keeping me up to date."
"Oh?" Jiraiya reaches out to nudge the stack more or less upright. "You've got him spying and reporting back, now?"
"Well, that cheeky little punk isn't going to, is he?"
"Hmm. His plan does have some merit, you know. It just might work. If they don't screw up."
"That 'plan' involves a lot of underaged children training and running around doing god knows what. How is that plan going to keep those kids safe, much less this village?"
"They're training under some of the best we have, and they have a solid foundation to start from." Jiraiya snorts. "I've sneaked a peek at the Nara kid's plans and back-up plans and back-ups for the back-ups to the back-ups. Kid's got some talent; Azuma should be proud."
"We don't even know if it will work. Plans fail. Chance happens, people die from chance."
"Tsunade-hime, it's the only thing we've got. Give that boy a chance and he'll turn it on its head and come out laughing. So we give him that chance, even if it means they train and plan and hide."
Tsunade sighs, groans and flops down into her chair, leaving her crossed ankles supported by the desk. "I never wanted this," and Jiraiya knows it's more than the situation. It's everything with the village, the unimaginable risk of loss and death. The possibility of unwelcome response once it's actually clear whose child it really was.
Jiraiya silently pours out the sake for his old team-mate and sighs. "You could always just leave. Again."
"Fuck you, you pervy old geezer," she snarls over the burn of the sake. "Who's going to teach them the advanced healing jutsus, huh? I'm damn sure they're going to tell Sakura, since none of them have the knack for that level, and you think I'm just going to let them run off into the wind half-cocked?"
Jiraiya doesn't even try to hide his grin, this time.
-::-
The second day, Kakashi hands him the hilt of a tanto blade and shows him how to position his fingers. Sasuke shakes and mumbles out "I remember how—" and breathes and breathes through hitch of lung and heart. Comes back a few moments—minutes? Hours?!—later with Kakashi's hand looped comfortably around the back of his neck.
"There, good," Kakashi replies. "I thought it'd be best if we worked on your forms, as well."
"B-But—"
"I won't force you, but it's a skill in reflex you'll need."
Sasuke tightens numb, trembling fingers over the hilt, and shudders through the force of his exhale. "Show me."
-::-
(seven days later)
Their next team meeting takes place outside of Naruto's apartment in a clearing, a ten-minute sprint into the dense forest. Naruto had picked it after careful search. The edge of the treeline is scored with jutsu designed to warn of impending arrival, far from the direct sight of the village, far from any prying eyes. Naruto watches them arrive in small groups. Everyone's there but Sasuke when Naruto clears his throat. He doesn't expect Sasuke to be there, not yet, but he still waits five minutes before he drops down from the tree he's perched in when they're gathered below him.
"Hey" Naruto greets them without preamble, tosses down a handful of bracelets made of simple twine and wooden beads. "Here. I made these for you guys."
"You made us friendship bracelets?"
"No, they—Tsunade-hag showed me how to make them. They're for security. There's a jutsu in the beads that's linked to everyone else, and when you break the cord, someone else can locate your position. They're like mini-bunshin that bounce the position back to you."
"Really?"
"That's a hi-grade jutsu," Shikamaru points out. "Have we been authorized for this?"
"So if we encounter something—we can notify the rest of us?"
"Yeah. In case something happens. Tsunade-hag is okay with the idea of us having a secret team, or whatever she wants to call this. What do you think we should focus on more, offense or defense?" Naruto's question sets off a babble of musing contribution and he's glad to see Shino scribbling notes onto paper as they start lobbing ideas around.
"Well, it'll be winter soon. We should work on specific jutsu, like wards and such."
"Yeah, that could work."
"What about sparring? We could do light single pairings, or two-versus-one sparring, or whatever. Small groups. What about specialized training?"
"Hey, where are we going to do this? Anyone have room for all of us?"
Naruto has his knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around them, a stinging sadness in his chest because everyone looks so—so adult, now, grim and young but adult. "I was thinking we learn as many jutsu or strengths as we can. For that, we'll need anyone in Kakashi's league or more. Tsunade-hag, the pervy sannin, Gai—whomever we can get to train us. We learn from them and master it. We learn from everyone, just to know that one little thing that keeps us alive."
"I thought of strategies we could use."
"Oh, we could train for every situation."
"Hey, is Sasuke coming? We need to work out the first round of pairs, right?"
"We're working on that," Naruto sighs, after a moment, then makes a horribly annoyed expression. "Besides, I don't know where the fuck he is, anyway."
-::-
(gone 11 days)
Sasuke is flat on his back on rough, stony ground, lungs heaving for breath. Kakashi waits nearby, patiently reading the stupid porn book he pulls out any time he wants to imply Sasuke's efforts are useless. His mind whirls with dizzying pain and he wonders if his ribs are cracked; they sting with any deep breathing he tries. They're miles and miles away from the village, and Sasuke has spent the last five days living in a goddamned cave, of all places, while Kakashi has done his best to annoy the crap out of Sasuke at every turn under the guise of training.
Dammit, his thoughts blur together. I won't—I can't—
"You conscious?" Kakashi calls, turning a page.
"Fuck off," Sasuke replies, breathlessly.
"Ready for the next round?"
Sighing, grimacing, Sasuke rolls over to his front and pulls himself into an unsteady crouch, determined to keep his balance. Kakashi has given him a rough idea of Naruto's plan—well, Shikamaru's plan because Naruto couldn't plan for shit—but there's too much fear, too much doubt to really think about it and how it could work—that it might just be enough. That he could have a place in all of it, despite it all.
"You won't ever forget that they're dead," Kakashi tells him blandly—Sasuke's eyes widen, face pale and already moving into the stances, mind ringing over and over with dead dead dead—and suddenly Kakashi's too close to Sasuke, casually using his legs for strikes and sweeping kicks.
Sasuke only shudders and manages to avoid the first round, even as Kakashi continues "Not really. It'll be hard. The hardest thing you'll ever choose to do. You'll always know they all died, but you're not dead yet, are you, because you've made your choice." Because the point of this training was for Sasuke to figure out how to cope, how to control the reaction carved into thought and memory and see through it.
"—you are not dead and if you can't protect Naruto, he will die."
Sasuke lasts about two minutes before he's screaming out in rage and denial, the sharingan whirling redness to match the agony in his head—deaddeaddead dead like your mother dead like everyone—Kakashi has his own buffer to Sasuke's eyes, and his attack suddenly shifts into a higher gear, meeting strikes and blocks without ever looking away from the goddamned porno in his hands. Cold and dead unless—
"Are you going to let some pitiful jutsu control your actions, Sasuke? Focus!" Kakashi snaps—
This time, briefly—he pushes it back just enough, shoved against it with a solid, burning core of something that won't let him forget the reasons he was out here and switch from the offensive sparring to a specific stance and hold it—
—one arm up over his head, balanced on one foot and the other hand extended palm up, what a stupid stance—
—and he gets it, he does; the point is to redirect his mental state by focusing on a specific physical action—but it's been surprisingly difficult for Sasuke to calm his thoughts, to draw the line between his own will and determination and the horrid, suffocating sense of desperate hate, the utter need to keep no one close enough to hurt him, no one close enough to be hurt. No matter how loud the shrieking redness in his head becomes—I won't I can't just let him die—
And Sasuke, clawing for control—he'll be dead like everyone else dead and gone and cold if I let him die if I could just—sick with anguish and rage and pain, can only push it back and control it for the space of fifteen thundering heartbeats, a few precious seconds before Kakashi has to knock him out again.
He regains consciousness about fifteen minutes later, aching, nearly sobbing as his hands slide up over his face and eyes. Thinks fiercely won't I won't I won't just let you—and pushes himself back to his feet.
"I think that will be enough, today," Kakashi tells him, shoving at his shoulder until Sasuke hits the ground with a heavy thump, exhausted by the act of breathing. His hand is warm and gentle, and Sasuke only looks up, eyes aching back into a darker color, skin tight with drying tears.
"It's not—it doesn't feel like it's working."
"It is," Kakashi crinkles his eye at him. "You're lasting three times as long when we first started. I'm proud of you. We'll work on forms later, and I want to hear at least three positive things tonight."
"...ugh," Sasuke twists his face to show his displeasure and shoves his arm away. "I hate your stupid feelings shit."
Laughing, Kakashi nudges him in the shoulder. "I'm going to check in with the rest. You feel like coming with?"
Sasuke flinches, shaking his head before he even thinks of a response.
"All right. I'll bring you back a souvenir, how about that?"
-::-
It doesn't take long for things to start falling into place in Naruto's hasty, half-realized plan. He sends his new group of 'special ops' shinobi out in their original team pairings, sends them to their teachers with the simple request of extra training. Shikamaru draws up a three-page outline of everyone's strengths and weakness and pairs them up accordingly, and their once-a-week gatherings start to look more like group training, as they all take turns in sparring, practice and jutsu. In three short weeks they'd start to switch partners and ask other teachers—those that didn't know the score—for extra lessons to strengthen their weaker skills.
With winter only a few months away, Gai is the first to be asked, and the man agrees to the extra lessons with such zeal that Naruto almost—just almost—feels sorry for them. He doesn't let any of his team see the grin on his face when he spots them running circles around the village, or the hundreds of pushups leave their arms weak and numb.
Asuma will be their guide in strategy, Kurenai for her skill in genjutsu—and Naruto already has an idea that Sasuke will prove to be an apt pupil—and Tsunade has filled several bins with small scrolls of battle-field healing jutsu.
Kakashi attends the first several secret meetings by appearing out of nowhere, offering suggestions or information on which teacher would be available for a group lessons or individual training. Aside from the information he gives them with vague, unhelpful hints, he teaches them hand seals and jutsu that take them days to master the movements, and longer for the appropriate chakra control.
Naruto spends more of his time with Jiraiya, losing track of time during practice, until he glances at a calender and realizes it's been nearly two weeks since he'd seen Sasuke, since a name that Naruto had yet to share with anyone else had been given.
Naruto doesn't let himself ask questions about Sasuke, tries not to think of him every time he glances to a small dark-haired child, tries not to worry. He knows Kakashi has taken it upon himself to coax Sasuke into training with him, knows his teacher will do everything he can, and hopes it'll be enough.
-::-
(evening, day 11)
Tsunade's stare is cold and heavy when Kakashi slides the window up and swings his legs inside. "Hokage-sama," he greets, shamelessly. He offers her a bottle as silent compensation and grins behind his mask when she swipes it from his hand.
"How's the brat?" she asks, vague in case of passing listeners, and takes in Kakashi's appearance without comment. His clothes are dusty and torn and give off several days' worth of unwashed smell. There are also bruises on his arms and hands, and a tired heavy look to his eyes.
"It's hard on him, but his ability to discern unnatural influences is improving," Kakashi admits quietly. "I've tried to give him more positive things to focus on, instead of forcing him to pretend he shouldn't be upset. Seems to help, but he's not as successful with the redirection. Are you sure I should continue?"
"Yes," she replies, feeling just as old and tired as she had when the idea for a type of rehabilitation had occurred to her. "You know very well that the best defense against the tsukuyomi will be his own convictions, just as much as giving him the reasons for it."
"And if it breaks him?"
"I think it's already broken him," she replies. "We're just waiting to see how the pieces reassemble, now. Will he be returning soon? He can't avoid Naruto forever."
"I have no idea when he wants to come back," and what she can see of Kakashi's face turns decidedly amused. "He barely talks to me about his personal life as it is. How is Naruto?"
"Moping like a heartbroken girl," she tells him, rolling her eyes. "But don't tell him I said that. While I personally think they'll be able to help each other overcome their failings—once they're done being stupid—they're just as likely to destroy my village while they're at it."
"Hmmm," Kakashi murmurs. "You know, that's a brillant idea."
-::-
(two hundred and forty two since—)
Thirteen days after he'd arrived to the area, Sasuke's sprinting back down the rocky path towards the village, running because Kakashi had left yesterday and hadn't even asked if Sasuke wanted to return with him. The man had implied some vague, impressed little murmur of some skill Naruto was mastering, and all of a sudden, it was all Sasuke could to not to think about how much the idiot could be doing without Sasuke there to hold him back. It's a constant, niggling little thought in his head too close to worry, too aware of how long he'd been away.
It takes Sasuke three hours to make his way back towards the village, veering off in the direction of Naruto's subtle-flicker chakra and finds himself near the training grounds where he knows Naruto will be, three hours ridden with thoughts and fickle, twisting hope that wouldn't die, no matter how hard he thought of every worst possibility—
—he's mad at me he won't care he's mad—
But when he does, almost tricking himself into it with the rising worry that Naruto was training without him now, the blond is there, glancing at Sasuke and pushing sweaty hair from his eyes, waiting. Alone. Sasuke stands there on the edge of shadow, arms tight across his middle in the early-autumn air, trying not to watch how the sky-blue eyes widen.
Then Naruto's face is twisting into a familiar fury and he's practically screeching "You're so fucking late, asshole!" and Sasuke fights off the reflexive smirk because Naruto's bristling scowl is almost comforting. "Where the fuck have you been?"
Sasuke doesn't answer—came to see if you—but he's there staring from across the clearing, as Naruto stomps—literally stomps—towards Sasuke with a stiff back and brilliant furious eyes and white-knuckled fists. If you're still—Doesn't speak, as he watches Naruto come within touching distance, has him by the shirt and keeps himself from grinning because this is familiar and right, Naruto's anger, his attention—Sasuke lifts his hand to push at the fist tangled in his shirt, running all the way here has left his heart pounding—
Then Naruto punches him across the face, before Sasuke can even see the movement—then he's away and out of reach again as Sasuke picks himself up off the ground and smears away the blood on his mouth. The grin he's been holding off flashes across Sasuke's face, but Naruto doesn't look back to see it. He's suddenly out of sight and Sasuke doesn't even know how to quantify the rush of relief that thins his blood into a soaring opalescence—still you're still you're still chasing me if you still need me if you still—
That idiot had punched him in the goddammed face.
-::-
Not long after Sasuke's self-made decision to return whether he was ready or not, Kakashi finds himself on some side street with a sudden heavy weight over his shoulder. When he looks up from his book, there's an arm draped around him. Oh. Crap.
"Yo, Kakashi," Asuma drawls, puffing on his cigarette. "Where have you been? We rarely see you anymore."
"Ah, well," Kakashi replies breezily. "You know how it is."
"Yeah, I suppose I do." Asuma nods sagely, then brightens suspiciously. "Hey, I know just the thing! You should join us for a drink, it'll be fun, right?"
"I suppose one couldn't hurt, let me just go find my wallet—" Kakashi laughs too brightly himself, unable to wiggle out from under Asuma's arm, walking down the road without a choice in direction. Asuma pulls—steers, really—stating he'll actually pay for any drink Kakashi needs as they head down the along the street towards a favorite pub, far enough out of the way to have a large number of shinobi patronage and Kakashi has a good idea of what a surprise invitation for a drink entails; he's well aware of what the younger generation has been up to. In fact, he's rather curious to find out how much his fellow teachers have pieced together.
Inside, he's greeted by exactly who he expects to see. Shikaku, looking bored with his hands shoved into his pockets, standing near Inoichi who was muttering to himself over paperwork. In front of them, Gai, horribly bright green even in the shadows and Kurenai, calmly waiting with crossed arms near the bar.
Gai beams when Kakashi enters the dingy little bar. "Kakashi! My esteemed rival! I have such wonderful news! Your amazing students—and yours, Asuma-san, Kurenai-san—they have approached me for extra lessons!" The man nearly shakes with joy. "Such zeal, such zest for life!"
"Is that so," Kakashi murmurs blandly, avoiding Shikaku's raised eyebrow.
"Actually," Kurenai chimes in. "They've approached all of us in one form or another. Strange, isn't it?" She smiles broadly and Kakashi has the impression of delicately bared fangs. "Normally, I'd believe the excuse of training for the exams, but even the toad Sannin is involved."
"Oh, most exciting! We all have the youthful joy of training the next generation into magnificent warriors!"
"Even the Hokage seems to be involved," Asuma practically shoves Kakashi into the corner of the booth, and the rest of them crowd in. There's several bottles of high-grade sake on the table, and the man begins to pour as they sit. "So, Shikaku thinks we should discuss what kind of village-wide prank they could be up to. Kakashi, want to tell us what's going on with your students, since they seem to be the ones pulling everyone else into this...training?"
"Well, there's not much to tell," Kakashi begins—and Asuma, Kurenai and Gai simply stare at him. "I mean, if I had the clearance—" and by chance, his glance slides over Inoichi.
"Don't look at me," Inoichi waves the pen in his hand and goes back to marking something down. "I'm just here on the Hokage's behalf. She's got a bet going."
Kurenai exchanges a mild look with Asuma, then sighs. "What does this have to do with the nine-tails?"
"And the Uchiha?"
"If I didn't know better," Gai laughs boisterously and hits the nail on the head without even knowing he held the hammer. "I'd say our illustrious students are preparing for war!"
Kakashi's eyes flicker, then narrow. Then sighs as if the world's problems suddenly landed on his shoulders. "Kurenai, make a barrier, please." Then, after the sound-and-light blocking jutsu wavers into place, after Inoichi curses and hands his wallet to Shikaku, the jounin begins to tell them, in summary, the worst of it.
-::-
Less than a minute after he's aware that Sasuke has wandered back into town, Naruto flicks a pulse of chakra against the group-bead on his bracelets, heart thudding because Sasuke—! The stuck-up prick had finally shown his face after weeks—fucking weeks—had shown up just staring at him, watching him with a too-pale dirty face and hauntingly dark eyes and no expression that Naruto could see.
But he'd been there, right there, when Naruto had looked up at the flicker of his senses, had seen Sasuke watching him. Ten seconds after his impulsive kneejerk reaction to Sasuke's presence—why did I do that?!—he's darting through the woods until he's suddenly aware he's sprinting as fast as he can. Sprinting away. He sends a pulse of chakra through the jutsu-beads, a general message for an impromptu meeting, and wonders how long it'll take his heart to stop trying to rip itself up his throat and throw itself at Sasuke.
I punched him in the face! Naruto thinks, dazedly. "I punched the bastard in the face," he repeats aloud, blinking, then snickers just a tiny bit. Then he's off to meet his team because the solitary heat-flicker on the edge of awareness isn't too far behind. "Fuck, I punched him in the face."
The others are already waiting for him by the time Naruto dashes into view; Gai's training has paid off in spades in that regard. Sasuke's chakra-flicker is still pretty far behind him, but he doesn't stop for anything, even as he reaches the meeting spot and skids to a stop.
"Uh, hey, Naruto. Why the hell are you running like that for?"
"What's going on? Why'd you call us out here?"
"I punched him in the face," Naruto tells them, breathless, eyes flicking around, waiting.
"What?"
"Who'd you punch in the face?"
"—holy shit!" someone cries out, as Sasuke appears practically out of nowhere and slams home a ten-foot crater into the ground where Naruto had been, a breath before.
"I punched that bastard in the face!" Naruto crows, dodging the strike even as Sasuke closes in with wicked speed, redirected the force of a kick and rolls under an attack that would've broken bone had it landed. Sasuke's eyes are bright, his expression intensely focused, as Naruto twists with sudden speed and then—as everyone is staring at them and getting out of the way—they settle into sparring with violent abandon. Slapping hands to wrists and elbows and blocking strikes, Naruto's gotten into the habit of using kicks, more, and Sasuke has to bend and twist around them. Ground is cracked and the trees shudder when they dodge out of range from each other and—
I missed this, Naruto realizes during their skirmish. Missed it because he hadn't been able to fight back, not quite enough, had missed the way he could get Sasuke to focus on him, to see him—missed feeling so fast and strong and here—
Sasuke, throughout all of it, doesn't say a word but Naruto couldn't care less; the stupid bastard was too busy trying to return the favor, so wickedly fast and vicious that their little sparring match is over in about five minutes. Naruto hasn't recovered enough to last any longer; Sasuke gets in a nasty flurry of blows that ends with a right cross glancing off Naruto's shoulder and knocks him off balance for the sweeping kick into his kidney. He goes tumbling across the ground, though, landing on flat on his back, but he's okay with it because Sasuke's had to earn that last blow.
Sasuke's staring at him, breathing hard and scraped on the face and knuckles, keeps his loose fists at chin level. Blood still trickles from the split on his lip; the expression on his face is twisted with something both horrified and awestruck. He waits there, a few yards away, while Naruto pushes himself back onto his feet with visible effort. Naruto hasn't forced him into heavy breathing during sparring in months and fuck he can't believe how much he's missed this—
The blond spits blood to the side without taking his eyes from Sasuke, a wide teeth-bared gleeful wicked grin on his face, then snorts. "Do I need to go over the plan with you, or you smart enough to figure it out?"
Sasuke huffs and glances around, smears the blood from his mouth again, and doesn't answer. The fingers of his hands visibly tremble as his eyes flick around the rest of the team.
"Holy crap," Kiba blurts out. "That was awesome."
"I guess we know why Naruto's been sitting out on most of the sparring," Chouji comments with a shrug. "We're totally outclassed."
Then Lee, beaming, says the worst thing possible, even if he doesn't realize it. "Uchiha-san! Congratulations on becoming a fa—"
"Lee!" Naruto snaps even as he realizes—as Sasuke's shoulders jerk and his head whips towards the green-clad ninja with that horrible, gut-empty insanity—a look of utter devastated horror—that Sasuke is borderline broken. He'd forgotten that fact during the fight because it had been easy to do so when Sasuke had been like that, fierce and quick and everything that Naruto wanted to have, wanted to be—
Then the Uchiha is gone, and Naruto lands on his ass with an exhausted "Dammit, Lee," that he can't finish. He hadn't given it much thought, yet, but anxiety creeps beneath the worry that Sasuke won't be up to acknowledging the child yet—their child—maybe not ever. That something was still wrong with him, something could be wrong with him forever. His mind shutter-flashes through Sasuke's dusty, unkempt appearance, his silence and trembling, strung-out stance.
Lee blinks in sudden concern. "Was it something I said?"
"No, it's just—he's just—" Naruto presses hands through his hair and tugs, exhaling, trying to think. "...really, really bad with coping."
-::-
Sasuke finds himself standing in the middle of the street outside the entrance to his district without any awareness of how, exactly, he'd gotten there. His mind is whirling red and white and painfully hot, in time to his thudding heart and lungs. Congratulations—punched me right in the face and he's faster—congratulations on—somehow he's gotten faster but he—he'd known that the others had agreed to Naruto's impossible insane ideas, that they'd all be training or attempting to but—
Sasuke shudders, a low moan escaping him as he pressed clutching fists to the middle of his chest. "—moron you stupid moron you stupid fucking idiot," because he's off-center with how such a little statement had caught him off-guard, as harmless and unfinished it was. For us—he'd asked them and they—like it's easy they'll fight for us I didn't ask them but they will—for us—Congratulations as if they knew, as if they believed it possible it must have been had to be if they were willing to throw themselves into harms way for Naruto, for—
"Sasuke?" someone asks, and he looks up to see Kakashi blinking at him. The man is perched on the low retaining wall, as if he'd been casually strolling along. "You're back early! I hadn't expected to see you here yet." he's exclaiming brightly.
Sasuke simply stares at him, wire-taught, and forces his hands to relax, pushing everything else back into its neat little box in his head.
"I know that look. Did you run into Naruto?" Kakashi waits for an answer that Sasuke doesn't give, then continues speaking as if he had. "Well, that's good you're still conscious, at any rate. Let's go get something to eat, shall we? You can tell me what happened!"
"He...," Sasuke shudders, inhaling deep when he remembers he's supposed to breathe. Then he grudgingly admits. "He punched me."
-::-
Naruto crawls into the Hokage's tower through an open window, even though his arrival startles the two women given audience to Tsunade. The Hokage herself only pauses long enough to give him a dirty glower and wave him away with a muttered "Impudent little shit," before turning back to the women in front of her desk.
Winking at the women—who just stare at him—Naruto strolls over to the door across the room and lets himself inside. He leans on the closed door, briefly, before crawling onto the bed and the little person half-asleep in a nest of blankets. Tsunade is the only person he trusts to keep the tadpole safe, yet—until he can figure out if Sasuke's up to the challenge or not.
"Hey there, little frog," he murmurs, running light fingertips over the shock of black hair and pudgy cheeks. The tadpole—Kazuki, his mind repeats. Little Kazuki-chan—only squeaks and kicks a little with equally pudgy legs.
"Saw your crazy dad, today," Naruto whispers. "—and I punched him in the face!"
-::-
On the evening of the second day after Sasuke had shown up out of nowhere, Naruto wakes to trickle of chakra inside his apartment. He keeps his breathing low and sleep-steady, a slight snore on the inhale. He's curled on the couch in his living room, back to the room, arms cradling a tiny body until it was hidden almost from sight.
Aware, and un-afraid, because he knows the particular thorn-prick nature of the chakra as well as his own, and just as carefully pretends he's sleeping. Sasuke's standing less than a yard away, and Naruto wonders if the bastard knows he's in a blindspot on purpose, or intuition. He waits, feeling tension ratchet with every fake breath, nerves humming tightly and waits because he's not sure what exactly Sasuke's going to do.
Then the blanket draped around his body twitches.
Naruto cracks his eyes open just enough to see a hand stretch into view, knuckles scraped and raw-looking, dirt-seamed nails. A long-fingered hand that shakes like the air is freezing, muscles twitching under skin, and presses a ghost of a touch to the tufts of soft black hair.
Throat squeezing tight, Naruto struggles with every scrap he has not to flinch, to let his breath catch, because he understands why Sasuke's here even as his heart thuds into crazy freefall. Understands that sneaking in is easier. Watches as Sasuke runs the tips of his fingers over the curve a cheek and down a tiny nose, even when his vision blurs.
In the silence of the night, he hears a soft sound and—then the hand is gone, vanished just as quickly as Sasuke's chakra, gone in the brief afterimage of a hand brushing gently against a tiny head—gone almost before Naruto realized the noise had came from him.
Shit, I scared him off, he thinks inanely, wanting to laugh or something worse.
Gone, and Naruto is shaking through the attempt to unstring the tension from his body, the urge to cry out and call him back, shaking until the only sound left is that whimpery little sound because he isn't angry that Sasuke's gone—
No, not angry because Sasuke had shown up in the first place, and that, somehow, makes everything worth it. Even if the father of his son was broken, and so fucked-up and crazy that Naruto wants to scream in frustration or tie the asshole up and hide him in a basement until Naruto could figure out a way to fix it, somehow.
Yeah, fix it, right, as if he'd even let me, he thinks, tired and close enough to sleep to actually feel fond over the thought. He nuzzles down against soft fluffy hair, whispers to the baby. "We saw that, you crazy bastard..."