Crown & Anchor
by Nilladriel

I apologize in advance for the infodumping in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it anyway! And thanks for the reviews, alerts, and favorites, everyone, I really appreciate them.

Chapter Two: Crash

Thursday mornings were always tough, because--

"Oh," Konohamaru said as Naruto walked through the classroom door. "You're not late."

Naruto glanced up at the clock. It was exactly eight. "Hey!" he said. "You're right! Okay, you get to clean up today, then."

Konohamaru's mouth dropped open. "What?"

Naruto dumped a plastic bag onto his table. The contents thunked musically, and Naruto beamed at the class. Some of them straightened in their seats, curious, but most of them knew better by now. Konohamaru's eyes narrowed; it made him look like a wary pig.

"You guys ever seen the Mummy?" Naruto said conversationally as he began to empty the bag out. "Hands up if you haven't."

"Nooooo," Udon said, and sniffled, his slanted eyes huge behind his bug-eye glasses. He raised a hand, or at least an elbow. Slowly, other students followed suit.

For a moment, Naruto looked distraught that half the class had actually raised their hands. Then he sighed, shook his head, and said, "Wow, okay, then. Move over to the right. The rest of you, go stand against the wall at the left, there."

Chairs shrieked at the floors, tables grunted, and, after the students had figured out right from left, the class was divided.

Naruto smiled. "Today," he said, "you guys are going to learn all about body wrapping. Try not to suffocate each other."

Moegi raised a hand, frowning. "Shouldn't we be learning more about modernism?" she asked.

Naruto looked offended. "Whatever. You haven't seen the Mummy," he said, imperiously. "By the way, you're the demonstration dummy. Arms out!"

Moegi stared. The rest of the students shifted, looking suspicious.

"No, seriously, you guys," Naruto said. "It's either this or an essay."

It was kind of sad how easy it was to get them enthusiastic, really. Naruto didn't see how Iruka had such a problem with it.

Moegi and Udon stayed to help Konohamaru clean up. They gathered stray materials and sheets of plastic and stuffed them in a trash bag while Naruto supervised, cup of cheap coffee in hand.

"Thanks, you guys," he said. "Would you mind bringing it to the stora--"

"No," Konohamaru said. "Do it yourself!"

And this was why he hated Thursdays. Konohamaru and early hours just didn't mix, kind of like Sakura and cooking. Naruto dropped his cup into the trash. What had he ever done to deserve a brat student like Konohamaru?

... A lot, sure. But at least he'd never been to jail--

Well, at least he'd never been to jail for more than a few days, anyway.

I should calmly diffuse the situation, Naruto thought. I'm a teacher: I'm the mature one. Pushing him will only make it worse.

"You always this rude to your teachers?" Naruto asked, because pushing Konohamaru was also a lot more entertaining. Besides, no one had ever accused Naruto of being mature.

Konohamaru straightened, bringing himself to his full height of a hundred and fifty centimeters. "Just you," he said. "We're late to class, anyway."

"I'll write you a note," Naruto returned.

"Fine. We just don't want to do it," Konohamaru snapped.

"We don't?" Udon asked.

"Shut up," Konohamaru hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

Naruto slid off the desk. "You know," he said, "I could give you detention, but there's no way in... no way I'm staying after school to baby-sit you. You're cleaning up next class, too."

Konohamaru opened his mouth; Moegi kicked his shin, and Udon dragged him out. Damn. Naruto felt a small flash of guilt. Whatever he punished Konohamaru with, Moegi and Udon were sure to stick with him. He figured he could just tell them to stop, but it was sort of enduring.

Naruto had never had a friend that would stick with him like that, not when he was young. Konohamaru was lucky to have two.

Right. Now, what was the messiest activity he could think of that would need a shit-ton of cleaning up...?

"Ten missed calls from Sakura," Naruto announced to everyone. Since Hinata and Iruka were currently the only other teachers in the lounge, this wasn't a lot. It was the end of the day, and both students and teachers had fled. And Iruka was grading papers like a madman, so Hinata was the only one to look up, smile politely, and say, "That's a lot."

"Yeah," Naruto said. "She's got this date with this guy, probably wants to tell me all about him." He frowned. "You know what? I don't even know why that bastard pisses me off so much. I mean...."

He trailed off.

"Hey, why does Konohamaru hate me so much anyway?"

"He doesn't hate you," Hinata replied immediately, and then frowned, trying to figure out just how many times Naruto had just changed the subject.

Meanwhile, he'd flipped open his cell phone. Just one message from Sakura this time: GOT SMTHING FOR U MEET OUTSIDE

That was good, really. Naruto wasn't all that fond of messages from Sakura; the capital letters always yelled at him.

"Konohamaru's just... energetic," Hinata said. Naruto glanced up at her. Hinata was a new teacher; the night before they met, Neji had called him up and told him to please be her friend, she needed one. Naruto would have befriended Hinata anyway. She was quiet and scared of everything, but she always smiled at him, which was nice.

"He's a brat," Naruto said, glancing back down to his cell phone screen.

"He's well-behaved in my class," Hinata replied, sounding unsure. Naruto, who was willing to guess most guys loved Hinata's class and probably her generous breasts, just grinned. Hinata ducked her head, suddenly concentrating hard on her work.

i knew you loved me, he told Sakura, and snapped his flip phone shut.

"I'm out," he said, standing up.

Iruka looked up suddenly, his expression that of a scarred survivor who'd just fought his way through that special hell known as student essays. His gaze zeroed in on Naruto, whose immediate instinct was to blurt, "I didn't do it."

"What?" Iruka said, and frowned. He waved his right hand, which seemed to have frozen about a red pen. "No, no, say hi to Sakura for me."

"Right," Naruto said, slowly, and left.

It was strange how empty schools always were just minutes after the final bell had rung. Sakura was waiting, as promised, just outside the battered gate. She was in a lacy, rust-colored skirt, and she was wearing more make-up than usual.

"Here," she said, and held out an envelope.

"What? No food?" Naruto said.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "It's from Sasuke," she said. "He told me to give it to you."

Naruto looked down at the envelope. It was a stark, prim white, with no-nonsense edges and corners sharp enough to cut. When he turned it over, he saw his name printed in a careful, almost mechanical hand.

"What's inside?" Naruto asked.

"I didn't open it," Sakura said defensively, which probably meant she just hadn't had time to.

Naruto stuffed the envelope into the side-pocket of his bag, feeling vaguely guilty about wrinkling it.

"By the way, we're going out tomorrow night. Coming?" Sakura asked.

"You and Sasuke?" Naruto asked. "You guys sure are spending a lot of time together all of a sudden."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "We just happened to hit it off really well," she said, and frowned. "Really, why do you dislike him so much? He's so nice. He asks about you a lot, you know."

Naruto mirrored her expression. There was something about that last sentence that really bugged him, but before he could say exactly what, Sakura said, "So, come on, go out with us tomorrow."

Naruto thought fast. "Sorry," he said, "but I'm going to start the advanced class on oils soon so I've got to go order supplies."

"Wouldn't that be faster by phone?" Sakura said, looking surprised.

Naruto had no idea. "Well, okay, I want to pick some stuff up, too," he said. "Maybe I'll join you guys later, though. Where're you thinking of heading?"

"Oh, probably one of the places by the river," she said.

Right. Now Naruto knew which places to avoid. He plastered on a grin. "You're here to give me a ride home, right?" he said.

Sakura laughed and hit him with her purse. "Yeah, yeah. Really, what would you do without me?"

The envelope lay on the kitchen table, glaring at him throughout his healthy dinner of instant ramen.

If it contained a love letter, Naruto was going to shoot himself. Or at least Uchiha. He tapped his chopsticks against the side of the bowl, sighed, and abruptly stood up. He had lessons to plan... and, right, he still needed to think up something really messy for Konohamaru.

He glanced back at the envelope.

I'm not a coward, he thought to himself. It's a fucking envelope, Uzumaki. What the hell do you think's inside? A bomb?

He snatched it from the table and retreated to his bedroom. He didn't bother turning on the light, because it flickered and whined. Instead, he shoved back bright orange curtains to let in as much of the artificial street-light in as possible, and then settled onto the bed.

Even after being stuffed into his bag pocket, the enveloped looked prissily pristine. He ripped it open viciously.

It was a packet of photographs.

They were pictures of the old house, back when he'd still lived with his Dad. He recognized the forest that had invaded their backyard, the battered car up front that coughed and wheezed every time they took it to town.

In photos, his Dad was always serious. He hadn't been home a lot, so Naruto had grown up a fiercely independent kid. He didn't remember being lonely, though. Maybe his Dad had been there just enough--

Naruto reached the fourth photo and paused.

It was a good picture--his Dad sitting on the hood of the car, so that it squatted because of the weight. Naruto in his lap, distracted as a cat with a butterfly. They had the same blue eyes and were dressed nearly identical, black shirt and jeans, except that Naruto was barefoot, and his toes stuck out like neon pink bulbs.

It wasn't that strange a picture; it might have fit right in with the album Naruto kept under his bed, for when he missed his Dad.

Except that Naruto had never seen it before.

And, seated primly in front of the car, was Uchiha Sasuke. He was the only one staring straight at the camera. His hair was slightly less wild--less product in it, maybe--but the eyes were the same, dark and terrifyingly focused.

There were more--he and his Dad in the kitchen, cooking or at least setting some poor, innocent chicken on fire, and then Uchiha, off to the side but definitely there.

The garden, on the swings, his Dad behind both of them.

The car again, Naruto looking earnestly at his Dad, one hand clutching his shirt, the other holding Uchiha's wrist.

In all of them, Uchiha was always staring directly at the camera with that frighteningly intense expression, like behind them twin fires were burning. Slowly, Naruto put the photos aside. That was when he noticed the very last photograph, except it wasn't a photo at all--a copy, Naruto realized, printed on cheap printer paper folded twice over.

It was just him and Uchiha this time, his Dad nowhere in sight, which unsettled him. All of his pictures had Dad in them, so this one... just didn't seem right. They were sitting in the garden, chubby hands linked, dirt on their skin and clothes. Naruto was laughing, and Uchiha was watching him.

Underneath, in that ridiculously neat handwriting, Uchiha had written, Just one date. You don't remember this either, but you promised.

"Fuck you," Naruto said. He crunched the paper up into a ball and threw it into the trashcan by the bathroom door.

The others, though, he neatly tied up and inserted just inside the cover of his photo album. His Dad was in them. That meant a lot.

And that should have been the end of that, except that it wasn't.

It was all Uchiha's fault, of course. Naruto couldn't stop thinking about the photos.

Naruto's own collection, with the baby-blue cover and softened corners, was a gift from old man Sarutobi.

When they first met, Naruto had called Sarutobi a fucking old bastard. Screamed it, really. Later he modified it to just old man. It stuck.

As long as they didn't interact, they got along. Sarutobi didn't mind the rude names, the swearing, or Naruto's general attitude, but he'd disliked Naruto's Dad--enough to make sure Naruto only kept on a bare amount of the things they'd owned together. Naruto still didn't know where Sarutobi had stored the rest of his and his Dad's belongings, or if he'd even kept them at all.

And then he'd stopped Naruto from attending his own Dad's funeral.

The memory still burned. He remembered being twelve, dressed in a too-neat, ironed shirt and proper slacks, and Sarutobi looking pained, saying: "There are some people you should never meet, Naruto, and many of them will be at your father's funeral."

Naruto had yelled and screamed. Broken out of the house and landed on shattered glass. Security caught him. He'd tried four more times and similarly failed, until he knew the funeral was over, he couldn't go, he'd missed his own Dad's funeral and he'd hated Sarutobi for it.

Just two weeks later, Naruto was sent away to private boarding school. He'd immediately made friends with everyone at the bottom of the barrel: Sakura, the scholarship student; Neji, the bastard Hyuuga child; and Kiba, the son of criminals. And, later, even Gaara, at least until he'd been convicted of manslaughter.

The photo album had been an apology. It'd arrived the day he graduated, wrapped in cheap brown paper. Naruto had cried when he'd seen the photos, because he didn't remember much about his Dad. Didn't remember anything, really, not anymore.

There'd been a phone number written carefully on the last page. Naruto had ripped it out, but he'd kept the album.

He'd kept the album and always, always, always wanted more. More photos, more memories, more anything.

And there was a way to get it all, now. All Naruto had to do was ask.

But he didn't want to, because Uchiha didn't belong. Uchiha didn't belong in Naruto's past, in Naruto-before-twelve, in Naruto-and-Dad, even if the photos said he did. Because Naruto didn't remember him, didn't know him at all, and that--

--that meant other things as well, about what Naruto knew about his past, about his Dad, and he couldn't--

"I can't do this," Naruto said, and dropped the marker. "You know what? I can't do this."

He looked out at the class. There were only five minutes left to fill, anyway.

And then, after that, three more shortened blocks to fill, because they liked cramming everything in on Fridays.

He dismissed the class, went to his desk and shoved thick books about art history aside. When Konohamaru's damned class filtered in minutes later, they found him still there, head cradled in his arms.

For once, Konohamaru's voice was normal, not snotty and annoying, when he said, "Mr. Uzumaki? Are you okay?"

Fuck you, Naruto thought, and then, Wait, no, that's not right.

"I need a drink," Naruto said, maybe in reply.

No, no. He needed to--do something.

Yeah. Okay. A plan--or at least an idea--was forming in his mind. Naruto sat up, slowly.

He looked at Konohamaru. "Your last name's Sarutobi. Please tell me your grandfather's the Prof. You know? Old man, smokes more than an addict? Give me his number."

Konohamaru's expression immediately soured. His features scrunched together, all heading toward his pug-like nose. "What--"

"Just give it, Konohamaru, and you've got a get-out-of-jail-free card for the rest of the month."

"Fuc--awghMOEGI," Konohamaru said, when Moegi stamped on his foot. He grit his teeth, though, and pulled his cell phone out. Naruto grinned at him.

"Thanks," he said, and meant it.

Saturday night, Naruto finally worked up the nerve to call Sarutobi. He sat on the wobbly chair, shifting back and forth so he could thud out a rhythm with the chair legs. A pile of dirty dishes glared accusingly at him while he waited for Sarutobi to pick up.

"Good evening. Sarutobi speaking."

Naruto stilled, swallowing. It's just Sarutobi, he reminded himself.

Still, he couldn't help the twisty feeling in his gut, like a hangover that had migrated from head to stomach. "Hey, old man," he said quietly.

"Naruto?" Sarutobi said, voice suddenly a lot quieter.

"Yeah. Um, surprise." Naruto grinned weakly.

"How have you been?" Sarutobi said.

"Fine!" Naruto replied quickly. "Listen, I need a favor."

"You haven't called in a long while, Naruto," Sarutobi admonished. What he meant was, You've never called me before, Naruto.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. But, listen, do you know that album you gave me? There're more photos than that, right? Could you send them over?"

At first, Sarutobi didn't answer. Naruto curled his free hand into a fist and took careful, deep breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don't get angry--don't get scared.

"If I did have them, I would gladly send them to you," Sarutobi finally answered, voice carefully regretful. "I'll double-check for you, of course, but I don't remember them at all. Naruto, you--"

"That's fine," Naruto interrupted. "Hey, just call me if you find them, okay? Thanks anyway."

He snapped the phone shut and dropped it on the table like a hot snake.

Well, at least he'd tried. Okay, so he always told his students effort was nice but it didn't get you good marks. Whatever. He wasn't playing for grades, so he was going to go ahead and award himself bonus points. And ramen. Definitely ramen.

And after that....

Well, he'd already started off his weekened doing something stupid. Might as well fill it with more stupid shit.

"It was... it was dog shit. That's what it was. Dog. Shit."

Kiba emphasized the last word by slamming his mug onto the bar and getting his fingers caught. Then he squealed and jumped back, sucking beer from his fingers and glaring at the mug like it'd slept with his girlfriend and gotten her pregnant.

Naruto squinted at him. "I thought you liked dogs," he said.

"Love them," Kiba said, forgiving the mug enough to turn and gift Naruto with a drunken grin. "Love them, I tell you, but it was--"

"Dog shit, yeah, sure. Does Hinata know you love dogs, Kiba?"

"Huh?" Kiba frowned. "'Course she does, she loves Akamaru s'almost as much as me. No, no, as much as."

"So that's what they mean when they say doggy-style, huh," Naruto said, and grinned, but of course Kiba missed the joke. Fucking lightweight. It was weird. He always swore he'd never go drinking with Kiba again, because Kiba got drunk faster than Sakura got mad, but come next week and they were back at the bar and Naruto was stuck waiting for his mind to get as fucked as Kiba's so he wouldn't be so bored.

"You know," Kiba said, suddenly, "you ever thought the moon was lonely? Shit, she's damn lonely. Like people. People are lonely."

And he wouldn't be stuck listening to Kiba's existentialist shit.

"You need to get laid," Naruto said. He almost added, tell Hinata to put out more, but Hinata was so damned nice that insulting her felt like kicking a baby in the face and then laughing, even if she wasn't actually there. Besides, she'd covered for him on Tuesday, he owed her. Maybe he'd buy her a bra again. It was fun watching her blush. And it was funny when Kiba tried to beat him up for it and got his ass kicked instead.

Naruto smirked into his drink. Right. That was why he liked hanging out with Kiba. So what if the guy was some hot-shot consultant for his family's company? So what if he was loaded? Naruto was still cooler, dammit.

"Kiba!"

It was Sakura. Naruto grinned, straightening, and whirled around on his stool. His drink sloshed dangerously.

He began to raise a hand. "Saku--oh holy shit what the fuck is he doing here."

Kiba broke off to stare at him. "Naruto?"

"I'm not here," Naruto told Kiba.

"Is it the guy?" Kiba asked, showing surprising insight. "Okay, go on, hide." Naruto looked at him gratefully.

"Yeah," he said, and rose in his seat.

"Guess you would be kind of pissed that he's a lot prettier," Kiba mused.

Okay, or maybe Kiba was still drunk. Naruto shoved him off the stool and then fled to the bathroom, and then out again when the woman in there, one finger hooked under her bra-strap, screamed at him. Wrong one. Right.

He looked to his right, made sure it was a picture of a guy on the door, and ducked in. The thick smell of cigarette smoke and piss hit him, and Naruto wrinkled his nose. There was some guy passed out against the last stall, a cigarette still hanging off his fingers and what looked like a bottle lying next to him.

Because Naruto was nice, he made sure the guy was just sleeping, not dead. Then he stole his wine and escaped into a stall, locking it behind him and then shoving the seat cover down so he could sit on it. And to block out the smell, because someone had forgotten to flush.

Naruto tried the handle, but it was jammed, and his nose wrinkled. Okay, or someone couldn't flush.

Naruto nursed his stolen bottle, which still had a good bit left in it, and realized maybe he was more drunk than he thought. Otherwise he'd have fled outside, not into some shitty bathroom. Anyway, chances were Uchiha had already seen him and his subsequent escape, because, hello, bright orange shirt.

It was his favorite, but for a few seconds Naruto entertained a brief flash of hated. Mild hatred, though, because orange was a cool color.

Anyway, his nose was getting used to the smell already.

The bathroom door opened. Naruto froze. When he heard whistling, though, he relaxed. No way was Uchiha the kind of guy to whistle. Unless Sakura had already gotten him shitfaced, in which case, damn, was he proud of his best friend.

Naruto's head lolled back. Here I am, he thought, sitting on a toilet with shit still stuck in it so that some creepy stalker guy won't harass me. A creepy stalker guy who's convinced he's in love with me, even though he's on a date with Sakura. Wait, maybe that's why he's still in love with me. Sakura. She's way too scary to be enough of a temptation, even if she is nice.

Fuck. Why was Hinata dating Kiba, again?

Oh, right. Kiba was a filthy-rich consultant.

Already bored of the bathroom, Naruto was about to brave the outside world again--or at least the bit of it that didn't include Uchiha--when the door opened again. He stilled, feet suspended above the ground.

There was a snorting sound, the kind someone would probably make when seeing a passed-out drunk sleeping in the bathroom with a cig still in hand. Naruto heard squelching footsteps as the person walked up and down the bathroom.

Naruto looked through the gap under the door. The shoes looked expensive.

Dammit.

"I saw you come in here," Uchiha's disembodied voice said.

Naruto tipped his head back and swallowed all the drink left in the bottle. It hit him like a flying brick wall hit... hit another flying brick wall, maybe, because they were drunk or high or something and, and, good, he'd gotten the lock and the door was opening.

"What else was I supposed to do?" he muttered defensively. He crossed his arms, leaned against the stall, and glared.

Something landed on his foot, and Naruto jumped, looking down. The guy was shifting, waking up. His hand had hit Naruto's shoe and what was hopefully a puddle of water.

"Okay, I'm not having this conversation in here." Naruto frowned. "Whatever this conversation is. Or any conversation. I do a lot of stupid shit when I'm drunk--"

"Like promising people blowjobs?" Uchiha said, and something in his voice made Naruto swallow.

"Right, like that." He spent a few moments reminiscing about highschool and Neji, and then said, "I ain't promising you anything, jackass. Seriously, bye."

Uchiha grabbed his wrist. His hand was warm, warm enough to run lightning through it.

Naruto's breath hitched. He turned towards Uchiha, staring into his deep, dark eyes, which were looking through him, maybe.

Then his fist flew forward. It was a good punch. Uchiha slammed backwards, head snapping back, and landed in what was, on reflection, probably not a puddle of water. Naruto stepped out of the bathroom. He felt like he was on fire.

He found Sakura seated next to Kiba. "I thought you hated heels," he said, momentarily distracted from his anger.

"Oh, these are Ino's," Sakura said, and stuck a leg out to show them off. Naruto did, and her legs, too.

Sakura raised her purse threateningly, but somehow Naruto couldn't find it in himself to laugh.

"Where did Sasuke go?" she asked.

"Uchiha's... pissing, probably," Naruto said. Or pissed off, he thought but didn't say.

Kiba frowned. "Sasuke?" he said, slowly. "Wait--Uchiha? Uchiha Sasuke?"

"Yeah. Come on, you guys. We're leaving," Naruto said. "Oi, Kiba, pay up."

He grabbed Sakura and Kiba's wrists as soon as Kiba had pushed the last of the bills over the counter, not bothering to wait for change. It wasn't like Kiba couldn't afford it.

Sakura stumbled slightly, not used to the heels. They were outside, now, and the cold hit Naruto like... well, like the flying brick walls he'd thought of earlier, he supposed. He winced. There was a BMW nearby--Uchiha's, probably. Where the hell was his car?

"Naruto," Sakura said, and her voice was getting louder the way it did when she was preparing for a good, long screaming session.

"I just punched Uchiha," Naruto told her flat-out. The car was on the far side of the parking lot. He just needed his keys....

Sakura whipped her hand back. "What," she said.

"He deserved it!" Naruto said defensively.

"Naruto, what--"

Kiba was straightening, though, and his eyes were wide. "Uchiha Sasuke?" Then he looked up and said, "Holy shit, it really is--"

Naruto moved fast enough to dodge the blow to his face. Ha! he thought, and then Uchiha got him in the gut.

Fuck, he thought, and crumpled. He brought an arm up to stop getting a faceful of Uchiha's jean-clad knee, and then gave in to the pain and collapsed properly onto the ground.

Five inches from his eyes were Sakura's borrowed heels, except they weren't heels at all. More like three-inch steel pikes, Naruto realized dazedly, and then they were gone from his vision when Sakura raised the right with terrifying expertise and--

--sunk it into Uchiha's thigh.

"Oh fuck," said Naruto from the ground. Uchiha collasped next to him. He didn't scream, but his face contorted and he was clutching his leg.

"Okay, we're leaving, now," Naruto said, scrambling up.

"I didn't mean to do that!" Sakura screamed at Uchiha as the three of them ran to the car. "But you deserved it!"

"I knew he was a pansy-ass," Kiba said.

Naruto and Sakura turned as one to stare at Kiba.

"What?" Naruto said.

"Get in the car," Sakura said. She was much more practical, even if there was blood stuck to her shoe.

Naruto glanced behind. Uchiha had managed to stand up, even if he was hunched-over like Quasimodo. And then he was a fast-distant figure as Sakura peeled out of the parking lot with the ease of someone who has been Naruto's best friend for more than a decade and subsequently knows perfectly well exactly how to get the fuck out as fast as possible.