Crown & Anchor
by Nilladriel

Sorry for the wait! But stuff interfered. Like graduation. (That's right! I'm free of high school now.) Hopefully this chapter satisfies. I feel really rusty, though my dear beta says I'm not, haha.

Chapter Nine: Bet Exchange

Naruto departed for Wave on December 17. It meant an entire day of driving in icy conditions, with frequent paranoid glances at his heater. The car had been making noises at him all month and he kept having visions of it dying, leaving him stranded and fair prey to ghosts or monsters, or at least extreme cold and boredom.

He explained this in a very detailed text to Kiba at one of the rest stations; Kiba told him to lay off the bad movies, already.

When he finally arrived, it was night, and his stomach was telling him the dried squid and chips he'd eaten weren't adequate as dinner. Unfortunately, Naruto didn't have any concrete memories of the city he'd technically grown up in. This meant nearly an hour of driving fruitlessly around in the dead of night while the maps he consulted promised he'd hit a hotel soon, just turn left and then right and keep going straight and, no, shit, he'd missed a turn, maybe if he went down that way instead--

He was about to give up when his car rounded a bend and he realized, with a start, that he recognized the road.

Naruto stopped the car.

The view was different, of course, because he wasn't looking down at it from a two-story window. Despite the different angle, though, he recognized it all the same. To the right was a long stretch of green, sinking down into a stream that curled around a tree.

Opposite it was the familiar mansion, with its square architecture and stocky walls.

Maybe he remembered the city better than he thought.

Naruto studied Sarutobi's house with shadowed, heavy-lidded eyes. Then he backed out of the street. He'd rather stay at a hotel.

Now that he'd finally placed himself, it was easier to backtrack. There was the park he normally went to during holidays; the line of shops jutting out from the village, where he'd watched school children buy candy after school and never quite worked up the courage to join them.

There, at the corner, was the world's cheapest hotel, starting at the very reasonable price of just twenty per night, breekfast included!!!

Naruto eyed the three red exclamation marks with trepidation. "No thanks," he said. "And you misspelled breakfast."

Three blocks away, and five seconds from giving in and staying at the world's cheapest hotel, he found the Red Prawn, which was fronted by a peeling sign and a fountain with gray-green coins at the bottom instead of water. In the lobby, a tacky red carpet ran all the way to the front desk, maybe so visitors could pretend they were celebrities.

Above the front desk hung a gigantic, plastic prawn.

It was probably the prawn that convinced him. Naruto leaned over the counter and found his best smile. "How much for a room?"

Thirty minutes later he was unpacking, or at least pawing through his bag looking for a change of clothes. Ideally, he'd have food before the shower, but the shower was closer. He slung a towel around his neck--Sakura's recent birthday gift--and turned, which was of course when the phone rang.

"Aw, fuck," Naruto sighed, and went to dig through the pants he'd left crumpled on the floor. He ended up having to reverse all the pockets; meanwhile, the phone rang, and rang, and rang. The ringtone wasn't one he'd assigned to his closest.

Naruto got to the phone just as the ringing stopped. He frowned and flipped it open, and then he said, "Shit," when he saw the name displayed.

Sasuke hadn't contacted him at all since their confrontation. Why start now?

Naruto hesitated. He was tired, hungry, and cranky. He pressed the green call button anyway and sat cross-legged on the floor.

Sasuke picked up immediately. "Naruto!"

He was louder than Naruto remembered. "Please tell me there's a good reason you called."

"Where are you?"

"... What?" Naruto said, intelligently. "Why do you care?"

"Just tell me," Sasuke said. Even through the phone, Naruto could hear Sasuke's worry, heavy like weights.

"Uh, no," Naruto said, but he didn't quite manage the brattish tone.

"Naruto," Sasuke snapped, and then: "are you really in Wave?"

"And you say you're not a stalker," Naruto said.

"Shit!"

Naruto moved the phone from his ear so he could stare at it properly. All it told him was that he was talking to U Sasuke, and that the conversation had lasted for twenty seconds.

He switched the phone to his left hand, so he could occupy his right with massaging the confusion away at his temples. "Right. Are you trying to be mysterious again? Remember how shittily that worked last time?"

"You need to come back," Sasuke said, plainly ignoring him.

Fine. Naruto could be stubborn, too. "No," he said.

"Naruto, you don't understand--"

"The last time I tried to understand, you ass, you basically slammed the door in my face," Naruto said. And then he hung up, because it felt good to have the last word.

"I'm staying in a hotel with a giant fucking plastic prawn hanging in reception. I cannot tell you how amazing this is," Naruto said. He was sprawled on the bed, like Akamaru after one of his baths and trying to get everything dog-fur wet. Above him, the fan creaked laboriously.

"It's eight," Sakura said, "in the morning. I'm hanging up."

"Huh? Then why'd you pick up?" Naruto asked.

"Because it's eight in the morning, and you called," Sakura said. The rest of her explanation was mangled by a yawn, although Naruto caught the words emergency and idiot just fine.

"Oh," Naruto said, and pouted.

"Really," Sakura said, in a tone that might have been called fond if she were anyone other than Sakura. "Why are you calling so early?"

"Um," Naruto said. "Because I promised I'd call you every day? And I'm seeing Sarutobi later today."

"Weren't you two estranged?" Sakura yawned again. "You could have asked me to come along, silly."

He could have. Instead, he'd gone with her as she did last-minute shopping, picking out presents for her parents and then wrapping them for her in the floor of her living-room while she admired the way he mercilessly beat the ribbons into pleasing shapes. Afterwards he'd given her a ride to the airport and given her a hug.

"You having a good time with your parents?" he asked instead.

"Yes," Sakura said. "It's good to be back, you know?"

Naruto laughed. "Yeah. So what're you doing today?"

"Going back to sleep," Sakura said. "And then I'm going with Mom and Dad to the hospital, see how things are going there."

Her tone was so wistful. She'd wanted to be a doctor once, Naruto remembered.

"Anyway. Good luck with Sarutobi. Tell me how it goes after." Another yawn. "Good night, Naruto. Morning. Whatever."

"Hah. Thanks," Naruto said. "Bye."

He shut the phone and stared out the window. Even poets would have struggled to describe the day, which seemed determined to be as gloomy and desaturated as possible. Even the sunlight was gray.

He was already dressed, because he'd gotten up at four, itchy and feeling the need to run, or to jump in the car and drive... although to where, he wasn't sure. He'd already taken three showers and brushed his teeth seven times. He'd never felt so clean in his life, and his teeth hurt.

He hadn't eaten breakfast.

Reluctantly, he went outside and took the three stairs down to ground floor at as slow a pace as he could manage. Empty of luggage, his car felt bigger and less clogged up. Naruto didn't.

He got in, put on his seatbelt, and set his hands on the steering wheel. He didn't remember the drive.

In the daylight, Sarutobi's home didn't look as damn ugly. Naruto drove to the gate and rolled down the window of the car. He didn't recognize the woman in the guardhouse, but he recognized her expression. It was the eternally suspicious look of security officers everywhere.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto and I'm here to visit the old man... to visit Sarutobi Hiruzen. I didn't call ahead and he doesn't know I'm coming or that I'm here. Before you ask."

He flashed a smile, which just made her glare harder. "Please wait," she said, and stepped back into the guardhouse, where he conveniently couldn't hear what she was saying as she contacted the main house.

There was a hidden camera just to the right, if Naruto remembered right. He amused himself with making faces at it while he waited.

The guard emerged eventually, looking even more suspicious, her hand twitching like it might go for her gun. Naruto tensed until she said, "Go ahead, Mr. Uzumaki," and the gate rolled open slowly, like it was as suspicious of him as the guard was.

Naruto took a deep breath. "Thanks," he said. He didn't actually go forward, not until the guard made an impatient sound. Remembering her gun, he drove. He watched the main house get closer, and swallowed. To the right and up, he recognized the window he'd jumped out of. The memory sat hotly in his stomach, and Naruto clenched his jaw as he parked in front of the entrance. It took him three tries to lock his car properly.

The door opened before he had a chance to knock, revealing a familiar messy-haired woman in a jacket, armed with both weapons and a slicing tongue.

Naruto tried a grin and mostly succeeded. "Anko! What a surprise! Still working here, huh?"

Anko was heavier than he remembered. It was all new muscle, though, packed on slowly throughout a decade. They were the same height, and she probably weighed less, but when she smiled and crossed her arms she became a better block for the door than a brick wall would have.

"Why the hell are you here, Naruto?" she said.

"To see the old man," Naruto said. It was possible to lie to Anko, but it was better not to.

"You said that," Anko said. "Why?"

"Because we haven't seen each other in forever?" Naruto said, like he was throwing darts at a board blind. "Because I have some stuff I want to ask him? Because I told Konohamaru I would?"

Anko licked her lips slowly. "Fuck! Fine. Come in." She shook her head.

Naruto nodded and stepped through. Anko closed the heavy doors shut behind him and slid the locks into place with more ceremony and drama than strictly needed.

"This way," Anko said.

"Wait, whoah, hold on," Naruto said. "Don't tell me the old man's free?"

Anko turned around and managed to look down at him, reducing Naruto to an intimidated twelve-year-old with a single glance. "No," she said. "But he's making time for you anyway. Now move."

Cowed, Naruto followed Anko through the mansion. It hadn't changed much. The numerous paintings, the very ones that had first invited Naruto to explore the world of art, were the same. Naruto smiled as he passed them by, resisting the urge to stop and touch like he'd done as a kid.

They didn't go to Sarutobi's study, which was good, because Naruto probably would have pissed his pants. Instead, Anko took him to the second drawing room. In theory, it was more informal.

Anko opened the door for him. "Good luck, kid," she said. She looked grim. Naruto remembered being twelve, and really not intimidated, just in a lot of pain, while Anko knelt in front of him and picked shards of glass out of his skin. She'd told him to be smarter about it next time he jumped out of windows.

"Thanks," he said.

Anko gave him a real smile, one that didn't remind Naruto of snakes. "Sure," she said, and left. Naruto listened to the thuds of her heavy boots against the wooden floor. Then he entered the room, closing the door behind him securely before looking up.

Talking to Sarutobi on the phone had been bad. Just seeing him in person was worse. Naruto shoved his hands into his pockets so he could pretend they weren't shaking and slowly approached.

The old man was sitting on the couch, having a smoke. He was dressed in white, except for the ridiculous red cravat at his neck, like he'd stepped right out of Naruto's too-crisp memories. He sat in his arm-chair the same way he sat in his study: as if it were a throne of power.

"Naruto," he said, warmly. "Welcome home."

"Hey," Naruto said. He crossed the room and sat down. "Uh. Sorry for dropping by without notice."

"You are always welcome here, Naruto," Sarutobi corrected him. He indicated the table between them. There was a tray, with a jug and two cups, but the tray lined Naruto's side of the table, not Sarutobi's. "Drink?"

Naruto caught himself shaking his head, and stopped. "Sure." He poured awkwardly, and was quiet as he watched the steam rise from the cup.

He said, "So," which was a good start, sort of like pressing down on the accelerator and not moving at all once the race began.

Sarutobi, decades older and a hell of a lot more experienced in small-talk, said, "How have you been?"

"Good. I mean... yeah, good," Naruto said. He took a sip. It was hot chocolate, sweet on his tongue. It wasn't Neji's tea, but it was good enough that Naruto downed the cup and then poured himself another. "Teaching is... nice."

Sarutobi smiled at him. It transformed his face into a grandfather's. "I'm glad."

"Did you know...." His voice cracked. Naruto cleared his throat and tried again. "Did you know your grandson's at the school I teach at?"

"Konohamaru?" Sarutobi looked proud just mentioning the brat's name. "Yes. It's a very reputable school."

"Yeah," Naruto said. I want to turn the art program there around, he thought hard at Sarutobi, like it might replace actual conversation. I'm new now but in a decade things will change. You'll see.

Naruto looked down at his cup. He wasn't relaxing, but he'd fooled himself enough that he had that he didn't think much of saying, "I bet you're wondering why I'm here, huh."

Sarutobi leaned back, frowning slightly but still somehow holding on to his smile. "Well, yes. But, Naruto," he said, "what's important is that you visited. It means a lot."

Naruto nodded, studying the old man's face. It was the same, from the deep-set wrinkles to the downturned nose, but more tired. "I wanted to ask about my Dad," he admitted, leaving Konohamaru's request for the moment. It was probably bad manners, barging into someone's home and then demanding to know what was wrong like an entitled therapist.

Naruto wasn't into politeness, but this was Sarutobi.

He watched the old man's expression change, from same-old to different. Guarded and angry, those thin shoulders stiffening under the suit, and Naruto felt himself tense as well. He took another sip of the hot chocolate and felt the heat rush down his throat.

"Look. I know you have reservations. But I have a right to know. He's my Dad," Naruto started, ready to fight.

"Did something happen?" the old man asked instead.

"What?" Naruto said.

"There must have been a catalyst," Sarutobi said, "to your recent phone calls and this sudden visit."

"Not really," Naruto said, and then wondered why he was being so defensive. "I'd always wondered. I just didn't think to ask until now."

"Naruto," Sarutobi said, and sighed.

Naruto felt his fingers twitch. His gaze fell on the old man's red cravat, and he winced, looking away. In the silence, which held the prickly, uncertain air of a PT conference, he took the time to study the drawing room. Like the rest of the mansion, it hadn't changed, either, except the years had transformed decadence into tacky style, like a dated magazine that was trying too hard. Too much floral pattern. Sakura would probably like it, though.

With nothing but hot chocolate in his stomach, he was beginning to feel strangely sleepy. It's probably the lack of sleep and food, he thought, and was startled when the old man suddenly snapped, "Naruto!"

He jumped to alertness, said, "Yeah?" and then faded back.

"Naruto," the old man started, and then said instead: "Naruto. Did you eat today?"

"Skipped breakfast," Naruto replied automatically. "And had a shit dinner last night." He shook his head. "I'm okay, really. I'm just tired. I didn't sleep much last night."

The old man looked alarmed, not appeased... until his face shifted, and he leaned forward, wisps of smoke escaping from between his lips. "I'll send for food shortly, then," he suggested. "Now, Naruto, I would like you to be more honest with me."

Naruto stared blankly, and felt himself drawing back.

While he was driving her to the airport, Sakura actually hadn't looked too enthused. When Naruto asked her why, she said it was because as much as she loved her parents, visiting them meant a break from being Haruno Sakura the independent, self-reliant woman. It meant being just little Sakura again, who'd cried when she didn't get perfect scores on her tests and mowed the lawn for extra money. "Like jumping into a time-travel machine," Sakura said. "They even keep my room the same. All my old posters of idols are still up, you know?"

Naruto had scarcely been back fifteen minutes and he already understood what Sakura meant. Once or twice, Sarutobi had had to visit the school personally to settle affairs; or Naruto would pull pranks during the holidays. Afterwards, he'd always sit Naruto down and give him that look, one that radiated disappointment about as subtly as the afternoon sun.

Naruto stared hard at the expectant, faded eyebrows, the pipe in Sarutobi's mouth, and tried to think through his sudden exhaustion. "Honest about what?" he said, playing the exact same card Sasuke had, two months earlier: What do I have to lie about?

Sarutobi played better. "I want to know why you're really visiting me, Naruto," he said, not harshly.

Naruto reached for more hot chocolate. The old man began to say, "Naruto, you shouldn't," and then stopped, brows furrowed, which made no sense. It was just hot chocolate.

"It's no big deal," Naruto said, which was the right thing to say, and then: "It was just some guy," which wasn't. Especially since Sasuke wasn't really "just some guy." He was... Sasuke, and confusing and frustrating and stupid, and... Sarutobi was saying something.

"Sorry, what was that?" Naruto asked.

Sarutobi sighed, looking vaguely concerned, and summarized his words into a simple, "Who was this 'guy,' Naruto?"

Naruto remained absolutely silent until the old man's expression, still eyebrows and all, really got to him. "He just said we knew each other." He had to concentrate on his own words, and he knew old man Sarutobi didn't like what he was hearing, especially when he straightened and folded his arms.

"Naruto. I want you to be honest." Sarutobi made sure Naruto was looking at him before he went on: "Please. Was this man Uchiha Sasuke?"

Naruto dropped his eyes and said, "Yes," and felt as if he shouldn't have.

Sarutobi's lips thinned, like he was trying to make his own mouth disappear. "I see."

Naruto felt like asking something stupid, like, is that bad? but obviously it was. He slouched some more, letting the embroidered cushions swallow him.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

The old man looked startled. "It's not your fault. You wouldn't have known."

"Because you tell me jack shit," Naruto muttered. At the old man's disapproving look, he straightened, trying to assert himself, but his body wouldn't cooperate and the cushions were too comfy anyway. "Tell me," he said, and hated how it came out like a whine.

"You won't want to hear it," Sarutobi said.

"I do," Naruto said.

"Uchiha Sasuke is dangerous. His family...." Sarutobi trailed off. "Your father's unfortunate death--"

"That was," Naruto said, and then a shudder swept through him and something inside him said, NO, and he shut up.

"I'm sorry," Sarutobi said, as if that would ever make up for--

"Orochimaru," Naruto said, neatly interrupting his own thoughts.

Sarutobi looked even more alarmed at that. "What do you mean?"

Naruto hesitated. Something else he shouldn't have said. But Sarutobi looked concerned, and he was only an old man, really, and the hot chocolate had been good and he couldn't bring himself to feel too alarmed. "Sasuke was talking to him. On the phone. He... Orochimaru sent men to follow me. Only for one day," he added hastily.

Sarutobi didn't answer, not at first. He seemed to be deliberating and even poured some drink for himself, when he usually never consumed what he set out for Naruto, probably because he didn't like the taste.

"You should stay," Sarutobi said firmly.

Naruto blinked. "I have a hotel room."

The old man frowned. He put his arms on the chair, straightening slightly, and levelled Naruto with a somber look. "I'll be blunt. I'm concerned for your safety. The security here could protect you."

Yeah. Security here was good. Naruto'd gotten caught on camera every time he'd tried to escape, before.

"Something happened," he said, not to the old man but to his feet. "Something must've, to get you all paranoid like this."

"I can't explain to you right now," the old man said.

"Bullshit," Naruto said. He looked up and said again, "Bullshit." But the anger wasn't rising. It was there, coiled and heated, but it wasn't running through him. He was just sitting, on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate he couldn't bring himself to finish.

"And it would make me happy if you stayed," Sarutobi added. "Can't an old man have the people he loves close by?"

Naruto closed his eyes, and knew right away that he was caving. "Fine," he said. "I'm only staying for a while, anyway."

Sarutobi smiled, self-satisfied. "Thank you, Naruto," he said. His voice was self-satisfied too.

"I'm tired," Naruto whispered. When had his eyes closed?

"I know," the old man said. "You've had a lot to drink." He rose. Naruto heard careful, shuffling footsteps, and a low conversation. He recognized Anko's angry footsteps even through the sleepy haze.

"Oi. Come on, kiddo," someone said. It was Anko, grabbing his arm with all the care for a rag doll. "Get up. We're going to your room."

"Okay," Naruto said, obediently, and rose, almost dropping his cup in the process.