A/N: these characters belong to Kishimoto (and Sasha who belongs to whoever wrote Attack on Titan)

My chapter was way too long, so it's been divided into two. I feel like 5k word chapters are going okay?

October 31, Present Day

Going to therapy was an activity aptly suited for Halloween. As far as Kakashi was concerned, it was about as terrifying as watching a horror movie. Quite possibly worse.

In proper holiday spirit, Kakashi had been haunting himself with something Sasuke had said a week and a half ago.

Maybe when I'm in my 30s, I can look forward to being as emotionally evolved as you.

Initially, Kakashi had brushed the comment off. He was used the mean, sullen attitudes of teenagers. He knew Sasuke was bitter because he thought Kakashi had taken him in out of some obligate martyrdom. When he considered the comment later, though, something about it cut deeper than it should have.

He had been trying to help Sasuke deal with his grief. As his foster parent, he felt he was responsible for ensuring Sasuke cared for his mental health and dealt with some of the tragedies in his life. Kakashi had assumed he would be a good mentor because he had struggled with grief as a teen (and adult) too.

But Sasuke's jibe was accurate, and Kakashi realized he had no business helping anyone cope with anything remotely emotional. He was actually a terrible example— why offer guidance in an area he had failed entirely in?

Ignoring his problems was his specialty. Sure, he hadn't succumbed to some of the worst outcomes of trauma. He didn't cope excessively with alcohol or drugs. Perhaps he was a bit of a philanderer in his 20s, but he wasn't sure that that had truly been a coping mechanism…

He had thought that being a cop would be a fulfilling way to ease some of the pain of his past and make him feel like he was helping people. That was a joke. Being a cop led to even more tragedy, and it had been utterly thankless. Almost as thankless as his current job of being a teacher. God, maybe he was a martyr.

For the most part, though, Kakashi thought he was a pretty functional human. When he was stressed, he went to the gym and worked himself to exhaustion. Other times he'd read until he fell asleep. One of his guiltiest pleasures was watching reality TV on Netflix.

Still, even though he distracted himself from his thoughts in healthy enough ways, he'd never really dealt with anything that had happened to him. He was quite aware that he avoided emotional attachments as if they were covered in deadly flesh-eating bacteria.

In the recesses of his mind, he knew he avoided relationships to avoid loss. If he didn't love anyone, he couldn't feel the heart-wrenching pain of losing another person special to him.

He watched Sasuke do the same. He reluctantly made friends, but he didn't seem to want to get too close. Kakashi understood many ways trauma could isolate a person from his peers. So how could he possibly expect Sasuke to listen to him about making the healthiest choices when Kakashi hadn't made them himself?

He couldn't. Kakashi realized that if he wanted what was best for Sasuke, he would need to lead by example. This epiphany is what led him to book an appointment with a shrink and was why he was now sitting in the waiting room in his own little version of hell. He never realized hell would be furnished with an ugly brown couch set from Rooms to Go, but it made sense.

He tried to ignore the cynical voice in his head. The one that assumed he'd be asked to spill his innermost thoughts with some 30-year-old woman who thought she knew everything because she went to some expensive liberal arts school. A woman who probably lived with her loving parents while they paid for her master's degree, because what the hell would she do with a bachelor's in psych? A woman who thought she was woke because she moved out of her parent's house in the suburbs into an apartment downtown. How was he supposed to share his thoughts with someone who knew nothing of hardship?

Then the door to the waiting room opened, and Kakashi was greeted by an older, bespectacled man, and he realized he should probably let go of all his assumptions...

Since the fire, Sasuke had come to embrace the numb, apathetic aura that surrounded his life. Feeling dead inside was, in his opinion, significantly better than feeling constant anguish. He had heard of people who hurt themselves "just to feel something." He couldn't resonate with that. He much preferred feeling like his heart was dead in his chest than the constant heaviness and clenching he'd felt in the months following his parents' death. He would gladly sacrifice pleasure and joy if it meant he didn't need to feel pain and heartache.

After Itachi's death, Sasuke felt those emotions reawaken. He felt his heart heavy and erratic with grief. He felt it in every fiber of his being. He felt his lungs shudder reticently when he tried to take a deep breath. He felt his eyes prickle with heat if he forgot to distract himself. He felt his limbs, leaden and listless one moment and blazing and agitated the next. He felt a fog float through his brain, attempting to dull the pain but simultaneously dulling every other feeling. The moment he felt clear-headed, he was encumbered with rage and depression so thick it threatened to engulf every piece of him—soul, body, and mind.

When he read his brother's note in that familiar handwriting and tried to come to terms with what it meant, he was assaulted with a new amalgamation of feelings.

As always, there was a feeling of pure sadness. He hadn't known his brother knew he was going to die before it happened. The note itself was proof that he was caught up in something deadly.

I know you do not trust me, but allow me the opportunity to gain that trust back.

To Sasuke, the note felt like Itachi was claiming innocence. How could he gain Sasuke's trust back if he murdered their parents? He couldn't. Either Itachi was innocent, or he was lying about being innocent.

Either way, Sasuke was forced to reopen the searing wound that had only just begun to scab over. The wound as painful and agonizing as a knife through the back. The wound caused by the knowledge that his brother cared so little about him and his mom and dad that he would set their bodies on fire. The knowledge that his loving brother was actually a deranged psychopath—a monster fit for an episode of Dateline.

Until he read Itachi's note, Sasuke had begun to accept it. He'd had to. It hadn't been an easy pill to swallow, but the more evidence against his brother he heard, the more he'd been forced to accept he was guilty.

Accepting it was painful, but it was followed by relief. It was only when he acknowledged what his brother had done that some of that fiery pain had been reduced to numbness.

Now that throbbing ambiguity was back, and he didn't know what to think. For all he knew, he could be following an utterly deranged maniac into a dangerous situation. Or a trap. The rest of his family was murdered. Why wouldn't someone have it out for him?

Despite his doubts, nothing could have stopped Sasuke from visiting Lake Kiri and finding the P.O. Box. The small town was a short distance away, but because its location was in the twists and turns of a mountain, it took an hour to get there. His Uber drove through thickly wooded, winding roads that became narrower and curvier as they closed in on their destination.

Sasuke was carsick and couldn't wait to jump out of the Uber. Despite the drivers best attempt at covering the smell with a cloying amount of air freshener, his car still smelled nauseatingly like cigarette smoke. They were already by the lake but still a few minutes from the post office. He gazed out the window to the dark blue lake. It looked like there were a few nicer vacation properties, but primarily tiny run-down homes and a few trailer houses.

The area was remote and sleepy. As they drove onto Main Street, Sasuke saw the town comprised of a Family Dollar, a horrendous-looking Mexican Restaurant, a Marine Body Shop, a handful of bed and breakfasts, and the post office.

Sasuke paid the Uber to wait for him—it would be almost impossible to find another at this location. He jumped out of the car and took deep breaths as he walked through the post office doors. The mailroom was empty, and Sasuke quickly found the brushed silver box and fit the key inside the lock.

He pulled out a small black case with a padlock and a sealed white envelope. He turned the envelope over in his hands, but it wasn't addressed to anyone. It was blank.

Not wanting to keep his driver waiting, he grabbed both and brought them back to the car with him, his stomach clenched in knots. If he'd thought the nausea would be improved when he got out of the car, he'd thought wrong.

He only spared a moment to speak with the driver and buckle his seatbelt before gingerly opening the white envelope. He pulled open a small, plain card with his brother's familiar handwriting dancing over it.

Baby Bro,

Forgive me for the complicated method of communication. Consider it one last time I get to annoy the shit out of you. Or think of it as some kind of morbid scavenger hunt. It's important I make the information I'm attempting to give you only accessible to you.

Try the birthday of that girl who had a crush on you.

I

Sasuke read the brief message over a few times before placing it back inside the envelope and staring out the window. His brain hardly recognized the scenic views his eyes tried to convey because every corner of his mind was occupied with thoughts.

His brother had been a serious man, but his words were always tinted with his fucked up sense of humor.

There was nothing funny about Itachi getting to 'annoy' Sasuke one last time. It was all tragic and heart-wrenching, and Itachi knew it. Itachi would have known Sasuke would be clinging to each letter he wrote—each word. He probably knew Sasuke would be desperate for any indication Itachi had been innocent. Any word from the family he had lost a year and a half ago.

He fought the urge to scowl at the 'clue' at the bottom of the note. Sasuke assumed the birthday was the password to the lock on the case, and his brother had probably laughed, making it a topic Sasuke was less than interested in.

Sakura.

A lot of girls had had crushes on Sasuke over the years, but Sasuke knew who Itachi was talking about. He had teased Sasuke about her relentlessly ever since he had first pushed her away when she tried to kiss him all those years ago.

Despite Itachi's own flock of clingy admirers, he had taken great joy in bringing up girls like Sakura to get a reaction out of Sasuke. Sakura just happened to stick around longer than the other girls that had followed after him. She was more persistent and more successful at making him pay attention. Rarely in the way she wanted.

Naturally, Itachi had to tease him one last time. The problem was Sasuke had never paid attention to when Sakura's birthday was. He'd probably celebrated with her at some point in the years, and he still couldn't even envision the month.

Why was his brain making him think February? Probably the pink hair—he was naturally associating it with Valentine's Day.

He decided to ask Naruto. That would be way less of a hassle than asking Sakura. He pulled out his phone and texted the question, not bothering to provide any context.

A few minutes later, he saw a response pop up on his screen, but it wasn't the one he'd been wanting.

Bro, where the fuck are you? I just texted Kakashi to tell you to get back to campus so we can go to this party.

Sasuke sighed heavily. Now he'd have to make up a story for Kakashi.

I'm not going to the party. Tell me Sakura's birthday.

Sasuke didn't love parties to begin with, but the girl throwing this Halloween party was intolerable. No way in hell was he subjecting himself to that.

I'm not telling you unless you come to the party. I bought us costumes.

Dear Lord, absolutely not.

Just as Sasuke was about to text Naruto back, a text from Kakashi came through.

Yo, where r u?

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Naruto, that fucking idiot.

When is her birthday dumbass? He responded to Naruto, not having the patience to negotiate.

It took ten more minutes to get an answer out of Naruto, deflecting questions and demands irritability until he was gritting his teeth. Finally, Sasuke agreed he'd go to the party if Naruto would tell him, but he would absolutely not be wearing a costume.

YAYAYYAYAYAYYYYYYYYY it's sometime in march I think.

Holy shit. That idiot didn't even know the exact date.

There was no party at Kiba's house this weekend. Instead, one of the cheerleaders, Karin, threw a massive Halloween party while her parents were off somewhere, turning a blind eye.

The house looked like a cross between a Restoration Hardware catalog and a frat house. The latter due to the red solo cups littering every surface and the sticky puddles of cheap flavored liquor mixed with soda.

Neji was leaning against one of the columns of the pool house, eyes narrowed, trying to establish exactly what his cousin was dressed up as. Some kind of slutty witch schoolgirl? He knew someone else had to be responsible for her costume because it certainly did not seem like something she'd put on herself. Looking to her left and right, he had an idea who "someone else" might be.

He saw Sasha and Tenten laughing beside her and was simultaneously grateful and irritated. While he was thrilled Tenten had been a friend to Hinata, he didn't love the costume.

He did enjoy Tenten's costume and recognized that she was Rachel from Friends. She was wearing a cropped Central Perk shirt tucked into a short black skirt with an apron, her hair slightly more voluminous than usual, like the character. Although it wasn't overwhelmingly provocative, she looked effortlessly sexy, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't stop glancing back at her.

He had come so close to kissing her Monday night. Really, she had come so close to kissing him. She had been the one bold enough to ask him if he liked her—if he was 'ever going to do anything about it.' She had leaned in first and had made it evident that any move he made would be reciprocated. It should have made him less nervous, but instead, his heart had been hammering furiously inside his chest. He hadn't been prepared for that.

She had put him on the spot and had essentially dared him to kiss her.

In that moment, he had willed himself to seem calm. He would be mortified if she knew how anxious he had been—if she knew it was his first kiss.

Neji had been completely uninvolved in the pre-adolescent drama that had taken place in 6-9th grades. When his friends had been talking about who liked who and having awkward first kisses, he'd remained aloof as if he were too good for that sort of thing. He didn't need to kiss someone just to get it over with. He had bigger things to worry about. His dying father being one. His dignity being another.

When Tenten leaned in though, he felt wholly unprepared. He was unnaturally aware of his lips. Were they chapped? How many hours had it been since he brushed his teeth??

Despite his rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms, some small amount of instinct had begun to take over. He felt her breath on his lips, and his eyes dropped to hers. Before he knew it, he was closing the distance and bringing one of his hands to her flushed cheek.

His lips were seconds from hers when they heard the squeal of her dorm room door open, and her roommate walked in. Neji's hand flew back to his side, and they both learned away from each other quickly. Sasha's eyes widened briefly before a knowing smirk passed over her lips, and she backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

It didn't matter, though. The moment had been awkward enough for Neji before she walked in. He couldn't recover from the situation after she left. Tenten laughed sheepishly, but Neji avoided her gaze. He spared her the briefest of glances before he told her he'd better go. He packed up quickly and bolted out of her room, scolding himself for his panic and inexperience.

The rest of the week, they had been all business. Their conversations had been limited to ethics the entire week, and he had been surprised Tenten had never brought anything up. She didn't seem nearly as anxious around him as he felt around her. Fortunately, Neji had a knack for hiding his thoughts. He looked at her impassively throughout the week, even when he felt himself become flustered. Pretending nothing had happened was simultaneously a profound disappointment and relief.

Tonight, though, he wanted to talk to her. He had talked himself up before hand, and for the sake of his own confidence, he needed to address the situation.

A small part of him wished for a drink to ease his inhibitions. He knew he wouldn't, though. His father would be so disappointed in him if he disregarded the rules, the law, his morals. No, even though his father was dead, Neji still lived to please him.

Tenten was laughing so hard that her rum and coke threatened to come out of her nose. She dropped her face in her hand not holding her drink to try to hide her over-the-top reaction to her roommate's story. She was standing outside by the pool talking with Sasha and Hinata when she heard a familiar voice from behind her shoulder.

She'd been waiting to hear that voice all night, but she wished it hadn't been when she was choking back rum, coke, and tears from Sasha's story. She quickly composed herself, running the pads of her fingers under her eyes to get rid of any mascara that might have fallen.

"What are you supposed to be?" she saw Neji asking his cousin as Tenten turned toward him.

"I'm W-Wednesday," Hinata said tentatively, tapping her fingers together nervously.

"Who?" Neji asked, judgment dripping from his words.

"Doesn't she look great?" Tenten cut in, even though they all knew Neji clearly hated her costume. She pulled out her phone and began searching for the character the costume was based on.

"I take it you're responsible for this?" He looked at her unamused. Tenten pushed her phone up to his nose.

"Look—Wednesday Adams. She has the perfect hair for it. She looks just like her!" She forced extra enthusiasm into her voice—as if that would actually convince him to chill.

"The character doesn't look like she's about to walk out of a strip club, so why does Hinata?" He asked scowling. Tenten rolled her eyes. Sure, they'd taken some liberties with the costume. The skirt was possibly a bit short, but nothing she wouldn't wear herself. She glanced at Hinata, whose face was completely crimson.

"Oh, shut up. Who are you even supposed to be? It doesn't even look like you dressed up." She looked him over, trying to ascertain who he was. He wore black slacks, a black belt and tie, and a light blue dress shirt slightly rolled up at the arms. They were normal clothes, but not necessarily something he would wear.

"I dressed up," he said indignantly, looking at the three girls in front of him. "It looks like we both went for sitcoms," he glanced at Tenten's outfit and allowed his voice to soften. She cocked her head and furrowed her brow, trying to figure out who he could be. "Jim from The Office," he clarified, pushing up each sleeve higher on his forearms in a somewhat nervous gesture.

Since their near kiss earlier in the week, Neji had acted almost entirely normal, if not a little standoffish. She would have been offended if it weren't for the small gestures throughout the week that showed his nervousness. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but her self-consciousness made her pay closer attention to him than perhaps a reasonable person would.

At first, Tenten wondered if he had lied about liking her to spare her feelings. She doubted this. She knew he was straightforward and would probably have been brutally honest if he didn't like her back.

After days of wondering why he wouldn't speak a word to her that wasn't about the electric chair, she saw his evasion for what it was. He was nervous and probably not very experienced with dating.

Knowing this made her feel bold. Sure, none of her "experience" had been anything remarkable, but she'd had enough (combined with an extroverted personality) to give her the confidence to take the lead. If he was going to be a toddler about it.

"I'm guessing you chose that character so you could dress in normal clothes," she accused, laughing lightly.

"Oh, I see Chouji! And Kiba! Hinata and I are going to go say hi." Sasha interrupted and grabbed Hinata's hand in a blatant attempt to leave Neji and Tenten alone. Tenten didn't actually see Kiba or Chouji anyways, so she assumed it was a flat-out lie.

Neji and Tenten stood there quietly, not knowing what to say to each other. Tenten rubbed her arm nervously and glanced around the perfectly manicured backyard. She took a larger sip of her drink and winced slightly as the bubbles stung her throat.

"Sooo," Tenten started, wracking her mind for something to say to alleviate the silence, "why don't you drink?"

His brows rose slightly, giving her a look with a hint of reproach.

"Because I'm not 21." He said matter-of-factly.

As if a Prohibitionist was looking down at them laughing, a drunk guy stumbled outside and started puking violently into the bushes. Neji gave her a triumphant, disgusted look, but Tenten just laughed, feeling happy and floaty from the rum.

"Wanna go walk somewhere away from the junior frat boy?" She said tugging on his hand gently, forcing herself not to think too hard about the contact. Neji nodded blankly and followed her to the dark driveway, allowing the loud music and sounds of drunk teenagers to fade into the distance. She dropped his hand and put her cup in one of the dumpsters before walking down the driveway to the dark street.

"So, is that the only reason?"

"What?" Neji asked, looking over at her face. The neighborhood wasn't well-lit, so the further they moved away from the house, the darker it became.

"That you don't drink— because you're not 21." She clarified, her eyes focused on the pavement.

"Uh, yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know, I was just wondering if it was more because you're afraid of getting in trouble or if it's just some deep moral code thing." She explained, stopping herself before she could ramble too much.

She thought she saw a ghost of a smile move across his face as if he were amused.

"Probably more of a moral code thing. Laws exist for a reason." He replied, nearly tripping over a branch.

"So what do you think those reasons are in this case? Why should I not be breaking the law?" Tenten asked, allowing a playful smile to spread across her face. She was taking the conversation seriously, but she knew he'd feel uncomfortable answering while she was drunk. She didn't know why his discomfort amused her.

"Your brain is still developing. Teens are more likely to make risky choices, and alcohol amplifies that." He gave her a sideways glance as they kept walking.

"But what if you trust yourself? Not to make bad choices, I mean," she tucked a lock of hair and looked up at his serious face.

"I think everyone could make bad choices given enough to drink."

"Including people over 21," Tenten added with a smirk. Neither said anything for the next block. Tenten felt herself drawn into her thoughts, and she stared at the pavement, chewing her lip as they walked.

"I mean, I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just saying what I do." Neji said, interrupting the quiet.

"Awesome. Glad to know I can make all the bad choices I want," she teased. "Like walking drunk in the dark with some guy," she glanced around at her sparse surroundings. Houses were spread out, but they weren't completely isolated.

"I'm not some guy," Neji nudged her gently, smiling slightly.

"You could be a total creep for all I know," she shrugged, forcing the smile off her face in order to be more convincing.

Neji rolled his eyes, "Yeah, okay— I'm a total gentleman," he looked down at her, catching her dark eyes.

Tenten giggled, "Yeah, about that…."

"What?"

"Maybe you could tone that down a little bit," she grinned, stopping in her tracks to turn toward him fully. She watched with amusement in her eyes as he furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean?" He frowned.

Tenten moved closer to him until they were as close as they'd been earlier in the week. She brought her hands to his shoulders, and she felt him holding his breath.

"Make a move, Neji," she said, eyes flicking to his lips. By the grace of God, Neji got the very overt hint. Her heart fluttered as his soft lips brushed over hers. He was tentative at first. His hands skimmed her waist indecisively. He pulled away just enough to catch her eyes, and she smiled mischievously up at him before tugging the back of his head gently toward her to bring his lips back down to hers.

AN: Please let me know what you think!