Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

Naruko was well and truly stumped.

She knew how everyone perceived her. Confident. Strong. A bit dumb.

They couldn't even begin to imagine the layers and complexities that make up Uzumaki Naruko. Because even she herself didn't know. Where her mask began and where it ended. If there was even a distinction between real and fake anymore.

After all, to deceive others, one must first deceive themselves.

Those cold, desolate nights that seemed to stretch for an eternity. An existence that was neither loved nor hated but ignored. So she created a reason for her existence.

Pranks. Pranks that could make people glare, make them shout, make them chase her, and sometimes, make them smile. Those moments of acknowledgement were fleeting, but she craved them like a man possessed.

And then she met the Hokage. One of the few who smiled at her and was happy at her presence. The one person that everyone looked up to and loved. He was like the sun.

No. He was the sun.

The sun that dawned a new day. She wanted to be exactly like him. The sun. So she smiled. She laughed. She followed her own brand of justice and worked hard to become a great ninja. For years, it was as if her anxious, abandoned self was forgotten. If she wasn't pranking, she was training. If she wasn't training, she was making friends. If she wasn't making friends, she was saving the world.

She saved the world.

A cool breeze gently tussled her hair as she gazed down at Konoha from atop the Hokage Rock. Rather than receiving its usual calming effect, the vice grip around her heart squeezed ever so tightly. Hugging her knees to her chest, Naruko hid her face behind her hair.

But there was no avoiding her reality now. She heard that love strips you of everything but your true self. An emotion that tends to reveal the ugly more than the good.

"Naruko?"

Hot tears trailed down her cool cheeks as she looked up. Her vision blurred as she saw the source- no, the catalyst behind her realisation. His large, warm hands gently held her shoulders.

Naruko broke.

(The truth was …

She locked up a crying child and strengthened the locks and cell every time she wanted to be heard. To be seen. To be comforted.

She abandoned the one who needed her most.

She abandoned herself.)

…

Hari sighed as he looked at the woman lying in his bed.

Her usually tan and healthy skin was pale and gaunt, while her whiskered cheeks and nose were abnormally red. Her long, sun-kissed hair was plastered onto her head and neck, damp from her constant cold sweat. He could see her eyes wandering erratically under her eyelids, and the occasional tear she shed hinted at her suffering from a deep-rooted nightmare.

Even now, Hari could feel his heart stutter and skip a beat as he held Naruko's small, but rough hand in his own.

Dammit. Getting attached was never within his plans.

Looking at Naruko reminded him of himself. It was like gazing into a shattered mirror. Broken and jagged, but all the more beautiful because of the cracks.

More importantly, it was everything she did. The way her eyes would widen when she's curious, and the way she would rub the back of her neck when she's nervous. The way her eyes lit up when she saw him, and the way her smile would deepen when he said something. The way he started to look forward to her visits and miss her the minute she left. The way she shone in the sunlight as she took him around Konoha.

Hari barely resisted facepalming himself as he internally gagged at his own sappy thoughts. Instead, he put his hand on Naruko's forehead and signed in relief at the lower temperature.

If only his 18-year-old, disillusioned self who abandoned Magical Britain could see him now. He thought that he would never move past the lie that was his life, but he succeeded in the end. Forfeiting the Potter name, naming Teddy as the Black heir and giving Hermione all his money so she could drag Britain into a new future? Best decision of his life. And it was the first decision he made for himself. Not as the Dursleys' nephew, not as Dumbledore's Golden Boy and not as the Man-Who-Conquered. But a decision made as Harry. Just… Harry.

Accidentally stumbling into a dimensional crack and falling into this one? Even better.

He thought that he could spend his days leisurely, especially because he arrived after this world was apparently saved by another prophecy child.

But no. I just had to go and fall in love with her.

"Took you long enough to admit that, Master."

Hari grit his teeth.

"Goddammit, why are you still haunting me?"

"Come now, you're my favourite human, Master. How could I neglect you?"

"Stop calling me that! I'm not even the Master of Death, you made that whole thing up! I'm just entertainment to you!"

"Does this mean you would rather forgo hearing news on the little Lupin?"

Hari flinched. "You're cruel, you know that? Because of you, I can't even move on properly."

"Too late. I'm afraid you've lost your chance, Master."

…

One second, she was in darkness, and the next, Naruko found herself almost straddling Hari as she squeezed his neck with one hand and held him with the other. Even with his face reddening from the pressure she was putting on his neck, Hari never lost his composure.

"Hi," he greeted her casually, "did you sleep well?"

Mortified, Naruko sprang back. Extremely disorientated, she fell back onto the bed, belatedly realizing that she still was holding Hari's hand and pulled him towards her. This led to an uncomfortably close situation where Hari just about stopped himself from landing on her and held himself up with his two arms. She had a perfect view of his startling wide shoulders and could acutely feel the intense heat radiating from his body. In the face of such an effective attack, all thoughts and worries vacated Naruko's brain.

And then, he laughed.

"Aren't we moving a little too fast, Naruko-chan?"