Midnight
Slowly opening his eyes in the pitch darkness, the jinchuriki lay still for several seconds, adjusting to his surroundings. Outside the window, rare stars twinkled—he had slept until nightfall. This wasn't surprising; immediately after Scott's exhausting treatment that morning, the young shinobi had collapsed into bed, having spent the entire previous night restoring his friend. For the first time in a long while, his sleep had been empty and peaceful, without draining nightmares or painful memories.
Finding the light switch, the young man winced at the bright light and covered his eyes with his hand. His body felt heavy after the long sleep, his muscles aching slightly—a reminder of the sleepless night spent healing his comrade.
The blond slowly rose from the bed, stretching his stiff shoulders. His orange jacket remained draped over the back of the chair where he had tossed it. After quickly getting dressed, he left the room.
The corridor greeted him with silence—at this hour, most of the school's inhabitants were already asleep. The path to the communal showers seemed unusually long in the dim light. His slippers quietly rustled against the carpet, and the sound was strangely calming.
The shower room was empty and humid. The young man turned on the water, waiting for it to become hot enough. Steam gradually filled the room, condensing in droplets on the mirrors. Stepping under the forceful streams, the former resident of Konoha felt the hot water washing away the remnants of sleep and the tension of the past few days.
The water drummed against his shoulders, and there was something meditative in that monotonous sound. The ninja leaned his forehead against the cool tile, allowing his thoughts to flow freely. Here, in the privacy of the shower, he could momentarily remove the mask of the incorrigible optimist that he wore during the day.
Turning off the faucet, the warrior let the last drops slide down his shoulders. Steam still swirled near the ceiling. Reaching for a towel, he dried himself with quick, practiced movements.
His damp hair stood out in all directions even more than usual. Glancing briefly at the foggy mirror—where a tired but refreshed face stared back at him—the Fourth Hokage's son pulled on a clean t-shirt and pants, then slipped his feet into his slippers.
His stomach reminded him of its presence with a demanding growl—not surprising, since he had slept through the entire day—so the Uzumaki headed to the kitchen, trying to step as quietly as possible.
The school kitchen greeted him with coolness and silence. Only the quiet hum of the refrigerator disturbed the night's stillness. Flicking on the light switch, the visitor from another world bathed the room in soft light.
"Well, let's see what we have here..." he muttered to himself, opening the refrigerator. The cool air pleasantly brushed his face.
The shelves were stocked with food—it seemed a new delivery had recently arrived for the school's growing number of inhabitants. Containers of prepared food, fresh vegetables, dairy products, eggs... The jinchuriki surveyed the refrigerator's contents with an appraising eye, wondering what to prepare.
"Man, I could really go for some Ichiraku ramen right now..." the treacherous thought flickered through his mind, but he immediately pushed it away. This wasn't the time to indulge in nostalgia.
Among the many containers, one particularly caught the Nine-Tails vessel's attention—on the lid was a note with his name, written in neat handwriting. No signature, just "For Naruto."
Inside was homemade curry with rice—clearly prepared with skill. Golden sauce, tender pieces of chicken, beautifully cut vegetables... Just the sight made his mouth water. Someone had obviously spent time preparing this dish.
Sitting down at the table, the shinobi opened the container. Even cold, the curry smelled delicious—the spicy aroma of seasonings mixed with notes of coconut milk and fresh herbs. He scooped up the first portion with a spoon.
"Delicious!" The young man's eyes widened in surprise. The curry was perfectly balanced: not too spicy, but with a pleasant piquancy; the sauce was thick and rich, and the rice was perfectly fluffy, exactly as it should be.
The young man began eating with appetite, wondering who might have left him this dinner. The handwriting was unfamiliar, neat, with a slight leftward slant.
The warm feeling of care, albeit anonymous, made his heart lighter. In this simple gesture—leaving food for someone who had missed dinner—there was something very human, reminiscent of home.
The curry was so delicious that the ninja didn't leave a single crumb. After carefully washing the container and putting it to dry—whoever had prepared his dinner, it would have been impolite to leave an unwashed container—he left the kitchen, not quite sure what to do with himself.
In the corridors, he occasionally encountered sleepless students: a girl with glowing hair walked by, absorbed in her phone, while in the distance a boy with scaly skin was quietly chatting with a friend.
Passing by the living room, the shinobi heard the muffled hum of voices and laughter. Soft light filtered from under the door. Intrigued, the young man pushed the door open and froze on the threshold in surprise.
In the cozy living room, illuminated only by wall sconces and the screen of a large television, an unusual company had gathered. Wolverine was sprawled in a leather armchair, clutching a can of beer. Bobby and Kitty had settled on the floor among pillows, talking about something and giggling. Rogue sat on the couch, holding a glass of wine. Her gaze instantly turned to the visitor from another world when he entered the room. Even Uchiha was there—he occupied a spot in the far corner of the couch, maintaining his customary impassive expression.
"Naruto!" called Kitty, noticing him. "Join us! We're having a movie marathon!"
Bobby caught the jinchuriki's puzzled gaze and smiled encouragingly. Lately, their small living room had increasingly become a refuge from the heaviness of the outside world—a place where one could simply be oneself, without thinking about training, missions, and responsibilities.
"You're here too?" the young shinobi stared at his friend in surprise. Seeing the last representative of the Uchiha clan in such an informal setting was so unusual that for a moment he doubted whether he was still asleep. Sasuke had always avoided such gatherings, preferring training or solitude to any social interactions. Even in childhood, when their team gathered together outside of missions, the Sharingan wielder either flatly refused or sat with such an expression as if he were performing an especially difficult Hokage assignment. And now he was voluntarily spending time in the company of barely familiar people, and even watching entertainment cinema?
The Rinnegan owner merely grunted: "Had nothing better to do."
In reality, this was just an excuse. In recent days, heavy thoughts about the fate of their world had been troubling him, pursuing him even in his sleep. The endless replaying in his mind of what he had seen through the Rinnegan was slowly driving him mad. Solitude, which had previously been his faithful companion, was now becoming unbearable—it only intensified the bitterness of realizing the truth that he had decided to hide from his best friend. At some point, the last of the Uchihas realized that he could no longer remain alone with his thoughts. Perhaps that's why he ended up here—the noise of other people's conversations and even this ridiculous idea of watching a movie seemed better than another evening alone with his oppressive memories.
Uzumaki approached Scott: "Aren't you getting out of bed a little early?"
Cyclops smiled, and for the first time ever, his gaze wasn't hidden behind a visor: "Yeah, feeling great. To be honest, even better than ever."
"His organism's indicators demonstrate phenomenal recovery," Beast spoke up from his massive armchair, adjusting his glasses. "The newly formed chakra channels are functioning stably, hemodynamic parameters have optimized, and the level of mitochondrial activity has exceeded baseline values by forty percent. The bioelectric potentials of neural circuits show stable synchronization..." He broke off, noticing how the others were rolling their eyes. "In short, I wanted to keep him for more analysis, but our patient decided he'd had enough of the hospital bed."
"Come on, sit down already," grumbled the Immortal, taking another sip of cold beer.
Rogue moved over, making room on the couch beside her. In her hands, she held a glass of red wine, thoughtfully swirling it. When the young ninja sat next to her, she merely nodded slightly in greeting.
"By the way," the blond perked up, turning to the others, "does anyone know who left curry for me in the refrigerator? It was really delicious, but the note had no signature."
The girl with the white streak took a small sip of wine, outwardly remaining completely unperturbed. Only her fingers gripped the stem of the glass a little tighter.
Pride noticed this barely perceptible movement and smiled mentally. After she learned that Naruto could touch her without worry, she had many questions for her friend. But the restoration of the school after the Sentinels' attack, endless patrols, and helping newly arrived refugees left no time for confidential conversations. And now, watching as Rogue tried to hide her involvement in the curry's appearance, Kitty felt a warm wave of tenderness toward her usually unapproachable friend.
"Ooh, a secret admirer?" she teased, winking. "Or admirer-ess? Do we have a mysterious chef among us?"
Bobby smirked, remembering the professor's single attempt to cook something. That culinary catastrophe was still the subject of jokes among the students, though no one dared to joke about it in Xavier's presence.
Jean met the southerner's gaze and smiled almost imperceptibly. She remembered perfectly how she had peeked into the kitchen during the day and seen Rogue, concentrating on chopping spices for curry. But the telepath had merely exchanged a knowing look with her and tactfully withdrawn, not revealing the secret.
"The important thing is that it was delicious," Cyclops remarked. "We have a lot of talented people here. Take Wolverine, for example..."
"Don't even start, Summers," grumbled the Canadian, opening a new can of beer. "We agreed never to mention that barbecue incident."
The shinobi laughed along with everyone else, but from the corner of his eye, he noticed how the mutant girl relaxed slightly when the conversation drifted away from the mysterious curry.
The X-Men leader reached for the remote, turning on Netflix. The large screen illuminated the room with the subdued light of the home screen.
"So, what are we watching?" Scott scrolled through the options. "Kong: Skull Island, or maybe we should start with The Lord of the Rings?" he turned to the visitors from another world.
"You haven't seen any of our movies yet, have you?"
"Nope," Naruto shook his head. "Our movies are a bit... different."
Sasuke snorted: "Mostly propaganda films about the exploits of great shinobi."
"Oh, then we need to choose something really worthwhile for the first time," Kitty said excitedly.
Jean thoughtfully tapped her fingers on the armrest, mentally considering options. The epic saga of Middle-earth seemed too serious a choice for their first introduction to their cinematography, especially considering the late hour.
"Kong then?" Bobby suggested.
"A giant monkey beating up other monsters," Logan added with a smirk. "What's there to think about?"
"Wait," interjected the girl with the white streak, taking a sip of wine. "What about Back to the Future? Weren't we planning to watch that?"
"I vote for Back to the Future," Beast supported, adjusting his glasses with a characteristic professorial gesture, and everyone prepared for another scientific lecture on the inaccuracies in the depiction of temporal paradoxes, but he unexpectedly restrained himself, deciding not to spoil the evening with boring explanations.
"Hmm..." the visitor from another world scratched the back of his head. "Giant monkey or time traveler?" He grinned widely. "I think I want to watch the time traveler! I've seen enough giant monkeys already."
"Decision made," Cyclops began searching for the film in the list. "By the way, for the full effect, we need popcorn. Kitty?"
The young mutant perked up excitedly and rose to her feet easily, adjusting her rumpled t-shirt. Shadowcat's movements were characteristically light and graceful as she headed toward the wall, intending to pass through it. But at that moment, Wolverine suddenly tensed, sniffing, and frowned irritably, turning toward the door. Displeasure flashed in his eyes—the evening, which had started so well in the company of trusted friends, threatened to be spoiled by uninvited guests. The mutant with the adamantium skeleton slowly lowered his beer can, demonstrating with his entire demeanor how much he disliked the approaching invasion into their cozy gathering.
Emma Frost appeared in the doorway; her snow-white suit seemed inappropriately formal for a night movie session. She was followed by Mystique, Wanda, and Pietro—former enemies, and now... what?
"Do you mind if we join you?" Emma said this with that special intonation that made a question almost a statement.
Scott frowned, his green eyes darkening: "This evening is just for the team."
"But we're allies now, aren't we?" the White Queen elegantly raised an eyebrow. "Besides, after three years in that cage..." she paused, "a little normal relaxation wouldn't hurt."
Tension hung in the room. Jean automatically squeezed the team leader's hand, Logan continued to glare at the newcomers, Rogue tensed almost imperceptibly when her gaze met the yellow eyes of the blue-skinned mutant. Mystique was passing by the couch where she was sitting with Naruto, and for a moment slowed her step. A penetrating gaze slid over their figures, lingering on how close they sat to each other, and a knowing smile touched her lips. The girl with the white streak felt everything inside clench with hatred for this woman—she hated that smug look.
The Scarlet Witch gave Sasuke an appraising glance, but he merely measured her with a cold gaze. Finding no response, she gracefully sank onto a free pouf.
Cyclops sighed heavily, realizing that Emma was right. As much as he wanted to keep this evening just for the team, the new reality demanded different decisions.
"Hey, what's going on?" Naruto scratched the back of his head, looking at Scott. "Were you enemies before or something like that?"
Uchiha, who until that moment had seemed almost relaxed, subtly leaned forward. His hand, resting on the armrest, quivered slightly—a movement so imperceptible that only the blond caught it, knowing his friend's body language too well. Something in the atmosphere reminded them both of the air before a storm—heavy, electrified, ready to explode.
Emma slowly walked forward. The soft light from the TV screen played on her diamond form, casting bizarre reflections on the walls. The shinobi involuntarily squinted—there was something hypnotizing and simultaneously disturbing about it.
"'Enemies' is such a loud word." The telepath sank into an armchair with the grace of a predator. "Let's say we had... ideological disagreements with dear Scott and his team."
Naruto noticed how Rogue next to him almost imperceptibly sank into the couch, her gloved fingers gripping her wine glass tighter.
"Disagreements?" Wolverine laughed hoarsely. "You call trying to seize Cerebro a disagreement? Or maybe that incident with the Inner Circle?"
Sasuke barely perceptibly shook his head—a gesture that his friend had learned to read back at the academy. "Don't interfere. Observe." But for once, the last of the Uchiha clan seemed genuinely interested in what was happening—his eyes carefully followed every movement of those present, as if memorizing, analyzing, arranging everything methodically.
"Logan," Scott said warningly, and the air in the room seemed to thicken.
"No, let him speak." Mystique leaned forward, and Naruto was amazed at how her blue skin appeared almost black in the room's dimness. Her yellow eyes burned with an inner fire, and something in that gaze made him remember Kurama's eyes in those days when they were still enemies. "Tell them how you chased us across the country. How you cornered us, forcing us to seek... alternative methods of survival."
The visitor from another world felt a chill run down his spine. There was something fascinating about how these people balanced on the edge—seemingly just a conversation, but every word seemed charged with an explosive tag, ready to detonate at the slightest spark.
"Alternative methods?" Kitty snorted, and the bowl of popcorn in her hands began slowly passing through her palms until Bobby quietly touched her shoulder, bringing her back to reality. "Is that what kidnapping Senator Kelly is called now?"
"Quiet!" The X-Men leader's voice cut through the air like a katana, and even Sasuke barely noticeably raised his eyebrows, noting the strength of this commanding tone.
Naruto glanced from one face to another, feeling like he did in childhood when he accidentally wandered into a shinobi meeting. Everyone seemed to be just talking, but each word carried stories of pain, betrayal, and unfulfilled hopes.
Pietro, who until that moment had been a blurry silvery spot darting around the room at a speed that made even the shinobi's eyes strain, suddenly stopped.
"You know what? To hell with all this. I spent three years in that cage. Three years!" The speedster's voice was irritated, and his fingers vibrated at such a frequency that they appeared semi-transparent. "Honestly? I'm sick of these arguments about who did what to whom. Three years in a cage—that's enough for me. Right now, I just want to sit down, watch a movie, and drink beer like a normal person. Everything else can wait."
The beer can in his hand opened with a characteristic hiss. Pietro took a long swig and closed his eyes with pleasure: "Damn, how I missed this."
"My brother is right." Wanda's voice sounded soft, but red flashes dancing between her fingers cast anxious shadows on the walls. A wine bottle, standing on an elegant side table a meter away from her, was enveloped in a crimson glow, slowly rose into the air, and floated toward her glass. Settling more comfortably on the soft pouf, she demonstrated with her entire demeanor that this evening could indeed be spent without old grudges.
"Fine, whatever," Scott finally said, his green eyes appearing almost black in the dim room. "And the movie's about to start."
"How magnanimous." Emma smiled slightly. "I hope you've chosen something worthy?"
"Back to the Future," Shadowcat replied, still staying slightly to the side, as if ready to sink through the floor at any moment.
Naruto felt the southerner beside him relax slightly when Mystique chose a spot at the opposite end of the room. He fidgeted on the couch, trying to get comfortable. The blanket covering Rogue accidentally slipped, and he automatically adjusted it, not even thinking about this gesture. Only afterward, noticing how she froze for a moment, did the young man realize how significant this simple act of care might be.
The White Queen, observing the scene, raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Jean. In this silent dialogue between two telepaths, there was an understanding of something inaccessible to others.
When the opening credits filled the screen, Logan finally allowed himself to relax a little, though his hands still trembled slightly, as if ready to release his claws at any moment. Bobby created several ice cubes for his drink, and the sound of them against the glass seemed unexpectedly loud in the established silence.
The first frames of the film began to unfold on the screen, and gradually all gazes focused on the story developing before them. But in the air, there still lingered this strange sensation—like the calm before a storm or, perhaps, the first uncertain steps toward something new.
After the Movie
When the end credits began to roll, the room filled with the sounds of stretching and yawning. The clock on the wall showed the beginning of four in the morning. Someone flicked the light switch, and the soft light of the wall sconces flooded the space with a warm glow, pulling those present out of their cinematic trance.
"Awesome!" Naruto smiled broadly, still under the impression of the film. "I wonder if there's a sequel?"
"Oh yeah," chuckled Logan, stretching his stiff joints with a characteristic sound. "There are two more parts. Maybe next time."
The Canadian was the first to head for the exit. All day, he and Rogue had been delivering supplies to safe houses, and even his endurance had limits.
Wanda and Pietro exchanged understanding glances and silently headed for the exit.
Mystique lingered for a moment. Her yellow eyes slowly slid over the faces of those present, as if imprinting this scene in her memory, especially carefully noting how the shinobi and the girl with the white streak sat side by side on the couch. A barely noticeable knowing smile curved her blue lips before she too silently left the room.
Kitty simply began to slowly sink through the floor, muttering a sleepy "Good night."
Bobby rose and slowly trudged toward the door.
Sasuke also stood from his seat. The Uchiha gave his friend an unreadable glance, in which, however, a shadow of understanding could be caught.
Scott and Jean also rose, holding hands. In the leader's green eyes, fatigue mixed with an unusual sensation—for the first time in a long time, he could see the world without the red filter of his visor.
Soon, only Naruto and Rogue remained in the room. The subdued light of the sconces created a cozy half-light around them, and outside the window reigned a deep night, interrupted only by the distant rumble of rare cars.
"Want some?" the southerner nodded toward the wine bottle standing on the coffee table. "There's a little left, but enough for a couple of glasses."
The blond, who had never tried wine before, looked at the dark bottle with interest.
"Sure!" He smiled. "But I don't really know much about this. We only drink sake back home."
The mutant reached for a clean glass. Naruto noticed how the white streak in her hair reflected light when Rogue leaned over, pouring the wine.
"You know," she handed him the glass, and their fingers touched momentarily, "I was the one who made that curry."
The shinobi blinked, accepting the glass: "Really? It was delicious! But why didn't you sign the note?"
Rogue smirked slightly, taking a sip: "Didn't want to be embarrassed when everyone else started teasing. Especially Emma—she wouldn't miss such a chance."
In her voice was a mixture of embarrassment and something else that Naruto couldn't quite identify. He took his first-ever sip of wine, surprised by the unusual taste.
"Hey, not bad!" the visitor from another world smiled, looking at the dark red liquid in his glass. "Though very different from sake."
Rogue pulled her knees to her chest, getting more comfortable on the couch. She took another sip of wine, feeling warmth spreading through her body. The sconce light created a special atmosphere around them, as if separating them from the rest of the world.
"Naruto," the mutant said with that special intonation that appears when you're deciding on something important, "give me your hand."
She slowly removed her glove, and in this simple gesture was so much unspoken. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the soft lighting of the room. For a moment, the shinobi's heart skipped a beat—there was something mesmerizing about this sight.
The blond, watching the girl attentively, silently extended his hand. When their fingers intertwined, the southerner allowed herself a barely noticeable smile. His hand was warm, with calluses from training—so alive and real.
Rogue took a sip of wine, thoughtfully looking at Naruto over the rim of her glass. In the dim light of the room, her eyes seemed deeper than usual when she quietly said: "Tell me about yourself. About what you were like before."
The visitor from another world froze for a moment, but then smiled—that special smile that appeared in moments of true sincerity. His voice softened as he began to speak.
The girl with the white streak listened. Truly listened—in the way few could. She noticed every pause in his words, every gesture, every change in intonation. When his voice grew quieter, she leaned forward slightly. When he smiled, remembering something bright, the corners of her lips lifted too.
"Then the pervy sage pushed me into a chasm when I needed to release the tailed beast's chakra."
"Wait." Rogue straightened up sharply, her eyes widening. "He did what?"
Naruto laughed, noticing how her expression changed. In the dim light, he could see the mutant's fingers tightening around her glass.
"Yeah, just pushed me!" He smiled broadly, as if talking about something completely ordinary. "Said that in an extreme situation..."
"Pushed a child into a chasm." Her voice dropped lower, dangerous notes appearing. "For training."
Something in her tone made the shinobi stop mid-sentence. He watched with interest as the southerner set aside her glass and straightened up, as if preparing for battle.
"If that 'sage' of yours were here..." She didn't finish the sentence, but her gaze spoke for itself.
Naruto blinked, suddenly realizing how this story might sound to someone from another world. Especially to someone who had spent years protecting young mutants from adult cruelty.
"No, no, wait!" The blond waved his hands, seeing how the interlocutor's gaze darkened. "It's not what you think. Jiraiya... he knew what he was doing. You see, the Nine-Tails was sealed inside me, but I couldn't access her chakra. And there was no time for regular training—I had a fight with Neji in a month."
Rogue was still frowning, but something in his voice made her listen more attentively.
"And you know what's the coolest part?" The shinobi's eyes lit up as he began to gesture actively. "At that moment, when I was falling... It was scary, of course, but that's when I first truly looked inside myself. And there, in my consciousness, I met him—Kurama. I didn't know his name then, thought he was just the Nine-Tailed Fox..."
He leaned forward, completely immersed in his memories.
"And then... I summoned a huge toad! Right in mid-air! It was the size of this mansion, no, even bigger! Gamabunta—that was his name. Man, was he angry at first..." Naruto laughed. "I had to stay on his back all day to prove I was worthy to be his summoner."
The girl involuntarily gave in to his enthusiasm. The tension gradually left her shoulders, giving way to genuine interest.
"Wait... A toad the size of a mansion?"
"Yeah!" The young man jumped up, starting to show the dimensions with his hands. "Just imagine: just his head was as tall as three floors. And when he jumped, the ground shook! And he smoked a pipe. A huge one..."
Rogue couldn't help but laugh, watching as Naruto, getting carried away, imitated a smoking giant toad.
"Now I'm starting to understand why you reacted so calmly to our mutants."
"After giant toads?" The blond collapsed onto the couch, and a mischievous grin lit up his face. "Jiraiya... what a character. Always with his quirks, rarely serious. But, damn it, he was the only one who truly understood how to channel my stubbornness in the right direction. Each of his crazy antics, each wild trial—they were all steps toward the strength I was striving for. And you know what? That old pervert definitely knew what he was doing!"
The mutant looked at him attentively, and in her gaze, condemnation gradually gave way to understanding. She knew too well what it was like when your abilities could be dangerous to others and how important it was to learn to control them, whatever the cost.
Dawn was beginning to break outside the window as Naruto continued his enthusiastic storytelling. His hands fluttered in the air, showing the size of the Rasengan, the trajectory of summoned toads' flight. The warm light of the sconces cast bizarre shadows on the walls from his gestures.
Rogue listened, not taking her eyes off him. With each minute, she imperceptibly moved closer, as if drawn to his energy. The shinobi, completely immersed in his memories, didn't notice how the distance between them decreased.
"And then Sasuke and I..." He broke off mid-sentence.
The girl leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. In the first moment, the kiss was almost weightless, as if she feared scaring away the moment. But then, realizing the freedom of touch that she had been denied for so long, the southerner seemed to lose control. Years of forced solitude, endless nights spent dreaming of a simple touch—all this poured out in one passionate impulse.
Her hands flew to his face, trembling fingers buried themselves in his blond locks. One hand slid lower, exploring the warm skin of his neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath her palm. Her tongue insistently traced the contour of his lips, penetrating deeper, intertwining in a dance that took his breath away.
Naruto's eyes widened in surprise when the kiss transformed from gentle to deep and demanding. The touch of her tongue sent electric shocks through his entire body, and the authoritative movements of her hands in his hair made his head spin. His heart was beating like crazy, and his mind was in complete chaos—he had never thought a kiss could be so all-consuming, so fierce in its tenderness.
Suddenly the mutant pulled back, realizing her force, her cheeks burning, her breath ragged.
"Sorry, I..." she bit her lip, lowering her gaze. "I got carried away. It's just... I've been so..."
"It's fine, really!" the shinobi hastily assured her, feeling his own cheeks burning. "I was just surprised. In a good way, dattebayo!"
Rogue raised her eyes, meeting his sincere, slightly embarrassed gaze. In his blue eyes, there wasn't a shadow of judgment or dislike—only warmth and budding tenderness.
"Then..." she moved closer, her voice becoming quieter, "shall we continue?"
The blond silently nodded, and this time, when their lips met, he was ready. The girl leaned forward again, her heart beating a rapid rhythm. The kiss deepened, she gently pushed him onto the couch, and they sank onto the pillows, not breaking contact.
In his chest spread a new, unfamiliar feeling—as if a fiery flower was blooming inside, warming his entire being. Every nerve in her body sang with the joy of long-awaited closeness. Time lost all meaning, there were only the two of them, their intertwined fingers and touching lips—a moment when two solitudes finally found each other.
When their lips parted, the southerner pulled back slightly; her eyes glistened in the dim light. She slowly ran her fingers along his neck, from ear to collarbone, absorbing every moment. Naruto shivered at this caress, and she felt his pulse quicken.
Then the girl rested her head on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. The shinobi carefully embraced her, and his fingers weightlessly played with her dark locks with their characteristic white streak.
They lay in silence, broken only by their breathing and the distant chirping of the first birds outside the window. They needed no words—this moment of absolute unity was enough.
"You know..." she said sleepily, lifting her head from his chest, but immediately dropping it back, "Rogue is just a nickname."
"What?" Naruto glanced down, watching as she struggled with drowsiness.
"Anna... Anna-Marie—that's my name..." her words were getting quieter. "I thought I'd buried that name..."
The young man, still completely alert after his daytime sleep, smiled, watching as her breathing became deeper. The white streak tickled his chin, but he was afraid to move.
The school was gradually waking up—a door slammed somewhere, the first footsteps in the corridor could be heard, the muffled voices of early risers. The visitor from another world lay motionless for another thirty minutes until his legs were completely numb. Besides, the wine he'd drunk was beginning to insistently remind him of itself.
Summoning all his ninja skills, he began the operation to free himself. Carefully lifted her head, placed a pillow underneath, and inch by inch slipped out from under the sleeping girl. Anna mumbled something in her sleep and tried to grab his t-shirt, but the shinobi managed to free himself without disturbing her peace. After covering the girl with a blanket, he almost ran to the bathroom, praying to all known gods to make it in time.
Rogue lay with her eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. Naruto emitted a special kind of heat that warmed to the very soul. She felt his fingers gently playing with her hair, and this simple touch sent waves of pleasure throughout her body.
The next moment she found herself naked, her skin burning from his touches. His hands were everywhere—caressing her breasts, sliding over her stomach, stroking her thighs. She arched toward each touch, unable to contain quiet moans. She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a deep, hungry kiss.
His lips left a burning trail, descending from her neck to her breast, and his hands... oh, his hands were doing something incredible with her body. Each touch responded with electrical discharges of pleasure, making her arch and tremble. She had never thought one could experience such sensations.
When his fingers began to slowly slide down her stomach, teasingly approaching the most sensitive spot, Rogue almost whimpered in anticipation. Her entire body tensed in expectation of that touch...
An insistent knock at the door pulled her from the embrace of her dream.
"Rogue? Are you there?" Kitty's voice sounded concerned. "It's already one in the afternoon, is everything okay?"
She sat up sharply in bed, breathing heavily and trying to understand where she was. Her own room. But how...? The last thing she remembered clearly was falling asleep on Naruto's chest in the living room.
The sheets were damp with sweat, her heart was racing like mad, and her body still burned from phantom touches. She ran a trembling hand over her face, trying to compose herself and suppress the disappointment that it was just a dream.
"Y-yes," her voice sounded hoarse. "Everything's fine, I just... overslept."
She fell back on the pillow, closing her eyes and trying to restore her breathing. Thoughts about how Naruto must have carefully carried her here while she slept caused a new wave of emotion.
Anna knew she needed to get up, but for a few more minutes, she lay motionless, allowing the last echoes of the dream to slowly dissolve in the morning light.
Kitty waited until Rogue opened the door. The sight of her disheveled friend with lips puffy from sleep and a dreamy gleam in her eyes spoke for itself.
"Coffee?" asked Shadowcat, extending a steaming mug.
Rogue nodded gratefully, letting her friend into the room. Kitty settled into the chair by the window, tucking her legs under her—a habit from her teenage years.
"I phased through the floor," she remarked casually, taking a sip from her cup. "When I was falling asleep during the movie. Woke up already one floor below."
"I'm sorry?" Rogue tried to hide a smile behind her mug.
"Yeah, sure." Kitty rolled her eyes. "Especially considering how conveniently it coincided with you two being left alone."
A pause hung in the air. Rogue averted her gaze, examining the pattern on the carpet, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away completely.
"Anna." Serious notes appeared in Kitty's voice. "I've seen how you look at him. And how he touches you, not fearing your power. It's... it's incredible."
Rogue shuddered. Katherine Pryde was the only one she allowed to call her by her real name.
"I can feel him, Kit," the southerner said quietly, and in her voice mingled delight and fear. "Just... feel. Without pain, without fear of causing harm. His skin is warm, a little rough on the palms..." She fell silent, realizing she was speaking aloud.
"Is it because of his chakra?" Kitty asked gently.
"Probably." Rogue clutched the mug with both hands, as if trying to warm herself. "I don't know how it works, but... Kit, I kissed him."
Shadowcat nearly choked on her coffee: "What?! And you're only telling me this now?"
"It was..." Rogue closed her eyes, remembering. "Perfect. And scary at the same time."
She fell silent, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. Kitty waited patiently, knowing when her friend needed time to gather her thoughts.
"Remember how old I was when my mutation manifested?" Rogue suddenly asked.
"Sixteen," Kitty nodded. "On your birthday..."
"And he's eighteen, Kit." Rogue laughed humorlessly. "I'm twenty-eight, yes, I look young because of Carol's powers, but half that time I couldn't touch anyone. And he... He's just starting to live."
Kitty snorted: "After what Sasuke showed us..." She shook her head. "This guy has experienced more than many people do in a lifetime. What I saw in those illusions... You know, the numbers on a passport sometimes mean nothing."
"Yes, but..."
"No buts." Kitty put down her cup and leaned forward. "You're not afraid of the age difference. You're afraid to allow yourself to be happy."
Rogue stood up abruptly and began pacing the room: "What if his protection disappears one day? If the chakra stops working? Or when he returns to his world..."
"Hey." Kitty turned her friend toward her. "Don't wind yourself up. Right now, you can feel. You can touch. Isn't that a miracle?"
"A miracle," Rogue echoed, and a slight smile appeared on her lips. "You know, I told him my real name."
"Wow." Kitty whistled. "Are you already in love?"
"Shut up." Rogue playfully pushed her friend, but didn't deny the obvious.
They returned to their seats, and Rogue took a large gulp of her now-cold coffee.
"By the way," Kitty smiled slyly, "is he a good kisser?"
"Kitty!"
"What? I'm just curious! You know, since I broke up with Bobby..."
"Out of my room!" laughed Rogue, launching a pillow at her friend, which predictably passed through her.
"Okay, okay, I'm leaving!" Kitty stood up, still chuckling. At the door, she turned around: "I'm happy for you, Anna. Really happy."
The door closed, and Rogue was already reaching for her lips, remembering yesterday's kiss, when Kitty's head literally poked through the door: "And by the way! Don't forget to use condoms, I can lend you some if you need them!" she winked mischievously.
"You!" Rogue threw a pillow at the door, but it only flew through the already disappeared head of her friend, whose muffled laughter still rang in the corridor for a long time.
Shaking her head and unable to contain a smile, Rogue again pressed her fingers to her lips. For the first time in many years, she felt truly alive.