Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I’m hungry,” was the first thing that came out of Naruto’s mouth when he woke up half dead and missing a limb in the Konohagakure hospital. “Where’s Sasuke?” followed promptly after.

Naruto, you’re up!

Yeah, he was up. And hungry. Where’s Sasuke?

Naruto, you lost your arm in the battle.

Okaaaay, Naruto knew that. It was pretty hard to not know that. He has a stump where an arm would be. Where’s Sasuke?

Naruto—

Where’s Sasuke?

Naruto waited, nobly suffering through the lines of friends and well-wishers and nurses and Sakura’s poking, prodding, praising, as well as jabbing him with needles. He’d answered a bazillion questions, been spoiled with ramen delivered straight from Ichiraku’s, smiled and laughed and nodded to everything thrown at him, all you’re a hero, look at you, all grown up, not a troublemaker anymore, eh?

Naruto agreeably sat through it all and spent the whole debacle thinking, I want to see Sasuke.

Night fell. Naruto bid his time, and then yawned obnoxiously and obviously enough for everybody to catch a clue and get out, wishing him goodnight and healthy recovery and we’ll come see you tomorrow and Naruto wondered if any of them, for even a second, had thought to go thank Sasuke as well. Not that it mattered now when it was better if they were both alone. As soon as he was alone, Naruto hopped out of bed to clumsily clamor through the sterile hospital halls up to Sasuke’s room.

Because Sasuke’s room was a floor above him the whole time. Probably a flimsy attempt at keeping them separated, but it couldn't do much to keep Naruto out. Putting Sasuke on the other side of the village wouldn’t have done much.

Naruto remembers. The door had been closed, but not locked. Windows thrown open, lights low, sheets half tucked around Sasuke’s waist. Naruto had slunk in and climbed into Sasuke’s bed, and Sasuke had just looked at him with distant, yet warm eyes. He threw his leg over Sasuke, fitted the scratchy hospital blankets over them both, and the two of them had chattered in low, conspiratorial whispers until the panicked nurses came busting in the next morning.

That first night had been a glimpse into a dream where they were kids again. Like they were on a team mission, murmuring to each other between their sleeping bags because Naruto couldn’t sleep and he wouldn’t dare wake Sakura or Kakashi to entertain him; but Sasuke would stay up and whisper to Naruto until he fell asleep. It felt like that. Achingly familiar. Achingly different. In the morning, Naruto had held onto Sasuke and wouldn’t let go, arguing with the nurses endlessly when they’d tried to draw him back to his own room.

And maybe Naruto would have been convinced, acquiesced, sulking back to his room, perhaps waiting a full two hours to return, but Sasuke wanted him there.

If Naruto was clingy, then Sasuke had hung onto him like a starving dog to soft flesh. He’d been reluctant, like he didn’t want to admit he wanted Naruto there, like it was better if they stayed apart, but Naruto knew Sasuke’s heart just as well as Sasuke knew his. Sasuke gripped Naruto’s wrist when he slid into bed with him. Naruto laid his head on Sasuke’s shoulder and Sasuke laid his head on top of Naruto’s. Sasuke never took what he wasn’t sure he wanted.

Stubbornly staying in Sasuke’s room ended up not being as drastic an effect as you might imagine. Any consequences it had were for the better, actually, because the flow of visitors narrowed down from every grateful, bored citizen in the village to only friends bold enough to visit Naruto and Sasuke. That’s how it should have been in the first place. They saved the world together, saved everybody in the village. Nobody that didn’t want to face Sasuke should have anything to say to Naruto

Naruto never got tired of hanging out with Sasuke, but he’d gotten tired of the hospital and its food, its smell, and he could tell when Sasuke started to tire of it too. The first course of action was pestering Sakura incessantly to clear Sasuke of his stay so they could go somewhere, anywhere else.

Just go home, Sakura had told him, exasperated. We can take care of him without you hovering.

Sakura’s suggestion hadn’t been without kindness, but it had lacked understanding. It frustrated Naruto. It frustrated Sasuke when Naruto relayed the conversation dramatically, gesturing with more energy than anybody in a hospital ought to have. It wasn’t about hovering or being worried or thinking Naruto would leave and the building would catch on fire and Sasuke would perish helplessly in the flames while Naruto was wiping his ass at home.

So she didn’t get it. That was fine.

It was fine. They had each other. Naruto hadn’t been wrong when he said that Sasuke talked so much more now that they couldn’t fight with each other. Sasuke didn’t shut the hell up. Not with Naruto, not with Sakura or Kakashi in the room, not with the nurses, and not at midnight when they were supposed to be sleeping, when Naruto had crept over to Sasuke’s room (the door was always unlocked) for the nth time. Naruto broke more rules in a three-week hospital stay than he did in a year of school at the academy, but it was necessary.

Sasuke was leaving as soon as he was well enough to travel, after all. That’s one of the first things he told Naruto, not in a hushed whisper, but bluntly and with an absolute certainty you couldn’t ignore. It was never about hovering. It was about having a time limit.

Naruto thought Sasuke should just get an eyepatch and he told Sasuke as much. A cool eyepatch, Naruto insisted. Sasuke could get it customized and it wouldn’t even be corny or anything like that because Sasuke actually had a reason to use it and it wasn’t like Sasuke didn’t make everything look epic anyways, goddamn his stupid face, and wouldn’t a flame design be cool? Or the Uchiha fan? Or a frog? The Uzumaki swirl?

But Sasuke had been unimpressed. They argued this all of Sasuke’s last week in the hospital, and then all the way to Naruto’s apartment, swinging their stumps at each other. They’d squabble uselessly while Naruto ungracefully wiggled his key around in the old lock of his front door, Sasuke shoving it open with his shoulder when the frame got stuck, and they’d bickered all while Sasuke judged the state of Naruto’s living room (not good) and his kitchen (even worse), but not his bedroom (god forbid).

Sasuke said that he didn’t want the eyepatch even if Naruto personally customized it, which Naruto was deeply, faux-offended over, mostly for the sake of being an annoyance at that point. Play yelling turned into play shoving turned into play fist-swinging turned into Naruto’s favorite cactus (the one with the little pink-purple flowers in the bright orange pot, the one he’s had for years) knocked over and spilling dry dirt all over the floor and ahaha you suck turned into oh fuck oh shit.

Fuck, Naruto had thought. It was gonna suck ass getting dirt out of his carpet.

“Fuck,” Sasuke had said, brow furrowing. “That’s your favorite cactus.”

And Naruto had whipped his head towards Sasuke and stared and stared and stared while Sasuke had begun calculating how to clean up with only one arm.

“How do you know that’s my favorite?” Naruto blurted out, right as Sasuke said, “Why the fuck are you just standing there?”

Sasuke looked up at Naruto from where he’d kneeled on the floor, already collecting the little pot with it’s little cactus spilling out. His hand cupped the soil and the cactus surely pricked his fingers. He fixed Naruto with the kind of look that said Naruto was the biggest idiot he’d ever known.

“You told me the last time I came over.” Sasuke shook his head at Naruto, like it was obvious. Like the last time he came over hadn’t been when they were thirteen.

Naruto remembered. He brought Sasuke over after practice, thrusting a water bottle and a saved, special event chocolate bar at his first guest his age ever. But he didn’t even remember telling Sasuke that cactus was his favorite, or how long Sasuke had stayed, or much else. Sasuke shouldn’t have remembered.

“Of course I remember,” Sasuke said, and his mouth pressed together like he was thinking. It was just the two of them and Naruto’s rattling air conditioner in the apartment. Sasuke’s words rang. He looked like he chose them carefully, like he knew the weight they had.

“I remember important things,” he added, frowning thoughtfully, and it had made Naruto’s mouth go cotton-dry and thick.

Sasuke shouldn’t have remembered. Sasuke did. Sasuke remembered important things.

They cleaned up the cactus.

Naruto was okay with Sasuke leaving. He was going to miss him, but he was okay with it, even if he was going to go insane.

“I’ll write,” Sasuke had said when they parted ways, and Naruto could already imagine himself going crazy waiting for Sasuke’s letters and going crazy reading them and he could imagine himself going crazy right this very minute second instant.

It was crazy. Naruto was happy. He was elated for Sasuke. He knew they’d both be fine. Naruto and Sasuke had gone back and forth over his departure in the hospital, Naruto swearing that Sasuke could do whatever he wanted, he didn’t have to leave, nobody would bother him in Konoha and get away with it, because even though he knew Sasuke was certain, he was Naruto, and Naruto had to try. And Sasuke had plainly said, I won’t be happy here.

Even Naruto couldn’t really argue with that. Wouldn’t argue with that.

He hadn’t said I’ll miss you when Sasuke left, because he’d told Sasuke that already. Naruto knew Sasuke remembered important things. So there wasn’t much to say at all, really.

A brief order of events:

Sasuke was gone. The world felt massive. Unfathomable and terrifying in its vastness. Sasuke could be anywhere, doing anything, and every moment Naruto spent without him felt like a breath, an opportunity wasted. There were so many false hopes and dead end leads and almosts that Naruto felt like he could pick the earth apart piece by piece and still not find Sasuke. Like he could peel the waves up from the ocean, uproot entire forests, leave no nation untangled and no mountain unturned and still, Sasuke would be out of reach. Naruto would always be chasing, chasing, until he spent even his dreams running, fingers outstretched.

Sasuke came back. The world remained immense. It was a world they’d saved together, as hard as it was to really understand; no longer a world that Sasuke was lost in, but the world that Naruto found Sasuke in. Naruto couldn’t be upset, or worried, or scared, because all he had to do was look over at Sasuke, and his chest would swell with a unique kind of happiness that couldn’t be replicated, a relief he felt deep in his bones.

Sasuke leaves again. Now, the world shrinks. Naruto sends Sasuke letters that always reach him because sometimes, Sasuke even writes back. If Naruto wanted to know where Sasuke was, he could just ask. He’d find out days or weeks later than when he’d wondered, but he could ask and Sasuke would write back in curt, concise words. Always towns and countries that Naruto could easily find on a map. The world that Naruto had been so desperate to pull apart had become innocuous. Reduced to the simple, clean lines of a map. He can trace Sasuke’s trail from Konoha if he wants to.

That makes him feel better. He didn’t have to worry. All Naruto had ever wanted was for Sasuke to be safe. It felt like for as long as Naruto had been chasing Sasuke, Sasuke had been chasing some ghost of obligation, his own inevitable end. Naruto used to startle awake at night, gripping the covers, the back of his neck slick with sweat. Scared. Always wondering if he’d been too late, if somewhere far away Sasuke had died under a bleak gray sky, and he hadn’t been able to save him. But he doesn’t have those dreams anymore. He doesn’t have to worry.

This is not to say that Naruto doesn’t get uneasy at times.

Here’s the thing: Naruto basically gets everything he should want in life. The world is small again. The world is Konoha, and with or without Sasuke, Naruto has his friends here. He gets his new arm and regularly receives therapy for it, until he’s not a fumbling, disastrous mess around the apartment.

Naruto knows that people like him and it’d matter if he was gone and when he goes to Ichiraku’s for a warm bowl of ramen, it’s never by himself. Sakura is still his best friend and Naruto knows her hospital shifts well enough to bother her as soon as she clocks out. Fellow jounin train with him and as the slow, solemn grieving period after the war fades with time, Naruto gets invited to more and more outings and group gatherings. Hinata sends him shy, furtive looks, and Naruto knows that’s something new he could chase if he wanted to.

The world is Konoha. People call Naruto ‘hero’ and strangers smile at him on the street. Shopkeepers press little wrapped gifts into his hands, expressing gratitude, and when children crowd close, parents didn’t pull them away with low, hushed murmurs.

Naruto starts to spend a tedious number of hours in the hokage’s office after a few months. Kakashi had pulled him aside one day and said, I suppose you know you’re my successor, and that meant Naruto’s days got busier, full of official things, not just regular ninja things.

Everything that Naruto thinks he’s ever worked for is guaranteed. Most people would probably agree that he’s earned it. The world is Konoha and Naruto doesn’t wake up every morning feeling like the world is pushing against him, like the days are fights to be won.

It’s scary. How he can have all this and it’s not quite enough. Naruto’s list of wants has always been grand but measurable. Become hokage. Eat ramen. Be respected and loved and strong. Beat Sasuke. Find Sasuke. Get stronger. Become hokage. Not easy to achieve, but easy to identify, put a name to.

But he can’t really put a lid on his want nowadays. He makes ramen in his apartment and watches the water on the stove boil, bubbling up like the constant cacophony of discontent in his chest. He slurps down cup ramen with the lights on, not flickering anymore because he can afford the power bill, and the TV plays a goofy comedy show. In moments like these, Naruto is alone, but he doesn’t have to be. He could get up right now and go find someone that wants him. It’s really his choice.

It’s not even close to being enough.

Naruto probably writes Sasuke more than anyone would ever want to read, but he’s firm in his belief that Sasuke doesn’t have a choice in this sort of thing.

Sakura’s taken over Naruto’s official best friend duties for the past several years, but unfortunately for Sasuke, the gods had confirmed that the two of them were fate/reincarnation/soulmate buddies or whatever and that was inescapable. Before they got their arms blown off, they had matching tattoos and everything. This meant that not a whole week after Sasuke left, when Naruto started writing his first rambling letter in shaky, almost unreadable handwriting he was convinced Sasuke had a cosmic obligation to read it and every one that came after.

Writing back was a separate story. Sasuke did write, because he promised to, but the letters were sparse and brief, and the only real reassurance Naruto has that Sasuke is actually reading his letters are that for the most part, his responses are filled with dry answers to Naruto’s neverending questions. He’s in the Land of Rain now. No, he isn’t eating, he’s letting himself starve to death. Yes, he’s doing fine with one arm; probably better than Naruto was doing with two. Yes, absolutely Naruto, Sasuke’s met a girl and married her on the road. He’s met seven different girls, actually, and all of them were princesses. They’re all pregnant. No, he doesn’t have a fucking eyepatch yet. How is Naruto’s cactus doing?

His favorite letter from Sasuke arrives in the heat of summer.

Naruto’s come expects Sasuke’s hawk to stick around for awhile. It’s been nearly a year since Sasuke left and Naruto feels like he sees more of Sasuke’s hawk than his frogs. It’s not Sasuke’s regular summon, but a smaller bird, one that likes to peck the shit out of Naruto’s fingers and soil his windowsill if he neglects to leave out sunflower seeds in humble offering. He’s told Sasuke that his hawk is a dirty extortionist and Naruto’s pretty sure he actively encourages it.

This time, though, Sasuke’s hawk swiftly drops the letter and takes off again, no lingering for treats or for rest. Despite how terribly Naruto’s handwriting had suffered post de-armification, Sasuke’s loose script remains frustratingly neat, and Naruto’s name is scrawled cleanly over the front like every other letter; nothing seems different than usual. Naruto watches the hawk take off, perplexed by the sudden departure, but he shrugs it off, opens the letter, and hollers so loud the neighbor bangs on the wall.

The letter is short, which isn’t out of the ordinary. What makes it Naruto’s favorite isn’t the length, but the contents. It holds the name of a town and an offer. I have business here for a few days if you’re interested, Sasuke’s written, and Naruto can imagine how smug Sasuke must have grinned, writing such a lavish invitation so casually. It’s not far from Konoha.

Four days travel for Naruto, Sasuke said. For Naruto specifically, because it’d be a much longer trip for anybody else, but Sasuke knows how fast Naruto can move when he really wants something, and in spite of the letter’s casual tone, Sasuke has to know that Naruto wants to see him. It’s an irresistible offer.

Naruto doesn’t need much of anyone’s permission for anything these days. Sure, he’s a Konoha nin, and he has his superiors that he’s meant to listen to, but Naruto hadn’t followed directions before saving the world and he sure as hell wasn’t starting after. Naruto stays in Konoha because it’s home and he goes on missions because that’s what he’s always done and if he follows orders it’s simply because he doesn’t mind or it’s more convenient than to kick up a fuss. After Naruto’s performance in the Fourth Shinobi World War, there probably isn’t a ninja on the continent who doesn’t know Naruto can do whatever he wants, and that’s been an odd, odd feeling.

Of course, Sasuke knows that. Naruto wrote about it.

Four days travel, according to the letter.

Naruto swears to make it in three.

Sasuke’s directions lead Naruto to a little seaside town, right off the Land of Fire. Naruto knows he’s there before he ever sees the shoreline. The salty scent of the ocean wafting through the fresh air hits reaches him from within the forest and by the time he breaks the treeline to the unmistakable sight of buildings rising over the coast, he can hear waves pushing against the shore.

There’d been no instructions for how to find Sasuke in the town, but Naruto doesn’t need any. He’s pretty much a tried and true Sasuke detector and this little port is easy mode; Sasuke’s chakra signature sticks out like a sore thumb. He might as well have a bright red arrow boasting, ‘NARUTO! I’M HERE!’ over his head for how easily Naruto finds him, sat down on a sharp outcropping of rocks next to town.

Naruto crashes into Sasuke like a tornado crashes into a hurricane. That is to say, he crashes into Sasuke and nearly propels the two of them over the edge of the rock and onto the beach, and before he knows it, he's been flipped and twisted into a flawless Uchiha patented headlock.

"Oh," Sasuke says, sounding surprised. It’s a sound Naruto would relish if Sasuke weren’t cutting off his air intake. "Naruto. You're early."

“Let the fuck go!” Naruto claws at Sasuke’s arm, the muscular crook of Sasuke’s bicep and forearm pinching his throat.

Sasuke relaxes his hold and Naruto stumbles out of it, only to be yanked by the back of his shirt to stand upright. Sasuke pats him on the back heavily and in some distant universe, it’d probably be comforting. “That’s what you get for sneaking up on me, moron.”

“How do you let me sneak up on you?”

“Your hair’s gotten longer,” Sasuke comments. He looks Naruto over, top to bottom, and seems pleased in that mild, cool way of his. Naruto squints at him disbelievingly.

“I said, how’d you let me sneak up on you?”

“I said your hair’s gotten longer.”

Naruto huffs. “Yeah, I know.” He adjusts his headband where his bangs have begun to grow over. The last time they’d seen each other, Naruto’s hair had been cut short, cropped close to his head. He thought it made him look more mature. Older. Sakura said it got rid of his babyface. But it grew back fast and he was already due for another trip to Sakura’s kitchen. “Sakura cut it for me last time. You think I should ask her to do it again?”

“Fuck no.” Sasuke’s nostrils flair like he’s got some particularly strong feelings about the subject. “It looked like you were balding. Like an old ass man.”

“What!” Naruto squawks, offended. He looked mature and handsome!

“It’s better now. Don’t cut it again.”

“Your hair looks like a duck’s ass!”

“You’ve been saying that since we were eight.” Sasuke finally, finally smiles. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You’re an asshole!” Naruto accuses, peeved. “I literally just got here! No ‘Hey Naruto, thanks for hauling ass here, good to see you, wow Naruto you look great, can I see your biceps, how’s Kurama doing—’”

“You do look good,” Sasuke interrupts. “Thank you for coming on short notice. I’m glad you’re here. It’s been too long.”

Naruto’s jaw snaps shut.

Sasuke’s grin is shit-eating when he turns towards town, already walking away. “That’s what I thought. Let’s get something to eat.”

Naruto hurries after him, shaking his head. “You’re not even gonna ask if I’m hungry?”

“You’re always hungry.”

“You’re not even gonna ask what I want to eat?”

“You want ramen,” Sasuke says. More day than night breaks over the horizon, but the warm orange haze of sunset falls over Sasuke like a handsome halo of light. Just from first impressions, he can tell that Sasuke’s healthy and in good shape, and annoyingly enough, as handsome as ever.

They take their time finding somewhere to eat, even though they already know what they want. It’s right around dinner time and they push through the crowds, shoulders pressed close, while Naruto details how he’d hauled ass even faster than Sasuke had expected. It’s an easy, casual greeting. They haven’t met in half a year, but there’s no initial awkwardness between them, just a comfortable dialogue to slip into. Best friends, separated by distance, meeting up for some fun. They fill their roles well.

Naruto can’t say it for fear of inflating an already massive ego, but Sasuke looks good, too. He teases Naruto in sharp, knowing jabs, and he smiles easily at Naruto’s jokes and brushes his hand against the small of Naruto’s back, guiding him through the crowd. In the wide streets of Konoha, Sasuke sometimes looked stern. Not sick or unhappy, but decidedly stiff, like a statue slipping back into stillness. He always held his head up proudly, but wouldn’t let Naruto drag him anywhere outside of the practice fields and hot springs. In Konoha, Sasuke always wanted to eat in.

But Naruto notices—because he looks, because he cares—that Sasuke feels relaxed here. He tells Sasuke that Sakura furiously swung a filthy bedpan at him when he pestered her too much during a double shift, about the long, aggravating hours of diplomacy lessons in the kage building. The long line of Sasuke’s throat when he throws his head back and laughs is dangerous.

The server girl does a literal double take when Sasuke trails into the nice restaurant behind Naruto, which is just as equally expected as it is exasperating. Naruto doesn’t know how Sasuke handles traveling so well when he draws eyes wherever he goes, but he supposes there’s some benefits to it— for example, the two of them get led to a table right away despite the liveliness of the restaurant. Naruto determines that this is zero percent luck and one hundred percent how three different waitresses are making googly eyes at Sasuke from the kitchen doors.

Naruto grumbles and Sasuke’s sloping, confident smile tells Naruto that he’s perfectly aware of the effect he has, that Sasuke’s assuredly grown into as a young adult, no longer a teen, but Naruto gets a menu in his hands and is too busy drooling over the laminated assortment of ramen to complain about it.

It's tantalizing. Naruto's own hunger always surprises him. The way it doesn't hit him until the food is only a few minutes off, just scarcely out of reach. He ends up bouncing his leg impatiently while they order. He’d been so caught up in his rush to see Sasuke, so preoccupied with his simultaneous relief and outrage when he reached him, that he hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

“This was a great idea,” Naruto proclaims after their ramen has been served to them, steaming hot. “Sasuke, you hear me? You still have good ideas!”

Sasuke blows over his ramen. “I am a genius.”

“So am I,” Naruto boasts, picking out a slice of pork.

Sasuke laughs, and it’s a little too sincere for Naruto to not be offended. He’s lucky though, because Naruto’s ramen smells too good for him to put off digging into it for Sasuke’s sake. They're silent as they inhale their meals; to Naruto, Sasuke's company makes great food even better. It's satisfying and delicious like ramen always is, and their chatter slowly starts up again after they've dulled their hunger.

“It’s been too long,” Naruto confesses an hour in, almost petulant. Naruto writes. Naruto scrawls letters full of meaningless anecdotes and facts about their friends, so that whenever Sasuke chooses to come visit, he won’t be left out or confused. Naruto had become content with that, but the heavy realization of how much he’s really missed Sasuke weighs down on him now. It feels like coming to meet Sasuke shouldn’t have been so easy.

Sasuke leans his cheek against his palm, grinning warmly. “Then why don’t you hunt me down?”

Naruto thinks about this. It’s not like anybody could stop him. Naruto could do whatever he wanted and so could Sasuke. They’d saved the world.

“I don’t want to bother you,” Naruto finally drags out. He twists the tip of the paper straw between his fingers. Behind them, a baby gurgles happily and a couple loudly praises their meal. It’s the first time Naruto and Sasuke have sat down with each other in what feels like forever, but the world moves on. “Like, what if you don’t miss me as much as I miss you, or whatever? I want you to do what makes you happy.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t know what?”

“That what I'm doing is making me happy.”

“Well,” Naruto says indulgently. “I have to miss you when you’re gone, you know. I’ll beat your ass if this isn’t making you happy.” He snaps his chopsticks at Sasuke.

Sasuke leans back in his chair, balancing on the two hind legs, the scrape of wood against the floor lost in the restaurant’s chatter. Childishly, with an urge similar to one Naruto might have felt when he was twelve, he hopes Sasuke falls backwards. “I’m figuring out what makes me happy.”

“Huh,” Naruto says. It’s a sound full of thought.

Naruto figures that’s pretty close to as much as he’s ever wanted for Sasuke. That kind of freedom. Lonesome as the words make him, they’re relieving. It’s stuff Naruto thinks he knows, but can’t be absolutely sure of. It’s not like Sasuke tells him these sorts of things in his letters.

Naruto swallows, feeling cool flecks of miso around his mouth. He ignores the container of napkins beside him. “You’ll tell me when you find out, right?”

Sasuke kicks him from under the table.

“Ow,” Naruto says, despite how it doesn’t hurt at all. He kicks Sasuke back, brow furrowing. Sasuke pushes his feet back against Naruto’s, and Naruto pushes back, their table shaking dangerously between them. “You always do that. Stop doing that!”

“Since when do I play footsie with you?” Sasuke tactfully retreats. He leans back in his seat again, balancing.

Naruto hooks his ankle around Sasuke’s and yanks. Sasuke’s chair clatters forward and Naruto laughs unrepentantly at the shock on his face.

“You always avoid my questions with something else,” Naruto corrects. “I’m not dumb. I notice when you do it.”

Sasuke pretends to mull this over. “Maybe take a clue then?” he says slowly, like he’s presenting Naruto with some real life-changing advice. Naruto points his chopsticks at him accusingly, a fleck of broth flinging onto Sasuke’s cheek.

“Is it that big of a deal? Just answer the question!”

“I forgot. Ask me again.” Sasuke actually looks like he could mean it. Naruto hates his perfect poker face.

“Tell me what makes you happy,” Naruto repeats hotly.

“I’ll give you three guesses when I’m ready.” Sasuke hooks his ankle with Naruto’s. Fair is fair, so Naruto prepares for the inevitable yank forward, or to the side, or kick to the shins, but it never comes. Just Sasuke, warm and solid, knocking his ankle against his gently. “But you’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

Sasuke holds Naruto loosely by the wrist. He runs just as hot as Naruto does, maybe warmer, and wandering around with Sasuke is such an interesting change of pace because for once Naruto’s the one getting dragged around.

The town bustles. It’s not just a sea-side town, but a civilian town, full of cheerful, exaggerated life, from the loudly curious tourists to the hollering shopkeepers advertising their wares and luring in hungry customers. The place isn’t particularly unique, but the lights gleam pretty and warm, the air clean and fresh, and Naruto keeps noticing, Sasuke looks more relaxed on the unfamiliar streets here than he ever did in Konoha. So it’s a nice place.

Naruto’s in a good mood. His belly is full of his favorite food and he’s excited to see the sea later on—not for a mission or anything, but just pure fun. He’s not sure if he’s ever travelled only for fun. There’s no purpose, no rush, nobody trying to kill him, and the two of them idly wander from shopfront to shopfront, all local, all pandering to tourists. Sometimes they move with the crowd and other times Sasuke, still holding Naruto’s wrist, will guide him towards a little store he wants to poke his head into.

“Hey, hey. What business did you have in this town?”

Sasuke glances at Naruto from the corner of his eye, questioning.

“You had business,” Naruto repeats, recalling the letter. “You said you had stuff to do around here, and that’s why you were in town. What’d you gotta do? Take out any bad guys?”

Sasuke barks out a laugh. “You think that’s what I do all the time?”

Naruto’s nose scrunches. He knows Sasuke travels around, but it’s not like he’s ever imagined him sight-seeing for fun. Naruto always assumed that wherever Sasuke went, there was some invisible purpose guiding him, even if Naruto didn’t get to know what it was.

But oh, okay, maybe not.

“Then what’re you doing here?”

“Spending time with you. Do you want ice cream?”

“Of course I want ice cream,” Naruto says, offended. He glances up. Dusk has nearly come to an end, the moon a bright and cheerful coin in the sky. They’d passed by plenty of food stalls boasting tempting summer treats, but ice cream sounds like it’ll hit the spot. Sasuke’s best ideas are always about food.

Sasuke digs through his pockets to give Naruto money. It’s entirely unnecessary. He’s been generous enough after paying for their dinner and it’s not like Naruto’s lacking in funds— he’d brought his lucky frog-cash purse along, absolutely filled to burst, for the sole purpose of irresponsibly spending money with Sasuke. But Naruto’s never turned down free food before and he’s not about to start now.

Green tea ice cream, Sasuke instructs sternly, three scoops. It’s a warm, busy evening, and the line is ridiculously long, but it gives Naruto plenty of time to decide what flavor of ice cream he wants. Sasuke’s made it all the more difficult by choosing a disgusting flavor; it’s Naruto’s god-given responsibility to pick out a cone regular humans could respect.

When Naruto returns with an extravagant four scoop, quadruple flavor ice cream cone for himself and an ugly green cone for his best friend, there’s a girl. With Sasuke. Batting her eyelashes and everything.

Naruto’s not surprised. Even with his unkempt appearance, with his array of fabrics and really-clearly-on-purpose bang covering his right eye, Sasuke’s disastrously handsome. For all the ogling Sasuke had gotten while they’d had dinner, it was probably a miracle that nobody had approached him sooner.

Naruto watches, a sour taste forming in the back of his mouth. The ice cream starts to melt, but he doesn’t pay attention to the sticky mess on his fingertips. He watches the girl smile at Sasuke, all sharp and pretty like seaglass, and Sasuke turns his head away carelessly, searching the crowd. He catches Naruto’s eye and his flat expression curves into a smile.

Naruto blinks at the fondness in the look, relaxing instinctively, and the tightness of his expression smooths away. Naruto hadn’t even realized he’d been scowling.

Sasuke jerks his thumb in Naruto’s direction, mouths something Naruto can’t hear, as badly as he would like to, and the girl swivels to look at Naruto as well. But Sasuke’s already moving past her, blocking Naruto’s view from the stranger, and she might as well not exist.

When Sasuke is within reach, Naruto thrusts his ice cream at him, nearly smearing it all over his chest. Sasuke snatches it up before Naruto can make a mess and immediately grimaces at the sticky rivulets trailing down the cone.

“As popular as ever, huh,” Naruto says, completely neutral. His tone entirely undecipherable, an unsolvable mystery. Naruto is a closed book. Naruto is a closed book tightly wrapped with thick metal chains written in a lost, ancient language.

“Stop being jealous,” Sasuke says, licking the drops of ice cream from the cone. It’s distressingly distracting. Naruto’s not distraught and he’s especially not jealous. “It’s all over your face. You look constipated. Where’s my change?”

“I’m not jealous,” Naruto snaps. Not paying attention and on auto-pilot, he takes a bite out of his ice cream and jolts at the sudden cold, shouting out.

He keeps Sasuke’s goddamn change.

It’s late when they finally meander over to the beach, though it’s probably what Naruto’s been most excited to see. It’s not as packed as it had been earlier that day, the lively crowds of tourists and civilians slowly ebbing away with nightfall. The beach is left with a scattering of smaller, private groups clustering along the shoreline. Naruto spots a bonfire, happy strangers crowded around, and has to resist the urge to drag Sasuke towards it.

Instead, they find themselves drawn to the tourist trap shops in front of the pier, all boasting a unique array of souvenirs and goodies and services for visitors. They easily agree that they’re both full, so the snack stalls get ignored, but Naruto eagerly pulls them into a fortune-teller’s shop boasting insight to one’s destiny.

Glitter gleams on the walls and flowing, purple fabric hangs from the ceiling, separating the fortune teller’s room from the rest of the shop. It’s actually all very enigmatic and mysterious.

Inside, Naruto sits down across from the fortune-teller and she grasps his hand with great ceremony. The woman’s gaze flickers to Sasuke, standing just outside the curtain, and back to Naruto, knowing.

“Good fortune will come your way as long as you wait and follow your heart,” the woman intones sagely. Naruto leans in, enthralled. Her nail traces the crease of his palm. “You can feel it on the horizon too, can’t you?”

It’s clearly all optimistic bullshit, but then the woman pulls out a deck of tarot cards next, and Naruto’s nonetheless delighted. Sasuke has to drag him out by the neck of his shirt after the third round of romantic platitudes.

Sasuke picks the next shop and it’s suited better for the both of them. A little mom-n-pop store, full of sweet knick-knacks and glasswork pieces. They spend the better half of an hour wandering between the shelves, poking at wooden toys and carefully tilting glass animals until they catch the dim store light just right, and the older man at the register watches them with kind amusement. He tells them that all of the shop’s inventory is unique, made in town by skilled workers who bring them by to be sold, and Naruto and Sasuke listen politely.

Naruto leaves with a small glass dolphin in tow. It’s smooth and clear, tinted turquoise, tail curled and head thrown back with joy. It’ll make a good present for Iruka-sensei, who’s birthday isn’t for a few solid months, but now Naruto’s gotten him a present so he won’t forget later. It’s called thinking ahead and is pretty ingenious if you ask Naruto, which Sasuke doesn’t, but Naruto tells him so anyway.

“Why do you need to wait until his birthday to give it to him? Don’t you just want to keep it for yourself?” Sasuke asks.

Naruto sniffs at the suggestion that he’d be so easily swayed by any gleaming bauble. Sure, it’s aesthetically pleasing, with the dolphin’s little, intelligent eyes and cute smile, the glass limned with green, catching and throwing streaks of light. A clear wave crests underneath for it to burst out of, the careful craftsmanship of the souvenir evident even to Naruto’s careless gaze. And sure, Naruto might enjoy looking at it on his window sill until Iruka-sensei’s birthday next year, and sure, it might be a nice memory of his little trip here with Sasuke, but it wasn’t for himself.

It was also the only dolphin left, which had no bearing on Naruto’s purchase. Nope. Not at all. None.

“You look fucking constipated again.”

“I want another one,” Naruto admits despairingly. “Sasuke. It’s so cute.”

“Wait for me,” Sasuke says, ducking back into the shop. Naruto immediately turns to follow, but Sasuke’s expecting that and shoots Naruto a sharp glance from over his shoulder, freezing him in place.

Naruto settles for squinting through the front window, breath fogging up the glass. Sasuke ducks between the shelves like he knows Naruto’s watching him, and Naruto doesn’t get what all the secrecy is about, but Sasuke’s making whatever he’s purchasing inside seem like a covert anbu operation. He even stands in front of the register as if to purposefully block Naruto’s view and Naruto can’t help but think that he’s being aggravating on purpose.

The bell dings when Sasuke pulls the door open, stepping into place next to Naruto wordlessly.

“Did you get me something?” Naruto moves to grab at Sasuke’s spoils, but frowns when he sees that he isn’t carrying anything. Sasuke was definitely forking over some dough, though.

“What? Hey, hey, they didn’t have any more dolphins, right? What’d you do in there?”

“Mind your business,” Sasuke says vaguely. Naruto opens his mouth again, but Sasuke cuts him off. “I’m not avoiding your question. I’m telling you you’ll find out later.”

“Just tell me now!”

“It’s a surprise for your birthday,” Sasuke drawls, his mouth drawing into a smug smile. He knocks his shoulder against Naruto’s, steering him away from the shops and out towards the water. “I can’t take a page from your book?”

Naruto hates this guy. His birthday isn’t for months. Sasuke’s birthday is closer.

“Just wait,” Sasuke parrots, all mocking, “and good fortune will come your way.”

Naruto watches the waves beneath him. His bare feet dangle over the edge of the pier and the waves rise slowly, cresting and falling in a steady rhythm. It’s wholly night now and the ocean reflects the sky’s dark and impossible depth. Little silver fish fly through the water in tiny schools, scraps of moonlight glancing off of them.

Sasuke always steps so softly. Naruto remembers being envious when they were kids. When they walked through hallways together, Naruto’s steps were so loud and clumsy, he could hardly ever sneak up on anybody—you could tell he was coming a mile away. But Sasuke knew how to be soundless, even when he wasn’t being ninja stealthy. It used to drive Naruto crazy with jealousy, how Sasuke outclassed him at the simplest of things.

Now, though, he barely starts when Sasuke stops behind him, pressing a cool can against his cheek. It isn’t a completely silent approach this time. Even Sasuke can’t silence the creak of the aging pier beneath him.

“Where’s yours?” Naruto immediately cracks it open with a sharp hiss. He doesn’t read the label before taking a swig, and scrunches his nose at the overly sweet strawberry flavor. Did Sasuke get this for Naruto or himself?

“I only have one arm,” Sasuke huffs. He shifts, standing close enough for his knee to brush against Naruto’s shoulder. Naruto scoffs loudly. Sasuke Uchiha could stand to carry two cans of soda if he really wanted to.

“Gee, wonder who’s fault that is.”

“Yeah, I wonder. You gotta help me find the bastard that took my arm off, Naruto.”

“Gee,” Naruto says obnoxiously, flapping his right elbow at his side, “where’d I get this brand spankin’ new, shiny, fleshy arm from?”

“From the state,” Sasuke responds dryly.

“From Granny!”

“Gee, sorry. The head of state,” Sasuke corrects and Naruto scoffs again, swallowing a swig of the soda. He wants to tell Sasuke that Granny Tsunade isn’t even kage anymore, but that feels counterproductive and defensive, and it’s not like Naruto doesn’t know that Sasuke’s right. Aggravatingly, he’s very rarely wrong. Naruto swishes the soda in his mouth.

“Naruto.”

“Sasuke?”

Sasuke stares out at the ocean quietly. Impatient, Naruto repeats his name.

“Why do you write so much?”

“Huh?”

“The letters,” Sasuke clarifies. He’s not looking at Naruto, but out towards the horizon, the glittering ocean. “They’re long as hell. How long does it take you to write them?”

“I’unno. Depends. You really read them?”

Sasuke’s eyes flicker down at him for just a moment. “Every word.”

Naruto mulls that over, oddly satisfied. He’d written all those long-winded letters, and he’d thought that Sasuke ought to read them, would have kicked up a fuss if Sasuke said he didn’t, and yet.

That was unfair of him, Naruto scolds himself. He should have more faith in Sasuke.

“I’d come back if you really wanted me to,” Sasuke says. It’s not quite soft, not quite hard. He says it like a fact. Sasuke’s probably thinking of Naruto’s letters, life bursting off the pages. Naruto’s unpolluted feelings poured into them. He always lets Sasuke know he’s missed.

The invitation hangs between them, tempting in it’s open-endedness. Just ask.

A stiff ocean breeze ruffles Naruto’s hair and when he glances up, he catches a glimpse of Sasuke’s rinnegan before his hair falls back into place. He still looks out at the sea, away from Naruto.

“I know why you don’t like being in Konoha.” Naruto gnaws on the inside of his cheek. If he does it long enough, the taste starts to become metallic and sharp. “I’m not asking you to come back. Unless you just wanna, but I know you don’t, so don’t pretend you do because I know when you’re lying.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I have Sasuke-senses,” Naruto tells Sasuke gravely, kicking his feet over the edge. He ruins it by laughing. “They tingle whenever you lie.”

Sasuke snorts, knocks his knuckles into Naruto's hair playfully. Naruto throws his head to the side dramatically as if Sasuke had punched him, laughing even harder at his own theatrics.

“You like it there? Even after everything?”

Naruto knows what Sasuke means. “Yeah! I mean, I wanna see Konoha better, and it feels good watching it happen. It doesn’t have to be the way it used to be. I don’t hold a grudge or anything.” Naruto rolls the cuffs of his pants higher up, exposing the skin of his calves. The air over the ocean feels good. “So I like being there. You get it?”

“Sure I do,” Sasuke says easily, dropping down next to Naruto. “But that’s not my job. I don’t worry about it. I don’t owe them that.”

Of course Sasuke doesn’t. Of course Sasuke knows that. Sasuke’s never felt any obligation towards the village other than the acknowledgement of the hard truth that there were council members that had earned the sharp edge of his blade. But Naruto’s never felt anything as keen as misplaced responsibility.

“You know you don’t owe them either, right.” Sasuke’s tone is casual, but he slides a sharp glance over to Naruto. The words aren’t nearly as light as he wants them to seem.

“I know,” Naruto says and it’s honest. “But it’d be cool if it was me. Changing stuff. Fixing the village. Like, I’ve always wanted it, y’know? Being hokage. I told anybody who listened that I would and I’d change everything.”

“You told people that didn’t want to listen, too.”

“Right?” Naruto laughs. “Literally yelled it from the rooftops. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if I didn’t pull through now?”

A beat of silence.

“Not really,” Sasuke says, but it comes too late, and there’s something awkward in the air now. “It’s called growing up. You can do what you want. Nobody said you had to become hokage.”

“I did!”

“Are you the boss of you?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“Are you stupid? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Man,” Naruto complains, “you’re a real untrustworthy guy.”

Sasuke’s smile is all teeth. “So I’ve heard.”

“Fucker. You know I'm joking.” Naruto goes to press the can against Sasuke’s cheek, but Sasuke intercepts him, grabbing it to take a sip for himself. Surprisingly, he doesn’t flinch at the syrupy taste. Naruto feels like he’s never going to get it off his tongue.

Naruto drops down onto the ocean, the soles of his feet glowing with chakra. It’d be easy to release a burst of chakra large enough to still the water, but he doesn’t. He likes the way he can feel the water moving under him, how he rises and sinks with it. Naruto’s stood on water a hundred times, a thousand, but this sort of thing never gets old, and he skips backwards, kicking up a spray of seawater.

When Naruto crouches down and dips his fingers under the shimmering water, it’s still warm from the hot sun. He cups his hands together and lifts them up towards Sasuke, water leaking out of the cracks between his fingers.

“You come try it!” Naruto grins up at Sasuke, spreading his arms open invitingly. His feet rock with the tide, and he nearly trips stepping backwards over a wave, arms windmilling when he has to catch his balance.

Above him, Sasuke leans over the edge of the pier to watch. Naruto hears him laugh and even with his face draped in shadow, he can imagine Sasuke’s cheshire grin, eyes crinkling with mirth. Looking up like this, Naruto only sees Sasuke’s silhouette, the stars hanging in the sky over his head. The sky is so clear Naruto could count the constellations around Sasuke, little twinkling dots in a dark blanket.

He feels Sasuke smiling at him. Naruto would pluck every star from the heavens to keep that feeling.

“Get down here!” Naruto hollers again. He knows Sasuke wants to come down and only isn’t because he wants him to. Because Naruto’s the knucklehead, but nobody remembers how hard-headed Sasuke likes to be. Below him, a fish brushes against the bottom of his foot, and the scaly texture makes Naruto jump three vertical from surprise.

“No.”

“Am I going to have to make you?” Naruto threatens.

Sasuke’s smile spreads tauntingly. “Can you?”

No, Naruto couldn’t.

This was, at first, from a distinct lack of trying. Naruto had been in the middle of firing up a rasengan (drastic times calling for drastic measures) when Sasuke had calmly offered that they instead head to the shore and look for seashells to take home. They could wait until tomorrow, Sasuke coaxed, but the morning rush of tourists might take even more of the good ones that had been snatched up already. It was a busy beach, after all.

Naruto liked seashells because of the swirl patterns, how they reminded him of himself. Naruto felt like Sasuke knew this. He accepted the manipulation with compromise.

The compromise was Naruto sending a couple of clones to frolic in the water in his stead. Sasuke laughed at him, but Naruto thought it was a good idea; the clones would have fun, and Naruto could stay by Sasuke while they dug shells out of the smooth, gleaming sand, Naruto getting all the fun when the clones dissolved.

Unfortunately, the clones, who fully understood that they were meant to have all fun with zero consequence, had done more than just run over the waves. They’d dunked themselves into the water, made a big show of practically drowning one another, and Naruto had grown so envious he’d decided that he’d jump in, too, and simply drag Sasuke in with him.

It hadn’t worked like that.

Naruto peers around the undistinguished lobby curiously while Sasuke gets them their room. The innkeeper doesn’t spare Naruto a wayward glance. He figures that if you’re running a beachfront inn you don’t really have to bother spritzing up your place, and that soaking wet patrons leaving puddles on your floor isn’t all that uncommon either.

If Sasuke got here before him, he should have a room already, Naruto thinks while Sasuke gets their key. He must have been camping outside before Naruto arrived. This only confirms what Naruto already knows, deep down in heart: Sasuke must truly, actually enjoy living in the wilderness, eating worms and sleeping in the dirt and wiping his ass with leaves. It’s a sad realization, one that will certainly horrify Sakura when Naruto solemnly relays the information later on, but he’s only thankful that Sasuke hasn’t tried to convince Naruto to sleep on the beach or something equally affronting.

Sasuke hums all the way up the stairs. Despite having to deal with a soaked Naruto after dragging him dripping and sneezing from the ocean, he was in a magnanimously good mood. This is surely because he’d made a great deal of effort with an even greater number of shadow clones to drag Sasuke into the water with him, and failed miserably. Sasuke had evaded every shadow clone with smug ease. Because some things will never change, there’s nothing Sasuke likes more than getting one over Naruto.

It’s a good room, but Naruto thinks any place where you don’t have to shoulder the door open is decent. Sasuke riffles around the bathroom while Naruto stands in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do with himself. The bandages on his arm are wet, too, in need of changing—another thing he didn’t think of when he jumped into the sea. But at least his shoes aren’t wet.

One moment, Naruto can see, and the next everything is dark. It takes a moment of wild flailing for him to realize that Sasuke has come up behind him to cover his head with a towel, rubbing Naruto’s head dry with definitely more force than absolutely necessary. That’s what he thought Sasuke was doing the first five seconds, but in fact, Naruto’s skull is getting yanked around like a slingshot and it feels a lot more like a murder attempt than Sasuke drying his hair off for him.

“Oi, oi, hey!” Sasuke grabs him by the shoulder and shoves him gently-harshly-firmly. Naruto sits down when the back of his knees hit the bed, a little dizzy from Sasuke’s shenanigans, and jerks the towel away to clear his vision.

He peers up. Sasuke’s standing in front of him with a slight grin. He drops his hand on top of Naruto’s head and carries on with his sorry excuse of hair drying. Rough, because Sasuke knows he doesn’t have to be gentle, because he knows Naruto likes the playful affection. Naruto sticks his tongue out in defiance but otherwise hunches his shoulders forward, giving in to the ‘help.’

“I’m not calling Sakura if you get sick,” Sasuke says. He finally drops the towel onto the bed carelessly and picks up a roll of bandages that Naruto didn’t know he had. He hadn’t asked him to grab any. He’s still wearing his shirt, soaked and clinging to his chest with every breath. The smell of the ocean clings, too, filling the room.

“Jinchuuriki don’t get sick.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re an idiot?”

“Maybe that’s why you don’t get sick, yeah.”

“Sure I get sick,” Sasuke says, dramatic and long-suffering, as if diseased by Naruto’s glowing, priceless company. “Sick of you.”

Naruto makes a move to get up, rising towards the door. “Hey, I’ll leave you alone then. For-eveeeeeeeeeer.”

“Oi,” Sasuke says, and Naruto’s suddenly weightless, a moment that lasts for half a second before he finds himself staring up at the ceiling, flat on his back. The bed squeaks in protest beneath him. Sasuke’s hand remains pressed down on his chest from where he’d pushed Naruto down, away from the door.

“There’s only one bed,” he blurts out, finally noticing the state of the room’s furniture.

“They were out of doubles,” Sasuke responds easily, but a little too quick, like he’d been waiting for Naruto to bring it up. Naruto tries to rise up from the bed to give Sasuke his classic ’hey, that was suspicious, and I know it was suspicious so now you know I know’ look, but Sasuke pushes him back down before Naruto can get a good scrutiny in, only adding to the suspicion.

“Really?” Naruto asks doubtfully. He doesn’t know why. It’s summer, and there are clearly dozens of tourists and short-time visitors like themselves, so it actually makes one hundred percent perfect sense that the inn was out of doubles. But this is Sasuke, and Naruto has Sasuke-senses, and they’re tingling.

“You can sleep on the floor if it bothers you,” Sasuke says curtly, dropping a pillow over Naruto’s face. To Naruto’s surprise, there’s no immediate smothering attempt. “You sure as hell didn’t mind when you were living in my hospital room.”

From under the pillow, Naruto’s nose scrunches. “You wanted me there, though.”

Sasuke unrolls the bandages and Naruto holds his arm up obediently. He throws his other arm out across the bed, and eagle-spreads his legs, not caring one bit that he’s getting the covers (that he and Sasuke will share) damp. His nose tickles.

“I don’t get sick,” Sasuke says, rolling the tape over Naruto’s arm in good, clean stripes, “because I don’t go running into the sea at night.”

Naruto sneezes and almost snaps his neck with the force of it.

“Yeah.” Sasuke smiles that fond crinkly eyed smile from the pier, no longer obscured by shadow. Naruto’s heart hopelessly twists in his chest. “Just like that.”

Sasuke makes Naruto’s world huge. Sasuke opens the world up, makes it limitless and vast and wide and Naruto looks at Sasuke and feels an expansive, clear sky. The infinite blue ocean, waiting for Naruto to dive and never, ever reach the bottom.

Naruto likes Sasuke. Naruto’s always liked Sasuke, and without any conscious effort, he’s started to accept this. He’s always been preoccupied with Sasuke in ways he couldn’t really understand, which was aggravating, but not as aggravating as when Naruto thought Sasuke wasn’t at all preoccupied with him. He knows better now, but when Sasuke smiles at him, it makes it easier to believe.

Knowing and feeling things are different. Naruto knows that Sasuke feels stuff about him, that Sasuke really, really likes him, Sasuke would die and kill and live for him, and Naruto would do all of that for Sasuke too, a thousand, million, gazillion times over, but knowing isn’t the same as feeling. Distance and time blur things. They breed uncertainty, put a misty haze over what should be crystal clear.

“...we ate, got ice cream, went to the beach, you bought shit you didn’t need, made a mess of the room,” Sasuke lists off methodically. He’s finished bandaging Naruto’s arm while running his mouth, and from what Naruto can tell, just summarizing the tail end of their day while he spaced out. Sasuke still talks a fucking lot, Naruto’s finding out. “What the hell are we going to do tomorrow?”

“We talked about our deep stuff too,” Naruto reminds him absently. “I asked you if you were happy and you told me I was dumb for wanting to fix the village and I told you I didn’t care and whatever. And I jumped into the ocean.”

Sasuke grimaces. “That’s right. So that’s everything on the list.”

Naruto sits up. Sasuke hadn’t been able to wrap the bandage between his fingers and he grabs the tape to finish himself, sitting criss-cross. “Do you really have a list?”

“In my head,” Sasuke replies easily and Naruto is uneasy when he can’t figure out if Sasuke’s joking or not.

Sasuke plops down on the edge of the bed to watch Naruto finish with the bandages. There’s no reason for Sasuke to have put them on him, or for Naruto to keep putting them on because he hasn’t even showered yet, and it’s not like he’s going to sleep with sand clinging between every crevice of his body, but he circles the tape around his fingers neatly nonetheless. Sasuke started, so Naruto will finish.

Naruto thinks. About their day, mostly. About looking up at Sasuke, the stars hanging around his head like a speckled curtain. About Sasuke’s warm, crinkly-eyed smile. About the difference between knowing and feeling things. He considers the glass sharp clarity in his chest, the acute realization that after this trip, there’s no telling when he’ll see Sasuke again.

Months? Another year? Years and years of letters, of writing out his feelings and letting what he knows become dim and clouded again?

“Hey, hey,” Naruto says. He’s staring down at his fingers, laced together in his lap. His voice comes out tighter than he intends. “Oi, Sasuke.”

“Yeah?”

“I have an idea for tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

"Let's go on a date."

Sasuke, who is already sitting very still, stops breathing.

Naruto swallows. “That’s what we can do tomorrow. If you want. Let’s go on a date. It’s a really nice town, and we didn’t check out everything or go swimming properly, and I’ll pay for our stuff tomorrow, so, if you want, let’s—”

“We just went on a date,” Sasuke interrupts. Naruto’s head snaps to look up at him.

His mouth falls open, but no words come out.

“This was a date,” Sasuke repeats. “I just took you on a date.”

“What,” Naruto says helplessly. Sasuke makes the world very big. That world is now spinning, tipping on its axis, making Naruto dizzy. “No, you didn’t. How was that a date? You didn’t say it was a date.”

“Because it was a date.”

“How was it a date? It was a date but you didn’t tell me?”

Sasuke shrugs. His mouth is pressed into a flat line, and he looks embarrassed, still not meeting Naruto’s gaze, but he doesn’t seem apologetic at all. “I thought I’d tell you next time.”

“Are you fuckin’ making fun of me?” If Naruto sounds angry, let him. Sasuke’s joked with him before, made some cutting jabs, not all of them bouncing off harmlessly, but he’s never been mean. When Sasuke was trying to literally kill Naruto, he’d been straightforward and direct, unkind and hard, but never mean. Not like this.

“If you don’t want to, just say it,” Naruto says, voice rising. “Don’t make fun of me. What the fuck?”

“I’m not making fun of you.”

“Sasuke, man, fuck you—”

“Naruto,” Sasuke says, a low warning, “shut the fuck up. I’m not fucking making fun of you.”

Naruto shuts up. He’s breathing hard, nails biting into the calloused flesh of his palm. Sasuke’s staring at him hard too, expression all sharp and serious, and he’s not kidding, Naruto knows Sasuke like the back of his hand, Sasuke’s not kidding.

“I meant for today to be a date,” Sasuke persists, eyes dark, intense. “Why the fuck would I lie?”

It’s not like Naruto couldn’t, theoretically, understand the logic. He’d lived by that sort of ambitious thinking for most of his life; easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. Get away with the deed, first and foremost. But this is baffling and Naruto really can’t believe that Sasuke got a one-up on him like this, if this is a one-up.

“Explain to me how it was a date,” Naruto demands, facing Sasuke directly.

“We held hands,” Sasuke begins.

“You held my wrist because the crowd was big! And not even for that long!”

“I only have one hand, Naruto. I have to do other things with it.”

Naruto throws his arms up and nearly knocks Sasuke in the face on the upward swing. “That’s your fault!” he exclaims. “I told you to let Granny give you another one!”

“Will you shut up? I invited you to a lovely seaside town in the middle of summer.”

“You had business here!”

“You are the business,” Sasuke snaps and it doesn’t make it sound like an admission, but there's a barely there, barely noticeable waver to his voice when he says this. “I don’t have shit to do here, Naruto. I got here a few hours before you did. It just looked like a place you’d like on the map. That’s why I didn’t have a room for us yet.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Naruto says, the realization slipping out feather-soft.

“I bought you ramen and ice cream, and asked the shopkeeper to get you another glass dolphin—”

“YOU WHAT!” Naruto shrieks. If there’s anybody in the neighboring room, Naruto is surely hated.

“Listen,” Sasuke tells Naruto intently. His face gets serious for a second, and Naruto’s reminded, distressingly, of how handsome Sasuke is. “Have you ever been on a date before?”

“Yes,” Naruto says hotly. No. He took Sakura out to eat once, and it was supposed to be a date, but Naruto forgot his wallet and Sakura had paid and politely told Naruto he’d run any girl with half a molecule of common sense off with his stupidity, so Naruto didn’t like to count that. “You asked for another dolphin!?”

“So you should know,” Sasuke says patiently, like Naruto’s the one being unreasonable, still ignoring his question, “that we just went on a date.”

“How was it a date if you didn’t tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?” Naruto demands. “Even if we did all that, how does it count if I didn’t know?”

“I’m shy,” Sasuke deadpans. Naruto gapes.

“The fuck you are!”

Sasuke has the gall to laugh at him. “Hey, you’re hurting my feelings.”

“The fuck I am!”

“Asking the person you like out on a date is hard, Naruto,” Sasuke explains. He laughs harder, but a funny ‘haha’ laugh, a ‘can’t believe this is happening’ laugh. “Asking you out on a date felt like it could start another war.”

“Sasuke,” Naruto whines. He can’t really argue with that. He pinches the skin of his lip between two fingers, twisting flesh. He thinks Sasuke gives him nervous habits. He thinks Sasuke gives him mental illness. Whatever Sakura calls it. “Okay. Sure. Sure. Sure!”

“Do you want it to be a date?”

Isn’t that the goddamn question. Naruto’s face creases with exasperation. “No! Wait, no, yeah—yeah, but, like, not like this!”

Sasuke leans in. He doesn’t look unsure, because Sasuke never looks unsure, or nervous, or meek, but there’s a frayed appearance to his expression right now, like he’s lost some control. He breathes in, though, and his voice comes out steely. “You just asked me out. So why not? What was wrong with today?”

“Uh.” Naruto keeps picking at his lip. He’s not sure how to say this. Well, actually, he knows how to say it just fine, he just doesn’t know if he wants to say it, all petulant and childish, while Sasuke looks at him steady and honest, and also challenging, like he really wants to know where the fault was in his date-not-date.

Sasuke grabs Naruto’s face in his hand, makes Naruto look right up at him, even as he tries to lean back nervously, avoiding his persistent gaze. “Uh?” Sasuke leans in. His hold is gentle and his hand is warm. When his thumb brushes against Naruto’s cheek, something scalding and wide opens up beneath him.

“It’s not really romantic,” Naruto says eventually. Flushed. “Like, as a first date. I didn’t know. I would have done stuff different.”

Sasuke doesn’t look convinced. Naruto’s blood pounds in his head. He tries to untangle his words from his throat. “A date is different! How you act and stuff, and the stuff you do. And, and... How you do it? We weren’t being, like, y’know, I wasn’t—”

He wouldn’t have crashed into Sasuke to be funny, or made Sasuke pay for their ramen, or stood and made ugly faces at a girl flirting with Sasuke. He wouldn’t have been annoying on purpose or made Sasuke sit through the fortune teller. Naruto would have been real romantic. He’d have held Sasuke’s hand for real, laced their fingers together, and kissed him on the pier instead of jumping into the water and trying to drag him in like a little kid. They have a lot of memories—a lot of bad, crazy, chaotic memories, more than two twenty year old’s should have, and—

Naruto lifts his chin up, Sasuke’s grasp falling away. “I would’ve made it really nice, ‘s all,” he mutters.

Sasuke looks at him carefully. Like he’s thinking really hard.

"I read your letters," Sasuke says.

Naruto’s expression blanks. "What?"

“I told you I read your letters. They weren’t subtle at all.” Sasuke’s mouth twists. He finally looks embarrassed, though Naruto can’t imagine what ever the fuck for. He avoids looking at Naruto, eyes darting around the room.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? What’s that gotta do with anything?” Naruto asks, outraged. He’d just said some really gay, sappy stuff. Vulnerable stuff. Sasuke could do him the favor of at least acknowledging it! “You’re changing the topic again!”

“I’m not!” Sasuke insists. “Listen to me—”

“Don’t change the topic!”

"Listen," Sasuke repeats sharply. "Do you remember the letter you wrote to me about the festival? A few months ago?”

No. Yes. “Sure?” Naruto says, baffled. “Yeah? What about it?”

“You wrote that you wanted to go with somebody you cared about, and you wished I was there to go with you.”

“What? I really said that?”

"Remember the letter where you said ramen tastes better when you eat it with me?"

Okay, wow, that was corny. "I didn't mean it like that—"

“The letter,” Sasuke cuts in, “where you said you had a dream we went to the beach together?”

“Oh,” Naruto says. He remembers that dream. They’d gone to the ocean, and it was endless, really, really endless, and the tide had lapped at their ankles and Sasuke had been sharp but sweet, distant but warm, and Naruto had woken up aching. That dream wasn’t at all unlike the evening they just spent.

That’s right. Sasuke remembers important things.

Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose. "Reading those made me want to bash my head into a tree.”

Naruto draws his knees up and holds his face in his hands. What the hell was Sasuke humiliating him for? "Shut the hell up," he says, muffled. "Just shut the hell up. Asshole. Fuckhead turdface. Your mom. I hate you."

"Those letters disagree,” Sasuke drawls.

Naruto drags his hands down his face. His cheeks are burning and he’s sure he’s red to the tips of his ears. “So?! So what?! You weren't supposed to—what's the word, when you figure stuff out from other stuff, when you—”

"Infer?"

"Infer!" Naruto shouts. "It's not like I meant for you to infer that I like you! What's your point?!"

“My point is that I know how you feel and I wanted to see you. I knew when I invited you.” He takes Naruto’s hand, thumbing over Naruto’s knuckles soothingly. It’s Sasuke doing it, so it doesn’t help to make Naruto any calmer—makes him dizzier, if anything. “Do you understand?”

“Understand that I’m a dumbass?” Naruto bemoans. How embarrassing could he get? He hadn’t even realized how obvious all those letters had been. He just wanted Sasuke to know that he was thinking about him and writing whatever he wanted, whatever he felt had seemed so natural. Naruto hadn't realized he was writing Sasuke love letters.

“Yeah,” Sasuke murmurs. He’s smiling. It’s not his crinkly-eyed smile, but something even sweeter; impossibly fond, entirely too soft for the handsome planes of his face, completely unfair to Naruto’s rabbit-fast heart. “You’re a moron. You wrote all that shit and didn’t even realize. Drove me up the fucking wall everytime I opened them. You’re an idiot.”

Naruto scrunches his nose at Sasuke. “Wow, I really feel better.”

“You’re a moron—” Naruto feels certain Sasuke says this just for the sake of it—“and that’s just how I like you. Why would I want to go on a date where you act like somebody else?”

Naruto sucks in a harsh breath. “Sasuke—”

“I’m in love with you,” Sasuke forces out, squeezing Naruto’s hand. Really hard. It might have to do with how flushed he is, the uncharacteristic warble underlying his voice. Naruto’s heart is being cut very carefully out of his chest, word by word, moment by moment. “Quit arguing with me. I love you, you knucklehead.”

Naruto says nothing. He pushes the heels of his palms against his eyes, swallowing the sudden swell of emotion in his throat. A low whine erupts from him.

“That’s all you can say?”

“Today was our first date,” Naruto says. He sounds like he’s beyond frustration. “Today was our first date! It was a really, really great date! I was really happy to see you after so long! It was perfect!”

“Ah.” Sasuke flusters again. The slope of his shoulders relaxes and he scratches his chin. “It was pretty great, wasn’t it.”

“But tomorrow is my day!” Naruto yells, throwing his hands from his face. He’s blushing furiously, eyes suspiciously moist. He jabs his finger into Sasuke’s chest. “I get to confess for real tomorrow! Like, the way I wanna! I’ll say it tomorrow! And I get to have our first kiss!”

Sasuke’s tender expression falls. He’d been leaning in. “What? We have to wait until tomorrow?”

“Yes! If we did it today, it’d be yours!”

Sasuke shakes his head like he can’t believe Naruto, but characteristically, he gets caught up in Naruto's mood, raising his voice back. “Okay, okay! But you better make it good!”

“I will, I will! Now, reset,” Naruto orders, clapping his hands together. Sasuke’s brows shoot up, but Naruto’s already gripping his shoulders, turning him around on the bed. “I said reset! Don’t look at me until I’m ready! We’re doing this over again. Look at the wall!”

Sasuke smacks Naruto’s hands away, bewildered but complying anyways. He turns around without arguing and Naruto stares at the broad shape of his back, the damp hair at the nape of his neck. The tip of Sasuke's ears are red. He knows he’s only getting away with this because Sasuke’s flustered, too.

Naruto presses his hands against his cheeks. He sucks in a deep breath and exhales loudly, and Sasuke barks out a laugh. But Naruto squeezes his eyes shut and pointedly ignores him.

The world is vast again. Naruto can’t even properly picture it in his mind. Sasuke makes the world massive, endless in it’s expanse, and Naruto can feel it spreading, spreading, rushing away from him, roaring deep in his chest. It’s just as quietly scary as it is thrilling.

Sasuke feels a hard tap to his shoulder. He twists to finally look at Naruto, searching.

“Hey, Sasuke. Do you wanna go on a date with me?”