Chapter Text

The Arts of Taming Wild Beasts

1, When it all started (or being noticed.)

…

The first time it really struck Kakashi was during Sasuke’s third housewarming party. 

A party that Sasuke, in no uncertain terms, had not wanted, had not planned, and definitely did not approve of taking place in his new house. Considering what happened at the second housewarming party less than three weeks ago, Kakashi supposed he had a point.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, his housemates had other plans. And now Kakashi was sitting here because he was invited by said housemates, and he wasn’t one to turn down free food. That was that.

(“The two of you will no longer be welcome to stay with me if you keep pulling this kind of shit,” Sasuke had warned at the ruin of the second party—and by extension, their equally destroyed residential place—his right eye flashing red dangerously in a way that was less ‘mildly annoyed’ and more ‘a misstep away from committing homicide on his currently-not-housemates’.

Karin squeaked at that and avoided looking at him, while Suigetsu chugged down another large bottle of water and valiantly pretended that he neither heard nor saw anything.

In the end, Juugo managed to calm them all down—just enough for them to go house-hunting again.)

Yet here they were. Another party, another argument, another headache in the making.

And despite all his protests, Sasuke had somehow still ended up in the kitchen, cooking half the food, muttering darkly about how rude it was not to feed guests properly. Every so often, he’d curse under his breath about whoever had filled the cabinets with alcoholic drinks because he sure as hell wouldn’t let any of them get wasted today. 

He didn’t seem to trust that the most mature person here—not the oldest (and that was highly offensive, thank you very much)—his former teacher and current acting Hokage, would actually stop anyone from sneaking into the liquor cabinet.

Which, to be fair, was understandable… considering the first hand to reach for it had been Kakashi’s.

“That’s your problem for being born and raised in a traditional household,” Suigetsu quipped at the remark of how their previously measly planned assortments of food were such a disgrace, swinging his second cup of beer in the air, making the liquid inside slosh dangerously. Sasuke shot him a warning glare. “It doesn’t hurt to let loose once in a while, you know.”

“Not during my fucking housewarming—” Sasuke snapped, only to abruptly cut himself off when he realised the accidental slip. 

Suigetsu, of course, did not let that go. “I thought you said this wasn’t your party, Sasuke-kun~”

“It still isn’t.” 

Sasuke gritted his teeth, flipping another okonomiyaki in the small pan. The newly turned side had a perfect golden brown shade. He hasn’t burnt anything, despite spending more than half of his attention elsewhere to keep an eye on his housemates (and guests, too, Kakashi noted thoughtfully since they also invited Naruto and Sai) to make sure they weren’t plotting any disastrous event right under his nose. 

It was quite impressive, really, how Sasuke managed to seamlessly continue his cooking while actively contemplating murder. His ability to multitask kept getting better with time, Kakashi would give him that.

“Woah, Sasuke, I didn’t know you’re such a good cook!”

Naruto, who had somehow wedged himself directly next to Sasuke, stole a piece of okonomiyaki from the plate, grinning around his mouthful of food. He chewed approvingly before giving Sasuke a thumbs-up.

“He’s our team’s housewife, of course he excels at that,” Suigetsu proudly declared. 

That earned him a spatula aimed right at his head. Despite not being made as a weapon, the force Sasuke exerted while throwing it must have been strong enough to embed a third of it into the wooden floor.

“Suigetsu,” Sasuke grumbled, his voice low and irritated.

“My apologies,” Suigetsu materialised back after turning into a puddle to avoid the attack. His grin was sly, missing genuine by a mile. “You’re our beloved househusband, Sasuke.”

This time, a fringe of his bangs immediately went up in flames.

Kakashi noted that Sasuke’s fire control had gotten exceptionally precise to the point that he could let it reach Suigetsu within milliseconds and not damage anything else in a room full of wooden furniture and people. 

Suigetsu should’ve been able to dodge it easily, but he either decided that he deserved it at least, or the alcohol had made his reaction time slightly sluggish, thus he didn’t liquify this time. He merely patted out the small blaze, accepting his fate.

“I’m sorry, since when is Sasuke yours to begin with?” 

Naruto stared at the white-haired man, an incredulous and uncharacteristically serious look on his face. 

Kakashi wasn’t even surprised that that was the part he chose to focus on.

“Sasuke’s not his!” Karin stepped into the already cramped room with a basket of freshly plucked tea leaves in hand, and promptly jumped into the conversation. 

“I said ours!” Suigetsu barked back instantly, flashing his mouthful of teeth at Karin. “You should be grateful that I consider we have joint custody, you annoying woman!”

The redhead screeched. “That’s for parental guardianship after a divorce, useless idiot!” 

The basket hit the counter with an unceremonious thud before Karin turned toward Suigetsu, eyes blazing. 

Suigetsu, sensing the shift in the air, stood to his full height and squared his shoulders, eyes glaring back at her with equal heat. “Bring it on, Tomato.”

Juugo, who had been sorting out some ingredients peacefully the entire time, stopped working in an attempt to assuage the situation. “Please, you two. This is ridiculous.”

“Tell that to fish-face over there,” Karin huffed, crossing her arms.

“You started it,” Suigetsu shot back, smirking.

Juugo looked to Sasuke for help, but Sasuke didn’t even glance up, currently slicing through a tomato with a little more force than necessary. The knife hit the cutting board with a loud thunk.

Juugo quietly gave up his intervention and went back to his work.

Distantly, Kakashi heard Sai ask Juugo with a curious interest in his voice, “Do they always fight like that?”

Beside him, Juugo gave a slow, resigned nod.

“You wish that you had any claim over him, you slimy, overgrown guppy!” 

Karin continued firing her insults as if to further prove to Sai that yes, they’d always been at each other’s throats like this.

Suigetsu snickered derisively. “First of all, rude. Second of all, you’re just mad because if Sasuke had to choose between us, he’d pick me any day over a screeching banshee like you.”

Karin’s nostrils flared as her hand grabbed the nearest object available to throw at Suigetsu. It was the pepper bottle. 

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the human equivalent of a clogged drain!”

Suigetsu’s chest liquified so that the bottle flew right through him, dropping on the floor. “At least I don’t spy on him through walls like a deranged stalker—”

“You take baths in the same water as him!”

“It’s communal bathing! That’s a thing! Not my fault if you’re a pervert who—”

“Both of you.” Sasuke finally interrupted, voice cold and commanding. He didn’t look up from whatever he was doing, as if pointedly not giving any attention to either of them. “Stop.”

A stifling silence fell.

Sakura chose this moment to walk into the kitchen. She paused just long enough to take one look around at the mess in front of her, sighed and picked up the pepper bottle, then went about her business like it was any other day.

Naruto turned to Kakashi, looking personally offended. “How come she doesn’t even flinch at this madness?”

Kakashi turned a page in his book. “She works at a hospital, Naruto. You think this is bad? Try seeing what she deals with on a daily basis.”

Sakura smiled sweetly. “Exactly.”

Naruto huffed but didn’t drag the matter further. He turned his attention back to Sasuke, sensing the sheer weight of the raven-haired boy’s patience running on fumes, then loudly clearing his throat before neither Suigetsu nor Karin could continue their verbal battle.

“Neither of you has any guardianship over Sasuke! Stop talking about him like you’re really in some kind of custody battle—”

“Naruto.” Sasuke groaned, sounding unbelievably done. “Not you too.”

Naruto looked torn between indignant irritation and the newly developed desire to assuage Sasuke’s threatening fury. The palpable smugness on Suigetsu’s face wasn’t helping to alleviate his bubbling anger. 

Sakura, bless her soul, chose this moment to interject softly. “I’ve finished washing the herbs. Do you need anything else, Sasuke-kun?”

Sasuke, after a pause, exhaled.

“Brew some tea. Both fresh and dry.” He briefly glanced at Karin. “She’ll show you what you need.”

Kakashi paused from reading his book for a moment, vaguely wondering whether it was a good decision to suddenly ask those two girls to work together.

The thing was, he had seen how Sakura and Ino fought for Sasuke’s attention in the past, glaring at each other—and any other girl who dared to join the fray—with heated insults. They had grown up since then. With Ino now happily with Sai, Sakura’s crush on Sasuke also seemed to mature and subsided. Still, that didn’t mean her years of longing could totally vanish into thin air after one night; and with how obvious Karin’s infatuation and adoration toward Sasuke was, Kakashi had half-expected to see a similar quarrel erupt between the pink-haired girl and the redhead. 

A silent stillness spread across the room one more time. Karin looked up, her gaze focused on Sakura’s emerald green eyes for a moment, glasses couldn’t dim how fierce her look was. 

Sakura held that gaze unflinchingly, and didn’t even blink for several seconds. 

The okonomiyaki continued sizzling in the pan as Sasuke, completely unbothered, reached for some tomatoes and cabbages, calmly chopping them as if nothing unusual was happening. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the room—everyone else was watching with varying degrees of interest.

Karin was the first one to break the impromptu staring contest, her lips curling into something resembling a smirk. She adjusted her glasses before picking up the basket of tea leaves, “Sure. Follow me, Sakura-san.”

Kakashi blinked. That went much more civilised than he had expected, but well, now he could get back to engrossing in his novel in peace, so it was a good outcome. 

The chaos in the kitchen settled, at least for now.

Sasuke sighed, settling the last okonomiyaki onto a plate. His patience had already been stretched far past its limit today, but he hadn’t stabbed anyone yet, which meant he still had some self-control left. Hopefully.

Kakashi idly flipped a page in his book, not really reading it. His one visible eye remained on the party unfolding around him—if it could even be called that. It was more like an ongoing battlefield disguised as a social gathering at this point, if he was being honest.

Naruto still hovered far too close to Sasuke, sneaking bites when he thought Sasuke wasn’t looking. Sasuke, of course, was looking and swatted Naruto’s hand away at the latest attempt to emphasise his irritated warning.

“Eat off your own plate after I finish decorating them, usuratonkachi.”

Someone didn’t seem to appreciate how hard he was trying to contain his murderous rage, really.

Kakashi held back a chuckle. Sasuke, despite insisting that he wanted no part in hosting this event, right now was begrudgingly plating food with the precision of someone who definitely cared about the results. 

“Get out of here and wait for your food before I make you, Naruto.”

“But you’re already finished—”

“Get. Out.”

Suigetsu, who had just refilled his drink, chose this exact moment to insert himself into the scene. He leaned toward Sasuke, propping his elbow on the kitchen counter with all the grace of a man thoroughly enjoying someone else’s misery.

“You do realise he’s just going to keep stealing if you don’t physically restrain him, right?”

Sasuke shot him and his newly filled cup a deeply distrustful glare. “I could physically restrain you.”

Suigetsu grinned, taking a long swig of his drink. “Kinky.”

Naruto nearly choked on the bite he’d just gone for when Sasuke was busy glaring daggers at Suigetsu. His loud wheezing almost made Sasuke pause in concern—until he noticed the dishevelled state of his half-decorated plate. Any sympathy immediately vanished. Naruto deserved this.

Suigetsu, ever the enabler, shoved his drink toward Naruto, “Need some?”

Naruto grimaced, “No thanks.”

He pushed the cup back with more force than necessary. The liquid sloshed violently, spilling across the counter and splattering onto the freshly prepared bowl of salad.

Naruto froze. Suigetsu howled with laughter.

Sasuke stared blankly for a moment, then closed his eyes as if mentally calculating whether this was worth a homicide charge. He inhaled, exhaled, and finally spoke with a finality that brooked no argument.

“Both of you. Out.”

“Let’s listen to our househus— host like a good boy, Naruto-kun~”

Naruto’s glare was immediate and scathing. “Don’t lump me in with you, fish-face.”

Suigetsu, utterly unruffled, propped his chin on one hand and grinned. 

“Come on, I’m just saying we should respect our dear househusband’s wishes.”

Sasuke didn’t react this time when Suigetsu didn’t even bother to correct that newly made nickname. Not even a twitch. Instead, he turned his back to them and—calmly, methodically—picked up the salad bowl that had fallen victim to their antics. 

It was the kind of eerie, measured silence that meant nothing good.

Kakashi, ever the observer, made another mental note: Sasuke doesn’t argue anymore when he’s reached critical levels of fed-up. He probably just enacts swift and brutal consequences.

“Uhm, Sasuke—?” 

Naruto began, but that was as far as he got before the salad bowl was hurled with terrifying accuracy. He barely managed to dodge, the bowl hitting the wall behind him with a thunk before tumbling to the floor.

“Hey, that was still edible!” Suigetsu protested, though he was still grinning like a madman.

“Get. Out.” 

Sasuke’s voice was flat, final. The kind of voice that suggested they’d live longer if they didn’t push their luck.

Naruto and Suigetsu exchanged looks as if weighing their odds, before silently shuffling out of the kitchen—though Suigetsu still had the audacity to snatch a piece of okonomiyaki on his way out. 

Sasuke turned around at the exact moment Suigetsu shoved it in his mouth, meeting his smug, chewing face with a murderous glare.

Sasuke inhaled deeply through his nose. “I hope you choke.”

Suigetsu gave a dramatic gulp, swallowing the bite down in one go before flashing a thumbs-up. “Delicious, househusband~”

A fist-sized fireball nearly singed his face off.

Suigetsu fled, cackling the whole way.

Kakashi flipped another page in his book, nodding to himself. Yep, definitely househusband tendencies.

Now that Naruto and Suigetsu had been successfully evicted, the kitchen had finally achieved some semblance of peace. Naruto, however, was still fuming though. He sat cross-legged on the floor, glaring at Suigetsu like he was plotting a full-scale assassination. Suigetsu, in contrast, looked infuriatingly smug, swirling the remnants of his beer as if he’d already won whatever unspoken war they were fighting.

Kakashi, meanwhile, had fully resigned himself to enjoying the entertainment while pretending to read. But he was watching. Closely.

And much to his surprise and delight, the next disruption came from Sai, who had watched the entire exchange with deep fascination, scribbling hurriedly on his notebook for a while before turning to Juugo.

“I don’t understand,” he said, tilting his head as he observed those three, focusing on Suigetsu and Sasuke in particular. “Are they flirting?”

Juugo, who had just finished arranging whatever task Sasuke had given him, barely glanced up. “No.”

Sai hummed, lightly tapping his pen on the notebook. 

“Are you sure? Because it resembles the interactions I’ve observed between couples who enjoy antagonising each other.”

Juugo shook his head. “Sasuke would have killed him by now.”

Kakashi made another mental note: Juugo understands Sasuke’s murder threshold better than anyone else in the room.

Suigetsu snorted, clearly listening in. “If you think this is flirting, you should see how Naruto acts with him.”

Naruto almost choked again, this time on nothing. “Excuse me?!”

Kakashi turned to another page of his book, thoroughly entertained.

“Interesting,” Sai mused, placing some thoughtful fingers on his chin. He then turned to Juugo, considering his words for a few seconds. “Would you say Naruto’s behaviour is comparable to an animal attempting to establish dominance?”

Juugo, who had seen enough of their interactions to form a reasonable opinion, simply nodded. “Yes.”

Naruto made another strangled noise. “What the hell does that mean?!”

Kakashi snickered. Naruto reacted exactly like someone who had just been psychoanalysed against their will.

“Fascinating,” Sai wrote something down in his notebook before closing it with a soft thump. “I’ll go see if Sakura and Karin need any help.”

Juugo only nodded this time. He also stood up to bring the stuff he sorted out to Sasuke before returning to his seat, continuing to observe everything in his usual quiet, unintrusive way.

The current comfortable silence gave Kakashi some room to mull over this new idea that just popped up in his head. He wasn’t sure if Naruto and Suigetsu knew they were in any sort of weird competition, but in his opinion, they certainly were.

Naruto’s methods of getting Sasuke’s attention were… well, painfully Naruto-ish. Loud, impulsive, and full of an almost childlike desperation to be noticed. He praised Sasuke’s cooking. He defended Sasuke from Suigetsu’s teasing. He got worked up over every little thing Suigetsu said, just to get Sasuke’s approval.

Suigetsu, on the other hand, was insufferably casual about it. He never outright demanded Sasuke’s attention—he stole it instead with snide comments, teasing, and acting like he didn’t care even though he clearly did. 

And Sasuke, despite all his grumbling, actually engaged with Suigetsu’s antics in a way he didn’t with most people. Of course that would only irritate Naruto further.

Kakashi had to agree with Sai. It was fascinating to watch.

“So,” Naruto finally broke the silence. He crossed his arms, glaring at Suigetsu. “What exactly makes you think you guys have ‘joint custody’ of Sasuke?”

Kakashi almost couldn’t hold back his snicker this time. After all the bickering, of all the things to fixate on, that was what Naruto chose to latch onto?

Suigetsu leaned back on his hands, smirking. “Duh. We’ve been on the same team for years, living together, fighting together—hell, I’ve probably spent more time with Sasuke than you have since he left Konoha.”

Naruto’s left eye twitched. Low blow.

Sasuke rubbed his temples. “Can you two shut up?”

“Not until you say who you’d rather have custody of you,” Suigetsu said, far too pleased with himself.

Naruto gasped like Suigetsu had committed an unforgivable crime. He turned toward Sasuke, demanding with his eyes blazing. “Yeah, Sasuke, say it.”

Sasuke turned to Kakashi, deadpanned. “Can you please kill me?”

Kakashi hummed mirthfully. “Tempting, but I’d hate to deprive you of this valuable bonding experience.”

Before Sasuke could set the entire place on fire out of sheer frustration, the conversation was derailed by a loud crash from the other side of the room.

Everyone turned.

Sai stood near the doorway, holding an empty plate and looking as neutral as ever; while Juugo, who had somehow happened to intervene at who knew when, was currently holding back a seething Karin, whose hands were clenched into fists. A shattered teacup lay at their feet.

“What now?” Sasuke groaned.

Karin took a deep breath, pointing an accusatory finger at Sai. “This asshole—”

“I simply stated a fact,” Sai interrupted to explain, voice far too calm and collected amid the chaos he had just caused. “That you and Sakura-san seem to have formed an alliance of sorts. A surprising development, considering how you both used to throw yourselves at Sasuke-kun’s feet.”

Dead silence.

Naruto made a strangled noise. Suigetsu wheezed. Even a corner of Juugo’s mouth was twitching. 

Kakashi’s visible eye flicked back to his book to continue his act of indifference, though he wasn’t absorbing a single word.

Sakura, on the other hand, just smiled sweetly. “Sai.”

Sai blinked. “Yes?”

“Shut up.”

He nodded. “Understood.”

Karin huffed but, after prying Juugo’s hands away, simply threw a glare at Sai before stomping toward the table. She and Sakura settled down with the tea sets, deciding in silent agreement to let it go.

Juugo and Sai helped arrange the utensils while Sasuke plated the last of the food.

For a moment, there was peace. But before Sasuke could breathe out a sigh of relief, Naruto broke the fragile harmonious atmosphere.

“Hang on. Sasuke, you still haven’t answered my question.”

Sasuke’s fingers tightened his grip around the chopsticks.

“Oh, yeah,” Suigetsu chirped happily, winking at Sasuke. “The custody one, remember? I’m still waiting for an answer, too.”

“… Custody?” 

Sakura questioned, her voice hesitant. Sai calmly filled her in.

Karin immediately bristled right after Sai finished, “Neither of you deserves to be his custodian! That should’ve been me!”

Sai mused, “I didn’t realise the type of affection you have for Sasuke-kun is the motherly kind—”

“Shut up, you weirdo. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

Sasuke took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan was swirling in his right eye.

“Enough,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “If any of you say one more word about this, I’m putting you all in a genjutsu so embarrassing you’ll never show your faces here again.”

The threat hung in the air for a moment before Suigetsu parted his lips.

Sasuke’s hand shot up, and a small spark of Chidori crackled in his palm. 

Suigetsu wisely closed his mouth.

Sasuke gave all of them a last warning look before the crimson shade slowly faded from his eye. His left Rinnegan was faintly visible underneath his bang, though, and all the six rings looked almost pulsating at this moment. He still appeared calm, but just barely.

“Alright. Now everyone, please sit down,” Sasuke’s tone was less threatening this time, but it still left no room for argument. “And if anyone drops anything, I’m feeding them to Juugo’s birds.”

The group obeyed, settling around the table with uncharacteristic quiet. For a few blissful minutes, the only sounds were the clinking of utensils and the occasional murmur of appreciation.

Finally, Sakura was the first to speak up again, smiling. “Sasuke, these are amazing! The grilled meat especially—will you teach me how to marinate it?”

Sasuke shrugged, “One day, maybe.”

Kakashi, sipping his tea, allowed himself a brief thought. Maybe this group could actually hang out civilly after all…

“Yeah, I didn’t expect you to have such a domestic side, Sasuke! You’re, like, the best househusband ever!”

Naruto shattered Kakashi’s newest mental note immediately with that.

Sasuke’s eye twitched, but before he could respond, Suigetsu chimed in. “He’s right though. Maybe we should throw more parties so we can get used to this side of you.”

Sasuke sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. “I swear this is the last party I allow to happen.”

“You didn’t allow this,” Suigetsu pointed out. “It happened to you.”

Naruto grinned. “Like everything else in his life.”

“If Sasuke is the househusband,” before Sasuke could protest Naruto and Suigetsu’s unexpected temporary alliance to gang up on him, Sai suddenly mused out loud. “Does that make Suigetsu the troublesome spouse who drinks too much and gambles away the savings?”

Juugo blinked. “… We don’t have savings.”

“A fair point,” Sai conceded. “But if you did, I imagine he would gamble it away.”

Karin muttered something that sounded suspiciously like he’d definitely bet it on something stupid too.

Sai tapped his chin thoughtfully before continuing, “And Naruto… would he be the doting yet reckless partner who spends more time pestering his spouse than helping around the house?”

“He would,” Juugo confirmed without hesitation.

Sasuke put down his chopsticks. “I swear to—”

“Then what does that make you?” Karin cut in, turning toward Sai with a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

Sai’s expression didn’t change. “The nosy neighbour who watches all the drama unfold from his porch.”

Kakashi snorted. He could see that, actually.

Sasuke, however, had reached his absolute limit. He turned to Kakashi, as if silently begging for intervention—or maybe just to find witnesses to his impending crime spree.

Kakashi only raised one eyebrow at him, unmoving.

“I hate all of you,” Sasuke stated, voice drenched in exhaustion.

“Liar,” Karin said from across the room, adjusting her glasses. “If you really hated us, you wouldn’t have made enough food to feed an army.”

Sasuke twitched but said nothing.

Naruto flashed a blinding smile at him. “Face it, bastard, you love us.”

Sasuke turned, locking eyes with Naruto for one long, unreadable moment. The air between them shifted—subtle, but noticeable.

Kakashi’s eye flickered over to Suigetsu.

For the first time all evening, the white-haired swordsman wasn’t smirking.

Interesting.

Kakashi took another slice of okonomiyaki. Very, very interesting.

He was halfway through it when he noticed the pointed look Sasuke was giving him. Meaningful of what, Kakashi wasn’t sure. Sasuke was never easy to read, and those swirling eyes of his weren’t helpful in deducing the intention underneath either.

Still, he considered for a few seconds before reaching one arm out, patting Sasuke’s shoulder in an act of reassurance. 

“You did great, Sasuke. Truly. This is already a much better housewarming party than the last one.”

Sasuke stared at him, long and hard. “You weren’t even there for the last one.”

“Exactly.”

For once, Sasuke seemed to have no comeback. He exhaled sharply, rubbed his temples, and muttered something about needing to throw half the guests out before the night got any worse.

Unfortunately for him, the night was just getting started.

Kakashi only smiled. This housewarming party might actually be the best one yet.

…

..

.

Ah yeah, the art, cuz I put it in the note in summary. I’ll work on an actual drawing for this story soon once I have time. You can suggest which scene(s) from this you’d like to see, please and thank you!

In case the picture doesn't show: Taka team meme

Chapter Text

2, Steam and shenanigans [Part 1]

…

“Fucking finally— Who the hell throws a housewarming party and then ditches for three weeks and a half without a word, asshole?!”

Sasuke was beyond tired. He had travelled a ridiculous distance over the last few days, endured the unnaturally humid and scorching weather of unfamiliar lands, and slogged through torrential downpours that even Suigetsu—a literal water freak—found more annoying than refreshing. His cloak and clothes were still damp, his hair was ruined, and his skin looked even paler than usual. 

All he wanted right now was nothing more than a long, hot bath to ease his aching muscles.

What he didn’t want was a loud, blinding mass of orange standing in front of his door, screaming at him even before he could get into the house. Couldn’t the idiot at least wait until he changed out of his travel-worn clothes? What an utter lack of manners.

“A simple ‘welcome home’ would suffice,” Suigetsu clicked his tongue, clearly voicing the irritation Sasuke didn’t have the energy to express.

A small, tiny part of Sasuke distantly noted that it meant something—having someone waiting for him when he returned. Well, this place wasn’t familiar enough yet for him to call it home, but—

Sasuke snuffed that thought out immediately before it could take root. He had no time for pointless sentimentality, and certainly didn’t want to deal with the uncomfortable consequences called feelings.

Predictably, Naruto glared at the white-haired man’s direction. “I wasn’t talking to you!”

“I live here too, you know?” Suigetsu arched an eyebrow. 

That reminder made a corner of Naruto’s mouth twitch in annoyance, but he dismissed it with a sharp huff as he turned toward Sasuke instead, blatantly and pointedly pretending that Suigetsu didn’t exist.

“So?” The blond crossed his arms, eyes burning with frustration. “Where the hell were you, bastard?”

Unfortunately for Naruto, Suigetsu was standing close to Sasuke, and he had no qualms about making things worse. He didn’t even feel the need to act irritated at being ignored as he casually slung an arm around Sasuke’s shoulders, invading his personal space with a sly, challenging grin on his face.

“I can also answer that question for you, Naruto-kun~”

Naruto’s scowl deepened. His clenched fists twitched at his sides.

Suigetsu chuckled gleefully.

Sasuke, of course, noticed what Suigetsu was trying to do, but right now he was too exhausted to find it in him to properly reprimand that provoking behaviour. Besides, he still had another bigger headache incoming right now…

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Sasuke exhaled through his nose, slow and deliberate, in what Suigetsu suspected was the last shred of his willpower holding him together. His patience clearly was thinning and vanishing.

“I had a mission.”

Naruto’s jaw clenched. “For three and a half weeks?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t think to tell anyone?!”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. He was done standing around for this. With a slight shrug, he dislodged Suigetsu’s arm from his shoulders and stepped forward, brushing past Naruto as he reached for the door.

“I did tell them.”

Naruto whirled around, incredulous. “Them who?!”

Suigetsu lazily raised his hand. “Yo.”

Naruto gawked at him. “You don’t count!”

“Rude.” Suigetsu huffed, shaking off a few droplets from his damp fringe before flashing a smug grin. “But hey, don’t take it personally. If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t exactly thrilled either when I found out he was dragging us along.”

Naruto blinked, his anger momentarily derailed. “Wait. You went too?”

“We all went, obviously.” Suigetsu gestured vaguely at himself. His normally spiky hair was flattened from lingering moisture, and his usual relaxed posture looked weighed down with exhaustion. “And for the record, it sucked.”

Naruto’s gaze flickered between the two of them. His eyes narrowed slightly. “So where’s Karin? And Juugo?”

“Karin volunteered to deliver the report,” Sasuke muttered, finally shoving the door open. “Juugo is staying behind for a few more days.”

Naruto absorbed that information in silence, then scoffed. “Oh, sure, so they get an explanation, but I don’t?”

“You weren’t here,” Sasuke deadpanned.

Naruto felt his frustration rising again. “You weren’t here!”

Sasuke ignored him, stepping inside without further comment, leaving the door wide open.

Suigetsu sighed dramatically, stretching his arms behind his head as he followed suit.

“Well, home sweet home, I guess. Not that we got to enjoy it last time, though.” 

Naruto quickly strode in before Suigetsu could slam the door in his face. 

The white-haired man didn’t seem to care, though. He made a beeline for the kitchen, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a cool bottle of water. He uncapped it with his teeth and chugged it down in under five seconds, letting out a blissful groan afterward.

Meanwhile, Sasuke barely glanced at the entrance door left ajar. “Close it.”

Naruto grumbled but did as he was told. He opened his mouth to reignite their argument, only to be interrupted by the soft rustling of fabric.

The blond turned to see Sasuke shrugging off his damp cloak, the sodden mess slumping onto the nearest chair in a wet heap. His clothes underneath were slightly wrinkled and still clung to him from residual dampness. 

Now that Sasuke wasn’t standing stiffly outside, his exhaustion was stark—pale skin, shadowed eyes. Naruto noticed all that, and for a brief second, his irritation faltered.

Sasuke dragged a hand through his hair, rubbing at his temple like he was seconds away from developing a headache. Without another word, he turned and started toward the hallway.

“Oi, where do you think you’re going?” Naruto called after him.

Sasuke didn’t even pause. “To take a bath.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

Naruto narrowed his eyes, not entirely satisfied. “We’re not done talking, bastard.”

“You are,” Sasuke called back over his shoulder, already disappearing down the hall. “I’m done listening.”

Naruto bristled, ready to charge after him, but Suigetsu clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Give it a rest, blondie,” the white-haired man said with a lazy grin. “You’ll get your next shouting match soon enough. Just let the man bathe first.”

Naruto swatted Suigetsu’s hand off with a glare, but begrudgingly, he didn’t move to follow Sasuke.

Fine. He’d let him clean up. But once Sasuke was back, he was getting answers.

Meanwhile, Suigetsu chose this moment to peel off his cloak, letting it drop to the floor with a damp plop, before tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Naruto barely had time to process what was happening before Suigetsu’s shirt hit the floor with a wet slap, revealing toned abs and pale, water-slicked skin. His hands were already at his waistband, fingers hooking beneath the fabric—

“Woah, woah, woah—The hell are you doing?!”

Suigetsu paused, blinking at Naruto like he was the crazy one. “What do you think? I’m getting rid of my wet clothes.”

“Yeah, I can see that, and I’d like to unsee it, thanks!” Naruto’s hands flailed as he turned his head away, face contorted in sheer disbelief. “What kind of freak just starts stripping in the middle of the damn living room?!”

Suigetsu rolled his eyes. “Must I remind you that I live here? If I wanna walk around naked in my own place, I damn well can and will.”

Naruto sputtered. “No, you can’t!”

“Oh?” Suigetsu’s grin widened. “What, scared you’ll see something you like?”

Naruto recoiled so hard he nearly tripped over the wet cloak on the floor. 

“What kind of response is that? What the actual fuck?!”

Suigetsu snickered, clearly enjoying himself, and before Naruto could recover, he had already pushed his pants down past his hips—

“At least keep your goddamn pants on!”

Naruto lunged forward and gripped the hem of Suigetsu’s pants, stopping him mid-movement.

Suigetsu sighed theatrically. “Tch. You’re such a prude, y’know that?” He made a grand show of yanking his pants back up—thank god—before rolling his eyes again. “Fine, fine. I won’t go naked right now.”

Naruto exhaled in relief.

Suigetsu scooped up both discarded cloaks along with his shirt, shaking them out lazily before slinging them over his shoulder. Then, stretching his free arm over his head, he announced casually, “I’ll just take a bath instead.”

Naruto’s entire body went rigid.

He could hear the bathwater running. Sasuke was there.

His eye’s muscles twitched. “You’re gonna what now?”

Suigetsu arched an eyebrow, dragging out each word with exaggerated slowness, as if explaining something to a particularly dense child. “Take. A. Bath.”

“With Sasuke?!”

Okay, Suigetsu took that back—Naruto wasn’t slow. No way a slow kid could react that fast. Then again, maybe Naruto’s default setting was trigger-happy when it came to anything involving Sasuke.

“Well, yeah,” Suigetsu drawled. He hadn’t actually planned on barging in on Sasuke, but since Naruto had so kindly put the idea in his head, it’d be a shame to let it go to waste. “Same miserable trip, same need to wash off. What’s the issue?”

Naruto clenched his fists. He wasn’t sure why this irritated him so much, but it just did.

“You can’t just go take a bath with him!”

Suigetsu tilted his head, looking genuinely puzzled. “Why not?”

“Because—” Naruto’s brain stalled. “Because—because it’s weird!”

Suigetsu snorted. “We’ve bathed together before, you know. Not a big deal.”

The blond felt his eyes almost pop out of their sockets. “What—”

Suigetsu grinned, leaning in slightly. Crazed mirth twinkled in his violet eyes. “What’s wrong, Naruto? Jealous?”

Naruto nearly combusted on the spot. “I—No—What—!?”

The white-haired man let out a low chuckle, clearly savouring every second of Naruto’s flustered rage. Then, with a dramatic stretch, he turned on his heel and strolled toward the hallway.

“Relax,” he called over his shoulder, voice positively dripping with amusement. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing. It’s just some good, clean fun, that’s all.”

Naruto choked on air. “What the hell does that mean?!”

“Exactly what I said,” Suigetsu chirped breezily. “Can’t help it if your mind’s in the gutter.”

Naruto seethed. His mind wasn’t in the gutter—but now it was, damn it!

Suigetsu cackled and disappeared down the hall before Naruto’s brain could get out of the gutter to fully process the whole situation.

By the time the words truly registered—by the time Naruto finally thought to storm after him—Suigetsu was long gone.

“OI, GET BACK HERE, YOU SLIMY PIECE OF—”

Too late.

Naruto stood fuming, fists clenched, face burning both in anger and embarrassment. There was no way in hell he was letting this slide.

.

.

The bathhouse was dimly lit, steam curling in lazy spirals as warmth soaked into Sasuke’s travel-worn muscles. Water lapped gently against the smooth stone edge where he rested, his eyes closed, head tilted slightly back. The exhaustion of the past three and a half weeks still clung to him, heavy and unrelenting—but at least here, in the quiet heat, his body had finally begun to relax.

Or it would have—if not for the other presence in the bathroom with him.

Suigetsu, sitting on the wooden stool beside the bath, casually poured a bucket of water over himself, letting it cascade down his shoulders and back in a steady rush. He hummed under his breath, running his fingers through his damp, silvery hair before reaching for the soap. With practiced ease, he lathered up, rubbing his arms, chest, and neck with slow, methodical strokes.

He hadn’t said anything yet, but the blissful quiet wouldn’t last—Sasuke knew that much. He also knew he should have stopped Suigetsu from barging in like it was the most natural thing in the world. But he hadn’t. Because, of course, Suigetsu hadn’t even bothered to ask in the first place. Just another case of someone with a regrettable lack of basic manners.

Sometimes, Sasuke genuinely wondered what had gone wrong in his life when he kept attracting people like that. He was born and raised with proper etiquette, carried himself with discipline; and even while living alone from a very young age, he had managed to maintain his personal standards. Though Sasuke had defected from Konoha, lived under the tutelage of a legendary Sannin with a well-documented history of terrorism, and then spent time among the Akatsuki—yet somehow, even they had shown better manners than this.

His moment of reflection was, predictably, short-lived.

“You know,” Suigetsu finally broke the silence along with Sasuke’s train of thought, glancing at him, “for a guy who broods as much as you do, you sure get dirty fast. Maybe you just attract grime like you attract problems.”

Sasuke, still reclined against the stone edge, didn’t respond.

Suigetsu took that as an encouragement to keep talking.

“Not that I blame you. That mission sucked. The humidity? Disgusting. I felt sticky all the damn time.” He wrinkled his nose and let out a dramatic sigh. “You know it’s bad when I hate being wet.”

Sasuke exhaled slowly, but it wasn’t quite a sigh.

Suigetsu grinned, dipping his hands into the soapy water before lazily flicking some bubbles in Sasuke’s direction. A few drifted toward him, popping against his damp skin. 

No reaction.

“Cold as ever,” Suigetsu muttered, amused. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the bath’s edge. “You should let me wash your hair.”

Sasuke cracked an eye open just enough to give him a look.

“What? I’m serious.” Suigetsu ran his fingers through his own hair, stretching out his legs. “You’re gonna just sit there like a statue anyway, might as well put me to use.”

When Sasuke said nothing, Suigetsu took that as an invitation. Without hesitation, he reached out, combing his fingers lazily through Sasuke’s damp bangs. His hair was thick, soft despite the wear of travel, and longer than before. Suigetsu idly carded his fingers through it, watching the way the strands slipped between them, heavy with moisture.

“Man, your hair’s gotten longer,” he mused, giving a slow, deliberate tug just to see if Sasuke would react. Nothing. “Maybe Naruto would’ve thrown a bigger tantrum if he saw you like this. You do look kinda different.”

Sasuke slightly frowned when Suigetsu continued to play with his hair, but still didn’t open his eyes.

After a few more seconds, Suigetsu finally stopped and reached for the shampoo bottle. “Tch. You’re useless like this.” 

He lathered up his hands before digging his fingers into Sasuke’s scalp, working the liquid into a rich lather. Suds dripped down Sasuke’s temples, sliding over his skin in slow rivulets before disappearing beneath the water’s surface.

Surprisingly, Sasuke didn’t resist. He sat there, quiet, letting Suigetsu wash his hair like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Suigetsu huffed a quiet laugh. If he’d tried this back when they first met, Sasuke would’ve either skewered him or stiffened like a cornered cat. He used to hate being touched—used to flinch if someone so much as reached for him the wrong way. But now? Sasuke let Suigetsu crowd in close, let him scrub at his scalp, let him touch his bare skin without bristling or snapping.

They’d come a long way, hadn’t they?

He wondered if Sasuke even realised it.

“Y’know,” Suigetsu drawled, rinsing his hands off in the water before gathering up more bubbles, “Naruto would lose his goddamn mind if he knew you let me touch you like this.”

He scooped up a handful of the foamy suds, smirking before blowing them directly toward Sasuke’s face. Some of them stuck to his cheek, a few clinging to his damp lashes. 

Sasuke exhaled through his nose, sharp and controlled, as if barely tolerating him.

Suigetsu grinned. “I mean, allow me to wash your hair? Seeing you like this? Hell, you’re practically letting me get away with murder.”

Sasuke didn’t respond, but the white-haired man caught the faintest twitch in his jaw, the barely perceptible shift of his fingers beneath the water—small tells that anyone else might’ve missed.

“Anyway,” Suigetsu clicked his tongue, abruptly switching gears as he rummaged through a nearby drawer. “Your bath is boring as hell. No wonder you’re always so moody.”

Sasuke cracked an eye open just enough to give him a flat look before closing it again, opting for silence.

Suigetsu snorted, pulling out one of the bath bombs Karin had bought and turning it over in his palm. “Rose-scented. Classic.” He unceremoniously tossed it into the tub.

It hit the water with a soft plop before slowly dissolving, the surface bubbling as pink and white foam spread in swirls. A light floral fragrance filled the air, mingling with the steam. The water shifted, warm and silken with the added oils.

Suigetsu tilted his head, watching Sasuke for a reaction. Nothing. Not a flicker of surprise, not a twitch of an eyebrow.

Of course, he wouldn’t react.

Tch. What a waste of a bath bomb.

Shrugging, Suigetsu reached for the showerhead, washing away the last traces of foam and suds before finally sliding into the bath beside Sasuke. The water rippled, lapping gently against their shoulders as he stretched out, sinking into the warmth.

“Oh yeah,” he murmured lazily, letting his body relax under the scented water. “If Naruto ever found out, he’d fucking explode.”

And that thought was hilarious.

The heat of the water instantly worked its way into his muscles, loosening the stiffness from days of travel. Suigetsu let out a satisfied sigh as he sank even deeper, letting his head tilt back against the smooth stone edge. The steam curled around them, thick and hazy, making everything feel slower, heavier, almost dreamlike.

He stretched his legs out under the water, nudging Sasuke’s ankle just to be annoying, then lazily swirled his fingers through the surface, watching the ripples spread. 

The bath was nice—way nicer than what they were usually stuck with on missions. Big, quiet, comfortably hot. If he weren’t so entertained by pestering Sasuke, he might’ve actually relaxed for real.

But annoying the raven was so much more fun.

“So,” Suigetsu smiled, cracking an eye open, “you gonna tell me what’s up with Naruto, or should I just assume he’s always that unhinged?”

Silence.

“Seriously, the dude nearly bit my head off the second we stepped through the gate. Thought he was gonna throw a Rasengan at me just for standing next to you.” He continued, lifting his hands just to make air quotes. “Not that I mind the attention, but man, talk about being territorial.”

Sasuke remained still.

Suigetsu lazily scooped up some bubbles and blew them toward Sasuke’s face. 

“Y’know, for someone who gets so pissy about attention, you sure have a lot of people obsessed with you.”

Sasuke exhaled through his nose. It wasn’t quite a sigh, but usually, it was enough to encourage Suigetsu to keep talking.

The white-haired man paused, though, taking a moment to really look at Sasuke.

Yeah, sure, Sasuke was stupidly attractive—almost offensively so. High cheekbones, a sharp, elegant jawline, dark lashes so thick they cast faint shadows over his pale skin. His features were finely sculpted, aristocratic in a way that made him look untouchable, like some noble prince who had no business slumming it with the rest of them. 

Even now, half-submerged in the bath, with damp strands of raven-black hair clinging to his face and a faint sheen of steam softening his usual sharp edges, he still looked like he’d stepped out of an artist’s most painstakingly perfected masterpiece. The water revealed the elegant line of his collarbones and the subtly toned muscles beneath his pale skin, a lean grace that made even the simplest movements appear infuriatingly effortless.

Objectively speaking, Suigetsu could understand why most people wanted him.

But that alone didn’t explain the absolute insanity Sasuke inspired in some particular individuals.

“Suigetsu,” Sasuke suddenly opened his mouth. “Stop thinking.”

“Huh?” The white-haired man blinked before chuckling. “You’re fine with me being naked and staring at you, but thinking is where you draw the line? Sometimes I don’t really get you, Sas.”

“You’re only this quiet when you’re plotting something dangerous or annoying,” Sasuke explained with a sigh. “I don’t need either of those right now.”

“That’s very prejudicial of you,” Suigetsu complained, though his tone was more amused than offended. “And fairly discriminative.”

“Don’t use big words you barely understand.”

“Rude.”

“That sounds more like you,” Sasuke nodded. “And I mean it. Stop thinking. It doesn’t suit you.”

What a nasty personality. Suigetsu snickered, tilting his head and scrutinising the other. What a waste—having a face like that with a temperament like this. And yet, the more he stared, the harder it was to deny just how absurdly bewitching the guy was.

The Uchiha clan’s great genes weren’t limited to just their kekkei genkai.

“Y’know, if I only went off looks, I might wanna take you for myself.” Suigetsu grinned, propping his chin on his palm. “But then I remember that you’re a walking emotional nightmare, and I’m not nearly masochistic enough for that.”

Sasuke’s fingers twitched under the water.

Suigetsu chuckled, shaking his head. “Seriously, how do so many people want to deal with you? A more reasonable course of action would be to take one look at your personality then run.” He flicked some water at Sasuke. “Guess Naruto’s just built different.”

The raven-haired one remained silent, but Suigetsu swore he saw the barest flicker of an eyebrow twitch.

“And what was that whole ‘joint custody’ argument?” Suigetsu mused. “Like, does he actually think he has exclusive rights to you or somethin’?” He let out a low whistle. “Hate to break it to him, but you’re way too high-maintenance for one person to handle.”

Suigetsu let his hand drift through the water before absentmindedly poking Sasuke’s bare shoulder. “Tch. You’re all tense again.” He grinned. “Is it ‘cause of me, or ‘cause I’m right?”

Sasuke swatted his hand away.

The white-haired man smirked. Gotcha.

“Maybe he just lost his mind while we were gone,” he continued, kicking his feet through the water lazily. “Three and a half weeks is a long time to go without your emotional support bastard.”

Sasuke remained unmoving, but Suigetsu noticed the way his jaw tensed, even just barely.

“He was waiting for you, y’know,” Suigetsu mused, his voice lighter now, teasing but pointed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he was lurking around this place the whole time. Naruto’s not exactly subtle, after all.”

Sasuke still stayed stubbornly silent. Suigetsu continued droning.

“Bet he was bugging anyone who’d listen—the neighbours, that weird cat that hangs around our porch, maybe even the old lady down the street,” he snorted. “Hell, I wouldn’t put it past him to have just stood there, staring at your front door like a sad little stray waiting for its owner.”

He let that hang for a second before adding with a smirk, “Kinda tragic, honestly.”

Sasuke let out a slow breath. Whether it was an attempt at patience or exhaustion, Suigetsu wasn’t sure. That didn’t stop him from pushing the matter further.

“You sure you didn’t have some secret rendezvous planned and just forgot to tell him?”

That finally got Sasuke to crack an eye open just a fraction.

Suigetsu barely held back a laugh. “Man, he was pissed. Not just regular Naruto–yelling–pissed—actually pissed. Like you personally offended his entire bloodline.” He chuckled. “Didn’t know you two were at the ‘abandonment issues’ stage of your relationship.”

The water rippled slightly as Sasuke shifted. His eyes were closed again now, but his fingers flexed under the surface.

Suigetsu hummed. “You know, if you wanna go smooth things over, you should probably—”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m drowning you.”

Suigetsu snorted. “Bold of you to assume I can drown.”

Sasuke’s right eye finally opened, not just a sliver this time, but wide enough to flash the red glow of the Mangekyou Sharingan.

“In Amaterasu.”

Suigetsu’s grin faltered slightly at that. Sasuke measured him with one long warning look before closing his eyes again.

And just like that, the bath returned to blissful silence—at least, until Suigetsu found something else to be annoying about.

Sasuke really hoped he wouldn’t.

…

..

.

TBC.

Chapter Text

3, Steam and shenanigans [Part 2]

Alternative title: The fine art of bullshit.

…

Sasuke ran a towel through his damp hair, muscles aching as he made his way toward his room. His plan was simple—collapse onto his futon and not move for the next ten hours.

Unfortunately, Suigetsu had other ideas.

“Oi.” The white-haired swordsman lazily draped a towel over his shoulders, rubbing his stomach. “I’m starving.”

Sasuke didn’t slow his steps. “Not my problem.”

Suigetsu scoffed. “Uh, yeah, it is your problem. Do you know what I had to suffer through the past three weeks? Rations, tasteless dried meat, overcooked rice… I think my taste buds died somewhere back in that godforsaken swamp.”

“Good. Then you won’t care what you eat now.”

“I do care.” Suigetsu groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. “Come on, Sasuke. I know you don’t wanna go out to eat either, and I refuse to cook for myself after everything we’ve been through. You cook.”

Sasuke turned to glare at him. “I just got back.”

Suigetsu smirked. “And? I had to listen to you complain about the mission for three and a half weeks. Consider this my compensation.”

Sasuke considered strangling him. Or better—putting him under a genjutsu where he’d be forced to eat endlessly until he either exploded or vomited himself to death.

Instead, he exhaled sharply through his nose and pinched the bridge of it. “Fine.”

Suigetsu fist-pumped in victory as they made their way to the kitchen. “You’re the best, dude.”

Sasuke ignored him, too tired to argue. He walked into their kitchen and just about to head to the ingredients cabinet when—

“You’re still here? ”

Naruto was sitting at the table, arms crossed, eyes burning with the same frustration from earlier. The moment he saw Sasuke, he shot up from his seat like he had been waiting.

Suigetsu snickered under his breath.

Sasuke’s previously subsided headache threatened to return.

“What the hell took you so long?” Naruto demanded, stepping forward. His gaze flickered between Sasuke and Suigetsu, narrowing. “Wait—don’t tell me you two—”

His voice cut off abruptly as his eyes landed on Sasuke—really looked at him.

Sasuke, fresh from the bath, with his still-damp hair clinging in soft strands around his face. The faint flush from the heat lingered on his pale skin, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jaw. He had barely tied his yukata properly, the loose fabric slipping just enough to expose a stretch of milky skin and the delicate curve of his collarbone.

And as he passed, Naruto caught the scent.

A soft, lingering trace of rose, undercut by something deeper—something clean, sharp, and unmistakably him. It wasn’t just the bath; it was Sasuke, like steel cooled under water, like crisp air before a storm. Subtle, but impossible to ignore.

Naruto swallowed. Harsh.

Oh, hell no.

A loud snicker echoed through the room.

Naruto snapped out of his trance instantly, his irritation from earlier roaring back full force.

“I knew it!” He slammed his hands on the table, causing the tea set to rattle. “You really let him bathe with you?!”

Suigetsu, who had been watching the whole thing unfold with unrestrained amusement, immediately clocked that moment of distraction. Oh-ho, interesting. So, for all his loud-mouthed protests, Naruto wasn’t immune to a freshly bathed Sasuke. That was information worth filing away for later.

Meanwhile, Sasuke—who had been utterly uninterested in this entire exchange—sighed and turned his attention back to their painfully scarce pantry. He barely spared Naruto a glance as he muttered, “I’m used to it. It’s no big deal.”

Apparently, that was not the right thing to say to an already irritated Naruto.

“Bullshit.” Naruto pointed an accusatory finger at Sasuke. “You—how could you just—do that?”

Suigetsu’s smirk grew wider. “Uh, yeah? What, did you expect him to tell me to wait outside like a sad little kid?” He crossed his arms. “Hate to break it to ya, blondie, but we’ve been on the road together for longer than you think. It’s called team bonding.”

“There’s more than one bathroom in this house!”

“So?” Suigetsu shrugged insouciantly. “Communal bathing is a Japanese tradition, and since it both conserves water and strengthens bonds among the parties involved, I see no reason to disregard the wisdom of our ancestors.”

Sasuke exhaled sharply and turned toward the stove. He put a pot over the burner before placing the few ingredients they had left on the counter. A few eggs, some rice, some miraculously hadn’t-rotten-yet vegetables, and whatever miso paste remained in the jar. He could make this work.

Meanwhile, Naruto gaped at Suigetsu, looking affronted. “You’re talking about conserving water?”

“Water is a precious resource. You shouldn’t let even one drop of it go to waste.”

“Your entire existence is already a huge waste of space and resources!”

“Wow. Rude.” Suigetsu snickered, eyeing Naruto from head to toe. “Is there something in your Uzumaki blood that just naturally has it out for me? Because both you and Karin throw insults at me like it’s a sport.”

“I can’t speak for her, but I do hate you.” Naruto crossed his arms. “You’re despicable.”

Suigetsu whistled. “Damn. You say that like you mean it.”

“I do mean it.”

Sasuke, who had been chopping vegetables with sharp, precise movements, finally exhaled and turned on the stove. He was so done with this conversation.

Suigetsu, on the other hand, was not.

“Must I remind you that Sasuke chose me of his own free will—over you?”

“Out of necessity, to achieve his goal,” Naruto spat back. “Juugo and Karin are there for the same reason. You’re not special, water boy.”

“Still better being one of the chosen than one of the left behind.”

Naruto’s entire body tensed, his right eye twitching dangerously.

Sasuke, now stirring the miso soup like it was the only thing keeping him sane, closed his eyes briefly.

He should have never come back to this house.

Behind him, much to his misfortune, Naruto and Suigetsu were still at it.

The white-haired man chuckled, propping his check on his palm, tilting his head to observe Naruto. “Man, you’re really pressed about this, huh? What, jealous?”

Naruto’s whole face twitched. “Of you? In your dreams.”

“You sound jealous.”

“I am not.”

Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose. Again.

Naruto turned his fiery gaze back on him. “And you! You just got back after three weeks, and this is how you act?”

Sasuke cracked an egg into a bowl. “How am I acting?”

Naruto waved his arms dramatically. “Like—like this! You barely said anything to me, and now you’re just cooking for this guy like it’s no big deal?!”

Suigetsu raised a hand. “Hey, I appreciate it.”

Naruto whipped around, snarling. “No one cares!”

Sasuke, beating the eggs with chopsticks, was about five seconds from setting something on fire—preferably both of them. “You’re both giving me a migraine.”

“Good!” Naruto shot back, still fuming. “Maybe you’ll finally know how it feels to be irritated for once!”

Suigetsu stretched lazily, propping his feet up on the chair next to him. His gaze flickered to the clock hanging on a wall, then a new realisation suddenly sank in.

“Hold on—” his grin widened as he did some mental maths. “We were in the bath for quite a while. You mean to tell me you’ve been sitting here this whole time?”

Naruto immediately stiffened. His eyes flickered away. “… No.”

Suigetsu let out a low whistle. “Wow.” He leaned back, grinning. “I take it back. That’s dedication.”

“I wasn’t waiting,” the blond grumbled.

“Uh-huh.” Suigetsu waved him off, looking all too pleased with himself. “You just happened to still be here, glaring at the door for, what—an hour?”

Naruto’s grip on the edge of the table tightened. He looked five seconds away from launching himself across it.

Sasuke, done with all of this, turned back to the stove, stirring the scrambled eggs with a little more force than necessary. “Shut up. Both of you.”

Suigetsu only smirked. Naruto huffed but fell silent.

For a brief, miraculous moment, peace settled over the kitchen.

Then—

“You know, we did talk about you a bit in the bath. Among other things.”

Naruto’s head snapped toward Suigetsu so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. “You what?!”

The white-haired man grinned, casually examining his hand. 

“Oh yeah. We had a nice little soak together,” Suigetsu mused, stretching leisurely. “Relaxing in the same tub, enjoying that rose-scented bath bomb. Very soothing atmosphere.”

Naruto choked on absolutely nothing. “You—you what?!”

Suigetsu hummed, as if reminiscing. “Yeah, real peaceful. The scent was nice, too. Kinda suited Sasuke, y’know? And he was all quiet, all still—just letting the warm water and the rose oil sink in.” His grin sharpened. “Kinda pretty, honestly.”

Naruto’s whole body bristled. “The hell he is!”

Sasuke, who had been pointedly ignoring them both in favour of tending to the pot, remained silent.

Suigetsu hummed, tilting his head. “Nah, I’d say he’s really alluring. The way his hair stuck to his skin, the water trailing down his—”

“Shut up.” Naruto looked ready to throw something. Probably the whole damn table.

Suigetsu cackled, purposefully leaving the rest unsaid. He had so many more details he could share, but why waste them all at once?

“Man,” he sighed, feigning wistfulness, “if looks could kill, I’d be dead right now.”

“That can be arranged,” Sasuke muttered, finally breaking his silence.

Suigetsu just grinned. “Worth it.”

Sasuke’s grip on the pan tightened. “Do you want to eat or not?”

“Yes, please.” Suigetsu purred, like a goddamn cat. A dangerous glint danced in his eyes. “I’m waiting for your skilled—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll throw your food out of the window.”

Suigetsu pouted, but after a brief consideration, his rumbling stomach won, so he clamped his mouth shut this time.

Sasuke almost wished that Suigetsu had kept talking so he would have a perfect excuse to throw the pan at his head.

He placed Suigetsu’s plate in front of him with a little more force than necessary before setting down two more portions for himself and Naruto. He didn’t acknowledge either of them as he took his seat, chopsticks in hand.

His appetite, however, had already begun its slow, painful death.

It started off deceptively quiet.

For all of six seconds.

Then—

“So, Sasuke made you dinner,” Naruto accused, jabbing his chopsticks in Suigetsu’s direction.

“Uh-huh.” Suigetsu made a small sound of acknowledgement, nodding half-heartedly. “And?”

Naruto looked personally offended as he turned toward Sasuke. “You just got back from who-knows-where, and you’re already cooking for him?” He jabbed his chopsticks at the white-haired man. “Did he even say thank you?”

Suigetsu blinked. “Huh. Good question.” He turned to Sasuke. “Hey, thanks for the meal.”

Sasuke did not dignify that with a response.

“I’d seen how exhausted you are after nearly a month on a mission,” Naruto huffed irritatedly. “You should be taking it easy, not cooking for some freeloading—”

“Freeloading?” Suigetsu raised an eyebrow, gesturing vaguely around. “Again, I live here, dumbass.”

Naruto scoffed. “Yeah, and you’re taking full advantage of it.”

Suigetsu swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “You say that like you wouldn’t want him making you dinner every night.”

Naruto opened his mouth, closed it, then turned his glare on the dark-haired man. 

“I wouldn’t let you be treated like a mere househusband, Sasuke.”

Suigetsu’s lips curved into a smirk. “Yeah? Then what would you let him be, huh?”

Sasuke sighed through his nose, rubbing his temple.

Here we go again.

“I mean, not just a damn housewife, that’s for sure,” Naruto snapped back. “Unlike some people, I actually respect Sasuke.”

Suigetsu gave him a flat look. “You’re acting like I forced him to cook for me at kunai-point.”

Naruto scowled. “Unbelievable.” He turned his fiery gaze back on Sasuke. “Why do you have to cook for him, huh?”

Sasuke avoided looking at either of them by staring off into the distance, muttering like he didn’t even wish to be heard. 

“Because if I don’t, he’ll eat instant ramen and raw fish straight from the fridge.”

Suigetsu grinned. “See? He cares.”

Naruto looked two seconds from throwing his bowl at Suigetsu’s head. He gestured aggressively at Sasuke. “He’s exhausted! But instead of resting, he’s here making food for you.”

Suigetsu shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, he does that, as you’ve stated, like, five times in the last ten minutes. And so what? This is just normal for us now.”

Naruto’s entire expression darkened, his grip tightening on his chopsticks. “What?”

Suigetsu snickered, clearly having the time of his life. “Oh yeah. He’s actually pretty good at it. Sometimes he even makes extra like this, just in case.” He leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming. “And guess what? He even does my laundry sometimes.”

Naruto slammed his hands onto the table, almost knocking over his bowl.

“You what?! ”

Sasuke finally looked up, expression eerily blank. “I will kill you.”

Suigetsu, utterly unfazed, took a slow, deliberate mouthful of miso soup. “He folds my shirts real nice, too.”

Naruto looked like he was about to combust. “Sasuke—why?”

Sasuke massaged his temple, trying to will away the inevitable aneurysm. He regretted ever sitting down in the first place. “I don’t know.”

There was a hurtful expression flashed across Naruto’s face. He looked personally betrayed. 

“Do you just… enjoy being a househusband for this guy?”

Sasuke leveled the blond with a withered look. “I am not a househusband.”

“That’s not what it looks like from where I’m sitting,” Suigetsu commented, adding oil to the fire.

Sasuke clenched his jaw, chopsticks tightening in his grip.

The white-haired man took another bite, humming in thought. “You know, between cooking for me and that bath, I think we might be closer than I thought.”

Naruto stiffened visibly. “Don’t you start that again.”

Suigetsu smirked. “Why not? It’s true. He let me wash his hair and everything.” He sighed, as if lost in fond recollection. “Man, what a sight. I should’ve taken my time with it.”

Naruto nearly sent his plate flying in his rush to jab a furious finger at the white-haired man, gritting through his teeth. “Liar.”

“Not at all,” Suigetsu said smoothly. “Now we mention it, he was actually pretty docile about it. Didn’t complain or anything.”

Naruto looked absolutely scandalised, and even slightly at the verge of hyperventilating. “You—he let you—” He turned to Sasuke, eyes burning with betrayal. “You let him touch your hair?”

“Oh yeah,” Suigetsu continued, clearly reveling in the reaction. “It was kinda nice, actually. His hair’s softer than it looks, and he let me do whatever I wanted. You should’ve seen him—hair all damp, cheeks flushed from the steam, water trailing down his skin…”

“Stop it!”

Suigetsu ignored the outburst, letting his voice drop into something dangerously close to appreciation. 

“He just sat there with his eyes closed, real quiet and still, didn’t even lift a finger to stop me. Like a doll, almost.”

Sasuke’s left eye twitched.

Naruto looked one second away from combusting. “You—” He turned back to Sasuke, the distress rolling off his whole figure seemed almost tangible. “And you just let that happen?”

Sasuke resisted the growing desire to break something. Preferably either of those two’s necks. “It’s not that deep.”

Suigetsu hummed. “That’s what you think.”

Naruto’s hand was gripping the table so hard it creaked. His body was slightly shaking with barely restrained fury.

“I can’t believe this.”

Suigetsu, ever the instigator, leaned back with a smug grin. “Honestly, you missed out. I’d say it was very intimately domestic.”

For a brief moment, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Naruto’s pupils thinned into slits, his chakra spiking just enough to send a faint ripple through the air. 

Then he abruptly stood up and kicked his chair. Hard.

Suigetsu just leaned back, looking far too satisfied with himself as he delivered the killing blow.

“Face it, man. When it comes to living with Sasuke, I’ve already got you beat.”

Something inside Naruto fractured. The killing intent hit like a tidal wave as he lunged at Suigetsu, fingers curled into claws.

The chopsticks in Sasuke’s hand snapped clean in half. He closed his eyes, willing away the urge to set the whole house on fire.

He really should have never come back.

.

.

“We still can’t go in yet?” Sakura asked, for about the third time in half an hour.

“Shhh,” Karin hissed, pressing a finger to her lips. “I think Sasuke-kun is actually near his limit this time. One more misstep, and he might commit murder.”

“Against Naruto and Suigetsu?” Sakura mused, arms crossed. “Can’t say that isn’t guaranteed at some point.” She tilted her head. “Still don’t get why you can’t go in. You live there.”

“To become collateral damage in whatever’s brewing inside?” Karin scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Sakura smirked. “Aren’t you being a little dramatic?”

Karin gave her a deadpan look. Right at that moment, a loud crash echoed from inside the house, followed by several clattering sounds.

The redhead sighed. “See? That’s exactly why I’m staying out here.”

Sakura hummed, only mildly interested. “Well, at least they’re not dead.”

“Yet,” Karin muttered darkly. 

A blood-curdling scream rang through the air.

She and Sakura exchanged a look.

Then, after a beat, the redhead straightened and turned fully toward the pink-haired girl with an almost casual air. 

“Say, Sakura-san… If you’ve got some free time right now, wanna go shopping with me?”

Sakura raised her eyebrow. “You say it like I haven’t been spending my free time here, watching you stalk your own housemates through walls.”

Karin sniffed, but didn’t defend herself on that.

Sakura chuckled, shaking her head. “But sure, why not?”

Karin visibly relaxed. “Great. Let’s go buy some food.”

And with that, they left—just as another scream rang out from inside the house.

Neither of them looked back.

…

Chapter Text

4, A little birdie told me…

…

“I’m glad that the house is still mostly intact,” Juugo stood near the center of their shared living room, his broad frame silhouetted against the light as he surveyed the wreckage with a calm, almost bemused expression. “It’s too soon for us to have a fourth housewarming party.”

The late afternoon sun slanted through the cracked windows of their house, casting jagged golden stripes across the living room—or what was left of it. A faint haze of dust lingered in the air, kicked up from the earlier chaos, and the faint scent of charred wood tickled the nose. 

The dining table—once a sturdy slab of wood—was now a splintered ruin, one corner reduced to a pile of ash and twisted legs. Nearby, the living room’s far wall bore a fresh scar, its plaster cracked and blackened.

Suigetsu, lounging against the doorway with his arms crossed, let out a sharp snort. His pale hair glinted in the fading light.

“That’s the only thing you have to say?” His violet eyes gleamed with mischief. “For the record, Sasuke did it.”

Juugo didn’t even glance his way, his gaze still fixed on the table’s remains. “No doubt you provoked him.”

“Hey!” Suigetsu straightened, his grin faltering into a mock scowl as he jabbed a finger toward Juugo. “I wasn’t the only one! Naruto was in on it too.”

Karin adjusted her glasses with a prim flick of her wrist, her red hair catching the sunlight like a flame. She stood near the ruined wall, arms crossed, her expression a mix of exasperation and begrudging admiration. 

“Honestly, I’m impressed Sasuke-kun managed to keep the damage this minimal,” she said, nodding approvingly. “I expected way more destruction.”

Suigetsu threw his hands up, his voice rising in disbelief. 

“Oh, sure. I throw a spoon, and you scream bloody murder. But Sasuke wrecks half the room, and suddenly it’s admirable? Favouritism much, huh?”

Karin didn’t miss a beat, her lips curling into a smirk as she shot the white-haired man a sidelong glance. 

“At this point, you should already know that any favouritism I have toward you is purely negative.” She didn’t bother denying the accusation, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “Besides, you’re just an idiot with destructive tendencies. Sasuke-kun, on the other hand—when he breaks things, there’s always a reason.”

“Unbelievable,” Suigetsu muttered, rolling his eyes so hard it looked like they might pop out of his head.

“Sasuke,” Juugo cut in, his voice a low rumble as he turned to their leader, who leaned against the far wall with an air of detached boredom, “do we fix this ourselves, or…?”

Sasuke shrugged, his dark eyes half-lidded, as if the entire conversation was beneath his notice. “Whichever is fine.”

Suigetsu’s jaw dropped, and he gestured wildly at the wreckage. “Fix it ourselves? None of us knows wood jutsu or anything useful for that.”

“Or, y’know,” Karin interjected, pushing her glasses up her nose with a smug little smile, “we could do it the traditional way. With hammers and stuff.”

“Hammers and stuff,” Suigetsu echoed, spitting out each word slowly as if they were laced with venom. He fixed her with a withering stare. “You don’t even know the names of those tools, do you?”

“I don’t need to know their names to use them,” the redhead snapped, her cheeks flushing faintly as she crossed her arms tighter. “Just like I don’t need to listen to all your blabbering to know there’s not a single active brain cell in that empty skull of yours.”

“Do we even have a toolbox in this house?” Juugo asked, his calm tone slicing through the brewing storm before Suigetsu could retort.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Suigetsu shot back anyway, ignoring Juugo’s attempt at peacekeeping as he rounded on Karin, “coming from the woman who once called a wrench ‘that twisty thingy’ and tried to hammer a nail with the blunt end of a kunai!”

Karin huffed, her glasses glinting as she tilted her chin defiantly. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“No, it did not!” Suigetsu’s voice pitched higher, his hands flailing. “You bent the nail and then blamed the table for being ‘too hard’!”

“We should,” Sasuke said abruptly, answering Juugo’s earlier question as he pushed off the wall with a faint sigh. His expression remained impassive, though a flicker of irritation crossed his face as he tuned out the squabbling. “Let’s go check.”

The two of them strode toward the storage closet down the hall, their footsteps muffled by the wooden floor. Behind them, Karin and Suigetsu’s bickering trailed like an annoying echo, though Juugo and Sasuke pretended not to hear.

The closet door creaked as Sasuke yanked it open, revealing a shadowy mess of forgotten junk—old kunai pouches, a broken broom, and a suspiciously sticky jar no one dared touch. Juugo crouched, rummaging through the clutter until he unearthed a battered metal toolbox shoved into the dusty corner. He hauled it out with a grunt and set it down with a heavy thunk, flipping the lid open.

A long, awkward silence stretched across the group as they peered inside.

“… Why are there only three things in here?” 

Suigetsu finally asked, his voice flat with disbelief. He stared at the pitiful contents: a rusty screwdriver, a bent wrench, and an empty roll of tape that looked like it’d been chewed on by something.

Karin scoffed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Because someone in this house doesn’t know how to put things back where they belong.”

“Oh, yeah, obviously it’s my fault,” Suigetsu said, throwing his hands skyward in mock surrender. “I never use tools, ever, but sure, let’s blame me for the lack of them.”

“It’s definitely your fault,” Karin confirmed without hesitation, her tone matter-of-fact.

Suigetsu gawked at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “How?!”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I don’t know, but it’s your fault.”

Juugo sighed, running a hand through his hair as he straightened up. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. We don’t have what we need to fix the table.” He turned to Sasuke, who stood with his arms crossed, staring at the toolbox like it had personally offended him. “What do you want to do? Find someone to fix it, or just buy a new one?”

Sasuke exhaled through his nose, his expression one of deep-seated regret for ever agreeing to live with these people. “Whichever is fine.”

“Well, that’s helpful,” Suigetsu muttered, kicking at a stray splinter on the floor.

“We should probably see if we can get someone to fix it before we waste money on a new one,” Karin decided, adjusting her glasses with a decisive nod. “That way, we don’t have to lug an entire table all the way back here.”

“I’d rather buy a new one,” Suigetsu countered, smirking as he leaned against the wall. “The table’s already kinda crappy anyway. It wouldn’t kill us to get an upgrade.”

All eyes turned to Juugo, who stood with his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, he nodded slowly. “Either option is fine.”

Suigetsu groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, come on.”

Karin pinched the bridge of her nose, her patience visibly fraying. “We’re getting nowhere with this.”

“Well,” Suigetsu said, his smirk widening as a gleam sparked in his eyes, “there is one way to settle this.”

“No,” Sasuke said immediately, his voice cutting through like a blade.

Suigetsu pouted, slumping dramatically. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“You were going to suggest a fight,” Sasuke deadpanned, his dark gaze unwavering. “No.”

“Tch. Killjoy.”

Deciding to escape the endless loop of indecision, Sasuke stepped outside. His housemates followed suit to at least pretend they were being proactive. 

The cool air marked the start of the evening hit them like a calming breeze. The sky had deepened to a soft indigo, streaked with the last traces of orange near the horizon. They milled about on the porch when a familiar figure approached from the dirt path leading to the house.

“Ah,” Sai greeted, his pale face illuminated by the faint glow of a lantern swinging from a nearby post. His usual blank smile curved his lips as he stopped a few paces away. “So, you all finally decided to leave your cave.”

Suigetsu scowled, his hands jamming into his pockets. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just an observation,” Sai replied smoothly, his dark eyes scanning the group with calm curiosity. “You seem troubled. Did something unfortunate happen?”

“Our dining table’s broken,” Juugo said simply, his tone as even as ever as he crossed his arms.

Sai blinked, tilting his head slightly. “Broken how?”

Juugo shrugged, a faint twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “More like burnt down.”

“Was it Sasuke’s doing?”

“Yes,” Suigetsu and Karin said in unison, their voices overlapping with perfect timing.

Sasuke, predictably, didn’t bother to deny it, his expression remaining as stony as the cracked wall behind him.

“How bad was it?” Sai continued.

“Burnt more than half,” Juugo described. “Broken legs. The other half looks slightly salvageable, but I’m not certain.”

“I see,” Sai said, tapping a finger against his chin as he considered this. “And now you’re struggling to decide whether to repair or replace it?”

Juugo nodded. “That’s right.”

Sai’s smile widened fractionally, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You could always do neither.”

Suigetsu scoffed, kicking at the dirt with a sneer. 

“What, and just not have a table? What kind of suggestion is that?”

“A practical one,” Sai replied, unfazed. “I’ve been to your house. None of you eat at the table most of the time anyway.”

A heavy silence fell over the group as they processed this unexpectedly uncomfortable truth. Karin coughed into her fist, her cheeks tinting pink; while Suigetsu scratched the back of his neck, suddenly very interested in the ground.

“… Well,” Karin said, rallying, “that’s beside the point.”

“No, actually,” Juugo said, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he looked down at Sai. “That’s a fair point.”

“I’m just saying,” Sai continued, his tone as placid as a still pond, “you could save yourselves a lot of time and effort by not replacing it at all. Perhaps consider a new arrangement? A lower table with cushions, maybe? Or a foldable one you can store when not in use?”

Karin frowned, her brow creasing. “That almost makes too much sense.”

“It’s a little concerning that Sai is making more sense than us,” Suigetsu muttered, shooting a wary glance at the artist. “That can’t be a good sign.”

“I’m a practical person,” Sai said pleasantly, not one bit fazed by the negative implication in Suigetsu’s words.

Juugo hummed, his gaze drifting to the small canary that had just flitted down to perch on his outstretched finger. Its tiny claws gripped his skin as it chirped softly. 

“It’s not a bad idea.”

Karin turned toward Sasuke, “What do you think?”

Sasuke tilted his head, a few strands falling onto his cheek. “Okay.”

“Okay with what?” Suigetsu threw both his arms in the air in a mock surrender. “Did you even listen to this ridiculous conversation?”

“Enough to hear that Sai’s making more sense than you,” Sasuke said flatly, each word precise and cutting.

Karin cackled gleefully. Even Juugo’s mouth twitched into a ghostly smile. Suigetsu glared daggers at Sai, who was still wearing his perfect poker face.

“Fine, whatever. Just do what you want.”

Finally, the white-haired man sighed in defeat. He spun on his heel, his boots scuffing the porch as he stalked back toward the house. The door banged shut behind him, a punctuation mark to his exit. 

No one made a move to stop him.

“You should go to the furniture stores in the market tomorrow, though,” Sai suggested after a while when nobody else said anything. “Most of them are already closed now.”

Juugo shifted, the canary taking flight with a flutter of tiny wings as he turned to Sai. “You have any recommendations?” he asked, his voice steady and practical. “We’re not familiar with this place.”

Sai tapped a finger against his chin, his brow furrowing slightly in thought. The gesture was deliberate, almost theatrical, as if he were posing for a portrait. After a beat, he nodded. 

“Sure. We can meet tomorrow—I’ll go with you guys.”

Karin raised an eyebrow, her smirk softening into something faintly approving. “Huh. That’s actually helpful.”

Sasuke pushed off the wall, his hands sliding into his pockets as he turned toward the house without a word. Juugo watched him go, then gave Sai a small, appreciative nod. 

“Tomorrow, then.”

…

“Tell me again,” Suigetsu groaned while dragging a hand across his face, his voice gravelly with lingering drowsiness. “Why do we have to wake up at the asscrack of dawn for this?”

“You can always sleep in and skip the trip,” Karin shot back at him, fumbling with her shoe laces. “You’ll not be useful, after all.”

“Right back at you,” Suigetsu snorted, pushing off the wall with a lazy swagger. He turned to Sasuke, who stood near the window, arms crossed and staring out at the misty yard with his usual air of detachment. “Hey, can we just leave her here? It’s not like she knows the differences between, like, oak and walnut for example, anyway.”

The front door creaked open, its hinges groaning as Juugo’s towering figure filled the frame. His broad shoulders brushed the sides, and a faint whiff of dew-damp grass clung to his clothes as he stepped inside. His eyes were calm, almost serene, despite the chaos brewing around him. 

“Neither of you should skip this,” he said, his deep voice steady as he adjusted the strap of a small satchel slung over his shoulder. “We’ll decide on a table we all want together so nobody’s gonna complain about the others’ choice later.”

Suigetsu blinked at him, his mouth twisting into a scowl. 

“Why the hell were you outside even before the asscrack of dawn?”

“Bird watching,” Juugo replied with a casual shrug, his expression softening as he glanced toward the window. “Sai knows this great spot where he usually sketches the scenery.”

Karin straightened, her glasses glinting as she snickered in disbelief. 

“And since when are you so chummy with that weirdo?”

Juugo ignored the jab, turning his attention to Suigetsu with a faint shake of his head. “It’s nine in the morning, so it’s not that early anymore,” he said, deflecting her question smoothly. He scanned the group, his gaze lingering on each of them. “I assume you all had breakfast?”

Sasuke gave a faint “Hn,” his dark eyes flicking briefly to Juugo before returning to the window.

“Coffee counts, right?” Suigetsu muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Karin rolled her eyes, yanking her laces tight with a sharp tug. “Barely.”

Juugo supposed that was good enough. “Let’s go.”

.

By the time they reached the village market, the sun had climbed higher, casting a warm golden glow over the stalls. The air buzzed with the hum of voices—vendors shouting prices, children darting between legs, and the rhythmic clatter of carts rolling over uneven dirt paths. The scent of fresh-baked bread mingled with the earthy tang of polished wood as the group wove through the crowd, Sai leading the way with his usual placid stride.

“This place is a maze,” Suigetsu grumbled, sidestepping a merchant who thrust a tray of carved figurines in his face. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunched. “We’re gonna get lost and end up with some overpriced chairs instead of a table.”

Sai glanced back at him, his blank smile unwavering. “The furniture section is just ahead,” he said, his tone as calm as a still pond. “It’s organised by type—tables on the left, chairs on the right. You’ll survive.”

“Organised?” Karin scoffed, adjusting her glasses as she scanned the chaotic sprawl of stalls. “This looks like someone dumped a warehouse and called it a market.”

“It has its own logic,” Sai replied, unfazed, gesturing toward a row of wooden structures gleaming in the sunlight. “You’ll see.”

Juugo walked beside Sai, his steady pace cutting through the crowd like a ship through waves as he asked, voice low but curious.

“You’ve been here before?” 

“Sometimes,” Sai said, tapping a finger against his chin. “The light here is good for sketching. And the vendors are… colourful.” 

His dark eyes flicked toward a burly man haggling loudly over a stool, a faint flicker of amusement crossing his face.

Their first stop was a cramped stall piled high with tables of every shape and size. A wiry woman with a crooked grin greeted them, her hands stained with wood polish. 

“Lookin’ for somethin’ sturdy?” She asked, patting a broad oak table that looked like it could withstand a siege.

“Sturdy’s good,” Juugo said, crouching to inspect the legs. His fingers traced the grain, testing for flaws. “But it’s heavy. Too much to carry back.”

“Pfft, weak,” Suigetsu teased, leaning against a wobbly side table that creaked under his weight. He yelped as it tipped, catching himself with a flailing arm. “Okay, maybe not that one.”

Karin smirked, her arms crossed. “Smooth, genius. Maybe stick to looking instead of breaking.”

“Like you’re any better,” Suigetsu shot back, straightening with a scowl. “You’d probably pick some gaudy thing with flowers carved all over it.”

Sasuke, standing a few paces back, tilted his head at the oak table. The gaze in his eyes was unreadable. “Hmm…”

“Helpful as always,” Suigetsu muttered, rolling his eyes.

Sai stepped forward, his gaze sweeping the stall. “There’s a foldable one in the corner,” he noted, pointing to a sleek, narrow table tucked behind a stack of chairs. “Lightweight. Practical.”

Juugo moved to examine it, unfolding it with a smooth click of its hinges. The wood was a warm cedar, simple but well-crafted. 

“This could work,” he said, glancing at Sasuke. “What do you think?”

“Fine,” Sasuke replied, his dark eyes giving the table a cursory glance before drifting elsewhere.

“Great input,” Karin said dryly, though her lips twitched with amusement.

They moved on, Sai guiding them to a larger stall where an old man displayed an array of low tables and cushions. The centerpiece was a kotatsu—a squat, square table with a thick blanket draped over it and a heater underneath. The wood gleamed a deep cherry red, its edges smooth and inviting.

“Now that’s cool,” Suigetsu said, crouching to peer under the blanket. “We could nap under this thing all winter.”

Karin raised an eyebrow, her glasses glinting skeptically. “You’d set it on fire within a week.”

“Not if I’m careful,” Suigetsu grinned, poking at the heater with a finger. “Which I totally can be.”

“Sure you can,” she snorted, turning to Sai. “Is this thing practical, or is he just drooling over it for no reason?”

Sai tilted his head, studying the kotatsu with his usual clinical calm. “It’s efficient,” he said. “Keeps you warm and serves as a table. Though Suigetsu might indeed misuse it.”

“Misuse?” Suigetsu protested, standing up with mock indignation. “I’d treat it like royalty!”

“You’d treat it like a footrest,” Karin corrected, her smirk widening.

Juugo ran a hand along the kotatsu’s edge, his expression thoughtful. “It’s not a bad idea,” he said, then turned to the vendor. “How much?”

“7,500 ryo,” the old man rasped, scratching his stubbled chin. “Heater’s included. A good deal, I tell ya.”

“7,500?” Suigetsu whistled, then glanced at Sasuke. “You cool with that, boss?”

Sasuke shrugged insouciantly as he stared at the kotatsu. Juugo waited, but after a moment, their raven-haired leader only gave a slow, almost drowsy blink as if his mind wasn’t even fully here.

“Guess that’s a yes,” Suigetsu muttered.

Karin frowned, tapping her foot. “We’d still need something for when it’s not freezing. That foldable one’s still on the table—pun intended.”

Suigetsu snickered, “That’s a terrible one.”

Juugo nodded, his gaze steady as he ignored the white-haired man’s jab at Karin. 

“We can get both. The foldable for daily use, the kotatsu specially for winter. Covers all bases.” 

Sai’s smile widened faintly, a rare hint of approval in his eyes. “A balanced choice,” he commented. “You’re more decisive than you look.”

“Someone has to be.” 

Juugo replied, his tone dry as he handed over the money to the vendors—5,000 for the foldable table, 7,500 for the kotatsu. The clink of metal echoed faintly.

The wiry old man counted the money with a satisfied grunt, his weathered fingers curling around the stack as he promised to deliver the kotatsu later that day. The woman from the first stall gave a crooked grin and a nod.

Sai stood nearby, his dark eyes glinting with a hint of amusement as he watched the transaction. 

“For someone who said you don’t have savings,” he noted, his tone light but carrying a subtle tease, “you whipped out the money pretty fast.”

“We don’t,” Juugo confirmed with a small nod, his expression calm and unperturbed. He shifted his grip on the foldable table, hefting its cedar frame under one arm with ease, the wood warm against his side. “It’s Sasuke’s.”

Suigetsu clapped his hands together, grinning. 

“Alright, mission accomplished! Now can we get food? I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Karin snapped, but her stomach growled audibly, betraying her. She flushed, shoving her glasses up her nose. “Fine, let’s eat.”

Sasuke gave a small nod, already turning toward a nearby food stall wafting the scent of grilled skewers.

As they wandered off, Sai fell into step beside Juugo, his voice low. “They’re louder than the market itself,” he observed, his tone faintly amused.

Juugo glanced at the bickering duo ahead, a small smile tugging at his lips. “They are,” he agreed, adjusting the table under his arm. “But it’s familiar.”

.

As they walked back to their house, Juugo singlehandedly carried the foldable table under one arm with ease. Behind him, Suigetsu and Karin bickered over a skewer of grilled chicken they’d snagged from the market, the greasy paper wrapper crinkling as they tugged it back and forth.

“I paid for it, so it’s mine!” 

Karin snapped, yanking the skewer toward her. Her glasses slipped down her nose, and she shoved them back up with an impatient flick.

“You paid with group money, Tomato,” Suigetsu retorted, his grin sharp as he pulled it back. “That makes it ours. Gimme a bite!”

“Over my dead body,” the redhead growled, clutching it like a prized kunai.

Sasuke walked a few paces ahead, hands in his pockets, his dark hair ruffling in the breeze. He didn’t spare them a glance, clearly trying his best to tune their bickering all out. The only word he said was a soft Bye to Sai when he bid them goodbye in front of their house. After Sai left, Sasuke unlocked the door, leaving it open for his housemates.

Juugo pushed the door open wider with his free hand, stepping into the familiar clutter of their living room. The air inside was cool and slightly musty, the charred remains of their old table still piled in the corner like a sad monument. He set the foldable table down with a soft thud before unfolding it. The wood gleamed warmly against the scratched floorboards, its simple design a stark contrast to the chaos it replaced.

“Finally,” Suigetsu said, abandoning the skewer fight to flop onto the couch. He kicked his boots up onto the new table, smudging it with a streak of dirt. “This thing’s not half bad. Kinda boring, though.”

Karin stormed over, skewer still in hand, and swatted his legs off with a sharp smack. “Get your filthy feet off it, you animal! We just got this!”

“Ow!” Suigetsu yelped, rubbing his shin with exaggerated indignation. “What’s your problem? It’s a table, not a shrine!”

“It’s our table,” she shot back, planting herself in front of it protectively. “And I’m not letting you ruin it on day one.”

Juugo ignored them, adjusting the table’s position so it sat evenly in the center of the room, then adding the chairs around. He stepped back, hands on his hips, and nodded. 

“It fits,” he said simply, then glanced at Sasuke, who’d settled into an armchair with his usual air of disinterest. “Good enough?”

“Sure,” Sasuke replied, his dark eyes flicking over the setup before drifting to the window.

“Poetic as always,” Suigetsu muttered, sprawling back on the couch. He snatched the skewer from Karin’s distracted grip and took a triumphant bite, grinning through a mouthful of chicken. “Mmm. Worth it.”

Karin’s shriek of outrage echoed through the house as she lunged at him, but Juugo stepped between them with a sigh. “Enough,” he said, his deep voice firm. “Let’s eat properly. We’ve got the table now—use it.”

Grumbling, Suigetsu slid off the couch and joined Karin at the table, where she’d reluctantly set out the rest of their market haul—more skewers, a loaf of crusty bread, and a jar of pickled plums. 

Sasuke drifted over without a word, taking a seat at the far end, his movements silent and precise. Juugo sat last, tearing off a piece of bread and passing the loaf around. For a few minutes, the room was quiet save for the clink of utensils and the occasional rustle of wrappers—a rare moment of peace.

“This is actually kinda nice,” Suigetsu admitted, leaning back with a satisfied sigh after polishing off his third skewer. “Beats eating on the floor.”

Karin smirked, popping a plum into her mouth. “Don’t get used to it. You’ll still find a way to ruin this.”

“Bet I won’t,” he shot back, flicking a crumb at her. She dodged with a scowl, and the truce dissolved into their usual sniping.

.

As dusk settled over the house, casting long shadows through the cracked windows, a sharp knock sounded at the door. Juugo rose to answer it. 

Outside stood the old vendor from the market, his cart creaking under the weight of the cherry-red kotatsu. Beside him, Sai lingered with his usual blank smile, a small sketchbook tucked under his arm.

“Delivery,” the vendor rasped, gesturing to the kotatsu. “Where d’you want it?”

“Inside,” Juugo said, stepping aside to let the man wheel it in. Sai followed, his dark eyes scanning the room with quiet curiosity.

Suigetsu perked up from the couch, where he’d been sprawled with a half-eaten plum. “Sweet! The nap machine’s here!”

“Oh.” Sasuke said, his tone flat as he rose from his chair to inspect the delivery.

Karin hopped up, her glasses glinting as she peered over Juugo’s shoulder. “Fancy. Sai, you’re sticking around to help set this up?”

“I can,” Sai replied, setting his sketchbook on the new table. “It’s simple enough.”

The vendor grunted as he and Juugo maneuvered the kotatsu into a clean corner of the room, its thick blanket rustling softly. Sai knelt beside it, attaching the heater with deft movements, while Juugo unfolded the frame. Sasuke watched from a distance, arms crossed, offering no assistance beyond the occasional “Hn” when asked for input.

“Plug it in over there,” Sai directed, nodding toward an outlet near the wall. Suigetsu scrambled to comply, dragging the cord with a grin.

“Gonna be so cozy,” he said, plugging it in. The heater hummed to life, a faint warmth seeping through the blanket. He flopped onto the floor, scooting under it until only his head poked out. “I’m never leaving.”

Karin rolled her eyes, nudging him with her foot. “You look ridiculous.”

“You’re just jealous,” he mumbled, eyes half-closed as he basked in the heat.

Sai stood, brushing off his hands as he surveyed the setup. “It’s done,” he said, his tone placid. “Should last you through winter.”

Juugo studied the kotatsu, then turned to Sai, his lips quirking into a rare, genuine smile. 

“You truly commit yourself to the role of our nosy neighbour,” he noted, his voice carrying a quiet fondness as he met Sai’s gaze.

Sai tilted his head, his expression unreadable, though a flicker of amusement danced in his dark eyes. 

“Are you annoyed by that?”

Juugo considered this, his thumb brushing gently against the soft material of the kotatsu’s blanket. After a beat, he shook his head. 

“No, not really. You’re nosy in a calm way. I don’t mind that.”

Sai chuckled, a soft, dry sound that barely stirred the air, like leaves rustling in a faint breeze. “That doesn’t really make sense.”

“Not everything in life needs to make sense.”

Juugo’s smile widened faintly, steady and warm as he held Sai’s gaze. Karin snorted from her spot at the table, breaking the moment. 

“Deep thoughts from the bird whisperer. What’s next, poetry?”

“Better than your whining,” Suigetsu shot back from under the kotatsu, his voice muffled but smug.

“Shut it, heater hog,” she snapped, tossing a plum pit at him. It bounced off his forehead, and he yelped, flailing under the blanket.

Sasuke shook his head, sinking back into the chair with a weary sigh as if resigned to the endless noise. Juugo exchanged a glance with Sai, who offered a faint, knowing nod before picking up his sketchbook.

“See you around,” Sai said, slipping out the door into the night, leaving the team to their newly furnished chaos.

…

Chapter Text

5, Maybe it’s in our Uzumaki genes.

…

It had actually taken Naruto more than two months for the idea that Karin was his cousin to fully sink in.

Well, maybe not that direct of a cousin. Probably a few generations removed or something—he wasn’t exactly an expert on genealogy. He barely knew anything about his parents’ extended family, and Karin didn’t even know who hers were. They didn’t look alike, either. But still, they shared the same last name, and apparently, she had the same fiery red hair as his mother.

Naruto hoped the resemblance ended there, though, because it was hard—and slightly unsettling, if he was being honest—to imagine his own mom acting anything like Karin.

Not that he disliked her or anything. More like… they didn’t actually know each other. And, up until now, neither of them had really shown any desire to change that.

The only real link between them, ironically enough, had nothing to do with blood and everything to do with one Sasuke Uchiha.

Well, that—and their shared loathing of Suigetsu.

Naruto wasn’t sure he could bond with Karin over her obsession and his definitely-not-obsession with Sasuke, but they could at least partner up on the noble mission of making Suigetsu’s life miserable. 

Too bad that absolute menace had such a filthy mouth that he could battle them 2-on-1 without breaking a sweat, and even end up being victorious half of the time. He had an innate talent to get under other people’s skin, Naruto would give him that.

Still, though, during the months following team Taka’s third housewarming party, something shifted. Small, but enough to be noticeable. 

It started with a late-night rant—Naruto griping about Sasuke’s latest vanishing act, Karin snarking about Suigetsu’s latest jab—until they realised they’d been griping together. A few more shared eye-rolls and muttered curses later, they’d struck an unexpected truce: allies against a common foe—Suigetsu, with Sasuke as the messy glue holding it all together. 

They didn’t talk about that, not really. It wasn’t exactly a family reunion, either, but it was a start.

…

..

.

Karin wasn’t sure what was more frustrating: the fact that Sasuke had left again without a word, or the fact that she had been staring at the hall led to his empty room for the last twenty minutes like some lovesick fool.

No, scratch that. The most frustrating thing was that she wasn’t alone in doing so.

On the other side of the table, Naruto sat slumped over with his cheek squished against the wood, glaring at the same spot. He’d been like that since he arrived—storming into the house, demanding to know where Sasuke was, only to deflate into sulking upon realising he was, once again, gone.

Karin adjusted her glasses and huffed, breaking the silence. “You’re pathetic.”

Naruto lifted his head just enough to squint at her. “You’re literally doing the same thing.”

“I am not sulking.”

“Yeah? Then what do you call staring at the way to his room like you can summon him with sheer willpower?”

Karin scowled. Okay, maybe she was sulking a little. But unlike Naruto, she at least had the self-awareness not to be that obvious about it.

A tense silence stretched between them before Naruto groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair. 

“Ugh, why do we even care so much?”

Karin adjusted her glasses, lips pursed. “Good question.”

They sat in contemplation, both aware that their preoccupation with one Sasuke Uchiha went beyond what was normal, but neither particularly eager to admit it out loud.

“I mean, it’s not like he ever asks us to chase after him,” Naruto muttered, propping his chin on his palm. “He actually gets pissed when we do.”

Karin sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Naruto turned his head toward her, expression thoughtful. “You’ve known him for a long time, right?”

“Long enough,” Karin replied vaguely. “Since he was twelve.”

“And you’ve always been, y’know…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely.

Karin narrowed her eyes. “What? Attracted to him?”

Naruto wrinkled his nose. “I was gonna say obsessed, but sure, let’s go with that.”

She glared. “As if you’re any better.”

“I know! That’s what’s so messed up!” Naruto threw his hands in the air. “I mean, I get why I was chasing him back then—he was my best friend! I couldn’t just let him leave! But now?” He groaned, dramatically slumping forward. “It’s like I can’t help it! Even when I tell myself to just let him be, I still end up looking for him!”

Karin tapped her fingers on the table, considering for a long, thoughtful moment. 

“You ever think it’s, like… a compulsion?”

Naruto blinked. “Huh?”

She leaned forward, voice lowering slightly. “I mean, think about it. You and I? We’re both Uzumaki.”

Naruto made a face. “Yeah, and?”

Karin smirked, pushing up her glasses. “And we both have this weird, unshakable attachment to Sasuke of all people. Even when he’s cold, even when he pushes us away, we keep coming back. Doesn’t that sound a little suspicious to you?”

Naruto frowned. “Wait, are you saying…” He sat up, eyes widening. “You think it’s genetic?”

“Think about it,” Karin continued. “Our clan was known for distinct chakra, right? And strong life forces?”

Naruto nodded slowly.

“Well, maybe part of that ‘strong life force’ includes extreme attachment issues,” she deadpanned. “Like, we’re wired to stick by people no matter what.”

Naruto leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. When he spoke again, he said each word slowly as if tasting them along the way.

“So… you’re saying it’s not my fault I can’t give up on him?”

Karin snorted. “Oh, no, it’s still your fault. I’m just saying there might be a reason we’re both so stubborn about it.”

The blond stared at her. Then, slowly, his expression shifted into something disturbingly close to acceptance. 

“… That actually makes a lot of sense.”

Karin snapped her fingers. “Exactly! It’s the only explanation that fits! I mean, come on—what are the odds that both of us, completely separately, would end up fixating on the same emotionally unavailable Uchiha?”

Naruto scratched the back of his head, grimacing. “Man, when you put it like that, it sounds even worse.”

The redhead rubbed her temples as she made the same face. “This is actually kind of disturbing.”

Naruto groaned. “You’re telling me! I don’t wanna be genetically doomed to cling to Sasuke forever!”

Karin scoffed. “Too late for that.”

Naruto grumbled something under his breath before sighing. “Well, at least now I can blame genetics instead of my bad life choices.”

Karin raised a brow. “Why not both?”

Naruto shot her a dirty look. She just flatly stared back.

“Okay, but seriously,” Naruto broke their eye contact as he said, crossing his arms. “If this is an Uzumaki thing, how come you’re not chasing after him right now?”

Karin smirked. “Who says I’m not? I just have better self-control than you do.”

Naruto rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Last week you were ranting about how you’d drag him back here yourself if he didn’t stop sulking in the woods.”

“Details,” Karin waved him off. “Point is, I’m not the one running after him every five minutes like a lost puppy.”

“Hey!” Naruto protested loudly. “I’m not a puppy! I’m… I’m a fox, okay? Fierce and independent!”

The redhead gave him a flat look, unimpressed.

“You do realise foxes are in the canine family, right? You’re still a lovesick pup when it comes to Sasuke.”

Naruto opened his mouth to argue, then closed it with a huff. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here you are, still talking to me,” she quipped, smirking again.

Naruto glared at Karin for a moment, then let out a long, dramatic sigh, running a hand through his spiky blond hair. 

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, staring at the table as if it held the answers to his problems. “I mean, we can’t just keep doing this forever, right? There’s gotta be a way to… I dunno, fix it.”

Karin tilted her head, her smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “This can’t keep happening,” she agreed, her voice quieter now, almost resigned. “We really should find a healthier hobby or something to distract us—”

“I know, there’s a way to fix this,” Naruto cut in, bolting upright in his chair with a sudden spark of determination lighting up his blue eyes. “I need to talk with Kakashi-sensei.”

Karin stared at him, her face scrunching up in utter confusion—she clearly couldn’t follow his train of thought on this. Her hand froze mid-air, still hovering from her last gesture. 

“… I’m sorry, what?”

…

Chapter Text

6, Escalating threats.

…

For the third time this week, Kakashi seriously considered early retirement.

And it was only Wednesday.

He didn’t hate being Hokage, per se. The powers and social status were nice perks, but unfortunately, they came with an ungodly amount of responsibilities. And really, who wouldn’t loathe that part?

Right now, however, the paperwork wasn’t the main source of his headache.

“Can you stop assigning Sasuke to long missions?”

Ah. There it is.

One of the primary reasons Kakashi wanted to call it quits was standing in front of his desk, arms crossed, his expression set in grim determination. It was peak Naruto’s contradiction—his uncanny ability to say the most nonsensical things with absolute sincerity.

“I mean, yeah, sure, he’s super strong and skilled and all that—but have you seen him? He’s basically a walking bundle of bad attitude and unresolved trauma! You really think it’s healthy for him to be off in the wilderness all the time? Alone? Brooding? That’s basically the exact thing that caused all our problems in the first place!”

Kakashi opened his mouth, but Naruto hadn’t finished. He continued by jabbing a finger at his former teacher accusingly. 

“And don’t even try to tell me ‘Oh, but Naruto, he’s an adult, he can take care of himself’—can he?! Because last time I checked, he doesn’t eat properly, doesn’t sleep properly, and I know for a fact he doesn’t even own a proper winter coat! You’re just sending him out there to suffer, you heartless old man!”

Kakashi blinked. Slowly. 

Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those times when Naruto had somehow proven that his beliefs weren’t as ridiculous as they sounded.

Right now, he was just spewing pure nonsense.

Kakashi leaned back in his chair, already exhausted. “Naruto,” he drawled. “Sasuke is one of Konoha’s best ninjas—scratch that, one of the best ninjas in the entire world—which means he’s an invaluable asset. And given his long list of crimes—”

“Which have already been forgiven!” Naruto cut in impatiently.

Kakashi sighed. “Yes, legally. But public trust doesn’t recover overnight, Naruto. The missions help solidify his role in—”

“Bullshit!” Naruto jabbed a finger at the desk. “This isn’t about public trust. You’re just throwing him at whatever high-level mission pops up because it’s convenient!”

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully. “That is what missions are, yes.”

Naruto’s eyebrow twitched. “You know what I mean! ”

Kakashi did. He just found it amusing to make Naruto say it outright.

Naruto bristled, but he was predictable. And, sure enough, after a beat of fuming silence, he burst out.

“It’s been more than a month, Kakashi-sensei! He just got back, and now you’re sending him off again?! The guy hasn’t even unpacked his damn bag yet!”

That was a bit of an exaggeration, but Kakashi got the point.

Naruto wasn’t just irritated. He was worried.

Interesting.

“You should at least give him some time to rest first,” Naruto pressed, hands still planted firmly on Kakashi’s desk. “What, are you trying to run him into the ground?”

Kakashi raised a lazy brow. “Sasuke has never once complained about it.”

“Because he’s a stubborn idiot!” Naruto shot back. “He’d rather drop dead than admit when he needs a break!”

Kakashi almost scoffed. Oh, the irony.

Naruto, the king of overexertion, lecturing someone else about taking a break? That’s rich.

But instead of pointing that out—because, well, he still had some mercy—Kakashi simply exhaled. 

“Naruto, Sasuke is capable of handling himself.”

“That’s not the point!” Naruto shook his head, frustration spilling into every movement. “You’re pushing him too much.”

Kakashi studied the blond, one eye narrowing slightly. After a beat, he shifted tactics.

“Did Sasuke tell you that?”

Naruto froze mid-step, shoulders stiffening. That was all the answer Kakashi needed.

He didn’t respond, but the brief flicker of hesitation betrayed him. Kakashi knew Sasuke too well to conclude that he hadn’t said a damn thing—he’d never voice a complaint, not even under torture. Which meant Naruto wasn’t reacting to words Sasuke had spoken, but to the silence he’d left behind.

Kakashi leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “So, what is this really about?”

Naruto’s scowl deepened. “I just told you.”

“No,” Kakashi said, voice mild but firm. “You’re upset about something else. What happened?”

Naruto’s jaw tightened, and for a second, Kakashi thought he wouldn’t answer.

Then, finally, in a quieter voice, the blond muttered, “He didn’t even say goodbye this time.”

Ah.

That explained a lot.

Kakashi sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He really wasn’t paid enough for this.

But before he could respond, Naruto’s voice hardened. 

“If you keep sending him out like this, I swear I’ll stop training to be Hokage. What’s the point if you’re just gonna burn him out?”

Kakashi blinked, noting the edge. Naruto’s eyes flared as he pressed on.

“Or maybe I’ll tag along next time—no matter what he says. See how he likes me breathing down his neck!” His fists clenched. “Or better yet, I’ll kidnap him, stash him where you can’t touch him. How’s that sound?”

Kakashi’s brow lifted slightly. The threats were leveling up and escalating—fast.

Naruto leaned closer, voice dropping to a dangerous edge. “Keep this up, and I’ll break his damn legs myself. Then he has to stay.”

Kakashi stayed impassive, but inwardly tracked the spiral—frustration twisting into obsession, possessive and unhinged. Naruto’s fixation blazed, yet Kakashi held his tongue.

Naruto was breathing hard now. “I’ll do it,” he swore, like he needed Kakashi to believe it. “I’ll—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Kakashi interrupted smoothly before the threat became even worse. “I’ll consider pulling him from the next one.”

Naruto’s head snapped up. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Consider.” Kakashi pointed a warning finger at him. “Now get out of my office before I change my mind.”

Naruto didn’t need to be told twice. He was out the door in seconds, not even bothering to hide his grin.

Kakashi exhaled slowly, shaking his head. 

Naruto’s threats had spiked from defiance to something darker, from simple insistence to outright possessiveness. From stubbornness to obsession.

And that was… concerning.

But Kakashi didn’t call him out.

Not yet.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.

Sasuke, you better appreciate how much effort he puts into this. Because I’m starting to think you’re the only thing keeping him sane.

.

.

Sasuke, predictably, did not appreciate the effort Naruto put into this.

“You did what to Kakashi, you bastard?”

Naruto, who was sprawling lazily on his couch, barely had time to register the storm of chakra and irritation before Sasuke was suddenly in front of his apartment, eyes sharp with accusation. His voice was low, sharp-edged, cutting through the air as he stormed into Naruto’s living room. The travel-worn cloak still hung over his shoulders, swaying with each furious step.

Naruto shouldn’t find this hot. He really shouldn’t. But, well. Hormones were a powerful thing, and Sasuke fresh off a mission, all brooding and intense, was unfairly attractive. 

He blamed his impulsive, hormone-addled brain entirely. 

(What? He was past the age of puberty so that wouldn’t be a logical explanation? Who cared. Some people might even have their puberty last till late 20s, anyway. Maybe Naruto was a late bloomer, who knew.)

“You’re back!” Naruto chirped, flashing a grin that faltered only slightly as Sasuke’s hand fisted the front of his shirt, yanking him upright. “And—hey!—you actually said hello first this time!”

Behind him, Suigetsu cackled. “Damn, Naruto, I gotta say, your priorities are incredible.”

Juugo sighed. “We shouldn’t be encouraging this.”

“Oh, I absolutely should be encouraging this,” Suigetsu countered, smirking. He clapped a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder in a move that was both overly familiar and deliberately irritating. “Look at him—storming in here all pissed off, like a jealous boyfriend. It’s hilarious.”

Sasuke violently shrugged him off. “I’m not jealous.” His glare turned back to Naruto—the intensity of it could’ve melted steel. “And you. Don’t play dumb. Why’d you go to Kakashi behind my back?”

Naruto’s grin wavered, but he rallied gamely. 

“Because you’re a stubborn idiot who doesn’t know when to take a break. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I don’t need you hovering over me like some overprotective mother hen,” Sasuke snapped, releasing Naruto’s shirt with a shove that sent him flopping back onto the couch. “I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, I know you can,” Naruto shot back, sitting up straighter, his own temper flaring. “Doesn’t mean you should have to all the damn time! You didn’t even tell me you were leaving—what was I supposed to do, just sit here and hope you didn’t come back in a body bag?”

Sasuke’s face darkened, but before he could retort, Suigetsu leaned in, grinning. 

“Wait—do you notice it, Juugo? He didn’t deny the boyfriend part.”

Sasuke’s head whipped around, Sharingan and Rinnegan flaring. 

“We’re not together. Shut up.”

“Sure, sure,” Suigetsu waved a hand dismissively. “But anyway, just look at that—Naruto’s all torn up over no love note from you. Isn’t that sweet, Juugo?”

Juugo, leaning silently against the wall, didn’t respond, though his eyes flicked between the two with faint exasperation. 

Sasuke shot Suigetsu A Look that promised violence, but the swordsman just cackled, undeterred.

“Shut up, Suigetsu,” Naruto growled, cheeks flushing despite himself. “This isn’t funny.”

“Isn’t it?” Suigetsu leaned forward, smirking. “So why we’d heard that you blackmailed the Hokage—”

“I didn’t blackmail him!” Naruto sputtered.

Sasuke shot him a glare. “What exactly did you do?”

Naruto hesitated, because technically, he hadn’t done anything. It wasn’t like he’d held Kakashi at kunai-point or anything, but, well…

“I might’ve... complained a little?”

Suigetsu snorted. “You whined.”

“I petitioned,” Naruto corrected, scowling. “Which, by the way, was completely justified! You’ve been running yourself into the ground, bastard.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“That’s because I haven’t slept in a week,” Sasuke said, as if that proved his point.

Naruto inhaled deeply, as if physically restraining himself from launching Sasuke through a wall. Then, turning to Juugo, he gestured wildly. 

“You see what I mean, right?”

Juugo, ever calm, gave Sasuke a brief once-over before nodding. “You do look exhausted, Sasuke.”

Sasuke’s betrayed glare could’ve curdled milk.

Suigetsu smirked. “Damn, even Juugo’s against you on this. That’s rough, buddy.”

Naruto grinned, crossing his arms smugly. “See? I was right.”

Sasuke exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was developing a migraine. 

“That still doesn’t explain why you went behind my back.”

“He has a point, though,” Suigetsu, ever the instigator, chirped gleefully. “Sasuke’s out there risking his neck, and you’re here whining to Kakashi like a kid who lost his favourite toy. Maybe if you’d just say what’s really eating you—”

“Enough.” Sasuke’s voice cut through the noise, cold and final. He turned back to Naruto, his gaze piercing. “You don’t get to decide what I can handle. Stop acting like I’m fragile.”

Naruto bristled, leaning forward until they were nearly nose-to-nose. 

“And you don’t get to act like I’m just supposed to sit back and not give a damn! You’re not invincible, Sasuke, no matter how much you pretend otherwise!”

The room went quiet, tension crackling between them. 

Suigetsu opened his mouth to add another barb, but a sharp glance from Juugo silenced him—finally. 

For a long moment, neither Sasuke nor Naruto moved, locked in a standoff of stubborn wills.

Then Sasuke exhaled harshly, stepping back. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered, turning toward the door.

Naruto’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he could leave. “Wait—damn it, just wait. I’m not trying to control you. I just…” He faltered, the words tangling in his throat. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”

Sasuke stilled, his back to Naruto, the silence stretching taut. 

Suigetsu raised an eyebrow, leaning toward Juugo. “Bet you fifty ryo he won’t say it back.”

Juugo didn’t take the bet.

Sasuke turned around at least, staring at the blond for a long, unreadable moment before biting his lower lip, shaking his head. His long bang fell over, hiding his eyes and most of his expression.

“You have one hell of a stupid way to show it.”

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and left.

Naruto’s grip tightened instinctively, his frustration rising. “That’s it? You’re just gonna walk away?”

Sasuke didn’t stop.

“Oh, for—” Naruto growled, yanking him back with more force than necessary. “You always do this! You shut down, you get all cryptic and broody, and then you leave before we can actually talk about anything! Newsflash, bastard, some of us care when you disappear without a word!”

Sasuke’s jaw clenched. “I don’t owe you an explanation every time I leave, Naruto.”

“No, but maybe a damn goodbye wouldn’t kill you!” Naruto shot back, eyes burning. “Or is that too much to ask?”

Sasuke exhaled sharply. His gaze flickered away as if it pained him to look at the blond right now. 

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

Naruto’s anger faltered for a split second. Then he scoffed, shaking his head. “Right. Because nothing ever matters to you, huh?” His voice was quieter now, tinged with something almost hurt. “It’s just me making a big deal out of nothing, right?”

Sasuke didn’t answer.

And somehow, that was worse.

Naruto’s hand dropped from his wrist, suddenly feeling stupid for grabbing it in the first place. He forced out a laugh, but it came out brittle and bitter. 

“You know what? Forget it. Go do your lone wolf thing. It’s what you’re best at, right?”

For the first time, Sasuke hesitated. But before he could say anything, Naruto turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“I don’t even know why I bother sometimes.”

The silence that followed was thick, stretching unbearably between them.

Suigetsu, naturally, ruined it.

“Damn, that was almost romantic.” He smirked. “Now’s the moment that you guys should just kiss and make up, then.”

Sasuke and Naruto snapped their heads toward him at the exact same time, synchronised in their I will end you glares.

Juugo sighed. “Suigetsu.”

“What?” Suigetsu grinned, entirely unrepentant. “It’s painfully obvious.”

Naruto groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Sasuke, wisely, said nothing. Instead, without another word, he turned and strode out the door, cloak swaying behind him.

Naruto didn’t stop him this time.

Suigetsu watched for a moment before letting out a low chuckle, softer than usual.

“Y’know what, Naruto? Just this once, I’ll pity you. You’re a mess—but Sasuke’s no better. For now, he’s all yours.”

Naruto blinked, startled, then glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suigetsu only shrugged, heading for the door. “Figure it out, lover boy.”

Juugo followed silently, leaving Naruto alone with his cheeks burning and arms crossed, muttering under his breath. 

“Jerks. All of ‘em.”

…

Chapter Text

7, A little heart-to-heart.

…

Sasuke didn’t actually recall how he got back to their house, but when he snapped out of his trance, he was already standing inside the bathroom, staring at the finger-shaped bruise blooming on his wrist, unmoving. 

The bathroom was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a flickering bulb above the mirror. Steam curled faintly in the air, the sink’s faucet gushing a steady stream that pooled dangerously close to the rim, but Sasuke didn’t seem to realise it.

A hesitant knock on the door interrupted his train of thoughts.

“Go away, Suigetsu.” 

Sasuke snapped, his voice rough, before a flicker of realisation hit him—Suigetsu usually didn’t bother to knock. 

“It’s me,” Juugo’s voice rang through the air. “May I come in, Sasuke?”

Truth be told, Sasuke wanted nothing more than to be left alone, to let the silence swallow him whole. But there’s something calm about Juugo’s presence that made him know the other wouldn’t irritate him further. Unlike Suigetsu’s needling or Karin’s sharp-edged concern, Juugo wouldn’t push, wouldn’t prod him in any way that made him uncomfortable. 

After a long, heavy beat of silence, Sasuke sighed, the sound weary.

“The door’s unlocked.”

The hinges creaked as Juugo stepped inside, his broad frame filling the small space. His eyes softened as they took in the way Sasuke slumped against the counter, damp hair clinging to his forehead, the faint tremble in his hands as he gripped the sink’s edge. 

Water sloshed faintly, already spilling over, and Juugo reached past him without a word, twisting the faucet shut. 

The sudden quiet was deafening, broken only by the drip of some lingering droplets.

“You’ve been standing here for a while.” 

Juugo said gently, his tone observational rather than accusing. He stayed a step back, giving Sasuke space, though his presence loomed like a steady oak in the cramped room.

Sasuke didn’t respond at first, his gaze dropping back to the bruise. The ache of it wasn’t just physical; it was Naruto’s voice, raw and pleading, echoing in his mind. 

I just don’t want to lose you again.  

He clenched his jaw, the words clawing at him. 

“How do I tell Naruto that deep down, I can’t stand the sight of this Konoha?” Sasuke’s whisper was barely audible, tinted with a deep melancholy. “This village and what it had done to my clan, my family, my brother—” he choked on the word a little, eyes shining with an achingly bone-deep sorrow. “—I haven’t forgiven any of that. I don’t think I ever will.”

“You don’t have to,” after a beat, Juugo replied softly, one hand hovering over Sasuke’s shoulder, silently asking for permission. When the other said nothing but leaning toward him a little, Juugo took it as a yes to place his hand down. “This place doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.”

Sasuke let out a bitter snicker, the tone shifting to something sharp and derisive. 

“And to think they suppose that I’m doing all those missions to atone for my sins,” his lip curled, disdain dripping from every word. “What about their sins? All the crimes they’ve committed against their own people under the delusion of peace?”

Juugo remained silent, his hand tracing small, soothing circles across Sasuke’s back. The touch was an anchor, tethering him as the weight of his words spilled out. Sasuke leaned forward, his forehead pressing against Juugo’s collarbone, the fabric of his shirt rough against his skin. He exhaled slowly, the breath shaky. 

“Konoha has done a lot of damage to Naruto, too, but somehow, he still learns how to love it with all his heart. He even wants to become the Hokage one day.” Sasuke’s voice grew wet, thick with emotion as he continued after a pause. “I support his dream, and I believe he’ll achieve it, but—” He chewed his bottom lip, struggling to shape the thought. “—I can’t be by his side all the time when that day comes. It’ll suffocate me.”

“I understand,” Juugo said, his tone soft yet unwavering, a quiet reassurance that didn’t demand anything of him. “Again, you don’t have to stay here if it kills you. You can go wherever you like, and we’ll follow you in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t think Suigetsu will,” Sasuke snorted, but only half-heartedly.

“He will,” Juugo replied calmly. “You know that Karin will, too. And I vow to be by your side till the end of my life, so I’ll not go against my own words.”

Sasuke lifted his head, a faint chuckle escaping his lips as he met Juugo’s steady gaze. The sound was brittle but genuine, a crack of light in the gloom.

“What have I done to deserve your unwavering loyalty?”

“A lot of things,” Juugo smiled easily. “Do you want a list?”

“Maybe later when I need an ego boost,” Sasuke murmured. He dropped his head back against Juugo’s chest, letting the warmth and solidity of his companion seep into him. “But thank you.”

“Anytime.” 

Juugo nodded, his arm wrapping tentatively around Sasuke’s lean frame, drawing him in just a little closer. A quiet smile curved his lips as Sasuke seemed to relax, the tension in his shoulders easing like a taut string finally loosening.

For a moment, they stayed like that, the bathroom’s stillness wrapping around them. The bruise on Sasuke’s wrist throbbed faintly, a reminder of the earlier clash, but here, with Juugo’s steady breathing against him, it felt less like a wound and more like a mark he could bear.

The sounds of Juugo’s heartbeat had a strangely calming effect on his restless mind, too. Sasuke tilted his head slightly, his left ear brushing closer to Juugo’s broad chest, drawn instinctively to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

The sound so soft yet profoundly grounding, like the gentle caress of waves lapping against a tranquil shore on a windless day, like the quiet rumbles of shifting earth underneath the ground; each pulse a reminder of life, of continuity, of something unshaken by the turmoil that had consumed him.

Sasuke’s tumultuous thoughts slowed to a quiet hum, silently counting each beat, letting the cadence lull him into a rare state of surrender. The exhaustion that had clung to him, both physically and mentally, pressed down like a heavy fog, and Sasuke felt his eyelids grow heavy, the weight of his own fragility at this moment was too much to resist.

Juugo’s arm tightened ever so slightly, a protective gesture that held no demand, his large hand resting lightly against Sasuke’s back, fingers tracing the faintest outline of his spine through the fabric of his shirt, as if to remind him that he was not alone. 

Sasuke leaned into Juugo’s warmth, his cheek pressing closer to the source of those steady beats, now a lullaby that drowned out the cacophonous echoes in his restless mind.

The world narrowed to this moment—the cool tiles beneath them, the soft drip of water from a forgotten faucet, the rhythmic thump of Juugo’s heart—and Sasuke’s defenses crumbled entirely, his body surrendering to the exhaustion that had been clawing at him for weeks. His breaths slowed, shallow at first, then deeper, syncing unconsciously with Juugo’s, and his dark eyes fluttered shut, lashes brushing against his pale cheeks like delicate shadows. The bruise on his wrist, the ache in his heart all faded into the background, dulled by the overwhelming pull of drowsiness.

“Sasuke…?”

Juugo questioned softly when Sasuke didn’t move after a long time. The raven-haired didn’t reply, and when Juugo looked down, he found out that his eyelids were already closed. He could feel the rhythm of Sasuke’s shallow but steady breaths, another indication that the other had likely fallen asleep.

The orange-haired man remained still, his gaze softening as he watched Sasuke’s features relax, the sharp lines of his face softening into something almost childlike, vulnerable in a way that stirred a fierce protectiveness in him. He didn’t move, didn’t dare disrupt the fragile peace that had settled over Sasuke, whose body now rested fully against him, limp and heavy with the weight of slumber. 

After a moment of contemplation, Juugo smiled softly as he carefully maneuvered to change their position without waking Sasuke, before scooping the other onto his arms and gently lifting him up.

.

Outside the bathroom door, Suigetsu and Karin jumped on each side when it creaked open, both looking like a protest or an excuse for their suspicious behaviour was ready on their lips. But the words died unspoken as their eyes fell upon the scene within: Sasuke, sound asleep, nestled securely in Juugo’s arms, his dark hair spilling across his forehead in a tousled cascade, his pale cheeks faintly flushed from the warmth of the embrace. 

Karin’s sharp intake of breath broke the silence, her red eyes widening behind her glasses, while Suigetsu let out a quiet exhale, his usual smirk softening into something gentler as they both stood silent at the sight of their leader in such an unguarded state.

Suigetsu tilted his head, his violet eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Sasuke, noting the way his lean, well-built frame—honed by years of battle and discipline, strong enough to command respect and fend off any who dared call him small—seemed to shrink in Juugo’s towering embrace, his body curled inward like a child seeking refuge from a storm. 

“He doesn’t look like the boss right now,” Suigetsu murmured, his voice low and uncharacteristically subdued, the teasing edge absent as he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze lingering on Sasuke’s relaxed features. “More like a lost kid, tired and beat. Normally, he’d never let anyone see him like this.” 

His words hung in the air, not quite a question but a quiet observation, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate stillness that enveloped the hall.

Karin nodded slowly, her arms crossing tightly over her chest, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks as she watched Sasuke’s chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, his long lashes casting delicate shadows across his face, lending him an almost ethereal quality that made her heart ache. 

“Never,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper, her usual brashness softened by the weight of the moment. “Sasuke’s always so… guarded, you know? All sharp edges and cold stares, like he’s gotta prove he’s untouchable every second. But like this—gods, he looks so young, so… vulnerable.” 

It was like seeing someone else entirely, someone Sasuke usually didn’t let out. Karin bit her lip, her fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to reach out, to brush a stray lock of hair from his face, but she held back, respecting the sanctity of his rest.

Juugo glanced up, his amber eyes meeting theirs, a silent understanding passing between the three as he adjusted his hold on Sasuke, his large hand resting protectively against the small of his back, fingers splayed with a gentleness that belied his immense strength. 

“He’s exhausted,” Juugo said simply, his deep voice resonating with a quiet conviction, his gaze returning to Sasuke’s sleeping form, noting the faint bruise on his wrist—a stark reminder of the earlier clash with Naruto, a mark that seemed out of place on the serene figure before them. “Physically, mentally… he’s been carrying too much for too long. This is the first time I’ve seen him let go, even a little.” 

His words were measured, each syllable heavy with concern, and Karin and Suigetsu exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring the same unspoken resolve.

“He shouldn’t have to look like this,” Suigetsu said after a pause, his tone hardening slightly, though his eyes remained soft, fixed on Sasuke’s peaceful face, the youthful vulnerability that temporarily stripped away the mask formed from years of hardness. “I mean, he’s our leader—tough as hell, always has a plan, always pushing forward. But damn, seeing him like this… makes you realise he’s not invincible.” 

He scratched the back of his neck, his usual bravado replaced by a rare sincerity that caught even Karin off guard. 

Meanwhile, the redhead’s eyes flickered with a fierce protectiveness, her voice gaining strength as she leaned forward, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. 

“You’re right—he’s not invincible,” she said, her words sharp but laced with a tenderness that spoke of her loyalty. “Sasuke doesn’t let people see him like this because he can’t afford to show weaknesses, but with us… he trusts us, even if he’d never say it.” 

Her voice wavered slightly, betraying the depth of her emotion, and she looked away, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear to hide the sheen in her eyes. As her gaze swept around, meeting the violet hues of Suigetsu’s eyes and the gentle orange orbs of Juugo’s, it seemed like an unspoken pact just formed and passed among them—the silent agreement that no matter at what cost, they had to protect their leader with all they’ve got.

“Let’s bring Sasuke to his room, shall we?”

Karin spoke after a long moment, and Juugo nodded along. Suigetsu walked off first, declaring that he would prepare the bed, while Juugo took some steady, slow steps behind, careful to not jolt Sasuke awake.

.

“Blondie would kill for a sight like this.” 

Suigetsu commented after Juugo placed the raven-haired young man down onto his bed. Sasuke’s body sank into the sheets, his dark hair spilling across the pillow in a silken cascade, framing his pale face like a halo of midnight. In sleep, he looked impossibly young, the sharp edges of his usual defiance softened into a boyish fragility, his lips slightly parted, his breath a soft sigh that spoke of a vulnerability so rare it seemed almost sacred. 

“Shh, don’t speak too loud, you’ll wake him up.”

Karin chided in hushed whispers while tucking the blanket around Sasuke with the gentleness that almost resembled a mother’s to her kid. She then gingerly swept some stray hair out of his face, red eyes lingering on how that smooth, unblemished skin seemed to glow faintly in the moonlight that filtered through the window. A soft smile tugged at her lips as the sight reminded her of one of the reasons why she liked this boy—beneath that youthful softness lay a breathtaking beauty, his features refined and ethereal, like a statue crafted by the most talented sculptor, marvelous in their unguarded repose.

The three of them stood in silence, each contemplating their own train of thoughts. 

“Let’s get to sleep,” Suigetsu said at last, his voice breaking the stillness, a yawn escaping as he glanced out the window, where the night had deepened into a velvet darkness, the stars obscured by a veil of clouds. “I’m beat for today.”

Juugo’s eyes lingered on the bruise on Sasuke’s wrist for another second before sighing softly, “Guess I’ll call it a day, too. Good night.”

…

Chapter Text

8, Cacoethes.

Cacoethes (n.) an irresistible urge to do something inadvisable.

…

There was no new mission from Kakashi for the next two weeks, and Sasuke started to grow restless. He stayed in the house most of the time, picking up any kind of household chores that could distract his mind even for a moment—scrubbing dishes, sweeping the porch, even mending a frayed curtain. But those mundane tasks were never enough for a shinobi’s brain to calm down, especially one with as much unresolved trauma as him. Sasuke was itching to hold his sword and fight someone, anyone, to the point that he even accepted Suigetsu’s half-joking challenge for a duel.

They nearly destroyed their garden and the adjacent areas before Karin put a stop to it.

“You fought like you wanted to kill me, man,” Suigetsu complained as he sprawled on the torn-up ground like an overstretched cat. His chest heaved, sweat plastering his white hair to his forehead, his violet eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. “Good grief, next time tone down the murderous intent a little, will ya?”

“You won’t die that easily.” 

Sasuke snorted, his voice as dry as the cracked soil beneath him. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, its blade buried deep in the ground, acting like an anchor to keep him upright as his legs trembled from exertion. Every muscle screamed with a dull, aching soreness, but he refused to collapse with Suigetsu’s graceless abandon.

“Just lay down, it’s much better that way,” the white-haired man snorted, noticing the faint tremble in Sasuke’s stance. “Nobody’s gonna judge you, anyway.”

Sasuke’s dark eyes narrowed, debating silently for a few tense seconds. With a reluctant huff, he released the sword, letting it stand like a sentinel in the dirt. 

“I need a bath,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders. “But if I lie down now, I won’t get up for the next hour.”

“Same here,” Suigetsu snickered, stretching his arms above his head. “Juugo can carry you to the bathroom, though. Hell, he could carry both of us, then we could take a bath together.”

“I’m not carrying you.” 

Juugo interjected, his deep voice calm but laced with a flicker of amusement. He stepped out from the porch, his broad frame casting a shadow over the wreckage of their duel.

“Don’t give only Sasuke preferential treatment like that,” the white-haired man grumbled, propping himself up on his elbows with a mock pout. “I thought you were better than Karin!”

“That’s exactly what preferential treatments mean,” Karin shot back, her smirk sharp as she adjusted her glasses. Her red hair caught the sunlight, a fiery halo around her smug expression.

“Told you not to use big words that you don’t understand,” Sasuke added, his tone casual but edged with a rare tease.

Suigetsu gasped indignantly, his mouth flapping like a fish out of water while his facial muscles twisted into an expression of utter betrayal. 

“Don’t you dare gang up on me!”

“That’s what teammates do, though,” Karin said, tilting her head with a blink that feigned innocence. The satisfied curve of her lips clashed glaringly with the act. “We team up to support the common goal.”

“Against enemies, not your own teammate!” The white-haired swordsman protested, jabbing a finger at her.

“You’re easily counted as an enemy,” she retorted, unfazed.

“Rude.”

Suigetsu huffed, flicking a clod of dirt at her. It missed by a mile, crumbling harmlessly against the porch steps.

Karin opened her mouth to fire back, but a faint creak from the house cut her off. Juugo stepped out, wiping his hands on a rag, his calm gaze sweeping over the wreckage. 

“Enough,” he said, his deep voice carrying a gentle finality. “Sasuke’s heading inside. Let’s clean this up before it gets dark.”

Suigetsu groaned dramatically, rolling onto his side. 

“Fine, but I’m not touching that burnt tree. That’s on Sasuke.”

Sasuke, already halfway to the door, shot him a flat look over his shoulder. “Whatever,” he muttered, sheathing his sword with a soft click before disappearing into the house, his silhouette swallowed by the dim interior.

Karin kicked at a stray clump of dirt, muttering under her breath, while Juugo began gathering the scattered debris with methodical care. Suigetsu stayed sprawled a moment longer, staring at the deepening sky, before hauling himself up with a sigh. 

.

The sun had dipped fully below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of deep indigo, when a sharp rap echoed through their house. 

Sasuke, still aching from the duel, had just emerged from a quick bath, his damp hair clinging to his neck, a fresh shirt hanging loose on his frame. The steamy warmth of the bath hadn’t done much to ease the soreness in his muscles, but it had sharpened his senses. He turned toward the entrance, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes, as Juugo opened the door.

The warm glow of the living room’s lamp spilled out onto the porch, illuminating Sai’s pale figure standing on the threshold. His blank smile was as unreadable as ever, but a faint urgency was evident in his dark eyes, cutting through the evening’s calm.

“Mission from Kakashi,” Sai said without preamble, stepping inside as Juugo waved him in. “Urgent. Something about a rift opening near the border that requires the Rinnegan’s ability to examine it. He needs you now, Sasuke.”

Sasuke’s recent restlessness vanished in an instant, replaced by a flicker of eagerness that lit his gaze. 

“Finally,” he muttered, already moving toward his room. His sword rested against the wall, and he grabbed it with a fluid motion, the familiar weight a comfort as he began packing a small satchel with kunai, scrolls, and a spare cloak. The prospect of actions, of doing something with a clear purpose, surged through him like a shot of adrenaline, drowning out the soreness in his limbs.

Karin poked her head out from the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea in hand, her eyebrows furrowing. 

“You’re leaving now?” She asked, her voice tinged with concern as she eyed his damp hair. “You just got clean.”

“It’s urgent,” Sasuke replied, not pausing as he slung the satchel over his shoulder.

Suigetsu, after taking the same bath with Sasuke and now was lounging under the kotatsu, smirked insouciantly. 

“Guess the brooding paid off. Don’t die out there, yeah?”

Sasuke shot him a flat look but said nothing, already heading for the door, but stopped midway as it slammed open with a force that rattled the hinges.

Naruto stormed in, his orange jacket dirt-streaked, his blue eyes blazing with fury. His fists clenched at his sides, and his whiskered cheeks were flushed from what looked like a sprint across the village mixed with intense emotions. 

“You’re not going without me, bastard!” He barked, planting himself squarely in Sasuke’s path.

Sasuke froze, his hand tightening on the satchel strap. He hadn’t seen Naruto again after that conversation at his house—somehow the idiot managed to not track him down for a second discourse, which was a blessing—and certainly wasn’t prepared to face him now.

“Naruto,” he said, his voice low and edged with warning. “Move.”

“No way!” Naruto snapped, stepping closer until they were nearly chest-to-chest. “Kakashi told me about the mission, and you’re not pulling your lone wolf crap again! I’m coming with you!”

“It’s not your fight,” Sasuke said, his tone cold, though a flicker of frustration betrayed him. “I can handle it.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Naruto’s voice rose, his finger jabbing at Sasuke’s chest. “You don’t get to decide that anymore, at least not on my watch! Last time you ran off, you came back looking like death warmed over, and I’m not sitting here worrying if you’ll even make it back this time!”

That was half a lie, actually. Last time Sasuke had a mission, he came back storming into Naruto’s house looking furiously attractive, and the image was seared into the blond’s mind. Not that he’d ever admit it aloud, like, ever.

Sai tilted his head, watching the standoff with his usual detached curiosity. “He’s loud,” he noted to Juugo, who stood by the table, arms crossed.

“Always,” Juugo replied, his tone dry but his eyes fixed on the brewing clash.

Karin groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Great, now they’re gonna wreck the house again.”

“One hundred ryo says Naruto tackles him before he gets out the door,” Suigetsu snickered, propping his chin on his hand.

Sasuke ignored them, his gaze locked on Naruto’s. 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he said, stepping forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous stillness. “Stay here.”

Naruto’s jaw clenched, his anger faltering into something rawer—fear, maybe, or hurt. 

“And I don’t need you disappearing on me again,” he shot back, his voice cracking slightly. “You’re not doing this alone, Sasuke. Deal with it.”

For a moment, neither moved, the air thick with unspoken history, their last fight still a fresh wound between them. Sasuke’s hand twitched toward his sword, but he exhaled sharply instead, his shoulders tensing. 

“Fine,” he bit out, turning toward the door. “But keep up, or I’m leaving you behind.”

Naruto grinned, fierce and triumphant, falling into step beside him. “Like you could lose me, teme.”

Sai followed silently, his sketchbook tucked under his arm, while the others watched them go. 

Suigetsu chuckled, shaking his head. “Those two are hopeless.”

“Tell me about it,” Karin muttered, sipping her tea as the door swung shut behind them.

“On second thought,” Suigetsu declared abruptly, slipping out from under the kotatsu with a stretch of his lanky limbs. “I think I’ll tag along. Mission or not, I can’t miss out on the fun.”

With that he grinned, snatching his massive sword from its perch against the wall and strapping it to his back with a practiced swing. He bolted out the door before anyone could protest.

Neither Juugo nor Karin moved to stop him. Juugo’s lips twitched faintly, a ghost of amusement, while Karin just sighed into her tea. 

“Idiot,” she mumbled, though the corner of her mouth quirked upward.

.

.

.

“Getting deserted in the middle of nowhere with you, out of all people, certainly would top the list of weirdest things I don’t want a repetition in my life.”

Suigetsu broke the tense silence between him and Naruto after a while, gaze darting toward the blond with apparent disdain. 

They were, in fact, deserted in the middle of—oh, look at the irony—a desert. Suigetsu tried to strain his eyes, but besides boundless dunes and countless waves of sand, he couldn’t see anything else as the sandy vastness expanded to the horizon, blurring at the edges with its eye-itching reddish brown tone.

Naruto snorted at that, eyes blazing with similar disgust. “Right back at you.”

He wasn’t in the mood for an argument, though, so he didn’t say anything else. But apparently, Suigetsu hadn’t finished.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t act like a total dumbass,” the white-haired swordsman lamented, kicking at a small stone with a lazy swipe of his foot. “You really thought breathing down Sasuke’s neck while he was focusing on using his Rinnegan was a good idea? I couldn’t care less if you got your karma for being an idiot, but dragging me into the messy result of your thoughtless action as collateral damage? Unforgivable.”

“Would it kill you to shut your mouth and stop complaining for a goddamn minute?” Naruto groaned, dragging a hand across his face. “Sasuke must have the patience of a saint to tolerate such an irritating nuisance as you for that long.”

“It’s the other way around, actually. We’re all saints for putting up with his fickle personality and temperament,” Suigetsu quipped, voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “He’s beyond the definition of high-maintenance, blondie. Anyone who’s willing to deal with Sasuke is either having some screws loose in their head, like Juugo, or a total masochist, like Karin—”

“Wow, you guys are merely apart for like, three hours, and you’re already bad-mouthing your teammates this fervently?” Naruto rolled his eyes. “What a nice personality you’ve got there, fish face.”

“I’m just telling the truth, can’t help it if the truth’s ugly. Also, I haven’t finished,” Suigetsu clicked his tongue, didn’t seem bothered by the accusation. “Some cases are both, just like you.”

The blond bristled immediately, “I’m neither!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” the white-haired man snickered. “From what I’ve gathered, you’ve been chasing after Sasuke since you guys were twelve and haven’t stopped, not even now. Add in a few more years and it’d easily be half your life or more, blondie. What do you call it, if not obsession?”

“It’s dedication!” Naruto snapped back, but deep down, he knew that Suigetsu had a point. And no, he wasn’t about to correct the other that he’d had his eyes on Sasuke for even longer than that since that bit of information wasn’t helping his case here. “He’s my first and closest friend, my brother!”

Suigetsu turned his head toward Naruto, violet eyes scrutinising him with a piercing intensity.

“Sasuke had Itachi,” after about a minute, he mused. “Between you two, I’d bet that he knows more about what having a brother actually feels like. So let me ask you this, does he think of you as a brother also, Naruto?”

“Of course he does!” The blond said defensively.

Suigetsu rolled his eyes, “I suggest that you should ask him about it. You don’t seem to understand Sasuke that deeply, blondie. And besides—” he drawled, eyes glinting with a look that screamed trouble. “—think about this carefully for the sake of yourself: Do you really only want him to be your friend and brother, nothing else?”

Naruto stopped mid-action, eyes narrowing at the swordsman. “What does that even mean?”

“C’mon, I won’t spell it out for you. Make that tiny little thing that inhabits your thick skull work for once and have an answer by yourself, I’ve already helped too much.”

Naruto’s fingers were itching to grab something and snap. Preferably that infuriating neck of one white-haired menace.

“You haven’t done shit!”

“Not my problem when that thick, obstinate head of yours can’t appreciate the effort I’ve put into this mess.”

On second thought, nobody was here to stop him from killing Suigetsu. Sasuke probably wouldn’t mourn him that much, Karin would be elated, and Juugo… Naruto couldn’t predict how Juugo would act at the news of Suigetsu’s death, but well, it wasn’t like his loyalty to team Taka lay in the white-haired teammate since he’s devoted to Sasuke instead. So, Naruto was actually doing a service to society, and this should be counted as a justified murder, right?

Suigetsu, as if sensing the change in Naruto’s flow of thoughts, flashed him a feral grin. 

“That killing intent just now is delis, blondie. Bring it on, if you dare.”

.

Suigetsu was a slippery eel. One second before, Naruto thought that he had locked the other into a firm position to receive a blow, only to see him melt right into a puddle and re-materialise a few meters away, that infuriating grin never left his mouth. He fought like how he talked: messy, unpredictable, and annoying, but with a certain deadly quality that hid underneath all the flippant actions. Suigetsu utilised his sword just as well as how he weaponised his words, always aiming for where it could hurt the most, with the intention to torment more than to actually kill.

It was frustrating, but also liberating and exhilarating in a way that Naruto hadn’t expected. It has been quite a long time since the last time he fought someone this hard, and while he didn’t fully intend to end Suigetsu, he had no qualms about inflicting as many injuries as possible. It was such a misfortune that physical blows did next to nothing to the swordsman.

“How about we call it even?” Suigetsu deflected one of Naruto’s small Rasengan, the smile slightly faltering from his lips as he wiped away some sweat. “I just had a fight with Sasuke this morning, I’m not at the top of my game right now.”

For one second, Naruto wanted to shout, “Like hell I care!” and continued exchanging blows; but on the other hand, he had noticed how fast Suigetsu’s stamina depleted, and it wasn’t really fair to fight with someone who wasn’t in their peak condition, even if a part of him wanted to pummel that smug face. 

In the end, the righteous side in him won, so Naruto begrudgingly halted his next move, the Rasengan slowly fizzled out in his palm as he huffed, “You lost.”

“Whatever,” Suigetsu tossed at him a half-hearted reply as he unceremoniously fell down face-first, his sword hitting the hard ground with some clattering noises. He rolled over, chest heaving with laboured breaths as he lamented, “Both you and Sasuke fought like you guys actually wanted to kill me. Impressive, but too taxxing.”

Naruto didn’t comment on that, too busy catching his breaths instead. It wasn’t like the fight was a breeze to him, either. Though Suigetsu wasn’t one of the most powerful opponents he has ever faced when it came to raw strength, his unique ability to turn into water and his adept swordsmanship still made him a force to be reckoned with. Besides, the fact that Suigetsu used the Executioner’s Blade that he took from Zabura’s grave kept distantly reminded Naruto of the time when they were still genin, team 7 had accepted an escort mission and faced Zabuza and Haku along the way—that time, Sasuke had nearly died protecting him, and the image of his pale ashen face and the scent of his blood had triggered the temporary release of the Kyuubi’s seal.

It had been a very long time, but the memories still stung in Naruto’s chest uncomfortably whenever he thought of it. The feelings of holding Sasuke’s lifeless body, cradling his face close to his chest and still couldn’t feel a pulse… Naruto hated every second of it, hated how weak and helpless and angry he had felt at that moment. It had become one of the core experiences that shaped him into the man he was today, never giving up on a friend, never leaving a comrade behind.

“You’re having that look on your face again,” Suigetsu’s amused voice jerked Naruto out of his train of thought. Naruto blinked, turning to see the swordsman propped up on his elbows, violet eyes gleaming with curiosity. “The constipated expression whenever you think about Sasuke.”

“It’s not constipated!” 

Naruto snapped at him, his cheeks flushing. The idea that Suigetsu had observed him enough to notice such a peculiar expression of his was unsettling and weird, no matter how you looked at it.

“So you’re indeed thinking about Sasuke,” Suigetsu lazily replied. “Well, any better man would say that kind of look is deeply smitten or thoughtfully longing or achingly pining or whatever, but all those kinds of feelings sound like emotional constipation to me, so I say what I think.”

Reasoning with Suigetsu was a waste of time and effort, especially on such a trivial matter like this. Well, that didn’t mean what Naruto felt about Sasuke was insignificant, but the way Suigetsu thought about emotions and feelings wasn’t the blond’s concern, after all.

“Your logic is shit, but you do you.”

“My logic is impeccable, but I don’t expect a measly peasant like you to get it,” Suigetsu snorted, though his voice lacked the usual bite this time. “And you also look like you could use a good conversation to unknot whatever’s tangling inside your chest—or a good drunk, but sadly we don’t have any alcohol here, so let me be generous and offer you the next best thing instead.”

Naruto blinked owlishly. “… What?”

Suigetsu, out of the kindness of his heart, was offering to help him with his complicated feelings? What an absurdly laughable idea.

“Let’s face it, if we’re about to talk, we can either talk about Sasuke or Karin since those two are the only common topics between us,” the white-haired swordsman continued, voice flat and devoid of any teasing as if he was just stating some plain, hard-to-swallow truth. “And I doubt that you want to talk about Karin since it isn’t like you and her are super close or anything, despite sharing the same last name and the same unhealthy obsession with the other topic.”

Naruto wanted to bristle at that. Suigetsu had an uncanny ability to say facts with wordings that made them sound like insults, but it didn’t lessen how truthful they were.

“How about neither?” He snorted instead. “I don’t want to converse with you, just in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I choose not to care about your discomfort or your unwillingness,” Suigetsu replied, infuriatingly nonchalant. “Like it or not, you’re participating in this conversation. How long have you been lusting after our leader like that?”

“What the fu—?!” Who the hell started a discussion with that? Naruto sputtered indignantly as he felt the heat rush to his face. “I’m certainly not, you animal!”

“Still in denial, I see,” Suigetsu replied, clearly dismissing the blond’s protest. “Well, that doesn’t affect me in any way, so I’ll let it slide this time. What you’re gonna do about it, though? Just for your information, Sasuke hides it well, but he has quite an aversion to physical touches, especially sudden ones that aren’t initiated by him. Be careful with that, unless you have a death wish.” 

Naruto wasn’t going to do anything about the lust that he certainly wasn’t harbouring toward a certain raven-haired individual, but something in Suigetsu’s words caught his interest. He narrowed his eyes at the white-haired man, protests momentarily forgotten. 

“Wait, what? How do you know?”

“You haven’t noticed that most of his jutsus and moves are long-ranged ones?” Suigetsu blinked as he pushed his upper body up on his elbows to turn toward Naruto, looking slightly taken aback as if he didn’t expect the blond to focus on that bit of information. “How he prefers swords and throwing kunai over daggers and short weapons? Or how he’s always on alert to make sure nobody invades his personal space unless he’s comfortable with it?”

Naruto blinked as some memories surged in his head. Sasuke has always been a distant figure, not to him but to anyone since he was just a child, but Naruto’s always chatted it up to be a part of his personality. He’d heard Sakura talk about something like avoidant attachment style and unhealthy coping mechanisms as trauma responses when she tried to analyse Sasuke’s odd behaviours, but he got lost in those fancy medical and psychological terms after a while, so he never truly tried to understand it. 

Besides, Naruto’s always been quite an exception to that keeping-everyone-at-an-arm-length rule, or at least he hoped so, based on Sasuke’s casual reactions whenever he got near. They’d had quite a lot of fist fights before, too, in which Sasuke seemed to have no qualms about sitting on Naruto and beating him senseless with only his bare hands. Or like in some more peaceful moments, such as during the house-warming party, he only got angry when Naruto kept eating the okonomiyaki, but he didn’t say a thing about the blond getting too close for his comfort.

“You’ve never noticed, have you?” Suigetsu snickered after a while when Naruto got lost in thoughts, reminiscing about moments he shared with the raven-haired man. “That’s because he doesn’t consider you as a threat to his well-being, just like how he’d got used to us after travelling together for a while. The point is, it takes Sasuke a lot of time to do that—to consider someone safe enough so he doesn’t have to continuously stay on edges around them, but old habits die hard.” 

Now when Suigetsu mentioned it, Naruto started to see something that he’d not paid attention to before. Sometimes during training when they were still genin, Sasuke got really uncomfortable sparring with strangers compared to the familiarity of their team. Though such moments usually went away in a heartbeat after he steeled himself and that stoic mask slipped back on, they were definitely there, fleeting and went unnoticed. 

Naruto didn’t know what Sasuke had gone through during the years under Orochimaru’s tutelage, but judging by the snake man’s notorious list of crimes involving inhuman experiments on people, it wouldn’t be a stretch to suspect that Sasuke had endured at least some of those, being the favourite of Orochimaru as his preferred vessel and all. While Naruto doubted that the snake would do anything that left long-lasting damage on Sasuke’s body, the psychological damage would usually be hidden deeper…

“Oh gosh—” Naruto gasped, a hand flying up to cover his mouth as his eyes went wide as two saucers. “—Orochimaru didn’t… touch him in any disgusting way, right?”

“Define ‘touching’ and ‘disgusting’,” Suigetsu snorted, though judging by his calm demeanour, Naruto suspected that things weren’t as insidious as the worst thing he feared for. “The old snake’s obsessed with powers and eternal youth, other matters are inferior to him unless it’s directly tied to his interests.”

That wasn’t actually helpful, though. The blond pressed on, eyes not leaving the swordsman. “Which means?”

Suigetsu sat up this time to stare at him, long and hard. When he started talking again, his voice was unexpectedly serious, devoid of any teasing it usually carried.

“Just so you know, I don’t know that much about what actually happened to Sasuke—I wasn’t even around him most of the time. For any specific details, you’ll have to wrench that out of his clam of a mouth; but to answer your question, yes, Orochimaru did touch him in various ways, but I believe most of those were just purely for scientific experiments—to increase his pain threshold, his toxin endurance, something like that. Those things still left scars on him though, probably not physical, but surely mental.”

Naruto hadn’t truly noticed the scars on Sasuke before. Now when he tried to recall any moment he had seen the other with any kind of revealing outfits—and let’s be honest, Sasuke’s style during the time with Orochimaru was kind of distracting, now when the blond actually sat down and thought of those chest-exposing shirts—he couldn’t remember seeing any blemishes on his pale, creamy skin. For a shinobi who had fought a lot of battles and trained real hard to hone his deadly skills, somehow the raven-haired man still managed to maintain a youthful and… delicate appearance, for the lack of better words. 

Sasuke wasn’t fragile, not by any meanings of that word, but the slenderness of his figure begged otherwise. Naruto still remembered how it felt grabbing Sasuke’s wrist in his hand before—it was dainty, smaller than his own, and bruised so easily underneath his fingers that it gave off a deceptively breakable illusion. The blond knew that if he had tried to do that or even voiced that opinion out loud, the thing that would’ve broken would be either his arm or his neck instead; but now when thinking about it, it was impossible to shake off those thoughts.

“Even if what you’re saying is true,” Naruto stated, picking his words carefully. “It’d still be hard to confirm without asking Sasuke. And knowing how secretive he is, I doubt that he’ll give us a real, honest answer.”

“Eh, won’t be my problem,” Suigetsu shrugged insouciantly. “I’m fine with Sasuke being as he is right now. Don’t poke a sleeping bear, or let sleeping dogs lie, whatsoever.”

Naruto narrowed his eyes, staring at the white-haired man with suspicion in his eyes. “… So why are you telling me this?”

“You don’t remember? The last time we met, I said ‘For now, Sasuke’s all yours’—which means that all of his unresolved trauma is also included in the package, blondie.” Suigetsu stared back at him, unflinching. “What, scared that you’re not properly prepared to deal with that?”

“I’m not—”

Naruto took two seconds too late before sputtering out a protest, and Suigetsu cut him off with a scoff. When he continued, his voice was uncharacteristically serious.

“If so, then back off, Naruto. Sasuke has had enough on his plate, he doesn’t need you adding more burdens on him, regardless of your intentions.”

Suigetsu rarely called Naruto by his name, so the blond knew that the other wasn’t kidding—that was both a challenge and a threat woven into one. Underneath that carefree, unbothered attitude, Suigetsu still harboured a deeply hidden caring side in him, though Naruto doubted that he would ever admit it, even with his dying breath.

“I will never give up on him.”

This time, Naruto’s answer came quicker and firmer, each word a slab of stone placed around the hypothetical shrine dedicated to Sasuke inside his heart. A part of him appreciated how fiercely protective Sasuke’s teammates were toward him—he already knew that much about Juugo and Karin, but now seeing and hearing Suigetsu’s unexpected declaration, he was even more sure about their loyalty as a team together—but he wouldn’t let that stop him from reaching out for the raven-haired man. After all, Naruto had known Sasuke first, had approached him first, had befriended him first… so many first things had happened between them that no amount of outsiders’ protectiveness could pry that away from his cold, vice grip.

Suigetsu didn’t look taken aback at that. He just gave the blond another thousand-yard stare with those dead, unblinking fish eyes of his. Naruto held his gaze and refused to look away first, and after nearly a minute of an impromptu staring contest, the white-haired swordsman finally seemed to be satisfied.

“Good. I’ll save my breath on threats, but you’d better keep your word, blondie.”

…

Chapter Text

9, Taking care.

…

Suigetsu, for some curious reason, didn’t mention Sasuke’s name once after that conversation with Naruto. He still talked a lot, though, but only about frivolous, unimportant stuff that the blond couldn’t care less about. He just tossed out a reply here and there to show that he somewhat listened, but it didn’t seem like Suigetsu actually cared about having a responsive audience.

The rest of the day passed without a hitch. They managed to find some small animals for food, at which Naruto and Suigetsu had a brief argument about whether one of them was a rodent or not; a wadi so Suigetsu can get his precious refill of water; and even a cave so that they could stay for the night when the temperature drastically dropped outside. 

The desert’s night was chilling, but it wasn’t the worst thing Naruto had ever experienced. He’d spent nights trudging through snowfields in the Land of Iron, his breath freezing midair and his fingers going numb despite layers of gear. He’d once taken shelter in a swamp during a downpour that lasted three days straight, where the humidity clung to his skin like a second layer and leeches had become an unpleasant, recurring companion. Compared to that, this dry, biting coldness was manageable, though still far from comforting.

Their dinner had been laughable: a couple of half-charred desert fauna that Suigetsu had skewered with a sharpened stick while jokingly called them local delicacy, and Naruto had cooked over a sputtering flame, paired with a mushy, bitter pulp carved from the insides of a cactus. It was neither nutritionally sufficient nor fulfilling, but beggars can’t be choosers anyway. The measly meal barely took the edge off Naruto’s hunger, his stomach still twisted with faint, dull emptiness, but it was bearable. For tonight, at least. If this kept up for a few more days though, he wasn’t sure even his shinobi constitution would be enough to keep the growling at bay.

The cave they found was a stroke of luck, if you could call a shallow, cracked stone alcove luck. But still, it was better than nothing, even when it was just a hollowed cradle of stone tucked beneath a jagged outcrop. The entrance was narrow, just wide enough for a crouched adult to slip through, and inside, the silence felt thick and oppressive, like the world was holding its breath and waiting. The floor was coarse sand interspersed with stone, and the walls bore scratches from some creature long gone.

“If it rains, this will get flooded in no time,” Suigetsu snickered when they settled in. “I might thrive in it, though, but you’d drown before you make it to the entrance.”

Naruto only replied to him with a snort, not caring enough to start a meaningless argument.

They’d managed to build a small fire the traditional way: using a crude bundle of dry twigs they’d gathered from sparse desert shrubs, some shredded fabric for kindling, and a spark struck from a flint Naruto had tucked away in his gear. It had taken patience and more than a few muttered curses, but eventually, the flame caught and grew just enough to cast a flickering glow across the cave walls. It gave off a modest warmth, hardly sufficient to ward off the desert’s sharp chill, but at least it kept them from sitting in absolute darkness. The soft, inconsistent glow illuminated the contours of the cave just enough for them to see each other’s expressions, the tightness in their features, the exhaustion beginning to set in.

Naruto huddled close to the fire at first, his back pressed against the stone, arms curled around his knees, cloak wrapped tightly around himself. He could hear the faint whistle of Suigetsu’s breathing from the other side, uneven and faintly rasping. It was nothing too dramatic, but just off enough to scrape at Naruto’s nerves like sandpaper.

It had been a long day. Their supplies were meager, water even more so, and while Naruto had made do with the few sips taken from the wadi, Suigetsu, despite his aqueous physiology, seemed to be suffering more than he let on. His usual snark had dulled to a low simmer, his voice gravelly and dry as if coated in dust, and though he’d been stubborn enough to keep his mouth running by talking nonsense to fill the silence, his shoulders now curled inward, a tremor occasionally passing through his lanky frame. Even with his arms crossed and hood up, he was visibly cold, his body drawn in like a wilting leaf under frostbite.

Naruto glanced over, biting the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t like he owed Suigetsu anything—hell, the guy had basically threatened him earlier in the day and constantly got on his nerves—but still, he couldn’t help it. The white-haired man was suffering, that much was clear, and Naruto’s instinct to protect, to extend a hand regardless of how irritating the recipient might be, ran deeper than any grudge or wounded pride.

“Tch.”

He clicked his tongue, frustrated at himself more than anything else. Sakura once half-jokingly called him an idiot with a gigiantic saviour complex, and he had scoffed it off because of how ridiculous it sounded, but right now he’s hating himself for thinking that she might be right.

Suigetsu didn’t move, just gave a faint noise that could’ve been a groan or a sigh, or maybe just the wind.

Naruto shifted. “Hey,” he said after a beat, voice low but clear. “You doing okay?”

No answer. Not right away, at least. Then came a grumble, “Peachy. Why bother asking though, like you care?”

The blond rolled his eyes, even though the other couldn’t see it clearly in the darkness. 

“Look, it’s cold. And I know you're not exactly built for dry weather like this. So…” He trailed off, debating the best way to phrase what he was about to offer without sounding too soft. “You can take my cloak if you want. Or we could, y’know, share body heat. Not ideal, but… better than freezing.”

There was a pause.

A long one.

Then, “Wow. Didn’t know you were into this kinda thing, Naruto.”

Naruto groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I knew you were gonna say something like that.”

Suigetsu’s voice came closer now, accompanied by the sound of shuffling sand and dragging cloth. He hadn’t stood up, but he’d definitely moved, probably inching nearer without admitting that he was doing just that. 

“I mean,” the white-haired man continued, a weak chuckle trailing behind the words like smoke. “If you’re gonna play nurse, might as well enjoy it, right? Though I bet you were hoping this would be Sasuke instead of me. All dark eyes and icy brooding. Mm, classic.”

Naruto’s fists twitched on instinct. He didn’t even remember curling them up. 

“Shut up,” he muttered, heat flaring in his cheeks, and it was definitely not from the weather.

“Don’t deny it,” Suigetsu rasped, sounding more amused than ever despite the chattering edge in his voice. “Bet you’ve dreamed of this exact scenario. Cold cave. Moonlight. Emotional vulnerability. Heavy breathing.” He made a wheezing sound, which might’ve been a laugh or just another dry cough. “Only problem is wrong person—you’re stuck with a Hoozuki instead of an Uchiha.”

The blond didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted over and let his cloak fall around both of them, his body warm from residual chakra flow and the faint heat trapped under the fabric. 

Suigetsu didn’t flinch or pull away. If anything, he slumped a little closer, his body colder than expected, limbs awkward but pliant as he let himself lean just enough to soak up the offered warmth.

“You talk too much,” Naruto finally said, voice gruff, staring out into the darkness where the cave entrance sat like a mouthless void.

“Mmhm. But you’re listening.” The words were softer now, tinged with the kind of tiredness that no amount of snark could mask.

“Don’t piss me off or I’ll withdraw all of this heat ‘cuz you deserve to suffer alone in silence,” the blond warned before Suigetsu could have any idea to ruin this… not-a-moment.

“So cold,” Suigetsu complained half-heartedly, though he didn’t seem to enjoy the notion of teasing Naruto now. “I’m beat for today, though. You’ll have all the quiet you want, happy now?”

Naruto only snorted as a reply.

For a while, neither spoke. The wind outside whistled its ghostly tune, sand scraped across stone, and somewhere far off, a desert bird let out a single, echoing cry. 

In the quiet that followed, Suigetsu’s breathing began to even out, slow and steady, while Naruto stayed alert, eyes half-lidded but never entirely closed. He could feel the weight of the day pressing against his shoulders, the unspoken fears, the heavy truths, and the vow that still echoed like a mantra in his chest: I will never give up on him.

Not on Sasuke.

Not on himself.

And maybe, just maybe, not even on the annoying individuals who guarded Sasuke like protective wolves, concern and care buried deep behind their sharp teeth and provoking attitude.

But he would never admit that out loud to anyone, though.

.

.

“I’m glad that you two idiots managed to not end each other when left alone,” a familiar voice echoed from the mouth of the cave, smooth and dry with unmistakable amusement laced beneath the fatigue. “Though I admit that I didn’t expect to see you two being rather… chummy like that.”

In an instant, both Naruto and Suigetsu jolted upright like they’d been zapped with a live wire. In their scramble, the shared cloak tangled between them, and Suigetsu nearly tripped over Naruto's outstretched leg while Naruto flailed an arm behind him in a wild attempt to look composed. 

The moment’s silence shattered with a muffled grunt and a hissed curse, the two of them practically vaulting apart as though physical distance could erase the obvious image of what Sasuke had just walked in on.

The fire had long since burned out, reduced to a cold nest of gray ash and half-buried embers. The morning light spilled faintly into the cave, brushing pale gold against the cave’s jagged walls, illuminating the scene with all the subtlety of a kunai to the gut.

“Just not yet,” Suigetsu snorted, brushing sand from his pants with as much dignity as he could summon. His tone was light, unbothered, but the pink at the tips of his ears said otherwise. “Give us another hour and it might actually happen.”

“Or I can do that for you to save some time,” Sasuke replied, stepping further into the cave, his silhouette framed by the brightening sky behind him. His words carried a familiar sharpness, but Naruto could hear the rasp beneath, the kind of weariness that clung to someone who had been travelling constantly far too long without rest. “Any injuries?” He added, eyes flicking between them, his usual clinical efficiency sliding back into place.

His eyes scanned them up and down, Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan flared to existence, crimson red bleeding inside his right eye, which seemed a bit swollen than usual. 

Naruto cleared his throat, finally rising to his feet and rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Nothing serious,” he said, voice a little rough from the cold and maybe a bit hoarser than he meant it to be. “Just frozen asses and bad dreams.”

Suigetsu muttered something that sounded suspiciously like and terrible snoring under his breath, flopping back against the cave wall with an exaggerated sigh.

Sasuke nodded, his stiff shoulders seemed to relax a little. Looking at this proximity, the dark bags under his eyes were so visible it made him look like a panda. His hair also lost its usual glossy narute, now it was dry and a bit tangled at some spots. His clothes weren’t a mess like them, but clearly had been through some restless travel, dirt and grimes clinging to the tattered hem of the cloak.

Before any of them could voice their concern about his state out loud, Sasuke held out two bags, putting each down in front of them. 

“For you two.”

Suigetsu snatched his bag up immediately, looking inside with a wide grin. “Cold and clean water, sweet! I know that you love me Sas~”

“Only because you’ll bug me and complain non-stop when you’re not getting enough water,” Sasuke grumbled, but the small, visible tips of his ears that perked through his hair were flushed pink. “I’d rather take precautionary measures than deal with the consequences.”

“Whatever you said, Sas.”

Suigetsu’s sing-song tone didn’t sound that irritating in Naruto’s ears when it faded into white noises as he opened his own bag and found some ramen cups. His favourite flavours from his most eaten brand, no less.

“Can’t bring you Ichiraku’s, I guess those will do,” Sasuke mumbled and didn’t look at Naruto. “For hot water, just take some of Suigetsu’s, I’ll help you boil it.”

“Hey! Neither of you can wrench any bottle out of my cold, dead hands!” Suigetsu protested, hugging the bag closer to his chest in a protective gesture.

Naruto snickered at that, only to hide his misty eyes at the quiet, gentle care from Sasuke, as if there were no arguments between them prior. He’d like to take back something about the raven-haired man he said to Kakashi before—it wasn’t like Sasuke couldn’t take care of himself since he was this attentive toward others’ needs, he just so often neglected his own health and well-being in favour of other people.

“You two settle it on your own,” Sasuke decided, taking one step closer toward them, slightly hunching as if he was about to sit down. “Just let me rest for a bit before I take you idiots back.” 

Right after that, he promptly collapsed in front of them. 

Both Naruto and Suigetsu’s arms shot out in reflex, bags in hands forgotten as the stuff inside tumbled and fell down. The blond was closer so he succeeded in catching Sasuke before he face-planting the ground.

“Oi, teme, why you—” A teasing ready on Naruto’s lips died when he adjusted his arms, skin brushing against the nape of Sasuke’s neck. The heat was startling—it wasn’t warm, not even feverish, but a dry, scorching burn that made him jolt back as if seared. Words tumbled out of his mouth, coloured with worry. “What the hell! Why are you so hot?!”

He regretted his phrasing the second the words escaped his mouth, but a quick glance toward Suigetsu showed an uncharacteristically grim expression, the usual glint of mockery in his eyes replaced by sharp, concerned focus. He didn’t even crack a smirk. That alone made Naruto's stomach twist.

Meanwhile Suigetsu, already sensing the wrongness in Sasuke’s unnaturally stiff, almost mechanical movements, immediately straightened up his cloak and placed it on a cooler part further inside the cave. 

“Lay him down here, carefully.”

Naruto lifted Sasuke up, momentarily thinking back about his fleeting thoughts before—no, his words to Kakashi were true, Sasuke really couldn’t take care of himself. His level of self-preservation was astonishingly low to an alarming rate, it was both a mystery and a miracle how he was still alive at this point. 

The blond cradled Sasuke in his arms as he carried him a short distance before kneeling down slowly. His chest clenched as he settled Sasuke onto the cloak, noting just how light he felt, like a porcelain figure balanced on the edge of shattering.

With careful fingers, Naruto undid a few buttons of Sasuke’s outer cloak and then the inner shirt, trying to give his body even the slightest relief from the searing heat. The touch of his skin was worrisome, dry and unnaturally hot, as though he’d been walking through fire. Naruto’s gaze lingered for a moment, despite himself.

The hollow of Sasuke’s throat rose and fell in shallow breaths, his collarbone sharp beneath fevered skin. The smooth line of his neck was pale and unblemished, almost translucent in the dim morning light. And his face… softer in unconsciousness than Naruto had ever seen it. No scowl, no sharp edges in his expression, just quiet and vulnerability that felt so unlike him it made Naruto’s heart twist.

Sasuke looked breakable.

Beautiful, yes, but in that dangerous, aching way a glass sculpture was beautiful: delicate, fragile, and frighteningly easy to shatter if you so much touched it the wrong way.

“Tsk.”

Suigetsu reached out to touch Sasuke’s forehead, the sheer disapproval evident in that one word he uttered, though whether it was about Sasuke’s state or Naruto’s lingering gaze, nobody knew. He was still merciful enough to not voice his opinion out loud, and the blond was thankful for that.

Naruto swallowed hard and tore his eyes away from the soft curves of Sasuke’s lips. Focus, he reminded himself. Sasuke needs help. This isn’t the time.

“Dammit…” He muttered under his breath, voice low and tight as his hand hovered helplessly above the raven-haired man’s feverish form.

“He’s burning up,” Suigetsu confirmed darkly, his fingers brushing against Sasuke’s forehead with uncharacteristic gentleness. “And he’s not sweating. This is bad.”

The two of them scrambled to act, instinctively falling into a rhythm despite their usual bickering. Neither was a trained medic-nin, but that didn’t stop them from trying. 

The moment they opened themselves up, chakra humming faint and tentative, both of them felt it—the sheer chaos inside Sasuke’s chakra network.

It rolled off him in waves, not like the coiled, restrained strength they were familiar with, but something jagged, cracked at the edges, wild and buckling, like a dam about to break under pressure. 

Suigetsu, though not a sensor-type like Karin, winced almost instantly, rubbing his arms as if the air itself had gone static. It reminded him of being too close to a lightning storm—sharp, electric, and unbearably wrong. 

Naruto’s reaction was more visceral, his own chakra shuddered as if trying to reject the closeness, instinctively repelled by the fractured energy that pulsed in uneven beats from Sasuke’s core. 

“What the hell were you doing…” He whispered, reaching to adjust Sasuke’s collar again as if it might help him breathe.

It only got worse when they noticed the dried streaks of blood on Sasuke’s cheeks. Those were faint, but unmistakably there in thin, delicate lines of red cutting through pale skin. They looked too clean, too precise, like the raven-haired man had washed them off before to hide the after-effect of the bloody tears that had fallen.

“… He overused his eyes,” Naruto murmured, his throat tightening with the weight of those words.

“Both of them,” Suigetsu said, squatting beside them, eyebrows furrowed in a grimace. “Those aren’t just regular bleeding, it’s an ocular backlash. He pushed both the Rinnegan and the Eternal Mangekyou too far again.”

He didn’t need to say more. The signs were clear: chakra depletion, high fever, the spiraling storm inside his network, the bleeding eyes. This wasn’t just exhaustion. Sasuke had burned himself out from the inside.

Again.

Naruto clenched his fists so tightly that his nails bit into his palms. “Damn you, Sasuke. What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“What now?” Suigetsu asked tersely, already checking Sasuke’s limbs for any obvious injuries. “We’re not medics, but there should be at least one or two things we can do. Can you deal with the charka depletion? My charka nature isn’t compatible with his, and it isn’t like I have much to spare right now.”

“I can try to give him chakra,” Naruto said without hesitation. “I’ve done it before.”

Not to mention that both his own charka reserve and Kurama’s were abundant in nature, so it wouldn’t be a problem for him to give Sasuke as much charka as he needed.

Suigetsu didn’t argue, but when Naruto pressed his palm against Sasuke’s chest and began transferring chakra, he felt the pushback almost immediately. The chakra refused to settle. It lashed, clashed, and twisted violently inside Sasuke’s pathways, as though his body couldn’t recognise the intruder. The more the blond gave, the more it grated, as if trying to force oil through dry, cracking veins.

“He’s rejecting it,” Naruto gritted through his teeth. “But this couldn’t be too much for him…”

“Or he’s too weak to hold it in and make it his own right now,” Suigetsu said, tone sharp and urgent. “He’s not stabilising. Your charka’s shredding his charka path apart!”

Naruto’s hand trembled where it hovered over Sasuke’s chest, distinctively feeling his erratic breaths in a shallow, uneven rhythm. Did I make a grave mistake just now?!

“Stop pushing your charka into him!” Suigetsu shouted but he didn’t touch Naruto, probably didn’t want to worsen the situation by any accidental move. “Ask your fox or at least slow the flow down—do something, damn it!”

“Kurama!” Normally, Naruto would’ve snapped at Suigetsu for bossing him around, but right now he had no spare thoughts to care about it. He called inwardly, panic etching its edges into his tone. “Help me please!”

Kurama stirred within, a grumble rolling like distant thunder.

“Idiot brat. Pouring raw chakra into an already weakened and unstable body like this is like trying to dump water into a shattered bowl.”

“Then help me fix the bowl!” Naruto barked back inside his own mind. Before Kurama could chide him for talking rudely, he added, desperation crackling like static behind his eyes. “Please, I’ll do anything as you say, just help me save him!”

“… Fine. But I’ll guide the flow. You stay grounded, and let that swordsman anchor his own part.”

Naruto snapped his head up, turning toward Suigetsu.

“Suigetsu, I need you to help stabilise Sasuke physically. Keep his breathing steady if it shifts. You’re grounded in water nature, that might help balance things out.”

The white-haired man frowned, one hand tangled in his hair, absentmindedly scratching the back of his head as if he’s troubled. Still, he only let out a sigh and didn’t protest to Naruto’s request.

“I’m not Karin, but yeah, I’ll try.”

They started to work again, more tentative but also hurried this time, with Naruto focused on listening to Kurama’s instructions inside his head to center and shape the charka into a slow, warm pulse instead of the surging wave before. Suigetsu held Sasuke’s wrist, those violet eyes glued to his chest, paying close attention to his pulse and his breathing rhythm. He occasionally cursed under his breaths when things spiked out of control but he didn’t snap at Naruto or do anything drastic, which was both a blessing and a testament of how deep his loyalty and concern ran.

Minute by painstaking minute, the erratic surges of Sasuke’s chakra began to smooth. The pressure in the air lessened. The wild pulse ebbed to a calmer hum.

Sasuke’s breathing slowly evened out. The flush of dangerous heat dimmed.

When Naruto lifted his hand up as the charka flow ebbed and stopped, he let out a long sigh of relief. Suigetsu slumped on the other side of Sasuke, shoulders visibly relaxed as if a huge weight had just been lifted.

“Did we succeed?” Naruto asked despite himself, wariness coloured his tone.

“Of course we did!” Kurama roared inside him, clearly displeased. “Don’t you dare doubt me, you insolent brat!”

Naruto apologised to him, but deep down, he neither felt truly sorry nor at ease. Probably sensing his inner turmoil, the nine-tailed fox huffed but didn’t scold him further.

“We did,” Suigetsu confirmed, reaching forward to gently brush a damp strand of hair off Sasuke’s forehead. He pressed the back of his hand to the pale skin, frowning. “His fever is still high, but he’s sweating now. That’s a good sign. I’ll keep him hydrated for a while. You get some rest.” 

Only now that Naruto noticed the faint tremor in his own hands and how sweat was dripping from his temple, the tension and exhaustion from the previously intense concentration was slowly setting in.

“I’m fine.”

He said, mostly out of sheer stubbornness, but Suigetsu didn’t even bother to look up as he scoffed, “Don’t overexert yourself. I’m not qualified to take care of one sick idiot, let alone two. If you keel over, I swear to god I’ll drown you.”

Naruto wanted to argue more, but after a few strenuous breaths, he begrudgingly accepted that Suigetsu was right. His muscles were screaming for rest, and his stomach let out a loud, desperate growl. Right. He had overused his already low stamina for the task of transfering charka, thus exhaustion and hunger were not a fun mix.

“May I use a bottle of water?” He asked, holding up a cup of instant ramen from the bag Sasuke brought him. “I can make one for you too, if you want.”

“Sure.”

Suigetsu’s simple reply was so uncharacteristically cooperative that it took Naruto aback for a second before he shrugged, deciding on not psychoanalysing the other right now. 

He left the cave and returned about fifteen minutes later with a small bundle of twigs and dry brush. After another perfunctory check on Sasuke—which earned him an unimpressed “He’s not going to be alright after just a few moments, blondie.” from Suigetsu—Naruto started the fire and carefully balanced the water bottle over it. It was tricky not to melt the plastic, but eventually he got the water hot enough to soften the noodles.

The ramen, once ready, was pitiful at best. The broth was thin, the flavour barely there, and the additional seasoning did little to enhance the overall taste. Naruto had definitely had it worse, though, notably the time he’d tried to stretch expired miso paste into a full meal. 

Meanwhile, Suigetsu said nothing when Naruto handed him the other cup, he just took a quick glance and then started eating without a single complaint.

They ate in silence. Not out of tension, but from sheer weariness. The cave was quiet, the flickering firelight casting long shadows across the walls and over Sasuke’s still form. His breathing was audible now, slow and heavy, but steady. That alone gave them enough comfort to swallow the tasteless meal without comment.

When they finished, Naruto put their cups aside and wiped his hands on his pants. Suigetsu pulled out a fresh bottle of water from the supply pile and gently coaxed Sasuke’s lips open to help him drink. A bit of it spilled down his chin, but most of it went in.

Suigetsu sat back on his heels, eyeing Sasuke’s still-flushed form critically. Then, without any preamble, he reached out and started unfastening the remaining buttons of Sasuke’s shirt.

Naruto blinked. “Wait, what are you—?”

“Cooling him down,” Suigetsu replied matter-of-factly, his fingers brisk and unbothered as he peeled the fabric away from Sasuke’s damp skin. “You know how fevers work, don’t you?”

Naruto opened his mouth to object, but the words didn’t quite make it out. His brain stalled.

The shirt slipped off Sasuke’s shoulders, revealing pale skin bathed in soft light, slick with sweat, collarbones sharp and elegant, the slow rise and fall of his chest mesmerising in a way Naruto refused to think about too closely. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Sasuke shirtless, but something about this moment—the stillness, the quiet vulnerability, the way that flush of fever painted across his cheekbones—made Naruto’s stomach twist.

He stared.

Absolutely, shamelessly stared.

It wasn’t until Suigetsu started unbuckling Sasuke’s belt that Naruto snapped out of it, face rapidly going red.

“Oi, stop, what the hell!? You can’t just—!!”

“Relax.” Suigetsu shot him a dry look. “It’s not for fun. He needs as much surface area exposed as possible for this to work. Keep your pants on.”

“I am keeping my pants on! You’re the one—!”

But before Naruto could get properly outraged, Suigetsu’s limbs began to shimmer. His form blurred at the edges, then collapsed inward, limbs dissolving like liquid glass. In seconds, he had melted down into a clear, cool stream of water, his voice drifting out, calm and almost echoing.

“Skin-on-skin contact helps with heat regulation. I’m not going to hurt him.”

Naruto flushed harder. “You’re not seriously going to lie on him like that!”

“Exactly,” Suigetsu replied, his liquid form gliding across Sasuke’s bare chest and shoulders with eerie precision. “Don’t make it weird. This is just science.”

Naruto’s mouth opened, then it wordlessly closed again. His heart pounded so fast inside his chest that he felt dizzy for a second. He’d blame it on the residual chakra use, not because of the bare expanse of Sasuke’s torso right in front of him. Definitely not.

Still, the blond bristled, his fists clenching. He could feel a protest crawling up his throat like a stubborn knot. The idea of anyone lying that close to Sasuke—touching him, even for practical reasons—dug into some place inside him that he didn’t want to name.

But then he looked at Sasuke’s face again. Still flushed, still too hot. Still too vulnerable.

Finally, he let out a slow breath and forced his hands to unclench. 

“Fine,” Naruto muttered, swallowing hard. “Just don’t… don’t make it weird.”

“Blondie, I am literally a puddle of water,” Suigetsu said, and didn’t bother to hide the dry amusement in his tone. “Things can hardly get weirder than that.”

Naruto had nothing to reply to that. He sat down with a heavy thump, dragging a hand down his burning face.

This isn’t about me. It’s about Sasuke. Focus, Naruto.

Still, he didn’t look again for a while. Just in case.

…

Chapter Text

10, Fraying at the edges.

…

After about an hour, Suigetsu finally slid off Sasuke and materialised back to his human form, much to Naruto’s relief. The glistening layer of liquid peeled away from Sasuke’s skin like morning mist receding at dawn, pooling beside him before slowly coalescing into the familiar shape of the white-haired swordsman. Limbs solidified, the sheen of water fading from Suigetsu’s skin as he stretched out with a groan, cracking his neck and flexing his fingers as if shedding an invisible weight.

Naruto leaned over, brushing two fingers against Sasuke’s neck, then his temple. A small frown creased his eyebrows as he took his time checking the temperature. At last, he gave a short, begrudging nod.

“I’ll admit it,” he muttered, flopping back against the wall with a huff. “Your cooling method, as unconventional as it was, worked. His fever’s not gone, but it’s damn close. Way better than earlier.” 

Suigetsu let out a long sigh as he slumped against the cave’s wall, “Man, I just ate but I’m already hungry now.”

“Want some ramen? We’ve still got a few cups left.”

Naruto tentatively offered. He was reluctant to part with them because, firstly, Sasuke had bought them for him, and secondly, the flavours were his favourites. But well, Suigetsu had also helped a lot, and he wasn’t petty or selfish enough to deny the other a meal.

Suigetsu perked slightly but then wrinkled his nose. 

“Nah, thanks, but I guess I’ll pass. I want something cold, like shaved ice or one of those big melon popsicles.”

Naruto snorted, “Well, sorry to disappoint. I don’t carry a freezer in my pocket.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” Suigetsu smirked, lounging like a lazy cat in the shade. “I’ll just bully Sasuke into buying me some when he’s back on his feet.”

The blond scowled. “Sasuke’s sick. Don’t you dare treat him like your errand boy.”

“Blondie, which part of ‘when he’s back on his feet’ that didn’t get into your thick skull?” Suigetsu rolled his eyes.

“He’s not your servant,” Naruto sniffed. “Don’t act all high and mighty like that, it’s irksome.”

“Hold your horses, nobody’s being treated like a slave here,” the white-haired swordsman gave the other a glance that was borderline pitiful as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain this like a math lesson for a particularly dense child. “And Sasuke will do it without complaints because he hates being indebted to people. It’s just some ice cream, why are you being so defensive over it?”

“I—” 

Naruto was momentarily at a loss for words. He just knew that he disliked the idea of Sasuke doing as Suigetsu said, though the whys eluded him. It wasn’t like Suigetsu—or most people, for that matter—could force Sasuke to do anything he didn’t want to, thus most of the things Sasuke did would be out of his free will.

At that moment, Sasuke stirred, and Naruto was spared of trying to find a reply when both his and Suigetsu’s attention was immediately directed toward the raven-haired man. 

With some slow, owlish blinks, Sasuke blearily opened his eyes. Then his eyebrows furrowed, his breath hitched, and those dark eyes widened. They were glassy with the remnants of fever, but already alert. 

His gaze flicked around the dim cave, confused and cautious. Then came the brief flicker of panic, so fast it almost passed unnoticed, just before he abruptly sat up.

Naruto shot forward in alarm, only to stop when Sasuke’s hand darted to his side, instinctively reaching for a sword that wasn’t there. His fingers met bare skin instead, and the faintest tremor coursed through his frame.

He looked down at himself, dishevelled and half-naked, and froze.

Meanwhile, Naruto’s throat suddenly went dry. He tried so hard not to stare at the curve of his collarbone, or the pale skin dotted with drying sweat, or the slightly pink nipples that somehow glistened in the light like they wanted him to look. 

Goddamnit brain, why are you like this?!

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Sas,” Suigetsu piped in cheerfully, cutting through the awkward tension like a kunai to a balloon. His cheerful tone was both jarring and relieving at the same time that the blond couldn’t decide whether he should feel annoyed or thankful. “You scared the crap out of us, y’know?”

“I—” Sasuke croaked, then cleared his throat. His gaze dropped again to his state of undress, a faint but undeniable flush blooming across his cheekbones. “What happened…?”

“You passed out like a sack of potatoes. Chakra depletion, high fever, ocular backlash, the full package. You’re lucky you found us before that,” Suigetsu rattled off, gesturing vaguely as if listing symptoms off a scroll. “What would’ve happened if you collapsed somewhere alone?”

Sasuke scowled. “That wouldn’t have happened.”

“Yeah, yeah, because you’re one stubborn son of a bitch,” the white-haired man snorted. “Blondie over there gave you some charka, and I helped with regulating your temperature. You owe both of us this time, Sas.”

Sasuke’s gaze shifted to Naruto. There was no dramatic reveal, no slow-motion emotional swell, just the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth and a kind of soft weariness in his eyes that made Naruto’s heart skip.

He didn’t wait for a response. He simply moved to Sasuke’s side and reached out, inadvertently making him flinch at the sudden movement.

“Let me check your fever,” he said, pressing his palm gently against his forehead. The other startled at that again but still let him, and Naruto let out a sigh of relief as he could feel that Sasuke’s skin was only slightly warm now, not the scorching burn that had him frantic with worry before. “Good, you’re not that hot anymore.”

This time, Suigetsu didn’t let that slide. “Since when Sasuke stops being hot in your eyes, blondie?”

“Shut up, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Naruto snapped at the irritating man, the tips of his ears reddening.

Across from him, Sasuke seemed to be even more self-conscious about his half-naked state. He had started pulling his cloak up around himself, eyes averted, the flush deepening on his cheeks as he muttered. 

“Stop talking, both of you.”

A flustered Sasuke is so adorable, Naruto thought. He’d kill me if I voiced it out loud, though.

“You hungry?” Suigetsu took one long look at the other two before deciding to give them some mercy and stop teasing Naruto. “We only have the ramen you brought, though, unless you want some charred desert delicacy, I can try to catch a few.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Sasuke shook his head, voice slightly hoarse. “Just give me some water and let me rest a little bit more, then I can bring us back to Konoha.”

Naruto immediately protested, “No, you’re still weak, and your fever’s still there! I won’t let you overexert yourself again that soon!”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint as his Sharingan flared to life. “Call me weak again,” he said, his voice low and lethal. “And I’ll end you.”

Naruto snapped his mouth shut with a visible gulp.

“Water,” Suigetsu wisely chose to not join the suddenly heated argument. He held up a half-emptied bottle toward Sasuke, casually diverting the topic. “By the way, where are we now?”

“Wadi Rum,” Sasuke replied, taking the bottle of water and having a few sips before continuing. “Also known as Valley of the Moon, southern Jordan.”

“Cool name. Never heard of it before,” Suigetsu commented, and didn’t seem to be particularly interested in knowing further.

“Are we… out of the country?” Naruto questioned, bewildered. “How far away?”

“Very,” Sasuke gave him a vague answer, which was as good as none. 

“Uhm,” the blond eloquently cleared his throat. “So… how’s the rift at the border of Konoha?”

“Inspected and closed,” this time, Sasuke’s answer was longer. “Not a threat.”

Naruto let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slightly drooped. “Good to hear that.”

They fell into silence afterward. Not suffocating, but not exactly comforting either, as the blond couldn’t help but dart his gaze toward Sasuke every five seconds. With how perceptive the raven-haired man was, Naruto had no doubts that he already noticed it, but he wasn’t sure how long Sasuke would keep quiet before calling him out. 

Meanwhile, Sasuke was slowly re-dressing himself. His elegant, slender fingers moved deftly across every button and clasp as if dancing to an unheard melody, sealing away each inch of milky skin from Naruto’s (wishfully) discreet gaze. The action itself was in no way seductive, but for some reason, heat still flamed the blond’s cheeks as if he was watching something strangely erotic. 

“I can boil some water and an egg over your face right now, blondie.”

Suigetsu’s teasing tone interrupted Naruto’s train of thought before it ventured into the gutter, and he wasn’t sure whether he should feel thankful or offended. His hands flew to his face to check the temperature, and the relief was short-lived—his cheeks were not that hot, of course the white-haired menace was just exaggerating. 

“Shut up,” Naruto snapped at him but only half-heartedly. “It’s just a bit warm here.”

Sasuke only gave him a quizzical look but didn’t comment on that. He had finished the last button, his cloak fell into place, and now he was standing up with an impressively impassive expression that could totally hide his exhaustion if they only looked at his face.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing?” Suigetsu clicked his tongue. “You’re in no shape to sit up now, left alone walking, so lay back down, Sas.”

“I know my body better than you,” Sasuke narrowed his eyes on him. “And don’t boss me around. Last time I checked, I’m still your leader.”

“Yeah, yeah, an idiotic one who can’t even take proper care of himself,” Suigetsu snorted. “And what kind of teammate I am if I let my leader overexert himself again when he’s not even fully recovered?”

“An obedient one,” Sasuke snapped back, voice tinged with exhaustion. His gaze flickered toward Naruto, who was opening his mouth as if he was ready to jump into the conversation. “And save your words, Naruto. I know that we’re not teammates anymore and I’m also not your leader, but I’ll be thankful if you stop fussing over me like this idiot.”

For a second, hurt flashed across Naruto’s expression before he growled, his voice thick with annoyance, “What do you mean? I’m still your teammate, team Seven hasn’t been disbanded!”

“That wasn’t the part I wanted you to focus on,” now irritation was evident in Sasuke’s tone. He threw Suigetsu a warning glare as the other started to cackle like a maniac. “And you. If you’re not being helpful, then at least do us a favour and shut up.”

“I haven’t said anything yet!” Suigetsu protested.

“You’re about to, and it’s grating on my nerves,” the raven-haired man groaned, dragging a hand across his face. “Seriously, both of you, stop talking before I regret coming here to pick you up and decide to leave you stranded for another week.”

The idea of spending another day with Suigetsu was horrible, left alone for a whole week, so Naruto wisely closed his mouth. It seemed like the white-haired swordsman also came to the same conclusion as him, and it was both annoying and hilariously sarcastic that their despisal was so mutual they agreed with each other on that matter.

“That’s better.” 

Sasuke said after a blessed ten seconds of quiet, his voice softer but still firm. He moved through the cave with careful steps, retrieving Suigetsu’s sword and handing it to him with a nod. He draped Naruto’s cloak over the blond’s shoulders, his fingers brushing the fabric briefly before pulling away. 

Before Naruto could ask about the cup noodles or water, Sasuke’s hand closed around his collar, yanking him forward. The air around them warped and twisted as reality bent in a dizzying swirl.

Naruto bit on his bottom lip to stop the nauseating feeling from travelling up to his throat and getting out. Teleportation was never a fun experience.

.

.

.

“I hate this method of travelling so much,” Suigetsu dry-heaved, doubling over with a hand braced on his knee, his white hair sticking to his sweat-damp forehead. He retched once more, glaring at Sasuke through bleary violet eyes. “You couldn’t pick a smoother ride, could you?”

Sasuke didn’t reply to him. His hand, which was still gripping Naruto’s collar, began to loosen, but something was wrong. His fingers shimmered faintly underneath the bright sunlight, their edges blurring as if dissolving into mist, phasing through the fabric before slipping free entirely. 

Naruto stumbled forward, unbalanced, as Sasuke’s hand fell away—not dropped, but faded, like a ghost passing through a wall.

The three of them froze, staring at the raven-haired man’s arm in stunned silence. 

Sasuke’s mismatched eyes widened, a rare flash of alarm breaking his stoic mask as he flexed his fingers, testing their solidity. They wavered, half-transparent, before snapping back into focus. His hand was trembling faintly, its outline flickering like a candle in the wind. 

“What the hell—!?” 

Naruto’s voice cracked, his heart lurching as he reached for Sasuke’s wrist, an urgent instinct overriding the initial shock. 

His fingers closed around nothing, grasping air where flesh should’ve been. 

Sasuke’s arm flickered again, and Naruto’s hand passed through it like it was just an illusion, leaving a faint ripple like a thrown stone disturbing a still pond.

Sasuke yanked his arm back as if scalded, his breath hitching, his cloak fluttering with the sharp movement. His eyes darted to his hand, then to Naruto’s before his gaze quickly averted as he noticed a storm of confusion and something dangerously close to fear swirling in those azure depths.

Suigetsu snapped out of it first, his sharp voice cutting through the haze. 

“Naruto, move your ass! Get Karin and a medic—now!” He shoved Naruto toward the village, his usual frivolity gone, replaced by a steely urgency. “I’ve got him. Go!”

Naruto’s head spun, a thousand questions galloping in his mind—What’s happening? Why’s he fading? Is this my fault?—but Suigetsu’s shout jolted him into action. He nodded, his jaw tight, and sprinted toward Konoha, his sandals pounding the dirt path, the village’s rooftops blurring past as his heart hammered with dread.

Back at the clearing, Suigetsu’s eyes narrowed, assessing Sasuke’s flickering form. 

“Hold still,” he muttered, his tone softer than usual, a rare hint of concern replacing the usual bite. He raised a hand, his arm shimmering as it liquefied, water-like tendrils extending to wrap around Sasuke’s torso and arms, anchoring him. 

The liquid pulsed faintly, stabilising Sasuke’s phasing body, keeping him tethered to reality. Sasuke tensed but didn’t resist, his breath shallow, his gaze fixed on the ground as if willing himself to stay whole.

“Easy,” Suigetsu said, his voice low, almost gentle. “I’ve got you. Don’t go vanishing on me, yeah?”

Sasuke’s lips pressed into a thin line, his flush from earlier replaced by a pallor that made his skin look ghostly pale under the bright light. 

“This… it’s never been this extreme before,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, each word heavy with unease, his mismatched eyes flickering with a rare glint of uncertainty.

Suigetsu nodded grimly, his violet eyes darkening as memories surfaced—fainter flickers, brief moments of Sasuke’s form wavering after some grueling dimensional jumps, but nothing like this. His grip tightened, the liquid tendrils rippling with effort as he steadied Sasuke’s phasing body. 

“Yeah, well,” he agreed, his voice low and stripped of its usual flippancy. “Let’s not make it worse.”

“No hospitals,” Sasuke rasped, his voice sharp despite his weakened state. A dash of fear and annoyance crossed his face before he schooled it into an indifferent mask. “I don’t want to be prodded and cornered like some caged animal by a bunch of strangers.”

“How can you still be a pain in the ass at such a moment like this,” Suigetsu rolled his eyes but still acquiesced. “But well, I’ve got you. No hospitals it is.”

.

Naruto burst through countless streets and alleys, his chest heaving as he skidded to a stop outside team Taka’s residence. 

“Karin!” He bellowed, banging on the door with enough force to rattle the frame. “Karin, it’s an emergency!”

The door flew open, revealing the redhead in a rumpled tank top and shorts, her red hair a wild tangle, glasses slightly askew. Juugo stood behind her, looking slightly more awake and alert but also confused.

“What the hell, Naruto?” Karin groaned, rubbing the sleepiness still clung to her eyes. “It’s still early—Oh.” Her gaze sharpened, sensing the panic rolling off him in waves. “What happened?”

“Sasuke,” Naruto gasped, his words tumbling out. “He’s—he’s fading. His hand phased through me like—like he wasn’t solid! Suigetsu’s with him, but we need you and a medic, now.”

Karin’s face paled while Juugo’s expression darkened, but their bodies jumped into action right after without missing a beat. Karin’s movements were swift as she ran back to her room to grab a coat and her satchel, while Juugo already started to put on his shoes, his fingers trembling faintly with wariness.

“I’m coming,” he said, his deep voice steady, leaving no room for argument.

“Take us to him,” Karin ordered, already moving, her voice clipped with urgency. 

Naruto nodded, leading Karin and Juugo back to the clearing at a breakneck pace, his guts churning with the vivid imagination of worst-case scenarios. He had to divert his attention toward Karin’s light footsteps and Juugo’s steady ones to keep his mind grounded. 

They arrived to find Suigetsu still holding their leader, his liquid form enveloping Sasuke’s lower half, the water-like sheen glinting in the rising sun. Sasuke’s expression was taut, his eyes half-lidded, his body flickering less but still unnaturally translucent at the edges.

Karin’s hands flew to her mouth as her eyes widened with shock and concern, while Juugo’s gaze locked onto Sasuke, his broad frame tensing further, worry leaking through his usually calm demeanour.

Naruto hesitated, wanting to stay, but Suigetsu’s sharp voice cut through. 

“Change of plans, blondie. No hospital—Sasuke’s orders. Get Tsunade or Sakura to our place instead. Juugo’ll carry him once Karin’s done with the initial stabilisation.”

Juugo nodded at Naruto, his expression unyielding, and Naruto knew arguing was pointless. His lips pressed into a tight line as he gave a curt nod, then bolted toward the Hokage Tower, where the hospital and Tsunade’s office were also nearby, his heart pounding with urgency.

Karin had already composed herself as she dropped to her knees beside the raven-haired man, hands glowing green as she scanned his chakra pathways. 

“Sasuke, bite me,” she ordered, shoving her arm toward his mouth without hesitation. “Your chakra’s a mess and severely depleting. My reserves will stabilise you.”

Sasuke hesitated, his jaw tightening, but Karin’s glare brooked no argument. 

“Now,” she snapped, her tone thick with worry.

Sasuke relented, his teeth sinking into her arm, a faint wince crossing his face as her chakra flowed into him. Karin gritted her teeth, her free hand steady as she continued her diagnostic jutsu, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Moments later, the sound of rapid footsteps heralded Tsunade, Sakura, and Kakashi’s arrival, their faces grim as they took in the scene. Sakura knelt beside Karin, her hands glowing as she reinforced the healing efforts. 

Tsunade snapped into her medic role immediately. Her sharp eyes assessed Sasuke’s phasing form, her voice calm and commanding despite the tension. 

“Suigetsu, maintain that hold until we stabilise his core. Sakura, Karin, you two focus on his chakra pathways and keep the flow steady. We can’t let him slip further.” 

Sakura nodded, her hands glowing brighter as she poured chakra into Sasuke, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Karin winced slightly as the fresh bite throbbed on her arm, but her face still set in grim determination when she adjusted her position, her green glow intensifying as she funneled more of her reserves into him. 

Suigetsu’s liquid tendrils pulsed, tightening around Sasuke’s flickering form, the water-like sheen glinting under the light.

Naruto stood frozen, his fists clenched, his gaze locked on Sasuke’s translucent figure. The air crackled with unnatural energy, prickling his skin like static, as if reality itself was unravelling. 

Sasuke’s eyes fluttered, his breath shallow, and then without warning, his head lolled to the side, his body going limp as he passed out.

“Sasuke!” Naruto lurched forward, but Tsunade’s sharp tone stopped him.

“Stay back, Naruto! Let them work!” She barked, her gaze flickered toward him only a moment before her focus was back on the patient. “He’s still phasing. We need to anchor him before we move.”

“His chakra’s stabilising, but it’s slow,” Karin’s voice was strained but calm, her eyes fixed on Sasuke. “Suigetsu, don’t let go yet.”

“Wasn’t planning to.” 

The swordsman muttered, his jaw tight, his liquid form rippling with effort as he held Sasuke’s unconscious body in place. Juugo stepped closer, his gaze never leaving the raven-haired man’s face, his massive frame poised to act.

Tsunade’s gaze flicked to Juugo. “Once his form stops flickering, you’ll carry him to your residence. Suigetsu, you stay in liquid form until we’re sure he’s stable and solid.”

Juugo nodded, his deep voice steady. “Understood.”

Minutes stretched like hours, the team’s combined efforts filling the clearing with a soft green glow. Sasuke’s skin, once shimmering and translucent, began to regain opacity, the edges of his body no longer wavering like a mirage. His chest rose and fell more steadily, though he remained unconscious, his face pale and drawn.

“He’s stabilising,” finally, Sakura announced, her voice laced with relief but still tense and alert, beads of sweat clinging to her forehead and temples. “The phasing’s almost stopped.”

Tsunade nodded, her expression grim. “Good. Juugo, now.”

Suigetsu, still in his liquid state, carefully adjusted his hold, allowing Juugo to slide his arms under Sasuke’s limp form. With a gentleness contradicting his size, the orange-haired man lifted Sasuke up, cradling him against his chest. Suigetsu’s watery tendrils remained wrapped around Sasuke’s torso, maintaining their anchor as Juugo also supported his liquid form, carrying both toward their residence. 

The group moved swiftly, Naruto trailing close behind, his heart still pounding with worry.

.

Once arrived at their house, Juugo laid Sasuke on his bed, Suigetsu’s liquefied tendrils still in place. Karin and Sakura sat on each side of the bed, their hands glowing as they monitored his condition. 

Only when Sasuke’s skin looked fully solid, no longer flickering out of existence, did Suigetsu release his hold, his form rippling back into a human shape. He staggered slightly, catching himself against the wall, his face pale from the strain.

“He’s stable for now,” Karin said, her voice soft but firm. Her fingers were trembling slightly as she adjusted her glasses after checking Sasuke’s pulse. “But he’s not waking up yet. We’ll stay and keep watch.”

Sakura nodded, her green eyes serious as she wiped away the sweat. “I’ll monitor his chakra levels. He’s not out of the woods.”

Tsunade nodded at them before turning to the others, her expression hard. “Kakashi, Naruto, with me. Suigetsu, Juugo, you’re coming too. We need answers about what caused this.”

The group stepped outside, leaving Karin and Sakura to tend to Sasuke. In the quiet living room, Tsunade’s gaze pinned Suigetsu and Juugo, her voice sharp and commanding. 

“Start talking. What’s happening to Sasuke?”

The two Taka members exchanged an uneasy look before the orange-haired man sighed, his deep voice coloured with concern and wariness. 

“It’s his Rinnegan,” he said slowly, his orange eyes meeting Tsunade’s. “When he overuses it, pushing it past his limits, the fabric of reality starts to unravel around him. Sasuke explains the sensation as slipping through and between dimensions, not fully here or there. His body can’t anchor itself in one place during moments like that.”

Naruto’s blood ran cold, his mind reeling. “Slipping between dimensions?” He echoed, disbelief and worry overflowing in his voice. “How do we fix it?”

Suigetsu leaned against a tree for support, running a hand through his matted white hair, his usual smirk absent. 

“We don’t know, actually,” he admitted, his voice strained. “It’s happened before, though never this bad, and Sasuke doesn’t like talking about it. Usually, rest pulls him back, but this…” He trailed off, his sharp teeth biting his lip, a rare crack in his bravado.

“He’s been pushing himself too hard, and I let it happen,” Kakashi’s single eye narrowed, his tone heavy with guilt. “The rifts, the missions, the teleportation—it’s taxing his Rinnegan beyond what his body can handle. It’s my fault when I thought Sasuke’d know where to stop.”

Naruto’s fists shook, knuckles white, a storm of anger mixed with fear raging in his chest, threatening to choke him. 

“Why didn’t he say anything?” He shouted, his voice cracking, raw with desperation. “He’s always like this, keeps acting like he’s untouchable, like he doesn’t need us! Does he trust none of us?”

His blue eyes burned, glistening with unshed tears, searching others’ faces for answers, for something to quell the excruciating ache clawing at his heart and tearing it apart.

Juugo’s gaze softened with quiet sorrow, his voice steady but heavy as he sighed before replying. “It’s not about trust, Naruto. It’s just who Sasuke is. He shoulders the burden alone because he thinks he must, not because he doubts us.” 

His words were gentle but they cut deep, exposing the bitter truth that the blond didn’t want to face. Naruto gritted his teeth before taking in a deep inhale, but such a small, trivial action wasn’t enough to calm his racing heart. 

Suigetsu spoke up as he leaned against the wall, his face pale from exertion while his voice stripped of its usual mockery, low and grave as if he just aged ten years in an instant.

“Sasuke trusts us more than you think, blondie. Enough to let himself fall apart like this, even unwillingly, it’s more than he’d ever show if he didn’t have faith in us.” His violet eyes darted away, a rare flicker of pain crossing his sharp features. “You don’t wanna know how far he’d go to hide this kinda weakness otherwise.” 

Naruto didn’t want to know that, really. He had a feeling that if he ever ended up in the category of people that Sasuke couldn’t feel safe around to be vulnerable, it would break his heart into thousands of pieces.

“What a stubborn brat,” Tsunade’s jaw clenched, her amber eyes blazing with frustration. “We’ll need to study this to learn more about dimensional rifts and his Rinnegan’s limits. No more missions until we know how to prevent this from happening again. Sasuke’s not slipping away on my watch.” 

Her words were fierce but her hands trembled slightly, betraying the unspoken worry beneath her resolve.

Naruto’s throat tightened, his eyes burning as he glanced in the direction of Sasuke’s room, where he lay unconscious, fragile in a way that shattered his heart. 

“He’ll pull through, right?” The blond whispered, his voice breaking, a raw plea that hung in the air. “He has to.” 

His eyes stung, tears threatening to spill, his chest aching with the terror of losing the one person he cared about the most in this world, the only one he’d fought so hard to bring back and would never hesitate to do that all over again if needed to.

Kakashi’s hand gripped Naruto’s shoulder, firm and grounding, his visible eye soft with unwavering certainty. 

“He will, Naruto,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. “Sasuke’s always been a fighter. But he’ll need us to keep him grounded.”

Naruto’s jaw clenched, his tears held back by sheer will as his resolve solidified, a fire igniting in his chest. 

“I’m done letting him play the lone wolf,” he vowed, his voice low and fierce, trembling with conviction. “Not after this. Never again.”

…

Chapter Text

11, Compunctious.

Compunctious (adj.) feeling remorse or regret;
characterised by guilt or moral scruple that prevents or follows the doing of something bad.

…

None of them felt like eating despite it being time for dinner, and Tsunade basically had to kick them out of the house with a threat that unless they found something to eat, they’d not be allowed to set their foot back in here. 

Begrudgingly, Naruto let Kakashi lead him and the two Taka members to his favourite ramen shop, Ichiraku. Never had a day the blond’d think that even Ichiraku’s great creation couldn’t cheer him up—the ramen tasted probably the same as ever, but in Naruto’s mouth, the noodles were just something to chew and swallow while the broth was warm enough to drink without burning his tongue, and those were all the sensations he could feel while slurping away his bowl. Naruto was glad that at least things didn’t taste like carton boards and sand as he had to force himself to stomach the food.

It appeared that the others probably thought the same since none of them said anything during the meal, except for a few tense, clipped sentences when necessary. Even Suigetsu wasn’t in the mood to joke around, and that said a lot. 

They finished dinner around the same time before rushing back to team Taka’s house. Their footsteps only slowed down when met with Tsunade’s stern gaze as she stood in front of the house with arms crossed. She assessed each of them with a scrutinising gaze before giving them a curt nod, allowing them to step inside.

“Sakura, Karin, you two go rest and get something to eat,” Tsunade came up to Sasuke’s room, her voice could still be heard faintly through the corridor. Before either of the girls could protest, she shook her head, her tone was firm and commanding. “No buts. You two look like you’ll both collapse before midnight, and I won’t have that. The first rule of being a good medic-nin is knowing how to take care of oneself to ensure you’re able to give your patients the best treatment possible.”

Karin and Sakura exchanged a look before nodding and shuffling to get up. Tsunade gave them a small, reassuring smile as their lingering gazes fell on Sasuke’s still unconscious form. “I’ll keep on monitoring him, so don’t worry.”

.

The girls updated Sasuke’s condition to the group as they passed through the living room, though there wasn’t much to say: no improvement but no worsening either, just the quiet pulse of his vitals, steady but distant. 

Juugo suggested that he’d go buy something for their dinner and bring them back here, but Sakura declined and said she wanted some fresh air. Karin decided to follow suit, their footsteps echoing softly down the hall as the door clicked shut behind them. 

After they went out, the living room once more came back to its previous state of a stifling, uncomfortable quietness.

“It’s my fault,” Naruto said at last, his voice low and strained. He buried his fingers into his hair, elbows resting on his knees. “If I hadn’t messed with Sasuke’s focus while he was using his Rinnegan… we wouldn’t have been stranded so far away. He wouldn’t have had to waste energy tracking us down.”

“Never thought I’d say this,” Suigetsu muttered from where he slouched on the arm of the couch, “but I won’t let you shoulder it all this time, blondie.” He sounded tired, unusually so. “If I hadn’t tagged along treating the mission like a goddamn joyride, things might’ve not gone wrong like that.”

“By that logic,” Kakashi added, his eye crinkling faintly beneath the lazy curve of his eyebrow. “This all started with me. I’m the one who assigned Sasuke to that mission. If there’s a blame pizza, I should be the one taking the biggest slice.”

Naruto exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “I’m glad you’re listening to my dramatic… petition before, but I can’t blame you, sensei. Dimensional rifts are exactly the kind of mess only the Rinnegan can handle. Of course you’d send him.”

“Oh, perfect,” Suigetsu huffed, dragging a hand through his unkempt hair. “One time I try to be less of an asshole and suddenly it’s group therapy hour where everyone wants to take responsibilities.” His violet eyes flickered toward the orange-haired man. “What do you say, Juugo? Do you wanna join the ‘lemme take the blame’ game, too?”

Juugo gaved him a long, exasperated look. “Don’t take your frustration out on me just because it’s convenient. But now when you say that, if only I had paid more attention to Sasuke’s health—”

“For fuck’s sake, that wasn’t an invitation,” the white-haired swordsman cut his teammate off with a scoff. “As if Sasuke ever lets us fuss over him too much. It had taken him weeks to admit that he might need a rest while travelling with us back then, and that hardly ever changes till now, so what do we even expect.”

“Don’t you dare shift the blame on Sasuke,” Naruto’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “He’s not the one at fault for pushing himself too hard.”

“Stop taking everything I said as a provocation,” Suigetsu glared back at him with equal heat. “What’s your fucking problem with me, blondie? I get that you dislike me being close to Sasuke, but so are Juugo and Karin, so why focus that hatred solely on me? If we’re playing the confession game, it’s also a good time to be honest about our feelings.”

Naruto’s face flushed red, not from guilt this time but from rising fury. His fists clenched at his sides.

“Oh, I’ll be honest, alright,” he snapped. “You always talk like you’re the only one who gets him, but you don’t. You don’t know half the things he’s been through—”

“And you do?” Suigetsu barked, stepping forward, shoulders squared. “Get off your damn high horse! Just because you’ve known him since you were kids doesn’t mean you’ve earned a lifetime monopoly on his pain.”

Naruto lunged before he could think better of it, grabbing a fistful of Suigetsu’s collar and yanking him forward. “Say that again, bastard.”

Suigetsu didn’t back down. His usual teasing grin was now replaced by a cold, sharp snarl as he shoved Naruto back. 

“Gladly. You’re a pathetic idiot who’s delusional enough to think that the whatever-it-is between you and Sasuke can triump any other bonds he has in his life—”

That was the last straw.

With a shout, Naruto charged forward, chakra already flaring. In a blink, he formed a Rasengan, the orb pulsing and snarling like a living thing in his palm.

Suigetsu’s eyes widened, but he reacted fast. His body shimmered, flickering with moisture, and before the Rasengan could connect, he dissolved halfway into liquid, Naruto’s attack swiping through his chest like it was mist. 

The orb slammed into the wall behind him, blasting out a crater and sending shards of plaster and debris flying.

“You maniac, are you trying to kill me?!” Suigetsu reformed less than two meters back, gripping his now-transparent shoulder. The grin returned to his face, feral and challenging. “Fine. You wanna play rough?”

Without warning, he surged forward, his entire arm transforming into a whip-like tendril of water that lashed toward Naruto’s legs.

Naruto jumped, barely evading it, landing on the back of the couch and rebounding off the wall. 

“Shut the fuck up, you absolutely deranged nutcase!”

They collided midair, Suigetsu’s water-forged blade clashing against Naruto’s chakra-enhanced kunai. A ripple of force shook the living room, knocking over a chair and rattling the picture frames.

“Enough!” Juugo roared, rushing forward in an attempt to get between them. But their chakra flared again as Suigetsu’s liquid body was forming shifting blades while Naruto’s shadow clones were beginning to flicker into being behind him, ready to assist.

The pressure was too much.

Juugo's breath hitched, and then his cursed seal ignited like fire across his skin. His eyes turned wild, distorted with distress, as the seal bloomed out of control.

“Shit!” Kakashi moved in instantly, Sharingan exposed, trying to block a wild backhand from Juugo. “Juugo, calm down! You're losing control!”

Juugo roared, a primal, wordless cry as his mutated arm slammed against the wall and cracked it. Naruto and Suigetsu froze mid-clash, startled, just before they were both knocked apart by the force of Juugo’s chakra flare.

Kakashi struggled to contain the chaos, one of his arms warding off Juugo with a flash of Chidori, the other trying to keep Naruto and Suigetsu from lunging at each other again, but he could feel that his fragile hold of control could break at any given moment.

A massive crack resounded from the ceiling.

“What the hell is going on here?” Tsunade’s voice thundered from above. She landed in the living room with a ground-shaking thud, her amber eyes blazing with irritation.

But before she could bark another word, something else surged into the room—fast, smooth, and cold.

Snakes.

Thick coils of serpentine bodies burst through the cracks in the walls and windows, slithering across the floor and wrapping swiftly around Juugo’s limbs and torso. One coiled protectively around Naruto’s waist, tugging him out of the danger zone. Another pinned Suigetsu’s arms against his sides with terrifying ease.

The cursed seal faded from Juugo’s skin as the snakes constricted gently, grounding him, forcing the monstrous chakra to recede. He blinked rapidly, dazed, as his body slowly reverted to its normal state.

The silence that descended among them was abrupt and eerie as they all stared at the snakes in stunned disbelief.

Those summonings… They could only be Sasuke’s.

But… he was still unconscious. Wasn’t he?

As the snakes retreated, they looked at each other, expressions ranging from incredulity to wariness. Without a word, they scrambled up and rushed back toward the bedroom.

Naruto shoved the door open first. “Sasuke—!”

The room was dim, the curtains drawn. Sasuke lay propped up against the headboard, awake but pale as a sheet, sweat slicking his forehead. Both his eyes glowed faintly, the six-pointed star of his Eternal Mangekyou spinning in frantic whirlwinds, while the Rinnegan pulsating with its eerie violet hue, then flickering with residual energy. Thin rivulets of fresh blood trailed down from both eyes, staining his cheeks.

He looked utterly exhausted.

And worse—he looked like he’d seen everything.

“Sasuke…” Naruto’s voice cracked as guilt and worry came crashing down at him in violent waves, shaking him to his core.

“You idiots,” Sasuke rasped hoarsely, one corner of his mouth twitching into a grim, ironic smirk. “I really can’t leave you guys alone, can I?”

Naruto was at his side in seconds, falling to his knees by the bed with a thud.

“Damn it, Sasuke, why… why would you do that? You’re barely holding on.” 

His hands hovered over the raven-haired man uncertainly, before one finally reached out to clutch Sasuke’s wrist, as if grounding himself there.

The skin beneath his fingers was unnaturally warm to the point that it was burning. Naruto’s grip tightened instinctively as he felt another fever rising fast. Sasuke was pliant under his touch, his posture sagging ever so slightly into Naruto’s side, too weak to hold himself upright. 

It was wrong. The Sasuke he knew would’ve scowled, barked at him to move, or pushed him away in that stiff, prideful way he always did. But now there was nothing, just a faint tremble in his frame and shallow, exhausted breathing.

Naruto pulled him closer without thinking, wrapping one arm around his back and pressing the other hand to his clammy forehead. 

“You’re burning up again,” he choked, worry thickening his voice. “Shit. Don’t—don’t do this to me, Sasuke.”

Suigetsu lingered in the doorway, the fight long drained from his expression. 

“You… you woke up just to do that?” He croaked, remorse softening his usual cocky façade. “To summon the snakes to break our fight?”

Juugo stepped inside slowly, the marks of his cursed seal now faded, but the shame and regret in his eyes was deep and unshakable. “I—I’m sorry. I lost control. I didn’t mean to—” His voice cracked, and he fell quiet.

Sasuke took a shuddering breath, words brittle on his tongue. 

“It’s fine. I couldn’t sleep anyway, with all the yelling.” 

A poor joke, but no one laughed.

Tsunade stormed in next, footsteps like thunder against the floorboards. Her eyes blazed as they landed on Sasuke, but the fury was undercut by a fierce, overwhelming concern. 

“You reckless, self-sacrificing moron,” she snapped, striding to the bedside. “Move, Naruto.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Naruto said stubbornly, voice low but iron-hard.

Tsunade scowled but didn’t argue. She crouched beside them, her fingers already glowing with chakra as she pressed them to Sasuke’s neck and temple. Her mouth set into a grim line. 

“Pulse weak, high fever, chakra nearly depleted empty. You used summoning jutsu in this condition?!” She cleaned the blood on his cheeks with a wet cloth, her gestures gentle despite the harshness in her tone as she groaned, “You’re damn lucky you didn’t rupture a vessel in your brain.”

Sasuke didn’t respond. His eyes had slipped halfway shut, lashes trembling faintly as the crimson shade of the Mangekyou faded from his right eye, leaving behind a black and hollow darkness. But even in this state, the tension in his shoulders was still visible in the way his body subtly drew back from the cluster of attention surrounding his bed.

Kakashi’s visible eye narrowed, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. 

“He’s not comfortable,” he said quietly, gaze sweeping over the room. “Give him space. Sasuke hates being crowded, especially when he’s not at full strength.”

Naruto flinched slightly at that, the words striking harder than he expected. A memory of his conversation with Suigetsu just a day ago surfaced, unbidden and clear.

“Just for your information, Sasuke hides it well, but he has quite an aversion to physical touches, especially sudden ones that aren’t initiated by him.”

“You haven’t noticed that? How he’s always on alert to make sure nobody invades his personal space unless he’s comfortable with it?”

Guilt flared and twisted in Naruto’s chest. Sasuke hadn’t pushed him away, but there was a faint tremor beneath his fingertips, a subtle, involuntary quiver that might’ve gone unnoticed by anyone else. It burrowed deep into Naruto’s mind, gnawing like a worm.

Is he uncomfortable? Is he only letting himself be held because he’s too weak to resist?

Despite the doubts, his arms didn’t loosen. He knew he should move, should give Sasuke the room to breathe, to composure himself. But he couldn’t. Not when Sasuke felt so fragile in his grasp, like a sculpture of fine glass barely held together. The warmth of his feverish skin, the slack weight of his body against Naruto’s chest, it all felt too temporary, too vulnerable. 

As if the second he let go, Sasuke would shatter into pieces.

“Sasuke…” Juugo’s voice floated softly from behind Tsunade, cautious and raw. “You shouldn’t have pushed yourself like that. Not for us.”

“Too late,” came the faint reply, no louder than a sigh. Sasuke’s head lolled slightly, resting fully against Naruto now. Something ugly coiled in the blond’s chest as he knew it wasn’t because of trust but due to exhaustion, but he stayed still as Sasuke slumped further into the hold, his lips barely moved. “… Don’t fight anymore.”

It was the last thing he managed to say before his eyes slipped fully shut again, the dim light within them snuffed out as unconsciousness reclaimed him.

.

.

Karin and Sakura knew something was wrong the moment they stepped through the door.

The air in the house was unnaturally thick and heavy, stifling in a way that went beyond just temperature or silence. It clung to the walls like smoke, like the aftermath of something volatile. Each of the men sat alone, deliberately distant, shoulders tense and eyes carefully averted. None of them even glanced up when the girls entered, which only made agitation rise higher in their stomachs.

And more telling than anything, Tsunade and Naruto were nowhere in sight.

A quiet uneasiness coiled in Karin’s gut like a tightening rope. Beside her, Sakura’s shoulders went rigid.

Without exchanging a word, they rushed upstairs, ignoring the simmering tension on the first floor. Their steps quickened the moment they reached the hallway, feet light but urgent against the wooden floor.

They reached Sasuke’s bedroom door just as it stood barely ajar, and Sakura pushed it open, voice tight with worry.

“Tsunade-sama, how’s—”

The words caught and died on her tongue the moment the door opened.

The room was dim, hushed but full of emotions so raw it hit like a wave. Naruto was on the bed, Sasuke cradled in his arms, held as if he were something delicate and fading. The raven-haired man’s head rested against the blond’s shoulder, his expression slack with unconsciousness, fever-bright skin pale against the soft glow of the moonlight slipping through the curtain’s edges. 

Naruto held him protectively, almost possessively, arms curled around Sasuke’s shoulders and back as though shielding him from the world. His forehead rested gently against Sasuke’s temple, and he hadn’t even looked up at their entrance. There was a quiet desperation to his posture, like letting go would undo something irreparably fragile.

Tsunade was seated at the side of the bed, a hand pressed to Sasuke’s wrist, checking his vitals. Her face was unreadable, though her mouth pressed into a firm line.

She sighed heavily when she noticed the girls.

“Out,” she said gently but firmly, tilting her head toward the door. “Let’s talk outside.”

Karin blinked, visibly shaken. “But—”

“He’s stable. For now.” Tsunade rose and gave one last glance toward Naruto, who still hadn’t moved. Her voice softened. “I’ll explain what happened.”

Once the door clicked shut behind them, the sannin let out a weary sigh.

“Sasuke woke up briefly,” she started, her voice low as her amber eyes darkened to an almost molten bronze shade. “He used summoning jutsu to call for some snakes to stop the fight downstairs between Naruto and Suigetsu. It pushed him past his limit. Again.”

Sakura’s heart dropped, something akin to fear flashed in her green eyes. “Is he—?”

“He’ll live,” Tsunade cut in quickly, but her tone was far from relieved. “But he’s burning through energy faster than he can regenerate. His body’s not keeping up with the strain. If he doesn’t rest—really rest—he’ll crash harder next time. And that might be the last.”

Karin’s fists clenched at her sides, slightly trembling with barely contained distress. “And Naruto?”

Tsunade exhaled again, this time slower. 

“Won’t leave his side. I tried to get him to rest too, but… he’s afraid and desperate. As if the second he lets go, Sasuke will disappear.”

Karin could understand and sympathise with that. If she was in the blond’s place, she probably might refuse to let go, too.

“Did you say…” Sakura inhaled, her voice eerily calm. “Naruto and Suigetsu fought, and that was the reason Sasuke had to use summoning jutsu?”

Something akin to apprehension flashed on Tsunade’s face as she frowned. “Don’t. Not now, Sakura.”

Karin blinked at them in confusion when Sakura’s hands balled into fists, her gaze blazing with fury as it directed toward the ajar door they just left. And then realisation dawned on the redhead as she gritted her teeth and stomped back to the living room.

“I’m so murdering Suigetsu right now.”

“Count me in,” Sakura demanded as she followed suit. Since she’s been warned against unleashing violence on Naruto at this moment, she needed a new target for her fury.

The legendary sannin stopped both of them before they reached the stairs.

“I understand your anger, and it’s justified so I won’t chastise you on that, but we seriously don’t need anymore fighting in this house now.”

“It won’t be a fight,” Sakura’s expression twisted to a dark, murderous scowl as she cracked her knuckles. “I’ll aim for all the vital spots. It’ll be quick and merciful.”

“I’ll help you,” Karin nodded her head enthusiastically, her red eyes glinting with a vicious gleam as the homicidal rage surged within her. 

For a second, Tsunade almost broke into a proud smile and said, “That’s my student.”, but it wasn’t really appreciated to do such a thing, so she coughed softly instead. 

“I don’t doubt that you’re capable of that, but please listen to me this time, if not for those idiots’ sake, then for Sasuke’s, okay?”

This time, her words seemed to reach both the girls as the rage on their expressions slowly softened and vanished, replaced by a begrudging acquiescence. 

“I’ll listen to you, but it’s only for Sasuke-kun’s sake,” Karin sighed, briefly closing her eyes. “Next time, those dumbasses won’t be so lucky.”

Tsunade gave a tight nod. “Fair.”

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of subdued tension. No one raised their voice again. No one left the house either. The silence became a fragile truce they all upheld, bound by guilt, fear, and unspoken apologies. 

Tsunade, after issuing a few final checks on Sasuke and Naruto both, declared the day officially over.

“I don’t care what any of you do,” she said, standing at the top of the stairs, her shadow long and stretched by the hallway light. “But you’re all going to sleep. Eat first, hydrate. Then rest. That’s an order.”

No one dared argue.

The next morning crept in slowly, its sunlight filtering past half-drawn curtains, casting long golden slashes across the floorboards. The air was cooler, quieter, though no less heavy.

Kakashi and Sakura, both summoned by duty, had to return to their work. But they lingered longer than they should’ve in the doorway, eyes flitting constantly toward the hallway that led to Sasuke’s room.

“Keep us updated,” Kakashi said to Juugo before leaving, his voice low. “If there’s any change. Anything.”

“I will,” the larger man nodded solemnly.

Sakura looked like she wanted to turn back a dozen times as they walked down the path from the house. Her steps slowed, her mouth tugged downward with worry. 

“He hasn’t even twitched once in his sleep,” she murmured to Kakashi. “His vitals are stable, and I know it’s not abnormal, but… He’ll wake up, right?”

Kakashi looked at her. After a beat, he sighed, a long, weary sound that made his exhaustion bleed through.

“He will,” the older man nodded, though he wasn’t sure whether he was trying to convince Sakura or himself. “He’s stubborn enough to not die on us just like that.”

A corner of Sakura’s mouth twitched into a ghostly smile. “Yeah, he is.”

…

Chapter Text

12, Eucatastrophe.

Eucatastrophe (n.) a sudden and favourable resolution of events in a story; a happy ending.

…

The next few days stretched like molasses—slow, suffocating, and heavy with the kind of dread that settled deep in the bones.

Naruto had to be physically dragged out of Sasuke’s room more than once. The first time, it was Karin and Juugo who managed it, each taking one of his arms like guards escorting a prisoner.

“You need to eat,” Juugo said firmly, though his voice held quiet sympathy. “And bathe. You’re starting to smell.”

Naruto didn’t laugh. He didn’t even respond. He just stared at Sasuke like he feared the raven-haired man would vanish the moment he turned away.

But eventually, reluctantly, he gave in, though only long enough for a brief shower and a few mouthfuls of food before rushing back with a damp towel still hanging around his neck, droplets of water clinging on his hair and dripping onto his collar.

Karin rolled her eyes before sighing, taking the towel herself to help the blond dry his hair. “Don’t want you to drip on Sasuke,” she mumbled to explain her action, the notion that that particular reason didn’t really matter passed in silence.

By the second day, even Suigetsu tried to coax him out.

“I’ll sit in for you,” the white-haired man offered, scratching at the back of his neck. His gaze seemed to focus on either the top of the blond’s head or somewhere below his chin, actively avoiding looking straight into those blue eyes. The tension between them from the fight before was still there, lingering like an elephant in the room that neither wanted to acknowledge. “You can go nap for, like, an hour. Maybe drool on a pillow that isn’t Sasuke.”

Naruto was quiet for a few seconds until Suigetsu’s glance flickered up, and then the blond shot him A Look sharp enough to flay. The shadows beneath his eyes were darker now, and his sclerae were rimmed red from fatigue. 

“He might wake up anytime.”

“He won’t disappear,” the white-haired swordsman muttered, quieter this time, eyes darting to Sasuke’s motionless form. Something akin to guilt flashed across violet hue. “Not when we’re all still here.”

It didn’t help, not really. Naruto clicked his tongue, still rooted to his place, and refused to move.

But the final push came with a warning glare from Tsunade’s pointed scolding, punctuated by Karin’s tossed-over-shoulder comment, “Seriously, Naruto, get up and take a rest. Sasuke wouldn’t want to wake up and see you like that.”

Somehow, that did it.

It wasn’t resignation so much as grim acknowledegment when Naruto finally rose and left, shoulders slumped, like he feared the door behind him might slam shut on something irretrievable.

Days and nights blended together into a blurry stream of shifting light and muffled voices as they all hovered like shadows in and near the room, never fully intruding but never quite leaving. Each of them took turns watching over Sasuke, sometimes in silence, sometimes with half-hearted small talk in hushed tones just to fill the room with something other than worry.

And then on the fourth morning, just as the early sun began to scatter pale light across the windowpanes, Sasuke stirred.

At first, it was subtle. A shift in the air. A shallow breath drawn in sharper than before. A few fingers twitched faintly against the sheets.

Karin, who’d been slumped sideways in a chair, her head cradled in her arms, jolted upright so fast her glasses nearly slipped off her face.

“Sasuke?” She breathed, voice cracking like it hadn’t been used in hours.

His lashes fluttered. Eyes still shadowed with exhaustion slowly blinked open, hazy and a little unfocused, but unmistakably conscious.

“… Karin?” His voice was barely a whisper, a threadbare thing, rasping and broken.

She clapped a hand to her mouth, a sharp gasp escaping as tears immediately welled in her crimson eyes. “You! You stupid—!”

In a flurry of motion, she was at his side, flinging her arms around his shoulders with the kind of force that would’ve knocked over anyone weaker. Sasuke winced slightly but didn’t pull away. Her face was buried in his neck, her voice muffled but trembling.

“Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” She whispered fiercely, voice distinctly wet.

Juugo was only a second behind her, stepping forward with a warm, relieved smile as he leaned in, gently enclosing them both in a careful embrace that surrounded Sasuke like a quiet shield.

“My goodness, you’re finally awake.”

Sasuke let out a shallow, trembling breath. His limbs were too leaden to return the gesture, but something in his shoulders loosened, the tension unwinding like a coiled thread. His eyes softened as they closed briefly just to feel the weight of the moment; as Karin and Juugo’s warmth bleeding through thin layers of fabric and seeping into his skin, solid and grounding. 

Suigetsu lingered at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, his frown expressing just how uncomfortably sentimental he found the whole affair. But when both the others turned to stare at him expectantly, he groaned, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like curses.

“Fine, whatever,” still, the white-haired man acsquiesced, the words dripping with exaggerated reluctance. Then, with all the grace of a man trudging into emotional quicksand, he leaned in and slung an arm awkwardly around Sasuke’s other shoulder. “But I’m not crying. That’d be a tragic waste of hydration.”

Karin snorted. “You’re impossible.”

Yet even as she said it, her grip around Sasuke’s neck loosened, yanking Suigetsu into the group hug with a force that betrayed her usual sharp-edged demeanour. The gesture was so uncharistically herself, given their typical banter and bickering, that Suigetsu merely clicked his tongue but still had enough tact to swallow back whatever sarcastic retort danced on his tongue. For once, he begrudgingly allowed himself to melt into the embrace.

They stayed like that for a few seconds before Juugo gave Sasuke’s back one last firm pat, then straightened upright, signaling the fragile moment’s end.

“I’ll go tell the others,” he said, already heading for the door, his voice quiet but filled with something akin to relief and joy. “They’ve been waiting for this.”

As the door closed gently behind him, silence settled in the room again, soft and expectant.

Suigetsu lingered at the edge of the bed, now sitting with his arms resting on his knees, gaze darting toward Sasuke before quickly away again. He rubbed the back of his neck, expression uncomfortable.

“Look, I—” He started, then sighed. “I was a dick. I mean, that’s not news, but... still. I crossed a line.”

Sasuke didn’t speak, but he watched him, silent and patient.

“I know you dislike all this drama, and it’s not like I could suddenly turn into a saint overnight,” Suigetsu muttered, violet eyes darting around and looking at anything but Sasuke’s. “But for what it’s worth… I’m willing to make peace. With Naruto. If that’s what you want. Hell, if it keeps you from nearly dying again, I’ll even throw in a fruit basket.”

Karin blinked, clearly stunned that he’d said it first, and even with actual sincerity.

Well, as much sincerity as logically possible for Suigetsu, but still.

Sasuke’s lips curved just slightly. Not quite a smile, but enough to alleviate the tension. “Don’t poison the fruit basket,” he rasped drily.

Suigetsu scoffed. “No promises.”

Just then, footsteps thundered down the hall, too light to be Juugo’s, too familiar to be mistaken for anyone else. 

Suigetsu looked toward the door, then stood up.

“I’ll give you a minute,” he said, already moving aside as the knob began to turn. “Guess we both owe him something.”

Naruto burst in like a storm breaking after days of drought, eyes wide, chest heaving, his whole frame rigid with emotions. His breath caught the moment he saw Sasuke looking at him, dazed but unmistakably awake and alert.

A strangled sound tore from Naruto’s throat as he crossed the room in a blur. He didn’t even try to speak, just dropped to his knees at the bedside and wrapped his arms tightly around Sasuke’s torso.

To everyone’s astonishment, Sasuke didn’t resist. Instead, he let out a quiet, rasping breath, his forehead tipping gently against Naruto’s shoulder. 

“What made you so riled up, usuratonkachi?” He murmured, voice hoarse but threaded with faint teasing. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”

Something inside Naruto just snapped at that.

The blond jerked back just enough to look at Sasuke, his face a storm cloud of fury and relief and something deeper that twisted painfully behind his azure eyes.

“You—” His voice broke, thick with emotion. “Do you even realise what you just said?”

The dark-haired man blinked, slow and confused. “What—?”

“You reckless, self-sacrificing bastard!” Naruto’s voice cracked with rawness as he jabbed a finger against Sasuke’s chest, his hands trembling with barely contained fear and anger. “Do you have any idea how worried everyone was?! How close you were to—” He choked, swallowed, then tried again. “You could’ve died, you jerk! Died without even thinking about what that would do to us! To me!”

Sasuke stared at him, stunned into silence.

“You think just saying ‘I’m alive’ makes it better?” Naruto growled, voice low and shaking now, his overwhelming surge of emotions threatening to spill all over at any given second. “You almost weren’t. And you didn’t even care. You never—”

His voice broke again, abruptly halted the sentence. He turned away for a moment, breath heaving, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

“…You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered, voice now dropped to a barely audible whisper, trembling with distress. “You always do.”

Sasuke opened his mouth, then wordlessly closed it.

There was nothing he could say. Nothing that would measure up.

So instead, quietly, he reached out and rested his hand over Naruto’s clenched one. Weak, but deliberate. A silent apology. A silent thank-you.

Naruto looked down at it. And after a long, trembling pause, he exhaled.

Then, slowly, he sank back into the crook of Sasuke’s shoulder. Still holding on. Still there.

“… Just don’t do it again, I’m begging you,” he mumbled into the fabric of Sasuke’s shirt, voice thick with unshed tears. “I don’t care how noble your reason is. Next time, we will do it together. Or not at all.”

Sasuke’s hand curled slightly over Naruto’s.

“… Okay.” 

He murmured softly. And this time, it sounded like he meant it.

There was a beat of silence before Suigetsu flopped down at the foot of the bed, arms crossed loosely. His smirk was faint and softer than usual. 

“Hate to break this emotional moment, but you’re in serious need of a bath, Sas,” he said conversationally. “You look and smell like shit.”

Sasuke’s mouth tugged upward, just barely. “You’re not exactly radiant yourself.”

Naruto sniffed quietly, and then frowned. “He doesn’t smell bad at all,” he said, a little bit more defensive than it should be as if he’d taken Suigetsu’s comment as a personal attack. “What are you talking about?”

The white-haired swordsman blinked slowly. Then, in a tone laced with both amusement and suspicion, he mused. “... Okay, I didn’t realise Sasuke’s sweat was your preferred cologne.”

Naruto nearly choked. “Wha—No! I’m just saying—”

Karin snorted loudly, dabbing at the corner of one eye with the edge of her sleeve. “Seriously? Flirting with Sasuke right after he just woke up from a near-death coma? That’s your move now?”

“I’m not flirting!” Naruto hissed, ears flaming red. “I’m just—”

“Deeply invested in his scent,” Suigetsu added helpfully.

“Shut up!” Naruto yelped, looking one minor stroke away from combusting.

Before the conversation could spiral any further into public embarrassment, multiple footsteps echoed in the hall, accompanied by the muffled sound of voices which mercifully saved the blond’s tattered dignity.

The door swung open a heartbeat later. Tsunade strode in, with Sakura just a step behind her, and Kakashi bringing up the rear a tad more hurried than his usual gait, face half-hidden behind his ever-present mask and Icha-Icha Paradise book (which was, mercifully, closed for now.)

Sakura’s breath caught the moment her eyes landed on Sasuke.

“... Sasuke-kun,” she whispered, barely more than a breath before she rushed forward, slowing only at the edge of the bed as though afraid the image would vanish if she moved too fast. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides. “You’re really awake…”

He turned his head to her, his gaze tired but steady. “Hey.”

And just like that, Sakura broke into tears. Not loudly, but in a quiet, cathartic sob as she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, her forehead resting against his shoulder. Naruto shifted aside just enough to give her room, his hand never leaving Sasuke’s.

“You scared me,” she muttered, voice thick. “You scared all of us.”

“I know,” Sasuke murmured. “Sorry about that.”

Behind them, Tsunade crossed her arms, her sharp gaze sweeping over Sasuke with a healer’s practiced precision. 

“You look like hell,” she said bluntly, echoing Suigetsu’s earlier remark. “You’re banned from using the Sharingan or Rinnegan until I personally clear you. Got that, Uchiha?”

“It’s not like I have much chakra in reserve right now…” Sasuke muttered before catching the edge of her glare. He blinked, swallowing lightly. “Yes, Tsunade-sama. I understand.”

Her expression softened, the hard edge in her voice easing. “Still… you’re alive. That’s more than I expected when I first saw what shape you were in.”

“That makes two of us,” Kakashi added mildly, stepping further into the room. His visible eye crinkled slightly at the corner as he gave Sasuke a long look. “Glad you’re still too stubborn to die.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Sasuke said hoarsely. “You taught me most of it.”

That earned a soft chuckle from Kakashi, who moved to stand beside the bed. “Touché.”

Tsunade, meanwhile, had already stepped forward and was placing cool, glowing hands briefly on Sasuke’s forehead, then checking his pulse with professional efficiency. 

“You’re not out of the woods yet,” she warned. “You’ll need another round of proper chakra stabilisation, and possibly a blood infusion depending on how your levels recover.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Naruto said immediately, one hand tightening slightly on Sasuke’s. “We’ll make sure of it.”

Sakura nodded in firm agreement, her tears drying quickly into resolve. “I’ll help. Whatever it takes.”

A beat passed, thick with exhaustion, relief, and something unspoken, before Suigetsu’s voice cut in again.

“Well, now that the grown-ups are here, I guess I’ll make myself scarce before Tsunade-sama kicks me out.”

“Smart boy,” Tsunade said drily, not bothering to look up.

Clearing his throat, the white-haired swordsman rose to his feet with a theatrical sigh.

“Well, since our resident self-sacrificing bastard has decided to stop scaring the crap out of everyone,” he drawled, glancing at Sasuke with a smirk that didn’t quite mask the tension rolling off his shoulders. “I guess I’ll go run a bath before your hair mats permanently. You look like a damn drowned corpse.”

“Geez, thanks,” Sasuke rasped drily.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find the best soap possible,” Suigetsu added, already heading for the door with a lazy wave. “And if you pass out halfway in, I’m not fishing you out. Blondie can do it.”

Naruto rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly upward.

Once Suigetsu disappeared down the hallway, Karin stood and stretched, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“Alright, if you’re bathing, someone better make food before you keel over again.”

Sakura straightened with a determined nod. “I’ll help. Sasuke needs something warm and soft. Porridge, maybe. Nothing heavy yet.”

“Got it. I’ll handle the seasoning, he dislikes bland food,” Karin muttered, already walking toward the door. “Naruto, make sure he doesn’t try standing on his own.”

Naruto just gave a sharp nod, still seated beside Sasuke, fingers loosely entwined with his.

“Yeah. I’ve got him.”

Karin gave Sasuke one last, long look—half glaring and half relieved—then followed Sakura out with quiet footsteps, their voices already fading down the corridor in a blur of what ingredients to use and bickering over spice levels.

The room grew still again, quiet in a different way now. The storm had passed.

Sasuke leaned back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment, breathing deeper.

“… It’s loud,” he mumbled.

Naruto let out a soft laugh, chest finally starting to unclench. “Yeah. But you miss it.”

A pause. Then Sasuke’s fingers curled just slightly tighter around the blond’s as a ghostly smile graced his lips. “Maybe.”

And this time, Naruto didn’t snap or cry again, but he stayed right there, as the faint sounds of water running and clicking utensils filled the house with the quiet promise of a new beginning.

…

Chapter Text

13, Pray tell, since when has this place turned into a goddamn zoo?

…

Sasuke was put under activity restriction and confined to his house for an undetermined period at Tsunade’s orders. Normally, he would’ve protested such a command with all he’s got, but the severity of the incident that led to it made the raven-haired man swallow back down the objection on the tip of his tongue and acquiesce.

Only a week and a half had passed since then when Kakashi decided to assign Naruto to a long-term diplomatic mission… before the blond somehow became the fifth unofficial resident in team Taka’s household.

“But why me?” Naruto protested, arms crossed tightly, a corner of his mouth tugged downward into a displeased frown. “I’m not cut out for this stuck-up formal nonsense! Don’t you have someone with, like, actual manners?”

“Shikamaru’s already tied up with the Land of Lightning,” Kakashi replied calmly, his gaze not leaving the other’s face to focus on his expression. “And Sai’s about as charismatic as a brick wall. You, on the other hand, can actually make people like you.”

Naruto scowled. “I don’t like this kind of bureaucratic bullshit.”

Kakashi snorted at that. “You know you’ll be dealing with even more of this bureaucratic bullshit when you’re Hokage, right?”

That made Naruto silent. His shoulders stiffened as his gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of his dream pressed against his chest. 

The white-haired man observed him for a moment before sighing, “Trust me when I say playing diplomat will benefit your future career as Hokage,” he reasoned. “You need alliances, Naruto, and now’s the best time to start making them.”

“Gaara’s already my friend!” Naruto shot back, his voice edged with indignation, though his fingers fidgeted at his sides.

“The Kazekage might be, but the rest of his council? They’re not exactly thrilled for another Jinchuriki-turned-leader,” Kakashi shook his head, his tone becoming more serious as he went on. “Especially when you’re planning on keeping Sasuke by your side. Have you forgotten what happened at that Kage Summit and afterward?”

Naruto’s expression instantly shifted, his eyebrows knitting with unease. The memory was still raw and vivid despite the time that had passed: The previous Kage Summit when Sasuke, who was branded a rogue shinobi at that time, infiltrated the meeting in a storm of vengeance. He had fought the Raikage, killed Danzo, left scorched walls and destroyed surroundings in his path. Naruto had spent the aftermath frantically trying to convince the world that Sasuke was not beyond redemption.

Back then, no one had believed him.

They’ve gone a long way till now, but there were still many steps to take till the world could see Sasuke under the same light Naruto did.

The blond’s jaw clenched, his voice low but fierce. “That was a long time ago. His crimes had already been forgiven!”

Not to mention that Sasuke had fought alongside them and offered immense help in saving the world against Kaguya. Have people already forgotten that part? Was Naruto the only one who remembered that such heroic actions surely outweighed the crimes they pinned on him?

“Not that long, not by everyone. And it’s not just about what Sasuke had done, Naruto,” the copy-nin shook his head, fingers lightly pressed on his covered eye. “It’s about who he is and what his bloodline carries. The Sharingan will always be viewed as both a treasure and a threat, no matter who wields it. And Sasuke doesn’t just have some regular Sharingan, he has the Eternal Mangekyou, which can perform even more terrifying feasts, not to mention a Rinnegan to top it off. There are three Great Dojutsu and he has two of them, so can you really blame people for being wary of his powers?”

Naruto’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like how reasonable Kakashi sounded, but even so, there was a flicker of reluctant pride swelling in his chest at how highly their teacher spoke of Sasuke’s abilities.

Still, he muttered in defiance, “Sasuke’s not just his eyes, you know.”

Kakashi huffed, clearly amused. “Aren’t you just fishing for compliments that are not even for you now?”

Naruto scowled, but the older man continued without waiting for a response.

“Alright then, let’s go further since you seem to want me to say it out loud. Even without dojutsu, Sasuke’s still a genius with chakra control, an elite in hand-to-hand combat, and a tactical strategist who could give most shinobi a run for their money. He’s mastered high-level ninjutsu, kenjutsu, genjutsu—you name it. Those eyes only add more to an already terrifying arsenal of battle prowess. How will you ensure that we can always keep such devastating powers under control, then?”

“I’m not controlling him,” Naruto said firmly, hands clenching into fists. “I know Sasuke. I understand him and trust him with my life. I’m not afraid of what he can do.”

“That’s fine between the two of you,” Kakashi agreed, though his gaze didn’t soften. “But it isn’t enough to convince other villages. To them, Sasuke is still a volatile mix of destructive strength and unpredictability.”

Naruto grit his teeth, frustration simmering beneath the surface. But before he could say anything, Kakashi’s voice dipped lower, taking on a chill that sliced through the quiet air between them.

“You’re still thinking too simply, Naruto. You focus so much on shielding Sasuke from judgement that you’ve never stopped to notice how others look at him, have you? Not just with fear and wariness, but with want and desire.” Kakashi’s tone was measured as he leaned forward, but beneath it lay a steely weight. “You think they only see powers? No. Some do. But others… They see the last of a noble clan. A name steeped in legacy. The final heir to a bloodline that once stood on par with gods.”

Naruto froze, eyes widening. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The words struck harder than expected, and the older man didn’t stop there.

“They see potential, yes, of powers and unique kekkei genkai. But more than that…” Kakashi’s visible eye darkened as some distant memories flickered through his mind. “You haven’t seen the way some shinobi, lords, or even foreign emissaries look at Sasuke like he’s a rare artifact. Something beautiful and valuable.”

Naruto stiffened even more as his breath caught in his throat. He disliked the way his former teacher laid things out like that, speaking as if Sasuke was an object rather than a person, but deep down, he could see why and understand his point. Sasuke has always been a treasured existence in his heart, but the thought that now others could also see how precious he was but in an uglier, darker, more twisted way—

“Sasuke’s not just a wielder of dangerous jutsu, he’s also a symbol, Naruto. The last Uchiha isn’t an empty title. That legacy, paired with power, paired with—” Kakashi paused briefly, his gaze unreadable. “—an otherworldly kind of presence… You don’t think there are those who might want to own that? To control it? Even keep it for themselves?”

A dark, twisting pulse writhed through Naruto’s chest. The words weren’t just a warning, they were a possibility—one he hadn’t let himself imagine before, not fully. But now that the thought was there, it planted itself like a seed of dread deep inside his heart.

Was it jealousy or fear that burned just behind his ribs? Possessiveness? Or something deeper and far more visceral?

“I—” The blond croaked, his mouth uncomfortably dry. “I haven’t thought about that…”

“I know,” the Sixth Hokage nodded solemnly. “That’s why I said you need allies, Naruto. Not just to defend Sasuke, but to keep him safe. Trusted friends who will stand on your side should another village decide they want that power for themselves. Because like it or not, there are people who would love nothing more than to make Sasuke their own.”

Naruto’s hands curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms. Kakashi’s words echoed in his mind, stirring up a confusing mix of emotions that he couldn’t name them all.

“I won’t let anyone take him away from me,” he declared, azure eyes blazing with newfound determination. “Never again.”

“That’s one more reason for you to learn about diplomatic affairs,” Kakashi concluded, his gaze focusing on Naruto, stern but not unkind. “You’re still too idealistic, too naïve. That’s not a flaw for a hero, but it is a weakness in a leader. If you want the position of Hokage, you need to develop the patience, the foresight, and the political intelligence that are necessary for it. Not just blind conviction.”

Naruto lowered his eyes, stubbornness still flickering behind them, but it was tempered now with something else. A quiet, gnawing awareness that Kakashi wasn’t wrong.

“… Fine,” he muttered, and then louder. “I’ll do it. But I’m not gonna pretend Sasuke’s a liability. If they can’t accept him, they’ll just have to deal with me too.”

Kakashi sighed and smiled faintly behind his mask. “Well, that’s diplomacy in your own way. As long as you’re not being too blunt about it, I guess we can’t help it.”

◦•≫ ⊱ ❈ ⊰ ≪•◦

⊱ ❈ ⊰

❈

“I didn’t realise how badly I’ve missed my village till now.” 

Naruto breathed out as the sight of the Fire village’s gate appeared in their field of vision. His steps quickened as if all the fatigue from the long travel just vanished in an instant, a newly recovered vitality pumping in his veins to fuel his speed so that he could reach the gate quicker.

Next to him, Gaara only let out a wry chuckle, “Is that really Konoha that you’ve missed that dearly?”

The blond flashed him a bright smile, if not somewhat sheepish. “Among other things.”

“You’ll still have to report back to the Hokage first, you know,” the redhead reminded pointedly, clearly sensing how Naruto’s pace was veering off in another direction. “Even if my visit to Konoha isn’t an official one, it’s expected that you attend any diplomatic functions I’m involved in, like tonight’s dinner, for instance.”

Naruto’s pace slowed a bit as he groaned. 

“Can you not be the Kazekage for five minutes and just be Gaara, my friend? Preferably a Gaara who won’t make me sit through another dinner with formal table settings and people pretending they don’t want to poison each other?”

“You’re exaggerating,” Gaara deadpanned, though there was a flicker of amusement in his pale green eyes.

“Barely,” Naruto grumbled. “This whole mission drained my soul. Politics sucks. Long missions suck.” He turned toward the redhead with genuine fondness softening his features. “Don’t get me wrong, you made it a hell of a lot more bearable, and I’m glad for that. But still. Everything else sucked.”

“Has your vocabulary truly been shrunk to just ‘suck’ to describe anything unpleasant?” Gaara replied drily, his tone laced with teasing.

The blond had the decency to grin. “What can I say? I’ve been diplomatic for three whole weeks, now I’m out of big words.” Then, after a beat, his tone grew more earnest. “I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll report in, do whatever mission-related stuff I need to for today: attend the dinner, smile, nod, maybe not punch anyone... but I’m going to see Sasuke first thing tomorrow morning. You can come with me, or if you don’t want to, I’ll go alone.”

Gaara glanced at him sidelong, a corner of his mouth curving slightly in amusement. “I wouldn’t dream of standing between you and your true priority.”

“Shut up,” Naruto muttered, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

Instead of a reply, the redhead only nodded with quiet understanding. After nearly a month apart, there was nothing—not diplomacy, not duties, not even Gaara himself—that could keep Naruto from heading straight to Sasuke the first second that option was made possible.

And so he agreed.

.

.

The next day was a sunny Saturday morning. When Gaara walked out of his guest room after a series of rapid knocking, he was greeted with the sight of Naruto’s bright grin, which could rival the sun itself.

“Good morning, Gaara!”

“You did not just wake up even before the asscrack of dawn to drag me along to Sasuke’s place,” Gaara blinked owlishly at him, then deadpanned. 

The redhead hadn’t been raised to be a polite person during his early childhood, but being Kazekage from a young age had taught him a lot about how powerful words could be; therefore, one should always choose their words wisely. But in a situation like this, when in front of him wasn’t any cunning old man who would love nothing more than taking advantage of an inexperienced leader, but just his loud, fiercely loyal friend from Konoha, Gaara allowed himself to revert back to his truer self and speak his mind without a filter.

“I totally did,” the blond proudly said, puffing his chest out. “I’ll even treat you to the greatest ramen in this village for breakfast before we go to Sasuke!”

Gaara chuckled at that. If there’s anything Naruto had missed second only to Sasuke during his diplomatic mission, then it’d be Ichiraku’s ramen. And the action of offering to treat him only further proved that Naruto considered him one of the few close friends that he’d be willing to share his favourite things with. The thought made something warm bubble inside Gaara’s chest, chasing away his drowsy irritation at the somewhat rude and way too early wake-up call.

“Alright, you lead the way.”

.

Naruto’s always been a fast eater, but Gaara hadn’t seen him inhale anything with lightning speed like what he did with two bowls of ramen like this before. He wasn’t even sure what was the biggest explanation for that: his hunger, Ichiraku’s ramen being his favourite food, or the prospect of seeing Sasuke after breakfast looming over him like a tantalising motivation. 

“Are you done?” 

Naruto slurped the last thread of noodle from his portion before turning toward Gaara with a satisfied burp. He eyed the half-finished bowl with a gaze that made the redhead think he was almost about to suggest that he’d eat the rest for him so they could be done with breakfast faster.

“Give me five more minutes,” Gaara said before taking another mouthful of noodles. They were still hot, and he nearly burnt his tongue. Naruto’s mouth clearly wasn’t made from mere mortal cells. The redhead grabbed the cool tea and took a long swig before sighing, “Actually, make it ten.”

Naruto nodded and then proceeded to order another bowl of ramen. 

.

When they came to team Taka’s house, Naruto pushed the front door open with the familiarity of someone who was more likely to live there occasionally than just a mere visitor. Gaara frowned at that.

“Shouldn’t we knock first?”

“Nah, Karin could sense others’ charka with frightening accuracy, so they probably already know that I’m coming,” Naruto shrugged casually. “Besides, the door’s always unlocked when someone’s home.” 

Gaara gave a faint nod and quietly closed the door behind them. He stopped to remove his shoes while Naruto had already stepped a few paces inside, only to nearly trip over a tabby cat sprawled dramatically across the sun-warmed floor like it owned the house. 

The cat flicked its tail once, then fixed him with a contemptuous glare that said watch it, peasant. Naruto glared back instinctively and let out a low growl in response, which was something Kurama would absolutely take credit (read: blame) for later.

As if on cue, two hawks swooped over their heads, feathers cutting the air with startling sharpness. Their wings missed the blond’s head only by a whisper, and he ducked just in time to watch, bewildered, as the birds landed on a gnarled branch jutting out of what looked suspiciously like a bonsai tree jammed into a rice sack in the corner. The whole thing had been haphazardly tied to a wooden stand with duct tape and barbed wire. Definitely not there the last time he visited.

Naruto blinked. “What the hell…?”

“This house has quite a peculiar interior.” 

Gaara calmly stated his observation, sidestepping yet another cat. This one was black, one-eyed, and was wearing what looked like a makeshift red collar fashioned from an old Akatsuki cloak. 

The redhead’s gaze lingered on the feline, and for a moment, he looked like he was contemplating kneeling down to pet it. But the cat sneezed and hissed in his general direction, as if offended by the mere consideration.

“And a peculiar aura,” Gaara added flatly.

Naruto looked around, catching sight of an aquarium tank standing in place of what used to be a TV, empty of water but filled with moss and rocks. After some squinting, he finally noticed something that seemed to be… glowing beetles (?) 

A wooden perch hung by ropes from the ceiling, and there were scratches along the doorframe that hadn’t been there last time either. A half-shredded scroll lay on the ground in a corner, bearing some clear chewing and gnawing marks.

“There are so many new decorations…” Naruto murmured, shaking his head faintly. “I don’t get what’s going on here.”

“When shall we announce our visit?” Gaara asked, his voice was still level but his eyes were subtly tracking the slow crawl of a thin, long tail disappearing behind a bookshelf.

Naruto was thinking about that too. It was weird that Karin hadn’t yelled at them yet. Normally when she’s at home, her voice would greet him even before he reached the front door.

“I’m not sure…” 

The blond mumbled, but whatever he was about to say died on his throat as they arrived at the living room and met an even more bizarre scenario. 

The door to the garden was wide open, and Suigetsu stretched in another sun spot on the engawa like an abnormally large and weird house cat, with a few kittens sprawling around him, their coats varied from creamy white to calico patterns. A bigger feline—probably the momma cat—was licking her fur nearby, seeming content with leaving her kids around that sharp-toothed man. For a fleeting moment, Naruto thought her human-judging skills were too off for a cat.

In the middle of the room, the foldable table that was usually there now was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a bunch of snakes coiling around lazily as if they were harmless house pets and not dangerous predators. Juugo was feeding one of them with something that looked suspiciously like eggs, while two birds perched on the top of his head. Naruto secretly prayed that those eggs the snake was eating weren’t theirs.

Karin, finally being the one hogging the kotatsu for once, was cuddling with something underneath the blanket, her expression one of pure bliss. The animal’s ears twitched next to her nose, and it took Naruto five seconds of squinting to finally realise that those looked like rabbits’. 

“Good morning, Naruto, Gaara,” Juugo finally acknowledged the visitors’ presence, nodding faintly at them. “Don’t step on the animals.”

Naruto dazedly nodded back, still too stunned to form words. This bizarre scene of cohabitation wasn’t something he would ever expect from team Taka of all people. Juugo could pass as an exception since they all knew he attracted birds like a fairytale princess, but Karin, the Sasuke-obsessed woman, and Suigetsu, the water freak? What the hell was going on here? There should be someone or somewhere to draw the line, right…?

Creak.

Naruto whipped his head around at the faint echoes of footsteps, only to discover Sasuke stepping into view. 

It was a little bit chilling here since the window to their garden was wide open, so it wasn’t a surprise when Sasuke was wearing a hanten over the silk nagajuban underneath. In the shadowed interior, the outer coat seemed almost as black as his hair, but as he stepped into the spill of sunlight across the corridor, the fabric shifted, its surface showing the muted sheen of deep navy, edged with a lining of soft gray. The silky eggshell white silk of the nagajuban caught the light in a faint gleam at his collar and wrists. 

A small snake peeked its head out from underneath the hanten’s sleeve; the rest of its body seemed to coil lazily around Sasuke’s bicep; while a sleek black cat perched on his shoulder, tail swishing with imperious grace. 

The blond blinked, but before he could say anything, the faint thumps on the floor made his gaze lower, only to spot fluffy elongated ears bobbing up and down. Behind Sasuke, a couple of rabbits trailed after him with their little hopping movements like casual tagalongs.

Naruto’s gaze focused on the rabbits for a moment before Sasuke stopped about three meters away from him. He looked up, and words suddenly seemed to escape his mouth when the raven-haired man smiled softly at him. 

After nearly a month, Sasuke looked much healthier compared to when Naruto left for the diplomatic mission with the Sand village. His own pale skin seemed like it was drawn from the same palette as the nagajuban, now almost glowing with the faintest shade of a rosy tone underneath the sunlight.

Seeing that little smile in person made Naruto realise that the real thing was so much more bewitchingly dazzling than whatever image his mind could remember.

“Good morning, Naruto,” Sasuke said with a calm, collected voice, totally oblivious to how his action had just made something in the blond’s brain short-circuit. He then turned toward Gaara with a faint nod. “And you too, Gaara.”

“Long time no see.” 

Gaara replied without blinking. They both seemed to silently agree not to bring up the fact that their last face-to-face meeting was at the infamous Kage Summit.

Then, before anyone could say something next, a hawk glided through the corridor, wings flashing as it angled for the vacant spot on Sasuke’s shoulder. 

That action made the cat on his other shoulder hiss and get its hackles up. A low, guttural growl rumbled in its chest as its fur bristled, puffing it to almost twice its size. Its ears flattened against its skull, and its claws unsheathed.

As the hawk descended, the cat attacked with a lightning-fast, spitting swipe of a paw, its claws fully extended and aimed straight for the bird’s talons. 

Kee-aah!

In response to that, the hawk let out a sharp cry in defiance. Its wings flared to halt the landing, while its own formidable talons came up to meet the cat’s attack.

For a moment, it looked like chaos would break loose. But in the next second, Sasuke tilted his head a little toward the cat while lifting his arm to offer the hawk another spot to perch on.

“Settle, you two.”

The soft but commanding tone in his voice seemed to have an immediate effect on both animals. The cat gave one last disgruntled flick of its tail, but its fur was slowly de-bristling. At the same time, the hawk abandoned its aggressive posture and gracefully closed its wings, settling onto the offered arm with a final clack of its beak, as if scoffing at the feline. 

Meanwhile, the snake shifted slightly around Sasuke’s arm with a quiet hiss as if to remind them all who actually had seniority here.

A long moment of silence passed before Naruto finally croaked, bewildered.

“Can someone at least explain to me what the heck is going on here?”

…