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sasusakufestival · 8 years ago

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Metamorphosis

Summary: It’s been four years since Sarada quietly, haltingly confessed to Sasuke and Sakura over dinner that she – he – was not a girl. [Day 13 – Prompt: “It’s A Boy” ]

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. Seriously, just don’t do it.

General Warnings: I can’t believe I need to have a warning for this, but we live in a time where people can be horrid little monsters. There are LGBTQ themes in this story. There is a transgender character, and the story deals with some of concerns and difficulties that families, especially parents, of a transgender child deal with. If you are uncomfortable with this subject matter in anyway, you are welcome to click the “back” button and wait around for my next prompt. Nasty comments about my choice in subject matter will be ignored, and possibly mocked.

Trigger Warning: For those of you who actually are LGBTQ, this story may bring up some strong emotions. My best friend/surrogate brother/braintwin had some difficulty reading this chapter for me and as it hit on some of his own experiences and challenges coming out as transgender. He made sure I knew how important it was to tag this appropriately. Though he said this story was well-written, as someone who had dealt with the scenario personally, he didn’t like it. So if you have experienced something in your life where you are caused distress by reading about parents trying to come to terms with their transgender child do not read this story. I don’t want to cause mental anguish or reopen wounds that some of you might not have had a chance to heal yet.

Author’s Note: The minute I saw this prompt I knew this was the story I was going to write. There aren’t enough fics out there dealing with transgender kids coming out, and even fewer about what the parents (even the most supportive ones) go through behind closed doors. I’ve done my best to be delicate with the subject without sacrificing any of my usual style choices. Obviously, not every experience is the same from individual to individual, but I made every effort. And just to head off any comments about my own personal stand on the matter: I support transgender individuals and their rights. I believe that it is your mind and your soul that determines who you are, not your genitals. And while I am not perfect, and I still occasionally slip up with pronouns and accidentally say things which show my privilege as a cisgender woman, I stand by the transgender community. Especially in this time, when hatred and outrage are directed at across the entire world. The views expressed in this story are not all necessarily mine – in fact, there are several ideas that were difficult for me to put to paper, because I very much don’t agree with them. But based on my research, for good or ill, they are sentiments that have been expressed by parents when a child comes out. I only hope I have managed to treat the subject matter with respect and possibly given you, my readers, something to think on. You may not like Sasuke in this story. You may not like Sakura. That’s okay. I’m hoping to showcase that even the people we care deeply for (whether real or imaginary) can do some things we don’t necessarily like or agree with. Doing the right thing is not always as easy, and some people find it harder than others, but in the end it is worth it. No one should weight their personal discomforts or prejudices against another person’s happiness and right to thrive.

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Sasuke stares up at the large, draping banner in his living room while bunches of blue helium balloons meander along the ceiling, nearly obscuring the clock that ticks closer and closer to the inevitable. He has to consciously rein in the desire to set it all on fire.

He hates parties. Always has, always will. Even knowing that this is for his kid isn’t much of an incentive to relax, because he finds that hard to do under normal circumstances.

Naruto would say that that’s because he’s got a pole shoved up his ass, but then, Naruto’s judgement is questionable. It’s been that way since childhood, JSDF, Iraq and then the stint in the Okayama bomb squad seven years ago which resulted in them both losing an arm.

Then again, his questionable judgement is also the reason Sasuke was even alive to having a kid and throw ridiculous, superhero themed birthday parties in the first place, so he gets a pass.

This time.

The entire foyer has been decorated with streamers and decals of the latest comic craze to hit television. Interspersed along the wall are little cape-clad figures proudly proclaiming, “It’s a Boy!”.

Honestly, it’s utterly kitschy and targeted for a much younger demographic than an eleven-year-old, but then, today isn’t an ordinary birthday.

It’s been four years since Sarada quietly, haltingly confessed to Sasuke and Sakura over dinner that she – he – was not a girl. It was an announcement which, Sasuke maintains, caused him considerable confusion and, if he’s not lying, a little resentment.

He comes from a traditional background. His ancestors were samurai of note, and the Uchiha name means a lot in their small community of Konoha. An old, founding family with traditions and taboos and expectations. The idea of these “LGBTQ issues” that his wife and child keep talking about falls very naturally under the umbrella of what Sasuke was brought up to categorise as “don’t ask, don’t tell”.

Men and women among the Uchiha may take lovers of the same sex if they wish, as long as they fulfil their duties to the clan: namely get married and produce children. Hell, his own brother has been in a twenty-year relationship with a male masseuse, but Itachi still had the wherewithal to get married and produce two kids first.

The point is, it’s not talked about.

It is how everything has always been done. And in just the same way, among his family, members of the Uchiha play the role they are assigned by birth. A man has his place, as does a woman. The idea of operating outside of those very separate spheres, let alone the idea of a man being born into the body of a woman, is nonsensical to him.

To say Sasuke had instant reservations would be putting it lightly.

If he were a man of a different temperament – a man like his father – his first instinct would be to point out to his child the impossibility of the situation, and if that failed, attempt to find some counsel to get over it. A very, very small part of him continues to be tempted to do just that. The other part – the one that has travelled the world and been exposed to many different lifestyles, the one who has struggled with his own demons, both addiction and the trauma of active combat, the one who married one of the most open-minded women in existence –

That part tells him to keep his fucking mouth shut and go along with it for the sake of his family.

If it weren’t for Sakura, he doesn’t think he could manage it.

His wife reacted to the announcement with the same sympathy and open-mindedness he’s seen her display at every major milestone, like the time Sarada shamefacedly admitted to perhaps needing glasses or when some of their Uchiha cousins throw around insults about “commoner blood”. In every case, Sakura is always the calm and comforting one, the one ending her assurances with, “We love you no matter what.”

In her usual whirlwind manner, after hearing Sarada’s announcement, she made it her personal mission to ensure their child’s needs were met completely. Because of the nature of her job, she was already very knowledgeable about it all, to the point of being matter-of-fact.

“No matter what, the important thing here is to show that we support him from the beginning,” she insisted.

Suddenly the house was filled with every book possibly written on the subject, and every other day she was on the phone with some expert or other. For four years, she organised psychological and psychiatric consultations, fought for an official diagnosis of gender identity disorder, had them attend individual and family counselling sessions, schooled Sasuke in using the proper pronouns, had them all meet with a sexologist –

And woe betide anyone – friends or even family members – who questioned her decision to support Sarada. There’s a reason that Sasuke’s family, with the exception of Itachi, will be conspicuously absent from today’s festivities.

It’s another one of Sakura’s ideas, a formal show of support, as Sarada has decided the time is right to live as a boy from now on.

They have told a select few people, with Sarada’s permission, over the years – the respective grandparents, Naruto and Kakashi and their families, Sarada’s teachers and her best friend ChoCho – but today is the official “coming out”. Sakura was seconds from taking out an ad in the damned newspaper before Sasuke and Sarada stopped her.

He wonders if there’s such a thing as being too supportive.

“How are you doing with all this?”

Sasuke glances to one side, notices Kakashi eyeing him knowingly. His former bomb squad captain and mentor is always observant. Today is one of those days Sasuke wishes he wasn’t.

“Fine,” he replies neutrally, taking a sip of tea. He isn’t actually thirsty, but he just needs something to occupy his hand and mouth.

“And Sarada?”

“Fine.”

Kakashi sighs in annoyance. “Is there any point to asking how Sakura’s doing?”

They both glance through the door to the kitchen, where Sasuke’s wife is fighting with Ino about pretzel-to-chip ratios (“Don’t you dare fuck up my child’s birthday party, Pig!” “You’re the one who can’t manage proper place-settings for shit!).

“She’s in her element,” he replies simply.

“Man, I’ve got so much respect for you guys,” Naruto says with a low whistle, and then takes a chug of his own beer. “I don’t even know what I’d do if it were my kid.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “You’d be doing the same thing I’m doing, moron. Only more panicking and oversharing.”

“Very funny,” Naruto replies with a scowl, but then his face relaxes into earnestness. “I’m not so sure. I mean, yeah, in theory I’d like to say I would, but in reality… It’s just weird. I mean, one day, you have Sarada, and the next day…well, the next day you have him.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Sasuke replies shortly.

Any further rumination on the topic is cut off when the doorbell rings.

“I’ve got it!” Sakura sings, flying from the kitchen to greet their first guests.

“Shouldn’t Sarada get the door?” he inquires. “It’s his party, after all.”

“He’s busy. ChoCho said something about a surprise,” his wife answers, hauling open the door and exclaiming her delight at the first guests.

Sasuke sighs, squares his shoulders, and prepares for the longest afternoon of his life.

うちは

The atmosphere in the beginning of the party is pleasant, but there is a definite undercurrent of curiosity and uncertainty beneath the requisite excitement.

When Hinata arrives with Boruto and Himawari, the latter chirps a sunny hello to Sasuke and bounds upstairs to find Sarada. As in all things, she is utterly unaffected by the whole mater. To her, life is simple: yesterday it was sunny, today it’s overcast.

Sarada was a girl, now he is a boy.

In contrast, Boruto skulks in, glowers at everyone, and goes to sit in the farthest corner with his handheld gaming device. Naruto scowls at him, and when Sasuke raised an eyebrow, he shrugs, and confides in a low voice, “He’s having some trouble adjusting. Sarada’s his best friend. Even knowing this was coming…I don’t think he actually thought it would.”

Neither of them mention the fact that Naruto’s son has always had a crush on Sarada, and that this complication might be a major part of his resentment.

Besides, Sasuke has more to concern himself with, not least of all the minor heart-attack he has when his d – his son – makes a grand entrance about half an hour later, with ChoCho and Himawari beaming smugly on either side.

Sarada has shorn off his long hair and bangs, leaving nothing but spiky black bristles. The horn-rimmed glasses he has sported since childhood have been replaced with a thick, squared rim. And even though Sasuke hasn’t seen Sarada in anything resembling a dress since the age of three, the sight of loose-fitting khaki shorts and dark blue polo are a bit jarring.

It’s like looking at himself when he was eleven.

“Oh, darling!” Sakura swoops over, tackle-hugging Sarada from behind and pressing a kiss against his temple.

“Mom, you’re choking me!” their beleaguered offspring complains, but Sasuke can tell it’s just an act. He’s pleased by the contact.

“Doesn’t he look great?” Sakura exclaims as they watch Sarada head over to a group of friends and cheer about the pile of waiting presents.

“Sh – He cut his hair,” Sasuke points out through gritted teeth. “Why does he need to cut his hair?”

“It’s his way of asserting his masculinity.”

“There’s nothing masculine or feminine about hair,” he protests. “None of the men in my family have cut their hair unless they were in service. Itachi’s is practically down to his ass, and he’s got flee on-sight-warrants in three different jurisdictions.”

Sakura’s face is set in that particular way – the “if you don’t shut up I will grab you by the short-and-curlies-and-twist” look he only sees when he’s doing something socially unacceptable.

In a quieter voice, Sasuke adds, “Isn’t this the sort of thing that requires parental consent?”

“It is, and we’ll discuss it with him later after his friends have gone home,” his wife says crisply, returning to the kitchen before Ino sets it on fire.

Naruto gives him a knowing look, and Sasuke snaps, “What?”

“Nothing. I just find it interesting that you’re getting upset about ancient Uchiha hair traditions. Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk about?”

“You’re the one who feels the need to emote everywhere. So go do that somewhere else.”

His best friend sighs at that, and meanders away, knowing better than to push. Kakashi exhales a weary laugh and says, “For what it’s worth, I think he improved on your look. Your hair always reminded me of the back-end of a duck.”

Which Sasuke doesn’t even dignify with an answer. Instead, he wanders over to the dining room table, which has been lovingly decorated with every type of junk-food offering and warehouse-sized plate of fruit imaginable, and resentfully begins picking through it.

Across the room, Sarada is having a blast.

He takes great glee in opening presents, laughing uproariously over stereotypically boy gifts. Occasionally he shoots a glance up at his father, showing off a video game or football gear, and rolling his eyes, which makes Sasuke’s heart life a little. Just because he’s a boy doesn’t mean Sarada fits a particular mould – it’s a relief to know he’ll still probably want Sasuke to show him proper kendo form instead of attending some brutish sports rally.

Throughout the party, Sarada’s friends are curious but open, most of them already knowing the specifics, while some still ask questions. When anything gets too close to inappropriate – such as whether Sarada intends to get surgery – Sakura is there to swoop in with small, yet pointed reminders.

“That’s a rather personal question, Shinki. If he wanted you to know that, he would tell you.”

In his corner, Boruto pretends not to listen in, but the scowl on his face isn’t as pronounced. The parents are more quiet in their curiosity – these are all old family friends, and more than one of them owes Sakura in some way. No one will say anything unkind here, and once Itachi shows up with Shisui in tow, no one will dare think it either.

But it still makes Sasuke nervous, having to stand there and answer questions or hear comments about matters that he doesn’t truly understand himself. If his wife wasn’t so busy playing the hostess, she could be making infantile conversation instead of him.

Somehow, the time does pass, and they eventually get to the point in festivities when Sakura and her mother carry in a huge chocolate cake, and the din becomes overwhelming. It’s amusing how a bunch of kids that insist they be treated like adults turn feral when sweets are introduced to the equation.

Sarada waits until everyone has finished a horrifying rendition of the birthday song, and then stands up and calls for silence.

“I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for coming by today,” he says. “And for all the cool gifts. And I really want to thank my Mom and Dad for doing this, because it’s been awesome.” He beams at them, and Sasuke feels Sakura appear beside him, leaning into his side. “I also wanted to share something with you guys, because it is my birthday. It’s a pretty huge deal for me, and you all mean a lot to me, so I wanted you to be the first to know.”

He shifts nervously.

“So…when I was little, I asked my Mom why they called me ‘Sarada’. It’s kind of weird name.”

“Yeah, they basically called you “salad”,” Boruto grumbles.

“Fuck you, Bolt.”

“Language!” Sakura snaps, her voice like a whip-crack. Every kid in the vicinity, and some parents, wince.

“Sorry, Mom,” Sarada says, ducking his head penitently before continuing on. “Anyway, Mom told me how she and Dad came up with the name. That it’s made up of parts of their names, and my Uncle Itachi – who, if you guys don’t know, is brilliant and could probably make James Bond cry like a girl.”

Over in the corner, stuffing his face with dango, Itachi waves a stick in acknowledgement of the compliment.

“And the thing is… even though it’s a cool name, and I’m honoured to be named after these three people, it never really felt like my name. I knew I was going to have to leave it behind someday,” he continues solemnly. “It’s been a hard decision. I never really brought it up with my parents because, well, they’ve been so focussed on helping me through all of the other stuff. It never seemed like the right time. Besides, it’s has been hard finding something that fit. And I didn’t want to completely forget what went in to naming me the first time, so I decided on something that still keeps the spirit of what my parents thought of alive.” He takes a deep breath. “From now on, I would prefer if you all called me Sachiro.”

It’s the first time either he or Sakura have heard the new name, even if it has been discussed.

The cheers and clapping from the guests wash over Sasuke, who flashes back to that day, eleven years ago, when he and Sakura were debating names. They hadn’t been able to agree on anything in the months leading up to the birth, and now it mattered, and neither of them could think of something fitting.

How she looked, flushed and exhausted from giving birth, but so obviously happy. Her tentative suggestion of naming the baby after them both, and Itachi, who was the only reason the Uchiha family had accepted Sakura as Sasuke’s wife. How at that moment, he couldn’t think of anything that was more appropriate.

The music and chatter seems to start up again tenfold, and Sasuke finds himself staring down into eyes that are the exact colour of his own.

“That’s okay, right, Dad?” his child ask quietly, and a little uncertain. “It’s a good name?”

Sasuke’s chest constricts a little, and he nods slowly. “Hm.”

Sara – Sachiro – beams up at him. It’s the same brilliant, joyful smile of Sakura’s that Sasuke fell in love with, the same smile he has seen when he read stories, visited the park, taught her – taught him – to swim and climb trees. Toothless, or beneath a scratched nose, or covered in mud.

A smile, he realises not, that grew rarer over the years.

Sarada has always been a little sullen, a little quiet and reserved. Sasuke always thought that she – he –was just similar to the way he was when he was a kid. But right now, the way this boy beams and laughs and just exudes joy, Sasuke sees more of Sakura for the first time in almost a decade. There’s a joie de vivre there, a confidence and sense of self Sasuke has barely felt.

And the idea that he could be responsible for that smile or certainty disappearing, that’s the thing that convinces him, finally, that all of this is right. Whatever he personally feels, it’s no longer about just going along with it and humouring the situation, as if it’s something that has been done to him. It’s about his child’s happiness and frame of mind.

The realisation isn’t a happy one, per se, but it’s solid enough that Sasuke thinks he will make peace with it, eventually.

“Mom?” Sa – Sachiro is asking, bringing Sasuke back to the moment. “What do you think? It’s still got yours and Dad’s and Uncle Itachi’s name in it. I mean, the ending is a little different, but I thought –”

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” Sakura says, reaching out and brushing a hand over newly shorn hair. There’s a warble of emotion in her voice as she says it, but when Sasuke glances down at her to check, she’s already pulled away. “I’m going to go get plates for the cake, alright?”

Sachiro nods, grins one last time at them, and hurries back to his friends.

Sakura crosses the room, and Sasuke is concerned to notice a stiffness in her back that wasn’t there before. She makes a beeline for the kitchen, pausing only when intercepted by Tsunade, who she greets with a wide – And false, he notices smile – and accepts a nondescript plastic bag. As she continues to the kitchen, Sasuke sees her fist clenched around the handle, knuckles white and shaking.

He isn’t the only one to notice, either. Naruto watches Sakura disappear into the kitchen and shoots a questioning glance at Sasuke. They’ve all known each other since they were toddlers, which means he knows as well as Sasuke when something is wrong. Without words, Sasuke communicates to his friend to keep an eye on things, and follows his wife.

うちは

He finds her standing over the sink, fingers clenching the metal, her shoulders shaking.

“Sakura?”

There’s a sharp inhale and she straightens up, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Oh, Sasuke, you’re here – did you need something?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing! Nothing, I’m just…cutting more onions for the dip.”

It’s an utterly different story from before, made all the more unbelievable by the fact that there are no onions anywhere in the house.

“Sakura…”

“Tsunade stopped by from the hospital,” she goes on, and makes a vague gesture to the kitchen table. The plastic bag Sasuke saw earlier has been casually tossed there. “She knew we were so busy with everything, so she filled the prescription for the… for the blockers.”

Sasuke tenses, staring at the package with renewed understanding. They’ve had discussions in the past weeks, as Sarada grew closer and closer to making the official, full-time transition. There were mentions of intervening before the onset of puberty, recommendations from the psychiatrist to get started now while they wait for official permission to start him on testosterone injections, but –

Looking at the nondescript plastic bag, Sasuke can’t help a resurgence of his apprehension.

He knows it’s only a temporary measure – in theory, it’s like a pause button, a chance for Sachiro to be absolutely sure before any actual commitments are made. There are still many more milestones in the future, this one isn’t even the most important.

But it still unnerves him; judging from Sakura’s shakiness, she is affected too, even though she tries to chat like normal.

“We can give them to h-him tonight, or…or maybe gift-wrap them, and add it to the present pile? It would be a nice surprise, I think…don’t you think?”

She sounds like she really wants his opinion on this, and he opens his mouth to agree, to disagree, to do something, but it feels like his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. He has only just had his personal revelation on the subject matter. Before this he’s kept himself out of any major decisions, and she’s aware of this. Why the hell does she want him involved in this one? She’s the one who has been so keen on pursuing all of this, why –

There’s a sudden choking sob.

Before he can really parse what he’s seeing, Sakura’s face seems to crumple, her bright eyes and trembling smile imploding into a look of horror.

“What are we doing?” she whispers, and shaking fingertips go to her lips. “Oh, Sasuke, what are we doing? What if this is wrong? What if…?” She emits a staggered sob. “People understand here, but what if she…what if he wants to go somewhere else. For college. For work. People can hurt him – you’ve read the stories in the paper, what if that happens to our…”

She trails off in a moan, and tears are now leaking from the corners of her eyes, her voice getting higher and more panicked in pitch.

“We’re rushing this – I feel like we’re rushing this –”

“Sakura…” he begins, reaching for her, but she evades his touch, pacing now.

“Sh-she said she needed this, and everything she asked for, everything she asked us to do, I did, but maybe we should have talked more first – four years isn’t that long, maybe…maybe it’s a mistake, maybe we’re not doing the right thing –”

“Sakura –”

“Why couldn’t she just be gay?” she cries suddenly, rounding on him with wild eyes. In her panic, she is no longer able to use the correct pronouns. “This would…this would just be so much easier if she just liked girls, because then she…then we wouldn’t…”

“Didn’t you tell me it isn’t the same thing?” he asks, tentative and uncertain.

“I know it’s not!” she snaps, and then presses her fist against her mouth, stifling the uncontrollable sobs that now rack her body. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You did not do anything wrong,” he informs her, taking her by the shoulder now and squeezing in reassurance.

But his wife doesn’t seem to notice, instead looks off into the distance.

“And the name,” she continues in a whisper. “I knew there would be a point when we…but…but Sarada was our miracle. She was our little g-girl and I’ll never get to say her n-name anymore, and she…didn’t even ask and I…I mean, is it…is it wrong that I should want a say in m-my own child’s name?”

Sasuke exhales, drawing Sakura into his arms and holding her close. “No.”

“I h-had a daughter, Sasuke,” she sobs into his shoulder. “I g-gave birth to a girl, and she was beautiful and w-wonderful and…and do you remember that first year? With the ladybug dress, and the s-strappy shoes?”

“I do.”

“And the way she would pretend her mattress was a magic carpet and ride it down the stairs, and I…I know we said we did this for her – him. We’re doing this for him, so he can be healthier, and happier and I’m trying my hardest to let h-him be who he is, but why…why does it feel like I’m killing her?”

The question is so raw, so wrecked with pain, that for a split second Sasuke wants to call everything off. His wife is hurting, and the event going on in the other room is causing it, and since he was seventeen, his life has revolved around ensuring the Sakura does not hurt.

But since he was twenty-two, his life has also revolved around ensuring his child does not hurt.

He knows that if he walks in there now, telling everyone to return home – or even just calls Sa – Sachiro in and points out that his mother – the one who has been a pillar of support since the beginning – is having second thoughts, it will break him. And his…his son is the kind of person that will accept a lifetime of misery if he thinks it will save someone he cares about a little pain.

If it’s someone Sachiro loves with the same fierce devotion as he does Sakura, he’ll quietly go back into the closet and never say another word about it until his dying day.

And from the articles that Sasuke has read over his wife’s shoulder, that’s something that could come much sooner than later.

The idea is chilling.

Which is why it only takes another split second for Sasuke to pull out his phone and send a text to Kakashi and Naruto – both of whom are as protective of his child as he is – and orders them to keep everything running smoothly. Then, he leads a still shaking Sakura up the stairs and back to their room.

Shutting the door, he leads her to their bed and sits her down, then silently takes the place beside her. For a long while, he simply allows her to cry, holding her until she gets past the wordless, grief-filled sobs.

When he senses her coming back to herself, he takes up the conversation as if there was no break.

“You are not killing anyone,” he tells her, quietly but firmly.

“But she’s still going to be gone,” Sakura says dully. “It’s almost worse.”

“You don’t mean that.”

She swallows. “No. I don’t. But I…sometimes, I still feel like our daughter is…dead. And we’re supposed to replace her with this…this stranger.”

It is the first time Sasuke has heard his wife utter any of this. The first time he has heard her insinuate that she is just as uncertain of this whole situation as he is, that she has doubts. And it’s the first time that he finds himself in the position where he has to be the one with the answers.

He has no idea what to do, but it’s clear silence is not the answer in this case.

Stick to the facts, he decides. He’s better at logic than emotion.

“That child downstairs is still our child,” he tells her firmly. “The child you carried inside you. Everything you love about that child is still there, whether we have a boy or a girl. And our son is happy, which means we are doing the right thing.”

Sakura sniffs.

“You’re just saying that,” she mutters. “I know you haven’t been completely on board about this.”

“I haven’t,” he agrees. “I’m still not sure that I completely understand. But I do know that Sa – Sachiro is happy. And he’s safe. And protected. And accepted by his friends, our neighbours and most of the town, and that is because of you. He would not have even this much anywhere else. And if he were growing up the way I did, he wouldn’t have any of it. He would be miserable.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I know that, Sasuke, in my heart I know it, but every so often, right when I’m least expecting it, there’s just this moment. And I just feel it all, all over again. And I can’t say anything, especially not to S-Sachiro. It would crush him. And if anyone else thought I wasn’t supporting him, then maybe they’d stop supporting him, and –”

“Then you tell me,” Sasuke interrupts her.

She glances at him in surprise. “What?”

“You’re supposed to tell me these things,” he continues, dogged. “I can only guess you haven’t for that exact reason. You thought if you wavered, I’d put a stop to this whole thing.”

“I-I didn’t mean to…”

“You might have been right,” he concedes. “But that was before. I’m also the only person in this whole situation that is going through the same thing as you. From now on, you tell me when you’re feeling like this. It’s not healthy for you to keep it inside – isn’t that what you used to say to me?”

“Sasuke…”

“Did you…want to me to set up a meeting?” he suggests, tentatively, because this next bit is definitely not his strong point. “With the therapist?”

She sniffs, rubbing at her eyes. “Yeah. Yes. But I’ll make the appointment.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“You hate talking to therapists,” she points out.

“If you want me there, I’ll be there.”

“…I want you there.”

“Then that’s settled.”

They are silent for a while, just sitting quietly together, her ear pressed against his heart and his fingers stroking her hair in comfort. For just a few precious minutes, they can be two parents struggling with a change that has been a long time coming, but which neither has been truly prepared for.

Eventually, Sakura breaks the silence. “We should go back downstairs before we’re missed.”

“Hm.”

“If Sa- Sachiro comes looking for us, we’ll have some explaining to do.”

“You should take your top off. That would forestall any questions.”

“Sasuke!”

She smacks him a little more than lightly in the shoulder, but there is a hint of her smile from her earlier back on her face. He considers it a win.

“Do you think this will all turn out?” she asks, tentative. “He’ll be okay, right?”

“I don’t know. But I believe his chances are better, secure in the knowledge that he has our support.”

“Yeah…”

Sakura inhales a deep, shaky breath and squares her shoulders.

“Alright. Let’s go back down,” she says, with only a little less of her usual certainty. She catches sight of herself in the bedroom mirror, and frowns. “Everyone will know I was crying. I look horrible.”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” he tells her, because they both know he always finds her beautiful. He takes her by the hand and leads her from the room. “Besides, we can always say you were cutting onions.”

_____________________________________________

終わり

Apologies if I got anything horribly wrong, this was a difficult piece to write. As usual, as part of the SasuSakuFestival, please go to the ssfest page and vote, like and/or reblog, it would be majorly appreciated!

クリ

#ssfest17 #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #ssfestday13 #submission #ssfestentry

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mookaron · 6 years ago

Text

In this lies my honour and my reward

Chapter 1: Even In Dreams

*Oi, Naruto. Wake up. You have training today*. A breathy voice murmured. Naruto opened his eyes, still bleary from the morning haze. Kurama was awake before him, surprisingly. That fox slept like the dead most of the time.

"Hnngh..."

Was all Naruto could be bothered to get out before promptly going back to sleep. He stayed up until the ungodly hours of the night the day before and wasn't about to answer to a wake-up call. Besides, Kakashi-sensei was never on time, even when the schedule was changed to his liking.

The bijuu sighed heavily at his poor response, curling a hint of his chakra out of Naruto's seal, preparing to slap him awake. Naruto barely blinked at the action, and the tail rose higher and made its descent.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" Naruto cried, sitting up and glaring at the tail of red chakra staring right back at him. It was inches away from his face. Kurama chuckled, pulling back his tail.

*Get your ass out of bed, brat. You're supposed to meet your team on the bridge at eight thirty.*

Naruto frowned at the reminder. He wasn't sure when the Kyuubi no Kitsune became his surrogate mother, but that fox was definitely more of a softie than he was letting on. At least Kurama wasn't biting his head off every time Naruto tried to talk to him anymore.

It'd been two years since Naruto became friends with the bijuu. At first, they were both hesitant to open up to each other- seeing as they were the cause of each other's problems. Naruto, Kurama's jailer; and Kurama, Naruto's reason for being an outcast. They were past all that now.

Naruto climbed up from his bed, stifling a yawn and casting a glance at the alarm. It reads 8:00. He wasn't late at all.

"Kurama," Naruto started, grumbling. The Kyuubi smirked in response, a flash of sharp teeth and amusement.

*It's a good habit to get up early, you know. Besides, you need to eat breakfast.*

The thought of food had his stomach growling, and he pouted. Naruto wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the covers and just go to sleep for an entire week, but he knew better than that. Besides, Sasuke and Sakura would most likely decapitate him for sleeping that long.

After all, they were going to learn fuuinjutsu today, and that was something his mother had been good at, according to Kurama. If there were a chance that Naruto could learn something about his parents besides the things the Kyuubi told him, he would do anything to gain just the slightest connection.

His mother. A fuinjutsu master. Maybe Naruto could follow in her footsteps one day.

Summoning up what little energy he could muster, Naruto smiled in satisfaction.

"Yosh! Let's get to it!"

___

By the time Naruto arrived at the bridge, he was coated with a thin layer of sweat. The beginning of summer did little to ease the humidity of the Land of Fire, especially when it just rained yesterday. He huffed a sigh, but grinned when he saw Sasuke and Sakura waiting for him.

The two were leaning against the railings, talking idly.

"Morning, Sasuke, Sakura-chan." Naruto waved exuberantly, walking towards them. Sasuke glared, though the traitorous quirk of his lips ruined the effect of the mulish expression.

"Morning." Sakura greeted back. She was twirling her pink hair absently, staring off into space. "I see Kakashi-sensei decided to be late again."

Sasuke huffed, a dark look in his eyes as he scanned the outline of the forest as if their jounin team-leader would pop out of the trees. Their sensei was a pain at times, always cropping up in odd places, at equally odd times.

Sakura frowned and rolled her eyes. “Always reading porn in public- one would think the man has no sense of moral decency.” She lets out an amused huff, glancing at her teammates.

"Always late, and has the emotional range of a chair." Naruto's eyebrows raised at Sasuke's words.

"You're one to talk."

"Shut up, loser."

Team seven settled back into their familiar banter, trading stories back and forth all while making jabs at their absent team teacher. Lost in the midst of their banter, none of the trio notices the silver-haired jounin lounging on a branch nearby. He smiled, well hidden under the dark fabric of his mask, recalling a time when the three could barely stand each other's company.

It struck a chord within Kakashi, the way they laughed and joked as if they had been friends for years. He pressed a hand to his right eye.

Obito. Rin.

Minato, I wish you could see your son.

Kakashi jumped down from the branches, making his way towards his students.

"Morning, Naruto, Sasuke, Sak-"

"You're late." The three muttered in unison, scowling up at him with vicious eyes. Kakashi took a step back and placed his hands up in surrender. His genin might just be genin- but they knew their way around pointy weapons and he didn’t want to tempt them.

"Mah, it's a one-time thing." He said, though that was obviously a blatant lie. Almost all of their training sessions started with him being at least a few hours late, but that was on purpose. If team seven could handle being alone with each other, then he's done his job.

"Today, we'll be learning some basics to fuuinjutsu." Kakashi lead them over to a grass clearing and spread out his sealing tools on the ground. Naruto actually had the nerve to look interested, while Sasuke and Sakura merely stared.

This was going to be an exciting lesson.

"Fuuinjutsu is an important part of shinobi life. You can use it to make exploding tags, sealing scrolls, anything that can be contained is influenced by this specific type of chakra manipulation." Kakashi continued, pointing at an inked paper and rolled up bamboo scrolls. As he watched for everyone's reaction, it seemed that Naruto was the only one who was on his toes. It was quite rare for him to be, too.

Kushina was like this, once upon a time. The thought was humbling, knowing that he was responsible for forming these children into shinobi who could endure.

Kakashi swallowed heavily, knowing that fuuinjutsu was the glory and downfall of the Uzumaki clan. Konoha sealing masters were seen as newborns when compared to the legendary ones in Uzushiogakure. It was practically fate for Naruto to be interested in his family's legacy without even knowing it ever existed.

Kakashi paused from his lecture, and gestured to the forest around them.

"Three laps around the base of the mountain. Go."

The complaining from the three might as well have been wake-up calls for the entirety of Konoha.

Kakashi watched their retreating forms, nothing more than a hazy light in the morning dew. He returned to his scrolls, dragging a brush pen across the paper, preparing the seals he needed.

Distinctly, he wondered if Naruto would have gotten the chance to learn Uzushio style fuinjutsu were it not for the destruction of the village. His people.

Kushina was sent from Uzushiogakure to be a jinchuuriki, but also as a safety net from the collateral damage of the fighting between Iwagakure and Kirigakure. She was to be clan leader, after all. However, after the destruction of the village, there was no more clan for her to lead, apart from her own family. And when she and Minato died, the role would have been passed on to Naruto...

It pained him to keep such information from the boy, but seeing as they were the Sandaime's orders, Kakashi had no choice but to obey.

Obey, obey.

It seemed that was all he could do.

Kakashi shook his head, banishing his thoughts. It would be useless to think of that now. He had to focus on the task at hand.

Dipping his brush in ink, Kakashi drew it across the paper in smooth, neat strokes. Simple sealing jutsus, designed for genin. The plan for their training in Fuinjutsu would be short, but considering that there wasn't much material to learn, it was to be expected of the art.

First, sealing jutsus for the three of them to recognize and break. Then, creating and unraveling the steps in making a proper seal. The last step was to learn to apply seals to weapons, according to the official handbook.

Screw the official handbook.

Kakashi's team was more than capable of making and memorizing seals. Glancing up from his work, the jounin leader stood up to welcome back the three sweaty genin.

"Ah, back already?" Kakashi joked.

The three were sweating like pigs.

Killing intent radiated off of them like heat. Sasuke had his Sharingan activated, and his arms were crossed. Sakura and Naruto mimicked his stance, and together they resembled the Legendary Sannin; complete with murderous looks and commanding presence. Kakashi, it seemed, raised a few monsters of his own.

"I'll have your head by tomorrow morning." Sasuke murmured.

Naruto nodded, squinting up at Kakashi. "His hair's mine."

"Hm," Sakura hummed thoughtfully. "I'm taking the money."

And together team seven smiled eerily innocent smiles, while Kakashi was dying on the inside.

___

Naruto was definitely one of the strangest shinobi Sasuke had ever met. One minute he was a blubbering fool and the next, a prodigy rivaling that of his brother. He may be dense as a rock and bat-shit crazy, but he was strong.

Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura had been training in the fields for the past six hours, taking breaks now and then. It seemed like a tight schedule to most people, but the chuunin exams were almost here, and they weren't about to slack off any time soon. Fuuinjutsu was harder than it looks. It didn't even occur to Sasuke that there would be thousands of fuinjutsu techniques, but apparently, they had to memorize them all.

According to Kakashi, anyway. And no one ever knew if the masked jounin was joking or perfectly serious.

Sasuke watched Naruto across the stream, cooling off by scrubbing the sweat and grime off his face using the cold water. Kakashi, being the try-hard that he was, decided to rig their usual training regime with explosive tags to ' motivate them ' and force them to seal items under pressure.

Naruto did better than Sasuke and Sakura combined.

Sasuke had no idea where his sudden expertise in fuuinjutsu came from, but he sure as hell was dying to find out.

"Oi, loser."

Naruto looked up, raising an eyebrow in annoyance at the nickname. Sasuke smirked in delight.

He looked cute when he was annoyed.

The Uchiha stuffed the thought down as quickly as it had come, fighting the blush that was threatening to creep into his face.

Dammit.

He feigned nonchalance instead, trying best he could to forget his sudden revelation.

"Where'd you learn to do fuinjutsu so well?"

And just like that, Naruto's face falls. He turns, ducking his head away from Sasuke's vision. That was unexpected. What did Sasuke say wrong?

"My-" Naruto started, brows creased in worry. "My mom was," He blew out a breath, moving his blond hair out of his face.

"Supposedly one of the best fuinjutsu masters." He said finally, not daring to meet Sasuke's eyes.

Oh. Oh .

Sasuke wasn't stupid enough to ignore the past tense in his teammate's sentence, nor the sadness lingering in the blond's eyes like a summer rainstorm. He recognized the pain, heart clenching at the memory of his own mother. They were both orphans, left behind with nothing more than a painful reminder that they were complete and utterly alone in the world.

Sasuke nodded solemnly.

A heartbeat passes, then some. The tension in the air was thick, but both boys were too lost in their own thoughts to notice.

"So, are you excited?" Naruto finally looked Sasuke in the eye, a smile replacing the grim, empty look he was sporting earlier. His desire to change the subject was evident.

Sasuke complied. "About what?"

Naruto flashed a bright grin, giving the Uchiha a big thumbs up.

"We have our first C-rank mission next week!"

"You're that excited? About a C-rank mission?" Sasuke asked, smiling despite himself. That Uzumaki's attitude was contagious.

"I heard the pay's good."

"Who's getting paid?" Sakura chimed in, rinsing her hands with a towel.

___

Hyuuga Hinata didn't know what to do with herself. After yet another day of training by hands of her merciless father, she was more than ready to pass out. At the academy, she was always a bit surprised to find that no one else's parents beat their kids to the point of exhaustion, and that no one else came to school bearing more abuse than a jounin ninja.

But she was Hyuuga, and that was what was expected of her.

Hinata stared up at the stars, wishing that she was never born. The Hyuuga reject, a pariah in her own family. Useless. Pathetic. Weak.

She cradled her swollen, bloody hands, and sighed. There weren't many places where she could be complete and utterly alone, but the top of Konoha mountain was one of them. At least from here, she could be separated from her clan.

Hinata watched Konoha from above, warily eyeing the Hyuuga compound in the darkness. She had at least a half-hour before they would wonder where she had gone, and go looking.

Thirty minutes to herself was more than enough.

She took out a small medic pack hidden beneath the layers of her kimono, setting the items in it on the cold stones of the mountain. It was packed to the brim with painkillers, gauze, stitches, and bandages. They were all half-used, and she only bought it a few days ago. Hinata prepared a clean swab, dipping it in cleansing alcohol and applying it to her arms. The bleeding had stopped, but it was on the verge of an infection, and she had to take care of that before it got any worse.

The first touch stung, and Hinata clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. The cuts were deep, and already starting to swell. It was nestled beside dozens of other fading scars. Scars she knew would stay with her for a lifetime.

It was almost like a brand.

Arms shaking with pain, she turned once again to the bag and took a needle, threading it with surgical silk. Carefully, she pulled the skin over the folds of the cut and began.

By now, she was used to it. Although Hinata was nowhere near a medical-nin and had no experience healing herself with ninjutsu, she could at least do the bare minimum. After all, she had lots of time to practice on herself.

Dots of blood seeped through the silk, turning the almost transparent color crimson. It was designed to dissolve after several weeks, so at least that was working in her favor.

Everything else wasn't, though. Training was about as challenging as an A-rank mission, except there was an absolute guarantee that Hinata would be hurt. Her father pitted her against Neji and Hanabi, who were both more skilled than any other Hyuuga their age. It was the same routine every single day. Wake up, eat, train with Kurenai, practice with the Hyuuga, sleep. Over and over again.

Hinata refused to hurt Neji and Hanabi every time. No matter how hard her father coerced her with force, no matter how much everyone else screamed at her, spat in her face, hit her— she refused to hurt them.

Because Hanabi and Neji were the only family that truly loved her, no matter how long ago that was. And she wouldn't ever dare hurt her most precious people. Only protect.

That was what Hinata's mother had told her before she died.

'Protect who you love.'

Protect who she loved? Or who loved her back? Because it seemed the only ones who actually cared about her well being was Kurenai-sensei and her team— and even then, only as classmates.

It was so unfair, so cruel. She loved Hanabi and Neji with all her heart, never wavered to protect them, care for them and yet- And yet...

It was just better for her to die.

Hinata paused her stitching, gasping when she realized that in her haze of thoughts, she ended up doing more harm than good to her wounds. Dabbing the cleanser once more, she returned to it with steadier hands. The sun was long gone from the horizon, and along with it, the warmth of day. Hinata shivered, pulling her Kimono closer.

Her time was almost up. Hinata had to return home.

Home .

Vaguely, she wondered she would ever have such a thing.

___

It had been a long time since he had nightmares of his brother. And yet here he was once again, in the cold Uchiha compound, surrounded by the bodies of his clan. The memory of seeing his grandparent and cousins laying dead on the floor was more than enough to make him want to empty his stomach.

Blood trickled down the walls, and the scent practically made him pass out.

And there was Itachi, back turned to him and sword drawn, his parent's corpses on the ground. Sasuke remembered it all-too-clearly, the look on Itachi's face as he faced him, eyes shining a deep red hue.

"I-Itachi?" Sasuke whispered, hugging the door to the main bedroom.

" Why- what-"

"My foolish little brother." Itachi spat, spinning a kunai in his free hand.

Sasuke shrank back beneath his brother's stare, eyes trained on his mother. She was beside his father, eyes blank and staring at Sasuke. His hands started to shake, whether from anger or fear, he didn't know.

Suddenly, he felt the cold touch of metal against his throat, aimed to kill.

"I told you I would get you." Itachi raised the tip higher, tipping Sasuke's head towards the ceiling.

Sasuke's blood ran cold. His knees buckled, and he collapsed on the floor with heaving sobs.

"Please, I- I don't-" He begged as tears flooded his vision.

I don't want to die.

Itachi curled the kunai, pressing its blade into Sasuke's skin, and in one neat stroke, slit his throat.

___

Sasuke struggled for breath as his throat closed in panic, and sat up abruptly. He was drenched in sweat, cheeks warm with tears as he struggled to remember how to breathe , how to make his lungs take in oxygen.

Itachi.

Mother. Father.

Sasuke cradled his head, digging into his hair with frustration. Why? Why? Why them, out of everyone in the world? Why would his brother, who loved him and cared for him, suddenly kill everyone? His whole body shook with pain, and Sasuke cried freely.

He cried for his cousins, for his parents, for the children who had their lives taken before they had the chance to enjoy them.

He cried for himself, the sole survivor of the massacre.

He sobbed until his tears were no more than choked up hiccups, dying down into exhausted sniffles. His eyes felt dry now, as if he hadn’t poured out his grief and the irony was not lost on him.

Sasuke stood up shakily on wobbly legs, wiping away any remnants of tears. He couldn't stay any longer, couldn't bear to live in the same house where his entire family was slaughtered.

Hesitantly he placed a hand against the walls, guiding himself under cover of darkness. The walls were once painted in the blood of his clan, he knew. It had all been scrubbed away, but for a second he thought he could see the bodies again, could feel the devastating killing intent.

Sasuke closed his eyes, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, the iron-copper tang metallic on his tongue as he licked it away absentmindedly.

He stopped just outside the gates, stumbling at the sight of the Uchiha crest.

He hated that figure. Hated the compound. Hated his name. Hated his brother.

Hated the horrible burden placed on him by someone who used to love him.

He walked up to it, touching the red and white fan with delicate hands. Sasuke swallowed the sob in his throat, his body giving up and forcing him to lean against the stone. The coolness of the wall brought relief to him, especially when the night was as humid and hot as the sheen of sweat on his face.

Why did it have to be him?

How pathetic, Sasuke thought. The last Uchiha , crying and stumbling around in his own house, begging before the very symbol of his clan.

But, there was nowhere for him to go. The compound was as much a jailer to him as a graveyard.

But...

There was someone he could rely on. It would destroy his pride, but he needed comfort, and that simply didn't exist within the Clan base.

At least, not anymore.

___

The last thing Naruto wanted was to be awoken at the ungodly hours of the night by such urgent knocks they sounded more like bombs. Who was even awake this late?

Naruto forced himself out of bed, dragging his sleepy self to the door.

"Who is it?" He grumbled, opening the door while rubbing his eyes. And immediately regretted doing so. Because standing in front of him was Uchiha Sasuke himself, eyes bloodshot and a painful look on his face.

What the hell? Was this some sort of genjutsu?

*Naruto, it's real. Kurama reassured him gently.

He didn't believe it. Not for a second. Sasuke, number one student in the Academy, the last Uchiha, was not standing in front of his door with a pillow in his hand.

"Sa-Sasuke-"

"Can I stay here for the night?" Sasuke whispered as if he was afraid to ask. His brown eyes bore into Naruto's blue ones, filled with agony.

And surprisingly, Naruto understood that kind of pain. Knew it all too well, the feeling of being lonely.

So he tipped the door further and let his teammate in, no questions asked. Sasuke walked in, surveying the small apartment with little interest. He was strangely...

Vulnerable.

It was as if he'd shed his mask of arrogance and confidence in just one night, and revealed someone completely different. It was equal parts scary and refreshing- thought Naruto cursed himself for thinking that. He was glad, at least. Sasuke trusted him enough to drop his facade, if only for one minute.

"Your apartment is messy as hell," Sasuke noted, pointing to the scattered papers lying about and dirty laundry on the floor.

Naruto raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in his tone, but decided not to say anything.

"Well, I was just-" He gathered them up, concealing the files on Uzushiogakure and their forbidden sealing jutsus. He'd swiped them from the archive in the jutsu library that was off-limits to Genins. Turns out, a simple transformation into one of the jounin guards did the trick.

"I was studying more about my clan." A half-truth.

While Naruto did want to learn more about his clan, it was difficult to even come across a single file that mentioned the Uzumaki name. Uzushio, though, even harder. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack. The few papers he had gathered barely cared to mention the capabilities of his clan.

Sasuke absently nodded, fiddling with his rumpled pillow with one hand.

"You want some water?" Naruto asked, guiding him over to his bedroom. It was a bit more organized than the main room, thank kami. He switched a light on, pointing to the small closet nestled in the corner of the space.

"There's an extra futon in there. I'll get some hot water and ramen."

The Uchiha looked like he was ready to start drooling at the idea of food. Naruto smiled and turned to the kitchen. What could have happened that made Sasuke want to find sanctuary in Naruto's house, of all places? He just seemed so out of it.

"Kurama, what did you sense?" Naruto appeared before the bijuu, wringing his hands in worry.

*His chakra seems colder than usual.* He answered, seemingly lost in thought.

Naruto jumped up to Kurama's shoulder blades, leaning his body against the Kyuubi's for warmth. "Like, scary cold? Does he wanna kill me?"

*Idiot. No.* Kurama's voice rumbled softly.

*Cold, as in sad. Depressed. Shocked. All of the above. There are many ways to interpret chakra, but for one thing, it's easily riled up by strong emotions.*

Naruto processed that for a minute. Sasuke was a little out of character, but Naruto hadn't the faintest idea why. He could feel Kurama sigh at the thought.

*Look underneath the underneath.* Was the last thing the bijuu said before slumping and immediately going back to sleep.

"Hey!" Naruto jumped off of Kurama's shoulder just in time to avoid being squashed. He was already snoring loud enough for Naruto to clap his hands over his ears, glaring at the Kyuubi. He was obviously trying to point out something important if he went to extreme lengths just so that Naruto could solve this on his own. That sounded a lot similar to what an overbearing mother would do.

Naruto stuck his tongue out at Kurama, knowing full well that he was too deep in sleep to bother noticing.

Look underneath, the underneath. He had said. What the hell did that mean?

The blond racked his head, but to no avail. Might as hell ask Sasuke himself.

He returned to his room with two cups of steaming water, handing one to his friend. Sasuke was quiet as usual, but more solemnly so. His shoulders were hunched over, eyes drooping with exhaustion.

"Hey, what happened?" Naruto asked softly. Sasuke grimaced at the question,

"You don't have to tell me-"

"A nightmare." Sasuke’s eyes dropped to the floor, lips thinned into a line.

Reaching out to Sasuke, Naruto swallowed him in a hug. It was awkward at first, seeing as how neither of them knew how to communicate in such an intimate way. Sasuke soon slumped against the blond's touch, and Naruto wondered how long it had been since someone comforted him.

"It will be alright." He whispered, watching as Sasuke drew in a ragged breath. He was silent as Naruto rubbed gentle circles in his back. This was grief, Naruto realized with a heavy heart. Sasuke didn’t like to cry in front of people, he knew. Didn’t want to show weakness.

And Naruto was okay with that. He understood the feeling with a passion. But if he could offer at least some sort of security to his teammate, he would do it without a second thought.

___

When Sakura bought eight packets of dango and a surprise gift to Naruto's house planning to surprise Sasuke, she did not expect to see Sasuke there. Not in the very least.

So all she could do was stare at the two when Naruto answered the door, a sleepy Sasuke on his right.

What the...?

She dropped the basket of sweets in shock.

" You-you ," She stammered, pointing at them. “Did you fight again-”

"No, Sakura, we did not." Sasuke answered calmly, rubbing his eyelids.

The pink-haired kunoichi bit back her retort, fuming silently as she tried to gauge the situation. What happened to the fierce rivalry they developed? How had Sasuke’s cold exterior melted so easily next to Naruto?

Naruto yawned. “It was just a sleepover.”

A sleepover? Since when did Naruto and Sasuke have sleepovers? Granted, they grew closer after their first mission- Sakura included- and she wouldn’t put it past them to actually have a sleepover, but it was just so out of character. So sudden.

“Wow.” Sakura picked up her basket while eyeing the two of them suspiciously. “So, can I come in, or…?” She gestured vaguely into Naruto’s apartment.

The boy had to audacity to look confused, at least before he caught a whiff of the food. “Sakura-chan, you brought food!” Naruto exclaimed, tugging on Sasuke’s arm in delight. He opened the door further with sparkling eyes that could match Gai-sensei’s. Sakura sighed, but didn't object when the two boys pushed her through the doorway.

“It’s a little bit messy, sorry.” Naruto laughed awkwardly, then proceeded to kick an old ramen-cup under his desk.

“It’s like this all the time, Naruto.” Sakura moved to pick up pieces of rubbish on his wooden floor, throwing a glare his way as she dumped it in the trash can. “She’s right, you know.” Sasuke crossed his arms.

Sakura cleared her throat. “Anyone up for some dango?”

She gingerly took out the candy before offering them to her teammates.

Naruto accepted it with a smile “Thanks, Sakura-chan.”

The kunoichi approached Sasuke next, who was a mask of practiced calm- though there was a slight frown to his features. “Take it.” Sakura goaded. Sasuke looked hesitant, though he carefully plucked the stick from her hands.

“Hm.”

Sakura guided them over to Naruto’s table, setting the extra packets on the surface and dropping down in one of the chairs. Silence settled over them like them like fog. Out of the corner of Sakura’s eye, she could see Sasuke eyeing the candy in his hands in disdain. Truth be told, Sasuke hated any kind of sweets. Sakura knew that fairly well. She and Naruto had a celebration in mind.

Sakura winked at Naruto, a mischievous smile plastered on her face. He grinned and turned to the Uchiha, who was nibbling the edges of the dango out of politeness with a twisted look on his face. She stared at Sasuke for a while, pretending to be offended that he wasn’t gobbling down the snack. Naruto chewed even louder than usual.

And then, they both started to laugh. Poor Sasuke stared at his teammates with a confused look on his face.

Hiccuping with giggles, Sakura reaches into her basket once more. “Did- did you really think we were going to let you eat dangos? You hate them.”

Naruto held back a choking sound, and practically sprinted for his fridge. He returned a fraction of a second later, a plate of homemade rice balls in his hands.

“What-” Sasuke muttered, but Sakura shut him up immediately with her own plate of cherry tomatoes. His favorite. “The dangos are just for us since you have such horrible tastes.”

Sasuke watched silently as his friends piled their food on the table, making a display that smiled up to him like rays of sunshine. Sakura studied his face. He seemed to be in shock, but there was nothing unpleasant about his surprise. Was he happy? Sad?

“What did I miss?” A voice called from the window. Ah. That’d be their jounin sensei. Sakura whipped her head around just in time to see Kakashi leap from Naruto’s balcony to the trio with, arms full with gifts. Sasuke gazed at all three of them warily, hands clenched beneath the table.

“I see you’re still late, Kaka-sensei!” Naruto jabbed a finger at him squinted eyes.

The jounin shrugged and sat down next to Sakura. Are you ready? His eyes seemed to say.

She nodded with vigor.

“Sasuke,” Naruto started, eyes lit up like a million stars.

“Happy birthday!” Sakura and Kakashi finished.

___

Sasuke didn’t celebrate his birthday. At least, not after Itachi left. It was easier to throw himself into training, into forgetting, than taking time to appreciate something so trivial. Even while his family was alive, they didn’t always bring him presents.

Birthdays weren’t a tradition that the Uchiha held stock in. Celebrations were for promotions, weddings, and events which held importance. The birthday of a child was just that- a day of birth and a reminder of how old the child was. No one in the clan was celebrated without cause, especially not for the paltry reason of making it another year in a cutthroat world.

Still, his family had always had small things. No parties, but-

His mother kissed him on the temple. His father smiled at him. Itachi, though . Itachi made rice balls and tomatoes for Sasuke, showered him in brand-new kunai and other gifts. When he could, anyway.

When the clan looked away long enough for affection to go unnoticed.

Sasuke didn’t understand the meaning of birthdays. He always wondered why other kids had parties with their friends and ate cake with their parents. Why it seemed so special to have a day to yourself.

By now, Sasuke had been alone for so long that he had forgotten how it felt to have people be there for him. To have friends to celebrate his birthday and food to go along with it. And now, well .

Kakashi was sitting beside him with presents for him , a real smile on his face that couldn’t be hidden- not even by his mask. Sakura brought him cherry tomatoes that he could barely resist, his hunger suddenly a jarring presence. Naruto made him onigiri rice balls. Not out of pity, not out of moral obligation. But because he wanted to.

Sasuke used to live for revenge. His only purpose to kill Itachi and avenge his clan. That was it.

His entire life goal, driven by hate. Even then, his life had not been his. He was merely a puppet in the grand scheme of things, fueled by years of trauma and loneliness.

He was just an orphan child whose memories were filled with empty bedrooms and blood splattered on the walls. Sasuke thought he didn’t need pleasure or happiness in his life. The need for that had all been swept away the moment Itachi left him behind with nothing but cruel words and the corpses of his parents.

But then…

Then came Team seven.

Their happiness was like sunshine, the only bright spot in Sasuke’s shithole life.

They were there for him. They remembered his birthday.

And looking at them now, a familiar emotion stirred in Sasuke.

Family.

The word sounded so foreign to his lips, so forgotten on his tongue that Sasuke struggled to remember what it meant. The idea of it was so tempting , so utterly beautiful.

“Sa-Sasuke?” Naruto asked worriedly, wide blue eyes blinking up at him.

He couldn’t seem to remember when his lips started to tremble until tears were curling at the corners of his eyes and threatening to spill onto his cheeks.

Sasuke never cried in front of people. It was a weakness to him, something enemies could easily take advantage of. He was surprised to find that it didn’t feel bad at all. It was almost comforting- he was surrounded by people who cared for him, after all.

“Shut up, dobe.” Sasuke muttered, managing to smirk. He wiped his face with his sleeve and closed his eyes.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

He almost began to weep once more as his teammates swamped him in a group hug.

Through the tears and ‘ I knew you weren’t that much of an asshole’ from Naruto, Sasuke hugged them back. Fiercely.

I think I have something else to live for after all.

___

That Naruto was onto something. Shikamaru was sure of that. After watching the blond creep around the Archive library several times and convincing himself that no, he was not a stalker, just observant, the Nara decided to find out what the dimwit was up to.

Shikamaru crept along the edges of the building, hands in his pockets. The security around the library was surprisingly lax, as if the jounin guards didn’t realize that they were guarding tens of thousands of information worth more than they were.

Sighing, he ducked under the the asleep shinobi and slipped through the front gates unnoticed. It didn’t take too long for him to find Naruto among the seemingly endless rows of books.

He was still wearing the ‘kill me orange’ that stood out like a palm tree in a dessert. Naruto was hunched over a pile of books stacked on top of each other, sifting through them hurriedly. Since when did he read? Because the last time Shikamaru checked, Naruto was not a fan of literature.

He flipped through the pages again, and mumbled something that Shikamaru couldn’t hear. What was he doing? Shikamaru tried to get a good look at the titles and scrolls Naruto was holding, but being three shelves away from him didn’t help his vision much. All he could make out were the district colors of red inscribed onto every book.

What a pain. Why did Shikamaru even follow him all the way to the library? He could’ve been watching the clouds roll through the skies instead, or sleeping…

“Shika, you aren’t gonna rat me out, right?” Naruto peered up from his books, a guilty expression on his face.

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes. He had been sure to mask his chakra and hide his trail as soon as he came into the room, but for Naruto to sense it so quickly… The Nara smoothed his expressions into a bored frown and walked over to the blond. Naruto wasn’t a sensory ninja, nor did he posses any dojutsu that allowed him expanded sight.

“Never knew you were one for reading,” Shikamaru dodged the question with ease. He peered over Naruto’s shoulder best he could. “Anything interesting in there?”

Naruto blanched and instantly swept the scrolls and books from Shikamaru’s view, and lowered his eyes. “Just some… clan stuff.”

Shikamaru recited the blond’s name in his mind. Naruto… Uzumaki, huh. He had been told that the class dead-last was an orphan, but apparently, that wasn’t exactly the case. He couldn’t quite make sense of the name Uzumaki, though. Maybe it was one of the smaller clans in the Fire Nation?

But clan files wouldn’t be kept in the Archives Library. Those were public to the citizens of Konoha, and were assessed by lower-ranked nin all the time.

This entire situation was troublesome. Why was he so curious?

Shikamaru sat down- more like dropped to the floor, god he was tired- and pulled a random book from the shelves. He skimmed through the chapters lazily, eyes dancing across the pages.

He thought solemnly of all the times he watched Naruto question others about his parents, how his eyes lingered on the families that the academy students accompanied.

People always responded harshly and criticized him for ever wanting such a thing- but Naruto was just a child. Just like Shikamaru, just like Ino, just like Choji and every other student that graduated from the academy.

If he truly found something about his own family, then maybe Shikamaru would be able to make up for all the times he was nothing but another bystander.

“Shika? What are you doing?” Naruto questioned.

“Can’t you see?” Shikamaru sighed heavily, though he sported a grin on his normally bored features. “I’m going to help you.”

___

#naruto #fanfiction #team 7 #haruno sakura #sakura #sasuke #uzumaki #uzushio #kyuubi #shikamaru #nara #ocs

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