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sirona_gs
Title: All things of dearest value hang on slender strings
Rating: R
Word count: ~8,900 this part, ~15,900 overall
Summary: Nothing sours a village’s mood faster than a heatwave, and with the anniversary of the Fourth Ninja War on the horizon, the Nanadaime Hokage knows something must be done about it. That’s where Sabaku no Gaara comes in, but Sasuke is not best pleased with his involvement.
Warnings: m/m sex, implied past torture
A/N: This was written for the (sadly) last round of the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sn_exchange, for kitarin. Enormous thanks go to aurrai for being an amazing beta, cheerleader and slavedriver in equal parts. She is truly a saint for having put up with me and put so much of herself into this story. The title comes from a quote by Edmund Waller.
All things of dearest value hang on slender strings
It’s hot. Sweat is gathering at Naruto’s hairline, at his neck, at the base of his back where his Hokage robes won’t let the air in. Opposite him Gaara sits impassively and though Naruto imagines he’s used to the heat, he can still see a thin shine above his lip that means the weather is unbearable, even to the Kazekage.
Naruto knows they are not the only two people suffering. Konoha has been blanketed by the nastiest heat wave in recent memory and many people are floundering under its oppressive humidity. What Naruto wouldn’t give for a swim! This weather is good for nothing other than lounging somewhere on a beach, working on one’s suntan, he thinks idly.
Naruto’s thoughts drift, as they have often done the past few days, to the upcoming anniversary of the war. He knows that he is not the only one brooding and that it’s more than the heat that has the village subdued. ‘Too many gaps in the weave of familiar faces,’ is what Neji says, and Naruto knows he’s right. He is aware that he has recently started to focus more on the gaps than on the people actually there; he doesn’t like it. It’s not what Ero-sennin would have wanted, being mourned to the extent that it takes over his entire life, turning all enjoyment to ashes. Something needs to be done; as Hokage it falls on him to figure out what that something is. He has a number of advisors on all matters; surely someone can come up with something reasonable?
He sighs silently. This is not how he imagined his job as Hokage would be, and he wonders what Shizune had to do to keep Tsunade focused in meetings during her time as Godaime. These are peaceful times, however – he would go through a hundred more of these meetings if it ensured the safety and prosperity of his people. He has grown enough to understand that the more bored he is, the less trouble the village gets into. While he is not above complaining about it, he relishes it as the reminder it is – they have won, the war is over.
“You are thinking again,” Gaara observes, bringing Naruto’s musings to a stuttering halt.
“So I am,” he chuckles apologetically and rubs at the back of his hair, embarrassed at zoning out. He turns back to face Gaara, the slight breeze from the open window at his back teasing the damp hair at his nape. “Sorry about that. I’m not used to this sort of weather. I wish—“
Naruto seems to freeze for a moment, his eyes glazing slightly, and then he turns to look at Gaara with unrestrained excitement on his face. Gaara knows that look.
“I have an idea …” Naruto starts, but Gaara already knows that he does. He lifts an enquiring eyebrow, a feel of trepidation coming over him at the sight of Naruto’s twinkling eyes.
“How about we have a beach party?”
“A beach party,” Gaara repeats flatly.
“Yeah! A beach party. And Yamato-sensei can build a wooden swimming pool, and we can have the kids try surfing, and build sandcastles – and we can have a proper festival! A week-long festival! Maybe I could ask Prince Hikaru to lend us the Land of the Moon’s circus …”
Gaara will regret interrupting – “Have you forgotten where we are? Where are you going to get all this water and sand from?” – because the Nanadaime Hokage is now looking in his direction with a determined little sly smile at his mouth.
“You mean who am I going to get all this water and sand from.”
Gaara turns his gaze to stare pointedly at the window and Naruto doesn’t say anymore. He doesn’t need to. The heavy feel of the air and the gloomy mood of the people are things Gaara understands. In his own village he would have shaded them in a shield of sand; the duty of the Kage to provide for the needs of their subjects is something else he understands.
Gaara slides his focus away from the cloudless sky outside and with a sigh asks, “So who’s the water coming from?” and is not the least bit surprised that Naruto already has all of it planned.
***
Ino quickly drafts a short scroll to announce the event to the villagers. The result is everything Naruto had hoped for – as if a current passing through a livewire, the news makes the village shake off its detached frame of mind. Laughter is heard again, not just amongst the children, as everyone speculates on what activities there will be. Naruto and his advisors have decided that the daily itinery will be announced each morning in order to keep up the anticipation – the list of events will be read out an hour past sunrise, and everyone would be able to see if they have guessed correctly from seeing the enclosures that would be raised each night. Naturally, the Hokage and Kazekage will preside over many of these, and Naruto makes a note to have some prizes made out for the winners.
He is sitting in his office that afternoon, a mass of clones doing his paperwork behind him while he listens to Sakura wrapping up her report of the past fortnight at the hospital, when a whisper in the corner of the room signals the arrival of his ANBU captain. The fact that neither he nor Sakura can see him is irrelevant; the feel of his chakra is inscribed over both their hearts. There had been a time when they had feared they would never feel it again; or if they did, that it would be the final time. The novelty has yet to wear off even after five years.
Once Hawk is certain that the room is secure he steps forward as silently as he arrives. He reaches for his mask and tugs it off; Sasuke’s black eyes pin them to where they stand.
“Mission complete,” he murmurs softly.
“Hey, teme,” Naruto throws out casually, but his eyes drift over Sasuke from head to toe looking for anything out of place. When they find nothing, he relaxes imperceptibly. “Good to know. So, while you were away, I came up with the most awesome idea! We’re going to have a beach festival!”
Sasuke blinks in confusion. It’s always a little difficult throwing off his ‘mission’ frame of mind, and Naruto’s lightning-fast mood changes do not make the transition any easier.
“A beach party,” he says flatly.
Naruto huffs. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” he asks, sounding put-upon.
Sasuke raises an eyebrow at the outburst, but decides not to ask. “Did you miss the part where there are no beaches anywhere near here?”
“Oh, I got that covered!” Naruto says, waving a hand dismissively. “Gaara’s making one for us! I talked him into it this morning!”
Sasuke says nothing; he imagines he could recount that conversation fairly accurately even without having heard it. It is a good idea, he thinks, not least because it will get Naruto to relax a little. He imagines that being Hokage could get a little overbearing, especially with a certain date looming on the horizon. He smiles slightly, just a twitch of the lips.
“Did you make sure to warn Iruka-sensei before you announced it to the village, so he would be able to manage the bunch of over-excited pre-genin?”
“Kakashi did that,” Sakura says flatly. She observes him coolly, assessing for mission damage while at the same time giving nothing of her thoughts away. Their relationship has been … strained since he came back. He doesn’t quite know how to fix it; doesn’t know if he wants to.
He sees Naruto’s smile dim slightly and amends his thought – he doesn’t care about Sakura’s attitude except it upsets the dobe, so he probably will be doing something about it. He just hopes it isn’t one of those things broken beyond repair.
It’s difficult for him to see Naruto pretend not to be bothered by it, so he changes the topic – asks for details on the planned festival so that he can organise its defence. It’s then that Naruto drops his bombshell.
“I’ve issued a village-wide order for the cancellation of all missions and training over the one-week period. Everyone needs a break, and they can’t do that if they have work to worry about. I strongly suggest that you follow that guideline for ANBU.”
“Naruto, you know I can’t protect us adequately if I give all my men the time off. It is simply not feasible.”
An unseen but familiar voice enters the conversation then. “It can be done, however, on a skeleton crew of guards. It has been done before. Consider a four-man twenty-four-hour rotation, Sasuke. That way you can give most of the men at least three of the days completely off. We can’t afford to have a bunch of high-strung ANBU shinobi on our hands.” The voice comes from outside the window; it does not shock anyone – Kakashi has not bothered to shield his chakra from his former students for some time now. While he likes keeping them on their toes, it is not nearly as easy as it used to be.
Sasuke nods thoughtfully. “Yes, that would work. Very well, Hokage-sama, I will arrange for it.”
“I’ve told you time and time again; for fuck’s sake stop calling me that!”
“But it’s what you are. It’s what you’ve worked all your life to achieve.”
“Yeah, but the way you say it, it always sounds so damn sarcastic! I feel like you mock me all the time.” He bares his teeth in affront.
Sasuke smirks. It’s true that he can’t quite bring himself to say it with a straight face, but the dobe deserves the respectful title, he’s undoubtedly earned it. He should consider it a compliment Sasuke uses it at all.
“As Hokage-sama commands,” he says just to needle the idiot; he never gets tired of the way Naruto’s eyes narrow and his lips draw back in a snarl.
“Bastard,” Naruto hisses, but he’s smiling. Sasuke considers that a minor victory and moves on.
***
Later that evening when the sun is no longer baking the air, Gaara makes his way sedately over to the designated area listening to an overexcited Naruto yammer away in his ear. Yamato is already there, as are Gai and Lee, determined to give their best efforts to help set up this ‘admirable and noble youthful venture’. Gaara makes a few hand seals nobody out of Suna has seen and pretends not to notice when Uchiha’s Sharingan flares from his place just behind Naruto. Sand gathers in huge waves around them, smoothing over the broad grassy clearing and shaping itself into a large beach, complete with five small sand dunes. He steps back, satisfied.
Yamato moves forward next – several minutes later a large wooden enclosure is dug in at ground level, and he easily siphons water from the nearby waterfall to fill it up. The makeshift pool looks sturdy enough so Naruto tries out a Wind jutsu on it, raising meter-high waves with ease.
“That should be good enough for the surfing contest!” he exclaims happily.
“Yosh!” Lee shouts. “I challenge you, Gaara-sama, my eternal rival, to find out who can stay up the longest on a single wave! If I do not win, I shall swim eight hundred laps of the pool by sundown!”
“You’ve created a monster,” Yamato says wearily to Gai, who is beaming with pride at his beloved student.
Gaara looks at Lee’s excited face and gently sighs in exasperation.
***
The sand is scorching under Gaara’s bare feet the next morning; he’s not used to it doing that. He’s not used to not wearing sandals, either, but Naruto has pestering down to a fine art and he’s never been able to refuse him much, no matter how idiotic, not when it makes him this happy. As a result he’s left his gourd in his room – not that he needs it with this much sand readily available. He’s also left off most of his clothes, sporting only a pair of red swimming trunks and feeling exposed. He would already be sunburnt if it weren’t for the fine protective shell of sand that he always wraps around himself.
He looks around to where Naruto is in his element, surrounded by a large group of squealing kids vying for his regard, effortlessly paying attention to each and every one of them. Gaara has never been at his best with kids, but he concedes that Naruto is a natural. With his wild mane of blond spikes and his orange swimming trunks he is the brightest spot on the beach, a beaming supernova around which everyone orbits whether they are aware of it or not. His second shadow is conspicuously absent, however. Gaara idly wonders where he is, and whether Naruto has managed to convince the sullen Uchiha to unwind for a few hours. He walks amongst Konoha’s people, taking in the happy chatter, eager calls and exuberant greetings, a far cry from the ghost town that had greeted him when he arrived a few days ago – heads down, work done in silence, the only raised voices those of the smaller children who didn’t know any better. Naruto was right; morale couldn’t be higher, and while there are still many faces missing, they do not dampen the spirits as much.
Gaara sees children wherever he turns. A side effect of the war is the many, many war orphans who abound in all the shinobi villages. Most of them still have at least one parent, but orphanages to house them all had been amongst the first domains to be rebuilt. As soon as Naruto had been appointed as the Nanadaime Hokage, he had begun improving their conditions in Konoha. He, better than most, knew what was desperately needed, and what necessities no one under his protection would go without. Gaara has the same issue back in Suna; he copes with it by opening academies left and right, combining housing with lessons. He knows Naruto is working to copy that system – but strangely enough that is somewhat of a sore point for the Hokage.
When Tsunade had learned the truth of the Uchiha massacre over a decade ago, ripped out of a newly returned Sasuke’s unwilling mind by Yamanaka Inoichi’s Mind Borrowing jutsu, she had been livid. A trial had immediately been held where the remaining village elders had been deposed and exiled – Tsunade’s last act as Godaime Hokage before handing off the position to Kakashi for a few years’ safekeeping. However, the Uchiha compound had been seized by the village council a long time before that, leaving Sasuke for all intents and purposes homeless when he had been officially released. The compound had been the perfect size for a number of connected buildings to be raised and used to provide homes for all the kids; the village council had strongly urged Naruto to consider utilising it, but – it had been Sasuke’s home, and Naruto had found it impossible to tear it away from him. Raping his mind for information was one thing, but taking away the only reminder of his family was not something Naruto was capable of doing, and he had told the council so in no uncertain terms.
After the elders had gone, it had taken Sasuke a long time to get himself back together, months and months of futile raging, insomnia, violent nightmares when he had managed to doze, refusing to leave the holding cell – ‘classic symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder’, Sakura had said, and Sasuke had despised her for thinking she could put a name to the raw desolation that was his existence. The only person who had gotten through had been Naruto. At first Sasuke had fought him savagely, leaving both of them bruised and battered – broken bones and torn muscles had not been unusual. Sakura had begged Naruto to stop killing himself, but it had been like talking to the wind – Naruto had smiled sadly, said “I’m sorry, Sakura-chan, I can’t do that”, and kept going back to the holding cell whose door no longer locked.
Some time later – almost a year after Sasuke had come back Naruto had returned a month late from a mission that had only been supposed to last a fortnight. Sasuke had been horrified to realise he’d missed the blond menace. His shutters had slammed down and he had yelled and snarled at him for the entire hour Naruto had visited. He had also been unable to stop glancing at him every few minutes to make sure he was really back, alive and whole. Something had shifted that day for Sasuke; he could not unlearn what had become apparent. Steadily he had got better; another year later he had fought to get reinstated for active duty, because the only thing he knew how to be was a shinobi. His promotion through the ranks had been swift, and by that point, inevitable – it hadn’t taken him long to get where he is now.
***
Gaara’s wander takes him to the outskirts of the clearing – that is where he spots Sasuke, perfectly positioned to react instantly to any threat from the vulnerable forest area. Hyuuga Neji stands tall and collected next to him, long dark hair hanging in a silky sheet down his shoulders and back, calmly nodding in his direction with a murmured ‘Gaara-sama’. Sasuke nods an acknowledgement at him too, but his eyes continue darting from target to target. Gaara notices that his gaze strays most often to the centre where Naruto holds his people’s attention effortlessly, tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight. Naruto seems to sense him looking; he glances up and throws a small but sincere smile at Sasuke, whose eyes glaze slightly and who leans forward unconsciously towards the direction the blond is coming from.
Naruto bounces over, spares a grin for Gaara and Neji, but his eyes are focused on Sasuke.
“Teme, I thought I told you I did not want to see a damned uniform on you today!”
Sasuke raises an eyebrow, looking unruffled at being berated by his commander. “Then where would you suggest I put my kunai and senbon, Hokage-sama?”
“Want me to show you?” Naruto drawls. Sasuke sighs in exasperation.
“Shouldn’t you be getting the surfing competition ready for the genin?” he nods over at the pool.
Naruto turns to look at the kids all lined up with their little boards, and misses Sasuke’s mildly affectionate glance at him. “So I should,” he muses; a moment later he grins broadly. “Hey, hey, teme, I bet I can kick your ass at surfing!” he looks back at him, eyes narrowed in contemplation.
“What, you?” Sasuke smirks. “You couldn’t even stay on the board long enough for it to float.”
Sasuke smiles at the flush of resentment in Naruto’s face, the spat promise of victory now so predictable in their conversations. He follows the comfortable rhythm of their argument with his own insults, sneers, snide remarks until Naruto cracks and—
“That’s it! You’re on! Let’s go!”
—and Sasuke looks down on Naruto with all the condescension his childish challenge deserves. “I’m on duty. And besides, it’s stupid. Who am I proving myself to? You?”
“You just don’t have any swimming trucks, do you? You can borrow a pair of mine—”
“No,” Sasuke counters immediately. The thought of himself in orange swimming trucks is horrifying.
“Scaredy-cat!”
“What are you, four?”
“Fuck, you are so frustrating sometimes!”
“Leave, dead-last.”
“Damn it!” Naruto growls menacingly, kicks viciously at the sand at Sasuke’s feet and stalks away. Sasuke flashes a rare smile at his back, enjoying himself for the first time in weeks.
“Do you wish to tell us something, Sasuke?” Neji enquires dryly.
Sasuke whips his head around to look at him, “What are you talking about?” he asks, his tone a warning in itself.
“I merely assumed that you and Naruto-sama had taken your relationship to the next level,” Neji says candidly and yet as respectful as he’s ever been.
Sasuke scrutinises him carefully; he finds nothing but the barest hints of amiable teasing.
‘And what do you think the next level would be?” he enquires with barely suppressed ire.
“Do you need me to spell it out for you, Sasuke?” Neji smirks, enjoying his friend’s irritation, a sure sign he was getting to him.
“I was asking after your own delusions.”
“Hmm. Could it be that you have no intentions regarding Naruto-sama? Perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I invited him to dinner, then? It has been some time since we’ve had a chance to talk.”
The very idea makes Sasuke nauseous. Neji with his long, pale fingers wrapped around Naruto’s own; Neji smiling into Naruto’s eyes, Neji pressing closer to Naruto to claim a kiss … No. This is not to be allowed to happen. Not if he has anything to say about it.
Neji observes Sasuke’s pallid complexion with satisfaction. Has he at last managed to get the message through to him? If not – then Sasuke is beyond help.
“I would really rather you didn’t, Neji,” Sasuke forces from behind gritted teeth.
“Do I take it that you are going to invite him out in my place?” he asks, hopeful for an end to this charade.
“You can take it however you want, so long as you stay away from him.” Sasuke states calmly. He does not need to palm the hilt of his sword to make his point. He’s sure both Neji and Gaara understand him loud and clear.
“You may wish to keep in mind that Naruto and I used to be in a relationship,” Gaara says suddenly. “I would very much appreciate it if you could make sure that I never have to see a look on his face like the one he would get when he came back after yet another fruitless hunt for you.”
“What look?” Sasuke snaps; he dislikes being lectured, but the calmly stated fact of their relationship rankles even more.
“Like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and trampled. You have been making him miserable with your constant rejections for years, and it needs to stop.”
Sasuke is completely taken aback. “What? I never—“
“Yes, you have. Cast your mind to five minutes ago.”
“I’m on duty! Hokage-sama is not always at his most alert when he’s enjoying himself. Someone has to watch his back.”
“Unless I am very much mistaken, there are three more ANBU guards on duty in the forest trees behind us at this moment. That is no excuse.”
“I don’t want to strut around in a fucking swimsuit!”
Swearing, Gaara thinks. Swearing is good. His shell is cracking.
“You may have noticed that Suna’s Kazekage is, in fact, ‘strutting around in a fucking swimsuit’, and is no less dignified for it,” Neji refutes, earning himself a considering look from the man in question.
“Uchiha, you’ll do it, and you’ll look happy to be there. Am I clear?” Gaara states flatly, having had enough of Sasuke’s evasion.
“Do not presume to tell me what to do in my village, Kazekage-sama,” Sasuke snarls back, infuriated.
When Gaara merely raises his nonexistent eyebrows at him, Sasuke scowls at the two meddling ninjas.
“I’ll do it my way,” he tells them and stalks off purposefully towards the place where Naruto is cheering on the kids from the nearby orphanage compound as they do their best to stay on the boards. Neji looks after him for a bit; then he turns to share another look with Gaara.
“That went well,” he opines. Gaara smirks.
***
As Sasuke nears, he sees three or four of the younger kids lose their balance on the boards and flop over in the water, all of them shrieking with laughter. A nineteen-year-old Konohamaru-sensei watches his own genin team with amusement as they pester him to let them try out. He nods and they’re off; Naruto makes sure to keep the waves as small as before so that the three twelve-year-olds don’t capsize straight away. Sasuke snorts – soft-hearted moron. Naruto looks up, spots him and winks; the next second a friendly wave pushes gently under the surfboards and the kids are floating on its crest, almost passing out with excitement. Naruto sets them down just as gently over the edge of the pool and they run off over to their sensei to brag about how good they are, yelling all the way. Naruto watches them, a faint bittersweet tilt to his lips that Sasuke almost doesn’t catch. Sasuke is sure that he is thinking about his own childhood, so different from the way these kids are growing up, orphans and yet not. Naruto waves to Konohamaru and passes his wave-making duties on to him, then walks over to join Sasuke under the tarp shading a section of the beach, where five or six heavily pregnant civilian ladies and kunoichi are sitting on decking chairs watching the events and chatting idly.
“Changed your mind?” Naruto asks, smiling warmly at him; Sasuke wants to call himself the idiot that he is, because it’s so very obvious how Naruto feels about him when he knows what to look for.
“I was thinking more that you need your ego knocked down a peg for everyone’s good,” he smirks back; Naruto glares at him.
‘What?! You are lecturing me about the size of my ego? Fucking hypocrite! I’m taking you down!”
He grabs Sasuke’s wrist in one large hand and drags him off to the changing rooms on the other side of the clearing, pushing him into the nearest cubicle.
“Strip,” he orders. “I’ll be right back with a pair of swim trunks.”
“Don’t bother, I have mine on,” Sasuke advises and watches Naruto slowly turn red with fury.
“Bastard! I can’t believe you’ve been having me on!”
Sasuke smirks and reaches for the hem of his sleeveless top, tugging it off slowly, revealing a stretch of pale skin. Naruto bushes darkly before resolutely turning his back to him, muttering something about ‘going blind’, and ‘common decency’, and ‘close the damned door’.
Sasuke smirks at the dark pink colour on the back of his neck and ears before tugging the door of the stall closed.
***
Naruto can’t remember the last time he paid so much attention to not tripping. His composure is severely rattled by the way Sasuke prowls at his side, and he thinks he may have an inkling as to why Sasuke did not want to undress. His skin is littered with scars, but this will only encourage all the women who trail behind them surreptitiously. God knows it makes him want to trail his fingers over each of them, to learn their story one by one. He really hopes the teme doesn’t catch him staring – he’ll never let him live it down.
Sasuke walks next to Naruto, pretending not to notice the exaggerated attention the blond pays to his feet and the barely noticeable sideways glances thrown at him from under lowered eyelashes. The sand feels good slipping between his bare toes; Sasuke takes a moment to simply bask in the glorious day, moving fluidly side by side with the one constant presence in his life. The crowd parts for them – two tall, powerful young men enjoying each other’s company. They reach the pool quickly, and Sasuke’s blood already stirs with the thought of competing against his rival after all this time.
“Okay! Everyone, we’re going to have a friendly little competition,” Naruto says, an untamed grin overtaking his face – nobody present believes there’s going to be anything friendly about it.
He outlines the details and conditions of the contest in a long, drawn out speech; Sasuke tunes him out and selects a decent-sized board, aerodynamic enough to please him. He gives it an experimental flex and is happy with the results. He sees Kakashi watching him, raising a suggestive eyebrow and grinning his filthy grin behind the mask; he suppresses the urge to flush. The way Kakashi keeps glancing between him and Naruto is extremely unsettling – hasn’t Kakashi heard of subtlety? Kakashi winks at him with his uncovered eye – Sasuke tries out his best blank look, but it only makes Kakashi actually start laughing. He scowls; he hates being teased as if he were twelve again, especially with Naruto now throwing curious looks at the two of them. He makes a note to get the pervert back for that.
Naruto finishes his rambling, swaggers over to Sasuke looking like he’s won already, and casually signals at Gaara. Gaara doesn’t move, but sand swirls in the air before Naruto and shapes itself in a perfect surfing board, hard enough to hold its shape but soft enough to flow with the water to a perfect speed. He glances slyly at Sasuke, looking far-too-pleased with himself. Sasuke is blindsided for a moment – what is Naruto playing at? For that matter, what the hell is Gaara up to, playing favourites? Sasuke had thought he had made his thoughts on the matter of Naruto quite plain!
Naruto shoots a triumphant smile at Sasuke, delighted with the dark scowl on his face. Sasuke bares his teeth in irritation and pushes him in the pool. This turns out to be a mistake – Naruto latches on to his wrist and pulls him in after him. Sasuke emerges, wet hair unflatteringly stuck to his face, forehead drawn and eyes narrowed in a severe frown at his tormentor. Naruto takes one look at him and falls over laughing, almost swallowing water the wrong way. He sits in the shallow depth and giggles like a toddler, shoulders shaking, spluttering incoherently what Sasuke strongly suspects are insults he should bite his head off for. He makes to walk off –he’s going to be having another chat with Gaara, when Naruto jumps up and grabs his wrist again.
“Oh, no,” he gasps, “you’re not getting away that easily. Come on, teme. Time for a challenge.”
Konohamaru sets off his Wind jutsu again, much stronger than when Naruto was casting it for the kids earlier. Two-metre-high waves flow on the surface and the two of them jump right in, swimming deeper as fast as they can. Naruto is the first to try balancing on top of his sand-board, but he’s misjudged – he yelps loudly and disappears under the foaming waves not three seconds after. Sasuke spares him a glance to check if he’s okay. Noticing the blond head reappear, hair flattened and eyes determined, he returns his mind to the challenge. He bides his time much better than his rival, Sharingan whirling, selecting the perfect wave with ease. He flips to standing on top of the board, channelling a little chakra to the soles of his feet to help him stabilise and stay up easier. Naruto yells a protest and copies him, crouching slightly from the speed.
Sasuke’s knees are only slightly bent; his chakra control perfect, he judges the speed and angle of landing with every movement. Naruto catches up to him in moments and whoops in exhilaration, the wind making his spiky hair flop against his head, grinning so wide it almost splits his face in two. Sasuke can’t find it in himself to begrudge him the pleasure, so he decides not to knock him over as he had planned to, but let him enjoy the ride.
As Sasuke had known it would happen, they reach the shore at the same time and in the same position. Naruto winks at him and, with a burst of wind chakra, accelerates to pass him at the last moment. Sasuke would be livid if Naruto had not miscalculated again – the wind spurs him on slightly too well and he sails over the sand to bury himself head-first in the nearest sand dune. Sasuke steps off his own board calmly and struggles not to laugh as he watches Naruto battle to re-emerge to a chorus of giggling from every kid present. He finally steps out with sand trailing from every part of his body, but Sasuke sees to his pleasure that he’s still grinning.
“Brilliant,” he laughs. “I win!”
“Yes, yes,” Sasuke waves him off. Naruto sends him a smaller, self-depreciating smile that seems to be saved just for him; warmth suffuses his chest again, and he lets it.
***
The next day it’s time for a sandcastle-building competition, and Sasuke is back to wearing his ANBU uniform; he has left the protective breastplate off in honour of the occasion. He feels secure enough in his preparations to let it go – there are three other trusted ANBU members on guard around the beach-clearing.
Naruto has assigned Gai to lifeguarding duties today, which is doubly effective – Gai is in his element, and people are very, very careful not to go into the water too deep and put themselves in danger – nobody wants Gai’s muscled presence bearing down on them full-speed, yelling reassurances of imminent restoration of their youthful force. Naruto wishes he’d thought of that yesterday; Sai says nothing but sets up his easel, capturing Gai as a bird of prey mid-flight and ignoring the dozens of kids gathered behind him, curiously looking on as he flicks his brush incessantly.
There are teams of kids and adults, some mixed and some not, standing ready by the many small piles of sand that Gaara set up before dawn, looking determined and glaring around at their competition. All eight genin teams of the current generation have turned up to compete against each other, their senseis looking on from the sidelines. There are smaller, pre-genin kids, too, taking part with their parents. At the signal each team dives in the sand piles; a cloud of dust flies into the air. Some of the teams attempt to work with chakra – the eldest Hyuuga boy doing particularly well, while some are not so successful – the youngest Inuzuka girl has to be dug out by her dog and dragged out of the hole she’s made by her frowning teammates.
Naruto parades the lines, dressed in a lightweight mesh shirt and his usual orange trousers and white Hokage coat. Whenever he passes a team, they stand to attention like soldiers; at his warm smiles they relax and preen like the kids they really are. Sasuke shakes his head. The Nanadaime Hokage commands not only his people’s respect, but their love, too – that is why he is just as strong, if not stronger than his predecessors.
“Okay, I’m leaving the rest to you, now,” he announces. “You have another ninety minutes to complete your projects before me and Kazekage-sama come back to determine the winners.” An increase in frenzied activity follows this statement while Naruto makes his way over to the food stands.
Unsurprisingly, every single proprietor of a catering establishment in the village is out here, from dango stands, to barbeque, to ice cream and candyfloss, to Ichiraku’s ramen, where Naruto has a free all-you-can-eat pass from the old man himself for the duration of the festival. Sasuke reminds himself to at least try to limit the damage Naruto is going to wreck on Ichiraku’s supplies. God knows Chouji and his youngest nephew are already having a good go at decimating the barbeque stand, but he’s paying for it.
Jounin and chuunin are everywhere, making the most of this impromptu holiday and milling amongst the civilians, catching up with friends. Many of them are lounging in the sun, playing cards, and chess, and go, and backgammon very loudly, as is their habit. There are bottles of sake in practically every place that two or more people are sitting together, but Sasuke supposes they deserve it after a whole year of working hard to preserve Konoha’s integrity and prosperity.
While Sasuke’s been looking around, Naruto has already put away two bowls of ramen and is making progress on his third under the smiling eyes of old man Ichiraku. Ayame winks at Sasuke when he meanders over, placing a bowl of tomato ramen before him with a smile.
“On the house,” she says, but he shakes his head.
“You’re in enough trouble with this one as it is,” he says, nodding over at the slurping Naruto on his left.
“Hey!” Naruto protests, mouth still full.
“Honestly, Uchiha-san, it’s no trouble. We’ll hardly notice it with the amount Hokage-sama puts away.”
Sasuke nods in thanks and digs in – it’s long since gone lunchtime, and he’s ravenous.
When three other patrons make their way to the stand, Naruto shifts closer to Sasuke to make space for them. His thigh is warm where it slides firmly against Sasuke’s while he makes himself comfortable. Sasuke feels himself flush slightly at the ease with which Naruto acts around him – like they have been a couple for years when he’s only just realised being with him is even possible. He presses back, tentatively, and Naruto pauses in stuffing his face to smile at him happily. He can’t quite stop the answering smile that curves his lips when he looks at the blond, sitting next to him like nothing has changed since they were twelve and yet minding his white Hokage coat so carefully, still unused to the weight of it. Sasuke cannot remember a time when he has felt this content.
Then one of the customers trips and jostles Naruto as he exits, turning to apologise profusely at his Hokage. Naruto removes himself from Sasuke’s arms which have tightened automatically around him, and smiles benevolently at the man assuring him he is fine. Sasuke’s chest tingles where Naruto’s warm weight had settled for those brief moments. His fingers twitch, wanting to tug Naruto closer again; but Naruto has already turned back to his first love that is ramen, and pays him no attention.
***
The judging of the sandcastle-building competition is a momentous occasion. The children are suitably in awe of Hokage-sama’s grave expression and Kazekage-sama’s considering look, fairly shaking with anticipation and nervousness. Sasuke is impressed by the variety – there are castles with spirals and leaves etched into their turrets, others with actual ninjas keeping guard, there’s even a team who has a half-naked shinobi climbing out of the window of their sand villa – sure enough, they are Konohamaru’s crew, the cheeky monkeys. There are magnificent towers weaved with sand flowers and vines, villas guarded by giant dogs, even a copy of the Hokage monument, Naruto’s grinning face featuring prominently at the end with the six whisker marks etched deeply into his cheeks. There are birds with every feather lovingly chiselled, giant hydras, a heavily reinforced fortress and even a fountain letting forth sand every few seconds.
Naruto has to make four passes around the entries before coming to a decision. He is distracted and deep in thought, though Gaara can see that he’s not really thinking about the competition they are judging. When Gaara has to remind him for the second time which three entries are their top choices, he knows something isn’t quite right and looks at him more carefully. Naruto keeps touching his right arm, as if there is something that bothers him, but Gaara sees no change in the fluidity of his movements so it can’t be from pain or discomfort. It’s as if he fell against something and can’t get away from the feel of it.
“Everything okay?” Gaara murmurs softly, but Naruto starts as if he has yelled in his ear.
“Yes! Fine!” he answers, too quickly, but Gaara lets it go for the moment.
First prize goes to a gorgeous rendition of a phoenix by Nara Shiomi, Hyuuga Hisae and Sarutobi Kazuki, the genin team that Naruto had bullied Tenten into taking on. The two girls and one boy are beside themselves with glee; Naruto bestows a beautiful scroll upon their team, on which Sai has very quickly sketched a stylised rendition of their flaming bird. Gaara shakes each of them by the hand, looking grave – the kids are utterly in awe of him and dare only speak timid ‘thank-you-Kazekage-sama’-s to his congratulations.
***
That evening, members of the Hokage’s advisory committee gather at the Hokage tower to plan out the upcoming festival four days from now. They decide that the clearing should be returned to its previous condition and stalls can be erected there the night before. The sixth and seventh day will be entirely reserved for the festival. Hinata is delegated the organisation of activities for the children, with Sai to help her. Naruto still can’t get over how well those two are getting on – the soft-spoken Hyuuga heiress seems to know just what to say to make the social outcast feel less alienated; he in turn is devoted to her for her unfailing kindness to everyone she meets regardless of rank or ability, which he does not understand but appreciates nonetheless.
Chouji takes over the catering organisation, naturally; no-one else can do a more thorough job of sorting out which stand should go where. For the circus coming into Konoha on the sixth day, lent to them by the Land of the Moon’s Prince Hikaru, Naruto chooses Kiba to take care of everything they should need.
“Just because I’m an Inuzuka does not mean that I like any other animals besides our dogs, you know!” Kiba grumbles, put-out.
“But you’re the only one who knows what they might need, though. Go on, take one for the team,” Naruto urges and the rest nod. Kiba, outnumbered, sulkily agrees.
“Tell you what,” Naruto says when he sees this, “I’ll build you that training enclosure you’ve been hampering on about in exchange.”
Kiba brightens immediately.
Some time later, duties divided, the meeting breaks up. As soon as everyone but Sasuke’s gone, Naruto yawns widely and stretches. “Crap, that was a long day,” he mumbles.
Sasuke agrees – he’s exhausted himself.
“Do you want a drink?” Naruto asks, so casually that Sasuke almost misses the nervous flicker of eyes in his direction.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, dobe,” Sasuke tells him reluctantly. He hates to say no to him, but it would be a really bad idea to lower their inhibitions further at this point in time when they are already so tired. “I’m on duty tonight,” he adds to make the rejection less abrupt.
“Another time, maybe,” Naruto shrugs dismissively. Sasuke isn’t fooled – he sees the way his refusal makes Naruto hunch his shoulders inwards. It makes Sasuke hate himself.
Naruto bids him goodnight in a husky voice that rushes straight to Sasuke’s groin. With another yawn that almost dislocates his jaw, he wanders off up the stairs to his bedroom.
Sasuke doesn’t head home – he’s on first watch; even as tired as he is he won’t be swapping with anyone else. The ANBU are on a tight rotation this week, four members covering all the weak points while their comrades rest up a little. Second and third watch at Hokage tower belong to Tortoise and Rabbit, so he only technically has until midnight to go until he gets relieved. Utterly silent, Uchiha Sasuke withdraws his mask – Hawk slips it over his face. He drops out of the Hokage tower’s eastern window, disappearing into the falling darkness.
***
It was raining again. It often rained in his dreams. The thunder of the nearby waterfall covered the sound the raindrops made when they splattered over his face, almost blinding him, making it hard to breathe. His body hurt so bad – he looked down, taking in all the blood soaking through his shirt and into the muddy ground underneath. His chest was ripped open, a fist-sized hole all the way through. His heart was broken; he could see the two halves plain as day, held together by nothing but a thin red thread. He turned his head with some effort, looked to his side. He saw a pair of feet standing very close. Someone waiting to finish the job, perhaps? He knew he was dead anyway, could not live without the other half of his heart; and that had walked away from him just like those feet were turning around and walking away. The barely-there red line stretched from the halves of his heart to the man’s hand, wrapping around the fist. He knew that if that man chose to, he could repair his heart as if it had never been broken, or break him altogether.
The man hesitated, looked back – a pair of dark eyes bore into his from behind a wet fringe of black hair. The eyes were cold; they seared through his soul. He tried to call out – he wanted the man to come back. He needed the man to come back so he could carry on living. If the man went away, well, he might as well let go right there, in this godforsaken valley at the end of the world. His voice came out in a croak, tears streaming down his throat, desperate.
“S-Sasuke …”
The man turned, but did not come back. He waited.
“Please don’t—“ was as far as he got before the man’s eyes narrowed as he took hold of the line and tugged, stretching it far-too-tight …
***
Hawk watches his Hokage sleep. He takes in the open face, slack in relaxation; the blond eyelashes, fluttering on his cheeks as he dreams; the finely muscled body, at rest for once. This man, to whom he has been connected since the day he was born. This man, whom he has saved twice – who has saved Hawk back more times than he can count. This man, who had kept Hawk going even when he had hated him, whom he failed to kill so many times. This man, who is the reason for everything Hawk does, from the moment he wakes to the rare moments he sleeps. The man whom Hawk loves, who commands his every muscle, every thought. Should Hawk let him know? He does not need the complication, that’s for sure – he’s Hokage-sama, he has an image to uphold. Hawk stands guard anyway – he will stand guard over him until the moment either dies. There was a time when he had turning his back on this man, left him behind, not caring about the things that broke and bled in a place he no longer belonged. He cannot imagine doing so now.
His Hokage shifts slightly in his sleep, burrowing his head into his pillow. His breath is coming more rapidly than it had a minute ago, but he is still unconscious. Hawk looks at the moon and listens – a faint hoot signals that the presence he feels is the arrival of the ANBU officer on second watch. Hawk takes a final glance at the Hokage and, sure he is as safe as can be, he silently shimmers to the Hokage tower’s roof.
“All clear,” Hawk reports. “It’s been a silent night so far.”
“Copy that,” Tortoise says softly. “Get some rest, Hawk, you look tired. I’ll take over now.”
Hawk nods and disappears, only to reappear back where he had been a minute ago, chakra tightly shielded. His subordinates don’t know that he spends his nights right here, alert for any sound out of place. His training to sleep with one eye open, get as much rest as he can while still remaining vigilant, dates back almost a decade – it is child’s play for him by now. He trusts his men with his life, but not with the life of his Hokage-sama, not when he knows better than anyone just how fragile he really is beyond the Kyuubi’s powers of healing. It would take very little to break this indestructible man – just a tiny seed of doubt planted in the right place.
The sleeping form stirs; Hawk stays where he is. Hokage-sama has nightmares sometimes, but he wakes quickly enough, no doubt the Kyuubi sensing its host’s distress and rousing him straight away. This time is different, though.
“Sasuke,” Hokage-sama gasps, the sound barely making it out of his dry throat. He reaches towards Hawk, patently still asleep. “Sasuke, please,” he begs in a broken voice.
Hawk cannot stay out here any longer. He cannot leave, either, not when his Hokage is calling for him. He takes a step forward, closer than he’s ever been to the interior of this room. Another leap and he’s inside, a dark shadow blocking the light from the window. The sleeping man chokes, desperately reaching for him. Before Hawk knows it he’s at the bed, taking the Hokage’s hand in his gloved one. The hand grips him hard, almost cutting off his circulation. It tugs him forward; he is caught off-guard, pulled to kneel on the bed beside him.
“Sasuke,” Naruto pleads hoarsely.
“I’m here,” Hawk finds himself saying. “I’m here, Hokage-sama.”
Hokage-sama frowns, still asleep. “Sasuke,” he insists.
Hawk reaches up with his free hand and tugs his mask off. Sasuke slumps over the corner of the bed where he’s kneeling. “I’m here, Naruto.” His own voice is just as hoarse.
“Don’t leave, Sasuke. Please don’t leave me again.”
Sasuke stares down at him. It’s very dark in the room, but he can see Naruto’s eyes are still closed tightly. He wonders what Naruto could be dreaming of, to keep him from waking, to make him this desperate for him. He wonders if he can promise something that would trap him in this village for the rest of his life, tie him so firmly to its people and their leader. He never thought he would be facing this choice in his lifetime; he expected to die long ago, taking this village with him. Still, Konoha has been changing, improving, evolving into a village where Itachi would never have been forced to make that sacrifice, where his father would never have contemplated staging a coup d’état in the first place. A village they would have been proud to be a part of, live in, give their lives for. If he is honest with himself, he has made his choice long ago.
“I won’t,” he murmurs, saying it out loud for the first time. He chose this man. He always will. Saying it makes the choice real; he won’t back out of a promise freely made. For the first time, it doesn’t leave the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth. It feels like a fresh start instead.
He makes to let go of the hand so he can move to a chair, but it holds on tight; Naruto makes a distressed sound in the back of his throat. Sighing, Sasuke shifts and curls up at the corner of the bed over the sheets, trying not to jostle him enough to wake up. Naruto’s breathing slows and eases; a faint smile curves his lips. He inhales deeply, lets it out in a long sigh. “Sasuke,” he murmurs, and is silent for the rest of the night. Sasuke spends the hours looking at him, memorising his face, his scent, the breath falling over his face, the feel of his body so close to his. He doesn’t touch him but for the hand holding his, which Naruto tugs further across and curls his body around, as if afraid it would disappear if he doesn’t hold on to it as tight as he can. The sleeping man’s chest rises and falls along his arm, heat warming him like his very own furnace.
He contemplates all the twists and turns that have led him here, to this bed, even if he’s not entirely permitted to be in it, not consciously. That is why he does not touch Naruto any more than he is already. When he does, he wants Naruto to be awake for it, to want it, to need it the way he needs Naruto’s touch to make him feel whole.
Naruto turns, still clutching at his hand; the moonlight falls on his bare chest. The skin is smooth, toned, unblemished, but Sasuke can easily imagine the ragged-edged hole that had once been there.
Part Two
sirona_gsTitle: All things of dearest value hang on slender strings
Rating: R
Word count: ~8,900 this part, ~15,900 overall
Summary: Nothing sours a village’s mood faster than a heatwave, and with the anniversary of the Fourth Ninja War on the horizon, the Nanadaime Hokage knows something must be done about it. That’s where Sabaku no Gaara comes in, but Sasuke is not best pleased with his involvement.
Warnings: m/m sex, implied past torture
A/N: This was written for the (sadly) last round of the
sn_exchange, for kitarin. Enormous thanks go to aurrai for being an amazing beta, cheerleader and slavedriver in equal parts. She is truly a saint for having put up with me and put so much of herself into this story. The title comes from a quote by Edmund Waller.All things of dearest value hang on slender strings
It’s hot. Sweat is gathering at Naruto’s hairline, at his neck, at the base of his back where his Hokage robes won’t let the air in. Opposite him Gaara sits impassively and though Naruto imagines he’s used to the heat, he can still see a thin shine above his lip that means the weather is unbearable, even to the Kazekage.
Naruto knows they are not the only two people suffering. Konoha has been blanketed by the nastiest heat wave in recent memory and many people are floundering under its oppressive humidity. What Naruto wouldn’t give for a swim! This weather is good for nothing other than lounging somewhere on a beach, working on one’s suntan, he thinks idly.
Naruto’s thoughts drift, as they have often done the past few days, to the upcoming anniversary of the war. He knows that he is not the only one brooding and that it’s more than the heat that has the village subdued. ‘Too many gaps in the weave of familiar faces,’ is what Neji says, and Naruto knows he’s right. He is aware that he has recently started to focus more on the gaps than on the people actually there; he doesn’t like it. It’s not what Ero-sennin would have wanted, being mourned to the extent that it takes over his entire life, turning all enjoyment to ashes. Something needs to be done; as Hokage it falls on him to figure out what that something is. He has a number of advisors on all matters; surely someone can come up with something reasonable?
He sighs silently. This is not how he imagined his job as Hokage would be, and he wonders what Shizune had to do to keep Tsunade focused in meetings during her time as Godaime. These are peaceful times, however – he would go through a hundred more of these meetings if it ensured the safety and prosperity of his people. He has grown enough to understand that the more bored he is, the less trouble the village gets into. While he is not above complaining about it, he relishes it as the reminder it is – they have won, the war is over.
“You are thinking again,” Gaara observes, bringing Naruto’s musings to a stuttering halt.
“So I am,” he chuckles apologetically and rubs at the back of his hair, embarrassed at zoning out. He turns back to face Gaara, the slight breeze from the open window at his back teasing the damp hair at his nape. “Sorry about that. I’m not used to this sort of weather. I wish—“
Naruto seems to freeze for a moment, his eyes glazing slightly, and then he turns to look at Gaara with unrestrained excitement on his face. Gaara knows that look.
“I have an idea …” Naruto starts, but Gaara already knows that he does. He lifts an enquiring eyebrow, a feel of trepidation coming over him at the sight of Naruto’s twinkling eyes.
“How about we have a beach party?”
“A beach party,” Gaara repeats flatly.
“Yeah! A beach party. And Yamato-sensei can build a wooden swimming pool, and we can have the kids try surfing, and build sandcastles – and we can have a proper festival! A week-long festival! Maybe I could ask Prince Hikaru to lend us the Land of the Moon’s circus …”
Gaara will regret interrupting – “Have you forgotten where we are? Where are you going to get all this water and sand from?” – because the Nanadaime Hokage is now looking in his direction with a determined little sly smile at his mouth.
“You mean who am I going to get all this water and sand from.”
Gaara turns his gaze to stare pointedly at the window and Naruto doesn’t say anymore. He doesn’t need to. The heavy feel of the air and the gloomy mood of the people are things Gaara understands. In his own village he would have shaded them in a shield of sand; the duty of the Kage to provide for the needs of their subjects is something else he understands.
Gaara slides his focus away from the cloudless sky outside and with a sigh asks, “So who’s the water coming from?” and is not the least bit surprised that Naruto already has all of it planned.
Ino quickly drafts a short scroll to announce the event to the villagers. The result is everything Naruto had hoped for – as if a current passing through a livewire, the news makes the village shake off its detached frame of mind. Laughter is heard again, not just amongst the children, as everyone speculates on what activities there will be. Naruto and his advisors have decided that the daily itinery will be announced each morning in order to keep up the anticipation – the list of events will be read out an hour past sunrise, and everyone would be able to see if they have guessed correctly from seeing the enclosures that would be raised each night. Naturally, the Hokage and Kazekage will preside over many of these, and Naruto makes a note to have some prizes made out for the winners.
He is sitting in his office that afternoon, a mass of clones doing his paperwork behind him while he listens to Sakura wrapping up her report of the past fortnight at the hospital, when a whisper in the corner of the room signals the arrival of his ANBU captain. The fact that neither he nor Sakura can see him is irrelevant; the feel of his chakra is inscribed over both their hearts. There had been a time when they had feared they would never feel it again; or if they did, that it would be the final time. The novelty has yet to wear off even after five years.
Once Hawk is certain that the room is secure he steps forward as silently as he arrives. He reaches for his mask and tugs it off; Sasuke’s black eyes pin them to where they stand.
“Mission complete,” he murmurs softly.
“Hey, teme,” Naruto throws out casually, but his eyes drift over Sasuke from head to toe looking for anything out of place. When they find nothing, he relaxes imperceptibly. “Good to know. So, while you were away, I came up with the most awesome idea! We’re going to have a beach festival!”
Sasuke blinks in confusion. It’s always a little difficult throwing off his ‘mission’ frame of mind, and Naruto’s lightning-fast mood changes do not make the transition any easier.
“A beach party,” he says flatly.
Naruto huffs. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” he asks, sounding put-upon.
Sasuke raises an eyebrow at the outburst, but decides not to ask. “Did you miss the part where there are no beaches anywhere near here?”
“Oh, I got that covered!” Naruto says, waving a hand dismissively. “Gaara’s making one for us! I talked him into it this morning!”
Sasuke says nothing; he imagines he could recount that conversation fairly accurately even without having heard it. It is a good idea, he thinks, not least because it will get Naruto to relax a little. He imagines that being Hokage could get a little overbearing, especially with a certain date looming on the horizon. He smiles slightly, just a twitch of the lips.
“Did you make sure to warn Iruka-sensei before you announced it to the village, so he would be able to manage the bunch of over-excited pre-genin?”
“Kakashi did that,” Sakura says flatly. She observes him coolly, assessing for mission damage while at the same time giving nothing of her thoughts away. Their relationship has been … strained since he came back. He doesn’t quite know how to fix it; doesn’t know if he wants to.
He sees Naruto’s smile dim slightly and amends his thought – he doesn’t care about Sakura’s attitude except it upsets the dobe, so he probably will be doing something about it. He just hopes it isn’t one of those things broken beyond repair.
It’s difficult for him to see Naruto pretend not to be bothered by it, so he changes the topic – asks for details on the planned festival so that he can organise its defence. It’s then that Naruto drops his bombshell.
“I’ve issued a village-wide order for the cancellation of all missions and training over the one-week period. Everyone needs a break, and they can’t do that if they have work to worry about. I strongly suggest that you follow that guideline for ANBU.”
“Naruto, you know I can’t protect us adequately if I give all my men the time off. It is simply not feasible.”
An unseen but familiar voice enters the conversation then. “It can be done, however, on a skeleton crew of guards. It has been done before. Consider a four-man twenty-four-hour rotation, Sasuke. That way you can give most of the men at least three of the days completely off. We can’t afford to have a bunch of high-strung ANBU shinobi on our hands.” The voice comes from outside the window; it does not shock anyone – Kakashi has not bothered to shield his chakra from his former students for some time now. While he likes keeping them on their toes, it is not nearly as easy as it used to be.
Sasuke nods thoughtfully. “Yes, that would work. Very well, Hokage-sama, I will arrange for it.”
“I’ve told you time and time again; for fuck’s sake stop calling me that!”
“But it’s what you are. It’s what you’ve worked all your life to achieve.”
“Yeah, but the way you say it, it always sounds so damn sarcastic! I feel like you mock me all the time.” He bares his teeth in affront.
Sasuke smirks. It’s true that he can’t quite bring himself to say it with a straight face, but the dobe deserves the respectful title, he’s undoubtedly earned it. He should consider it a compliment Sasuke uses it at all.
“As Hokage-sama commands,” he says just to needle the idiot; he never gets tired of the way Naruto’s eyes narrow and his lips draw back in a snarl.
“Bastard,” Naruto hisses, but he’s smiling. Sasuke considers that a minor victory and moves on.
Later that evening when the sun is no longer baking the air, Gaara makes his way sedately over to the designated area listening to an overexcited Naruto yammer away in his ear. Yamato is already there, as are Gai and Lee, determined to give their best efforts to help set up this ‘admirable and noble youthful venture’. Gaara makes a few hand seals nobody out of Suna has seen and pretends not to notice when Uchiha’s Sharingan flares from his place just behind Naruto. Sand gathers in huge waves around them, smoothing over the broad grassy clearing and shaping itself into a large beach, complete with five small sand dunes. He steps back, satisfied.
Yamato moves forward next – several minutes later a large wooden enclosure is dug in at ground level, and he easily siphons water from the nearby waterfall to fill it up. The makeshift pool looks sturdy enough so Naruto tries out a Wind jutsu on it, raising meter-high waves with ease.
“That should be good enough for the surfing contest!” he exclaims happily.
“Yosh!” Lee shouts. “I challenge you, Gaara-sama, my eternal rival, to find out who can stay up the longest on a single wave! If I do not win, I shall swim eight hundred laps of the pool by sundown!”
“You’ve created a monster,” Yamato says wearily to Gai, who is beaming with pride at his beloved student.
Gaara looks at Lee’s excited face and gently sighs in exasperation.
The sand is scorching under Gaara’s bare feet the next morning; he’s not used to it doing that. He’s not used to not wearing sandals, either, but Naruto has pestering down to a fine art and he’s never been able to refuse him much, no matter how idiotic, not when it makes him this happy. As a result he’s left his gourd in his room – not that he needs it with this much sand readily available. He’s also left off most of his clothes, sporting only a pair of red swimming trunks and feeling exposed. He would already be sunburnt if it weren’t for the fine protective shell of sand that he always wraps around himself.
He looks around to where Naruto is in his element, surrounded by a large group of squealing kids vying for his regard, effortlessly paying attention to each and every one of them. Gaara has never been at his best with kids, but he concedes that Naruto is a natural. With his wild mane of blond spikes and his orange swimming trunks he is the brightest spot on the beach, a beaming supernova around which everyone orbits whether they are aware of it or not. His second shadow is conspicuously absent, however. Gaara idly wonders where he is, and whether Naruto has managed to convince the sullen Uchiha to unwind for a few hours. He walks amongst Konoha’s people, taking in the happy chatter, eager calls and exuberant greetings, a far cry from the ghost town that had greeted him when he arrived a few days ago – heads down, work done in silence, the only raised voices those of the smaller children who didn’t know any better. Naruto was right; morale couldn’t be higher, and while there are still many faces missing, they do not dampen the spirits as much.
Gaara sees children wherever he turns. A side effect of the war is the many, many war orphans who abound in all the shinobi villages. Most of them still have at least one parent, but orphanages to house them all had been amongst the first domains to be rebuilt. As soon as Naruto had been appointed as the Nanadaime Hokage, he had begun improving their conditions in Konoha. He, better than most, knew what was desperately needed, and what necessities no one under his protection would go without. Gaara has the same issue back in Suna; he copes with it by opening academies left and right, combining housing with lessons. He knows Naruto is working to copy that system – but strangely enough that is somewhat of a sore point for the Hokage.
When Tsunade had learned the truth of the Uchiha massacre over a decade ago, ripped out of a newly returned Sasuke’s unwilling mind by Yamanaka Inoichi’s Mind Borrowing jutsu, she had been livid. A trial had immediately been held where the remaining village elders had been deposed and exiled – Tsunade’s last act as Godaime Hokage before handing off the position to Kakashi for a few years’ safekeeping. However, the Uchiha compound had been seized by the village council a long time before that, leaving Sasuke for all intents and purposes homeless when he had been officially released. The compound had been the perfect size for a number of connected buildings to be raised and used to provide homes for all the kids; the village council had strongly urged Naruto to consider utilising it, but – it had been Sasuke’s home, and Naruto had found it impossible to tear it away from him. Raping his mind for information was one thing, but taking away the only reminder of his family was not something Naruto was capable of doing, and he had told the council so in no uncertain terms.
After the elders had gone, it had taken Sasuke a long time to get himself back together, months and months of futile raging, insomnia, violent nightmares when he had managed to doze, refusing to leave the holding cell – ‘classic symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder’, Sakura had said, and Sasuke had despised her for thinking she could put a name to the raw desolation that was his existence. The only person who had gotten through had been Naruto. At first Sasuke had fought him savagely, leaving both of them bruised and battered – broken bones and torn muscles had not been unusual. Sakura had begged Naruto to stop killing himself, but it had been like talking to the wind – Naruto had smiled sadly, said “I’m sorry, Sakura-chan, I can’t do that”, and kept going back to the holding cell whose door no longer locked.
Some time later – almost a year after Sasuke had come back Naruto had returned a month late from a mission that had only been supposed to last a fortnight. Sasuke had been horrified to realise he’d missed the blond menace. His shutters had slammed down and he had yelled and snarled at him for the entire hour Naruto had visited. He had also been unable to stop glancing at him every few minutes to make sure he was really back, alive and whole. Something had shifted that day for Sasuke; he could not unlearn what had become apparent. Steadily he had got better; another year later he had fought to get reinstated for active duty, because the only thing he knew how to be was a shinobi. His promotion through the ranks had been swift, and by that point, inevitable – it hadn’t taken him long to get where he is now.
Gaara’s wander takes him to the outskirts of the clearing – that is where he spots Sasuke, perfectly positioned to react instantly to any threat from the vulnerable forest area. Hyuuga Neji stands tall and collected next to him, long dark hair hanging in a silky sheet down his shoulders and back, calmly nodding in his direction with a murmured ‘Gaara-sama’. Sasuke nods an acknowledgement at him too, but his eyes continue darting from target to target. Gaara notices that his gaze strays most often to the centre where Naruto holds his people’s attention effortlessly, tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight. Naruto seems to sense him looking; he glances up and throws a small but sincere smile at Sasuke, whose eyes glaze slightly and who leans forward unconsciously towards the direction the blond is coming from.
Naruto bounces over, spares a grin for Gaara and Neji, but his eyes are focused on Sasuke.
“Teme, I thought I told you I did not want to see a damned uniform on you today!”
Sasuke raises an eyebrow, looking unruffled at being berated by his commander. “Then where would you suggest I put my kunai and senbon, Hokage-sama?”
“Want me to show you?” Naruto drawls. Sasuke sighs in exasperation.
“Shouldn’t you be getting the surfing competition ready for the genin?” he nods over at the pool.
Naruto turns to look at the kids all lined up with their little boards, and misses Sasuke’s mildly affectionate glance at him. “So I should,” he muses; a moment later he grins broadly. “Hey, hey, teme, I bet I can kick your ass at surfing!” he looks back at him, eyes narrowed in contemplation.
“What, you?” Sasuke smirks. “You couldn’t even stay on the board long enough for it to float.”
Sasuke smiles at the flush of resentment in Naruto’s face, the spat promise of victory now so predictable in their conversations. He follows the comfortable rhythm of their argument with his own insults, sneers, snide remarks until Naruto cracks and—
“That’s it! You’re on! Let’s go!”
—and Sasuke looks down on Naruto with all the condescension his childish challenge deserves. “I’m on duty. And besides, it’s stupid. Who am I proving myself to? You?”
“You just don’t have any swimming trucks, do you? You can borrow a pair of mine—”
“No,” Sasuke counters immediately. The thought of himself in orange swimming trucks is horrifying.
“Scaredy-cat!”
“What are you, four?”
“Fuck, you are so frustrating sometimes!”
“Leave, dead-last.”
“Damn it!” Naruto growls menacingly, kicks viciously at the sand at Sasuke’s feet and stalks away. Sasuke flashes a rare smile at his back, enjoying himself for the first time in weeks.
“Do you wish to tell us something, Sasuke?” Neji enquires dryly.
Sasuke whips his head around to look at him, “What are you talking about?” he asks, his tone a warning in itself.
“I merely assumed that you and Naruto-sama had taken your relationship to the next level,” Neji says candidly and yet as respectful as he’s ever been.
Sasuke scrutinises him carefully; he finds nothing but the barest hints of amiable teasing.
‘And what do you think the next level would be?” he enquires with barely suppressed ire.
“Do you need me to spell it out for you, Sasuke?” Neji smirks, enjoying his friend’s irritation, a sure sign he was getting to him.
“I was asking after your own delusions.”
“Hmm. Could it be that you have no intentions regarding Naruto-sama? Perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I invited him to dinner, then? It has been some time since we’ve had a chance to talk.”
The very idea makes Sasuke nauseous. Neji with his long, pale fingers wrapped around Naruto’s own; Neji smiling into Naruto’s eyes, Neji pressing closer to Naruto to claim a kiss … No. This is not to be allowed to happen. Not if he has anything to say about it.
Neji observes Sasuke’s pallid complexion with satisfaction. Has he at last managed to get the message through to him? If not – then Sasuke is beyond help.
“I would really rather you didn’t, Neji,” Sasuke forces from behind gritted teeth.
“Do I take it that you are going to invite him out in my place?” he asks, hopeful for an end to this charade.
“You can take it however you want, so long as you stay away from him.” Sasuke states calmly. He does not need to palm the hilt of his sword to make his point. He’s sure both Neji and Gaara understand him loud and clear.
“You may wish to keep in mind that Naruto and I used to be in a relationship,” Gaara says suddenly. “I would very much appreciate it if you could make sure that I never have to see a look on his face like the one he would get when he came back after yet another fruitless hunt for you.”
“What look?” Sasuke snaps; he dislikes being lectured, but the calmly stated fact of their relationship rankles even more.
“Like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and trampled. You have been making him miserable with your constant rejections for years, and it needs to stop.”
Sasuke is completely taken aback. “What? I never—“
“Yes, you have. Cast your mind to five minutes ago.”
“I’m on duty! Hokage-sama is not always at his most alert when he’s enjoying himself. Someone has to watch his back.”
“Unless I am very much mistaken, there are three more ANBU guards on duty in the forest trees behind us at this moment. That is no excuse.”
“I don’t want to strut around in a fucking swimsuit!”
Swearing, Gaara thinks. Swearing is good. His shell is cracking.
“You may have noticed that Suna’s Kazekage is, in fact, ‘strutting around in a fucking swimsuit’, and is no less dignified for it,” Neji refutes, earning himself a considering look from the man in question.
“Uchiha, you’ll do it, and you’ll look happy to be there. Am I clear?” Gaara states flatly, having had enough of Sasuke’s evasion.
“Do not presume to tell me what to do in my village, Kazekage-sama,” Sasuke snarls back, infuriated.
When Gaara merely raises his nonexistent eyebrows at him, Sasuke scowls at the two meddling ninjas.
“I’ll do it my way,” he tells them and stalks off purposefully towards the place where Naruto is cheering on the kids from the nearby orphanage compound as they do their best to stay on the boards. Neji looks after him for a bit; then he turns to share another look with Gaara.
“That went well,” he opines. Gaara smirks.
As Sasuke nears, he sees three or four of the younger kids lose their balance on the boards and flop over in the water, all of them shrieking with laughter. A nineteen-year-old Konohamaru-sensei watches his own genin team with amusement as they pester him to let them try out. He nods and they’re off; Naruto makes sure to keep the waves as small as before so that the three twelve-year-olds don’t capsize straight away. Sasuke snorts – soft-hearted moron. Naruto looks up, spots him and winks; the next second a friendly wave pushes gently under the surfboards and the kids are floating on its crest, almost passing out with excitement. Naruto sets them down just as gently over the edge of the pool and they run off over to their sensei to brag about how good they are, yelling all the way. Naruto watches them, a faint bittersweet tilt to his lips that Sasuke almost doesn’t catch. Sasuke is sure that he is thinking about his own childhood, so different from the way these kids are growing up, orphans and yet not. Naruto waves to Konohamaru and passes his wave-making duties on to him, then walks over to join Sasuke under the tarp shading a section of the beach, where five or six heavily pregnant civilian ladies and kunoichi are sitting on decking chairs watching the events and chatting idly.
“Changed your mind?” Naruto asks, smiling warmly at him; Sasuke wants to call himself the idiot that he is, because it’s so very obvious how Naruto feels about him when he knows what to look for.
“I was thinking more that you need your ego knocked down a peg for everyone’s good,” he smirks back; Naruto glares at him.
‘What?! You are lecturing me about the size of my ego? Fucking hypocrite! I’m taking you down!”
He grabs Sasuke’s wrist in one large hand and drags him off to the changing rooms on the other side of the clearing, pushing him into the nearest cubicle.
“Strip,” he orders. “I’ll be right back with a pair of swim trunks.”
“Don’t bother, I have mine on,” Sasuke advises and watches Naruto slowly turn red with fury.
“Bastard! I can’t believe you’ve been having me on!”
Sasuke smirks and reaches for the hem of his sleeveless top, tugging it off slowly, revealing a stretch of pale skin. Naruto bushes darkly before resolutely turning his back to him, muttering something about ‘going blind’, and ‘common decency’, and ‘close the damned door’.
Sasuke smirks at the dark pink colour on the back of his neck and ears before tugging the door of the stall closed.
Naruto can’t remember the last time he paid so much attention to not tripping. His composure is severely rattled by the way Sasuke prowls at his side, and he thinks he may have an inkling as to why Sasuke did not want to undress. His skin is littered with scars, but this will only encourage all the women who trail behind them surreptitiously. God knows it makes him want to trail his fingers over each of them, to learn their story one by one. He really hopes the teme doesn’t catch him staring – he’ll never let him live it down.
Sasuke walks next to Naruto, pretending not to notice the exaggerated attention the blond pays to his feet and the barely noticeable sideways glances thrown at him from under lowered eyelashes. The sand feels good slipping between his bare toes; Sasuke takes a moment to simply bask in the glorious day, moving fluidly side by side with the one constant presence in his life. The crowd parts for them – two tall, powerful young men enjoying each other’s company. They reach the pool quickly, and Sasuke’s blood already stirs with the thought of competing against his rival after all this time.
“Okay! Everyone, we’re going to have a friendly little competition,” Naruto says, an untamed grin overtaking his face – nobody present believes there’s going to be anything friendly about it.
He outlines the details and conditions of the contest in a long, drawn out speech; Sasuke tunes him out and selects a decent-sized board, aerodynamic enough to please him. He gives it an experimental flex and is happy with the results. He sees Kakashi watching him, raising a suggestive eyebrow and grinning his filthy grin behind the mask; he suppresses the urge to flush. The way Kakashi keeps glancing between him and Naruto is extremely unsettling – hasn’t Kakashi heard of subtlety? Kakashi winks at him with his uncovered eye – Sasuke tries out his best blank look, but it only makes Kakashi actually start laughing. He scowls; he hates being teased as if he were twelve again, especially with Naruto now throwing curious looks at the two of them. He makes a note to get the pervert back for that.
Naruto finishes his rambling, swaggers over to Sasuke looking like he’s won already, and casually signals at Gaara. Gaara doesn’t move, but sand swirls in the air before Naruto and shapes itself in a perfect surfing board, hard enough to hold its shape but soft enough to flow with the water to a perfect speed. He glances slyly at Sasuke, looking far-too-pleased with himself. Sasuke is blindsided for a moment – what is Naruto playing at? For that matter, what the hell is Gaara up to, playing favourites? Sasuke had thought he had made his thoughts on the matter of Naruto quite plain!
Naruto shoots a triumphant smile at Sasuke, delighted with the dark scowl on his face. Sasuke bares his teeth in irritation and pushes him in the pool. This turns out to be a mistake – Naruto latches on to his wrist and pulls him in after him. Sasuke emerges, wet hair unflatteringly stuck to his face, forehead drawn and eyes narrowed in a severe frown at his tormentor. Naruto takes one look at him and falls over laughing, almost swallowing water the wrong way. He sits in the shallow depth and giggles like a toddler, shoulders shaking, spluttering incoherently what Sasuke strongly suspects are insults he should bite his head off for. He makes to walk off –he’s going to be having another chat with Gaara, when Naruto jumps up and grabs his wrist again.
“Oh, no,” he gasps, “you’re not getting away that easily. Come on, teme. Time for a challenge.”
Konohamaru sets off his Wind jutsu again, much stronger than when Naruto was casting it for the kids earlier. Two-metre-high waves flow on the surface and the two of them jump right in, swimming deeper as fast as they can. Naruto is the first to try balancing on top of his sand-board, but he’s misjudged – he yelps loudly and disappears under the foaming waves not three seconds after. Sasuke spares him a glance to check if he’s okay. Noticing the blond head reappear, hair flattened and eyes determined, he returns his mind to the challenge. He bides his time much better than his rival, Sharingan whirling, selecting the perfect wave with ease. He flips to standing on top of the board, channelling a little chakra to the soles of his feet to help him stabilise and stay up easier. Naruto yells a protest and copies him, crouching slightly from the speed.
Sasuke’s knees are only slightly bent; his chakra control perfect, he judges the speed and angle of landing with every movement. Naruto catches up to him in moments and whoops in exhilaration, the wind making his spiky hair flop against his head, grinning so wide it almost splits his face in two. Sasuke can’t find it in himself to begrudge him the pleasure, so he decides not to knock him over as he had planned to, but let him enjoy the ride.
As Sasuke had known it would happen, they reach the shore at the same time and in the same position. Naruto winks at him and, with a burst of wind chakra, accelerates to pass him at the last moment. Sasuke would be livid if Naruto had not miscalculated again – the wind spurs him on slightly too well and he sails over the sand to bury himself head-first in the nearest sand dune. Sasuke steps off his own board calmly and struggles not to laugh as he watches Naruto battle to re-emerge to a chorus of giggling from every kid present. He finally steps out with sand trailing from every part of his body, but Sasuke sees to his pleasure that he’s still grinning.
“Brilliant,” he laughs. “I win!”
“Yes, yes,” Sasuke waves him off. Naruto sends him a smaller, self-depreciating smile that seems to be saved just for him; warmth suffuses his chest again, and he lets it.
The next day it’s time for a sandcastle-building competition, and Sasuke is back to wearing his ANBU uniform; he has left the protective breastplate off in honour of the occasion. He feels secure enough in his preparations to let it go – there are three other trusted ANBU members on guard around the beach-clearing.
Naruto has assigned Gai to lifeguarding duties today, which is doubly effective – Gai is in his element, and people are very, very careful not to go into the water too deep and put themselves in danger – nobody wants Gai’s muscled presence bearing down on them full-speed, yelling reassurances of imminent restoration of their youthful force. Naruto wishes he’d thought of that yesterday; Sai says nothing but sets up his easel, capturing Gai as a bird of prey mid-flight and ignoring the dozens of kids gathered behind him, curiously looking on as he flicks his brush incessantly.
There are teams of kids and adults, some mixed and some not, standing ready by the many small piles of sand that Gaara set up before dawn, looking determined and glaring around at their competition. All eight genin teams of the current generation have turned up to compete against each other, their senseis looking on from the sidelines. There are smaller, pre-genin kids, too, taking part with their parents. At the signal each team dives in the sand piles; a cloud of dust flies into the air. Some of the teams attempt to work with chakra – the eldest Hyuuga boy doing particularly well, while some are not so successful – the youngest Inuzuka girl has to be dug out by her dog and dragged out of the hole she’s made by her frowning teammates.
Naruto parades the lines, dressed in a lightweight mesh shirt and his usual orange trousers and white Hokage coat. Whenever he passes a team, they stand to attention like soldiers; at his warm smiles they relax and preen like the kids they really are. Sasuke shakes his head. The Nanadaime Hokage commands not only his people’s respect, but their love, too – that is why he is just as strong, if not stronger than his predecessors.
“Okay, I’m leaving the rest to you, now,” he announces. “You have another ninety minutes to complete your projects before me and Kazekage-sama come back to determine the winners.” An increase in frenzied activity follows this statement while Naruto makes his way over to the food stands.
Unsurprisingly, every single proprietor of a catering establishment in the village is out here, from dango stands, to barbeque, to ice cream and candyfloss, to Ichiraku’s ramen, where Naruto has a free all-you-can-eat pass from the old man himself for the duration of the festival. Sasuke reminds himself to at least try to limit the damage Naruto is going to wreck on Ichiraku’s supplies. God knows Chouji and his youngest nephew are already having a good go at decimating the barbeque stand, but he’s paying for it.
Jounin and chuunin are everywhere, making the most of this impromptu holiday and milling amongst the civilians, catching up with friends. Many of them are lounging in the sun, playing cards, and chess, and go, and backgammon very loudly, as is their habit. There are bottles of sake in practically every place that two or more people are sitting together, but Sasuke supposes they deserve it after a whole year of working hard to preserve Konoha’s integrity and prosperity.
While Sasuke’s been looking around, Naruto has already put away two bowls of ramen and is making progress on his third under the smiling eyes of old man Ichiraku. Ayame winks at Sasuke when he meanders over, placing a bowl of tomato ramen before him with a smile.
“On the house,” she says, but he shakes his head.
“You’re in enough trouble with this one as it is,” he says, nodding over at the slurping Naruto on his left.
“Hey!” Naruto protests, mouth still full.
“Honestly, Uchiha-san, it’s no trouble. We’ll hardly notice it with the amount Hokage-sama puts away.”
Sasuke nods in thanks and digs in – it’s long since gone lunchtime, and he’s ravenous.
When three other patrons make their way to the stand, Naruto shifts closer to Sasuke to make space for them. His thigh is warm where it slides firmly against Sasuke’s while he makes himself comfortable. Sasuke feels himself flush slightly at the ease with which Naruto acts around him – like they have been a couple for years when he’s only just realised being with him is even possible. He presses back, tentatively, and Naruto pauses in stuffing his face to smile at him happily. He can’t quite stop the answering smile that curves his lips when he looks at the blond, sitting next to him like nothing has changed since they were twelve and yet minding his white Hokage coat so carefully, still unused to the weight of it. Sasuke cannot remember a time when he has felt this content.
Then one of the customers trips and jostles Naruto as he exits, turning to apologise profusely at his Hokage. Naruto removes himself from Sasuke’s arms which have tightened automatically around him, and smiles benevolently at the man assuring him he is fine. Sasuke’s chest tingles where Naruto’s warm weight had settled for those brief moments. His fingers twitch, wanting to tug Naruto closer again; but Naruto has already turned back to his first love that is ramen, and pays him no attention.
The judging of the sandcastle-building competition is a momentous occasion. The children are suitably in awe of Hokage-sama’s grave expression and Kazekage-sama’s considering look, fairly shaking with anticipation and nervousness. Sasuke is impressed by the variety – there are castles with spirals and leaves etched into their turrets, others with actual ninjas keeping guard, there’s even a team who has a half-naked shinobi climbing out of the window of their sand villa – sure enough, they are Konohamaru’s crew, the cheeky monkeys. There are magnificent towers weaved with sand flowers and vines, villas guarded by giant dogs, even a copy of the Hokage monument, Naruto’s grinning face featuring prominently at the end with the six whisker marks etched deeply into his cheeks. There are birds with every feather lovingly chiselled, giant hydras, a heavily reinforced fortress and even a fountain letting forth sand every few seconds.
Naruto has to make four passes around the entries before coming to a decision. He is distracted and deep in thought, though Gaara can see that he’s not really thinking about the competition they are judging. When Gaara has to remind him for the second time which three entries are their top choices, he knows something isn’t quite right and looks at him more carefully. Naruto keeps touching his right arm, as if there is something that bothers him, but Gaara sees no change in the fluidity of his movements so it can’t be from pain or discomfort. It’s as if he fell against something and can’t get away from the feel of it.
“Everything okay?” Gaara murmurs softly, but Naruto starts as if he has yelled in his ear.
“Yes! Fine!” he answers, too quickly, but Gaara lets it go for the moment.
First prize goes to a gorgeous rendition of a phoenix by Nara Shiomi, Hyuuga Hisae and Sarutobi Kazuki, the genin team that Naruto had bullied Tenten into taking on. The two girls and one boy are beside themselves with glee; Naruto bestows a beautiful scroll upon their team, on which Sai has very quickly sketched a stylised rendition of their flaming bird. Gaara shakes each of them by the hand, looking grave – the kids are utterly in awe of him and dare only speak timid ‘thank-you-Kazekage-sama’-s to his congratulations.
That evening, members of the Hokage’s advisory committee gather at the Hokage tower to plan out the upcoming festival four days from now. They decide that the clearing should be returned to its previous condition and stalls can be erected there the night before. The sixth and seventh day will be entirely reserved for the festival. Hinata is delegated the organisation of activities for the children, with Sai to help her. Naruto still can’t get over how well those two are getting on – the soft-spoken Hyuuga heiress seems to know just what to say to make the social outcast feel less alienated; he in turn is devoted to her for her unfailing kindness to everyone she meets regardless of rank or ability, which he does not understand but appreciates nonetheless.
Chouji takes over the catering organisation, naturally; no-one else can do a more thorough job of sorting out which stand should go where. For the circus coming into Konoha on the sixth day, lent to them by the Land of the Moon’s Prince Hikaru, Naruto chooses Kiba to take care of everything they should need.
“Just because I’m an Inuzuka does not mean that I like any other animals besides our dogs, you know!” Kiba grumbles, put-out.
“But you’re the only one who knows what they might need, though. Go on, take one for the team,” Naruto urges and the rest nod. Kiba, outnumbered, sulkily agrees.
“Tell you what,” Naruto says when he sees this, “I’ll build you that training enclosure you’ve been hampering on about in exchange.”
Kiba brightens immediately.
Some time later, duties divided, the meeting breaks up. As soon as everyone but Sasuke’s gone, Naruto yawns widely and stretches. “Crap, that was a long day,” he mumbles.
Sasuke agrees – he’s exhausted himself.
“Do you want a drink?” Naruto asks, so casually that Sasuke almost misses the nervous flicker of eyes in his direction.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, dobe,” Sasuke tells him reluctantly. He hates to say no to him, but it would be a really bad idea to lower their inhibitions further at this point in time when they are already so tired. “I’m on duty tonight,” he adds to make the rejection less abrupt.
“Another time, maybe,” Naruto shrugs dismissively. Sasuke isn’t fooled – he sees the way his refusal makes Naruto hunch his shoulders inwards. It makes Sasuke hate himself.
Naruto bids him goodnight in a husky voice that rushes straight to Sasuke’s groin. With another yawn that almost dislocates his jaw, he wanders off up the stairs to his bedroom.
Sasuke doesn’t head home – he’s on first watch; even as tired as he is he won’t be swapping with anyone else. The ANBU are on a tight rotation this week, four members covering all the weak points while their comrades rest up a little. Second and third watch at Hokage tower belong to Tortoise and Rabbit, so he only technically has until midnight to go until he gets relieved. Utterly silent, Uchiha Sasuke withdraws his mask – Hawk slips it over his face. He drops out of the Hokage tower’s eastern window, disappearing into the falling darkness.
It was raining again. It often rained in his dreams. The thunder of the nearby waterfall covered the sound the raindrops made when they splattered over his face, almost blinding him, making it hard to breathe. His body hurt so bad – he looked down, taking in all the blood soaking through his shirt and into the muddy ground underneath. His chest was ripped open, a fist-sized hole all the way through. His heart was broken; he could see the two halves plain as day, held together by nothing but a thin red thread. He turned his head with some effort, looked to his side. He saw a pair of feet standing very close. Someone waiting to finish the job, perhaps? He knew he was dead anyway, could not live without the other half of his heart; and that had walked away from him just like those feet were turning around and walking away. The barely-there red line stretched from the halves of his heart to the man’s hand, wrapping around the fist. He knew that if that man chose to, he could repair his heart as if it had never been broken, or break him altogether.
The man hesitated, looked back – a pair of dark eyes bore into his from behind a wet fringe of black hair. The eyes were cold; they seared through his soul. He tried to call out – he wanted the man to come back. He needed the man to come back so he could carry on living. If the man went away, well, he might as well let go right there, in this godforsaken valley at the end of the world. His voice came out in a croak, tears streaming down his throat, desperate.
“S-Sasuke …”
The man turned, but did not come back. He waited.
“Please don’t—“ was as far as he got before the man’s eyes narrowed as he took hold of the line and tugged, stretching it far-too-tight …
Hawk watches his Hokage sleep. He takes in the open face, slack in relaxation; the blond eyelashes, fluttering on his cheeks as he dreams; the finely muscled body, at rest for once. This man, to whom he has been connected since the day he was born. This man, whom he has saved twice – who has saved Hawk back more times than he can count. This man, who had kept Hawk going even when he had hated him, whom he failed to kill so many times. This man, who is the reason for everything Hawk does, from the moment he wakes to the rare moments he sleeps. The man whom Hawk loves, who commands his every muscle, every thought. Should Hawk let him know? He does not need the complication, that’s for sure – he’s Hokage-sama, he has an image to uphold. Hawk stands guard anyway – he will stand guard over him until the moment either dies. There was a time when he had turning his back on this man, left him behind, not caring about the things that broke and bled in a place he no longer belonged. He cannot imagine doing so now.
His Hokage shifts slightly in his sleep, burrowing his head into his pillow. His breath is coming more rapidly than it had a minute ago, but he is still unconscious. Hawk looks at the moon and listens – a faint hoot signals that the presence he feels is the arrival of the ANBU officer on second watch. Hawk takes a final glance at the Hokage and, sure he is as safe as can be, he silently shimmers to the Hokage tower’s roof.
“All clear,” Hawk reports. “It’s been a silent night so far.”
“Copy that,” Tortoise says softly. “Get some rest, Hawk, you look tired. I’ll take over now.”
Hawk nods and disappears, only to reappear back where he had been a minute ago, chakra tightly shielded. His subordinates don’t know that he spends his nights right here, alert for any sound out of place. His training to sleep with one eye open, get as much rest as he can while still remaining vigilant, dates back almost a decade – it is child’s play for him by now. He trusts his men with his life, but not with the life of his Hokage-sama, not when he knows better than anyone just how fragile he really is beyond the Kyuubi’s powers of healing. It would take very little to break this indestructible man – just a tiny seed of doubt planted in the right place.
The sleeping form stirs; Hawk stays where he is. Hokage-sama has nightmares sometimes, but he wakes quickly enough, no doubt the Kyuubi sensing its host’s distress and rousing him straight away. This time is different, though.
“Sasuke,” Hokage-sama gasps, the sound barely making it out of his dry throat. He reaches towards Hawk, patently still asleep. “Sasuke, please,” he begs in a broken voice.
Hawk cannot stay out here any longer. He cannot leave, either, not when his Hokage is calling for him. He takes a step forward, closer than he’s ever been to the interior of this room. Another leap and he’s inside, a dark shadow blocking the light from the window. The sleeping man chokes, desperately reaching for him. Before Hawk knows it he’s at the bed, taking the Hokage’s hand in his gloved one. The hand grips him hard, almost cutting off his circulation. It tugs him forward; he is caught off-guard, pulled to kneel on the bed beside him.
“Sasuke,” Naruto pleads hoarsely.
“I’m here,” Hawk finds himself saying. “I’m here, Hokage-sama.”
Hokage-sama frowns, still asleep. “Sasuke,” he insists.
Hawk reaches up with his free hand and tugs his mask off. Sasuke slumps over the corner of the bed where he’s kneeling. “I’m here, Naruto.” His own voice is just as hoarse.
“Don’t leave, Sasuke. Please don’t leave me again.”
Sasuke stares down at him. It’s very dark in the room, but he can see Naruto’s eyes are still closed tightly. He wonders what Naruto could be dreaming of, to keep him from waking, to make him this desperate for him. He wonders if he can promise something that would trap him in this village for the rest of his life, tie him so firmly to its people and their leader. He never thought he would be facing this choice in his lifetime; he expected to die long ago, taking this village with him. Still, Konoha has been changing, improving, evolving into a village where Itachi would never have been forced to make that sacrifice, where his father would never have contemplated staging a coup d’état in the first place. A village they would have been proud to be a part of, live in, give their lives for. If he is honest with himself, he has made his choice long ago.
“I won’t,” he murmurs, saying it out loud for the first time. He chose this man. He always will. Saying it makes the choice real; he won’t back out of a promise freely made. For the first time, it doesn’t leave the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth. It feels like a fresh start instead.
He makes to let go of the hand so he can move to a chair, but it holds on tight; Naruto makes a distressed sound in the back of his throat. Sighing, Sasuke shifts and curls up at the corner of the bed over the sheets, trying not to jostle him enough to wake up. Naruto’s breathing slows and eases; a faint smile curves his lips. He inhales deeply, lets it out in a long sigh. “Sasuke,” he murmurs, and is silent for the rest of the night. Sasuke spends the hours looking at him, memorising his face, his scent, the breath falling over his face, the feel of his body so close to his. He doesn’t touch him but for the hand holding his, which Naruto tugs further across and curls his body around, as if afraid it would disappear if he doesn’t hold on to it as tight as he can. The sleeping man’s chest rises and falls along his arm, heat warming him like his very own furnace.
He contemplates all the twists and turns that have led him here, to this bed, even if he’s not entirely permitted to be in it, not consciously. That is why he does not touch Naruto any more than he is already. When he does, he wants Naruto to be awake for it, to want it, to need it the way he needs Naruto’s touch to make him feel whole.
Naruto turns, still clutching at his hand; the moonlight falls on his bare chest. The skin is smooth, toned, unblemished, but Sasuke can easily imagine the ragged-edged hole that had once been there.
Part Two
