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Published:
2014-07-03
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2019-07-27
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11/?
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Bad Bromance

Summary:

Sasuke awakens a vengeful Kaguya in the Uchiha family shrine, and instead of hell breaking loose—Naruto turns into a woman. While Sasuke struggles to come to terms with his feelings...rivals of the past appear, and he must seize matters into his own hands...

Notes:

You will find references to canon, reincarnation, and potentially controversial themes involving gender-identity (this is, after all, a gender-bending story).

Chapter 1: Transformation

Chapter Text

.

.

.

Sun. Glorious sun.

Sinking into his room like a soothing perfume, awakening his senses.

"Yo Naruto, you awake yet? I can't find the soap?" yelled a familiar voice through the thick haze of morning dreams. "I guess you're still sleeping…"

He wiggled his toes and tossed frustratingly under the covers.

"Just look harder," he scarcely murmured over the spell of slumber.

"...so I'm going to shower first then."

Unusual as it is, he felt every inch of his body, and how hot did the bed feel underneath him, he almost gasped. However, with eyes still shut Naruto flopped onto his stomach, assuming his most preferred sleeping position. At least get in another hour of sleep. Please, he begged his burning body.

That's when he felt it. The dull chest pain which catapulted his mind to full consciousness—the pain! Suffocating pain. Quickly, he veered off the bed, falling to the floor in fetal position.

"D-damn it," he choked, clutching at his sides.

His hips. His waist. As soon as he'd touched them, his eyes shot wide open.

No…

Only wearing his boxers, Naruto froze in horror. Blood stopped coursing in his veins, time screeched to a halt as his breaths strangled and muscles stiffened. No longer did physical pain matter. Not when two balloons protruded from his chest. 

Hooters, bazongas, tatas, twangers

Panicking, Naruto hyperventilated. "Shit...shit!" he shot up from the floor, swaying as he did so. "Shit, someone help!"

He fell backwards right into his nightstand, knocking his clock to the ground—which shattered into fragments…and no sweat, it was a cheap digital clock for less than five bucks. 

Wake up¸ wake up! Naruto panted, world spinning. Nightmare, this had to be a nightmare. His legs weren't his legs, his feet weren't his feet, his hair—wasn't his short hair. But terribly long, golden locks fluttering like fronds in the wind.

Naruto pulled at this fake hair. When he realized the hair wasn't fake, he screamed. In his mind, the scream was a Viking's rallying cry on the battlefield. But when instead, he heard a woman's voice instead of his own, Naruto's throat clogged up with horror. This couldn't possibly be a prank, but a dream. Not a prank, not a dream, but a nightmare.

"Who are you?" cried out a terrified voice.

Kiba. His roommate.

Naruto's eyes widened, and reached out an arm. "K-Kiba, you gotta help me man. I feel sick. I'm hallucinating…" he croaked, still hearing that shaky high-pitched feminine voice speak for him. "I'm seeing things, hearing things, feeling things…I think I might need the ER."

Wordlessly, Kiba stared at him.

And that pissed Naruto off. "Kiba! Stop standing there, for hell's sake! I need help!"

"H-how do you know me?" stammered Kiba, whose mouth hung agape the whole time.

Naruto's mouth went dry. Not only was the world spinning, but now his own roommate made him sick. "What the hell kind of question is that "how do I know you"?! Open your damned eyes. I'm Naruto, your roommate. Stop messing around with me!"

"You're not Naruto."

"Yes! Yes, I am, you...don't be an asshole!" he shouted, but instead, a shrill girly voice bounced off the walls of their apartment. This perturbed Naruto himself, who felt a jolt of terror in his spine. "Okay, this shit's getting real. I can't. Call 9-1-1. Not myself. I think I'm dying."

At that moment, Kiba's eyes roamed downwards and locked with the perfect plump mounds he'd ever seen in his life. Pale, pink rosy buds, so aroused and pert. And the round breasts swelling up into ripe fruits—the sight of paradise itself, when looking upon the thin waist, wide hips…Kiba swallowed hard. Was this Naruto's new lay? Sister? Girlfriend? Like a spell, he stood transfixed, motionless.

Clenching his fists, Naruto bolted forward, wrenching Kiba by the collar. "What are you staring at, huh?"

"Put on a shirt, please," begged Kiba, eyes still glued to the nude female parts.

"So you're seeing what I'm seeing?"

Kiba blinked. Unsure, he mumbled, "I'm sorry I walked in on you. I heard you scream for help and didn't realize you were partially naked…"

"Who cares," snapped Naruto, confused at his roommate's humility and shame, "we see each other shirtless all the time. Why is your…nose bleeding?"

Violently, Kiba pulled away and in a frantic tone said hurriedly, "Sit down, I'll bring you some clothes."

So I'm not seeing things? Naruto rubbed his eyes, before gazing down at his own body. Breasts, curves, long slender legs…radiating blond hair to his hips…this was all real? That even his sober roommate saw?

In the next second, Kiba handed him an orange t-shirt, and similarly grapefruit colored shorts. "This is Naruto's smallest sized outfit I could find."

Naruto glared at his friend, willing for some understanding. "Yes, my clothes. Kiba, man are you even listening to me?"

When he didn't get a coherent response, he just donned his shirt and shorts. But at his midriff, the shirt felt too tight, and he quickly realized why. The breasts. Inflated as they were, pressed against the fabric.

Finally, he looked back at Kiba before saying, "You really don't recognize me?"

"You have his eyes," murmured Kiba, melting at the melodic voice of this beautiful stranger. "Are you related?"

Sighing, Naruto ignored the question. Logic or quick wit wouldn't save him now. No special words or reasoning. This absurd calamity eviscerated his heart and nausea swept him like a furious wave, he thought he'd been disemboweled—while his mind collapsed into confusion. He ran to his closet, rummaging around before slipping into a pair of white sneakers: apparently he dropped down several foot sizes. He almost spat. This was hell itself, wasn't it?

"H-hey," said Kiba, moving after the blonde. "You're leaving?"

"You're being a useless friend," growled Naruto, diving into the bathroom.

"But you said you need an ambulance!"

Voices drowned out. Looking into his reflection, Naruto barely swallowed down his tension.

Who is this?

He patted his bangs aside. Annoyingly pretty Barbie doll tresses framed his face—which seemed more cherubic than before. He lost his defined jawline, and his neck elongated into that of a graceful swan's, blending into delicate shoulders: no longer broad and manly. Of course his gaze dropped to the hard nipples peeking through his orange shirt…he couldn't blame Kiba for stumbling…

But if there's one person in this world who'd recognize him, and still treat him as Naruto, it'd be…

 

.

.

.

 

"Sir, there's a visitor for you," said the secretary, concerned.

Sasuke looked up from his work, before casually saying, "That's not possible. All meetings are scheduled for next week."

At the cold dismissal, the man stood as if torn by a dilemma. "But sir, she is claiming to be your friend Naruto. And I've tried numerous times to send her away, but she won't have any of it."

"She? Then call for security," he said annoyed, reaching for the phone on his desk. "Or rather, I'll do it myself."

The secretary nodded before disappearing out the door.

After making the short call, he leaned back into his chair. Rubbing his temples, Sasuke felt unable to continue with work. For some reason, whenever his brother Itachi traveled away to the countryside on religious journeys, he always experienced turbulence here during office hours. Just last month, during Itachi's two-week absence, a flock of pigeons was seen dancing on the rooftop of their company building. And prior to that, a blind mendicant came barreling through the glass windows in the main lobby—causing such a horrific scene, police and news reporters made sure to inscribe the moment forever in tabloids.

His father trusted him with their investment firm. After all, Itachi refused to inherit the company, choosing instead a spiritual path and maintaining some of the country’s most sacred shrines.. At least his full-time work here will come to an end since his first semester in college started tomorrow.

Sighing, Sasuke glanced at his calendar. Tomorrow. He already registered for his classes, and of course he hoped to escape from the strict and punitive watch from his old man.

"S-sir, I tried—"

"Let me through damn it!"

The door blasted open. Naruto whirled in like a heated ball of lightning. "Sasuke you bastard don't you dare call security on me!"

When Sasuke met the electric eyes of the blonde, he literally shot up. "Naruto?"

"Yeah, we need to talk. Alone."

The two guards and secretary quickly left the office as soon as Sasuke signaled for them to leave. He then turned to the woman who so much resembled his best friend, he wondered if Naruto was wearing a wig and fake breasts…however, not only was the disguise too perfect, but the feminine whines and sounds reminded him of anything but Naruto.

Sasuke sized up the ruffled figure with growing perplexity. "Why are you…"

"A woman?" finished Naruto, in a deadpan.

"You're embarrassing me, dressed like this—"

"Damn it Sasuke! I'm not dressed like anything. None of this is fake," he gestured at his obvious chest, and then his hair, "Either I'm still dreaming, or this is real. And by now I'm realizing it's the second. I woke up….like this…"

Dark shadows crossed the pale features. "I haven't any time for your games, idiot. And besides, don't you have an appointment with your academic advisor today? You have to register for your classes. But instead you come to annoy me with your usual pranks."

"A prank?! Think I'd joke about losing my manhood? Come on!" yelled Naruto, jumping forward, cheeks burning crimson. "I'm the one embarrassed! This isn't me and I hate every second I'm in this body!"

The high-pitched shouts definitely struck Sasuke into a spell; rooted to the spot, his dark gaze penetrated through the shrouds of confusion. Sasuke pursed his lips in deep calculation, never removing his sight off the glowing blue orbs.

And in the sudden silence, Naruto gulped. What if Sasuke didn't believe him? Then what. Then he'd choke right then and there, for his heart already fluttered like a drum. A dry funeral drum: playing the sad majestic melody of the end of his life. Because being alone at this point equaled death, and all he had was…Sasuke…his best friend…

Finally he heard Sasuke coolly remark, "You came all the way here dressed like that?"

Naruto looked down upon himself and then back up, with brows furrowed. "Huh?"

"Everyone can see your…" Sasuke trailed off, sounding rather put off. "Female attributes…"

"Seriously, that's the last damned thing I'm worried about!" Naruto cried out, panting from humiliation. "Just s-shit. Do you even believe me?" he asked with an edge of helplessness.

That's when Sasuke stepped back, sending an incredulous look. "I'm not sure what to believe…"

"That I'm Naruto Uzumaki, your best friend since the first grade—I drew you an action comic about ninjas back in elementary school, which you still keep in your room under your nightstand! Our number one pastime back in junior high was cutting recess and exploring the city—" Naruto heaved a breath before launching further down memory lane, "We used to be sparring partners on the high school fencing team, and our sensei was Killer Bee. He always smelled like sweat and deodorant, and I always made fun of his whack raps: and you always laughed at my impressions of our teachers. But while I went on to martial arts living my fantasy of fighting, you instead studied business. You said…you wanted to follow your father's steps—"

"Enough…Naruto," murmured Sasuke, turning away. "It is you. I can almost hear your real voice."

No words can describes the jubilation and relief which flooded him in that moment. Naruto scrambled closer, almost wobbling over from his adrenaline rush and the oversized sneakers which hardly encased his feet.

"No one else believes me except for you. I—I almost knocked Kiba out for his helpful gestures. While my own godfather didn't recognize me…and if he did, he sure as hell didn't want to admit it," he rambled on, flushing from the heat of panic, "and, and…I'm bugging out, what can I say? I don't know why this happened, and how can I turn back?"

Gently, Sasuke ushered his frantic friend onto the leather couch by the window. "There's no point in panicking, moron. Sit down and breathe."

"My life is over…" groaned Naruto, dropping into the cushioned seat as if sapped.

"Let me think for a moment."

For a tense minute, Sasuke paced around the room becoming tight and internalized. He moved fluidly across the area, resting his chin in the palm of a pale hand. During this whole time, Naruto's eyes followed his friend's form wide with expectation. Until finally, he became too nervous with the silence, and pleaded: "Can you think aloud?"

And thus, with the air of an experienced logician, Sasuke began to think out loud. "I don't know any illness that generates onset gender transformation—an overnight growth of hair, and…other characteristics. Going to a doctor would be pointless."

"Right," agreed the blond, nodding.

"Since I see your physical changes, I know this isn't an illness of your imagination. So, a psychiatrist would also be useless."

With another slow nod, Naruto agreed.

Their eyes met, when another idea struck Sasuke. "Therefore if physical and mental domains are ruled out—I'm left to suspect a spiritual reason behind this."

A…spiritual reason? Naruto scowled at the absurd ring to it. "What'ya mean a spiritual reason? Come on, even I don't buy that."

But when Naruto thought harder on the subject: truly, nothing else could explain his sudden transformation. There's no poison in the world that causes a gender change! No disease! His DNA couldn't mutate into a different sex. And he didn't have a psychosis or delusion, and he certainly didn't have a sex operation. So if nothing on Earth could elucidate the mystery, then maybe Heaven could.

Sasuke added on to his conclusion, "Tonight my brother returns from his religious journey. When he sees you, we'll find out exactly what happened."

At that, Naruto buried face into his hands. "Itachi will see me like this…are you sure he'll even believe the situation? Are you sure he can even fix me?"

"He's inherited the family's special power and tradition," answered Sasuke, voice smooth and cold, "he can see with a sixth sense and dedicates almost all of his time maintaining our shrine and meditating. With that said, I think Itachi has seen much worse than your female form."

"B-but..."

"And if he can't fix you, or at least tell me who can, then I really do think this is a hopeless situation."

Head snapping up, Naruto looked up into the dark gaze. "No. This can't be hopeless. I need to return to my normal self because I can't imagine it any other way, I just can't!" his voice quivered, but that's because he couldn't control his new feminine larynx very well. "I'll wait right here until your brother gets back."

A long tense silence passed as Sasuke stood by him, gazing out the window with a wistful countenance. Biting his tongue, Naruto avoided further complaining at all costs, afraid to interrupt Sasuke's deep thought.

"You can't miss your appointment," muttered Sasuke lowly, still looking through the glass. "I'll drive you to campus and help you register for your classes."

"But Sasuke, no! Holy hell, no. I can't start my first year as a—as a woman!"

Without sparing the petulant blond a glance, Sasuke continued in that same hollow remote tone, "You're emphasizing on this temporary condition too much, moron. Think long-term because once this blows over, you'll at least be a student for the upcoming semester."

"Wait. Can you just—just call and reschedule the appointment for another day!"

Sasuke garroted him with a chilling stare. "You already pushed back the date two times before. That means today is the day you have to go."

Damn it, how true it was; and while he felt flabbergasted at the troubling dilemma he also felt waves of relief, and very reassured at how Sasuke intimated the details of his life. Even in this crisis, Naruto relaxed in the other's executive presence. He always admired Sasuke's confidence and sharp mind, as well as what seemed to be an infinite reservoir of knowledge—however he doubted Sasuke could understand how terrible it felt to have your life ripped out of your hands…

And so sighing with sorrow, Naruto tightened his muscles before following Sasuke out the door. Head hung in shame, he hardly managed, "I can't go like this."

"You can."

Sasuke's silky voice echoed in the stairwell, as they both descended several flights rapidly.

Speeding up after him, Naruto caught up and walked alongside him. "I mean, you said it yourself," he whispered quickly, "I'm not dressed right. I look terrible." Of course anything that didn't match his true form felt terrible so he described, "My hair is a damned nuisance, my feet are too small, and I seriously cringe every time I hear myself."

Sasuke glanced at him appraisingly. "I wouldn't say you look…terrible."

Freezing, Naruto's feet transfixed onto the marble floor. For some reason the words comforted him and as soon as he gathered his senses again, he chased after Sasuke, who at that point glided across the parking lot.

"Geez, hold the hell up," cried Naruto, scarcely able to run in these oversized sneakers. "Wait!"

Coming to a halt in front of his car, Sasuke smirked. He opened the passenger seat and in a smooth voice said, "Ladies first."

Scowling, Naruto dived into the seat but not before threatening, "You get a warning, bastard. Don't ever joke about this again…"

Sasuke simply shut the door, making his way around into the driver's seat. Smirk still intact.

As soon as the car had entered the highway, Naruto immediately noticed the peculiar route, which was not to his university but to somewhere else altogether. Confused, he demanded, "Where are we going?"

"We'll be making a quick stop before your appointment."

"Where?"

After a moment of consideration, Sasuke answered, “Sakura’s."

"What!" Naruto felt himself turn into fire, and his heart wildly pounded in his ears. "We can't go to Sakura-chan's!"

Sakura-chan was a big deal. A huge driver in recent decisions. For starters, ever since their diaper days, Sakura has been their mutual friend. Except, she’s a year older than both of them and currently studies as a sophomore at Keio University. The unnerving fact boils down to this: a tittering and persistent love triangle. She always had the hots for Sasuke, and Naruto faced the devastation of unrequited love early on. To this day, he loved her and he’s just not a quitter, you see? He worked his ass off to get into Keio University.

Grades weren’t his thing. But he kicked ass and scored a sweet martial arts scholarship.

And, Sasuke decided to join the bandwagon and apply to Keio too. Even though Sasuke assured him that there’s no interest in Sakura, Naruto can’t help but be suspicious sometimes.

Swerving the car off into the exit, Sasuke remained quiet but surely focused on their destination. While Naruto flailed like a patient with an aneurism. "Sasuke I refuse. I don't care what logical reason there is, I can't let her see me like this."

"So then don't let her think you're Naruto," came the cool reply.

"How?"

"It's very easy to believe you're someone else. Because you're not the same anymore. So pick a new story about your new identity," Sasuke explained in a clipped manner, as he parked the car into a tight space.

"I'm still the same person, come on Sasuke. You know that, right? She's going to know it too. And I can't face her reaction when she sees it, so please, whatever the reason we're here…can't we find another way…"

"I understand completely. But right now, there's no other way."

With that, Sasuke removed himself out of the vehicle, and without waiting for Naruto's accompaniment, waltzed up to the porch of a humble home.

Grumbling, Naruto twisted out as well and slammed the door shut. Right away, he smelled the fresh trees, dewy fresh cut grass, and he almost felt happy to be alive. Even the sun shone down with such modest heat, he smiled feeling his skin glow. Until he remembered the disaster which struck him, and now, all this beautiful nature can go to hell; for he might as well be in a junkyard smelling fish, and his mood couldn't sour any more than it has now.

In the meantime, Sasuke had been waiting by the front door under the shade. When a familiar pink-haired woman appeared before him, he greeted her with a, “Sakura, nice to see you."

"Sasuke-kun, you drive fast," she blanched, terrified as if she'd seen a ghost. "I got your message on my e-mail, but I didn't think you'd be here so quickly. I didn't even get a chance to prepare!"

Schooling an impassive expression, he stepped forward. "I apologize for contacting you so last minute."

Sakura fluttered her eyelashes through anxious reflexes. "No, it's so pleasant to hear from you at all that I really wouldn't have minded even if it was midnight or something," she admitted. "Would you like to come inside?"

"I'm with a friend of a friend," explained Sasuke, pointing back to Naruto, who had apparently been stationed stubbornly by the car. "If it wouldn't burden you, may she join us?"

Slightly bewildered, Sakura looked past her handsome idol, training her gaze onto the blonde lady in orange. "Why is she standing so far away?" asked Sakura, "and no…I don't mind if she came in."

When he turned to look back at Naruto, he narrowed his dark eyes threateningly. To which of course, Naruto wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms in defiance.

Vexation rose up his throat like bile, but Sasuke held such a reaction in check. Looking back at Sakura, he said, "She's very shy. Did you know you've been her role model for several years now?"

"Oh…my goodness, wow!" Sakura gasped, genuinely intrigued. "Well, I'll just fetch her myself since you can't properly introduce us."

Watching with veiled amusement, Sasuke tilted his head up, as Sakura scurried over to the blond. Before anyone knew it Naruto was dragged into the house by Sakura's persistent, strong grip. She led them through the foyer and had them remove their shoes by the coatrack.

"I'll make some tea, so please get comfortable," she chirped, beckoning them into the cozy living room.

Left alone for a moment, Naruto angrily whirled onto Sasuke. "You knew damn well I didn't want to come in here. She…she's going to recognize me right away, and I'll…choke…"

"Admit it. She didn't recognize you at all, and she will never see through that new body of yours."

The words rammed him like a heavy boulder. He dropped into the sofa. "She'll see through, just watch…and it'll be your fault." His voice cracked at the last part. "She'll know it's me. And I might as well join the circus in my underwear, ‘cause I'm never going to be any more damned humiliated than this."

Clattering of plates sounded from the nearby kitchen.

Holding his breath, Naruto scarcely swallowed down the shame threatening to overtake him. He heard Sasuke tell him, "She doesn't recognize you. Do not push any buttons. Don't even try. Let me make up a story for you, and play along. Understood?"

Naruto ground his teeth. "Don't even know why we're here. Better have a good reason, you bastard."

Click. Tap. Clatter. Tap.

Sakura entered the scene, balancing a tray of her finest tea set. The ceramics sounded at each bounce of her stride, while she masterfully cut across the living room. Once she set everything upon a cozy wooden table, she turned to Sasuke delightfully.

"I prepared green tea with jasmine," and then focusing on Naruto, she raised a brow, "are you alright, you seem pale."

"I-I'm fine," said Naruto, avoiding eye contact.

With incredible speed, she darted over to his side. Palpating his forehead, she mentioned, "You're awfully clammy, dear. Are you sure you're fine? I can bring some medicine out for you."

Surprised at her kindness, Naruto fidgeted. "I'm fine. But thanks Sakura-chan—I mean—I mean Sakura—or—Haruno-san."

At that point, Sasuke intervened by handing Naruto a cup of steaming green tea. Gladly, he snatched the drink out of his friend's hands, and made himself occupied. Awkward, awkward, awkward…

"Did you read my message completely, Sakura?"

"Oh, yes. I did," she answered. "I can't believe I haven't met Naruto's dearest cousin from the States."

Naruto almost spat out the tea in his mouth. What….

"I'm confused why Naruto isn't here himself to introduce me…that idiot!"

"He's got his appointment for class scheduling today," said Sasuke coolly.

"I see." She nodded slowly, sitting beside the nervous blonde. With a smile, she inquired lightly, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart? How come she'd never called him that before?

"Naru—" he automatically uttered before petrifying wholly, mouth agape.

Even Sasuke's chilling gaze stunned him to silence, staring at him with penetrating force. Time stopped.

"So then don't let her think you're Naruto…"

How?

"…pick a new story about your new identity…"

"Naruko," he finished…lamely.

"Naruko, it's so nice meeting you. You must be so exhausted. No wonder you're clammy, you need rest…" Sakura clapped her hands together and shook her head in sorrow, "I am so sorry about your loss."

"My loss?" he echoed.

"Yes, Sasuke told me that during your flight transfer, they lost your luggage. That's literally been my nightmare when I travel," Sakura rambled, "So you're definitely welcome to borrow some of my clothes."

Oh hell. Naruto bit his lip before sucking in a shaky breath. "I…uh…appreciate that…?"

"Come upstairs with me, I'll show you what I have. And you can pick whichever you like!"

He didn't really have a choice. As soon as he indicated reluctance, Sakura practically man-handled him up to her room, vibrating with excitement: the giddy energy, from whence he knew not. Though her eyes beamed and she repeatedly said he shouldn't be shy around her, as she'd love to help. But the moment they entered her private sleeping quarters, his mouth went dry.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" he asked, nearly stammering.

Ignoring the question, Sakura gestured to her grand closet hidden behind a moving wall-mirror. "What's your shoe size?"

"I think six…?"

"Oh wonderful, we both have small feet! And bra size?"

Bra size? He almost gasped. "I…I'm not sure."

"What? How can you not know?"

Great going, moron: he almost could imagine Sasuke say. "Never wore one before," he explained, thinking it might be a sound answer.

Sakura stared at him. After a moment he heard her say under her breath, "Hm, must be an American thing."

Several minutes of suggestions and recommendations passed, Sakura tossing everything she believed would fit Naruto on the bed. Strapless bras, leopard printed bras, long dresses, frilly skirts, classy chic blouses, and even pantyhose.

This couldn't be happening. He didn't want to even look twice at all these clothes—not when it was for him. He'd much rather see the garments modeled on a girl, rather; and oh how Sasuke must be so smug right now, entertained at the very idea of his boiling humiliation. "Sakura-chan," he whispered, "that's enough, really. I don't want so much."

"Nonsense, a girl can't have too many clothes."

But I'm not a girl, his mind screamed. "I don't even think I'll wear any of this…" he said honestly. "I'll just wear—"

"Naruko-san!" snapped Sakura, voice stern, "You'd rather wear Naruto's basketball shorts and baggy t-shirts? I'm offended, you must really think I have poor taste!"

Naruto buried his reddening face into his hands. "I didn't mean that. At all. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," dismissed she, striding out of the room, "I'll be downstairs with Sasuke-kun. Just try on the clothes I picked out for you. So put whatever you end up liking in that bag by the bed. Okay?"

"Okay."

Click. Sakura left the room.

He let out an explosive sigh. Walking over to the clothes pile, he gave it a glance over before telling the pretty dresses and skirts, "I refuse to try you on."

So, with that said, he shoved them all in the bag. So when Sakura came back in, she'd see how he thought of her taste in clothes—not leaving a single garment behind, hoping she'd interpret that as how much he "adored" her style. As for the pertinent attire, shoes, he first surveyed for the most comfortable looking pair, and upon finding flat sandals with a glittering blue floral accessory, he cried eureka, and slid his bare feet into them. Tapping his newly clad foot in nervous contemplation, he let his eyes roam around for a while.

Next vital piece must be the bra, he assessed with impatience. As soon as he took a bra into his hands, he stared at it confused. How do you put it on? Clasp it first and then pull it over your head? And which clasp? There's three. As if the questions bogged his mind, he sat down on the bed, mulling over the details.

"I'll just—I'll clasp it on the third, not a big deal."

Twisting his t-shirt off first, he then began the arduous task of donning an already clasped bra. "D-damn it! I'll try it on the first. Might be easier."

He attempted another shot, with painstaking effort, and his blond hair kept getting caught—but he managed to put it on. Only to feel the dull, uncomfortable pain of the peculiar tightness he felt. It'll disappear, he figured.

And thus, in orange basketball shorts, t-shirt, and sandals that actually fit him, he hoisted the bag of clothes out of the room. When he entered the living room once again, he met with Sasuke's bored gaze.

"Naruko-san you didn't even try anything on, did you?" Sakura accused, appearing very disappointed. "Sasuke-kun would you mind waiting for a little bit, I'll go upstairs with her, and get her out of that shell."

Sasuke looked at his watch to emphasize his point. "Ten more minutes. I have somewhere to be."

"That'll be plenty of time!"

Dragged back up to the closet of hell, Naruto nearly cursed under his breath. And to Sasuke's chagrin, they didn't come down in ten minutes, nor in fifteen, but a painstaking twenty. He sighed.

.

.

.

.

The whole time he glared at Sasuke. This torture, this level of discomfort. All Sasuke's damned idea!

"That was unnecessary, jerk," he ground out, unable to suppress the anger anymore. "She had me literally try on almost her whole wardrobe."

To which, Sasuke ignored, and instead rather plainly said, "She was more helpful than I imagined her to be."

"This isn't going to work," he seethed, stomping across campus. "They're not going to register me, because I'm not Naruto anymore!"

"They won't care about your gender, you're still Naruto Uzumaki, legally."

"No. Legally, Naruto Uzumaki is a boy."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes before coming to an abrupt halt. "What's the deepest voice you can make?"

Stopping suddenly, Naruto blinked. "Ahem!" he coughed, concentrating on dropping several octaves, "My name is Naruto and I like ramen...is this deep enough?"

"Hardly…" A pause. "But if your advisor is stupid, he'll believe it."

"Really? So I'll just hide my hair, and wear another shirt on top."

"Another shirt, moron won't hide—"

But Naruto already dove into the school store. A shop selling university merchandise and gear. Everyone present in the store had their attention riveted onto the blonde woman, especially the clerk, who followed with his eyes the whole time.

When he came to check out a navy blue cap and a bright yellow loose shirt, Naruto nervously foraged his pockets. He hadn't brought any money with him.

"Thirty three," said the clerk, sizing up the beauty before him. "But if you want, I can…"

In that moment, Sasuke reached forward with the exact amount of cash. Naturally, Naruto thanked him for the gesture, but he quickly saw the poorly masked anger flashing underneath the pale skin. Was Sasuke mad at him for impulsively buying clothes?

"She's yours?" asked the clerk slyly, but with an air of sharp contempt.

"A friend."

"Right," came the sarcastic dismissal. "Next."

They left the store thereafter. Naruto busied his hands with fitting all his hair into and underneath the cap. "Hey Sasuke, tell me, do I look convincing?"

Still annoyed from the store clerk, Sasuke only grunted in response.

"Hey," persisted the blond, fitting over the yellow shirt as well, "Come on, tell me! I look much better right?"

"You look the same," snapped the other, dark eyes thinning. "Nothing you wear will change anything."

"But you said I have a shot at getting my advisor to believe it, right?"

"Yes," he bit out. "But I doubt your advisor is a blind nitwit."

Glowing with hope, Naruto grinned. "Hey, you never know and that's good enough for me." He adjusted the hat one more time before adding, "You're right, Sasuke. This will blow over soon, so if I just pass this first trial, things will only get better."

Sasuke pretended indifference.

When they strode into the west building, Naruto began blathering, "Yeah tomorrow I'll be good as new. I remember you telling me Itachi's a legend in the sect. I'm not even worried anymore, because I know he'll have a fix for me. "

"What floor is the office on?" asked Sasuke, once again ignoring Naruto's repetitive divulgences.

"Eh, it's on the tenth I think. Hell, just wait here. I'll go up myself."

With that, Naruto dashed ahead and left his good friend behind in the magnificent halls of the main foyer. His adventure reached a point which requires solo effort, and a deep concentration overtook his whole being. Incognito. Mission: registration. Meeting astray glances of passerby, students, and various persons, Naruto tilted his cap further down, creating a shadow over his eyes. He darted up some several escalators in this fashion, hoping to attract no attention. And boy did it work.

Room seven. Dr. Hatake Kakashi: academic advisor and professor of cognitive psychology.

He knocked forcefully on the white door.

"Come in," he heard.

With pent up anxiety, he swung himself inside the office. "Hi," he greeted, while keeping his head down. This became his number one fear, and he felt so paranoid down to the very hairs on his skin.

"Naruto Uzumaki, correct?" came the lazy voice of the advisor.

"Yep, that's me!"

"Have a seat."

Naruto carefully moved for the chair, and slowly dropped into the seat vis-à-vis the professor. He noticed immediately that the man seemed preoccupied with reading a graphic novel of some sort on the plain desk separating them. Quirking an eyebrow, he squinted to see what the images on this novel were; and with the effort of his eyes, he captured….

Dr. Hatake snapped the book shut, and riveted his gaze onto Naruto. "Well, you came a little early. That's rather alright because I've been looking forward in meeting with you."

"Ah," he hummed automatically, as usual whenever you had nothing else to add.

"You stand out to me, Naruto. Your tuition is covered completely by a couple prestigious scholarships," The advisor elegantly moved up to adjust his glasses, and continued in a perfectly intrigued tone, "for your talents and record skill in the martial arts. Several dojos invested in your education…"

Naruto held back the itch to rub his head and hair. "Ah I was always interested from childhood and so I had a lot of practice. That's all."

"Hm," replied Kakashi, carefully eyeing Naruto's chest.

Freezing up, Naruto gulped when he perceived the focused stare. Until Kakashi finally said, "Isn't it pretty hot outside to be wearing so many layers of clothing?"

"I caught a cold, so no," he answered automatically.

"Hm. That could explain your peculiar voice."

Anxiety skyrocketed when he heard pen scratching over paper. He felt the hand of a ghost touch the back of his neck at the eerie sound. Seriously, just what was the advisor jotting down? Naruto felt his eyes almost bulge out of their sockets from the amount of intense strain he'd been experiencing.

"So, Naruto," hazarded Kakashi, eyes slanting up in some amusement, "Do you have any idea what you will be majoring in, or are you undecided for now?"

"I was thinkin' about studying art, just something easy while I train up for tournaments."

"Nothing's easy here," was the smooth reply. "But since you're undecided, we will focus on your pre-requisites for now."

Nodding in compliance he inquired, "Okay so what do you suggest I take?"

"I suggest you begin with the very basic. Expository writing, a basic science class, a general exposure requirement, and a class which we call an elective. In your case, I'd say either art history or film for your general requirement, while for science, go for introduction to psychology."

Naruto couldn't keep up with the lingo; man this advisor had no idea! "Uh-ah, yeah," he mumbled, lowering his head in bewilderment. "Yeah I agree."

Kakashi raised a brow, and with folded hands, leaned forward. "You agree with what?"

"What you said," he said instantly, turning rubicund. Did Dr. Hatake have to squeeze for confirmations constantly?

"Very well. I'll input this into the database. One moment."

All of a sudden, the printer roared to life and Naruto nearly jumped out of his seat. His startled response won an entertained glance from Kakashi who began saying, "You seem to be on edge."

"Me? On edge?" Naruto pointed back his thumb questioningly. "Far from it, sensei."

That's when he felt Kakashi's bespectacled gaze trail along his effeminate fingers, and then trace over his delicate tanned arms. Bristling, Naruto hugged his elbows and bought them to his chest. I should have worn a turtle neck! As if the scrutiny weren't enough and more had to be seen to make some conclusion, Kakashi let his eyes roam downwards and in that moment, he felt his bare legs being ogled at. I should have worn sweatpants! He clamped his womanly legs shut, pressing thighs together: for no man at the age of eighteen could have perfectly smooth, curvy extremities—and for a boy in the martial arts no less, Naruto hardly exhibited any muscle tone.

Oh how he wished he wore sweatpants and a turtle neck! How he wished for his advisor to be a blind nitwit like Sasuke described!

And now all is lost, for Kakashi Hatake definitely figured him out now if not before. What with his soft chin, cherubic face, poorly hidden plump chest, slender arms, supple thighs, and thin calves—there's no way—no way a doctor of Psychology would think he was anything but a female. It's all ove—

"If you say so," murmured the teacher, handing the printed paper over. "Get some rest, and I wish you have a speedy recovery."

As though a lightning bolt struck before him, Naruto froze completely in awe. He barely managed to utter, "Thank you."

And so, raising a nerve wrought hand for the paper, he was about to peel it off the desk when the grip on the paper tightened. Kakashi wasn’t letting go so easily. Naruto shot up a confused stare. However at once he saw the twinkle gleaming in his teacher's expression, and when he heard the words following soon after, he blanched.

"And the next time we meet, I’d love to hear more about your story." Kakashi pulled back, a smirk passing imperceptibly.

Quickly, Naruto stumbled out of the office, paper in hand, but heart in his throat. Did his advisor know? Now more than ever he prayed for Itachi's medicine.

Chapter 2: Displacement

Notes:

A/N: Revised as of 2/08/2019.

Chapter Text

 

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.

.

Eerie. Dim lit silence.

By the burning candle wicks, they sit equally immersed in the solemn air. Waiting.

"How do we know if he's even coming," urges Naruto, hugging his chest in impatience. "He's not picking up the phone and it's almost seven."

"It's not seven yet," adds Sasuke, in his usual bored tone.

Not seven yet! With one minute or rather a half a minute ticking left, it's practically seven. Whatever. Naruto bites his lip. Might as well get cozy. You know, if there's one awesome thing about being a guest at someone's house: their food. Without shame, Naruto plunders all of Sasuke's kitchen pantries like a Viking starved for weeks. After treating himself to a buffet, Naruto plops back on the couch. 

Slurrp. Swwwiiiiip!

Delicious sweet tea. Naruto sucks on the straw, but not before commenting, "Dude, what flavor is this? There's no way you bought this...I can tell Itachi's sweet tooth made the buying decision here..."

Sasuke's eye twitches imperceptibly and even tells him to shut up. What a stickler. Can't even handle slurping noises, grumbles Naruto. He opens his mouth to fire a heated string of imprecations and to tell the bastard to turn on the TV so they don't die of the plague that is boredom--yet the sound of a key turning interrupts him. His pounding pulse instantly swells his throat.

Click. Twing

At once Sasuke goes out to greet his brother, while Naruto sits back immobilized by fear. This moment now crashes down like an avalanche. He's sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office, waiting for a life or death verdict.

"Little brother, what a surprise," he heard Itachi's voice several paces away. "I thought you’d be out partying.”

Naruto roared in laughter at the absurd idea. Sasuke partying? That’s something. The guy’s an incredible home-body. In fact, one of his resolutions this year was to get Sasuke out of his shell and drunk as at some frat party during their freshman year. He really wanted to do stupid shit together and laugh about it when they’re older. But how was he going to get that done as a woman? Naruto scratches his chin—no longer, of course, chiseled as it once was, but some soft mound instead.

"I see. You’ve brought a lady over," muses Itachi.

Eh, so much for being discrete. For with the gait of a calm wind, Itachi entered the main living area. Naruto gulps, suddenly feeling unready for this. When their eyes met, he breathes with difficulty—hardly keeping composure against those narrow, omniscient dark orbs.

Itachi’s eyes fall onto his body. Well, Naruko’s body. Not much to see as Naruko hides in an oversized, offensive, and orange T-shirt. Let’s not forget the basketball shorts and sandals to complete the tomboy look.

Naruto takes off the stupid cap he used to fool Kakashi, and grins. Although all the long blond hair falls over and gets in his mouth, and how do you keep such long hair from sticking inside? Geez. Naruto spits out some hair and a, “Hi Itachi!”

"You have a familiar air," murmurs Itachi, looking down at the distressed woman. "Have we met?"

He scrambles off the sofa in an attempt to gather himself properly. "Y-yes. Yes we have!"

When Itachi takes his hand and shakes it, a small smile passed those lips. Naruto feels his eyes widen.

"Ah," came the sage sound of revelation. "In different circumstances."

Yes, yes, yes! Naruto moves in closer. Itachi's this slot machine cashing out: millions. He almost confesses right then and there. That is, before Sasuke cuts in between them with a mask of scorn—silently warns Naruto not to overextend, with a single wag of the brows. But what's Sasuke worried about? Shouldn't we just get straight to the point?

Without removing his penetrating gaze off Naruto's wide doe eyes, Itachi says, "Forgive me little brother, how long have I made you and this beautiful woman wait?”

Naruto bolts upright at the words. Beautiful woman?

Even Sasuke seems perturbed, given that he freezes in shock. Before finally affirming, “Dinner’s been sitting out for the past hour. We’ve been hoping to speak with you on…”

“On what?” prompts Itachi, eyes glossing over with practiced patience.

At this, Sasuke scoffs, crossing his arms. “Really? You’re going to play blind?”

Pacing around the contemporary space, Itachi finally asserts, "There's some pent up burden, I noticed it immediately. Well since you leave me to guess…"

Both Sasuke and Naruto remain at loss for words while exchanging glances as Itachi inspects the room inch by inch. Sasuke's letting this go on, and for what?  In response to Naruto's wavering blue eyes, Sasuke signs his confidence by nodding his head slightly. But was it that difficult for Sasuke to admit the problem? Is it something else, and if so will it stop him from getting Itachi's help? Naruto bristles at the idea.

"You’ve removed the katana from here, Sasuke," Itachi remarks plainly, though his eyes gleamed with curiosity.

The random comment thrusts Sasuke in and out of deep brooding. "I did move it," he confirms. “I thought it was best suited in the shrine, rather than at home where we bring guests.”

"That katana belonged to Madara Uchiha," murmurs the older brother.

To which Naruto rubs the back of his neck, feeling himself displaced from the house rather than the relic. So much fuss over an inanimate object, made no sense to him. He even observes his friend's reaction, and Sasuke actually appears to be very affected by Itachi's transient disappointment.

That’s when Itachi places a hand on the nearest wall, closing his eyes while mouthing several words silently. Like some incantation. Both Naruto and Sasuke exchange glances again, however this time, they watch curiously what the man was conjuring—for surely he seemed to be casting a spell. Especially with how Itachi's one of those that possesses special abilities, the kind which makes him naturally slightly unorthodox.

In that moment, right when they lean forward in anticipation, Itachi's eyes flutter open and under long lashes he entreats, "My dearest little brother be truthful to me, have you maintained the family shrine?"

"I did as you said," answers Sasuke.

"Yes but do tell me—when did you last enter the shrine?"

"Yesterday night…" he describes cautiously, even hesitantly. "I went in, cleansed the well, and read the prayers. After that I sealed the door with what you gave me."

Itachi's eyes briefly drifts to Naruto. "Perfect, almost perfect…except for a single minute detail." Some pitying, sympathetic smile overtook his expression. "I specifically reminded you to attend on the night of a new moon, and you instead attended on a…"

"Full moon," finishes Sasuke, eyes widening. "I didn't even realize, I’m—"

"No need," cuts in Itachi, voice perfectly tranquil that it irks the both of them. "A mistake such as this, as you'll see, is beyond a simple apology."

The way the words resonate in the air, sends a shiver down their spines.

"I'm not perfect when it comes to religious dealings. If you asked for anything else, I wouldn't fail you."

Itachi cranes an elegantly exposed neck to look back at his younger brother. "Yes, if it were anything else. I don't doubt it.”

However Naruto rubs his chin thoughtfully. "You said you felt other distortions in the house. Do you know what exactly?"

"I would need a confirmation as with all things."

Sasuke darkens. "Just tell us what the other 'distortions' are? I'll confirm if it's true or not."

Naruto catches a flash of light in Itachi's eyes, and freezes in sudden anticipation.

"Something you want me to acknowledge, little brother?"

And suddenly, Naruto's panting like he's at the finish line, so close. So damned close. But he trips over an unseen rock, and that rock, it's Sasuke. Sasuke stops the race, causing him to fall prostrate painfully. He'll never get the truth not when Sasuke's caught up with whatever brotherly feud it was this time.

Naruto couldn't take it anymore. "Just say it's me!" he shouts, in that terribly high-pitched voice.

"You?"

"It's me, Naruto! You said I was familiar, didn't ya? That we met in different circumstances," he rambles breathlessly, "Sasuke said you could help me change back into…myself."

Instead of shock or incredulity, Itachi's expression remains unhinged.

"You already knew," accuses Sasuke who notices the lack of astoundment.

"I did."

"Why didn't you say anything then? Is this family charades, or what? Some damned guessing game around the fireplace for hell's sake? " fires off Naruto like the female captain of a pirate ship, a woman's voice spilling over his lips. "If you knew who I was then why'd you pretend otherwise?!"

"Patients open cases with the doctor, not the other way around. What if you didn't want help? I don't interfere unless asked."

Delicate blond brows quiver. "How'd you know anyway…I obviously don't look the same."

Itachi silently looms over him for a long moment. Finally he says, "For me it's very easy to tell. Your chakra signature is the same except for two points. And I picked up on secondary cues as minute as your accent, similar appearance, and mannerisms. Moreover, you have a unique compatibility with my brother...his energy changes around your presence. In ways you might not guess."

The tidbit at the end flies over Sasuke's head, who instead narrows his eyes. "Well? Can you do anything about it?"

"There's no reward for impatience. Even if I gave you the answers you wanted, your feelings for Naruto acts like an impenetrable bias."

"We aren't in the mood for jokes, Itachi."

Watching the ping-pong ball being thrown back and forth, Naruto keeps himself in the sidelines.

"I was never making a joke, only honestly admitting your unique connection with Naruto."

"What does that have to do with anything? "

"That would be the million dollar question, which we will save for another time."

The flames remits into a shroud of ice. "Dismiss and defer may be your tried-and-true tactic but it isn't mine. We straighten this out now." 

"Patience, little brother," Itachi responds, with the wave of a hand. "Perhaps you understand solving a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle requires more than a handful of minutes. How about selecting us some relaxing herbs, which I feel all of us could use. Naruto and I will wait for you to brew it, go."

A cloud of darkness hovers over his friend’s expression. “Fine, I suppose I’ll reheat dinner too.”

When Sasuke disappears, Itachi pulls up very close, lowering only very slightly. "Come with me," he whispers.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, and much like a trusting puppy, Naruto pads after him outside. Not a single creak or peep as they exit the home and cut across several paces in the freezing night, silently as if they floated the whole way there. There…being the Uchiha family shrine.

A couple statues inhabit the candle-lit space. According to legend, these statues represent the deities that watch over the Uchiha clan. In fact, Itachi’s told the story many times—the Uchihas were both blessed and cursed, depending on how you looked at it.

Itachi led him further into the holy space, before soundlessly shutting the temple’s gates. "Do you want my help, Naruto?"

Of course, that's why I came up all the way here. "Yeah. I do."

"Then let’s not waste anymore time." Itachi says plainly. "Climb down this well.”

Naruto's mind blanks out into oblivion. "Eh-eh…why?!"

Itachi kneels beside the stony edges of the well, taking up an old parchment scroll into his hands. "If you’ve been touched by the Gods or a demon, I’d like to test that out," he answers neutrally, not even looking up.

One glance down the well, and Naruto gulps. How old is this well? He swears he saw a couple bones down at the pit. Great. Nonetheless, Naruto hoists himself over the edge, grabbing a hold of a fragile but pliable ladder. It doesn’t smell as bad as he thought, but it was probably the incenses that Sasuke lit earlier this evening.

As Naruto climbs further down, he freezes. Legit a skeleton. What the hell died in here?

"So how far down exactly do I needa go, huh?” he grinds out.

Itachi glances up from the scroll he's reading. "The fact I still see your head popping out, you aren’t even close." A brief but deep pause of consideration. "Are you afraid? I will be here to pull you out. Go on.”

Damn it to hell. Naruto looks down at himself like he's reconsidering: and no. No. Whatever it takes to win his manhood back. Uncertainty skyrockets to unbelievable thresholds; and even as he remembers how well Sasuke spoke of his brother, that this may be his only hope. With clenched fists, he rappels into the depth of the well and embraces its cold lonely air.

“I’m here and there’s a whole lotta of bones.”

Naruko’s high-pitched voice bounces.

After the echo subsides, he hears Itachi mutter some stuff in almost a prayer of some sort.

"What's the plan?" he questioned.

But no answer. Every second down here creeped the boogers out of him, Naruto stands as close to the ladder as a quick exit. Nothing jumped at him so he calmed down. He pats his own chest in a sigh of relief, accidentally tapping the right perky breast. Now that was scary. He’s not used to being a chick yet. Not sure if he’ll ever be.

Just as he sniggers, he calls out, “Oi, Itachi! Can I come up now? I’m kinda hungry. This place stinks, ya know?”

That’s when the floor beneath him rumbles. Like a low-grade earthquake, enough to shake Naruto. What the hell’s happening? As he holds himself up, he hears a cracking sound.

A fucking hand shoots up from the earth. Clawing at him.

“AH! ITACHI! Get me out! Get me outta here! Zombies—they’re real—”

The soiled hand wiggles and an arm continues to claw its way out of the earth. Was someone buried alive? And that arm…it looked familiar. In fact, its skin tone didn’t appear “zombie like”, Naruto squinted further, and upon closer inspection appeared more human rather. Next thing he knows, he kneels beside. He digs the earth around the base of the arm, just enough for the crown of the head to appear.

Blond.

“Oh shit, shit, shit. There’s a person down here, Itachi!”

Like a mad man—or woman, he should say—he scoops more of the soil out the way.

“Who do you see?” came Itachi’s response.

More blond hair. Then blue eyes. It was…

“It can’t be…what the…”

“Who?”

“I see—it’s…me…well, it’s the real me….”

Actually, it mouths something to him. A whisper. Coarse voice: get me outta here, it begs him. And without wasting a second, Naruto grabs his clone’s arm and pulls with all his might. Like when Arthur had to pull the magical sword out of the rock, or something ridiculously impossible. But in this woman’s body, he feels strength drain quickly.

His clone becomes nasty. Becomes so impatient, its eyes gleam red, and it grabs a hold of him.

“You can’t get me out of here, it's futile,” it growls. “Then I’m taking you with me.”

Another arm sprouts from the earth like this was an uprising of the dead. Before Naruto could lurch back, the clone grips his ankles like whip chains. In fact, the arms lose shape—revealing the true form. Vines around his ankles, trips him, and drags him into the pit. The earth around becomes a warp hole….to hell.

Or what seemed hell. Because just yonder stands a silver silhouette of a woman.

“Give me back my chakra.”

“My what-now?”

She transforms into a grueling monster. Now he’s inches away from a whale’s mouth. Did whales have sharp pointy teeth though? Guess this was the end, huh. Naruto balls both his fists ready to put up a fight to his death. Until, that is, he hears Itachi from above.

"Water release," intercedes Itachi, in a deep commanding voice.

A geyser forms. Water rushes in from all angles. That is, a majestic waterfall rescues him, and the power of Niagara Falls shoots him out of the well. Naruto feels several pairs of arms pull him away from the well’s edge.

He coughs up water from his lungs. What the hell was that? Transported into another dimension? When every ounce of life in him kindles and tingles, he coughs up more water. Wincing, Naruto reaches for the perfect collar of Itachi’s shirt. Ignoring how cold and heavy he felt, he glares into Itachi’s eyes. You’d want an explanation for a bizarre ordeal too.  It looked like some ritual about chakra. His chakra.

Naruto straightens up, but a dizzying spell casts over him. Or was it adrenaline leaving his veins? "Damn it. Just what exactly was that? Send me into another dimension, holy fuck!" he growls. He's about to rush up and snatch a fistful of Itachi, and demand for a better explanation. There's got to be a better explanation, got to be! However...

“You moron. You go digging your grave when I’m not around?”

Naruto's eyes snaps wide open, reacting to Sasuke's voice.

“I would never allow it, little brother. Although it was a close call I’d say…”

Sasuke wasn't looking at Itachi, but strictly ascertains Naruto's state. At once, dark eyes arrest on the drenched form. The orange T-shirt lost its intense color, and clings to Naruko’s breasts. Pert nipples peek through easily and blond hair stuck to Naruto’s round face. Sasuke whipped his eyes away, lips frowning.

 "What were you both doing in here?" he demands icily. "You said you'd wait for me, and the moment I'm gone…”

"I examined Naruto," answers Itachi, appearing calm as an undisturbed pond.

Scowling, Sasuke bites out, "With the gates locked?"

"The gates lock automatically when shut, you know this."

“Damn it Sasuke," snaps Naruto, choking on his own words. "I saw...myself buried alive down there. I tried pulling him—me—out of there. Then it tries to fucking eat me." To be thrust in that other dimension, what if he'd been stuck there?

Sasuke now glares at his brother. “What does that mean, Itachi?”

“Yeah, Itachi. You said somethin’ about Gods and demons.”

Itachi tucks the scroll into his pocket. “I couldn’t say entirely. Except, this is what happens when you perform the ritual on the full moon, Sasuke. I believe you’ve awakened Kaguya, the Mother of Chakra. And she’s taken an interest in you…and Naruto.”

Shadows dance across Sasuke’s face, and he turns away as if burned. Guilt crawls up Naruto's throat, and he goes to follow his friend's now retreating figure—but Itachi reels him back.

"Naruto, your change may be permanent," says Itachi lowly, delivering the words like fucking ice bullets, no matter how soft of a gel they're covered in. "I'll have to reassess," he continues, "and research more into the nature of the spell.”

“But Sasuke. He didn’t really cause this?”

Itachi never blinks. "Sasuke is the reason, Naruto. And I need to find out if it's accidental, or intentional."

Sasuke. The reason? "I-Itachi," Naruto groans, putting out a hand against the wall. The news is worse than he prepared for. "What the, man, come on. No, just...how?"

With that, Itachi taps his shoulder assuringly, before heading back into house.

Intentionally? Sasuke intentionally would do this? What the...what the shit! Itachi's a quack, no way! Furious and bewildered, Naruto walks with the sway of his shoulders, attempting to move fluidly …to no avail. So this is how it felt to be a woman? This easily debilitated, and weakened? God damn it, what's wrong with him.

Suppressing all outward signs, Naruto doesn't want his friend ever to know how afraid he felt. Therefore he puts on a great smile enough to blind even the blind, and Naruto enters the place Sasuke's occupying: by the hearth in the living room.

"Hey," he prods. Seeing his friend completely unhinged, he repeats, "Earth to Sasuke. Hello?"

Sasuke turns on him at last, perched in the chair. Like the calm before the storm. "Are you going to tell me what exactly went on in that room?"

Naruto falters for a moment. "I told ya, didn't I? You oughta be more trusting."

"I turn my back for one moment, and you rendezvous with my brother," spat Sasuke, leaning back with a sharp look of contempt.

Naruto fans out the shirt in hopes it wouldn’t stick to his chest as much.  "Come on, forget it. And for cryin' out loud what's your problem? I don't understand why you're being so hateful. Been bitter like a lemon all evening."

"No, I'm not bitter. I'm not hateful, I just don't like you. Naïve idiot."

"Because I trusted your brother? He’s my one ticket to getting a normal life back. What did you want me to do? Come on, don't start a family feud when we've got bigger problems to fry. Like the fact that I'm a woman and let's face it, this is a problem of a lifetime."

"You saw bones in the well. Did you think those were there for decoration?" retorts Sasuke. "Those belong to all who died in there.”

“W-what?”

“Our ancestors have been known to throw human sacrifices into that well. In exchange for power.”

“But Itachi wasn’t sacrificing me…”

“No. He used you as bait. Which means I could have lost—”

Sasuke stops himself, and completely turns away.

When meeting with only silence, Naruto paces nervously. Sasuke, did you do this to me? The question's implanted into his brain. That'd explain why Sasuke believed him almost right away. Sasuke's reaction to his gender change was of surprise, but not like Kiba's. And now what if Sasuke's bitter and aggravated towards Itachi because Itachi knew the truth?! That's why the guessing game, the way Sasuke would stall! Holy shit what if Itachi's right? What if it's intentional?

Naruto strenuously bites down the nausea and headache threatening to overwhelm him any moment. However, he endures and soon adapts to its continuous presence. Damn it! Naruto struggles to keep his smile afloat...

Grinding his teeth, Naruto screws his eyes shut at the dilemma. "Well," he drawls, putting on his cap, "You've been a great, big help. I'm going home."

Sasuke shoots out of his seat. Like lightning he yanks the ruffled blond forward. "You can't go."

"All my stuff's there, Sasuke! And where else am I going to go?"

"Kiba won't recognize you. Just wait here with me."

They hold each other's gazes for some time, until Naruto pulls away first. "I…I think it's not a good idea. You obviously need to sort things out with your brother..."

"No. I said stay," growls Sasuke, jerking the dainty wrists towards him. "I'll go and pick up whatever you need from your home."

Blinking in confusion, and the sudden closeness, Naruto manages, "You'd do that for me? I mean…yeah since you offered, I guess…I'll stay here and wait."

"Write me a list. And I should be back within twenty minutes," he says softly.

"Yo I just want my phone, laptop, and toothbrush." Naruto shrugs. "How about I just go with you? I'll stay in the car while you go and grab my things. Not like I'd rather sit around here."

In fact, Sasuke doesn't want Naruto alone with Itachi, and thus he tightens his hold on the thin wrist. "Good."

He doesn't want to be alone either, truthfully. "Alright so…" wiggling out of the iron grasp, Naruto treads into the foyer. Slipping on Sakura's sandals. "After we get my toothbrush and phone, I'll crash the night here. Your place. Since you offered."

"Yes." Moron, was the unsaid addition, which Naruto hears in his mind.

"Just making sure," he defends. Then tilting up his head in wonderment, "It's been a really long time since I crashed your place, Sasuke. The last time was probably years ago, when I got snowed in and couldn't get home. You let me sleep over."

"Hn."

Grinning, he fumbles around with his cap, shifting it side to side. "Man. Do you remember? I got a little jealous at how you had the whole house to yourself. Your brother always being gone that time."

Walking in tandem with Sasuke into the driveway, he continues mischievously, "You liked having me around that night. We chilled and I introduced you to some fun games, which you apparently never thought existed."

At the press of a remote, Sasuke's car lights up to life, and the locks unhinge. They both dive in, and upon slamming the doors shut, Naruto gazes out the window looking down at the moonlit hills, which the road curves up and around, seemingly an endless path. Yet seeing his reflection in the side mirrors of the car—he stops and stares at the image of a perfect Dresden doll. Imagine looking at yourself, from above. But instead of recognizing, you observe yourself as a foreign entity. He stares into the bluest eyes of someone else. No matter how hard he squinted…

The engine roars to life and snaps him out of the daze. He glances at Sasuke, who's immersed in shifting his car's manual gears. At least Sasuke would be his pillar of security, unswayed and strongly intact: his best friend. Nothing would change between them.

"Tonight'll be just like the good ol' days," Naruto says, despite the sinking feeling in his chest, and he rubs his hands together.

 

 

Chapter 3

Notes:

Betas: AlexConfused & Darkly Dreaming Allie
This was posted on ff.net a long time ago, whoops sorry!

Chapter Text

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Ever since Itachi thrust him into the cold, miserable 'dimension'…he felt awareness and sensitivity to everything: the air against his skin, the whooshes of breath filling his lungs, the cramps in his abdomen turning and flipping.

At last Naruto gazed through the open car window, he squinted into the distance. There—he could see his apartment building. But the lights weren't on. Without a shadow of doubt, he saw his apartment window reflecting only the orange glow from the street lamps.

"What are you doing, Sasuke," he groaned, throwing his head back, "Why are you taking so long?"

As if answering his question, in that moment he saw Sasuke dart out into the street from the building. In a flash, his friend crossed the road and swung into the driver's seat. The bag in his pale hands already tossed into Naruto's lap.

"Everything you asked for," said Sasuke, strapping on the seatbelt.

After foraging the contents, he smiled weakly. "Thanks. And Kiba?"

"Asleep."

"Ah, okay."

For a long moment, they stared into each other's eyes. Something flashed in Sasuke. Like a rare comet flitting through the night, something incredibly amazing but fleeting. Naruto blinked, feeling the random collision of their gazes overwhelm him, especially when an obscured feeling sparked…

Anxious, he automatically blurted, "What is it, ya bastard? Let's get a move on."

Unfazed by the boyish teasing, Sasuke remains steadfast.

"You're feeling hot?"

"I'm guessing you can tell by all the sweat, huh? Hell, you don't even know how bad I'm cramping up." Naruto grinned, while rubbing the perspiration off his forehead with a swift swipe of his hand. "And I thought a woman's body naturally sweated less! Guess some things won't change."

Sasuke leaned over. "Moron," he murmured. "You don't know a thing about women."

"Of course I do—ah—eh? What are you doing?" cried Naruto, stiffening at the physical contact. He felt so sensitive! Why?

Pressing slender fingers against Naruto's radial pulse, Sasuke narrowed his eyes in deep thought. He seemed completely apathetic to Naruto's nervous twitching. "Hn. Not good," he sighed.

Their faces only a scant inch apart, he could feel their heats collide. Like two powerful auras brimming against each other. His hackles rose, and goose bumps bloomed all over. Even though his friend seemed absorbed completely elsewhere, he zoomed into Sasuke's parted lips. Why? As if struck by lightning, Naruto's eyes widened and quickly he looked away. The closeness. That's why. When you're just in someone's face, naturally you examine the details of that person's features. But lips, come on? Sasuke's lips. His conscience beat him up for even looking at the outlines…the perfect shapes and skin…damn it, here we go again!

Shaking his head of these thoughts, Naruto swallowed thickly. "What's not good? Besides the fact that I'm a woman. Hell, obviously I'm not good. Who wants to be a girl? Not me."

"Your fever."

The answer sounded so clipped...almost as if annoyed by his response.

With that, Sasuke pulled away and the car roared to life; yet, Naruto couldn't tell if it was the engine or Sasuke growling because his friend seemed extremely aggravated the whole drive. Never speaking another word. Never sparing a glance. Masterfully maneuvering their way back home with admirable focus. However, Naruto watched the unnervingly thick cloud hovering over his friend…as if some storm brewed underneath the perfect porcelain skin. He couldn't decipher the danger or its depth. But, he hoped Sasuke wasn't too annoyed by him.

After they'd parked in the driveway, Naruto could barely feel his own arms. Spaghetti limbs couldn't open doors; not only that but his mind melted into spaghetti too. Hell. He felt like he was shrinking…and other times he felt huge. As if his mind couldn't get out of a wonderland, where witches tortured his body. Teasing him senselessly.

"Come on," urged Sasuke, holding the door open.

Ah he's waiting. "Alright, just one sec—ah, almost—hah—" He felt Sasuke hook him in an embrace, pulling him out of the car.

Panicking, Naruto managed to croak, "Hold on, this is unnecessary…I can walk!"

"Idiot. I was waiting a whole minute for you to come out. Obviously you can't."

A minute? His eyes widened, as he felt himself hoisted up. "Put me down. Dude, this is embarrassing! I got this. I can walk. I don't need this kind of help."

No use. Sasuke's arms remained secured under his back and under the groove of his knees, scooping him up. Naruto flushed even more when, upon the panicky turn of his head, he accidentally pressed his face into Sasuke's shirt. And the scent of rain and vanilla trailed straight into his brain. His best friend smelled great.

"Gah! N-no…mmph," he barely said, voice muffled by the shirt, he whipped his face away from Sasuke's chest. "Hey Lancelot, I said I got this!"

While for Sasuke, he only heard gibberish and incoherent whines, and continued to hold the shivering form in his arms. Unconsciously he tightened his hold as soon as Naruto's legs flailed putting up a fight; each kick weak until finally sapped of their energy; they dangled in a typical bridal style carry, swaying with every step he took.

"This is my fault." Sasuke glowered, a piercing scowl contorting his whole expression.

"I don’t believe that.”

“It is. I re-invited the curse back into our lives.”

Through half-lidded eyes, Naruto could see fury flashing in the other, blaring like sunlight. "The fuck are you talking about?”

"You don’t remember in this life, but I do," came the deeply tempestuous reply.

Muscles that went limp before, rattled at the words. "But 'Suke…" His heart tore: which is strange because he hardly felt anything else along his body. "Remember what? Listen, maybe..."

The stutters and stammers emblazoned Sasuke even more. "What?" he demanded coldly.

That's when the world spun out of control at three hundred kilometers per minute. Oh hell; like some fanatical roller coaster ride. He gasped when he felt his head bob up and down. Until he saw it was because Sasuke carried him up the stairs.

"How can you say we’re cursed? Take it back…"

Naruto heard his own words float in the air like a wistful melody. A lovely woman's voice…even if she cussed like a delinquent.

Ignoring the command, Sasuke set his feverish friend onto the bed, and immediately went to search through his drawers for some tools. Upon grabbing a thermometer from one of the shelves, he returned back to the bedside. Sasuke quietly assessed the vitals: as he wedged the thermometer into Naruto's armpit, and wrapped the blood pressure cuff snugly over the brachial pulse.

"Ne, Sasuke…" blinked Naruto, "I didn't know you had all this. Come on, I'm invincible! Trust me when I say that this is not necessary."

"You're running a fever," cut in Sasuke sharply. "That's far from invincible, moron."

Naruto struggled to prop himself up on an elbow. "Listen 'm sweating a lot. So you probably want me on the floor or…or something."

"No."

"But…I think I'll throw up soon."

Sasuke gestured at the bin he stationed by the bedside. "Then throw up in here."

Something about Sasuke's perfect bulwark of determination…stabilized his coiling vision. The stroke of concern lacing his friend's tone (a note which sounded misplaced), and even worry contorting his features ever so subtly: Naruto almost felt reassured, as if he heard the court rule a verdict to his bettering health. Almost. But he then remembered Sasuke's ill words "we’re cursed", and a revolting bubbling in his stomach beat him full force.

"Actually—pass me that bin. I feel a wave coming on," he moaned, swaying with nausea. "Ugh…"

After heaving the contents of his stomach, Naruto wiped at the smidgens of bile around his mouth. His throat burned from the acid, and he quivered from the intense convulsions. Just when he thought it was over, another sickening aura set in, and Naruto gurgled up more into the bin. Until finally he dropped limp into the bed, too exhausted. As if his nervous system dispatched a cease and desist on his uneasy abdomen.

Fluttering his eyes open, he looked up at Sasuke. "Gross, right? Still want me in your bed?"

"Yes." There's not a sliver of doubt. Perfect confidence in Sasuke, resolute as ever.

He couldn't even put up a fight in this state. Thus, Naruto merely shook his head. "It's just I know how much of a neat freak you are, and you never let me mess up your perfectly perfect…everything. Eh—Sasuke? Where…"

Apparently Sasuke had gone out of the room. Blinking slowly, he lifted his head up slightly. "Hey! I was talking!"

Awkward pauses passed. And still no Sasuke. This fever, this headache, and all this pain in his lower belly, straight up jacked his mind from keeping track of anything! He swore he felt Sasuke near him. And the second he heard his friend return through the doorway, Naruto was about to launch off angrily, fists clenched, but…

Itachi ! Seeing the man's form, his silhouette, the penetrating gaze: Naruto iced up into perfect stillness.

"You," he said, almost accusatory.

Itachi's lips quirked in a frown. "Not feeling well, I see."

Heart racing, Naruto furrowed his brows in bewilderment.

"What gave it away?" he asked sarcastically. But seeing Itachi unfazed, he probed further, "Just give it to me straight, come on. What's wrong with me? I can tell you know!"

"I’m sure we could discuss this later," Itachi said, with utmost softness.

"No. I—I can handle it! I promise I can handle it. You know I never go back on my word, so just tell me!"

Itachi kept his distance, but his eyes shone with familiarity. "Let my brother tend to you for the night. The news I have to tell you, can wait."

The words. They felt like boulders plummeting to his soul. News? Bad news? No he couldn't wait. He didn't care anymore how bad it was. No one understands, no one gets it. What do you do when a stroke of malice flings you into cold outer space? What's supposed to stop you from infinitely swirling into literally nothing? But the fact that he felt himself spun out of control, from nothing or from something. No one seems to get it. Waking up one morning as a woman when you're a guy, does anyone get such an absurd calamity?

"I don't care just say it."

Itachi considered him for a moment. "Your body’s recovering from your encounter. Even without consuming you, it still managed to absorb some of your chakra. Your body is trying to compensate by over-heating.”

“So that explains why I feel like shit. Am I going to be stuck this way? Y'know...being a chick and all...”

"Very likely," murmured Itachi, the smile evaporating. "I still need time to research. Although…I also sense a change in you. The start of a new month, what do you think that translates to in a woman's world, Naruto?"

Naruto blinks. "I don't understand."

"Female biology doesn't ring a bell? You know what I'm referring to. Woman's cycles."

Do you hear this ? Naruto asked God, why him? But instead he voiced the question to Itachi. "Why?" Why me…

"Because of Sasuke."

"No," Naruto fired back. "This has nothing to do with him."

Itachi tilted his head up, as if in wonderment. "Yes, I'm also somewhat surprised by it."

So, that's it. His life was over. Because there's no way Sasuke's involved in this. Menstrual periods, is this for real? Holy hell. Half of him nearly burst out laughing, while the other half of him became hypothermic with icy terror. The dichotomy forming in his heart overtook his facial muscles; and Naruto felt half of his features twitching, and the other completely still. An awkward portrait of someone who felt completely awkward.

He couldn't even seriously meet Itachi's gaze. Instead, his bright bangs overshadowed his defeated expression; and he was infinitely thankful for the golden veil blocking the windows to his soul. For this way, no one could see the wetness in one of his eyes.

"I—I can't stay like this. Change me back," he growled, but instead it came out as a woman's nagging tone. He cringed at the sound of it.

"I'll try."

Naruto nearly shot up with hope. "You'll find a way, I believe it!" he whisked out.

At that moment, Sasuke returned. "I haven’t forgiven you for throwing Naruto down there," he quipped. "If you’re planning more bullshit behind my back…”

The tension thickened. Sasuke's burning fury clashed with Itachi's cloud of purity. Brothers clashed like two opposites, canceling each other's energies out. Before Sasuke could press for further inquiries, Itachi excused himself and left. Thus, he turned on Naruto with burning demands. "What did he say?"

Pure dread bumbled in his stomach like lava. How the hell does one come out of the closet and say, 'Bro, I'm on my period?!'. Exactly.

"That I'm probably wrecked for good," he almost wailed. "I don't want to believe it but…what if it's true, Sasuke?"

"Open your mouth," commanded Sasuke, leaning over him, "Lift up your tongue."

"Why?"

"Do it," he repeated patiently.

Raising a brow, Naruto also raised his tongue up. "Wha—eh…medicine?"

"Absorbs instantly when it's sublingual," said Sasuke.

"I know that," he growled. Why did Sasuke have to assume he knew nothing? "I just didn't expect it!"

Ignoring the defensive-aggressive chatter, Sasuke continued. "I put Sakura's bag of clothes right by here. Change into something dryer and lighter while I'm gone. I'll bring you some water."

"With some honey," added Naruto, before being left completely alone. Again.

Fine, well, not a bad idea at all; considering how diaphoretic he felt and how his clothes stuck to him like paste—changing into something dry sounded extremely appealing. So appealing, a surge of energy rushed through his system and he scrambled off the bed. With Sasuke gone and the door locked, he yanked off the damp orange t-shirt, undid the bra (as soon as it came off it equaled instant relief), and kicked off his basketball shorts. Being nude felt downright refreshing but sinful—he tried not to look at himself. And thus, he fumbled through Sakura's garments with growing dread. They all seemed either tight or designed with complex layers and the idea of wearing any of it simply drained his spirit. Perhaps…perhaps Sasuke wouldn't mind lending…?

Swaying like an unsteady pillar, Naruto made way to Sasuke's dresser. "He won't mind…"

Of course he won't mind. Heck, they've done it before. Well…on accident they'd swapped; but still! However as he rummaged around, something unusual caught his eye inside the drawer; a sort of object which stood out like an open festering wound. Naruto zoomed in on it. What could it be?

A journal?  Naruto's eyes widened, struck dumb.

"No way!" He took it instantly into his hands, inspecting the small book. "I can't believe he'd have one of these…"

"Dream Journal", it said on the plain black cover.

Flipping it open, he saw Sasuke's perfect handwriting: lots of it, lining every page. Seeing each page dated daily sent his heart racing. So Sasuke wrote in this every day?! He almost cussed under his breath in sheer astonishment. He'd never pegged Sasuke for one to own a journal. For finding this secret hidden treasure felt like finding an undiscovered terrain: a whole world to be explored. He felt winded at the thought of it.

Bum. Bum.

When he heard the two knocks, he automatically said, "Hm."

Though as soon as he heard the door knob turn, Naruto jumped. Wait—he still needed to put on a shirt and he just blurted out an affirmation—ah shoot! In a jerk reflex, he threw the journal back into the drawer. And grabbing anything at all, any shirt his fingers could hook onto, he flattened it out and dug in two arms. Though it was too late.

"What are you doing, moron?"

When he turned to see Sasuke standing by the doorway, he cried, "Don't get mad at me Sasuke…I just was going to borrow a shirt, nothing else."

Perhaps turning around was a bad idea…

Instead of delivering a comeback, Sasuke only silently stared at him. And Naruto's breath hitched when he saw Sasuke redden…becoming just as rubicund as he was. Contrasting emotions clashed within his friend's silent expression, whose delicate brows twitched once or twice. Sasuke briefly closed his eyes in a grimace, and rubbed at his temples.

That's right, he was still bare chested. The burning heat from the fever now amplified from Naruto's sheer embarrassment. Quickly, he pulled the shirt down similar to how curtains close at the end of a show. In fact the size was rather large so the shirt covered his upper thighs as well; though that really didn't matter since he still wore his trusty ol' boxers. What mattered now—was the intense scrutiny of his friend…Sasuke was drilling him a mixed look of flustered-confident quietude.

He saw me in this form. God damn it!  Naruto flushed into a portrait of a red sunset. Because of that impassive, unreadable gaze. What, did Sasuke feel disgusted? Not because of the female anatomy but because he, Naruto Uzumaki, had female parts?

In that moment, Sasuke slowly said, "I knocked."

"I know." Shit…

A very amused smirk gradually perked up in Sasuke. "You decided to wear my clothes?"

"I…don't feel well. Didn't really feel like dealing with complicated designer dresses."

"Of course," replied the other, closing the distance between them, "What else did you try?"

Gulping down the rising dread, Naruto blinked innocently. "You know there's nothing else. So…"

"Nothing else, you say," echoed Sasuke, leaning forward. "You've been a bad liar this whole evening."

Nervous and slightly disoriented, Naruto pressed further back into the wall. "Come on Sasuke, I swear that's all I checked for."

Sasuke glanced appraisingly at his open drawer. And sharply he looked back into the shivering form pressing firmly against the wall. "You sure you want to lie to me again?"

The chills only got worse from there. Naruto felt his knees weaken and whatever pains he had before now augmented to a debilitating trauma. "I'm not lying to you! I saw a journal okay? Fuck’s sake. But I didn't open it!" he exclaimed under a shaky breath, "So don't put me on trial over it…I didn't read anything! Seriously," he choked out the last part, because he felt Sasuke's hands seize his shoulders.

"Relax."

Inhaling deeply, but still trembling, Naruto screwed his eyes shut.

"Get back into bed and go to sleep."

"Alright," he mumbled unwittingly, sinking into Sasuke's grip, "what about you….where are you gonna sleep?"

"The chair."

He frowned at the quick answer. "Let's share. Not a big deal…"

In silence, Sasuke led him back to bed; and what's more, his swelling pride already packed its bags and left town. Behind closed doors, he felt more at ease, more willing to accept help, especially from his best friend. He honestly began to question why he ever made a fuss. Truly he enjoyed Sasuke's help and attention, like a cozy warming radiator filling his cold world. His sick cold world of being transformed into a woman.

Naruto made sure to lay on one side of the bed, and patted the whole space left.

"Look, there's lots of room. I promise I don't snore. And I don't kick or toss around either…"

When Sasuke simply gazed down with incredulity, Naruto groaned in frustration.

"What? The size of this mattress can fit the four of me so why the big deal?"

"I'll sit in my chair, thanks," growled Sasuke, who moved his seat to the foot of the bed.

"Really, I don't get why you're so conservative," Naruto commented in between pants. "Is it because I'm a…woman? Is that why you're so hesitant?"

At the suggestion, Sasuke tightened up. "No."

"Then why are we oceans apart? I feel like you think I'm contagious with the way you're acting."

Sasuke furrowed his brow, turning aside and facing away. But Naruto caught that faint glimmer of foreign emotion passing in an otherwise barren expression. And he caught it before it could be veiled. What's Sasuke thinking? He felt his hair stand on end, sensing a lot of unsaid subtext festering underneath the quiet. Sensing some hidden piece of his friend's story. Like a whiff of something sweet but before he could have a taste, it's taken away.

Disconnected. He couldn't read his own best friend. And what's talking ever solved? They never needed to talk about it, they just knew. However this time, Naruto felt as lost as a map-less traveler in the desert.

Following suit, Naruto also turned to his side facing the opposite way.

"The medicine should be kicking in now. Do you feel somewhat better?" asked Sasuke, changing the subject.

"Yeah," he lied.

"Then let's get to sleep," was all the other said before reaching over and turning off the dim lamp on the nightstand.

When the lights went out, Naruto felt the chills take over his senses. His body overheated to fill in the void—the part the creature in the well took from him. The shivering of his nerves, his muscles, and the tingling of his skin—he swallowed and panted. Why was Sasuke distancing himself all of a sudden? Saying awful things earlier on, such as 'we’re cursed'? Naruto blinked back the burning heat of his eyes. Some kind of irritation obviously, but he didn't want anyone to actually think he was crying. It just hurt to keep them open. But when the chills disappeared, and a spreading fire burned his limbs, he couldn't think anymore. He only saw images—transitioning him into a dream…

He sunk into a hellish heat, deeper and deeper. Moment he closed his eyes, his world left him, or rather he left the present; and transported into the dreaming realm, thrust into the past.

No words could describe how beautiful this place was. Dreaming of his first real victory, his heart twisted in anticipation while he slowly made way to the arena set atop a hill. The air clean, with the scent of pine octaves higher. For all the dreams to be in, this moment of his life topped the rest. And what's more, Sasuke was with him; watching. Even though he never saw Sasuke, he felt his presence near.

"Na-ru-to. Naruto…"

Cheering. Clapping, like the start of an awesome show. An infinite sky and infinite potential, with the sun glaring down gloriously. Naruto felt himself float onto the stage, keeping his head high. Thousands of eyes drilled into him. 360 degrees surrounded by an audience, watching him.

"The final battle of the chuunin exam…you've been all waiting for!"

Naruto squared his jaw. Keenly he glared at his opponent on the opposite side of the platform.

"Naruto Uzumaki," announced the host, "versus Neji Hyuuga."

A small smirk passed in that snarky Neji's expression. To which Naruto furrowed his brow threateningly.

"Three rounds. The winner of each round must remain within bounds, and render the opponent down for more than five seconds…"

Clenching his fists, Naruto waited patiently for the signal to begin. He looked deeply into his opponent's emotionless eyes—seeking refuge in them. Oh how he'd knock the pride, haughty air, and arrogance out of Neji, and everyone will bear witness to it. This wasn't about the grand prize or the fame or the acknowledgment: but personal strength and determination.

"…after the gong, bow and begin the match."

Naruto remained steadfast. They bowed after the gong. And upon raising up, their eyes clashed once more.

"Begin!" declared the host, moving away from between them.

No assessment, no cautious posture, as Neji bolted forward. With a quick sword block, Naruto violently fended off an incoming fist. Neji continued testing him by launching an array of fists—all meant to distract him—however, he barely dodged the last strike as he catapulted backwards.

"Round one, Neji Hyuuga!" shouted the host.

The audience roared and gasped. While Naruto's eyes widened in horror…he stepped out of bounds! In the rush of his adrenaline, he lost it…

"Round two, begin!"

Neji smirked daringly, waiting in a left legged stance. Without any further invitation, Naruto rushed forth, sidestepping a jab aimed for his neck and dispatched an upper palm feint. His opponent dipped back in time to evade the attack. However, Naruto felt his femoral muscles twitch with need…and he instinctively sent a roundhouse kick to Neji's face as soon as an opportunity presented itself. The moment his leg made contact, ecstasy shot up Naruto's spine and his heart filled with ambitious warrior strength. He crushed his ankle into the groove of Neji's neck and sent his opponent flying to his side.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Round two, Naruto Uzumaki!"

As soon as Neji jumped up, a very dark and annoyed look crossed his immaculate features. Naruto returned the same annoyed look tenfold.

"Round three, begin!"

They circled each other cautiously. Naruto kept himself ready the whole time—so ready, his epinephrine levels peaked beyond this world—knees, elbows bent, and breathing rather rapid. Ready to mirror, dodge, counter his opponent's next attack, or capitalize on the next opening. Naruto couldn't help but stay on guard, especially perceiving that malicious glint in Neji's opalescent eyes.

Just what was Neji so smug about? He never remembered such a sneering, scornful look before…this dream… it was different. Something felt amiss. For everything perfectly mimicked the true events of that fateful day, except now…

Shifting into cat stance, Naruto's muscles tightened with anticipation; he could already see Neji about to launch, so he'd counter it!

As expected, in that moment, Neji cut up close in jet speeds and dispatched perfect sword hand strikes. Naruto felt time slow. This was just like that day. Foreseeing the strikes, he blocked each one, offending his opponent while still defending.

"You're weak…" he heard Neji grunt, as they neutralized each other's blows.

"Oh yeah?"

"A woman…"

Naruto froze. What?

And in that second, Neji delivered a crescent kick pummeling Naruto down like some doll. Rolling violently, he barely brought himself off the ground in less than five seconds. He haggardly panted drawing in air albeit the electrifying pain shooting up his temples; the sounds of his own breaths drowned the audience whooping in excitement as well as the host's.

"A woman won't defeat me," growled Neji with biting scorn, "Pathetic."

Not true, not true! He wasn't a woman! Naruto bared his teeth in a scowl, while melting into an hourglass stance. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hyuuga."

As if to answer, Neji whirled elegantly forward. With ease Naruto evaded the lunge punches even preventing them with painful inward middle blocks. But then Neji distracted him with a lower kick to the shin, so rapid and light, he had little time to react to the left hook rocketing to his chin! Naruto stumbled backwards ungracefully…disoriented…

Neji grabbed a fistful of blond hair, and in a tone full of contempt, hissed, "Look at this…are you a princess or a warrior?"

"S-shit…what—ugh…"

Unmercifully, Neji kept tugging at the hair before flinging Naruto to the ground…and almost out of bounds. He tried to unfold up, but a stomp kick slapped Naruto across the face—rendering him completely prostrate. He shivered in pain, already feeling the burning bruises forming under his eye. This wasn't how the fight went. This is nothing like it! Clenching his fists, he peeled himself off the ground trembling in terror.

Coldly sneering, Neji loomed over the fallen quivering figure.

Naruto winced at his body's reaction. Barely had he shifted up into a ready position when Neji went at him again. He reflexively nullified his opponent's sharp blows. As agile as a tiger, he returned a counter clockwise sword block—shattering Neji's perfect delivery. And penetrating his opponent's defenses, he pushed forward and gained leverage—swiftly darting a knee into Neji's unguarded kidneys.

"You can't defeat your destiny," said Neji, who in that moment caught Naruto's knee in a catcher's grip. "I was right. All you managed to do was delay the inevitable."

Everything bristled in his system. Desperate to be freed, Naruto wrenched his foot only to feel the stringent grip pull at him. He let out a gasp when Neji twisted his leg. From all around he heard the audience cry out when he flopped back to the floor face-forward. Control completely lost and with the wind knocked out of him, he only faintly heard the host scream a countdown of five seconds. One: the pain, like a debilitating shock of trauma. Two: the numbness of his own heart. Three: the ringing of his ears drowning all other sounds. Four: his scratched, lacerated, and eviscerated spirit from Neji's taunts. Five: it's over, it's over, and everything is over...he couldn't…

"Winner! Neji Hyuuga!"

Just. Like. That.

He felt his eyes burn. No. No.

"Naruto, Naruto wake up."

What's happened? Where…

And in the blink of an eye, he woke with a jolt. Sluggishly, he returned to his senses. The burning pain all over his body never faded, almost identical to what he felt in the dream. Though he experienced an instant relief that at least he could breathe without the smothering falseness of a dream world. Except, he felt hot liquid in his eyes. At once he tried to wipe the wetness out of his eyes, only to feel his arm numb and light. And…to feel a body pressing over him.

"Sasuke?" he gasped, petrified by shock.

Their eyes met. And he felt Sasuke's cool arm draped over his shoulder. A firm yet soft hold. Not only that but his nose was buried in Sasuke's shirt and he breathed in his friend's musky scent. To say he'd been rendered completely disoriented, wouldn't be sufficient: he was struck dumbfounded at their positions. He awoke to Sasuke leaning over the bedside, embracing him; and what's more, Sasuke seemed completely natural about it!

Squirming away, he looked up into Sasuke's discerning expression, the level of concern beyond belief. "Why are we…hugging…?"

"Moron," came the rough reply, "You kept calling me. Over and over again. I didn't know what else to do."

Oh god. Naruto closed his eyes in agonizing embarrassment. What the hell did he say in his sleep? If he could whip away right now he would! Naruto swallowed but with immense difficulty, like he'd been trying to swallow crumbles of dry wood or sand. At least the dim lighting went easy on his eyes, though he noticed Sasuke seemed to be dazed…as if woken from sleep.

Flushing into scarlet, Naruto mumbled, "I did? I had a nightmare…"

"What was it?" Sasuke asked lightly.

"Ah—hah," he wiggled farther away from his friend, "I lost to Neji Hyuuga."

Dark eyes narrowed in confidence. "You won. That day you defeated…"

"But in this dream I lost!" he cried out, but upon hearing the high-pitch shrill instead of his own, he grimaced. "My tryouts are soon! How the hell can I show my face to any dojo now? I don't think—"

"I see now…" said his friend, sinking back into his chair.

Naruto cringed. "What…?"

"It's only a body change," murmured Sasuke, exhaustion evident. "I know you'd never let that stop you."

Silence swept in like a breeze. It took many minutes for Naruto to digest the words. Laying now on his back, arms at his sides, and looking up at the ceiling, he considered his ideals. His principles. Of course he'd never let anything stand in the way of his dreams. It didn't matter that he'd been thrust into some freak alternate dimension, being a woman and all, such an obstacle is debilitating…but not absolute. No he couldn't envision a life without his dearest sport. He could envision being completely thwarted as a woman though, but at least he'd be doing what he loved. Proving to everyone what he's made of.

"You're right Sasuke. Maybe you can drive me to the gym tomorrow, ne?" he said at last.

But instead of a response, he heard snoring.

Damn it! Snoring? Naruto raised a hand to smite the other for falling asleep, but…

That expression…Sasuke's peaceful face, completely passed out and relaxed, stopped him in his tracks. And even lips were parted ever slightly. He'd forgot just how ridiculously soft Sasuke snored. A metronome that was hypnotizing. Mesmerized, Naruto watched Sasuke sit at the foot of the bed on that wooden chair with arms crossed and head tilting back as he descended further into slumber.

And thus, his fists dropped to his sides.

"I'll have to train hard," he mumbled to Sasuke's sleeping form, "Being in this form can't be that bad, right?"

Somehow, Naruto felt very unconvinced. His gut told him that life transformed itself to a challenge, transformed into a grueling slimy monster from the well and was trying to consume him. But that didn’t mean he was going to go down without a fight. He didn't know how nor what's in store. But at least he had Sasuke who would never change, nor treat him differently.

Bzzzz.  

Phone vibrating. Erratically on Sasuke's nightstand. Naruto propped up on an elbow and reached over for the mobile device buzzing like some trapped bee. His phone. The same one Sasuke salvaged from his place of exile. God Sasuke's the best pal anyone could ask for! Unlocking his home screen, Naruto read the following:

14 new voicemails, 25 missed calls

Raising a brow, Naruto pressed the speaker to his ear. He listened to the first and last voicemail. "Naruto, dude it's Kiba! Dude what the fuck! I woke up this morning to see your sister naked. Sleeping on your bed and then she-she-fuck man, where are you?! And you have a sister?" Naruto skimmed through and hit the last voicemail. "Sakura finally called me back. Dude where are you, I'm worried about you man. And it's true, shit. That girl's your cousin or something? How could you hide her from me?! Bro, hit me a text back no one knows where you are."

How the hell can he...ever go back home? When Naruto disappeared and Naruko took his place?

Naruto's fingers hovered over the keypad on his phone. He had to write Kiba some response, that'd allow him to come home. Even as a woman. With the right explanation, he could sleep in his own bed tomorrow without hassles. But what explanation? What if Naruto never came back?! Stay positive.

In flustered passion, he typed away a message: "Hey. Listen Kiba. Don't scare her away, alright? She's visiting from the States and has my permission to crash the crib." What about tonight, how can I explain it? "Right now we're all at Sasuke's, drunk and wasted and can't drive back. But tomorrow, she's swinging by and is using my room. Don't be a dick." Where will I be? "I might not be back for days. My cousin lost all her luggage and some airport down in LA has a claim on it. I'm going to go get it for her, while still enjoy a sweet trip."

He pressed send. And sighed painfully.

Chapter 4: Naruko

Notes:

Betas: Darkly Dreaming Allie and AlexConfused

Chapter Text

 

 

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She. She

That's what everyone's seeing. With their eyes, with their posture, even vocalizing it. Living in the city meant trudging through folk; walking and driving down these roads, man it's intense game. Not bumping into anyone, that is. Can't forget the millions of gazes you meet, each telling a story. Some overall phrase transmitted through the eyes like beams of light. But now, Naruto feels fried to the core—to the bone.

To hell with it. Hell to anyone catcalling. He hates it because two days ago, he didn't feel the sting of anyone's attention.

So when Naruto waits for the crosswalk to signal green, some man decides to strike a conversation.

"Miss. Do you need help?"

Naruto glances at him because yeah, truthfully, he needs help. But this guy can't do anything about it, so Naruto scoffs. “No.”

As if the 'no' shoots a bullet through the man, he stumbles slightly back. "Are you sure?" the man insisted.

Simply nodding, that's all Naruto's committing to.

"Listen lady – if you're lost, I'll help you."

And the man touches him. Grabs his arm and all. Naruto whips so fast, even his own vision's spinning. The term lady is a sharp knife reopening wounds. Not to mention, he told the guy no, and the fact this guy’s now transgressing his personal space pissed him off to no end.

"Awh, shit, woman! What the—" cries the man, as Naruto's dragging him forward by the lapels.

"I'm not a lady. Not a woman."

Suddenly the guy gets sarcastic. "Sure you ain't."

"I'm telling not asking. Do you understand the meaning of no? I told you no." Naruto burns in the face.

"Calm down, ma'am. Wasn't trying to get your number," the man wheedles, assumes that Naruto's fending off all the beaux with the 'I'm not a woman' excuse. "Just thought you looked helpless."

Helpless. Lady. Almost sounded like the Neji from his dream—taunting. He's not…he's not—oh he'll show helpless lady, if that's what he wants. With a fist of wrath, Naruto clocks the man across the jaw with a free hand. It didn't do anything.

The man just shoves himself off and rubs the affected area.

As if Naruto poked him harshly. "Bitch," he breathes. "You're right, you're no lady." Shakes his head, and crosses the street.

So dumbfounded. So aghast. Naruto feels his eyes go wide, staring at his hands.

The hands he spent years—blood-stained, sweat-stained—years training. They're supposed to be iron mittens, knuckles made of mammoth bones, black-belt nerves and chi, phalanges and tendons attuned to meditated perfection. And now, the best he's pulling off is a…bitch slap? The nightmare's creeping into reality. Everyone flitting by, thinks he's glaring into his palms like they've got gangrene, or something fatal.

Cars zooming all around, sky's overcast, and he's cold. Crossing the street in late August, and he's cold. Kind of like Naruto's some ghost possessing a girl's body because everyone's so damned blind. And walking up to his apartment, with the most dread he's ever had in his whole life because he's not sure. He's hearing Neji's sly voice say that he should have at least picked an American name such as Cassandra, Jessica, Katie, or Mary. Some name that didn't sound like his own, some name that didn't pretend or mimic the Naruto that everyone once knew.

 

 

Kiba's jumping corner to corner. He's lighting candles, some are scented and some are just for show. Nervous didn't begin to cover the stretch of foreign emotions overtaking him. He's got to make it up to the girl. House should be spotless, at least, right? Plus women are damned sensitive with their noses, he wanted to make sure everything went swell.

"Shit. This is way too much time I've spent in front of a mirror," Kiba growls to himself.

But every second he's seeing Naruko's perfect rack flash through his imagination—and Kiba fights down the tempting image, because that's Naruto's cousin. Naruto's family. Right now he needs to focus on making things right. Although he’s lying to himself if he could just pass up a beautiful woman like her. To at least try…

As if on cue, the keys are turning. The lock is twisting. She's here, really here.

So quickly, one last time, he fixes the collar of his plaid shirt, and goes to meet her. She looks pissed, but Kiba can't really see under her long splayed bangs. He notices right away she's carrying a duffel bag over her shoulder.

Quick to distract himself by her foul mood, Kiba's by her side, asking, "Let me help you with your stuff."

That's when she lifts her awestriking blue orbs. They're like laser beams of a wrathful Goddess. So he chokes out nervously, "Ah…had a rough night? I've got plenty remedies for those nasty hang overs. If ya need."

"You don't even know," she says.

"Trust me, I've seen some terrible—" Kiba wants to say 'shit', but he's got a charming audience. "Things," he finishes, weakly. Because Naruko's already turning away from him. She masterfully locks the doors, all three of them without any questions asked.

The sounds of the locks and the fact it's all Naruko's initiative, Kiba feels all heat rushing. In fact, he'd fantasized how she'd enter the crib, all shy and unsure. So for Naruko to do the complete opposite as she charges in, alpha female with no questions asked, Kiba releases nothing but a whuff of anxiety.

"Listen I uh…I want to apologize," Kiba starts out with a sheepish smile. "For uh, yesterday. We got off the wrong foot. Really didn't mean to make—" again 'shit' bubbled into his throat, "things more awkward."

"I don't care," was her response.

Damn it! Everyone knows what 'I don't care' means from a girl. Kiba's feeling his guts flip over. "So you don't want to forget about it and just start fresh?"

She's looking at him like he grew another head. "I said I didn't care, right? We're good."

"Oh. I just thought. Thought you didn't care about me or, or—never mind." He sees she's unraveling the straps of her duffel bag, and quickly he snatches it into his hands. "I'll help. Just tell me where to put it."

"Kiba…"

Was it her soft, musical voice saying his name, which sent shivers down his spine? Or that growl, warning him of her feisty fires? Kiba's own hoarse voice spills the air, "It's fine. So where do you want it?"

"Just chuck it out of the window, I'm ruined anyway," Naruko retorts.

Dumbfounded, it took several seconds for instinct to kick in. "No way. Tell me what's wrong."

"Tell you? How about I show you?"

The question paralyzed Kiba. "S-show me? Show me what?"

Lots of images flickered in his head. Was she's going to flash her rack at him again? Just the other day she had no problem bouncing around this room topless. Kiba swallowed thickly. Enraptured by her beauty like a blinding light, it's hard to look at her straight on, he's got to tilt his vision slightly off to the side.

Naruko closes the distance. She raises her right fist. "This."

Her dainty, rather tiny fist is blue and purple. Bruises. Kiba drops the bag in favor of holding the damaged hand.

"Who the—who did this?" he grates out, turning her hands gently to check for any more abuse. "Give me a name and I'll pay the asshole a visit."

She coughs. It's a cute bumble. Seemingly fine by his touch, Naruko responds flatly, "It was me. Thought I could handle it. Didn't think clocking someone's jaw would feel like a brick wall."

"You? You punched a girl?"

"What, are you crazy? I'd never hit a girl. Just some guy. Kept brown nosing, and I…I guess it was wrong time, wrong place, you know?"

"Oh I know," agrees Kiba, very content that she fended off potential predators. "I can teach you the proper way of how to throw a punch. So next time, you don't get so badly bruised."

Naruko yanks her hand away, as if burned. "I know how to fight," she growls, and it's getting hot in here. "I know how to kick some guy's ass. Obviously, I'm out of my game. Didn't sleep so well. Had a—had a long flight…I'm just stressed, is all."

She's pissed again because she swoops her duffel and storms into Naruto's bedroom. But Kiba's determined, and he chases after her without even aware how fast his feet pedal to keep up.

"I was going to do that," he calls out at her, stubbornly occupying the doorway. Afraid to step over the border. What if she wanted her space? The last thing he's going to do, is disrespect her personal space. She'll want a safe-haven, and Naruto's room…he's going to acknowledge it.

But then Naruko's slinging more demands. "The hell did you do with my room? It smells like the damned botanical gardens."

"You like?"

Kiba earns a beautifully blank stare, blue eyes blinking. Then she's lightly smiling, and trying to hide it too. "Dude it's kind of gay, don't you think?" she scoffs, unzipping her bag, "You back on pot or something? Because if you're tryin'ta hide the smell there's cheaper and better ways to do it."

"I…no I'm not," Kiba answers firmly, feeling his heart flutter. "Why, are you against it. Pot, I mean?"

"Come on man, we…I mean, come on. Of course not."

About to launch another question, Kiba stops short.

Naruko's bending over. She's dropped some clothes, and now scoops them up, reaching down low. In a pavlovian response he could not suppress, he fixates onto her bottom. How the denim jeans stretched taut, hugging perfect legs and rounded flesh mounds. Kiba sighs, feeling tightness in his chest. This was Naruto’s cousin. His friend trusted him.

In the next second, Naruko casts a sharp glance his way. "Dude what the hell?"

As if she shot an arrow his way, Kiba stumbles back. He thinks he got caught staring, and flushes deeply crimson. In fact his whole face burns, and it's so unpleasant he's about to turn around and leave and—

"Earth to Kiba. Where are my—I mean…Naruto's clothes? Drawers are empty," she finally straightens up, and gives him a full glare.

"Oh…that."

"Yeah. What the hell else?"

And he thought all his chances were gone. Kiba smiles in triumph much to Naruko's confusion. "Packed all of Naruto's clothes into a garbage bag. Don't worry about it."

"Why the hell did you do that? Did you even ask me—I mean Naruto?"

"Standing orders was to get you settled and make you comfortable. Having a closet and dresser to yourself sounded like a good plan."

"Okay. Where's the garbage bag?"

Now, Kiba's confused. Why would she even be bothered with Naruto's clothes. "In a storage space downtown."

"You…you sent all of it in…"

"I rent a storage room every month. Naruto knows about it, so he'll be cool. When he gets back, I'll withdraw—"

She's shaking her pretty head furiously, before angrily stuffing the drawers with dresses, skirts, and tops. She's muttering curses, puffing out familiar phrases. She's pouting, with the upper trembling in unabashed vexation. She's so similar to Naruto, Kiba almost goes crazy with bewilderment. They must be genetically close, to share these predispositions. He holds back a laugh but not before being pinned with a stunning comment.

"I think Naruto didn't expect you to go out of your way," she remarks stiffly before taking off into the kitchen.

Of course Naruto didn't expect it because if Naruto expected anything, he'd know how much Kiba wants to bang her. But Naruto's too trusting, and naïve.

"I'm not going out of my way," he denies but no one's nearby to hear it.

When he enters the kitchen, he finds Naruko rummaging through the pantries like she owns the place. He has to admit, it's a little unsettling, but then seeing her brows slightly scrunch up, and the intensity behind her eyes—Kiba finds himself entranced, something about Naruko. She felt all too familiar.  She's bursting with confidence, but not the arrogant kind, the kind that says, 'I own this meat-suit so deal with it'.

Naruko plucks out an instant noodles box. Naruto's favorite flavor, too. She's not really going to follow Naruto's footsteps, is she? But then, suddenly an idea strikes Kiba who unconsciously tightens his fists, restraining his enthusiasm. An epiphany. This. Is. Perfect. She's hungry. If she's anything like Naruto, which he'd been constantly reminded of, then he's already got a map to her heart. If she's like Naruto, then this will be an easy lay for him, because he knew everything Naruto liked, and the formula's quite simple!

"Wait, Naruko."

Fluidly, she comes to a pause. "Yeah?"

"It's practically your first day here, and I feel like we should go out to eat," Kiba explains smoothly.

A weird lop-sided grin overtakes her features. "Go out to eat, huh? Does sound special."

"I know some good places. Good, good places."

"Heh," Naruko's rolling her gaze around in thought. "Why not?"

Kiba steps closer, but keeps a safe distance. "It'll be on me, of course."

Her eyes go wide like she's seeing a ghost. "Let's do it," she whips out eagerly. Her arms waving imaginary pompoms, and he bets she'd make the hottest cheerleader ever. "Holy hell, Kiba sounds really good."

When Naruko sends him a smile, all kinds of bodily confusions sweep over him. A real genuine one. All the school girls he's ever dated mastered the fake, formal smiles. And Naruko's just raw light, beautiful and open.

But then Naruko cuts in with a, "But I gotta catch the new episode of Supernatural Hunters. We should go after. Only be a half an hour."

That's Naruto's favorite series. About two brothers fighting evil and monsters, and well it's pretty cool show, he's watched it with Naruto several times.

"You coming?"

"Actually, I need to use the bathroom."

Might as well clear his bowels so he can stuff himself over dinner.

"Oh cool, have a good one."

Kiba stops breathing. "What?" And then he remembers, it's what Naruto always says right before he goes to take a shit. Naruko must have picked up on that too. "Yeah. Yeah I will," he mutters.

This is crazy. As soon as he plops down the toilet, he breathes.

A phone goes off in the living room. Naruko's voice reaches his ear. "Hello? Yo Sasuke. Finally you call me back, bastard."

Kiba freezes. From his isolated experience in the bathroom, he could hear her through the thin walls. Not good. Hearing Sasuke's name, it's never good. It wasn't until Kiba grew to be Naruto's friend that Sasuke began some cold war with him. Ever since Kiba became Naruto's roommate for instance, Sasuke took the cold war to nuclear levels: the bastard's stole his girlfriends and humiliated him at school whenever possible. He didn't help matters though, he'd retaliate the bullshit right back and Sasuke was one vengeful asshole. 

"Yeah, you left," she's biting out, "Yeah I know you got work. But I thought you’d stick around because of last night. Thought we were gonna make plans…"

As soon as Kiba rushes into the living room, Naruko glances at him appraisingly. She lifts her brows, questioning silently, 'you took a good shit'? Exactly like how his roommate would. It's too perfectly copied, and Kiba almost feels like he's with Naruto. Almost.

Especially as her high pitched, cute voice cuts in sharply, chiming into the microphone of her cellular, "Well I'm back at the crib with Kiba, so…the hell are you saying? Sasuke…no…no…I'm not coming back, no. I'm staying here."

Suddenly, Kiba feels his heart pound. Staring helplessly at Naruko's figure, as she's all sprawled on the couch—an impeccable portrait of comfortable and sweetly relaxed, with her long legs stretched out without care. Thick thighs enough to devour, lining into thin calves. A perfect curvature. And then there's her bare feet resting on the edge of the couch, twitching sporadically in obvious anxiety. Small feet, toes bare and innocent. There's nothing harsh about them, they're really dainty and soft looking. And it's fucking weird because Kiba doesn't have a foot fetish but he'll give her hour long foot massages just because every part of her is worth it.

As Naruko argues with the phone—with Sasuke—she tenses slightly. "I get that. I get you needed to get back to work, and that it’s your last day before school starts. The hell do you take me for? Exactly, yes. Normal, that's what I want too. So here I am where I should be, and anyway, it's good 'cause Kiba and I are going out to eat."

That's when her jaw squares, and a dark cloud hovers over her brows. "Why wouldn't I say yes? Dude it's free food. Obviously if he offered." A long pause. "Sasuke…come on man, you got a problem with Kiba or something?"

That's it. Kiba presses forward, and stretches an arm out. "Naruko, give me the phone. Now."

She sits comfortably, lazily, looking at him with a daring expression.

So Kiba just snatches it out of her hands, and takes the phone. Words burn off his lips automatically, like God struck him with the right senses. "Yo, Sasuke."

Sasuke's voice shuts to an abrupt halt. "You."

"Yeah, me," he drawls out mockingly, and Naruko shoots him a glare. "What's up. Listen man, Naruko and I are already on the way to dinner, so it's a little late for complaints."

There's a long pause before Sasuke demands, "Where?"

"Corner of Kinokuyu and West Ninth. But you need reservations, and it's a couples only establishment."

The line clicks. Sasuke hung up. And Kiba grins, feeling his lips spread like a permanent branded mark. He's smiling at Naruko. Did Sasuke really think he was going to get away with stealing another girlfriend from him?

"Missed the best parts of the episode," she complains, almost moans.

Supernatural Hunters: the episode's done, and credits are rolling.

Kiba manages to make room to sit by Naruko's cute little feet. Wedges in between her legs, without much hassle. He wants to tell her how much he appreciates her comfortable nature, her hospitality. Then he reconsiders, and instead hands her back the cellphone. Better to look cool and sound mysterious, not reveal every thought or word he's got to say.

When he settles between her ankles, Kiba finally musters enough courage to ask, "So. Sasuke. You two…you two have something—something going on?"

"Just best friends, you know that."

Since when is any guy best friends with drop dead gorgeous blondes. "Yeah? I uh, wonder if Sasuke feels the same."

Naruko fumbles with the remote before shooting him a calculative look.

The intensity of her eyes sends Kiba almost stammering out, "So, you dressed? Because I'm ready."

"Course I'm dressed, don't you see that."

He's grateful that Naruko's not over-thinking girlish fantasies. Outfits, shoes, accessories, or make-up especially, not seeming to care for any of it. She's down to earth. Probably senses her outrageous beauty and realizes even if she's wearing rags, she'll be the most gorgeous woman around. Her skin's practically radiating with divine essence, and Kiba can't get enough of seeing it—he wants to touch her soft skin, caress her.

"Let's go," he urges, but he can't seem to get the energy to get up. He doesn't want to break free from contact, even if it's just her feet touching him.

Naruko groans, throwing her head back. "Yeah. Fine. I'll just look up the episode online later." After her whines, she snaps up, shifting into tripod position. "You driving, or me?"

"Me." It's almost offensive to suggest otherwise.

"Ya sure?"

“I'm sure. Let's go."

So they are actually, really walking together out of the apartment. They turn off all the lights behind them. Naruko isn't even double-taking, but god-to-honest casually walking with him. He's following after her enthusiastic speed however. Breaking out into the streets of the city, Kiba's right behind her. It's not her ass he's staring at, but her aura, her pull. Like they've known each other for years, and this date's a natural part of their lives. They're meant for each other.

Somehow, she recognizes his car before he can and waits beside it. Must have been the cocky, sudden know-it-all expression which set him off.

"Let's walk there," Kiba suggests, spreading his arms wide open.

As they stroll down several blocks, Kiba feels his hand gravitate to hers. Their hands swing in opposite yet parallel motions, almost touching. Grazing. Next thing he knows, he catches her hand in the moment, and holds it gently in his. The moment…it's unreal, almost can't believe it! He's holding her hand. Not the bruised one, but the good one. Chewing on cotton candy couldn't compare to the sweetness of this moment, except, except well—

Naruko whips her hand away from him. "What are you doing?" she asks. As if she's from another country and holding hands is against her religion.

"Nothing. Forget it."

It's not nothing. Naruko glows with suppressed concern. "Are you okay, man? I mean is there something you got to tell me?"

He should have kept the small talk going. Ask questions about her and Naruto, because that's safe. Safe topics, in which either party doesn't get hurt or offended. But instead Kiba's guts boil with this never ending spiral of curiosity. The smidgen of jealousy left unattended becomes a giant in the area.

"Last night, what happened?" he prods, and it feels awkward, even scary like holding a scalpel. Because he's burning to ask, what happened between you and Sasuke. But stops short.

She looks at him inquisitively, under her flaxen bangs. "Slept and ate. The usual nothing special."

They cross several blocks, quietly. But Kiba's mind shouts, flips, and cries. It's not until they get to the Café, waiting to be seated that he bursts with the dangerous questions.

"And you stayed with Sasuke the whole time." Is she going to deny or affirm?

Naruko shrugs. "Bastard locked me in his room the whole night, so…"

"What?" Lightning fury. Kiba bares his teeth, reels her close. "Where the hell was Naruto?"

Deep sorrow pierces her expression like a puncture wound; exactly what he feared. She furrows her brows and frowns. "Naruto was already gone," she says.

And now he's feeling a panic, an anger welling in his chest. Her confession and her piercing sadness—the combination implies Sasuke tried something. Sasuke fooled around, got his fill of her. The same trusted Sasuke who takes advantage of her the moment Naruto's gone. Scarcely, Kiba takes his seat across from Naruko at their table, because he almost swore he'd burn the chair, especially how he's sprouting horns and lava plumes.

The waitress hands him and her a menu, but his fists are shaking.

"Made it for the lunch special, nice," Naruko remarks. Frown's already turned upside down into a bright smile, almost enough to soothe.

Did Naruko fall for Sasuke's cold exterior, like the rest of them?

"Yo, have you tried this—looks good, but I don't know—"

She's pointing to something, and all he can really look at are her bruised knuckles. What if Sasuke's the reason? Then she gave him what's coming. "Yeah it's good," he dismisses, finally returning to the current reality.

"Alright. I'm good to order then."

He hopes Naruko didn't consent to anything. He doesn't want to share her, not with anyone. Not with Sasuke. And he's not letting Sasuke's irresistible, aloof, mysterious air contaminate Naruko's good soul. Look at the damage Sasuke's ill "bad-boy" charms has done to Sakura—he knows because Kiba's tried it with Sakura. Tried and failed because of how obsessed she is with Sasuke, even after all these years like Sasuke implanted a chip in her brain. The scary part is, there are others not just Sakura. 

When the waitress comes round, she takes their menus and orders, before spinning away into the kitchen.

"Got a sour face on," Naruko teases.

Kiba forces a small smile. "Sorry."

"Just spit it out, dude. What's eating you?"

"It's…" damn it, this is not safe conversation. Getting into her pants isn't top priority anymore, but knowing the truth is. He wants to know. "Just you told me how Sasuke locked you into his room. And well, uh, I want to know if you guys…if he tried anything. You know."

Naruko's brows shoot to her hairline. "What? No. Hell, no, come on man. Sasuke and I are friends—"

"Yeah you said that. I just wanted to make sure."

"—and I don't even think I swing that way. Never thought about a guy…like that. Not that I'm against people who do or anything, but personally never myself, okay I'll shut up now."

At the words, Kiba loses control. The glass he's holding suddenly slips through his hands. Cold icy water spills everywhere, and pools on the table, even dripping onto his lap. His chest tightens, while his jaw loosens, mouth hanging agape.

"You're a lesbian?" That came out so wrong.

That's when Naruko, looking as shocked as he, blinks. "I uh…like girls. I—shit, I guess that does make me a lesbian."

Lesbian. It barely registers in his mind. Just that he's not letting Sasuke in this race.

"Something's wrong with you," mutters Naruko, wiping the table down. "All spacey and shit. Like I'm talking to a fun house mirror."

"S-sorry."

She stares at him pensively, before murmuring, "Geez, you're really bad. I already lost count on the sappy apologies. It's like I'm with a different Kiba."

"Listen Naruko," Kiba responds, flattening his palms on his side of the table. "I need you to promise me something."

"And what's that?"

That's when Kiba boldly reaches for her hand, clasping it. "Watch your back. Sasuke, he's just—he's just bad news, okay?"

Naruko snorts, "Thought you two made peace." Then she sees how serious his tone is. "Okay…so how exactly is Sasuke bad news?"

After a brief pause, Kiba opens his mouth to answer. However, someone else beats him to it.

"Go on, mutt. Enlighten us."

Shit, shit, shit. It's Sasuke. Looming up from behind, Sasuke glides over to Naruko's side. Kiba meets the stone cold slabs of his narrowed eyes—and in that second, they exchange their thoughts like warring countries firing missiles at one another. Even though Sasuke masterfully stationed by her, he doesn't break the daring eye-contest. Whoever looks away first, is the beta male in this. Whoever holds the gaze longest, is the alpha dog, and Kiba's no beta male.

Crazy, how just as thought of that, Sasuke momentarily breaks their gaze, and glances down. Sees Kiba's hand wrapped over Naruko's. That's when the icy shroud sharpens into deadly arrows, as Sasuke's unhappy expression flattens into barren arrest.

"Uchiha," he grinds out the name like its bitter dirt.

Oblivious to the tension, Naruko whips her hand away from Kiba. Instead, she claws at the hems of Sasuke's fancy shirt like a beautiful but petulant kid. "Come on. Sasuke. Hurry and order before you miss the special." She doesn't like being ignored. "Hey. Sit down, would you?"

"I'm not ordering anything," Sasuke quips, before he gets yanked down, and drops beside Naruko on the booth.

"You're not going to eat?"

"No. I need to talk with you. Outside."

They're sitting side by side, Naruko's blonde fluffy head just coming up to Sasuke's shoulder. And Kiba thinks, if only he had sat there, then Sasuke could never have gained access. Of course he never imagined Uchiha'd show up like the terminator, straight down to business. The mission is clear. It's so damn clear. Just by how close Uchiha gets with her. Just by the way Sasuke sharply cross examines him—he feels penetrated deeply—as if Kiba is some poor sap sitting down for an interview, as if he's got no right to be with her here.

But tension becomes so viscous, especially when Naruko dismisses Sasuke. "I'm starving. Food's about to come out and—man, can't you just say it here?"

The stoic, icy expression instantly melts into a piercing scowl. Briefly, Sasuke glances his way, and Kiba squares his jaw at the sudden eye contact. He's not letting Sasuke dominate this date. Alpha dog status belongs to him, and he's fighting down the urge to bite the guy's head off. He narrows his own eyes as a warning signal, similar to how rattle snakes quiver their tails before an attack. And if Sasuke doesn't get the message, he's going to fire off away, all defenses. Because Sasuke might have his way acting cold with women, manipulating clients, and subjugating strangers with charm—but Kiba, like Naruto, can blunt all of that with ardor and ferocity.

"Yeah." Kiba leans forward, grinning. "Say it here."

Sasuke refuses to look at him. Opts, rather, to lean closer to her, whispering into her ear. The gesture infuriates Kiba, who's sitting on edge, feeling on edge. Ready to lash out.

"But…can you maybe…maybe, just wait? Okay? Ten minutes," she says, fixing a pout designed to win any negotiation.

"Don't be an idiot."

He knew Sasuke emotionally picks on girls. He couldn’t count the times he found girls crying in their middle school days. All because Sasuke recklessly slung rejections, and even how he’d wear a different girl every week on his sleeve, only to throw them aside like a worn out pair of shoes.

Kiba intervenes, "Seriously Uchiha? I swear if you start that with Naruko…I won't sit and watch. You hear?"

A flicker of shock overtakes Sasuke like a wave. "I won't sit and watch either," comes the smooth reply.

And next thing he's seeing, is just fucking unbelievable. Sasuke gets up masterfully grabbing ahold of Naruko's petite shoulder and manhandles her up and out of the restaurant. They leave so fast, and with such shrouded passion—everyone dining thinks it's some lovely romantic heat. Even Kiba's struck stupefied at the burst of energy. However, after the initial shock, he's storming after the most captivating couple totally enraged at how Uchiha could pull a maneuver such as that.

On his way out and after dropping forty bucks on the table, he sees Sasuke dragging Naruko down the street—making good distance. He wants to yell out or call Naruko's name, but it's too overboard. So Kiba sprints after them. And he's about to catch up until Sasuke sharply rounds the next corner, shoving her into a tucked away, discreet alley.

At once they disappear out of sight, and Kiba's about to follow and dive into that alley. But he stops short. He hears them exchange heated verbatim, and he freezes.

"Damn it Sasuke, what the fuck!"

"Exactly. I said stay at my house. Supposed to be getting rest. You…it's always the opposite with you."

"I got enough rest."

"So you go to Kiba? After what's happened? Next time think about coming to me first."

Hearing this, Kiba feels his knuckles whiten with blazing tension. The implications are endless…but ultimately, Sasuke is one controlling asshole.

Naruko's voice is strained. "You're really mad over this?"

"Mad." A word that sounded foreign on Sasuke's tongue. "No."

"Because man, I mean, you just leave for work without a word. So what am I supposed to do? Sit in your room, wait for you, get all fucking depressed and shit? You don't even have good cable! How was I going to watch my show?"

When Sasuke's silent, Naruko laments, "Okay, so. Well thanks for ruining my dinner I guess. I mean, since you impulsively decided you wanted to talk."

That's when Sasuke's cool and level tone counters. He simply drawls, "You really don't see it."

"What? See what?"

"I'm wasting my time…"

"Sasuke! What the hell am I not seeing?"

There's shuffling noises. Sounds of clothes being flapped around. Kiba assumes the worst: that Sasuke pinned her down. Adrenaline coursing in his veins, his surroundings blur into tunnel vision. As soon as Kiba darts into the alley, he sees the complete opposite. He sees Naruko fisting a tight grip over Sasuke's collar.

Both of them turn their heads Kiba's way.

"Kiba—" Naruko stammers out, with a guilty tone promising some explanation.

"Lost your way, mutt?" humors Sasuke, expression steeling into icy dismissiveness. "Better run back to the kennel, before animal control puts you down for derangement."

"You—you seriously better watch it. Unless…unless you want to spend a night together in the slammers, because I don't give a fuck! "

"Very frightening, but I've already got my rabies shot."

His nails dig into his palms, drawing blood. "How fucking low are you. Naruto's not here…so you just—what the hell, man?"

Sasuke raises a brow. "And you're a mutt in heat. So I don't need to ask the reason for your courting behaviors."

The bomb's dropped. He’ll admit the bastard wields words like a katana, implants and slashes like a brain-ninja. Kiba’s mouth collapses into a feral snarl. Not just in middle-school, but every year in high-school, Sasuke managed to humiliate him. Ever since he got close with Naruto, Sasuke has been one fucking cold bastard to him. What did Naruto see in Sasuke? What did Naruko see in him?

“Naruto's not here, but I am, and I won't stand for this shit."

Sasuke's dark gaze clouds over with confusion. "What are you talking about?" he asks lowly.

"I'm talking about your games, man," Kiba snaps like a band that's been stretched too far, "She's not buying your asshole-jerk personality, so you're actually becoming physically fucking abusive. Like purposefully grabbing her injured hand, so you can scare her into place."

As if shocked by a jolt, Sasuke releases her instantly. His clouded dark eyes flicker over Naruko's mottled, purple fist. At the sight, his lips thin into an unhappy frown—and demands an explanation from Naruko.

Instead, Naruko just stands there. Arms dangling weakly at her sides, and her hair's sticking to her face from sweaty anxiety. "Kiba man, I told you this was from a fight I got into earlier this morning," she explains.

As if torn in some dilemma, she swallows nervously when he and Sasuke drill demanding looks.

"Look, Kiba. Not sure how you got to that weird conclusion, but Sasuke's just looking out for me. And Sasuke uh," she slowly steps away, "you should probably go. Call after work, or something…I mean if there's any news."

Bells ring. Petals of triumph flutters around. Light somehow intensifies, shining down onto this alley. Kiba's breath hitches, her voice reverberating the words like a shotgun at the start of the race. Sasuke should go. He loves—loves—Naruko now for putting her foot down and standing up to the prick. In fact, Kiba smirks especially when Sasuke closes his eyes briefly in frustration, noticinh how tense Sasuke's neck stiffened. Lean muscles twitching like chords disturbed and vibrating.

"I give you two days," says Sasuke, frustration evident in its finest, miniscule form, as his eyes darken. "Two days before you're calling me for help. Good luck, moron."

Naruko energizes into surprise, breathing quickly. "But—but what did I do? I was just saying you should get back to work…I mean, hell." She pats her forehead like the confusion is giving her a headache. Until, that is, Uchiha brushes past her and walks into the street. Naruko pads after him, calling out, "Sasuke what—wait, where—okay, fine you bastard! Don't have lunch with me—thanks for ruining my day!"

City folk bustling all around sent ill looks her way. They probably think she's yelling after her broken up lover, who abandoned her; and if they knew Sasuke's reputation with women, they'd know that was exactly the case. However, Naruko didn't seem to notice or care. Instead, she's panting and cussing under her breath. Of course, Kiba glides over to her side and inspects her profile closely. When she's riled up, he feels déjà vu slam into him.

Where did he see this passion before?

"Hey, hey. Come on," Kiba prompts gently, bending his head down slightly to catch her gaze. "This is one of Sasuke's games. He obviously wants you to chase after him."

"Doesn't make sense," she pretty much sighs.

"Don't try to make sense out of it. What's important is you don't call him back, you hear?"

At that, she snaps up. "That's just ridiculous." Sadness dawns over her like a thick veil. Deep, deep sadness that couldn't possibly relate to this trivial moment in time. "As usual Sasuke gives me no credit. You saw that right? Two days, really. You know I can go longer than that. In fact, I don't need his damned help or his damned attitude."

Kiba bites his cheek, hard. Sasuke already had this woman wrapped around his finger like the others.

"You…you and Sasuke. You two know each other for more than a night, is that it?"

"Yeah. Of course," she scoffs in a matter-of-fact tone, "Apparently he's the reason I'm like this. The reason you're seeing me right now."

Lost. Utterly lost at what she means by. He guesses with dread, "You flew out here for this prick? Naruko…are you a lesbian because of him?”

He’s heard of stories where a woman’s heart was so broken by a man, she turned away from the entire gender. He’s always heard of those types. But this is the first time he’s met one.

“Yeah, you could say that,” she confirms.

Groaning, Kiba plasters his face into clammy hands. This is bad. How low did Sasuke stoop this time? To screw around with Naruto’s own cousin.

"But hey, two days. That’s plenty of time. Got his little diary with me, with all his confessions in it," she murmurs with glee. "That should cheer me up while I find a way to get back."

Diary? Sasuke has a diary? He asks her, but Naruko spaces out. She really spaces out, as if falling into a dream with her eyes open. They walk back to the apartment, as she's stuck in some trance. Maybe a little too quiet because he feels unnerved by her sudden placated air, since she's so damned neutral. She's also swaying slightly like the part of her brain responsible for balance is on hiatus. Then he thinks, he's probably going to have to cook because they never ended up finishing their dinner.

Tonight, he'll give her his signature massage and help her get over Sasuke. He’s helped other girls recover from the heart-break, but this is probably a severe case.

"Dude, did you check the mail recently? My class schedule's supposed to come in." Naruko unhappily shuffles through the letters in their mailbox. "Damn it. It's not in here. Now I gotta actually get on the internet and all."

Naruko isn't even looking at him, but at envelopes. Then suddenly he realizes what she's said. "What? Are you talking about Naruto's class schedule? Haven't seen it, no."

He follows her up the stairs and gears back into his thoughts.

Chapter 5: Engaged

Notes:

Betas: Darkly Dreaming Allie, AlexConfused

Chapter Text

   

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"Naruko, open up," he pleads, because any more of the silent treatment and he'll burst.

But she's locked herself into Naruto's room. Without a peep or word, she's withdrawn into the alcove, and he knocks again.

"Listen Naruko, I just want to—" he's lying through his teeth, and desperate, "do you want water? Something to eat?"

For over twenty hours—or was it two, he couldn't tell— she's cooped herself up in the room. And she'd just keep telling him to go away. At first, he shrugged off her callous rejections as perfectly normal, but now he's persistent to see her. To feel her, know she's alive and breathing—in a word, he misses her radiance.

Ever since the Sasuke debacle…

Worst of all, no matter what he offers: to light candles for her, cook breakfast, go shopping for anything she might need…there's just silence on the other end. Unnerving, gooseflesh rendering silence.

Kiba inhales a frustrated whuff of breath before offering his heart through the wretched door.

"Naruko," crushing so hardhe confesses, "Listen, you listening? It's beautiful out. We should go exploring, or something. Maybe to the park or the skating rink. Or we could go to the planetarium, and then maybe go out to eat—"

"Ah!"

The world shivers. The world fades to static.

What the hell—what in Heaven's name—was that sound?

Heartbeat thickens like drums in his throat, as he scarcely gets out, "Are you okay?"

Pressing his ear flat against the door, he hears no more. Was like he imagined the yelp of pain. Should he burst through the door? Just when he thought he hallucinated the sound, he hears it again.

"Damn, oh," her muffled cry resonates through the wood of the barrier.

White noise of a shower running reaches his ears, and he leans forward, hearing her beautiful voice.

Did she fall in the shower? Panicking, Kiba wrenches the knob violently. Locked out. He reaches for the key sitting over the mantle, and with jitters coursing through him, hardly is he able to open the door without stumbling in like a fool. As if electrocuted he hobbles over to the bathroom, with its entrance parted open.

He cautiously enters, like he's afraid a ghost will jump him. However, only steam greets him in wafts, mingling with the scent of a rather—masculine body wash, in fact the same AX sports wash he uses.

At once he sees her silhouette behind the shower curtains. Her curves, her profile. And standing behind the cream veil, is a shadow of elegance. Beauty. The lines of her cleavage, and how perfectly it slopes to a thin midriff, then widening into her hips. The whole portrait was art, and the steam, the scent, all of it art.

He forgets why he barged in the first place.

Except he sees the ethereal shadow of a goddess move. All's well, it seems. But to be sure…

He chokes out, embarrassed to the point of rubbing his neck raw, "Hey, Naruko, are you okay?"

That's when a horrific scream, a goosebump wrenching scream tears from behind the curtain.

"What the hell, Kiba," her head pops out from the curtain, and he's never seen her so angry, "What are you doing in my room?"

"I just—" oh hell what has he done?

"Can I get some privacy for crying out loud?" snaps Naruko, her hair dripping, and her whole expression sopping wet. You could hear her all sore.

Flushing, he steps back. "Just heard some sounds. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

Her mouth hangs, until she gathers her bearings. "You heard nothing," she sputters out.

"But—I mean, okay. Listen, I really am sorry. For you know, walking in on you."

There's a very tense long moment of silence. Only the soft noise of a torrenting shower and warm steam sweeps between them.

While the rest of her's cloaked behind the polka dotted shower curtain, her flushed expression is fully exposed to him. He soaks in her expressive vulnerability like a sky of constellations, how each quiver her brow, and the dripping trails of water amplifies her tension. Her stretched neck, inviting, glistening, and elegant like a swan. All of her quiet beauty contrasts the fury of her scowl.

But she keeps a discerning stare fixed upon him, as if considering him. An accusatory stare, passing a final judgment: that he's a pervert. And that he's obsessed with her. He's getting demoted, and he knows it, because why else does he feel shame beat down on him like knives?

Finally she quirks an unhappy brow, and says, "You can go now."

"Naruko," he murmurs, to which she grimaces almost in pain, "are you really okay?"

"Kiba."

He holds his breath.

"I'm. Showering."

Still holds his breath. There's more. There's got to be more.

"Will you please just get out?"

Like glass, he feels his own anticipation shatter. "I was just worried," he mutters.

She squeezes a fistful of that curtain. "Are you being completely serious right now?"

He could see her mood shuttling into piss faster than he could apologize again. So he turns to leave. And he hears her sigh in relief.


"Naruko, are you hungry? I brought you a slice of pie."

Two days? He couldn't even last one. Still, Naruto keeps his back against the bedroom door. Feels the door rumble with each of Kiba's knocks. And he's actually afraid that Kiba might use the key again.

"Naruko, you haven't eaten—" says the persuasive voice of his roommate, "It's from a French bakery. You're going to love it."

Sasuke would laugh, rub in salt in the humiliating wound. Already, Naruto sees the universal "I told you so" taunting expression rippling through the haze of embarrassment.

"I'm going to leave it next to the door," says Kiba.

Finally, Naruto sighs in relief, just when he thought he'd have to—

"Come out and say hi to Akamaru, just brought her back from my sister's. Don't you want to…"

"Leave me alone," snaps Naruto, and mentally it's a roar. A lion's roar, threatening for dominance. But physically, he hears a blood-curling wail of a teenaged girl.

Immediately, Kiba cajoles, "Okay, okay fine."

Naruto clenches up, whispering. "Thank you."

"Hey what about—"

Feels his heart ram against the ribs. Because Sasuke's words quickly bubbled to the surface. Sasuke's words ring like sirens. Ever since the moment he caught the lustful look in his roommate's eyes…the moment…he's felt repulsion. Mechanical repulsion. Gravitational no-no, as the very winds between him and his roommate scar and push apart.

That is, after Kiba had sent such a pointed, almost pornographic gaze his way, their dynamic's collapsed. To see your favorite skyscraper, crumble to ruins, it was surreal—hauntingly painful. As their dynamic's now a pile of detritus.

And worst of all, Sasuke saw this—this flirtatious smothering—before he could.

"Do you really want me to leave?" asks Kiba, sounding so heart broken, so in pain, you'd think Naruto threw a grenade at the sap.

That's just it. He screws up in a wince, can't help it. The truth is, Kiba leaving for an hour won't change anything.

"No it's okay," Naruto manages, although with each word, a brick's unloading off the chest, "I'm leaving."

Not just bricks of burden unloading, but the trampling elephant too. Unreal happiness shoots in his veins. Free. He's going to soar out of this prison.

"What?"

That's when Naruto opens the door. Grinning ear to ear, confidence newfound and growing. Even as he faces the friend he's lost over this woman's body.

"I'm leaving, Kiba."

Looks like when you're a woman, people don't take no as answer. No's not as serious.

"Don't be irrational," Kiba whips out, "You're not thinking straight!"

In fact, Naruto raises the bag he's packed for emphasis. "I am. And come on, don't tell me I'm irrational. Look at you, for hell's sake. You haven't given me peace since I've—" he snorts back the truth, and instead laughs, "listen, there's something I gotta tell you. Something I oughta have mentioned earlier."

At this point Kiba's sweating, there's beads of anxiety trickling down the temples and under a ruffled brow.

"What is it?" he cries out.

"The truth is Kiba…"

As if bearing the pain of a thousand whiplashes, Kiba winces in anticipation.

"The truth is what?"

"Truth is—truth is, I—Naruto is—" the truth is, he doesn't have a clue, that's what. "Naruto's not coming back. Not soon, at least."

You should have seen Kiba right then. Like you just told the man he's got children in another country or something, or you told the sap the sky's falling—just something completely unbelievable and extreme.

"What?"

And Naruto scratches his head, nervously. For all of a sudden, this is starting to feel like a break-up.

"This is the last month of the lease. And Naruto's not coming back, there's just no point in sticking around—"

"You stay here, got it? Let me talk to Naruto first."

Just when you weren't hot for a conversation, they're all hot.

"Kiba just listen will ya—"

"What do you mean he's not coming back?" Kiba's even rubbing his face from sudden anxiety, "Is Naruto alright? I need to talk to him."

Being vague's his only option now. "He's fine ya hear? Even though he just got fired from work and—a lot of shit happened, okay?" shit, that's a hot one, "a lot of god damned shit happened and Naruto—and me—are just gonna hitch it with our Godfather."

"You don't mean Jiraiya."

Now, Naruto sinks back in stupor at the sudden serious tone. "Old Jiraiya's reliable and he's all we got right now. Naruto and me, that's all who we got right now, and he's not too bad. I mean he does have an odd smell at home—"

"Condoms, lube and sex, that's what his house smells like."

"What the hell's the matter with you?"

Kiba starts pacing around in complete panic. "Listen, I've been over there before. He has whores there all the time, and Naruto said you could go? Do you even know what you're getting into?"

"So what, dude?" counters Naruto, raising both brows, "His business is his business, I'm just looking for a bed to shack in until I can work for my own place. Besides, they're not whores, don't be a screwball."

"Then what in the hell are they?"

"They're…" man, Kiba has no idea, "Jiraiya's girlfriends. He's a polyamorous fella. And he just needs inspiration for his books and all. I can respect that."

"Naruko, stop please. Just stop."

Kiba's the one running in circles for hell's sake, and Naruto's the one getting told to stop. The hypocrisy grinds at him all teasingly.

"You need to relax right now," Naruto tries to say, but to no avail.

"Relax? He's going to bed you too, Jiraiya, you know? That's what I'm all nervous for, the man's a famous pervert. A god damned unscrupulous pervert."

Suddenly he wants to puke. The image. You couldn't imagine. And suddenly he's also annoyed as hell, because Jiraiya would never stoop so low. Not his own Godfather—and he's almost dumbfounded at the accusation.

"Listen, man. You're an ace," Naruto tells him, and he's really sorry for this, "Top on my deck, you hear? But I'm leaving now. You were a great pal, and it was good shooting the bull with you and all, but I really do need to go."

And just as he reaches the door, Kiba throws himself between him and the exit.

"Naruko," he pants like the man ran for miles, just to intercept. "Let me drive you at least, please."

Somehow the word 'please' make him crazily more depressed. He was depressed before, but hearing please, just sounded so off. He couldn't explain it.

"I need to print something out first," he admits to Kiba, "Right by Sasuke's office, an important paper, can you drop me off there?"

As if delegated with an important task, Kiba tips his head up in a salute.

"Of course, my lady. Let me fetch the keys. Go. You wait for me outside by the carriage."

Even though the whole thing's said in jest, and in a cutesy joke, Naruto just blinks. Because you had no idea, he's not used to Naruko yet. People seeing him as a subject to be cutesy with in the first place, it was weird—and fake too. Really fake, like he's in a costume playing Naruko, but to be actually thought of as Naruko—that really irked him.

And what's worse, the whole car ride was chock full of those terrible, unfunny cutesy jokes.

Naruto couldn't wait to get out of the car. It was a marathon of one bad joke after the other—with cheesy 80's music blasting on the radio. He's wondering what kind of woman could put up with that, and then the real punchline here: is Naruto always played these cheesy games with women too, but he never knew it'd be this torturous to put up with.

Anyway, the point is, by the time he made it to city square—he clambered out the car with so much excitement, he almost tripped. Really. You could have lost your own mind to have a cellmate like Kiba, just don't ever get locked up with the sap, and don't be a woman either.

Surprised at 'Naruko' taking all her bags, Kiba doesn't hesitate to blow off the cap. "Wait, I thought I was going to drive you to Jiraiya's?"

"Ah well you see, Kiba," Naruto defends, stepping back as he speaks just in case his roommate might snatch at him, "The bus stop's right here anyway. I always wanted to try Japan's amazing busses, you know? So thanks so much. You're a pal."

For some unnerving reason, Kiba stares expectantly.

What now?

"Okay, so bye Kiba," he waves, hoping his friend would just drive off now.

"Naruko," says the other, all breathless, as if drained, and that's getting really annoying, "you never uh—gave me your number."

So that's it, huh. All this for a number, and he couldn't help feel all wry.

"My phone broke, sorry. It broke and Sasuke's getting me a new one. I'll text you someday, alright?"

Man, you should have seen the disappointment dripping and bleeding out the unhappy face. Naruto hopes he's never looked that sour when a girl's rejected him; it was just too funny and stupid. But he didn't feel sorry, not one bit.

That's when Kiba drives off, grumbling. And Naruto drags along in the opposite direction. Still imagining the sour-puss face of rejection, he keeps snickering. Actually he's starting to feel awful for it, really. Maybe Kiba's not as perverted as he thought; perhaps he imagined the pornographic gaze, Kiba could have been thinking of someone else entirely.

And what if Kiba was just really looking out for him? He really felt awful, then.

Naruto strides right by Sasuke's building, and you'd think he forgot it was Sasuke's office he was passing, except he was just very focused, is all. Too focused.

A woman with stark red hair collides into him.

"Sorry, lady," Naruto automatically supplies, before regaining himself.

She was on a cellphone, and with her bespectacled eyes, gives him a funny eye. She looks torn about something though.

"But I'm right outside Sasuke," she cries into her microphone, "won't you at least have the decency to greet me, your fiancé—but your father said—you're what? Already engaged to—who's Naruko?"

Naruto was already walking off when he heard the names Sasuke and Naruko. And all of earth might have been collapsing around, but Naruto would just stand completely stupefied.

Craning a tense neck, he looks back and listens to the one-sided phone conversation. For through the rose-tinted haze, he just couldn't even hear any other noise.

"I'll believe it when I see her," cries out the vivacious woman, pacing all panicky just as Kiba did, "you're being awfully mean. I insist on discussing this in a warmer atmosphere. Let's have lunch together—I'm right here!"

He hasn't moved an inch. Heat of embarrassment melts the rubber soles of his sneakers, and he's glued to the concrete, or something unbelievably out of his control. He just couldn't move. And to be honest, he thought he was going crazy, hearing absurd unreal things.

But then Sasuke darts out of the glass doors. Looking sharp and mean just as the woman described.

Sasuke moved and radiated with purpose, too.

"Karin, listen," Naruto hears his friend say.

You could tell, Sasuke was about to lay news of rejection to her, but then as if by magnetism, Sasuke meets his eyes—his and Sasuke's gaze cross like lightning in a dark sky.

And they stare, firing arrows with twitching brows. The worst part of it, Naruto still couldn't move, and he felt all air-headed, because he's puffing out his breaths like a bull about to charge. Speaking of bulls, just what the hell kind of bull was Sasuke shooting around? Engaged?

Karin follows the trail of vision, and she lays her narrowed scrutiny his way. Big deal. But now he's got two pairs of discerning eyes scraping his flesh. Bigger deal.

"Who is she?" then you could hear boulders smashing, because Karin's voice boomed and wailed, "That's her isn't it? That's Naruko."

And Sasuke's all slick and in control, saying, "Karin next time instead of speaking with my father, you plan with me."

"Answer the question," she demands, nearly flinging her cellphone at Naruto. "Who is she? Is that your—your fiancé? Is she Naruko?"

"Yes."

Who knew with one word, that every glass and every mirror in the world would shatter? His reflection would never look the same. Never again.

"Unbelievable. You were planning to play with her as soon as I left, weren't you?" Karin rambles like a traumatic soldier of war, as if she'd been mutilated badly.

"If I was, that'd be none of your business," and oh that was a hot one alright. Sasuke really served her.

That's when Karin spins and marches like the crazed soldier all along, straight for Naruto's—almost his god damn neck—but it was close. She snatches his shoulders in a predatory way, like she was a wraith about to suck his soul and promise a ton of pain.

Karin glares up, because Naruto's still a little taller.

"This is another one of his ruses," she accuses, but you could tell she's holding back tears, "apologize, will you for God's sake. For playing along. I can tell you're not—not his girlfriend. There's no way."

Apologize, his ass. He already apologized, though this Karin lady admittedly looked very swell and neat, and he felt real awful. Especially when wetness forms at the corners of her eyes. You had to be an odious creature to make a woman cry, you really did especially if she was all dressed and dolled up—and even worse of a man if you just worsened it, well…

That's what he always thought.

As if sensing she's about to hear no, she scarcely whisks out, "Don't you dare even humor this game of his—you crude—crude witch."

Game?

Stop, instinct begs, he needs to stop the tears: like knives plundering into him. How each jewel of grief is a drowning splash to his soul, his woes ebbing only to return with a tsunami.

"Don't cry," sighs Naruto, whuffing out a breath of shock and panic. "Hey, hey I said I was sorry, alright? And Sasuke—yeah Sasuke over there's lying. You see the thing is we're not—"

"Naruko," Sasuke's voice. "Let me take care of this."

Looks up and sees Sasuke even gesturing, with an elegant wave of the hand, to shoo. Even though there's an audience, it still hurt like a sneaky, stabbing machete to be called Naruko by his best friend—practically his own brother.

"Sasuke," he gasps, forgetting about the woman fisting onto his shoulders, "What are you taking care of exactly? For hell's sake, engaged? Are you out of your—"

You could see now, the flash in Sasuke's eyes. The flash begging him to play along. And the flash blinds him, straight into white confusion like clapping thunder and lightning. So his mouth hangs, and his brow twitches over the electrical impulse transmitted: should he play along? Why? Was Sasuke in trouble with his father again? Maybe he ought to help. But then again, something really didn't smell right. Smelled awful like rotting fish, too.

Karin abruptly rips off, and turns to Sasuke. "So she's not your fiancé—"

"Naruko's only saying she's not. Because we haven't made the announcement public yet. There's a formal ceremony planned, right Naruko?"

Never would anyone suspect hesitation and doubt in Sasuke at that moment; except Naruto, who picked up on the subtle cadence of desperation. Like an echo of a distant melody, no one else but a bat could pick up the supersonic waves pleading for emergency aid.

"Yeah," murmurs Naruto, arms hanging limp.

Tucking her cellphone, Karin flattens into deadly sobriety. "Your father never mentioned her."

She pauses, as if to ascertain the gravity. Her bespectacled gaze shines with growing keenness.

"In fact, I don't even believe either of you," which shocks the both of them, fueling her gradating skepticism. "Firstly, her bag has the logo of the same University as us, yet I've never seen her before. She's packed all her clothes, what with her socks popping out the zipper—"

Naruto jabs a fist in the air. "Oi, oi! I just couldn't close it completely, it's not fitting everything in, is all."

"Yes, exactly my deduction," she swiftly returns, bubbling with calm cunning. "You've packed up, off to move into someone else's abode because you just had a bad break up. The split could have been with a boyfriend, a roommate, someone who you used to share a place of living."

Annoyed, Sasuke opens his mouth to extinguish her flames of penetrating analysis. Until she whips her arm out for silence from the audience.

"And the conclusion of my deductions," she declares, now her spectacles reflecting the glaring rays of sun, "is Sasuke's natural opportunism. He found you in the midst of this break-up—must have been through a mutual friend, since you go to Uni with us—with an offer you couldn't refuse. Pretend to be his girlfriend."

Mildly entertained, Naruto raises a brow. "That would be something."

However, she was far from amused. "So how much was it this time Sasuke?" she presses. "A couple grand for her time?"

"It's not pretend," Sasuke asserts, although unconsciously, he fixes his tie.

"I beg to differ. This girl's slow on the uptake, which explains why she's a psych major."

Flabbergasted, Naruto's eyes widen and he nearly shouts, "How—how the heck did you know that?"

"I didn't. I simply guessed. Typical air-headed blonde, rich enough to attend, would of course take the easiest route possible. Thanks for confirming, though."

She turns on her heel, although then, she stops to say one final remark.

"Oh and Sasuke? Next time, I'd hire a woman with a degree in acting."

Her tears long gone, and her hair swishing in a harsh pendulum, she storms off to the street curb. In less than a second, faster than you could even breathe, she hails a cab and slams the door shut after her.

Now, just them shifting foot to foot, side by side.

"I like her," admits Naruto, eyes following the exhaust of the vanishing taxi. "I really, really like her."

A faint smirk passes over the otherwise blank expression, as Sasuke tucks his hands into pockets.

"She called you a—"

"Crude witch, I know. I thought it was cute. She goes to Uni with me?"

In fact, he couldn't get her flaring red hair out his mind. She burns with feisty embers, leaving the ground she tread upon with a trail of fiery roses. And her spectacles enhances her beauty, truly, with this frame of intellect and confidence. How could Sasuke ever think to pass her up?

Unnerved by Naruto's sudden interest, Sasuke veers the subject away.

"What are you doing here?" Especially gesturing at the bag strapped over Naruto, he adds, "Did something—what did Kiba do?"

However, that's when the tsunami returns. Of epiphany. Stiffening, Naruto slices the air with a thinning gaze.

"I'm your fiancé? Really?"

"Naruto…"

"Oh I'm Naruto now?"

"Don't get—"

"Who will I be tomorrow, or in the next damned hour, huh Sasuke?" he really wants a cigarette right now, light up and calm his nerves. "You can't use me like that. Hire an actress like Karin suggested, you could afford one anyway, you know?"

Sasuke leans over. "Would you just listen to me, dummy? We're not really engaged, or anything."

"Of course we aren't. I knew that."

"But I really need this favor from you."

Naruto shakes his head madly, at the implications. "Like I said, have someone else play this game of pretend."

"You're the only one who could."

Was this really happening? Naruto stares at his friend like it's the first time he's ever laid eyes on him.

"Sasuke what the hell do I look like to you? I can't pretend to be your…I can't even say it. And besides why are you so hot to have a—a fiancé? Your father, again?"

"Yeah. But if you would just stall for me—Naruto," you could hear a strangled noise from Sasuke, and the shadows flitting in the otherwise perfect expression. "Father's not just sending marriage proposals anymore. He's arranging an actual marriage. I can't. I'm not ready."

Naruto looks around, checking if anyone's listening in as if the conversation's between spies.

"And Itachi?" he asks. "Let Itachi marry that fine, swell looking Karin then."

"You know my brother's celibate."

"Wish Kiba were too," he jokes under his breath, only for Sasuke to harden.

Dark, thick stormy clouds hover over the dainty brow. But before Sasuke could speak, Naruto intercedes. This is the moment.

"Itachi called me, y'know," Naruto says, tipping up with squinting eyes, "Said…he gave you something. Something meant for me."

"Oh?" feigning indifference, Sasuke turns slightly away.

Races. His heart booms. "Itachi gave you something that could help me." When silence persists, his skin rakes with nervous itches. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sure they were in the middle of a fight. But for Sasuke to withhold a potential remedy….

"There's nothing to tell." Sasuke swiftly steals past. "Because you're not getting anything."

And with that, his heart's hanging by thin strings: world's upside down. Toppling. He chases after, and tries to reel the other to a stop, grabbing firmly by the shoulder. The moment he digs his fingers into Sasuke, however, he earns a look of brief surprise.

"Sasuke, you're kidding, right?" Because Itachi couldn't be right about Sasuke, just couldn't. "Show me what he gave you. I want to decide, not you."

"How about later," comes the dismissal.

It was the perfect brush off, because he believed. He trusts. Practically unquestionable to consider otherwise. Later today, his best friend will reveal the chance of returning to normalcy again.

"But could you tell me what it was, he gave, at least," prompts Naruto, and his eyes must plead with depth, for Sasuke tears away.

Because if Sasuke wanted to avoid the discussion altogether, he evaded the bullets masterfully. By suggesting they go to the bar, Sasuke leads them across the street, and they appeared to everyone like a couple on a date. With how infatuated Naruto felt with the proposal, the offer, he obliges. Momentarily forgetting.

Indeed they sit at this bar—the theme's always sports here. Though they're underage, this particular establishment didn't give a hoot, what with it being a lovely, yet empty weekday morning. And especially because Sasuke's a fantastic tipper, you'd want to serve Sasuke too if you could. Make a whole week's salary in just one tip from the guy, it was a sinful prodigal side of Sasuke that Naruto secretly admires.

Holding their shot glasses up, they both nod. This was their fourth round. Seeing straight, going back to work, caring about the next ten minutes, or the next day—was all lost. Now, all they care for was each other and feeling dandy.

"What're we toasting to, ya bastard?"

"To a happy engagement of course," responds Sasuke, with a wry smile.

Despite his heart wrenching, Naruto grins. You couldn't possibly resist when Sasuke smiles.

"How about," he's shaking in laughter, "to a happy bromance?"

Clang.

Their glasses collided the way their eyes clashed.

They throw back the drinks, with pleasure.

That's when through a drunken haze, Naruto slurs out, "Listen, I don't—I'm realizing now I don't have the tolerance, like I used to."

"I'll have us driven back home with me—"

"And I'm going to Jiraiya's, you know? Did'ja know the old man's moved into this amazing mansion. Ten thousand square feet in the outskirts of the city. Not bad, eh?"

Suddenly the jovial air thickens into war smoke.

"Jiraiya's?" echoes Sasuke, and anyone with eyes and ears could sense the rising tide of dark anger.

"Yeah he'll have a room for me. Fact is, Jiraiya and Itachi used to be ol' monks or something in this good ol' monastery," and man he's drunk, he couldn't shut up, and this body was god awfully vulnerable, "And so Itachi calls up Jiraiya in my favor. Tells my Godpa some secret code. So guess what? You Itachi, and Jiraiya believe me. I'm not as alone as we think."

Sasuke lowers more and more, as if weighed by deep troubling thoughts.

"I don't understand you," finally his friend says.

"Whatt'ya mean?"

"Just…just come home with me, Naruto."

The bartender comes round asking if they want their glasses filled again. But Sasuke can't tear or end their clashing gazes—as if his friend's searching and probing. 

"No Sasuke, I won't," he answers finally, although the woman's voice is talking for him, she sounded nice.

'Naruko' sounds really nice, though. She's not half bad. Maybe because he's slightly buzzed, but he wants to hear more Naruko right now. His mind's voice doesn't have a pitch, but eventually the woman's voice fuses with his thoughts. He just hopes Frankenstein or anything weird won't be born with this fusion. So he talks.

"I wouldn't want to burden you," he hears Naruko speak for him, and if he wasn't looking at Sasuke, he'd believe that a beautiful girl sat beside, "and I oughta work and live on my own, you know? I can't just shack up with you. I mean, we're not really engaged for God's sake."

"But I insist, Naruto, I really do mean it. We have an extra room and—"

"Live with you, what, forever? Are you kidding? I can't depend on your help forever."

"Don't start this now," hisses Sasuke, weighed down, with how his hair's sticking at the face and practically keeling over in pain. "You need my help. You saw Kiba didn't you? You saw I was right. I'm right about this too."

Glaring at his friend from the peripheries, he grates out, "What are you saying now? What are you right about?"

"I'm saying Jiraiya's worse, Naruto. I'd rather you stay with the mutt than Jiraiya, you hear? But you're better off with me."

Now he's really feeling horrible. Because somehow the accusations sting like poisonous darts.

"That's my Godfather you're slighting right now. My Godpa. He knows it's me. He wouldn't even consider. You're all just judging him by superficial shitty impressions, and it's pissing me off."

They don't discuss anymore. In fact, Sasuke hails a taxi for them to take moments after paying the tab. After all, when Naruto's made up his mind, you couldn't negotiate really. He's determined, and making him give up was wishful thinking.

But the confidence disappears. What if Sasuke's right too? About Jiraiya?

The thought hurts, and you'd think he's clutching a gun shot wound, with how he grabs at his abdomen. As if he's holding in the blood splatter and all, but he's not. The drunken nausea and the painful thought that Jiraiya would try something—but that's just the biggest bull he could fathom.

"Sasuke," finally he says in the ride, head lolling from magnificent stupor.

He feels Sasuke's eyes snap onto him, digging with curiosity.

"I'm going to attend class, y'know. As Naruto. My stupid advisor couldn't figure the difference, and I a'ready found a dojo to participate in."

"Naruto…you can't fight for the life of you right now—"

"I can fight. And I can go to school. Don't be a misogynist."

Somehow the second he says that, they're both chuckling. Really, they were just having a ball, and you should have been in the cab ride too. See the driver look all kinds of confused, and shooting incredulous glances through the mirrors—it was all funny. Just imagining what sort of conclusion the driver's heading towards. Naruto elbow jabs his friend's kidneys nonstop, and Sasuke'd just shake his head in ill restrained humor.

But when they finally reached Jiraiya's playboy mansion, Sasuke's humor vanishes.

"I'll see you later," assures Naruto, stepping out with his bags, "and don't forget to bring that thing Itachi promised."

"Sure," bites out Sasuke.

"Don't forget."

"You said that already."

"Don't forget, Sasuke," he croons, rolling his eyes even.

Waves goodbye, and that's that. Never noticing or bothering with the dark shadows flitting across his friend's expression. Surges with excitement though, that he'll get to tour Jiraiya's new luxurious home.

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Two blocks later, Sasuke's voice booms in the confines of the cab.

"Turn around."

Double-taking, the driver up front whips a demanding glance through the rear-view mirror.

"What?"

"Back to where we just were," explains Sasuke, with calm derision, slowly as if he were speaking with a second grader, "Turn back, now."

Feels the inertia of the U-turn, and yet Sasuke's eyes remained transfixed onto one image: the almost lost, wandering gait of his best friend.

 

Chapter 6: Team Seven

Chapter Text

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"Naruto?"

Nothing. No sign of orange, no stupid moronic laughter. Just quiet. And his breath hitches in anticipation as if waiting for Naruto to jump out any second like it's some prank. And yet, the silence dares him deeper into the gilded foyer.

He envisions all the possibilities. You couldn't trust Jiraiya to keep steady around a woman. Wasn't as though Naruto's a blood relative and to top it off, Jiraiya's no saint.

He cuts across the empty halls, save for a few busty maids dusting the furniture all skimpily. No sight of orange still. Where could Jiraiya be? He approaches one of the scantily clad maids, and trains a serious gaze into her eyes. She moans a "who are you?" like she was paid a million bucks to master her one-liners.

"I'm looking for Jiraiya. I have business with him," he asserts.

The maid lowers her duster and arches her back, angling her ass up at him.

"You mean Master Jiraiya?"

"No, just Jiraiya," he deadpans. "Could you point me to him?"

Another 'thoughtful' moan erupts from her. She seems determined to wiggle her ass until his eyes fall on it, but his periphery burns because he refuses to look. And she then traces a finger on the corner of her mouth as if she's thinking so hard her brain would explode. Then after she huffs at his nonchalance, she straightens up and probably assumes he meant it when he said business.

"He's having fun with a blonde playgirl out by the pool," she drawls. "She might be his new favorite bunny…I've never seen Master Jiraiya so taken with one of us at a time…"

Sasuke brushes past her. Plaything? His brows furrow. Favorite bunny? At this, he pinches the bridge of his nose. He follows the trail of natural, ambient light and darts through the arched halls. As soon as he steps out in the lavish, manicured gardens, he searches for the signature eye-catching blond hair. Or for the loud and obnoxious voice. But nothing. Until at last, he sees a drifting silhouette on the pool…with a cocktail in its hands.

Sighing, Sasuke crouches by the edge of the pool. And when the oblivious Jiraiya sprawled on his raft floats ever closer—Sasuke snatches it by the tail. At the sudden halt, Jiraiya pulls down his ridiculously obnoxious shades. They were hexagonal in shape. Something completely radical.

"Sasuke?" mutters the man, as though stirred from sleep. "You're early for the party, it starts at nine tonight. It's three now."

"Where's Naruto?"

Jiraiya stares at him for a moment before pulling his shades back on. "What're you the terminator? Relax, kid. You should know, he's busy goofing off in Los Angeles—"

"Naruto was just here," interrupts Sasuke.

"—oh you meant Naruko?"

At this, Sasuke feels his mind go silent. And yet, he affirms: "Yes."

"What a crazy broad, you know that woman? She comes in saying I should adopt her as my goddaughter—and I said, well, I told her what I tell all my bunnies. She could live here under my conditions. She threw a fit."

"Where did she go?"

"Hell if I know. If you find her, tell her I won't press charges. And I'm willing to try again."

"Press charges on what exactly?"

Jiraiya scoffed like a wolf that just lost a precious meal. "Out of nowhere, she knocks me right in the gut. I still feel it. You wanna see?" The old man lifts up his Hawaiin shirt just enough to expose a red circle on his stomach. In fact, he shows it with such pride as though it was some battle wound. "Why are the hot ones so crazy?"

At this, Sasuke narrows his eyes and if looks could kill, his gaze became two deadly katanas. Because he knows Naruto wouldn't hit his old man—unless…

"Tell me. I'm curious, did you happen to make any advances on her?"

"Sasuke… I barely touched her!" That's when the old man chuckles, "Although she reminds me so much of my ex-wife when she was younger. Huge bosom with a dominatrix persona, but much more fertile."

Frowning, Sasuke lets go of the raft. And as Jiraiya drifts away, he balls his fits. He knows how much Naruto depended on Jiraiya, and he knows the amount of faith that went into the old man. But here it is. The reality. Of course he checks his phone and Naruto hasn't peeped a word of it, probably ashamed and too let-down, yet again. If he boasted an ego, Naruto boasted an ego just as large as his. He calls Naruto only to little avail. So he calls Itachi instead.

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With her sophomore year starting tomorrow, she fills her planner with numerous details.

Smiling, Sakura leans back in her chair. She even purchased stickers and cutesy add-ons to bring her planner to life. Heart sticker here. Another sticker saying "birthday" there. She needed to mark each day well in advance. And Sasuke was just starting his freshman year at Keio, which meant he was bound to approach her for notes, tips, and tricks—and Sakura wanted to be on her game. Not only the top of her class, but someone to rely on for help.

Sasuke and Naruto…they'll need her help. She even saved her textbooks and notes to pass onto them.

When the doorbell rings, she starts. Sakura runs down to open her door.

"Hi, Sakura-chan—I mean—Sakura—"

Naruto's cousin? Sakura stands a bit stupefied, especially as the blonde has a duffel bag hoisted over her shoulder.

"Oh, Naruko, what's the matter? You look distressed."

"I…I don't have anywhere to stay," she flushes, barely keeping eye contact. Her blue eyes sparkled. "Could you help a friend out?"

Sakura almost asks what about Kiba? But she bites back. Alright. So then she nearly asks Naruko about Jiraiya—and again, Sakura swallows that down because Jiraiya's a master pervert and what good woman would want to hitch it with him? Then, the last person flashing in her mind was Sasuke-kun, and it made her very uncomfortable to imagine Sasuke with another woman…especially with Naruko's astounding beauty.

"Please come in."

As Sakura steps back, she sees the widest smile overtake Naruko. Her heart clenches at how open and bright the smile shines at her. Kinda…almost…feels like they were friends forever? In fact, Naruko blushes when they hold gazes. Sakura blushes too. It's Naruko's fault for making this awkward. Really, it's not fair.

"I, uh, don't know how to thank you, Sakura-chan. Thanks for helping me, you know," she stammers.

Geez, this girl reminds her of Hinata when she pines after Naruto.

"It's not a problem. You can stay with me for now." Sakura blurts out. Quickly, before the awkwardness consumes. "My roommate is currently out of town and I can arrange for you to stay here, please just relax. You've had a stressful week, I can tell."

"Can you believe I'm homeless? I mean Sasuke offered to shack it up with him…but…I just don't know…"

Sakura stiffens. So Sasuke insisted that Naruko stay with him? Like a slimy snake, jealousy winds up her heart. Sakura clenches her eyes shut. Stop. Will the envy away. It weakens her resolve—and when she opens her eyes, she painfully meets Naruko's shimmering blue.

"Like I said, you can stay with me. It's no problem. It gets lonely here sometimes without my roommate."

As simple as a snap of the fingers, Naruko grins at her. "You're really awesome and whoever is your roommate is lucky to have you. Let her know that."

A warm tingling sends goosebumps. The sensation banishes the dark jealousy from before, especially as Naruko looks at her with this pure adoration. With renewed confidence, she ushers her guest onto the sofa and prepares tea for two. She hands Naruko the remote control and they sip jasmine green tea while background noise erupts from the TV. Sakura gives Naruko a sidelong look. As the blonde takes a sip of tea, it's done so in the most barbaric fashion. No etiquette. Literally just chugging, and Sakura gasps immediately.

"You're from Los Angeles?" she inquires.

"Uh, ah…yeah?"

"You speak Japanese very decently. How long do you plan to stay here?"

Naruko wipes her brow as if she's sweating a ton. But she's not. "I'm gonna be attending Keio. You know, I kinda swapped places with Naruto. You'll be seeing me for a while."

"You're attending Keio as well?! A freshman too?"

When Naruko nods with a deer-caught-in-headlights mode, Sakura sighs. "Then I'm going to have to bring you up to speed. In Japan, we have a certain way of drinking tea. It goes like this."

After administering her lessons and with Naruko trying her best to imitate her, Sakura once again feels renewed with confidence. Here she is, helping someone not with just a place of abode—shelter from harsh world—but also developing her. Sharing her knowledge to help this other person grow.

"Now, Naruko. You should know I will be your upperclassman. If you need any help with your classes, I can be your mentor. You can lean on me."

That's when she feels Naruko's body collapse onto her.

"What are you doing?" Sakura lamely blurts out.

"Leaning on you!"

Sakura stiffens especially as Naruko's head completely rests on her shoulder. And she's not sure why she's uncomfortable, except for one reason…touch feels foreign. Especially from friends, well even her dating life seemed stale now that she thinks over it. And well, Naruko offers affection too generously. Did she even deserve this?

"I really appreciate you Sakura-chan."

Oh hell, Sakura looks away. She's done so much more for Ino Yamanaka, her best friend—and never does she get this degree of appreciation. Her heart melts.

"You're more than welcome, Naruko…chan." The way that rolls off her tongue. She should practice more. "Say, I think you should consider joining a circle. Or a club. The sooner the better. Besides your classes, it's important to build your social career too."

"A circle, huh? Like a sorority?"

Sakura shakes her head furiously. "No. That might be common in America and in movies but here we have sororities without hazing. Circles. You join a circle in which you share something in common with others. There are over a hundred circles."

Naruko bolts up and squeezes her head, crying out, "A hundred! And I have to choose one?!"

"One would be ideal. That way you don't spread yourself thin."

"Unless I come up with a way to clone myself," bellows Naruko, blonde hair catching into her mouth.

In fact, when Naruko spits out the hair, Sakura can't help but wonder how this woman manages. Nails aren't manicured, blonde hair all over the place—where was the style? With all this hair one would at least put it in a pretty updo. Forget style! Did Naruko even brush her hair? Tangles and split ends hold Sakura's gaze hostage, but not before Naruko decides to cross her sunkissed legs on the couch and sit Indian style. In baggy basketball shorts no less. She has some guts. To sit in such a way in a stranger's house? No. To think she'd never approach another girl like Naruko, who was just this different from her…

"Let me help you. What do you like the most?"

"You."

Sakura feels her chest tighten and she whips away. It feels very warm and bright under the other's openness.

"I said what not who."

"Oh. Um well," Naruko scratches her chin. "I like ramen. The color orange. Basketball too. I also like rapping! And I like playing pranks, especially on that bastard. But I guess what I like the most and what makes me, well…is martial arts."

For a second, she thought Naruto preached before her. Could she be just a cousin or really a long lost twin sister? Perhaps DNA within the Uzumaki family explained the uncanny and shared predispositions. Sakura turns away as guilt grabs her by shoulders and shakes her into a startling realization: she's best friends with Naruto since practically kindergarten; and yet, it feels like she doesn't know enough. Like who is Naruko and her parents, and what about Naruto and his family?

"Ne, Sakura-chan, there's something I need to tell you. The truth, I meant to tell you sooner but I just wasn't sure myself but…"

Sakura sets her teacup down and swallows. "You're dating Sasuke-kun."

Well she might as well put the worst-case scenario out there. Better to get the story straight sooner than later.

"What?! God no. He's one hell of a friend even though he's a bastard at times—shit I, listen. The truth is….y'know, well it's about me, uh…Naruto and well, he's not coming back anytime soon because I'm—"

"Taking his spot in Keio…. unbelievable…."

Naruko does a double take and even checks her ears before sputtering out some blathering shocked noises.

Sakura pivots to meet the other wholly and their knees touch. "I think I understand what's happening." She leans closer while they sit on the edge of the divan, and it almost looks like Naruko's slipping off.

"You do?! Tell me, so I can fix this!"

Sakura takes a hold of Naruko's hand, surprisingly clammy but nonetheless Sakura intertwines their fingers, and the hold keeps from Naruko falling to the floor. Immediately she feels Naruko tense under the touch, and when she looks up, finds Naruko flushing into a ripe tomato.

"Naruto is my best friend, and I know him to be the number one unpredictable person. He transferred out of Keio at the last minute, am I right?" Sakura reads the way blue eyes widen into saucers. She hit the bullseye, huh? So Sakura continues, "Probably loves all the attention he's getting in LA. And I bet he enticed you to switch places with him, ne? You take his spot at Keio, and he takes yours at wherever you were going to study. It's always some ridiculous game or bet with him, am I right?"

"Sakura-chan…I don't…."

"Well it's going to be okay. You agreed to do it because you're just as unpredictable as him, full of surprises and adventure. You speak our language extremely well, perhaps like a delinquent, but I'd think you were born here, and I mean, your last name is Uzumaki too? Well that doesn't scream foreigner. Just trust me—I can help you."

"Thanks," she murmurs.

"Oh and," Sakura smiles, feeling some warmth bloom into her face. "I think you should join the mixed martial arts circle…with me. Naruto got me into considering Jiu Jitsu so I joined last year. I'm not that great yet but…it feels empowering. Just getting stronger each day—"

Naruko stares at her like she's grown a new head. "You're just telling me this now?!"

"We just met!" fires back Sakura.

"You're learning Jiu Jitsu and you never told me!"

"I told no one. I was hoping by the time Sasuke and Naruto started their freshman year, I'd be half decent, but it's much harder than I thought. Don't know how Naruto's a master, except it feels like he's born a natural. Same with Sasuke."

"This is crazy. You always seemed against my fighting—I mean Naruto's choices. You made faces, I remember! The fact he decided to go on with martial arts but Sasuke chose to help run his father's business. You seemed…but you're saying you admire me—I mean Naruto?"

Sakura grins for a moment before standing up. "You promise not to tell?"

"Do a move on me right now!" bursts Naruko, arms spread wide. "Show me."

"I'm not going to hit you Naruko! This isn't for show. It's for self-defense."

Naruko pouts and her brows furrow. The doll-like appearance captivates and arrests her attention: it's crazy how unerringly beautiful Naruko was and no that's not the crazy part—it's how Sakura has to remind herself she was beautiful too. And it's not as though Naruko tries to outshine her, but rather, how easygoing and how carefree Naruko was—enough to show her natural face without makeup. Without a worry. Her confidence only magnified her presence. It makes Sakura question her own.

"Besides, tomorrow I'm attending several meetings. I need to plan with student government when our Mixed Martial Arts club will have their first general body meeting. Tryouts will most likely be later this week, and I would love for you to come. There you can see exactly what I'm made of."

Naruko keeps brushing hair out of her eyes so she can look up with unwavering curiosity.

"I will be there, you best believe that!"

Sakura nods and opens her mouth to respond but her doorbell goes off. She and Naruko exchange glances before going ahead to answer the door. When Sakura sees through the peephole Sasuke standing on her doorstep, her heart stops. She opens her door but not all the way. Just enough to pop her head out and size up Sasuke.

"Sasuke-kun, you really are killing me with these surprise visits lately!"

In fact he's not as suave as usual. Something's up. His breath smells kind of like sake and his hair's a bit disheveled.

"Have you seen Naruko?"

Sakura swears she feels a bit stupid when nothing comes out of her mouth.

"Sakura…did you?"

Why does she respond with a snippy, "Why?"

"Because I'm—just tell me if you did or not. You know why."

Her body moves on its own accord. She crosses her arms and glares at him for another stupidly quiet moment before she quips with a 'hm, no'. When he does nothing to humor her, she even glances back inside to see Naruko shaking her head and hiding under the couch pillows. Like that was going to camouflage a fully grown human. Sakura gets the hint though and returns to face Sasuke with a stubborn eye.

"I wouldn't know why. You tell me. You in charge of her or something? I mean she would have told me if you were. Besides, I haven't seen her yet…"

Sasuke doesn't blink once and it unnerves her.

"Are you sure?" he simply says.

And the way his eyes drift past her to peer into her home. Sakura blurts out, "Yes. I'm sure. Was that all you came by for, Sasuke-kun?"

Not to ask her about upcoming classes. Not to chat about how the professors will be like, or which cafes are the best on campus. No. Just him looking into her soul about whether or not she's seen Naruko. The nerve of him too, coming up here after drinking at a bar with God knows who! But none of this reasoning convinces her heart from falling to the floor because these forms of rejections hurt the most.

"I'll leave you be then."

His hands bury into his pockets and he turns away. Sakura feels her body want to chase after him, it was stupid. And yet, seeing his back somehow flung her with a sense of déjà vu. The sight of his retreating silhouette tugged at her, as though if she lets him slip away, she'll lose him forever. She loves him. She raises her hand to call out for him but…

To her surprise, it was him that stops short on his own whim. He looks over his shoulder, and in a rather loud voice announces, "Would you mind doing me a favor?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"If you come across her, let her know I have something from Itachi," he says placidly. "There's something I need to pass on to her."

Itachi? It almost sounds like Sasuke was planning to introduce the girl of his dreams to his family. The deadly assumptions make her stomach twirl. Stupid assumption. Of course it can't be true. Her mind leaps into the worst of the worst! Especially when Naruko flat out denied such circumstances! She shuts the door and hesitates. What does she do from here? Or rather how should she control her urges—for that jealous snake laps at her ankle, threatening to drag her down.

"You can come out from hiding, Naruko."

A blonde head pops out from under the couch cushions. "Oi, did the bastard see me? I didn't hear or see anything that was going on. Things got muffled down here, ya know?"

"No. He didn't see you but…I think he suspected something."

At this, Naruko almost does a backflip and roars with laughter.

"He always suspects something," more vociferous laughter. "That was funny. He's chasing me all around town when he said I wouldn't last two days! He thinks I'm a helpless loser, huh. He went to that old man's house—shows how much he believes me—and…well I'll show him. He's not right about everything."

Sakura swallows thickly. It's strange. She trusts Naruko when she says she isn't dating Sasuke: but she wasn't sure if Sasuke felt the same. The way Sasuke appeared…was so out of character she couldn't possibly put together any other reason. How long has Sasuke known Naruko? Is Naruko…toying with Sasuke? She shakes her head from these wild assumptions. But they keep sprouting up. Once she allows one, they multiply and fester! Her mind becomes so laden she's convinced that assumptions are the termites of her sanity.

And so later that night, as she gets ready for bed, she applies a soothing face-mask. Rubbing the green cream all along her face, she avoids her eyes and brows. Her hair's in a towel, spun around like a turban. The second she steps out of the bathroom, a scream tears the air. It erupts from Naruko who in that instant ducked under the covers and trembled from underneath.

"Naruko? What's wrong?"

When Naruko emerges from the covers, she whips out an accusatory finger. "Your face!"

"My face?" Confused, Sakura checks the mirror. No deformations or anything, so what the hell was the issue. "This is a mud-mask…you don't do this back home?"

"A-what now? You put mud on your face?"

"Yes."

Now Naruko tip-toes over to her until she can feel the other's breath roll down on her. Naruko sniffs her. Even pokes her cheek. Just as Naruko is about to plunge a muddy green finger into her mouth, Sakura smacks the hand away.

"Don't eat that! Anyway, er…a mud-mask is very relaxing. Would you like to try?"

"I'm good…tha—"

That's when, Sakura disrobes herself and reveals her body in just undergarments.

"Um—um Sakura-chan….whatcha doing there…"

In fact, Naruko seems to be fighting where her eyes should go. But they eventually fall to stare at her chest, and Sakura feels self-conscious because she has no cleavage at all while Naruko has the perfect bust. She knows because Naruko removes her top almost immediately. In fact, she recognizes the bra she let Naruko have, and it tightly clamped against Naruko's breasts.

"What are you doing?"

"Eh, I dunno. You took off your shirt so I took off mine."

Sakura feels her brows shoot to her hairline. "Well I'm going to take my hot bath now. It's my night routine. If you want, you can go after me. As you noticed, there's only one bedroom and bathroom. The cost-savings were really high with a one-bedroom, and you see? It's big enough for two beds. Besides, we managed to give each other privacy when we needed it so…"

Now, the moment renders itself into an awkward contest: who can play it cool better. Naruko rolls her eyes and practically whistles, kicking an imaginary pebble whilst trying to not look Sakura's way. Meanwhile, Sakura tunnel visions into those blue eyes, but occasionally her eyes slip and fall onto the exposed cleavage of the other. How do men check out girls without getting caught? Sakura bites her lip. And how can I check out this other woman's body without automatically comparing my own?

Eventually Naruko comes up with something to say. Side-eyeing her. "Baths, yeah pretty cool—I mean hot? But cool at the same time. Usually I just sit in a hot shower—none of that bath stuff."

"Well you should try." Her mouth moves on its own. Babbling is her self-defense mechanism. "I have a bunch of therapeutic salts. Plus if you like to read you could always just sit back and relax and just read."

"If ya insist…I do have this memoir here written by a world-class bastard."

"Is it Hemingway?" Upon Naruko's confusion, Sakura explains. "He was a famous womanizer…cheated on all four of his wives…revealed secrets about his friends. He's talented but what a bastard!"

"Woah, woah, I've never heard you talk like that Sakura-chan. You cuss?"

Scoffing, Sakura waltzes her way into her bathroom. "I'm at home, Naruko. I'll talk how I want."

As Sakura runs the water, and closes her bathroom door shut, she hears Naruko's distant comment.

"There's so much I don't know about you, Sakura."

Likewise, Sakura thinks to herself. Her hot bath runs, and the glorious noise fills the room. Scents of lavender and eucalyptus rise in the air and before she knows it she melts into complete relaxation mode. She shuts off the water and quietly meditates. Her mud-mask dries. She sinks a bit deeper into the water while the candles she lit provide her a heavenly sanctuary for her soul. And she knows her bath-time's up when her mask completely crisps on her face. She rinses off the mud and lets the bath drain.

As she steps out, she hears sniggering coming from the bedroom. Sakura dons her fluffy robe and slippers and makes haste.

She finds Naruko in jammies, clutching her abdomen as if she got shot.

"What's going on? What's so funny?"

In between gasps for air, Naruko waves a book. "Sasuke wrote this."

"He…what?"

"His. Dream. Journal."

Sakura barely understands the words as they drown in choking laughter. Except she bends close enough and sits right beside on the bed. Dream Journal. And of course, she recognizes Sasuke's handwriting. At first she feels an overwhelming shock: he has a dream journal? But the worst wave of realization: why does Naruko of all people have it in their possession?

"Get this Sakura-chan, I'm apparently a house for a nine-tailed fox demon—while Sasuke has somethin' called a Shangri-La—"

What the….

"Give me that!" she snatches the book from Naruko. "I want to see for myself."

Sharingan. Kyuubi. Some other foreign words strike at her, and she sees Naruto's name all over the pages. No mention of Naruko or even her. She flips madly through the pages, searching for any sign that Sasuke dreams of her. She has to be in there somewhere. Nothing. Her heart clenches. She flips all the way to the beginning of the book—and there—there she finds her name.

"Ne, Sakura-chan, if you're gonna be all handsy-grabsy, then you should read aloud to the class!"

She looks at Naruko with chilling sobriety. How could Naruko keep so calm when this was her chance to get into Sasuke's mind?

"Okay, but I went to the first few pages. It's dated five years ago." Sakura breathes in, but it's shaky and uncertain. "First day of the academy: our teams are decided. The two most annoying people in my class—that's who I'll be working with. They were even more annoying together. How will I get my revenge when weak people will drag me down? I don't look at Sakura unless I must and Naruto challenges me on everything, and I can never back down from one. Kakashi-sensei pretends to be gullible, falling for Naruto's pranks. But our masked teacher understands us…"

Naruko slaps her knees and wipes a tear. "Geez fuck. What drugs was Sasuke on? I mean…ninja academy? I gotta admit though, Chidori—sounds badass! He describes it as a thousand birds cackling. Intense, if you ask me. But go to page fifty, I got something even—I mean Naruto has a way cooler move. Ra-sen-gan!"

In fact, she could scarcely find a page without Naruto's name on it. He and Naruto jumped from rivals to teammates to archrivals…all the while viewing each other as brothers. It confuses Sakura as she scans for her own name in rapid page-flipping. Perhaps, she should actually read the damn story but all her mind collapses on: where am I in his heartWho am I to him? If he suppressed his feelings for her, then surely they'd erupt in the dream world. She searches for any sign or clue to little avail.

For page after page, and line after line—Sasuke describes Itachi and Naruto and then Itachi again and then…

"Sakura trains with Tsunade in the two years I leave," she reads in a drawl. "She not only becomes stronger but a doctor. Wait. Wait. How did he know?"

"Know what?" echoes Naruko.

"That I'm training with Tsunade—how did he know?"

Naruko blurts out a loud and obnoxious: "Huh?"

"I told you I'm learning Jiu Jutsu. Tsunade's my sensei—and I never told Sasuke or Naruto or even you…so how is he writing about this in his dream? Something's not right. Tsunade is my sensei for two classes right now: she teaches one of my medical sciences courses and she trains us in Jiu Jutsu, so…"

But when her eyes gloss over a certain passage, Sakura feels her eyes burn. Tears pour out of her shamelessly. Apparently, in this dream-world…she attempted to assassinate Sasuke, which nearly backfired. And if Naruto didn't intercept the blow, she'd likely be killed.

"I—I can't believe this…"

"Don't cry Sakura-chan! Please, please, don't. We should call Sasuke right now and demand answers!" yells Naruko, raising an imaginary pitchfork. "We need to ask him why the hell he left the village and tried to kill you. The fuck was he thinking! To hurt you…I don't care if it's a dream or not!"

She mutters a thank-you, but it's doused in sobs. She wants to call Naruto. He needs to know about this; that he's the main character in some ninja-drama that spans hundreds of pages. Whirling away, she falls on her bed. Her pillow acts like rock for her to hide under, while her cellphone lights up in her hand. But before she dials the number, she feels two arms wrap around her fluffy robed body. Naruko hugs her, acting like a big spoon.

And for some reason, she feels safe. But even more so, she feels understood.

"What a god-damned bastard. I will get to the bottom of this…."

Her mind replays how Sasuke showed up at her door. How he mentioned something to pass on to Naruko, and Sakura shakes her head. Too laden with sorrow, she wills herself to sleep because tomorrow's the start of the semester. She can tell Naruko about it tomorrow morning.

Chapter 7: Tensei Tree

Notes:

A/N: Thanks to everyone who left a comment/kudos!

Chapter Text

 

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A/N: I'm hoping to get out updates sooner. Thanks to everyone who left a comment/kudos!


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Chapter Seven

Tensei Tree

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BRIIING!

Shots ring out in the dead of night.

The sergeant calls : "Stand up and fight!"

Like a soldier, Sakura rolls out of bed with the alarm blasting the song "You're in The Army Now". She marches in a frenetic beeline: hair, make-up, outfit. Only one hour to get prepared and adrenaline roars like a hand grenade just blew up outside.

Meanwhile, Naruko mumbles in her sleep. "Kiba…shut…f'up…tryna' sleep…"

Kiba…? With a piece of toast in her mouth, Sakura can't help but stare at the girl in fetal position with the covers pulled up over her head. Thirty precious minutes go by, and Naruko nestles even deeper under the blankets, drool seeping from the corner out of a slackened mouth.

So cute.

She picked out an outfit days before hand, so one can imagine the dread when Sakura slips into it, checks the mirror, and thinks: I don't like it. Her gut turns hollow. Something hit her as…off.

Perhaps pink seems to not match her inner chakra today.

"Naruko wake up!" she whips back. "What do you think?"

Like a kid rubbing their eyes, Naruko rouses sleepily, "Think 'bout what?"

"My outfit." Her smile slightly wavers, when Naruko doesn't even look at her outfit. "Does the color make me look super pale? These pants feel a bit tight. Do you see any panty lines by any chance?"

As if overwhelmed by the interrogation, Naruko pulls the covers back over her head.

"You look good no matter what, Sakura-chan," says the blob under the blankets.

Sakura frowns. Was Naruko really hiding from her? "So you think I should change…"

"No, I didn't say that."

"But if you liked it, you'd say it."

"I did—you look beautiful in anything."

"But you didn't even look."

Naruko pops her head out for one second. "Just as I said, beautiful."

It just felt different than with Ino, who'd have something specific to say such as, 'wow is that a Chanel?' or 'the silk goes really well with the pearl earrings!'. But it's as though Naruko didn't care or pay attention to the fashion.

And yet... when she sends a searching look, she finds no inkling of doubt in the other. Not one shred of doubt. Like Naruko would find her beautiful even if she woke up with a face full of bug bites.

"Thank you Naruko-chan," the smile that possesses her soul, brightens her reflection in the mirror. "That means a lot."

With Ino too preoccupied with a new boyfriend, Sakura misses the closeness of another woman. She uses Naruko to fill the void, but they're not the same, she reminds herself. But perhaps in a special, good way. Sakura shakes her head: not like I can help myself. Naruko needs her too, because it's the first day of classes—freshman year no less—and the blonde lounges in jammies like it's a lazy Sunday morning.

"I suppose you're not going like that to school? In pajamas?"

Naruko throws her legs over the bed, grinning. "Oh me? I'm ready to go. Just gotta brush my teeth and throw on something." Then turning dumbstruck, Naruko topples forward. "Um, ya on second thought…got anything I can wear for today?"

"My closet is all yours." Turning bold, she blows Naruko an air kiss. "It's going to be a hot one, so I'd suggest dressing on the light side."

Was just an air-smooch. And yet, Naruko renders into a rubicund mess, patting the cheek in which she received the surprise.

"Light side. Got it!" stammers the blonde, bolting up from the bed. Still cupping that cheek.

Sakura blushes too, far from expecting such a 'romantic' reaction.

"Ne, ne. How do I look Sakura-chan?"

A tight, spaghetti strap top. No sleeves. Lots of cleavage though, and you can even see Naruko's flat tummy. And if that wasn't enough skin on display, Naruko also went for the denim shorts. Sakura winces, when a butt cheek threatens to escape the denim and the soft but very full breasts almost appear to cry out: "free me from this cage of a tank top!"

"Listen, I will be honest," chokes out Sakura, but then gaining momentum, firmly says, "My size is too small for you. None of the slip on or shift dresses fit, right? Then wear what you got on, but we need to go shopping later."

Naruto nods until pointing to her own chest, "Kinda feel like I'm wearing a brace. It's real damn tight."

Grimacing, Sakura pads over to her nightstand and whips out a pink measuring tape that she had secured at a baby shower or some party event. Then, after measuring Naruko's bust, confesses in a low voice with a head hanging in guilt.

"That's because you're wearing my bra, and I'm a size 32B."

Bluest eyes brim with optimism and naivete like buckets overflowing with surplus water, resembling nothing like Ino's.

"And what am I?"

"I'd say a 32D," answers Sakura, not paying heed to the confused look Naruto sends.

"I just grabbed a shirt and a pair of shorts. Never felt this tight before."

She checks her watch before saying, "We don't have anymore time. We need to go now!"

With that, she scrambles for her books and her car keys. They dive into her Volkswagen beetle, windows rolled down and music blasting (all thanks to Naruko, who turns it all the way up). Snatching the sunglasses from the glovebox, Naruko borrows her pair of shades. The blonde draws even more attention from others by throwing a hand out the window and jamming to the beat. At first the goofiness scares the shit out of Sakura; she's used to tightly wound up girls like herself, but Naruko seems like the life of the party.

GRUUGHH!

Flirtatious honks. Attention seeking racers zoom beside—and Naruko provokes a 'race' with them. Squaring her jaw, Sakura avoids eye contact from adjacent drivers…to little avail. Because some of the Tokyo drifters zoom past them, hollering:

"Hey, girls!"

Don't look. Don't look.

"I like your pink hair, pretty lady!"

One quick glance, Sakura swears. The fast-and-furious driver pops out his head and a daring elbow through his window; and instantly she notices the red cloud tattoo etched on the exposed bicep. Another furious whuff of air. Because of course his strawberry blond, spiky hair, and piercings classified him into trouble: and he brought pals. She gasps when they send invisible smooches, while Naruko wrinkles her nose at them.

Sakura swerves to dodge a tiny pothole—but then hits a red light. Crap.

"Hey, sexy. You got a boyfriend?"

She tells Naruko to ignore them, but the blonde has other plans.

"Sorry buddy, we ain't interested," Naruko yells over the techno music. "Nice ride though. Is that a 2001 Honda S2000?"

The guy with piercings takes a puff of his Jewel Vape. "Hm, it is actually. You're so incredibly beautiful, I think I'd really regret it if I don't at least find out…your name?"

"Uzumaki Narut—uh…Naruko. And you?"

Bellows of car horns blast behind, while the sun glares down, and you can smell the asphalt burn.

"Yahiko, and this is Konan." The man points a thumb back at the punk chick in the passenger seat. "Are you sure you don't want to ride with us? Your cute friend can join."

Naruko laughs. "Thanks man, maybe another time. 'Sides Sakura is with me and…I'm not the sharing type."

What? She lowers the music down because she barely heard the words she thought…wait. Did Naruko just say—we're an item? However, it works like a charm, and the troublesome guy races onwards. The rest of the car ride flutters into peace. Well, minus the stop they made at Ichiraku's drive-through (for Naruko's giant juice). And Sakura regrets it because Naruko slurps like a kid with no shame.

When they pull into the parking lot, Sakura drags Naruko under the shade of a nearby tree, almost tripping the way there.

"You shouldn't hand out your name to Tokyo drifters," Sakura pants, scarcely regaining composure. "Those guys are bad news."

As if trying to recall, Naruko stares blankly. "Ya mean Yahiko? Not like I gave my bank info out, geez. Just my name. 'Sides I'm not one to turn down new friends."

"Those guys are gangsters, Naruko. You didn't see their tattoo? In cahoots with the Yaks!"

"Okay, and…?" In fact the blonde, shrugs. "I'm not scared by some gangsters. Don't worry. I'll protect you."

Letting out an exasperated breath, Sakura lets it go. She's probably paranoid. Since the shootings near campus lately—she couldn't help it. Especially when the police reported yakuza links…and now you see strange men driving in expensive looking cars, with suspicious tattoos…

"Anyway, I reserved lockers for you and Sasuke-kun next to mine," she says. "So we can huddle up in the halls between classes."

Naruko throws back the rest of her soda before cracking her knuckles. "Is that so?"

Her heart pounds in her ears. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing."

Sakura gasps and her eyes widen. "You're not…It was just a dream Naruko! Alright? I'd rather pretend we never read the darn thing." At this point she panics, and says anything. Like a button's been pressed and she spills words to douse the flame. "Forget it. Can we just accept that it's not real and move on?"

With eyes darkening to cobalt blue, tummy flexing, and thick thighs tensing—Naruko slams her locker shut after flinging some books in there. She's never seen Naruko this way. Sure, it's only been a day since they hung out. But to see Naruko's raw side in such short notice: usually you build up to that secret treasure in others.

Sakura steps back as invisible hot fumes radiate from Naruko.

"Yeah—just a dream. Hah."

And with the confidence of an Army General, the blonde marches off…in the wrong direction.

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Sasuke evaded a deadly ambush by Naruto and Sakura. And after stepping out of general chemistry class, his mood darkens even further. Given his journal's missing and how Naruto avoided him—even taking refuge with Sakura—Sasuke figured some plot's brewing. He didn't care for public interrogations, especially in front of Sakura.

Just as he slips into the men's washroom, a familiar voice greets him.

"Oh hello, Sasuke."

Like a bouncer guarding the entrance…

"Naru—"

ko. His breath arrests. Syllable catching and dangling off his lips, but dries there. Like this was a new opponent, his eyes drift over with guarded caution. This isher blushing rosy cheeks, bright long hair styled and done up—all of which struck him unrecognizable.

Waving a journal in her hands, Naruko says, "You gonna stop avoiding me, Uchiha?"

His eyes roam over her body quickly in dazed confusion before hardening. To find his Naruto, all he needs to do is seek refuge in familiar bluest tempests.

"I'd ask you the same question."

"Hold on there, hotshot. Me first." She rushes quickly, intensely furrowing her brows. "You never showed up to your locker. Guess you weren't in the mood to explain your next best-selling novel? So tell me. How long were planning to keep this from me?"

A very strange flutter captures his breath. "Moron. This is the men's restroom…"

"And?"

"I'd rather not talk about this here."

"Oh?" Naruko grins like a mischievous cat, knocking things off the edge. "You're right. We should take this outside…I'll be waiting right by the tree of reincarnation."

He must have frozen over because she jostles him with a fist.

"Come on. You know the Tensei tree right by the fountain? It's a weepin' willow—biggest one of 'em all. Can't miss it."

"Right," he says. The famous Tensei tree. Of course.

She stares at him for a long moment, searching. Not that long though because other male students roll into the restroom, obviously perturbed to find a scantily clothed lady blocking their paths. Naruko barks at the intruders like a ruffled puppy and even storms out with such gusto, that it knocks one guy off balance.

"Dude, she's a smoking ten. And I don't blame you, but you gotta find more hygenic places to do it, man," the senior student sneers. "I hear the library has private rooms with no cameras…you should take her to one of those."

Sasuke's mouth curves in disgust. He'll steer clear of those rooms then.

When he finally makes it outside, the sun beams down. Sasuke blocks the light with a hand to keep from squinting unnecessarily; but the moment he finds Naruto sitting on a wooden bench, he stands rooted. Like sizing up a stranger, he watches Naruko's every gesture and movement with caution.

He'd never think to see this form again.

And when Sasuke parks right beside her sprawled figure, he steels up. Because smack dab in the heart of the campus gardens: Naruko sits with legs spread wide on a wooden bench. Manspreading. She slurps on another sports drink—was it the third one today?

The act draws judgmental stares, yet he finds himself standing over her like a shield to the harsh and resentful contempt of outsiders.

"I thought you said you were going to attend as Naruto."

"Let up, will ya?" she blurts out, puffing her cheeks. "I still needa' get my stuff from the storage that Kiba dumped in a garbage bag." And then kicking out her sandaled feet, Naruko crosses her arms. "I mean, no point denying what I am, Sasuke. I'm a woman now. And let me tell you, it definitely feels different. Not bad, actually."

Sasuke takes the words with a grain of salt, and inches forward.

"This is temporary, surely you realize that."

At the soft tone, Naruko rolls her eyes. "Maybe. Maybe it's not. The martial arts tryouts are tomorrow, and I have to be there," a canine unsheathes and she bites her lip, "I need to be there—male or female. I can't give up on my dream, not even for a second."

"Not to mention your scholarship," agrees Sasuke. "But we can stall it for you, I can buy you time. I know a doctor who'd write a note for you."

Naruko flashes a signature blend of sunny smiles and laughs. "You're the best, an ace in my deck. But I've already decided that I just can't miss tomorrow. And if push came to shove, I can learn to love this form, you know me." Looking away, she huffs. "Listen, I realized something last night," and tilting her head back, exposing her glowing neck. "I'm not sure what's going on, but whoever did this to me…whatever caused this—I refuse to believe it's a coincidence."

Maybe it was the way her eyes glass over in deep thought that pulls him ever closer. And a muscle in his jaw jumps when she sighs, breathing in all the sweet pollen of the afternoon.

"I mean, there's gotta be a reason why this all happened," Naruko says, elbows propped on the backrest of the bench. "Then Itachi tells me you're the reason…I didn't believe it but…"

Sasuke sits beside her, and his knee cajoles her legs to stop drifting apart. He's tired of people walking by and staring. His arm absently drifts behind her on the bench railing, as though to protect them from an ambush from the trees behind.

That's when he breathes in the intoxicating smell of Garnier Fructis shampoo. Like citrus-infused rain pouring down on him, the scent rushes his senses. Being this close now, his hand reaches for her drink. He sets it aside on the unoccupied space of the bench, so he could scoot in closer. He can't afford others to listen in. But the cost of inconspicuousness is that inebriating, pleasant floral scent hugging him to drop his guard.

And it's infused with truth serum as he finds himself very flexible now.

"So are you gonna be a famous author?" she unsheathes the journal from her bag. "Because if so, I want in. You usin' my name and all, think it's only fair if I get at least a royalty on this."

"Shut up." He practically grimaces at the absurdities spilling from her peachy lips. "It's not a fictional story open to the public…"

Naruko searches him, deep into his soul even. Very unnerving, but he lets her rivet deeper in still, for she grabs his shoulder and reels him in.

"Are you saying that…" she whispers, slow and dramatic, "you dream about stabbing the girl I love?"

Was that the only part Naruto cared to read on?

The blue irises sparkle with such innocence.

So oblivious, unburdened.

He looks away. "Forget this."

In three seconds flat, Naruko pants and huffs like a bull about to charge. "Nope. I'm not buyin' that! Don't think I didn't hear you sayin' we were cursed, and now alluva sudden I'm a chick. Then you got this journal here sayin' you betrayed me and Sakura." She bellows like thunder, spreading her arms wide. "Just lay it to me straight, you bastard. You owe me that much!"

"You really want to know?"

"Yes. I want to understand your—"

"—reincarnated."

Frozen.

"Reincarnated?" she echoes, every muscle in her face turning limp. Words become so lost on her bumbling lips. "Like…y'mean karma and Buddhism…that's actually legit?"

Silence. Blood thumping, roaring, behind his eyes.

"Yes. Dreams of a past life, Itachi's having me record them."

Intense connection between them, that not even the school bells rouse them for the staring contest. Sasuke waits for the mocking laughter or something humiliating but they simply stare into each other. A breeze whips up. Blonde hair flutters just enough to punctuate the dogged determination overtaking Naruto.

"I see…" is the response.

"You see what?" he presses, without even realizing he's pressing into her side.

"And this chakra stuff," and now he hears Naruto more than ever, "you trying to get more of it?"

"Naruto…"

He leans in close enough to whisper it into her ear. That way he could say the name without anyone hearing.

And what's worse, she places her lips over the shell of his ear, mimicking his maneuver. He feels the incredible heat tinging her breath as it brushes over the side of his face, and it smells sweet like the drink she's been slurping on. Candied breaths fill the voids, when she rambles.

"That's why you and Itachi are falling out. I asked him, when you weren't listening in. He said you've been snooping in the Uchiha shrine—and now I read in your journal your past self's…thirst…for power and—"

"Idiot. You think that's why I'm the reason for your transformation?"

They ping-pong whispers, each hovering their mouth over the other's ear. And this way, a strange tunnel forms between them and only them—he finds his eyes drifting shut; especially when the gusts of her intensity take him somewhere invigorating.

"No, but you went ahead and woke this Kaguya up, and somehow it's got me involved, I don't know—okay!"

"Do you trust me?"

He didn't mean for his voice to turn silky or breathy because instantly he feels her shiver.

"Yes, of course!"

"Then believe me," each word deliberate, cutting and precise. "I'm on your side."

As if by magnetism, they both gulp in unison. And Naruko breaks their gaze first. "I trust you with my life, you know that. But we are a team. I need you to come to me with these things, instead of keeping to yourself, got it?"

When Sasuke breathes in relief, he nods once. Only for Naruto to drop another missile:

"So, uh, am I still your fiancé?"

In that moment, petals from surrounding trees twirl in the air between them. The scent of cherry blossoms scarcely overcomes Naruko's smell; and he's not sure how or when he's become this hyperaware of it. Naruto's smell, that is: honey, rain, and what feels likes sunlight, like a forcefield, drawing all in.

Sasuke fights the urge, instead leaning back, rendering the most blank canvas. "I've told my parents. They are hosting a dinner with friends…and to introduce you."

"Wow, a party for me?" Like the sky flashes with lightning, she brightens. As if something dawned on her. "Funny how they never cared 'bout me until now. So when's this party?"

"You haven't been answering your texts. Otherwise you'd know it's tomorrow evening."

"What!" Naruko seizes a fistful of his lapels and threatens to throw him off the edge. "Tomorrow?! I'll show up, free food's great—but you gotta swear. Promise me that this is gonna be the last time, Sasuke! I can't stand lying to people," she chokes, and then admits the full truth, "If Sakura finds out, it's game over for me. I told her there was nothing between you and me."

Ice embeds into his core, and even Naruko cringes at the coldness of his tone. "The last time? You know I can't promise you that," and with that Sasuke twists her hands off him. "Just don't show up dressed like that. It's a formal event."

Seeing Naruto's eye glass over, he emphasizes: "Evening party—ring any bells?"

"I get it," is the embarrassed mumble, "but this is what Sakura had. I'm 5'9, y'know? I'll just wear my trusty tracksuit. Hm, that's not okay either? Hah, I'm only kiddin', relax, I know! Just trust me!"

He believes Naruto 'knows' but not in the detailed manner that would allow success for this mission.

She bends an arm around to throw out the drink, in which her knee brushes against his. A small, brief contact. Yet the sudden—accidental—contact seizes him off guard. His breath catching, as electricity runs up. In reflex, his hand grips tightly over her arm, anchoring her there. A cloud of haze settles when the sensations penetrate his icy numb exterior like he's never been touched before, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Yet, as soon as she retracts her venturing knee, the aching sensation persists. Lingers in a way that his hand tightens over her bare and warm fleshy bicep, without his permission, his muscles running like clockwork and he's unable to stop himself.

And it wasn't just her knee, but her palm flattening against his chest as she presses him away from her. While she chuckles, seemingly oblivious to the effects trickling from the touch.

A voice cuts into their "secret" rendezvous on the bench.

"Naruto-kun?"

Immediately, they tear away from each other. He finally inhales the fresh air and not Naruko's arresting smell of jasmine and citrus.

"Hinata?"

In a long flowy and summery dress, Hinata looked good enough to marry. At least that's how Naruto stares at her, and it unnerves him; how even though the weather strikes a heated pitch of eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit, a hailstorm from within freezes his joints. Hinata. Always glued to Naruto. Sasuke glares at her from under the hood of his bangs. Her purity attracts Naruto like honey to a starving bear, who in that moment motions for the girl to sit.

"Ah, please forgive me! I thought you were Naruto," bumbles Hinata, taking the other seat next to the blonde.

"Don't apologize. I am Naruto after all! Hahaha!"

Naïve idiot. He doesn't even need to say it for Naruto to catch the drift. Panicking blue eyes dart from him to Hinata before a flurry of hand gestures explode.

"Eh, I mean I'm Naruto's cousin after all! Excuse me, my Japanese could use a little work…ha-ha! It's been a while, y'know?"

Hinata trembles at the sound of Naruto's linguistic quirks, always buttoning lines with a "you know", and not to mention the sight of those same whisker marks…she's captivated entirely. Funny thing, she'd believe the story; the one where Naruto woke up with a sex change. He can tell by the way she gulps and even how she looks at Naruko, with such familiarity. Like she's looking at Naruto, you could see her mentally comparing: one detail lining parallel to another.

She blushes in the same intensity as though under Naruto's presence. "Right, I understand. Nice to meet you Naruko. I've been assigned to be your p-p-peer m-mentor."

Peer mentor? Why?

Sasuke must have let the question slip because Hinata answers. "During Naruto's advisor appointment, he showed interest to h-have one. So…"

"That Kakashi-sensei is suspicious," mutters Naruko, in that childishly naïve voice.

In fact, Naruko beams at her with a dazzling smile enough to have Hinata stuttering for a whole minute. Déjà vu can't even begin to describe…whatever this was. The sizzling of his knuckles as they clench, his lower back stiffening like nothing could straighten him out. A heavy weight. Just how he can't tear his eyes from Naruto shaking Hinata's hand profusely. Something about it repels his very soul.

Has him bolting the other way, only for Naruko to catch him by the sleeve.

"Oi, Sasuke wait! Where are you going?"

In the backdrop, he can faintly sense Hinata watching on from that bench.

"Lay low, moron. I'm working to change you back by the end of the week, you're drawing too much attention," and in fact he tosses her his jacket. "At least cut back on the antics, because really, paper planes in class?"

"I know, it was a good touch right?"

"And watch out for…her," says her name like it's bitter acid. "Hinata. Be cautious."

Naruko throws her head back, as her body rakes with laughter. "Hinata's an angel! She wouldn't hurt a fly, you know that."

"That's not it."

Wrapped in his usual shroud of obscurity, Naruko beams his way. He can't evade. Her searching blue rays are like military planes cutting across his dark clouds, rendering the sky clear as day.

"Then what?"

"I told you Sakura wouldn't see through that body of yours," voice is hoarser than he'd like. "But Hinata will."

Dumbfounded, Naruko blinks. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He bites back. Seeing this form—Naruko—and it not poofing or disappearing grates his patience. When the big bosom Jiraiya described, blooms into his periphery, Sasuke barely keeps his eyes off it. Right as he moves to disconnect, Naruko swipes up onto his tautened forearm, pressing into it with a fervor…as though she threatens to wrestle him for answers. 

The flaming hot sun burns his face, she can try but I'd never make it easy, and the heat surges and spreads throughout. An instinct simmers at the tips of his fingers: to steal her hand and storm off just like he'd done in the restaurant with Kiba, into a private corner of the world. And the mental film reel of their bodies tumbling for dominance, feeling every new dimension of her—her?

This is Naruto, he reminds himself, his closest friend. Yet, his pulse mounts on a chariot and races off.

"Just be ready tomorrow at five," he signals for her to release with a wave of his hand. "I'll pick you up from Sakura's."

Like a bomb's dropping from the sky, she rips away and ducks for cover. "No, no are you crazy? Sakura can't see me with you of all people, she can't know we're goin' to a party together. You'll blow up my chances!"

"Then where do you plan on staying?"

"I'll figure something out. Just text me the address and I'll show up, okay?"

His eyes narrow. "Suit yourself."

"See ya then, prince charming."

Turning away, Sasuke clenches his teeth because another part of him watches on, with dark amusement. He was going to offer Naruto to stay with him, but seeing as how the moron's refused him three times before, and his ego's still swelling from the previous refusals…he swallows with practiced patience and leaves a trail of cynicism that turns heads.

Chapter 8: Naruko vs. ...?!

Chapter Text

 

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Lo and behold: the refreshed and well-rested faces of the student body. For Summer still clings and students dally in the halls, flitting by like boisterous bees while humming in their upbeat conversations.

 

Shwiiip….

 

“You think that girl needs help?” whispers one.

 

…shwuup…

 

“She sure seems lost. Or just out of it…let’s get to class.”

 

People dart skeptical glances: at the blonde woman dragging her feet as if trudging through a quagmire. Shwwip, knees clumsily bending, shwuup. She holds a map of some sorts; and in fact, upon closer inspection, the crumpled paper seems to be a syllabus. Her blonde brows furrow so intensely, they were chopsticks that could catch a fly. Every few steps, she cocks her head to the side, and turns over another seemingly baffling page.

 

“Hey, Sailor Moon!”

 

Blue eyes flicker with no acknowledgment, deaf to the man calling her Sailor Moon again and again.

 

Finally, the boy materializes in front of her like some ghost. “Hey, are you lost Sailor Moon?”

 

Nearly tripping, she skids to a stop. The brakes slam too late and she scarcely avoids a collision.

 

“Uh, what did you just call me?”

 

Just a smidgen taller, the guy lets out a casual whuff of air. “Oh I get it. I’ll try to keep it on the down low, Sailor Mo—I mean Serena.”

 

“Hey, I think you got the wrong person,” she blinks, and all the cogs in her mind reel. “My name’s Naruko. Not Serena.”

 

“They call me Sai, please don’t take offense.” He performs a humble bow. “You in a school uniform, with your hair like that, I couldn’t help it.”

 

The navy-blue plaid skirt and knee-high socks? Naruko looks down on herself, as if double checking. Although the skirt did, in fact, feel as if it may be riding up, and so she gives the back of it a quick yank. Hopefully ass-lines weren’t showing, otherwise Sasuke was going to shove a jacket her way…again.

 

“For your information, I’m not lost, just surveyin’ the space. You a second year or something?”

 

“Yes, so that would make me your sempai, Sailor Moon.”

 

“Hey, hey! That’s not my name,” neither is Naruko, but, she keeps that tidbit to herself.

 

“Whatever you say, princess.” The smile now glitters with amusement, as if Sai’s the mad hatter in Wonderland. “Your next class isn’t Earth Science with Dr. Sabaku by any chance? Noticed you’re heading the same way as me…”

 

Naruko’s eye twitches, before raising a single finger. “On that thought, one sec. Lemme check.”

 

When she shoves a hand to rummage through her bag—awkwardly pulling out nothing—she clenches her jaw. That’s it! Mr. Michael Kors limited-edition purse was starting to piss Naruko off. Turning around, she sets offensive designer bag on the floor and bends low. Vaguely feeling the skirt pull up, she was too captivated in this showdown. She dives into that bottomless pit of a purse Sakura gave her, practically sticking a fluffy blonde head into it.

 

At last, the right slip of paper falls into her clutches.

 

Cheerful, Naruko whiplashes her class schedule. “Oi, here it is!” Raising it like it’s blessed with divine light, confirms, “Let’s see here. Earth Science with Laboratory for…wait, three whole hours of sitting through a lecture ‘bout rocks?” The cheerful bubble collapses into a pout. “I’m gonna barf.”

 

Sai laughs but it’s heady and thin.

 

Naruko finally looks up to find the man cupping his nose, with red liquid seeping between the cracks. A nosebleed…?

 

“What’s the matter with you?” Naruko asks in a daze, lowering her schedule.

 

Pulling out a handkerchief, Sai dabs the bright red blood off his face.

 

“You have a nice ass.”

 

The next thing anyone heard: metal clanging, as Sai’s shoved into the lockers. A brazen fist snatches a handful of Sai’s collar.

 

“What the hell did you say to me?”

 

A tenacious snarl skids past her lips. Daring him to repeat the blasphemous comment.

 

Sai’s eyes crescent up, while trickles of blood pours out of both nostrils. “I’m very sorry, princess. Just being honest, you bending over like that, I saw everything.” As the grip slackens, Sai decides to dig his own grave with more brutal honesty. “But are you wearing your grandmother’s underwear?”

 

“You bastard…” she grits out. Yet, her grip slackens further.

 

“Please forgive me,” repeats Sai, raising his hands like a white flag. “Besides, as your sempai, I thought you should know that around here, Dr. Sabaku has a reputation for being brutal. It helps to have friends.”

 

At that, Naruko scoffs.  “You saying you’re my…friend?” She wrinkles her nose and steps back, giving him air and letting him breathe. “Look, I didn’t realize when I turned around and bent over that—never mind. I ‘preciate your honesty. I shoulda known but I—hell—let’s just say I’m not used to people looking up my ass.”

 

Her momentary flash of vulnerability was a comet darting across the sky; and in a word, intrigues him.

 

“I’ll walk with you,” he says, blood drying over his smile. “I’m taking that class as an elective this year.”

 

She offers neither an affirmative nor the negative. Instead, stretching her hands behind her head, Naruko whistles down the remainder of the corridor; although she never permitted Sai to drift behind her. One embarrassing mistake was her limit for today. Though, she whips out her phone and googles this Sailor Moon character. Turns out Serena is the moon’s princess, guardian of moonlight, and a leader of a bunch of cute girls in sailor’s costumes.

 

Scrolling through each sailor scout, Naruko nods. She could get into this. But it was Sailor Mars, with her dark hair and pale features, wielding the element of fire—which really seized Naruko’s attention. In fact, upon reading more of her bio, Mars had a boiling hot arrogance, which arouses Naruko. Failing to notice…

 

How running ahead, Sai opens the door to class, only to let it swing onto Naruko’s face. Clutching at her reddening nose, she cries out.

 

“Are you okay? You seemed in charge.” Sai plays surprised rather well, mouth forming an ‘o’. “Silly me, I should’ve known that Serena tends to be clumsy.”

 

“I’m. Not. Serena.” Naruko trembles with impatience.

 

Sai smiles (much to Naruko’s chagrin), holding the door wide open this time. “Hurry, princess. Class is about to start, and we’re stuck with front row seats.”

 

Just hope I didn’t break my nose. Sure felt like it. Naruko marches over to her seat, which unfortunately, handed her the short end of the stick: dead center in the front. Nobody likes the front! Shit. She grabs the sides of her face as the world around her turns into a maddening whirl—three freaking hours sitting in the front meant:

 

No paper planes. No texting. No falling asleep.

 

Not when Gaara paces up and down the front of the lecture hall, making strict eye contact with students. And when Gaara’s emerald beams shone her way, Naruko clenches up. So she nods. At whatever the hell the professor says—to make it look like she’s paying attention. Except the problem was she kept trying to guess Dr. Sabaku’s age instead of listening to the lecture; he couldn’t be older than thirty.

 

“Now, I say this every semester, but I prefer being called Gaara. However, there’s always a couple students who insist on calling me Dr. Sabaku, which I understand,” announces Gaara, crossing his arms. “And if that’s the case, just ‘professor’ will do.”

 

Naruko leans in with fascination. She props her head on her hands, tittering on her elbows, absorbed with curiosity; especially as Gaara divulges a little of his backstory. Meanwhile, Sai leans back because his ‘curious fascination’ rivets onto the girl beside him.

 

Gaara raises a packet of papers. “Let’s take attendance. Please correct me in pronouncing all your names.”

 

Then, things got monotonous and boring, Naruko zones out. Until…

 

“Uzumaki, Naru—”

 

With reflexes of a wind goddess, she bolts up, slamming both her fists. “Here!”

 

She stands up against a flaming supernova. The spotlight. Runnels of sweat trail down the back of her neck. People staring, as though from all angles they launched kunais—and Gaara too, who lowers the sheet to glare at her…appraisingly. You could see the realization dawning in the professor.

 

“Come see me after class,” he tells her swiftly, in such a flat voice, it was impossible to guess what the implications were.

 

Free-falling back into her seat, Naruko lands in a plop. She passes Sai a note which reads: poke me if he’s glaring my way, or somethin’.

 

Sai reads the note in amusement. And he watches her with determined curiosity as she fiddles on her phone, googling random things. To the point, he realizes he’s really staring, and forces it to a sidelong. His breath strangles at the flitting changes of her emotional landscape. How she pouts: the bottom, plump lip furling out. Or when she huffs, as if a sudden burst of steam rolled out her nostrils—feistier than any woman he’s ever encountered. But no, feisty was inadequate.

 

She is a marvel of depth and tenacity, the only two things in which intelligence and ardor are blunted.

 

He wants to paint that more than anything in the world, now. Imagining the brush strokes, he closes his eyes. Depth is the winding corridor deep underground. Tenacity is the pair of feral, amber eyes glinting behind metal bars. Scratching against the paper, Sai sketches in a fury—at every interval, glancing at Naruko. His muse, now.

 

Because in this ink wash painting, wind wrecks the entire page. And the wind…came from her. He pulls out several shades of ink, which melt on the paper like watercolors. He loses himself. And the only time he pulls away, is to catch a glimpse of whatever soaring spark flitted in her blue eyes—and the rest of the lecture blurs.

 

My muse, he mentally caresses the word.

 

The edges of the world brims with golden light, but it’s just her sunny hair, cascading in dazzling rivulets. Sai mixes a cadmium yellow with a smidgen of lush raspberry red like her lips. With the Professor behind the podium and reading off notes, Sai paints in the details.

 

Although Sai loses track of time. He hears the shuffling noises of backpack zippers and antsy students, all of which signal the end of lecture.

 

“Woah, you’re crazy talented!” Naruko snatches the ink painting into her excited paws. “I’d buy this if I had the dough.”

 

While the classroom empties, he can hear his heart thudding in his ears. “You actually want to buy it?”

 

“You kidding me! I look at it and it’s like I can hear the water dripping in that cave. And the fur on that thing—the fox? Looks so real.  Yeah…how much?” and Naruko even taps his shoulder, smiling brighter than the sun in Madagascar. “Damn, who knew I’d make such a cool friend? You took doodling to a new level.”

 

“Thank…you...?”

 

Winking at him, she takes out her froggy coin purse. She rattles it, which only emphasizes how empty it is.

 

“Man, I can’t tell you how much this makes sense to me—and believe me, art’s not my thing—but when I look at this, it’s crazy. I feel like I’ve been there before. Like I’ve stood in front of that cell and touched those bars—damn, it makes me appreciate what I have now. I feel good.”

 

She feels inspired? That was a first for him. He’s had many women say a whole host of pleasantries—but never about his paintings. Her glittering blue eyes swallows his vision, and he forgets to blink. Sai rises to his feet, numb and in a spell, scarcely feeling himself ascend. Except he’s a bit taller, looking down upon her as she rummaged through her purse, he finally manages to gather his senses.

 

“A gift,” he murmurs, pushing it her way. “I owe you anyway for earlier. I really am sorry for having made you uncomfortable.”

 

Stunned, she accepts it with a nod. “Really? I don’t know what to say.”

 

He couldn’t possibly thank her with words. The sudden headrush of ideas, stories, thoughts, daydreams—Sai wanted to catapult home and fetch out the dusty blank canvasses from storage. And that’s exactly what Sai does, after waving goodbye.

 

“You’re not too bad yourself, princess. Looks like you know how to draw the letter X,” he offers a sympathetic smile, heading for the exit. “See you in next Monday’s class.”

 

Wrinkling her button of a nose, Naruko glances down at her own ‘doodles’. Yes, two sticks indeed cross into an X, and it symbolized two swords clashing, alright? Not everyone’s a professional artist, but apparently, Sai was.

 

Once again, Naruko peers down at the ink painting. An epic drawing with incredible perspective. As though you were standing in the depth of a cave, and your hands wrapped around beams of metal, while looming over you, was the silhouette of a monstrous fox. In fact, her hands tremble when the fox from the painting smirks at her. Feral, ill-repressed energy flowing out from its prison. Naruko can feel it. The sketch shows scars of wind whipping from the shadows. Scars which practically scrape and wound.

 

A sweeping sense of déjà vu. It’s impossible: but somehow, she swears…if she closes her eyes, she can hear a deep echo, a guttural growl, calling out to her…rumbling…to come closer.

 

But closer, where?

 

Badum!

 

Her eyes snap wide open. The classroom door thuds as the last student exits. She carefully stashes the painting into a folder, before dragging over to Gaara’s desk.

 

“Uh, Professor? You said you wanted to see me?”

 

Gaara keeps his arms crossed, playing a poker face.

 

“Yes.”

 

Eh? Naruko turns beat red at the brevity. Just a ‘yes’? She shifts from foot to foot, especially when the professor just stares into her very soul.

 

“Mhm, so, I um—hope I didn’t do anythin’ to piss you off,” she scratches behind her ear. Is she on the right track? Because Gaara gears impassively, and it’s like speaking with the royal queen’s imperial guard. “Y’know, bursting out like that, I didn’t mean anythin’ by it, I swear.”

 

Up close, she sees the dark circles etched around his eyes. But other than that, the professor’s body appeared as young and lean as some of her classmates, except…there was this aura of humility shrouding his edges—like the man didn’t eat unless to meet the very basic nutritional requirements. Melancholic. Because her nose catches whiff of rain, and perhaps it was the way his burnt, crimson hair drapes over the outer corners of his eyes.

 

“You seemed tense when I called your name,” he finally says.

 

Before she could react, Gaara slides the attendance roster over to her.

 

“And your photo appears to be a boy’s…Naruto Uzumaki.”

 

Oh boy, I’m screwed. Naruko presses a clammy palm to her face.

 

“My name’s Naruko.” She doesn’t deny the evidence. She says this all muffled, because she cups her mouth with both hands. To keep the panic plugged. “And what can I say? Appearances aren’t always what they seem. That’s what good ol’ Shakespeare used to say, right?”

 

Gaara tilts his head low. “I see. It’s not my business, and you don’t have to answer—but are you transitioning?”

 

“Transitioning to what?”

 

Her hands fall limp to her sides when Gaara adds, “Students who transition from one gender to another—as you can imagine—would be interested in getting their information updated with the office of administration.”

 

To replace Naruto’s photo? How can anyone suggest something so radical? Naruko’s a fun ride, but…she shakes her head, and laughs like the man proposed the most preposterous toast at the party.

 

“Professor, I’m Naruto’s cousin from the States! I’m just standing in.”

 

“Very well,” he says, uncrossing his arms. But anyone with ears could hear the man was unconvinced. “That is all the clarification I require for now. Thank you, Naruko.”

 

However, as she leaves the room, the small 100 x 100 thumbnail of Naruto chases after her. Barely been a week, but the line blurs. Because…

 


                                                                                


  … seeing his picture—opened floodgates.

 

Like mirrors made of ice circle him, and the needles of his reflection embed into his flesh each time he goes to the bathroom to take a leak. But then one time he passes the mirror and he’s captivated by Naruko, a perfect image of a Parian doll.

 

In the girl’s locker room, he finds an isolated island where the coast is clear. He kicks off the skirt and the ‘sailor’s’ blouse (as Sai annoyingly alluded to) and jumps into his signature orange tracksuit. Home sweet home. Loose and baggy all over, he could probably fit four arms into one sleeve, and Naruko’s body wasn’t as broad-chested, but the hips more than made up for it.

 

That’s when Sakura marches down the main isles, rallying all women in a five-mile radius.

 

“Ladies, chop chop! Tryouts are starting now!”

 

Zipping up the front, Naruto hurries—only for the cute and perky ‘hall monitor’ to blow the whistle. He nearly jumps.

 

“Oh! Naruko-chan, glad to see you.” Sakura lowers her whistle, and gears into a commander pose. “You’re wearing…his…gear?” Her eyes flicker with an unrecognizable emotion, as though he strummed a chord in her. “Never mind that now, there’s no time. Are you ready? Hah! Good. But I should warn you…the turnout is way off the charts. I mean, way off. The gym’s totally packed, I’m not sure why. Just don’t get nervous, okay? There’s a lot of people, but remember no matter what, you get ranked—got it?”

 

Sakura checks her watch before blowing her whistle like a tea kettle exploding with excitement. “It’s time. You and Hinata are up first.”

 

Suddenly the world becomes a mute tune.

 

I’m going to fight Hinata?!

 

He rushes up after Sakura’s retreating form, but it’s too late. And gently pushing the door to the University’s grand gymnasium, Naruto peeks. Just one peek. Like a skittish fox, he titters on the edge. Holy…

 

cow. Cheers reverberated throughout. But how? Loud like a maddening symphony, sounds so luxurious, epic. He backs away, retreating into the locker room once more—for he needs to forage his thoughts for some sense! When this was simply supposed to be ranking day; and yet, the crowd in there acted as though the champion of the universe would be selected.  Something was up.

 

How else does a low-key event turn out to be some televised high-key one? Because he saw camera men, and that’s not normal, was it? Diving into the bathroom, he splashes some cold water on his burning face, and ties the hair into a screwball of a bun.

 

“Okay, you got this,” he says to Naruko, who winks back coyly.  He finds himself used to her, as she stares back. “I want nothing less than the best, Uzumaki.”

 

Through the looking glass, Naruko shakes her head. She points at him and then back at herself.

 

“Wait, you mean we got this?” Her blue eyes widen before she nods. So Naruto grins back at her. “I thought we switched places for now because you’re a scaredy-cat?”

 

Naruko huffs her cheeks at his taunts. So he raises both his hands in surrender. “Relax, I get it.  I don’t blame ya, I’ll take over for now, so kick back and relax, Na-ru-ko-chan.”

 

That’s when her eyes flare with embers blazing across her irises.

 

Naruto waves her off. Wasn’t too crazy to talk to yourself in the mirror, right? And stepping into the fray, he fastens the white billowing headband over his forehead.

 

In a word, the turnout was overkill. The gym barely contains the crowd’s energy. Nonetheless, his experience took away the edge of nervousness, and warm-up exercises felt like a breeze. Even in this woman’s body, with enough meditation, he focuses the harmony between mind and body, any techniques he thus learned would not be all lost.

 

During warm-up, and after a few somersaults here and there, Naruto springs up—catching whiff.  Because slam bang in the front row sat Hinata’s cousin, Neji Hyuuga. And he can smell his rival’s arrogance from here. Or rather, was it the expensive cologne? Yes, that Prada perfume—he could smell it a block away!

 

So Neji came by…suspecting Naruto would be here…except he’s not really here, but Naruko is. This’ll be interesting. Explains the cameras and turnout. Neji planned to publicly challenge him to a rematch; ever since he ruined the guy’s 71 win-streak this past summer, he’s heard rumors of a rematch. Too bad.

 

Like this was a ballroom, a few dozen participants tangoed with a partner during warmups. At some point, he intersects with Hinata, and as they pass:

 

Hinata whispers to him. “Good luck today, Naruko.”

 

His heart strangles, especially when the sea of clamorous clapping washes the melancholic words away. And then the dreadful moment comes. When Tsunade steps onto the arena, a microphone in hand, looking peculiarly younger, somehow.

 

“As some might already know, this event helps me select the individuals who are a fit for my dojo. Therefore, the purpose of these matches is not to win or lose, but to test the skills of those who wish to join my circle.”

 

Tsunade cracks a smirk before it drowns under the weight of her somber gaze. “My assistant, Shizune, has carefully matched the opponents. And in each fight, we’ve pitted a current student of mine against the newcomer. Here, the fight will last no more than five minutes. Stepping out of bounds will end the match.”

 

The busty sensei coughs, a bumble, because she raises the roster and reads the line-up.

 

“For our first match, my current student Hinata Hyuuga vs. …”

 

That’s when Tsunade bears a perturbed expression, as she lowers the roster. As though she just saw a ghost. Naruto winces when the woman drills a suspicion look his way; could she know? After all, Tsunade-sensei might be a fearsome dojo master, but she was still his aunty. Even after she and Jiraiya divorced, Tsunade would still smother him to death with affection like it was some monthly dose of medicine. And he remembers only now, that he forgot to get back to her angry voicemail. The one where she yells at him for not calling this past week, and that she wanted to see him before school starts.

 

Tsunade stares at him, and he gulps. It’s as if she senses he’s a fraud. Fuck. Why didn’t he listen to Sasuke yesterday? Something about contingency planning—he should have at least measured the depth of the water before plunging into it headfirst.

 

“Uzumaki, Naruko.” Tsunade finishes dryly. Toying with the name. “A supposed novice from, apparently, Los Angeles.”

 

The deadpan was evident in Tsunade, who read the brief bio with dripping irony. After a tense moment, Tsunade removes herself from the middle of the circular ‘arena’, which was simply tape marking the boundaries on the gym floor.

 

“As per custom, once you bow,” Tsunade declares, “the bell will sound.”

 

Clammy hands and sweat runs down the back of his neck. One glance, and you could see the judges leaning in on their seats, still murmuring to each other. Namely, Killer-Bee, a guest judge, who twirls his whiskers in deep contemplation. Killer-Bee used to be his fencing coach in high-school, and Sasuke’s too—but…wait, where the hell was Sasuke? Searching the crowd, a whole lot of unfamiliar faces. Lots of random guys though, probably getting a kick out of chicks going at each other.

 

Then, Naruto catches whiff of Sakura in the sidelines, chattering at her nails, flaying her cuticles. Is she nervous for me, he wonders.

 

They bow. The gong goes off.

 

And he’s not even in ready position or anything. But Hinata is. She looks ready to take him on, jutting out two fingers in a tiger stance. To punctuate, her headband flutters when she fluidly twists her feet forward, drawing closer.

 

Standing like a stupid pencil, upright and arms at his sides, Naruto just blinks. This is embarrassing. He bites the inside of his cheek. Perhaps his reflection was right, he needed Naruko for this. Naruko’s a woman, so this should be a legitimate duel, between two willing women—and yet, the thought of laying a hand on Hinata, has him cringing. It’s a sparring match Uzumaki, he reminds himself, snap out of it.

 

“Please, don’t go easy on me,” urges Hinata, probably noticing his hesitation. “As I won’t hold back.”

 

Before he can get a word out, she cuts up close and dispatches a swift blow right under his rib cage.

 

“Gah—Hinata-chan, you—” shit that stung, and he clutches the wound. “—you’re serious.”

 

And another one of her pale fists flies at him. He dodges, gasping, “Hinata, wait. I don’t think—” I can fight you.

 

In her endless dance, Hinata charges forth with powerful momentum. Time moves slowly to the pace of snow fluttering to the earth. Her eyes shine with glazed determination, and he can sense her next move. Her two pearly white knuckles aiming for his kidney, in hopes to subjugate him.

 

Tumbling back, Naruto scarcely evades the lethal blow. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

 

Instead of humoring, Hinata lunges forward, serving another array of fists. Her intensity, unleashing in this rampage, becomes so palpable—as he lets himself catch one of the tiger palms. Like catching a blazing meteorite, Naruto winces as he grips her forceful fist, stumbling back from the transfer of momentum. Trickles of sweat run down the sides of Hinata’s surprised face.

 

Vaguely, he hears the audience going wild for that.

 

But the abrupt connection: of her fist into his pitcher’s grip, transmits vibrations down to his bones. She craves acknowledgment. He feels the trembling force threatening to penetrate him, pleading him for a real fight.

 

“Would you be upset,” Naruto says, now feeling a familiar tide of energy coursing in his veins. “if I said I was holding back?”

 

Hinata freezes. And when she throws her other arm like a whip, Naruto deflects it with a sharp elbow block. She cries out, stumbling back.

 

“Hinata-chan, I’m so sorry!”

 

He’s about to run up to her and forfeit this match. But she smiles at him with every fiber of her being, and says with her resolve:

 

“Don’t be. You’re strong…and I admire that about you.”

 

With that, Hinata melts into another tiger stance. This time, however, her feet shuffle in a sporadic, feral dance. And a peculiar idea whizzes by him—if she wants to dance like a tiger on the offense, he’ll dance like a monkey and evade her every pounce. He’s known for being hard to hit.

 

Naruto gulps. If I can tire her out…outlast her somehow…

 

Like two heat-seeking missiles, Hinata’s assault nearly grazes him. Naruto continuously dodges, and if the audience was impressed at his agility or Hinata’s ferocity, he couldn’t tell. Focusing on her only. How she cuts the wind and aims for his vital points…Naruto titters on the edge of the arena.

 

This is it. I have to do something. She inches forward. He takes an inch back. The back of his foot dangerously close to the edge.

 

“Naruko, come on! You can’t lose now, not without a fight! I’m counting on you!”

 

Sakura yelling so loudly, even over his heart pounding. She cares?

 

Hinata propels forward with incredible gusto. As if a freight train barreled right for him, Naruto braced himself, balling his fists. If he’s knocked out of bounds: game over. With reflexes as fluid as water, Naruto lithely stretches away from her fist. But he locks tightly with the sleeve of her jumpsuit, and like two revolving doors, they fling in opposite directions.

 

“Hinata out!” calls out Shizune. “End of—”

 

That’s when Tsunade roars, “Continue. I wish to see more. Carry on until the five-minute mark.”

 

Naruto clenches up, fur raising like a fox on alert. Because once again, Hinata returns to a prowl, cautiously circling him. The muscles around her eyes flare, and she had this uncanny way of jutting her fingers out like she was cocking a gun at him.

 

“You’re really holding back,” she accuses him.

 

“Why,” Naruto says low enough, as if he’s questioning himself. “Just let me forfeit.”

 

“Do you look down on me?” Hinata asks seriously, inching closer, ready to strike.

 

“No—”

 

“When you bowed at the start, it means shared respect. If you didn’t think me a worthy opponent, then I should be asking you why?”

 

Naruto stares at her, eyes widening. The waves of confusion are tides bearing down—forcing him to lower into a crouch.

 


 

Tensing at the sudden shift, Hinata pauses…especially when a gutturally low noise erupts.

 

“You’re right.”

 

Folding in a low stance, Naruko is a tense spring. Ready to bounce on the offense, but instead beckons her over.

 

“Come at me.”

 

Hinata doesn’t need to be told twice. She tiptoes around Naruko’s dangerously low crouch—unsure of what to expect. In fact, Naruko’s vital points are harder to target in that position. She waits for the moment of vulnerability. And when it reveals itself, she leaps with faith.

 

Only for control to be utterly lost. In the flip of a coin, Hinata hands all control over on a silver platter.

 

For swift as the wind, Naruko steals and twists her attacking arm. A storm. Feels like chaos. Because yanked forward, Hinata’s jaw is now perfectly positioned for a blow. Naruko slams a wrist in that soft, delicate part.  The sound of flesh meeting flesh, fwack, and the transfer of momentum has her feet shuffling back.

 

Eyes screwing shut, Hinata fails to react. First, a forehead pummels into her abdomen. Then, two determined arms wrap behind her thighs. How Naruko flips them into a tumble on the hard gymnasium floor—she’ll never remember. Until finally the world stops rolling around and Hinata opens her eyes again—

 

To see Naruko straddling her.

 

To hear Tsunade yelling fives minutes are up, “End match!”

 

Even though her jaw aches, Hinata’s heart squeezes so suddenly, so abruptly. Blinks three, no, five times, to still feel pinned down by the blonde.

 

“You okay, Hinata-chan?”  

 

Panting, Hinata looks up from the dark fringes of her hair. All she knows, she’s holding her breath. It hurts to hold it. Because they lock gazes, she sees Naruto. She’s hallucinating. Did she get hit hard enough to see things? But it was him—his cock-eyed optimism—his clear blue skies casting over her benumbed body. Her body, which naturally surrenders, even without her consent. And most poignant of them all: his smile, cracking like dawn after a rainy, tumultuous night.

 

She keeps blinking, willing the double vision away. Frantic panic: until finally, she sees Naruko again. “I’m f-fine,” really she was, the pain already dissipating.


 

Sakura feels her eyes widen.

 

What seemed to be one fell swoop, Naruko subjugated Hinata into the ground. And right as the blonde mounts the girl, Tsunade already announces the match’s end. Everyone tensed, as somehow this unknown fighter neutralized Hinata.

 

She’s about to run over to hug Naruko, but something stops her dead cold.

 

“Don’t even think of sitting next to me, cousin,” sneers Neji.

 

Heat cackles from underneath Neji’s smothered flames. As if damage exists within and erupts in lashes to Hinata. The recent death of Neji’s father has taken a toll on him, and Sakura had felt sympathy when Naruto told her about it.

 

“I’m sorry, Neji, if I embarrassed you…” says Hinata, fragmented, brokenly.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“I m-mean I’m sorry. Neji…sir…”

 

“That’s better, when you know your place.”

 

That’s it! There’s no excuse to treat Hinata, an innocent, that way. Death of a parent, or not, Sakura means to turn around and give him the red card but—

 

Naruko practically somersaults onto the scene with a microphone in her grasp.

 

“Oi, oi! Um, is this thing working?” and then poking the mic, pauses, “Oh, good. How are ya doing Neji, good old friend of mine!”

 

Unhinged, Neji stares flatly as if it were children making a ruckus and not a grown adult.  “Old friend? I don’t believe we’ve ever met before,” he says, bored and unimpressed. “And I’m not interested in knowing you.”

 

Naruko feels the drop. And hell, what a crazy descent it was: into the shadows of dismissal. If it weren’t for the fact that in another life, she was Naruto, a boy—she’d completely miss the change. For now she shares the same position as Hinata and all women, being coldly disregarded as inferior—at least in Neji’s eyes. As feeble, weak, and lesser.

 

The lack of eye contact. The genuine dispassion. The closed off body language…it was all subtle. Never explicitly said. But this wasn’t how Neji regarded Naruto. Damn, it hurts like lemon to a bloody scrape—lemon in the mouth, bitter too—how Hinata might be feeling, actually.

 

Wrath fills her, turns her into a mischievous demoness. Naruko puckers her lips. “Don’t tell me. You came all the way here for a rematch with Naruto?”

 

Neji’s shoulders hunch at the accusation.

 

“Right, mhm, that’s what I thought. Somehow you’d figured I’d—I mean Naruto—would show up here. You always got good intel, Neji, you always had deep insight and I’ll give ya that. But not good enough, because you see, Naruto’s out of town.”

 

At this, Neji bolts up like lightning. “What’s your point?”

 

Naruko reveals her canines and leaps backward, whipping a thumb back at herself.

 

“Just that, oh y’know, how Naruto left me in charge.” She laughs so charmingly into the microphone, the gymnasium falls deathly quiet. “So I’m gonna say this once.” She bares her teeth in a growl, drawing her fist back in intensity like pulling the lever of wrath. “His battles are now mine. And in the name of Naruto and Hinata combined, I challenge you to a fight!”

 

Camera lights flash unexpectedly, and Neji blanches under the scrutiny.

 

But in the next breath, Neji laughs—suddenly thinking this to be a real joke.

 

“I have no interest fighting you. You’re simply not my cup of tea.” Neji turns up an aristocratic nose and smirks. “Actually, let me rephrase that for you since you’re adamantly deaf—I think you’re a waste of my time. It’d be a sad show if I had to fight you. Two seconds in, you’ll be crying. It’d be everyone’s waste of time.”

 

Naruko makes a taunting noise into the mic, zzz-ah, as if pretending to be burnt, which sizzles through the speakers.

 

“Scared to get beat by a woman? I get it.”

 

Another camera flash, with one of the video recorders stumbling to get a closer look at Neji’s contorting face.

 

“Give me those two seconds to prove you wrong, Neji, come on. And you oughta know, there’s a co-ed open tournament six weeks from now,” continues Naruko, making sure to speak slow enough for everyone to take notes, “and if you’re too chicken to show up, well then—”

 

“Enough.”

 

Neji cuts up close enough to her that the only two possible options were to kiss or kill. You couldn’t be too sure, not when two personal bubbles collided, and breathing down each other’s necks—neither Naruko nor Neji backs down.

 

“You won’t even last one round, but I accept your challenge.” Slicing, sinister voice reverberates throughout the whole gym. “I wonder how you sound begging for mercy? Because I will take great pleasure breaking you Naruko.”

 

Even though Sakura feels her heart twist at such a dark voice, Naruko instead rallies:

 

“That’s Naruko sir to you, and we’ll see about that. I don’t break easy!”

 

At that point, Tsunade struts over and wrestles the microphone out of Naruko’s paws; thus, the show, the tryouts went on—although, Neji had darted out of the gymnasium. The camera guys, of course, tailed after Neji.

 

Sakura feels her hackles rise as if she’s been zapped: wasn’t every day you see a newcomer infused with warrior’s spirit, a female fighter too, challenging the man with the 74-1 win-streak on television, to a duel. And while she favors Naruko’s intentions, the actual reality fell upon skeptical attitudes. Not only was Neji of another weight class, but he is—well—a man. And there’s a reason why the two genders are segregated in professional MMA fights.

 

Despite doubt sweeping the spectators, Sakura swallows thickly. Especially when a nest of hope blooms, because maybe Naruto will return before those six weeks. And then, this ridiculous duel can be all but forgotten.

 

"Sakura-chan, thanks for cheering me on back there. Not sure if you noticed, but Neji's not doing too well. You think I can help straighten him out?"

 

"I don't know," Sakura painfully inserts. Carefully measuring the blonde's reactions. "He's known to be a cruel fighter. And in an open tournament, the rules do little to protect the fighters. Naruto…told you it's okay?"

 

“Since when do I need a guy’s permission to fight my battles?”

 

Says it as a joke, too. But Sakura’s eyes widen in a sudden epiphany. She stammers, “I didn’t even realize I…no, you’re absolutely right.” Her voice sounds carved out, and abruptly fills with wonderment. “I couldn’t help but feel admiration for you.” The compliment glitters in gold, and Sakura turns away. Because when offer your heart out in the open, eye contact’s a challenge.

 

“By the way, have you seen Sasuke on campus today? I wish I knew what was going on with him lately. He’s withdrawn. Won’t answer his texts. Avoiding me entirely...he’s my friend, more than anything.”

 

Sakura finally looks back, slinging such a pained expression. Naruko winces, but not in sympathy, never in pity. Feeling what she feels—of neglect and abandonment sweeping over. Like they were the last people standing on apocalyptic earth, while everyone else ascends to Heaven.

 

Naruko struggles to hide the grimace and reaches for her hand.

 

In fact, Sakura appreciates the gesture and gives her palm a squeeze.

 

“And the other day, when you were over, Sasuke came by. With alcohol under his breath…he never drinks. Granted, he just hit the drinking age, but—I wonder if it has to do with Naruto’s abandoning us? It must be hitting him just as hard as it’s hitting me.”

 

Only for Naruko to hunch up at the confession. “Listen, hey, hey—Naruto didn’t abandon you! He’ll be back soon—I promise. And wait, you’re sayin’ Sasuke isn’t answering his texts? He’s usually on point with that. Hell, he has one of those Bixby or Siri slaves to do his bidding. Sadistic bastard, enslaving AI like that. He must be—oh shit! What time is it?”

 

As soon as she says it’s five, Naruko flails like a turtle stuck on its back.

 

“I gotta go! Let’s talk about this later?”

 

She nods, recouping her strength. “Alright. Be sure to check the bulletin in front of the Student Union! Tomorrow the ranking results will be posted there.”

 

But the blonde already rockets away, and Sakura sighs.

 

Because like a yellow flash, Naruko bursts out through the backdoors right into Keio’s track field. The family party: that’s why Sasuke’s not here. Naruko made the promise to be there six; and after leaping across the field, fresh air smacks, she’s about to run out the gate only—

 

The city bus wags its tail seductively as it darts out of the stop. And the noise pollution of Tokyo drowns out her screams, as she pleads for the bus to come back. In fact, many of the passengers within that bus look on with terror when a furious blonde bangs the doors.

 

The bus driver shakes their head, refusing to open up.

 

Naruko slams the door with a mighty and ferocious kick. “Come on! For just one second, I got money this time!” screams Naruko, sending another kick to the glass doors. “I swear I got money—lemme in!”

 

Passerby sends furtive glances at her form, which doubles over as she pants for air. I promised him, is the knife twisting into her, as city folk glare at her for squeezing her hair. Shit, shit, shit. The next bus comes in fifteen minutes. “Shit!”

 

“Naruko, fancy seeing you here,” says a voice from behind.

 

Turning, the blonde glares at the man leaning upon the wall of some brick-and-mortar Smoke/Vape Shoppe. Apricot hued hair and honey tinged eyes, the man expresses an amused smirk.

 

“Hopefully you didn’t forget me already,” he says, kicking off the wall.

 

Naruko finally catches her breath. “Oh right, Yahiko, hey. Now’s not a great time—”

 

“I can see that,” he grins before taking another puff of his vaporizer. “You have some place to be? And it looks like you’re in need of a ride.”

 

“Actually,” holy shit, stuttering, with how excited the idea of someone offering to help. “It’s a…” what was it again? Mind blank, she taps her own nose in thought. “It’s a family gathering at this restaurant.” She grins too, matching Yahiko’s cheekiness. “’M supposed to be there by six, but it’s already 5:30.”

 

“Say no more.”

 

With that, Yahiko pockets his vape and smoothly steals her hand. To which Naruko freezes up at the touch…only for Yahiko to take the piece of paper she was holding.

 

“Hm, funny you say restaurant, but the address says Aragawa,” he reads absently. “It’s only the city’s most expensive and exclusive venue.”

 

“I didn’t realize,” she scratches her head, and looks up with a truly innocent stricken expression. “I swear it’s a family gathering.”

 

Yahiko looks down on her with an ascertaining look, as if trying to feel her intentions out.

 

“Well you’re not wrong, it is indeed a restaurant. But they’re not going to let you inside dressed like that.”

 

Naruko’s eyes widen because this was the best tracksuit one could own! “They’re not? I didn’t…well shit. What am I going to do now?”

 

In fact, she plops down on the curb, head burying into her knees.

 

“That bastard really is gonna kill me…” She peels her face up, just to mock Sasuke’s voice: pinching her nose, nasal and all, “I knew you’d screw up this mission again—deadlast!” Amplifying her ‘Sasuke’ voice, “I’m right and you’re wrong, dum-dum.”

 

“You’re cute,” laughs Yahiko. “This ‘bastard’, who is he? Your brother?”

 

Ears perking like a fox, the word brother, has Naruko quirking up curiously.  Sasuke is without a shadow of a doubt—

 

“He’s a brother to me, of course. I just call him bastard, I guess, because we bust each other’s balls from time to time. But deep down, I know better.”

 

Yahiko stares blankly as if the answer barely registered in his mind. But then he makes a noise of concession, as if saving the confusion for later. He fishes his car keys out of a tight denim pocket, and jingles them enticingly.

 

“You must have Lady Luck on your side, then. Just so happens I live right across Aragawa with my step-sister Konan. And I’d bet she’s a smidgen taller than you, but otherwise, I think you’d be a perfect fit. For her wardrobe, that is. She’d help you, if I asked.”

 

Angels sing and a heavenly ray parts from the overcast sky. Naruko shoots back on her feet, eyes wider than saucers. “Really? You’d do that—for me?” It’s like you told a homeless, three-legged dog, that they could have all the treats in the world. “Are you sure?”

 

The man seems taken aback at her humble shock. “For you, yes.”

 

In fact, Yahiko beckons her to a sleek car, totally different from the last time.

 

Turns out, as Naruko pets the bright red hood, it’s an Alfa Romeo 4C Spider with the convertible hood pulled down. The exterior sparkles. Yahiko takes great care of his property or buys a new car every day, or something. She means to ask but the knife in her chest twists, when she sees the time on the dashboard: 5:45. She gives the Alfa Romeo another pat, in solidarity. This type of car is known for speed and power, so hopefully, she can make it before Sasuke’s party ends.

 

“I seriously don’t know how to pay you back,” blurts out Naruko, hopping into the passenger side. “You saved me.”

 

And while Naruko’s struck in awe at the ‘kindness of strangers’, Yahiko can hardly suppress the smirk spreading wide. What a catch, he thinks. 

Chapter 9: Foie Gras

Notes:

Thanks for the feedback, you guys are awesome!

Chapter Text

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Under the arches, Sasuke waits.

 

Perched on the penthouse floor, he floats over the city. An incredible view of Tokyo’s city landscape meets the eye, if only Sasuke bothered to look. Meanwhile, the candlelit ambiance envelops all guests, and if you breathed in deeply, the scent of fresh roses should’ve melted tension away.  However, Sasuke might as well have been standing on the precipice of a cliff. Ready to jump ship…

 

Where the hell is Naruto?

 

Because thirty past six, and yet not a word from his best friend. Tryouts ended at four; so, what’s that dummy caught up in now?

 

A cold trail of sweat lingers the back of his neck. He checks his phone again, devoid of any notification. When he glances back, he sees father working a crowd of friends but never failing to shoot a furtive, but disproving glance here and there. How with one look alone, Sasuke hears the message almost telepathically: on your phone again, astray, and without the woman. Make no mistake, his father winced with disappointment.

 

In a brash gesture, Sasuke turns his back on all the guests and dials Naruto again for the fourth time. Even though the jazz ensemble plays in the background, his body curls in…to the sound of the final ring on the line instead—before clicking to Naruto’s deceptive voicemail. That is, a sixteen-year-old Naruto’s message plays, the boyish voice he’s so familiar with, from high-school.

 

“Hello?” A perfect pause, enough to trick anyone into saying ‘hi!’. But then the voicemail message proceeds, “Haha! Just kidding, I’m not here. You’ve reached Naruto Uzumaki, please leave a message after the—bayeep!”

 

Sasuke grips the phone like he would’ve gripped Naruto’s collar.

 

“Hey. Did you forget?”

 

What if something happened? A rain cloud pours over him, and he turns numb and distant. He’s about to craft a text to Sakura for an explanation, but then he’d have to explain his own silence to her texts.

 

“A single rose can be my garden…a single friend—your world.”

 

Sasuke freezes midstep, glaring back at Itachi. “You’re overreading it.”

 

 “Am I? Just tell me little brother, has Naruto experienced any déjà vu? Any dreams?”

 

“None.”

 

The word cuts and bites. Itachi offers a sympathetic look.  “Do you wish for that to change?”

 

Feeling like a primary suspect in a criminal investigation, Sasuke snorts.

 

“I didn’t ask for it, if that’s what you’re implying.”

 

“Ask for what?”

 

When Sasuke turns away annoyed, Itachi proposes another angle.

 

“That fateful night, when Kaguya’s mangekyou illuminated the shrine, I withdrew Naruto out of the well,” says Itachi, lowly, “but not before noticing something peculiar…a curse mark.”

 

“What?”

 

“So you don’t know,” hazards Itachi.

 

Sasuke clenches his fists. “If I knew, you think I’d keep it from you?”

 

“Well, yes. You do know. You’re not remembering, Sasuke. If you stop writing down the dreams, they will stay forgotten.”

 

Whirling down the drain, the peripheries blur. Maddening too, how he turns icy and hot all at once. Sasuke forgets to blink until a heated breath escapes him and somehow, a sheen of sweat forms around his edges. Curse mark? And he thinks of one in particular, the hell he had experienced. On Naruto...

 

And the heat burns inside, so that he finds himself speaking with a distant voice, as though he’s in a hot air balloon…hundreds of feet above the ground.

 

“I’m done with the journals. I don’t want to remember.”

 

Was that really him talking?

 

“Yet there’s a reason you can recall. You know how incredibly rare this is, reincarnation without the soul cleansing itself anew? It’s not a coincidence.”

 

That’s precisely when clapping and laughter bursts from the guests. Just for a moment, Sasuke looks over to see the commotion: such jovial faces, swishing whiskey and the like, exchanging jokes.

 

 “It’s unfortunate you are closing the door. But then again, what’s the point, if Naruto doesn’t remember?”

 

When Sasuke gears in silence, Itachi smiles deliberately.

 

“Have I hit the mark?”

 

“The past is the past,” he coldly dismisses. “And the only way to solve the problem is to destroy Kaguya once and for all.”

 

Itachi laughs, and the chuckles of mirth really shock him.

 

“You’re right, the past is the past. But even if you forget it, it remembers you.” 

 

All this was meant to reassure: and yet, his pulse bounds like a bank robber on the run. The old him, the part of his soul that was bathed in a blood frenzy, has seen eyes plucked out of a man’s sockets, has held a blade to both Sakura’s and Naruto’s throats—that part of him—he wants to crush. Leave behind. Not look back, and the good news was he wasn’t far along in the journals. Given his track record, he hedges his bets, there’s more gore and sin and—

 

It wasn’t too late slam shut the door.

 

“I cracked it open for years. All I see slipping through, is darkness—and for what? Tell me. What’s the purpose?”

 

“At least acknowledge honestly that the answer to Naruto’s transformation may very well be in the past.”

 

He growls, “So you’re saying if I’m to help Naruto, I need to recall everything?”

 

“Yes, but…” Itachi tilts forward, somber gaze and everything. “You are in pain, little brother. I can see it in your eyes. Then please let me solve this mystery without you having to relive the sins of the past. It will just require more time.” When Sasuke sucks in a breath, of relief, Itachi softens. “Especially since the texts of that era have been burned by an usurper. The legends of our ancestors, as you know, survived mainly through oral transmission: generation to generation.”

 

Which is why Itachi is so hellbent on having him record his memories. If it weren’t for Naruto’s unearthly transformation, he’d believe this to be a complete hoax.

 

“And I believe Naruto has been branded with karma—an ancient curse mark. That’s all I can say with any confidence.” Itachi reels in closer, dropping to a sinisterly low whisper. “Jiraiya at last answered my call and I’m to meet with him immediately. Should you detect any sudden changes in habits, behaviors, you must alert me immediately. Can I trust you to keep an eye on Naruto?”

 

Like he was being asked to remember to breathe. “I will.”

 

Itachi taps his shoulders assuredly. However, when Sasuke opens his mouth to get in a word, Itachi breezes past, gone with the wind. Somehow his older brother masterfully escapes the party—well-practiced in the art of the Irish goodbye—as both mother and father failed to notice.

 

Phone’s dead quiet, as he tucks it into his suit pocket.

 

Itachi’s wrong. His world didn’t revolve around one person, or a ‘single rose’. He had parents this time—he had a family—and a respectable career ahead of him. He wasn’t going to walk out on it. And yet, while the memories from his past threaten this new life…Naruto’s branded with karma?

 

We can’t catch a break, can we?

 

Air flutters with striking chords of piano from the jazz ensemble playing on stage. To the music staccato, Sasuke practically tiptoes into the fray: where in one corner, his father’s closest business associates laughed, and in the other, his mother’s dearest friends stood with wine glasses in their hands.

 

People wave a lasso, to try to rivet him into their useless conversations. He could hold his own, yet he couldn’t deny the sinking feeling.

 

Radio silence from Naruto.

 

Of course, his mother calls out to him, beckoning him over.  He doesn’t care for humoring guests, but if you’d seen the way his mother blushes, and how she’s smiling like some angelic figure from the Renaissance, it would be impossible to deny her. The second he’s within arm’s length, Mikoto locks her arm around his, doting on him, and it vaguely embarrasses him. However, with all the dreams of losing his parents, he lets her squeeze without protest. To have his mother’s embrace was a privilege.

 

“My Sasuke,” she practically mewls.

 

And her voice chirping like a lovebird, she adds, “I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Hyuuga’s youngest daughter, Hanabi.”

 

 “Nice to meet you,” the girl performs a curtsy.

 

He offers her a nod and the pleasantries. And Mikoto never lets go of her son, as her eyes crescent with so much joy. “Oh sweet Hanabi, your high school graduation ceremony will be right around the corner. And you are growing into a fine, lovely lady.”

 

Mikoto makes a fatal mistake in asking Sasuke to confirm with a “Ne, Sasuke, don’t you think so too?” because he turns mute. No, not mute. He raises an impassive bulwark. And at his frightening nonchalance, Mikoto chuckles and paws at the air—as though it was her son being shy and holding back. Although Hanabi tucks in a stray hair behind her ear, shifting uncomfortably; and Sasuke nearly cringes because she flashes him a look of hurt.

 

“So how is our darling Hinata?” his mother deflects. Masterfully too since right then, a butler swivels on by, offering Sasuke a drink.

 

Now he has something to keep his hands busy with.

 

Mrs. Hyuuga swishes her wine glass. “Hinata was unable to attend tonight,” taking a slow sip, she sends Sasuke a penetrating glance. “She is very busy with her studies. I believe she and cousin Neji are taken with Naruto. They all seem to be preparing for several tournaments.” Anyone could hear the undertow, especially with that smirk dawning on the woman’s features. “Speaking of which, how is Naruto doing? I heard he’s out of the country.”

 

Now, Mikoto turns on him with doe eyes. “What, Naruto-chan out of the country, since when?”

 

That’s when his phone shrills. Text messages, bombarding and alarming. He unpockets his cell: Naruto flashing across the screen.

 

“I have to take this,” he excuses himself.

 

He fails to see his mother blinking, and Mrs. Hyuuga smirking knowingly.

 

As soon as he whirls away, though, he reads Naruto’s text in a daze: hey, hey, can you come outside? I’m here. Just stuck on the curb. No big deal.

 

Stuck? Sasuke swears he rereads the message three times. And it still makes no sense to him. So, he steps into the elevator and the flight down twenty floors zooms by, with his body standing on the precipice again. Like he’s close to the edge, a curtain in his mind flickering. Doubt creeps in. Nonetheless, he zips past the various gatekeepers: the reception area, and the doormen, and into the brisk outside world…

 

At once, he faces the evening sky: orange and red swirling as the sun descends.

 

“Sasuke!”

 

Taxis honking loudly, he swears he heard his name. Even at this hour, waves of people run over the streets.

 

“Sasuke, over here!”

 

The sea of people parts just enough—a ray of golden light cracks through—revealing a blonde woman waving at her entire arm like it was a flagpole with such gusto before she’s consumed by another tide of cityfolk. And Sasuke stands for a moment stupefied: was that really…

 

Naruto?

 

A flaming hot vermillion sheath dress hugs her hourglass figure, while her lips red as cherries mouthing “Sasuke!”; and he stands frozen, because this woman has bangles on her wrists, earrings, and strappy heels. Her long hair, gold like straws basks under the sunset. This couldn’t be Naruto.

 

“Get over here, you bastard!” she bellows, now cupping the sides of her mouth, as if on megaphones. “We got a serious problem!”

 

The crazy moment of: it’s not a bird, not a plane, it’s Naruko. The new name really sinks in for the first time.

 

As if Sasuke teleports over, he’s at her side in an instant. “You do realize how late you are, right?”

 

She blinks owlishly, dramatically. And this close, he notices mascara boldening her blonde lashes.

 

“You do realize how hard I tried, right?” she counters, gesturing at her outfit. “Your pops is gonna blow his cap off. I mean, look at me!”

 

Sasuke searches the blue pools of light for a clue, a sign.

 

“Overkill…” is what he says, before he could stop himself.

 

“Excuse me?” her brows shoot up. There it was. A flash—Naruto challenging him on the dare. “What the hell did you say?”

 

“You know what I mean.” He smirks when Naruko clenches up. “The fact your five-inch heel’s stuck in the subway grate, and that you need me to come rescue you.”

 

Fwiip! Naruto whips out a silk fan marked with an insignia of a blood dragon. She fans herself, and lets it hover over her quirking lips.

 

“I mean, I could just chill out here. Enjoy the sunset and the smell of car fumes. Not like I hafta go up, shoot some bull with your folks…and pretend to be your girlfriend.”

 

He’s already getting on his knee just to wedge Naruto’s shoe out of the grate. You could hear the subway roaring from underground, hot air wafting through. But perhaps it was when he wraps his fingers around the back of her supple calf, he feels hyperaware of every single cadence. How her muscles tense at his touch. The way the pads of his fingers press into her as he stabilizes her, grips tight enough, while his other hand carefully jerks the sparkling heel out of a rusted metallic mesh.

 

“Eureka!” she cries, freed from the subway grate.

 

Sighing, Sasuke folds off from the ground. He turns to head back but stops short when, again, Naruto appears ‘stuck’. In fact, she stands like a deadweight in the middle of the sidewalk, and a look of embarrassment holding her hostage. Even though not one hair’s out of place, her eyes wander as though she feels completely lost.

 

“What now, deadlast?”

 

She fans herself, playing cool when it’s obvious her brow quivers in embarrassment.

 

“Thanks for getting me out of that hole. I appreciate that.” A grin devours her face. “But I can’t walk in these shoes for the life of me.”

 

“You’re not serious…”

 

“ And you’re not fair! I don’t like how you’re taller than me now. I thought maybe this would even us out again. ‘Sides, the girls made it look easy.”

 

At this point, he rubs his temples. “You can’t walk at all?”

 

“Nope and I can’t risk fallin’ in this dress—‘cos it’s not mine—and I’ve been, y’know, trusted with it n’stuff.”

 

So that was it. They both stare into each other, until Naruto whips her chin up in the air defiantly. Sasuke feels his brow tremble with incredulity as another painstaking long ‘showdown’ of theirs drags. At some point, a blue eye furtively glances back at him, before whipping away once more. Sasuke sighs again.

 

“Just grab onto me,” he offers his arm for her to hook onto. “There’s no other way around it.”

 

“Guess not.”

 

She weaves her arm around his, and thus, they waltz back into the foyer. One slow step at a time. One two…one-two-three. Should he dare to pick up speed, Naruto would trip in certain doom. So he moves with mercy and leads them ever slowly—lips quirking smugly when Naruto squeezes him tighter as they ascend some steps.

 

They’re in the elevator. Alone. Bright amber light flashes: floor ten. Only twelve more to; but then a cloud of a poignant smell fills the confined space. Sasuke scarcely suppresses the grimace.

 

“What is that smell?”

 

 “Oh that.” Her eyes crescent in embarrassment. “See, I was kinda in a rush from tryouts and didn’t get a chance to shower. So I had to use perfume. Ya like it?”

 

“No.”

 

“And before you ask,” says Naruto, unaffected, “this silk fan’s a cool prop I snagged, don’t’cha think? I’ll stuff my face, and bam! Fan over the mouth chock full of food—but no one will see or think anything other than ‘ladylike’.”

 

He shakes his head. “You’re clever when it suits your needs, Naruto. But this isn’t a buffet style dinner.”

 

“Can you say that again?”

 

“Sometimes you can be clever but—”

 

Only for him to glance to his side—to find Naruto whipping a phone out.

 

“Go on,” she prompts him, “I just want to have a video of you complimenting me for once on my phone.”

 

“Put that away.”

 

“Come on! Just say it again, big deal!”

 

He threatens to sever his arm away from hers. However, Naruto stubbornly grips onto his arm like it’s a lifeline.  Her claws dig into him.

 

“Wouldja relax? Stop gettin’ all crabby, I put the damned phone away.”

 

“Good, because I bought you a new one for the interim.”

 

Naruto does a double take, when now, the newest Galaxy S10 passes into her hands. Pretty damned smooth too, the way Sasuke slips it over to her, as if flicking her a mere card.

 

“The hell are you giving me this for?” as one perplexed brow raises. “You know I’m an iPhone guy!”

 

“Naruto…”

 

“No, no, it can’t play iTunes! I need my music.”

 

“It’s for Naruko, not you,” he tells her stiffly.

 

She blinks. That’s a new inflection in Sasuke’s voice unheard of before. A sort of hesitant, exploratory intonation—it quivers without the man’s ego. Like vulnerability is a spice to her palate, and it leaves an adventurous aftertaste.

 

“Well, Naruko says thank you,” Naruto jokes, jostling a fist into a stiff shoulder. “She’s not as picky as me about her electronics. But she is picky ‘bout her perfume, lemme tell ya! Was the reason I ran late. Some perfume bottles were in the shapes of flowers, some in the shape of shoes, it was fun sniffin’ all of ‘em.”

 

Sasuke sighs, to which she taps a tune with a stiletto heel.

 

“Y’know, this phone is the third gift I’ve—well actually—Naruko’s gotten.”

 

At this, he snaps up. Gifts? And so quickly, his eyes dart over to her sparkling earrings, and detailed hair ornaments, and other jewelry—which no way could Sakura account for. Sakura’s budget was like any other college student’s. Expensive jewelry, then, from whom? Sasuke turns on her with the urgent question at the tip of his tongue, except:

 

Elevator doors ding open, and the penthouse floor is theirs to conquer. Yet, Sasuke tastes the unsaid question burning at the tip of his tongue; how exactly did Naruto manage to scrounge together attire and jewels and a look meant to seduce.

 

“Fancy,” murmurs Naruto, anxiously even. “Maybe you shoulda left me outside.”

 

By reflex, he taunts, “Scared?”

 

She finally rips away from his arm. “I got this, trust me. You ever see a martial artist struggle with just shoes? Art of the crane. Balance. Just watch me, see?”

 

Naruko walks with the shoulders, rather than the hips. A man driving the vehicle that is a woman’s body. Even she expresses drastic facial expressions, brows furrowing, only to be grinning then so wide—anything but “ladylike” elegance. As a contrast, Sakura would wield her femininity as though it were a bewitching charm, the coy smiles, and gentle and fluid movements. Naruto on the other hand, wants to be the center of attention, dazzling energy and almost visceral snappy movements.

 

As Naruto speaks with the guests, every cadence of speech is accompanied with emphatic hand gestures. For a second, Sasuke fantasizes throwing his friend into a straitjacket to quell all the excessive, jerklike reflexes. Only for a moment though. Because something about watching Naruto flurry about, soothes him. It was his favorite show, if he had one.

 

“Dating your best friend,” hums Mrs. Hyuuga, now sipping her second glass of the evening. “What could be more perfect than that?”

 

“Oh, I’d say your dress this evening would come close,” Naruko flirtatiously winks at her. “You look pretty damn perfect in it, if I’m allowed to be honest.”

 

Sasuke flinches imperceptibly. Not surprising, Hinata’s mother feels ten years younger and before she could open her mouth, he tells Mrs. Hyuuga they’re off to eat.

 

The second he leads them away, Naruto mumbles. “Forget the food. Let’s go see Itachi.”

 

“If you had arrived on time, then the answer would have been yes.”

 

Her cheeks emblazon with fever, while muscles tense around her dainty clavicles. Not only the effeminate bone structure, but the soft glow from her flesh…Sasuke restrains the urge to reach out. Almost didn’t feel real, like looking at a hologram, the urge to touch, to see if this was an illusion. When she talks, he hears someone new and familiar at once. Like a radio tune he’s heard before in the hazy backdrop of distant past. How her shoulders and body hunch forward, with no restraint, carefree.  And, the most unsettling feeling kicks in when he stares—and there’s no poof or smoke cloud—and she’s staring right back.

 

“He left?! But what about the thing he had for me?”

 

“Change of plans. Jiraiya finally turned up and Itachi’s meeting him now,” he tells her.

 

In answer, Naruto yanks him by the arm…only to be disappointed at how little she managed to budge him. Nonetheless, she screws a handful of his sleeve to steady her wobbling gait. A dizzying wave passes her.

 

"I just got light-headed, S'uke!" she says in one gasp. "That never happens, what if it's this body?"

 

"Relax, dummy, you'll be fed shortly."

 

But in the back of his mind, Sasuke steels up with paranoia. After all, the idea has been implanted: her body branded for a purpose unknown. Instinctively, he reaches for her arm once again to steady her. And at the generous gesture, Naruto flashes a smile before wincing again from what seemed relentless hunger pain.

 

“Smile for me one more time?”

 

Surprised at the request, Naruto smiles. Hesitant. A slow upturn of her glossy red lips.

 

“Show your teeth.”

 

“My teeth?” Naruto blinks, only to reluctantly expose all pearly whites.

 

Sasuke whips out a handkerchief. “You have some red lipstick smudged on your front teeth. It looks like you ate a horse heart.”

 

“Oh crap, really? Get that off me then!”

 

Leaning close to her, Sasuke dabs gently around her mouth, “You have lipstick everywhere,” he adds, “what a clown.”

 

Even she stiffens up at the soft tone taken. In fact, all else blurs for Naruto melts at the attentive, almost doting, ministrations. Perhaps in another life she was a dog because just like a puppy, she beams up and rather than covered in mud or dirt, it was in makeup. Her oblivious smile wafts such sweet mirth, he finds to be dangerously contagious. He quickly pivots away.

 

“You didn’t have to go this far for me, Naruto.”

 

The corner of her mouth quirks in mischief. “I surprised you, huh?”

 

Sasuke reels back, signaling for a waiter. And upon further instruction, the waiter responds that a delicious five course meal for a Naruko Uzumaki is on the way.

 

“You always did,” he says, but low enough where she fails to hear it.

 

.

.

.

 

Unknown to the two of them, Mikoto watches the scene with a gleaming hawk’s eye. How her son attended to the pretty lady with gentle ministrations, such intimacy and warmth exuding—all of which struck her in awe. Never has she seen her Sasuke act this way with a woman, and as a mother, to see her son smiling again…

 

She could no longer stand idle, and thus, Mikoto pulls up a seat beside the ‘romantic’ couple.

 

“My darling Sasuke,” she says in a singsong voice. “I’m patiently waiting for you to introduce me to the beautiful woman you brought this evening.”

 

“I’ll introduce myself, hey Mrs. Uchiha!”

 

“What a pleasure to meet you Miss…?”

 

Naruto continues grinning even though panic tore apart from the inside. “…Uzumaki,”

 

 “Miss Uzumaki, in relation to Naruto?”

 

“He’s my brother.”

 

Sasuke shoots her a look: cousin, not brother.

 

Shit, you’re right: she volleys back, with a nod.

 

“What I meant was cousin,” Naruto says through grit teeth locked in the same grin. “Thank heaven ‘cos I’d turn insane if Naruto was my brother. He’s too much like me ya’know? Couldn’t imagine living with him since we’d fight for everything: the same slice of pizza, the right side of the couch, and same shower schedule—”

 

Sasuke plays a poker face, but he dispatches a swift kick to her ankle. His best friend immediately jerks up, and silently yelps.

 

“The point is, mother, this is Naruko.”

 

“Well I must say Naruko, I am so happy to meet you!”

 

“It’s nice seein’ ya again, Mrs. Uchiha,”

 

Mikoto falters. “Oh, we have met before?”

 

In fact, Mikoto notices a sudden movement in the periphery. Under the table. Beneath the cloth, her son’s foot toying with his girlfriend’s. Footsies. A blush consumes her cheeks and she leans back. As shock overtakes, Mikoto holds her breath because it was just this summer Sasuke turned eighteen, holding the coldest visage—such an icy indifference. Yet now, she slowly raises her gaze; since for once, Sasuke seems…wholly present and rather open. His shoulders point towards the blonde maiden, while his arm rests on the back of Naruko’s chair, as though ready to swat any intruder from their space away…as if his arm were some protective shield. Mikoto manages a smile.

 

Naruto sees the smile as an opportunity to lean in.

 

“Well, ya caught me!” voice pitching up in a last-ditch effort. “Just horsin’ around…I saw you a coupla times this evening, is what I meant.”

 

The fact Sasuke visibly grimaces, Mikoto couldn’t stop the chortle of laughter escaping her.

 

Luckily, the waiter glides into the space, announcing in a nasally pitched boom:

 

“For Miss Uzumaki—foie gras in a grapefruit-Chardonnay sauce and apple purée.”

 

Naruto thanks the waiter. And immediately clouds of delicious promise wafts; oh boy, when it hits, she salivates by reflex.

 

The waiter bends low enough to carefully unveil the beautiful arrangement of grilled whatever the hell foie gras was. A scanty portion of what appeared to be meat, but these days you couldn’t be too sure; after all, tofu lurked in every corner. Bravely, Naruto reaches for the steely knife, only for Sasuke to intercept the motion.

 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” reminds Sasuke, with a level tone.

 

“Oh right, sheesh! How could I? Duh.” Naruko nods, drowning in the savory scent. “Itadakimasu!”

 

“No…dummy…you take your napkin like this and fold it over your lap.”

 

“This thing’s a napkin? I thought it was décor.”

 

“Here, I’ll show you, just this once.”

 

Mikoto tries to pretend she’s caught up with something else. But there was no way she could avert her eyes long enough, for her son unfolds an ivory cloth and lays it on the blonde’s eager lap. The whole while Naruko laughs sheepishly, saying things along the like of “I knew that!” or “Thanks but I had that in the bag!”.  

 

And when Sasuke leans into her attentive ear, whispering a translation of what foie gras was…

 

 “You ordered me duck liver?” gasps Naruko.

 

“Just try it. What’re you so scared for?”

 

“Er…I guess…I do tend to like what you like,” consoles Naruto, to herself, forcing a nod. “But…liver? I don’t know.”

 

“What’s there to know? Give it a chance.”

 

Sasuke himself cuts a piece with a fork as the meat was tender and succulent enough. He raises it to Naruko’s mouth. In fact, she tilts back to refuse; and yet, Sasuke chases after her, prompting her lips to open.

 

“Don’t be stup—” notices Mikoto watching, Sasuke corrects himself, “don’t be stubborn. Open, now.”

 

Mikoto excuses herself. For she feels as if she is an intruder on this romantic scene: how her son seems so captured and preoccupied in Naruko’s atmosphere. Every move that girl makes, Sasuke follows with his eyes, as though on the edge. And Mikoto already cannot wait to chatter about it with her husband.

 

Both seemed oblivious to the mother’s ‘interpretations’.

 

Out of earshot, Naruto quails before finally opening a reluctant mouth. Sasuke plunders the fork’s tip into the salivating caverns. At once, the piece of meat piques her palate. Her brows shoot up and her lashes flutter shut, and while Naruko sinks in her chair, her soul ascends.

 

“You got good taste, I’ll give ya that.”

 

“I told you, didn’t I?” Sasuke smirks, leaning back. “So now that I’ve quite literally fed you and given you a lesson on common etiquette, I think now’s a good time.”

 

“A good time for what? You finally got somethin’ good to tell me?”

 

A beat of silence skips, and Naruko brims with suspense.

 

“Spill the beans, ‘Suke, what the hell is it?”

 

Sasuke shifts his gaze away, especially as she slows her chewing down.

 

“After tonight, you are packing all your things and moving in with me.”

 

She stops chewing altogether.

 

“It’s for the best, idiot. What if you revert back to your original self?”

 

A long silence drawls out. Until finally, Naruto sets the fork down.

 

“So just move in with you and your bro, you mean?” Another tense pause, as the cogs churn in her head. “I…can’t…you know? Your house is way out of town. That’s why I’m crashin’ at Sakura’s, alright? I just need some time to get a place of my own near school…near campus for training and I just can’t travel like—”

 

“I’m renting an apartment in the city, Naruto. It’ll be just me,” he cuts in, finally meeting her gaze. “And I need a roommate.”

 

“No you don’t,” she denies instantly.

 

“I want a roommate, there, better? I want you as my roommate.”

 

Sasuke regrets making eye contact because Naruto pulls of this stupid, mushy look.

 

“You wanna shack it up with me?”

 

Were there actual wet smudges and sparkles dashing her eyes? If that’s the case, Sasuke feels terribly embarrassed and runs a hand through his hair.

 

“Moron, what’s with you?”

 

“N-nothin’. I’ll move in with you—fine!”

 

She says it loud enough that has the whole ballroom’s attention.

 

At this point, Sasuke rubs his temple. “I planned this a while back, just so you’re aware. I knew your lease with that mutt was expiring last month, and I intended for you to have a decent roommate.”

 

“Such as yourself?” she says amused.

 

“Yes.”

 

Her hand smacks him over the shoulder, and she roars in laughter. “I always wondered ‘bout you, like when you’d move out. So how much is the rent?”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

A blonde brow quirks in confusion. “How much, you said?”

 

“I said don’t worry about it, dummy.”

 

“Well, I’m not movin’ anywhere unless you tell me.”

 

The threat’s laced with stubborn heat, as she huffs his nonchalance away.

 

“Six thousand and three hundred. But that’s a drop in the bucket for me.”

 

“A drop in the—are you kidding me?” When Sasuke shrugs, she nearly chokes. “Hell, the place I was rentin’ with Kiba was less half that!”

 

“I was looking for a two-bedroom with enough sunlight.”

 

Hearing the confession, Naruto stumbles for the right words. How could she cover her share? She wonders. But the thought’s heavy enough to have her sinking in her seat. Without a word, she wields the steely knife and stuffs her mouth. Although a cloud of somber realization crosses her as she swallows. She would need to get a job, that’s for starters. Not just any gig would do; it’d have to be a job that’d pay well.

 

As if hearing her thoughts, Sasuke cuts in, “Like I said, you don’t need to worry about the cost.”

 

“But I do. I’m not a bum that’s just gonna leech off, especially my own best friend. You know me…”

 

Retracting his arm from the back of her seat, Sasuke raises up. He looms over her fluffy blonde head for a moment, as if reconsidering.

 

“Whatever, deadlast. Let’s play your game—I doubt you can come up with half a month’s rent in two weeks. But if you insist, I’d like to see you try.”

 

The fact her brows scrunch up together, and her canines unsheathe, Sasuke couldn’t resist. The taunting blows and how easy it was to egg Naruto on.

 

“You can chew on that thought,” he continues, seeing her shoulders hunch. “I’ll be having a drink with my father. Don’t do or say anything stupid.”

 

“Tch. Now I might just consider it, bastard…”

 

But the spotlight dims, and Naruko loses all appetite. Sitting alone at a table, she’s on an island surrounded by well-dressed people, chitchatting with eloquent cadences. Sasuke’s mom chirping somewhere behind, and Mrs. Hyuuga laughing with a robust vigor…

 

And when she looks up, she finds Mr. Uchiha penetrating her with eyes of a hawk. It’s as if Fugaku can see right through her like an MRI machine. She feels naked.

 

Naruko gulps. Because the old man slings an unrelenting gaze over Sasuke’s shoulder, and she braces herself for the final boss of tonight’s quest. Get it together, Uzumaki. She balls both fists as Sasuke and his father head over her way.

Chapter 10: The Prophecy

Summary:

The formal party takes an unexpected turn, leaving Naruto and Sasuke second-guessing their current positions. Meanwhile, Jiraiya opens a discreet line of communication with his former godson, now turned goddaughter, and yet again: Sasuke and Naruto's friendship wanders in unexplored corridors.

Chapter Text

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Watching Sasuke get roped into a group conversation with his father, has Naruto impatiently tapping the table. Really, it's too bad Itachi left the party. Only a handful of people know her as Naruto, and Itachi would be great company. 

 

That's when the sight of red hair tears into her vision: of a woman slumped over the open bar by Buddha’s statue. Karin? Naruto pockets the imaginary binoculars. It’s no Itachi, but it's someone familiar, at least. 

 

Deciding to head over to the open bar, Naruto walks on marbles just to get there. Five-inch plus heels, big deal. How do you stop your knees from locking in? At one point, Naruto trips, and her hand reaches for the nearest support: a seated bald man’s head. Naruto smiles, trying to stand upright again. Soon, the bald man is history! Because as if this is a game of pretend, Naruto imagines this is some training exercise that Killer Bee-sensei set her up to. A game of balance. I'm the crane. The floor is lava, and if she falls, she will die. This infuses her with determination, an adrenaline, so at last, Naruko passes the fountain, wobbling over to the empty seat beside Karin.

 

Karin's dressed in high-waisted skirt suit, looking like the beautiful stewardesses you see in movies, with a scarf twirled around the neck. On the other hand, the bartender is a humble, quiet servant. He asks Naruko what she'd like.

 

In a suave maneuver, Naruko waves a hand, bracelet jingling. “I’d like to order what the pretty lady next to me’s havin’. ”

 

Karin raises her wavering eyes up.  “If it isn’t Sasuke’s fiancé,” a hairflip, to fortify a tough guy act. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“Just to talk.”

 

“You mean to rub it in my face.”

 

“No, no…I’ve been wonderin’ bout you. How you’re holdin’ up cause last time I saw ya, you weren’t smilin’ much. You said you go to Keio?”

 

Karin throws back her drink, and her eyes glass over. “Part-time, yes. I’m inheriting my father’s pharmaceutical company, and that’s where my focus is.”

 

The waiter slides over a drink on a coaster. Maker’s mark. Having no idea what that meant, Naruko raises the shot glass to her lips.

 

But the fumes from the whiskey force her to wrinkle a nose, and shoot a pitiful expression to the bartender who shrugged. This stuff probably tasted as gross as it smelled, and without shame, Naruko screws her eyes shut and forces the drink back. Although somewhere down the line, some toxic poison splashes the back of her nose or something. Flings her into a coughing storm, wrenching her chest, and hacking.

 

Thankfully, the jazz ensemble and the sound of the water fountain drowns her hectic noises out.

 

Karin chuckles lowly, chin planted atop a steady palm. “When’s your birthday, little girl?”

 

“Hey now!”

 

“Clearly you’re underage or just really inexperienced.”

 

Naruko coughs again, but this time, to gather her bearings. “Turning eighteen this October, you?”

 

“Is that possibly why,” she muses, mumbling into her hand. “Am I too old for him? No…that’s not it…”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Tell me, why you? Out of all the girls, why did he choose you? What is it you have…that I don’t.”

 

“What’re we talkin’ about again?”

 

“I could’ve been a better fake fiancé,” bemoans the red-head, slinging back another shot. “I’m independent, strong, and definitely not the clingy type like yourself.”

 

Naruko scratches her temple, in deep thought. First, just how old was Karin? Second, what’s so hot about being a fake fiancé, to Sasuke of all people? The guy’s an incredible stickler, and if you blew your nose around him, he’d make a face. In fact, we’re talking about the same guy who wears ear plugs to concerts and doesn’t own cable or watch TV. Not to mention, lying to everyone was a drag—to be a phony fiancé or girlfriend—was taxing and not all that fun. But before Naruko could open her mouth, Karin cuts in with a slicing demand.

 

“Another round for us, sir.”

 

The bartender salutes Karin and pours another intoxicating drink for two. Gulping, Naruko inwardly cringes at the thought of another bitter shot.

 

The crimson Fendi frames slide down Karin’s pert nose, a twinkle in her eye gleams.  “You won anyway, so just fess up.  Tell me how you seduced him.”

 

Seduced?

 

Naruto’s mind bustles like the Tokyo Stock exchange before closing time—and a film of images reel: Sasuke and Naruko, too close for comfort, kissing. Next thing she knows, she cups her mouth. A gagging noise slips past anyway. Was it the liquor? Naruko shivers as another nauseating wave sweeps. Naruto tries to picture Sakura just in her undergarments, to shove the thought of Sasuke out—and for a moment it works. But it’s like being conscious of blinking or breathing…

 

“Karin, it’s nothin’ personal. Believe me. Sasuke and I just have history, but it’s not what you’re thinkin’.”

 

Taken aback by Naruko’s swift change in demeanor, Karin straightens up in alarm.

 

“What history?”

 

“Me and Sasuke go way back. We’re reincarnated actually—and before you ask—I just found out like a couple days ago.”

 

Karin looks at the girl like she's an asylum patient that’s escaped. “Those whiskey shots hit you hard. You’re drunk. Go home!”

 

Throwing her head back, Naruko roars in laughter.

 

“And I was a man.”

 

For a moment, Karin considers the possibility but shakes her head.

 

“Definitely drunk,” she grumbles, whirling to face the other. “Humor me. What was it like being a man?”

 

“I…well…it was great…being a woman’s not bad. But…”

 

“But?”

 

Naruko’s elbow slips, and she slumps forward.

 

“It’s being both that’s causing me hell.”

 

Karin ponders the dilemma. Sometimes she too finds herself acting like a man, or trying to be one, thinking it would win the respect of her male colleagues. Except for wearing pantsuits, she cannot pull off the imitation. The men who work under her have to accept her as an emotional being with a vision--who is willing to be the resource they need as their manager. 

 

 “I can drink to that.”

 

After downing her last shot, Karin passes over a business card. Karin Nagini, CMO Serpentex Inc. It takes a minute to figure out what CMO might stand for, and Naruko seals her lips shut from asking the question.

 

“Let’s meet again soon because I won’t lie…I’m interested to learn your methods of seduction,” says Karin, pocketing her blazing red Ferragamo wallet.

 

 “What are you sayin’! I thought you knew—me and Sasuke—you said it yourself, I’m just a fake fiancé.”

 

“Friends, right. Do I look stupid to you? When I took a smoke break outside, guess who I saw stepping out from another man’s car? You little nymph. Decked in jewels no less, wearing a McQueen dress. Sure as hell didn’t look like it came from your duffel bag.”

 

Naruko stares wide-eyed, as if the movie playing before her freezes in a harsh standstill.

 

“Who was that man you were with, anyway? Didn’t look like Sasuke…how many lovers are you peddling?”

 

“None, I swear…I toldja—”

 

Karin raises a hand. “I’m simply curious to learn your ways.”

 

At this point, Naruko is a slurring and stuttering mess. World’s wobbling a bit, and the high-pitched feminine voice takes the flight of the bumble bee. Pitching up then down, chaotic, frantic—oh god, the misunderstanding tears apart from the inside and before things stop making sense, she tries to grab the levers of control, keep the plane from crashing:

 

“Karin, ya gotsta’ believe me, I was just comin’ out from practice. Right? Then this guy I met from before, just showed up outta nowhere too. Y’know? He helped me get here in time. I mean his step-sister hooked me up with the dress—that’s all it is. I thought it was too much, but I was already goin’ with the flow…’sides, I’m not one to turn down help or new friends!”

 

“I see. So that’s the card you play: the innocent and virgin façade.” Karin spares a few chuckles, before eyeing her with a gleam of curiosity. “It drives men insane enough to scoop you into a ten-thousand-dollar dress? I find that hard to believe, but okay.”

 

Naruko chokes. “What did you say? T-ten thousand dollars?”

 

“You’ll have to explain how you can get all these men worshipping you.”

 

When Karin kicks off the barstool, Naruko grabs a tight hold of her arm.

 

 “Wait! What should I do now?”

 

Such innocent puppy eyes beam up, and yet, the hues of blue darken with depth. Perhaps Naruko’s ‘innocent virgin’ façade is a genuine one. Though, that didn’t stop a smirk passing in Karin, and ripping her arm free from the surprisingly vice-grip, she says:

 

“Don’t tell me ‘a man’ such as yourself, has no idea? Come on!” Holding back a chortle, Karin shakes her head. “Then go ask your fiancé. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know you’ve made yourself obligated to another man by accepting his gifts of courtship.”

 

Turning red in the face, Naruto chokes the glass in her hands as if it's a man's throat. "Obligated! Me? To another man? In that way? Never.”

 

And while Karin's still around, Naruto plays cool. Yet the second Karin is out of sight, a damp sweat of panic sweeps. The plane finally crashes into the ocean, and she tumbles underneath the icy water. Upside down, all around, mind swishing. I was wearing the old tracksuit, nothing at all revealing. Still, how easy was it to forget, she’s a woman now. Sticky deal here. Through the lens of another, there was no mistaking Yahiko’s advances. I’m a piece of steak now. Stickier deal.

 

And when Naruto’s eyes glaze over, the bartender pours her some water and asks if she is alright.

 

"Why was I turned into a woman?"

 

The bartender smiles humbly, and suddenly looks thousands of years older.

 

"Will the answer change anything?"

 

Naruto refrains from thrashing about. Instead she slaps her own face, dragging it across, really putting the no-smudge lipstick to test. Talking to a higher being isn't easy. But on the off chance that some divine being was listening, Naruto plans to capitalize on the opportunity. 

 

"I just don't do well bein' in the dark. I need an answer. Give me a sign, just one. Or, on second thought, send me two or three in case I sneeze and miss the message."

 

When Naruto looks up again, the bartender appears youthful again. Is the booze making me hallucinate? She shakes her head like a wet dog trying to dry, ridding the doubt away.

 

...

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“We are taking it slow, father.”

 

Fugaku’s eyes harden. “You’d be a fool to waddle about and wait.” Lowering the drink, his father speaks from the gut. “Yes, she is crass and bad-mannered but there is no mistaking her quality features. She will challenge you to reach new heights, I can see that. Your mother also tells me you’re very taken with her, which cannot be said of…the others.”

 

“I’m not ready.”

 

Pretending not to hear, Fugaku continues, “She has a charm, we simply need to refine it like crude oil. A woman like this can be a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

 

Sasuke seals his lips. Or once every two hundred years…given that’s how long Itachi managed to date back his previous reincarnate.

 

“You will thank me for this.”

 

Before he can question, Fugaku raises his glass and bangs a spoon. Gong. Loud and seizing everyone’s attention, even the waiters and bartenders drift to a standstill.

 

“I wanted to take a moment to share some good news with you all,” says his father, still so serious and rocky in the face. “My son has recently proposed to this beautiful lady, a longtime friend of our family, and she said yes. We are planning an engagement party, which I hope you all can attend.”

 

A longtime friend?

 

Sasuke eyes his father as if looking at the man for the first time. Before he could consider questioning what his dad meant by ‘longtime friend’, if it was said for the sake of fluffing the announcement, or if his father knew—everyone clangs their glasses in a toast, and clapping roared.

 

Shifting back, Sasuke retreats from the stage: the theatrical act forces his face into a frown.

 

Especially as the sound of a chair strikes the ground—from Naruko bolting up so fast: she was the spitting image of the famous painting The Scream. Shortly after, whispery talk swallows the air of where and when the engagement party would be. And wobbling over to the open bar, Naruko hovers at the alcohol station…to recoup.

 


 

 

Meeting Sasuke’s old man, to put it lightly, ruffles all Naruto’s feathers. So when they stumble out of the whole damn place, into the cold sidewalk, under the night sky a sigh of relief escapes. Sasuke hails a cab, while holding her steady, gripping her by the forearm.

 

“Juss’so ya know when I signed up for this, I didn’t plan on writing my wedding vows this soon.”

 

“There is no wedding,” he repeats, for the third time.

 

“But your pops said somethin’ ‘bout rentin’ a royal castle in London,” she shrugs, “and damn, that’s not even my dream wedding.”

 

Sasuke freezes up. “You have a dream wedding?”

 

“I can picture it now,” she puts her hand out, as if spreading the image across the air, “the birds, and us standing on a bridge between two cliffs—one of those scary dangling bridges too—somethin’ intense.”

 

“That doesn’t sound half bad. I’ll tell my father about it.”

 

She laughs, although guarded. “I was wonderin’ though…what’s going on with your dad? He was nice, no, too nice. Like he saw me comin’ from thousands of years away. Man, you’da think he’d care more that I have no family, no money, that I’m a nobody—”

 

“Enough.”

 

“Why is he hell bent on marryin’ you? It’s suspicious as hell. He didn’t ask me anything. Not even like where I’m from or where I’m going in life.”

 

“Maybe that’s not important to know.”

 

“Or maybe he already knows,” jokes Naruto. “He’d be the type to hire a private investigator. Who knows what he’s got up his Armani suit sleeve, probably has a whole file on me.”

 

Sasuke clenches his teeth at the possibility. “He’s been trying to arrange a marriage for two years. Itachi says his health is getting worse,” is the rationalization, “and my father’s dream is to have grandchildren. My parents never lived to see it, not when they were—”



Here, the now, it was different. And Naruto stares at him, expectantly, glittering with perfect innocence.

 

“When they were…what?”

 

He wears the mask, hiding the deformities, the dark parts of him.

 

“It’s not worth it to talk about.”

 

Naruto sighs, as if she’d held that breath for minutes. “We should go find Itachi.” Then a lightbulb flickers in her head. She whips a finger onto him. “Oh and you oughta cough up any leads, if Itachi mentioned ‘em. Like I said, I was tryin’ my best to get here on time.”

 

A surge of darkness flares through because his voice drops an octave. “Then what took you so long then?”

 

“I wasn’t that late, c’mon.”

 

She scoffs like a trumpet. He can tell this is Naruto trying to deflate and disengage by playing off the problem as a miniscule obstacle.

 

“Ease up, will ya. If you really gotta know, I needed to freshen up after tryouts. There.”

 

“And the jewelry?”

 

Even as he soaks in the sight: of a blonde woman beside him, with messed up makeup and doll-like hair fluttering about, his breath hitches when she turns her shining blue rays his way. How the light in them billows like hot air undulating, flickering with a stubborn—challenging—heat. This is Naruto, he reminds himself, and yet the second her lips part, he loses the sense this was his best friend. Only for a moment.

 

“I’ll cut to the chase then.” She crosses her arms, defensively. “I met a guy.”

 

“You met a guy. Why do you say it like that?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like a high school soap opera, moron.”

 

The fact Naruko wipes her nose obnoxiously signals how he hit a severe tender spot.

 

“I’d say it’s a best-sellin’ thriller. And I just went with the flow, got into his car, and he showed me around his flat. His step-sister was weird, but really nice, and she let me wear this.”

 

He should be comfortable with this. Not care.  

 

And yet, he must be wearing a deep look of disgust because Naruto’s eyes widen with childlike surprise. Especially when his voice fires off like an icy arrow, asking:

 

“So who’s the guy you’re rendezvousing with?”

 

“His name’s Yahiko. That’s all I know.”

 

Ridiculous. But when Naruto buttons up in silence, how much of this really was a joke? The fact that Naruto isn’t peeping one word…

 

And the second they get into their cab, he really smells the alcohol on Naruto. The ride zips down along the road and he believes for a second, he’d be simmering in his own juices, brooding all the way home in silence: how Naruto gives the benefit of doubt to random strangers, why, and what the moron’s thinking—can he really be such a dope, naïve idiot?

 

Until at some point during the trip, she actually wails loud—and he thinks she’s gone off the deep end—turning insane.

 

“Naruto?”

 

She wails again like someone’s stabbing her and the whole car turns into a screeching cavern.

 

“He doesn’t want to be my pal, right? But how can I tell? Am I gonna be suspicious of every dude I shoot the bull with? At first, I thought I made a good friend—”

 

His brow twitches, patience wearing thin. And she senses it too because the sentence trails off and makes a sharp detour.

 

“—but it’s just Kiba in another form. That’s what you’re saying.”

 

“I didn’t say anything,” he denies.

 

“But you did. You said it. All I need is one look from you.”

 

After a long pause, her distress explodes like an emergency flare. A smirk spreads his lips. It’s sudden. He corrects the reflex, hiding the excitement with another steely, appraising look.

 

“Can you drop me off at Yahiko’s,” Naruto finally says, eyes bleeding with regret. “I’m gonna return all this.”

 

“Right now?”

 

“If I keep this, then you what that means Sasuke! I need to go right now!”

 

“I’d think otherwise if a woman showed up ten in the evening to my house, alcohol on her breath, wanting to take off all her clothes to ‘return’ them to me.”

 

“You’re right.”

 

“So how about this,” he proposes, after rolling up his sleeve to check his watch. “I go to Yahiko’s later this week. And I will return it for you.”

 

Finally hitting their destination, the driver turns on them with glee, very pleased with the tip Sasuke sent his way. As they step out, Naruto trains focus onto the ground, something weighing her down or she tries to focus on balancing the wobble from the heels. Either way Sasuke steels up, already annoyed at himself for obsessively checking on her. He gives her the side eye to the point the muscle around his left eye cramps up.

 

I promised Itachi, is all.

 

The doorman greets them both, enchanted by the couple.

 

“Good evening Mr. Uchiha, and this must be your beautiful fiancé your father mentioned.”

 

Naruto clenches up. Killer-Bee’s anger management training steps in as she starts spitting out raps:

 

“Listen man, the name’s Naruko yo!

You know this is fo’ sho!

I’m more than just some broad,

So you betta’ get this, ‘cos

You’re about to be awed!”

 

When Naruto bends her knee, lifting it up into a dangerous crane, the doorman caves in. He thinks he’s about to be karate chopped by a razzled and bedazzled lady—and he might be right. Either way Sasuke wouldn’t take a chance.

 

“I apologize Miss Naruko,” he bows profusely. “I didn’t mean to offend! Let me call the elevators for you.”

 

She cancels whatever technique she’s on the verge of unleashing, and instead, she fist bumps the doorman.

 

“Hah, we’re cool, Joseph!

I was just messin’ around,

but don’t fool yo’self,

Nothin’s what it seems,

N’ I’m warnin ya, I got big dreams.”

 

 “My name’s not Joseph,” corrects the doorman, with a confused, torn look.

 

Only for Sasuke to push the rap wannabe into the elevator, pressing for the eleventh floor. He turns to see the most drugged smile plastered on Naruto. His gaze lingers at the nervous bob in her throat. Soon enough, each tap of her heel plays like a suspenseful drum beat echoing throughout the corridor they step out into.

 

That’s when Naruto trips. Moving with two left feet, or practicing art of the crane whilst drunker than an Irishman in a whiskey factory was no easy task.

 

Everyone on the eleventh floor hears a roaring, “Shit—”

 

Only for Sasuke to catch her by the wrist.

 

 “—take. Shitake mushrooms because nice catch! You’re not rusty at…all.”

 

Sasuke nods absentmindedly. Not letting her hand go right away, riveted to how dainty the bones are, that he could crush them with a penny's force—the shape’s so different, so off, and it's Naruto’s now.



For now, he mentally corrects. 

 

He turns the key to their apartment, and he ought to be calm, cool, and collected. Like this is a casual act—he knows this—but his body betrays him. He can feel his fingers twitch with electric excitement, and his shoulders stiffen when she leans on him, how perfectly they align, so perfectly alarming. And to top it off, she throws a reckless arm around his neck, hugging them close, and in his ear, whispering:

 

“Hey, the booze's messin’ with me.” Some of her hot breath rolls against the bare of his neck, and he wants to shove her off. “Can’t feel my legs, and I might need to get my feet amputated.”

 

“We’ll have to get them checked out.”

 

“Okay, hurry, S’uke.”

 

And Sasuke swings the door open before her lips could collide onto the shell of his ear. Very close call. Adrenaline pumps through without permission—and it’s not like he dodged a car crash—but it sure felt like it.

 

Oblivious to his reactions, Naruto stumbles about the apartment like a shipwrecked sailor, unsure of this new island. Sasuke would never admit holding his breath, gauging her every move. Her reaction. Until finally Naruto sees the L-shaped, velvet divan. In a yellow flash, she’s a professional diver, leaping onto the plush fabric. She snuggles the couch pillow, marking it with her atrocious, perfumed scent and lipstick smudging on the couch pillows…

 

“Hey…Sasuke….” comes the muffled voice.

 

“What is it, dummy?”

 

“I really can’t feel my feet. Pins and needles, the whole deal.”

 

“I’ll help get them off you, just this once.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

In a curious sense, he plays along with the game. Fascinated, would be the understatement, the way he watches her cheeks blazon up. She seems feverish. Must be the alcohol, he wonders. Sasuke scoops her up, one leg at a time. Unfastening the clasps of the shoe, he tastes the tension as if drinking a striking cup of hot coffee, and it wakes him the hell up. Sasuke looks up to see her clavicles jut out, her neck arching back, until finally she buries her head into an elbow.

 

As he removes the stilettos, her toes wiggle, and she panics.

 

“I think it’s broken.”

 

“That can’t be.” Determined, Sasuke now sits beside, putting her feet into his lap. “Everything seems in place. Does it hurt when I do this?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“What about this?”

 

Ah, ah! Oi, be gentle, you bastard!”

 

Her voice shoots up so high it goes out like a light at the last note.

 

“How about this?”

 

Sasuke runs a hand behind her ankle, and scouts for any critical knots. Or the karma curse mark, that’d be a bonus. And in one fell swoop, he hitches up her dress just past the knees, revealing an expanse of smooth, sun kissed flesh. Pressing two fingers, he strums her leg like it’s an instrument—because moans of pain tear from her pipes, here and there. Especially when he homes in on the taut muscle below her knee, and she throws her head back with such a scream that has his blood-curling.

 

“What the hell was that,” you can hear the scratches in her throat. “Is my leg busted or somethin’?

 

Inspection’s over, the karma mark must be elsewhere, and he pulls down the dress. “You’re overreacting, as usual. It’s just muscle strain, you’ll be fine.”

 

“No way, you’re shittin’ me. If muscle strain’s supposed to be an elephant squashin’ my leg, then no.  Unless it’s this body, everything’s so sensitive.”

 

Thankfully he didn’t have to remove her feet off him because she spazzes out and somersaults off the couch. Like a novice ice skater, Naruto ends up spinning in a pitiful circle. For a second he wonders maybe Kaguya or the karma seal is about to manifest—especially when she whirls around talking to herself, grabbing at her hair. Only for him to realize that this is Naruto trying to make sense of something.

 

“You might want to use a lifeline and phone a friend, dummy.”

 

Naruto skids to a stop. The pig-tails come entirely loose, and she wipes the wild hair fluttering over her eyes.

 

“Maybe this is a bad idea. Us living together, I mean. First, Sakura’s gonna say somethin’! I mean Joseph downstairs already thinks we’re getting hot’n’heavy up here. I’m a chick now! If this was the old me, then it’d be different.”

 

“The old you…” he drawls.

 

“Yes, the old me, or did you forget?”

 

A torrent rushes through and as much as Sasuke wills to look away…the dam gates break—cold exteriors shatter—pieces of patience he can’t put back together…because old skips across generations, centuries even. And with anyone else, he swears, he could speak from a thousand feet above the ground. But with Naruto, he can’t put the distance. In fact, even in this new form, Naruto manages to slash so close.

 

Literally so, because Naruto flops back on the divan, causing it to shake for a moment. She crawls forward on her knees, wearing the stupidest expression. Sasuke swallows when her nose practically bumps against his shoulder. For one wrong ditsy move, in her drunken state, and she'll fall right on top of him. 



So Sasuke surrenders and coughs up the confession she's pawing for.

 

“I would like nothing more than to forget,” he says, “since you managed to do it so well.”

 

“Is this about the dreams?”

 

“Dreams—no. I’m reliving memories that no one else can recall. Once again…”

 

Naruto wags both eyebrows, daring him to continue.

 

“...I walk alone.”

 

“And you call me an idiot? Tch, this is gold, now it's you who's not 'seeing it'. C’mon, Sasuke!” Naruto pummels a fist into his side. “If I really was reborn, why now…and with you?”

 

All Sasuke notices is just how she shakes him up, jostling him. He’s a neglected snow globe on the shelf—and she rattles him so much, he swears the world brightens from it. Vision sprinkling with such attention, he can see better, drives him wide awake with how all other moments could be so dull compared to this.

 

“I suppose I’ll never know because I’ve decided to drop the journals, and—” and he needs to grate out the words, because of her sunny grin, “I don’t care to see the rest of the past.”

 

“But your loyal readers are gonna flip! With you leaving it at such an asshole cliffhanger, I’m gonna hafta try to remember and be the one to finish our awesome story…since you won’t.”

 

He soaks in her every move, to see if she’s joking or if this was another prank.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you’re my best friend. That’s it. And if by some chance, ya know, we land in the looney bin or actually save the world, I'm happy."

 

Scoffing, he turns away. Because her answer is water spilling over the corners of his parched mouth…it’s not enough to satisfy a deeper thirst. He swallows again: the emptiness, the void, in which he roams—what feels an eternity—trapped in the barren desert without a clue why.  So when she threads an arm behind him, yanking him into another ‘team huddle’, he lets himself immerse in the distraction.

 

“So back ta my point earlier. If we’re really reborn together, don’tcha think that means we have unfinished business to take care of?” Her voice drops like they’re being watched. “This Kaguya we’re dealin’ with, is no joke. I did some research…y’know the legend your bro always talks about?”

 

Her lips hover by his ear, and all his hackles rise, the warmth of her breath like a gun to his temple.

 

Holds his entire body hostage.

 

And when his muscles almost quiver under the tension, he snaps. Sasuke seizes her by the exposed bicep, to twist Naruto off. Meaning to overthrow her, to nullify whatever power she was exerting over him.  But instead, he just freezes when a devious look flashes across her expression.

 

“Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” she says, tilting her head low.

 

That Naruto's a touchy-feely drunk, who has no sense of personal space? Sasuke reaches up to steady her by the shoulders...to prevent her from falling onto him, in her drunken swaying.

 

“That we’re the heroes of that legend,” lulls Naruto with a point of pride. 

 

“Moron…you don’t actually…”

 

“You think I want to believe it’s true? Because if it is, that means we did a sloppy job! This is awful. Humiliating in fact! What if our past selves couldn’t defeat her? And we just ended up sealin’ her in the moon only for her to wreck damage down the line? That’s worse than a half-baked pizza, and hence,” Naruto says it crisp, so proud to sling in a fancy word, “that’s why we’re here! We gotta put an end to her, and take back my manhood!”

 

“You came up with this theory yourself?”

 

“Gimme some credit, I’ve been thinkin’ and a lot is at stake.”

 

“What else did my brother tell you?”

 

“Somethin’ about a prophecy. Spooky stuff, really.”

 

He must be oozing with fascination because Naruto gets giddy and tight-lipped.

 

“Naruto? Tell me what he said exactly.”

 

She tries to suppress the laughs with a bony wrist…to no avail.

 

“Oh? You seem almost turned on there,” Naruto chokes. “Anywho, the prophecy is in this book called Sailor Moon. Ya see? I was turned into a chick, so I can fully harness the powers of the moon. That’s how I’m gonna defeat Kaguya.”

 

That’s when she roars in laughter slapping the cushions.

 

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it, shit, you looked so into it—alright, fine.” Naruto tries to sober up (to no avail), and rubs both eyes raw. “Truth is, if there’s a prophecy, then I don’t wanna know. Okay? I write my own destiny. So, anyone who thinks they got me figured out, they’re in for a surprise.”

 

 She must be immune to his chilling look because she coughs on a bubbling excitement.

 

“Oi, so I think it’s time I get freshened up. Was thinkin’ of runnin’ a bath, Sakura said I should try it. So if ya don’t mind, I know the water will cost more but…”

 

Sasuke raises off the divan, and he’s a whole head taller.

 

“Go.”

 

“Ah, is this Sasuke-quiet-time?”

 

“If it is, then I should kiss it goodbye with you around.”

 

The thing is, even though he sees Naruto in her eyes, it’s not enough to anchor him all the time. Every muscle of his stands on guard, and he’s hyperaware of every little quirk in her lips, and her voice—it’s not the same. When she pants and her pupils dilate, Sasuke interprets it as her about to charge at him and pin him to the wall. He braces himself, only for her to wipe her nose.

 

Naruto raises the thumb and index finger into the shape of a gun. “I’m blowing up that bathroom, so you might wanna steer clear of it next coupla hours. You shoulda lived with me before you proposed, that’s what they all say. Guess you’re just gonna have to deal.”

 

The rush of happiness in her eyes, too, makes him sick to his stomach. His gut churns when Naruto darts a sappy look meant to poison, until she bursts out laughing, twirling away.

 

Sasuke withholds the fact there are two bathrooms. 

 


 

 

They don’t intersect paths much for the rest of the night.

 

He barely sleeps, Naruto has no idea. Third night in a row actually where he’s in and out for three hours. But now, to hear her snoring from across the hall, he wonders: where does Naruto go at night? 

 

By magnetism, Sasuke stalks into Naruto’s room. He stations at the foot of the bed, watching over her, and he sees nothing suspicious.

 

In fact, he’s jealous at how she sprawls, a visible snot bubble popping.

 

“Ra…men….ex…tra…” her voice is deep with sleep, “pork…puh…lease…”

 

So that’s where his friend goes?

 

Almost pitch black in the room, except for how Naruto’s cellphone flashing with text messages.

 

Without shame, Sasuke scoops the phone and skims over the entire inbox. Looks like Naruko’s phone is clean except for a chat history with Itachi and what appears to be Jiraiya, writing: we need to meet tomorrow but come alone, and, it’s about the prophecy. Sasuke looks back at his friend’s vulnerable form, saliva dribbling out of the corner of her chapped mouth.

 

“So there is a prophecy,” he accuses her.

 

A nasty, loud snore seizes her breath. Yet instead of rousing, she flips over. Sasuke sets the phone aside, and simmers with distrust.

 

 


 

 

“Good morning, sergeant scowls! You rock the dark-circles look,” she gives him a thumbs-up, first thing in the morning. “So handsome!”

 

While she salutes him, Sasuke rounds the corner, not paying her a glance. He slides into a seat at the kitchen table, dressed in his typical school uniform, laptop bag ready to go. He finds some peace even in the chaos that is Naruko rummaging in all the cupboards. She slams one pantry shut.  

 

“This is bullshit, Sasuke. Where are you hiding all the food?”

 

“Need to do grocery shopping, still.”

 

Naruto swings into the seat, head of the table. “Right, I guess coffee for breakfast. No wonder you’re always high-strung.”

 

He quirks an eyebrow, impressed that she brewed a whole pot of coffee for them.

 

“Oh yeah, look at that, your new roommate being useful—who’da thought?” Naruto screws up close, head propped up on elbows, and all. “So apparently you like to read the paper, ‘cos someone left this at the door. Well I heard a rustle and some commotion, thought we might be getting robbed, and it woke me up.”

 

He can picture Naruto caught off guard. Ruffled up like some guard dog, barking at the paper boy in distrust…

 

“That’s the Tokyo Times,” he says. “Courtesy of my father. Hopefully you didn’t scare the paper boy away.”

 

Naruto grins, elbows clumsily slipping.  “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s comin’ back. But I couldn’t help but look through it for a job, actually."

 

Now, Sasuke seizes the newspaper in a lightning flash and skims over the highlighted parts. Naruto holds an eager breath.

 

“Let’s see here, you circled postings for a truck driver, I see.” A nasty pulse thrums in his temples. “And down here, an electrician, and a job in…construction…which was circled five times and has a star next to it.” Sasuke buries a hand in his hair, wishing this to be a joke. “Are you being serious with me?”

 

Her blue eyes glitter with such hope and enthusiasm.

 

“More than ever! Hell, the construction job has good pay and is very flexible,” she reasons. “Besides, I want something that’s gonna get my blood pumpin’!”

 

Sasuke grimaces at the thought of a jackhammer in her dainty hands. When he asks her why, she raises her mug of coffee and her other hand hovers over her heart.

 

“Because, I’m gonna earn my place here. Just watch,” she takes a chug of that lukewarm coffee. “Huh, ya sure swallowed your mug down in a breath. Lemme take care of it ‘cos until I find me a job, I’m gonna clean the dishes—at least!”

 

In fact, she shimmies over to the sink, wearing one of Sakura’s vintage dresses, nostalgic of the 60’s. And suddenly Naruto looks like your trophy housewife, scrubbing away at mugs. Drawn to the scene, Sasuke pulls over to inspect these so called ‘washed’ cups...only for several stains to meet the eye. Can she not see the dark spots? Clearly not, because she proudly sets them face down on the counter. Without a towel or anything, and water pools over immediately dripping to the floor. He inwardly cringes. Especially as Naruto wears such a smug, content look that says “I’m awesome, aren’t I?”.

 

“Also, I was thinkin’ of cookin’ us something to eat later. It’s the least I can do.”

 

“You don’t cook. Please,” and he never says please, “stay away from the oven.”

 

Naruto blinks, and somehow her lids magically pull up: revealing doe eyes, sparkles dashing her irises. Is this what Itachi was referring to? Odd behaviors such as cooking and cleaning? Was this really Naruto?

 

“Just tell me what you’d want for dinner, asshole, I’m trying to be nice.”

 

“So you could be on your way burning down the first place we have? I’ll pass.”

 

“Well sorry if I’m tryna be helpful! You gave me a place to stay, and all, I just wanna be grateful for it.”

 

“It’s a rule, I said no, Naruto.”

 

There it is. Her lips furl out, and she wipes her nose. “Rules, huh?” A heated, rebellious scoff. “You never mentioned ‘em last night.”

 

“Besides, I’m saving you the embarrassment of failure, deadlast. And I’m going to be one to clean your mess up as usual.”

 

In fact, Naruko crosses both arms over a busty chest.

 

“You know this is just makin’ me wanna do it more. Just to prove you wrong, Uchiha.”

 

His lips twist into a grimace. Why won’t Naruto just tell him about Jiraiya? Sasuke rides another stiff beat of silence, waiting for his friend to make the big reveal: an ancient prophecy that might have answers to defeating Kaguya. Or at the very least, mention it. And yet, with each passing second of their staring contest and no word of it all—he knows this to be a lost cause.

 

“I’ve got to get to class,” he says coldly. “Do you need a ride?”

 

At his bitter tone, she lets out a puff of surprise.

 

“Nope, us poor folk like the bus.”

 

“Here’s money for groceries,” he counts at least six twenties, and passes it to her. “I’ve got a late run today. Won’t be home until seven.”

 

“That’s too bad, you’re one crazy bastard cramming all your classes into two days. But, hey, I’ll take care of groceries.”

 

Before Sasuke can interject, Naruto’s pride and ego swells beyond redemption.

 

“Hey, hey. You’re talking to Uzumaki, Naruto—I’m a man of my word—believe me when I say I got this!”

 

Chapter 11: Uncle Madara

Chapter Text

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“Who was I kiddin’? I don’t got this.”

 

Naruto grips an empty shopping basket—standing in the sea that is the supermarket. Because in a convenience store, one could dump all the instant noodles and milk in one fell swoop. Here, though, she’s lost. Where to go? So many aisles pointing in different directions. What to get? Eggs, butter, and bread. Then, why did Sasuke give her over a hundred dollars? That must mean there’s more to the list than five items.

 

Pressure builds with each passing second. In fact, she must be standing like a broken post blocking traffic since shoppers threaten to run her over with their carts. Not unlike road rage.

 

“C’mon Uzumaki, it can’t be hard.”

 

Another crazed Tokyo shopper bumps their cart into Naruto.

 

“Naruko?”

 

Looking up to find…

 

“Sakura-chan?”

 

“You too! I can’t believe it!”

 

Like a little girl finding her favorite toy, Sakura lights up, leaping over with such unbridled enthusiasm that Naruko pinches herself to see if it’s a dream.

 

“Grocery shopping in between classes is so stress-relieving,” says Sakura.

 

“This relieves stress?”

 

“Well, I like to think of shopping as a mission. A scavenger hunt, actually. It’s up to you to bring home the freshest and tastiest goods.”

 

The words mission and hunt rivet Naruto close.  “I do love completing missions. Where do we start?”

 

Something magical happens. Sakura weaves an arm around hers, hooking their arms into a chain-link. And in both their free hands, a shopping basket dangles, but Naruto can’t focus on anything but their hips colliding. The briefest of physical connection, where their sides touch; and Naruto spaces out, a dopey grin smearing across her face. She’s holding me, she must like me

 

“—definitely, how I feel. You just take your time and go down each aisle sometimes. Hey, do you need anything from here?”

 

Naruto nods, fixing on her open smile.  And I haven’t been hit yet, what a good sign. Although that’s enough to tug the ribbon loose, opening the surprise question: could I get used to Naruko?

 

Meanwhile, Sakura blinks. Perhaps Naruko is struggling to find the right words; after all, the girl’s foreign from Los Angeles—and Japanese may not be a strong suit.

 

“You need kitchen cutlery?” prompts Sakura. “Or…”

 

“I’ll grab this Shuriken, why not.”

 

Naruko points to the star-shaped cookie cutters.

 

To which Sakura falters. “That’d come in handy for baking.” She even smacks the blonde, in sudden realization. “Brilliant, Naruko! I think you gave me an idea for a fundraiser.”

 

I’m brilliant? Naruto blushes from the compliment. She thinks I’m a model and I’m smart. Thus, strolling along as if this was a museum for ancient artifacts, Naruko picks up a soup ladle. Inspecting it so thoroughly, running fingers up its sheath…much to Sakura’s wonder.

 

 “This is an interesting weapon,” murmurs Naruko. “How do I slay food with this one?”

 

“You use it to serve your guest's soup. Obviously.”

 

“Oh, guests!” stay brilliant, Uzumaki. “Right, right. I just never had guests before. I could use it, is what I’m sayin’.”

 

“So then invite me over sometime,” teases Sakura, winking even. “I’ll bring over my famous savory pancakes. Oh! Congratulations on finding a new roommate this quick, by the way! Maybe I know them?”

 

Well, shit, that’s an awkward avenue. Whistling innocence, Naruko keeps her gaze fastened away from the emerald lie detectors, and simply shrugs. Thankfully, Sakura whips with excitement over another revelation.

 

“You saw the bulletins today, right?”

 

“Nah. I’m skippin’ classes.”

 

Which is why Naruto turned down Sasuke’s ride. But I’m not gonna tell ‘em that.

 

“The judge’s results came out. You got a B rank! You’re in!"

 

Naruko’s face falls.

 

“A...B-rank?”

 

Just where you belong, dead last. The sound of Sasuke mocking rings through.

 

 "You should know that’s the highest Tsunade-sensei has given a newcomer,” assures Sakura. “She doesn’t believe in perfect scores."

 

In a fury, a jolt runs down her leg and Naruko slams her foot against a nearby unsuspecting bunch of tomato sauce cans. Sakura turns with eyes widening, especially when the blonde shakes her head back and forth.

 

“Is something the matter?”

 

“Yeah, I just realized, there’s a voice in my head that sounds a lot like my roommate. And he’s pissing me off.”

 

Sakura does a double take. A he? Biting her lip, she saves the question for another time.

 

"Anyway, you shouldn’t cut class anymore, Naruko. My advice as a second year is: you want to save up absent days for when you need it. Missing three classes can result in a fail, and well, Tsunade kicks out her students with bad grades."

 

"Fu—" Naruko catches herself, after all, a lady was present. "Fu...hreal? ‘Cos there’s this class, ya know, I already feel like I’m in a tombstone and my grade for it is miles under. It’s earth science with Sabaku."

 

"You’re not the only one. It’s a hard class but I know someone who tutors for all subjects, pretty much. He’s a whiz kid. But he only takes by referral."

 

"Sakura, can’tcha tutor me?"

 

"Ah, I’m not really good at teaching.” She blushes, as they turn into their last aisle. “Besides, this guy, Shikamaru. If he likes you enough, he’d help do your assignments. I have a mutual friend that can connect you."

 

"This Shikamaru fella would do my homework?"

 

"My friend Ino got him to assist with all her assignments.”

 

If homework’s taken care of, then Naruto could focus one hundred percent on training for tournaments!

 

“Freakin’ yes, count me in!”

 

When they checkout at the line, the cashier fills up two full brown paper bags. Naruto offers to carry Sakura’s but she declines with a polite ‘no thanks’. They pay and leave. Naruto ends up using only five of the eight twenties Sasuke gave, which still is a pretty penny.

 

The second they waltz down the path for the exit, Naruko jolts to a halt. Sakura glances at her with bewilderment.

 

“Hold on.”

 

Because in the horizon of bright light, Naruto finds a black silhouette, so black, that a purple haze radiates from it. Right past the doors too, in front of the store. The potential threat has Naruto swatting Sakura back, and goosebumps running all over.

 

“What’s going on, Naruko?”

 

Sakura stops dead cold as if Naruko’s arm is a turnstile that was jammed and wasn’t letting up.

 

“Something’s not right,” panic crawls. “Don’t move, stay here.”

 

Sakura means to ask what’s the big deal, except when she looks up—Naruko’s right eye turns glassy. It’s missing a pupil. The sclera blackens, while the iris glows an icy blue.

 

“Naruko, your eye!” was it infected, or diseased, “What’s with it?”

 

At this point, Naruko charges forth, leaving Sakura behind.

 

By the time Naruto skids onto the scene, a crowd’s already starting to form. Too much chaos buzzes in the parking lot. Scents of gasoline and rubber tires bombard her nose; meanwhile, two cars engage in honk-warfare over a parking spot.

 

And yet, almost instantly, Naruko’s eyes lock on the target.

 

That is, waves of dark despair emanate…from the hooded man wrangling a young’un up into the air. And there’s no mistaking the malicious intent spiking out—her breath catches. How can someone emit such an aura? When Naruko looks around, she finds no one else noticing it. Am I hallucinating?

 

“Please let me go,” begs the boy, trying to kick free. “I won’t bother you again!”

 

“You’re protecting it aren’t you.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re saying!”

 

Before the hooded man can further choke the innocent, Naruto barks.

 

“Hey you! Yeah—you! Let ‘em go and pick on someone your own size!”

 

Of course, when nothing changes, Naruko digs for the cookie-cutters and ladle. In a flash, two metallic stars wedge between slender fingers—and with an assassin’s precision—she flings the cookie cutters like shuriken. Badum, bum! In rapid-fire, the two hit the cloaked man on the temple. And then like a Viking roaring, Naruto charges forth with the ladle.

 

“I said gett’offa’him, he’s just a kid!”

 

Lucky for the victim, Naruto’s rallying cry was enough for the hooded figure to stumble back.

 

“You’ve the jougan now.”

 

Naruko freezes midswing. With cars blasting their horns, and her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she could scarcely make out the words.

 

“Excuse me? You needa’ get the marbles out your mouth. And my name’s not Schuman.” Was this is how poor Joseph must’ve felt? “It’s Uzumaki.”

 

“I have to report this to the others,” says the man, whose eyes glint under the hood.

 

Before Naruto can get another word—the man takes off! And hating to lose, Naruto lets out a ferocious roar and swings the ladles like a boomerang. It misses, though. Because the cloaked man rounds the corner, and soon the crowd disperses as though nothing happened.

 

The boy she rescued, dusts himself off. A bit pretentious. The kid, tilts a chin up that says I’m a tough nut.

 

“Listen, lady. I was taking care of it. So next time, let us boys handle it.”

 

Is this kid for real?

 

Naruto blinks. “I guess next time I’ll wait for the waterworks to really start goin’.”

 

“I’m not crying!” whips the boy, sore as hell. “I’m Konohamaru Sarutobi—you know that?!”

 

 “Oh wow! Serious? A name that makes my brain hurt, that should do it.” Stepping closer, enjoying how for once she’s taller, Naruko asks. “So who was that man? And why’d you get into that fight?”

 

Scooping up his bag, Konohamaru scowls. “Some creep, I don’t know. He was blocking the exit, being a real nuisance.” He fixes his school uniform’s tie. “I was trying to leave the store, but he was watching someone with his binoculars. And when I told him to step aside and leave whoever he’s stalkin’ alone, he just…attacked.”

 

“You did good, kid. You stood up to the jerk. He oughta be thrown in jail!”

 

Blushing, Konohamaru finally sizes up the other. “Hey, it’s not every day I get to see a pretty woman play ninja with cookie-cutters. That was really cool.” His eyes fall along her figure, but then it rests on the soup ladle dangling loose in her paws. “Listen, I hate to admit a girl saved me but…if there’s anything I can do to repay the favor, here’s my number.”

 

So high schoolers these days own business cards? Hoity-toity, show-off, Naruto wants to grumble. Yet, she can’t help but be proud of the kid. Good for him.

 

“Well, uh, actually. If ya ever hear someone lookin’ to hire someone for a job, I kinda need one.”

 

A very coy smirk spreads Konohamaru’s mouth. “I’ll put in a word with my gramps,” before waving goodbye, that is.

 

At this point, Sakura rushes onto the scene.

 

 “Naruko, are you okay?”

 

When Naruko turns her way, she’s relieved to see blue eyes flashing back to normal.

 

“I’m fine. But I think you got a stalker, Sakura-chan.” Naruko grins wide, flashing a thumbs-up. “Heh, don’t worry though, I sure showed ‘em. Good thing I was here to protect you.”

 

“It wasn’t Lee, was it?”

 

“I didn’t say the guy was an eyesore, Sakura-chan,” scoffs Naruko. “Just that the guy had a dark aura. Big difference.”

 

Sakura seals her lips, not wanting to admit she might have hallucinated. How Naruko’s right eye turned into glass with a blackening backdrop…instead, Sakura rubs her own eyes.

 

“I think we should get back to campus. We can put the groceries in the student lounge. I’ll drive. You can tell me about your new roommate, or we can plan events for the girls,” oh how Sakura’s getting herself pumped. “Shaanaro! We’re going to have a blast at school!”

 

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Naruko Uzumaki, please report to your advisor's office immediately!”

 

Tch. What a blast, alright.

 

Someone said college meant freedom: chew gum whenever, go to the bathroom without stupid permission, and play the slots on your phone. And yet, Naruko scoffs when for the third time the loudspeakers roar with demands. Just like the high school days.

 

Moments like this, meant retreating to the rooftops.

 

Breathing in the concrete, letting the wind uplift, forgetting about classes—Naruto stands atop of Keio’s Sciences Building.

 

Although one scrape on the back of the arm reminds how soft this new flesh is. All she did: was lean on the brick wall, with both arms behind her head, and the coarse surface chafes some skin. Bloody scrape and all.

 

Another announcement roars, and Naruto thinks the loudspeakers might unhinge and fall.

 

Uzumaki, Naruko please report to Dr. Hatake’s office immediately. Room 1015 North.”

 

Gazing up at the blue sky, she almost falls asleep. Until the door opens, that is.  

 

Naruto cracks one eye open to see Hinata tiptoeing out. “Oi, if Kakashi sent you…tell ‘em I’m gone for the day.”

 

Hinata clutches her books tighter, as if it’s some protective shield.

 

“I’m here because we need to talk.”

 

To hear those words has Naruto rousing wide awake. And Hinata steps forward, but only three measly steps, aware of the bomb she’s about to drop.

 

“So how much was the sex change?”

 

The bomb turns out to be nuclear. And there’s no shelter, nowhere to duck—and Naruto considers jumping off the roof for a second.

 

“Huh?"  is what’s managed instead.

 

“I’m not fooled by the disguise. Not anymore. And I want to know what’s going on.”

 

The reality is: there’s not even a second to process. Naruto feels all marbles spilling in crazy directions. Tell her the truth? Make up another ludicrous lie? But what story then? And to thwart her perceptions, Naruto would need to come up with something clever and, just, fuck it!

 

“It’s not what you think,” it’s a hot ramble, and everyone knows it, “I just woke up one morning like this and—listen—you wouldn’t understand. No one’s gonna believe me!”

 

Naruto, I don’t care what everyone else will think.”

 

To hear her say the real name, forces all hackles to rise.

 

“The truth is, I don’t know. The holy mafia is on it, y’know the one Jiraiya is in?” The lost expression flashing across, has Naruto grasping at the straws . “Course you wouldn’t, I never mentioned it before…it’s supposed to be a secret. Someone or something put a spell on me…and Sasuke is trying to help me revert back and—”

 

“I knew Sasuke was in on it. He always is.”

 

At this, Naruto stumbles towards her.  “You believe me, Hinata-chan?”

 

“’I’m not sure what to believe, but I know it’s you, Naruto.”

 

The shrill, giddy voice of Naruko tears the air. And yet, somehow Hinata recognizes this…as Naruto.

 

“What gave it away? I mean, I obviously don’t sound the same.”

 

Hinata slumps forward with a defeated smile, like she’s been fighting a long battle with herself, for nights.

 

“You do. You do sound the same. Same way of buttoning your sentences, the way you addressed me, the way you smile at me—and when we fought—I saw your birthmark right here,” she points to the small, but distinct freckle just under Naruto’s right collar bone. “And when I did my research, I couldn’t find any Naruko Uzumaki. I know there’s no cousin, either. You don’t have any living family.”

 

In a brash move, Naruto leans closer to her.

 

“What now, you gonna rat me out to the others?”

 

“No!”

 

“So why do you care?”

 

Hinata flushes a deep crimson, neck to ears, and blurts out.

 

“I just thought y-you,” her tough guy act crumbles like a sweet cookie, “you left me but y-you’re…here…and…”

 

“And? You got somethin’ you wanna say to me?”

 

In fact, she’s a leaf wavering in the Naruto’s intense winds.

 

 “I…no.”

 

“Fine, if ya say so. Tell Kakashi if he wants me, he’s gotta come get me himself,” says Naruto, who now brushes past the other. “I’m goin’ to eat, smell ya later Hinata.”

 

Hinata feels her heart drop more and more with the sound of Naruto’s retreating footsteps.

 

.

.

.

 

With thirty minutes to go until Sabaku’s hellish class, Naruko stands on line at the ramen bar.

 

At least this joint’s outside: where you could eat in the fresh air, and the campus gardens smells of jasmine with hints of orange.

 

Until that is, Sai wedges in all slick-a-rick—wearing a thick scent of musk and patchouli. Naruto winces. A girl’s nose seems to be worlds more sensitive. And everyone waiting in queue can tell how Sai’s happy to use Naruko as an excuse to cut ten other people. I don’t blame himthe line’s movin’ slower than a snail high on grass.

 

“I forgot your name,” confesses Sai, with a provocative smile.

 

Sai squeezes in, much to the chagrin of everyone else.

 

“It’s Naruko.”

 

And why the hell is Sai wearing a leather jacket anyhow when it’s ninety degrees?

 

“Strange, the name doesn’t really suit you,” he comments. “Naruko translates into ‘the moist one’ in ancient sanskrit. That’s far better than being named after a fishcake like your cousin, that’s for sure.”

 

More sore than a peptic ulcer, Naruko turns red as hell. “Well maybe that ain’t so bad,” she bites out. “Moist fishcake—that sounds like a delicious combination.”

 

“Depends, princess. If we’re talking sex, then I’d prefer just the moist.”

 

That’s my daughter, you snake!”

 

That’s when Jiraiya clacks across in wooden sandals, swiping his Giorgio Armani frames off. Eyes aflame with menace, the old man manages to seize everyone’s attention. Even the servers freeze because Jiraiya waves a giant bamboo shoot like it’s a weapon.

 

“I’m your daughter now, really?” deadpans Naruto.

 

 “I was going to wait until you were done eating. I’m not sitting back to watch this reprobate put the moves on you. He has no class!”

 

Jiraiya sounds so coarse and deep with adrenaline, that Naruto blinks in surprise. And Sai raises both hands up in the air. With the dull end of the bamboo shoot pressing against his neck, Sai’s eyes crescent in defeat.

 

“I’m sorry sir. I’ll go and eat somewhere else.”

 

Nice and slow, Sai backs away, inching closer to the exit. So quiet, so tense, until the deviant sophomore pays Naruko a farewell glance that says: see you in class, princess. Wearing a devilish grin, he even waves Naruko bye, and makes the universal gesture of ‘call me, doll’.

 

Provoked, Jiraiya stomps his left foot sending a shrieking shraack, about to give chase. Yet like a whip chain, Naruko’s wrist launches out and seizes a handful of Jiraiya’s tail of hair.

 

“You’re not chasin’ anyone down!”

 

Whirling around, Jiraiya towers over her, declaring from the bottom of his gut.

 

“I don’t want you near him. Do you understand me?”

 

It’s so humiliating when all classmates from across grades, just stare at Naruko like she’s a toddler getting reprimanded. College campus too, of all places and times, where you’re supposed to have a semblance of independence and freedom. Flushing from the spotlight, she lashes out.

 

“I’m not your daughter, you made that crystal clear the other time!”

 

“That was a mistake. I didn’t know…”

 

“Mistake, my ass! Speaking of ass, was it worth it? Groping me, I mean, your own ‘daughter’!”

 

At this, Jiraiya chokes and waves it all away with a flurry of his hands.

 

“Let’s go somewhere private, I’ll get you something to eat.”

 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere with ya, big-time hypocrite.”

 

Jiraiya sighs and tosses aside the bamboo shoot (which now come to think of it, must have been ripped off from the potted bamboo nearby).

 

“Your ramen’s on me, kid,” he says in a gruff voice, “we need to talk.”

 

And thus, they sit side by side on high barstools, with Naruto slurping on fresh hot ramen. The whole while, Jiraiya rests an elbow, and he lazily watches the bowl get devoured by such a hungry kid, he thinks to himself: at least she didn’t lose Naruto’s appetite. If only Jiraiya knew, that this was probably the only meal Naruto would be eating today. Ever since the transformation, the food’s always forgotten, and she goes many nights with a rumbling stomach.

 

“So you’re not hot for me as your bunny anymore?” she asks between slurps. “And since when am I your daughter?”

 

“Goddaughter doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it. Either way, forget what happened before. You’re my responsibility.”

 

“I’m in college, I’m my own man,” Naruto tells him, pointing the chopsticks in accusation. “I don’t need you making a scene, treating me like I’m helpless! Come on.”

 

“Naruto, oh…Naruto. You’re not a man anymore. And if I were you, I’d start showing some respect to your elders, especially me, considering I’m your ticket back to your old form. Me and Tsunade raised you better, I’m hearing you’re rude as ever now. Cutting class, not even addressing your teachers with honorifics and—what are you—stop doing t-that…”

 

Naruko leans in, splaying a palm across his shoulder.  Very determined to shatter his fronts, to test his true intentions. She lets her hand crawl across his chest like a mischievous spider, and when it finds an area of revealed skin at the base of his neck, twirls her finger in circles. Anyone who has eyes could tell Jiraiya was tearing apart from within. How his will’s being tested, when his eyes fall onto Naruko’s puckered lips, and his skin turns to gooseflesh at the way she teases him.

 

“I promise to be good,” she purrs, penetrating through the wanton haze. “You said you have a ticket to my old form?”

 

The fact that Jiraiya starts stumbling and stuttering, Naruto knows that despite whatever the old man says…he still has the hots for Naruko. And maybe in another life, the old Naruto had fun getting his way with it, rendering Jiraiya into an incoherent, nose-bleeding mess.

 

“I’m working on it,” he manages. “But first…”

 

“Mmm? Yes, Master Jiraiya?”

 

The lust in Jiraiya’s eyes sparks a flame until finally the man snatches her wrist and twists it off him. You could see the muscle twitching across his temple, like a lightning strike, how much restraint he’s exercising.

 

 “I need you to pay close attention. Strange things are happening, and you and Sasuke are right in the middle of it.”

 

“Oh?”

 

And when Jiraiya sobers up, losing the stutter, Naruto leans back impressed. Maybe the old man really meant business after all.

 

“Go on, pops. This prophecy mention anythin’ about a transformation? One morning the hero’s a man, and the next, a broad, somethin’ like that?”

 

“I don’t believe so.”

 

She kicks back, arms crossed behind her head.

 

“Then whattaya know, looks like this is a waste of my time!”

 

“The end of times is not a waste of time.”

 

Naruto just gives him the funny eye. “You’re soundin’ like all the religious quacks now, it’s lame. Okay, so let’s hear it! C’mon!”

 

Miffed, Jiraiya lights a cigarette, ignoring the dirty glare the chef pays him.

 

“The prophecy foretells of the second coming. That the hero who saved the world before would be reborn. I think that’s you.”

 

“Well that’s a nice bedtime story. But unless ya got any intel on why or how I’m a woman now, then we’re done here.”

 

When Jiraiya pulls the stick out of his mouth, he says plain as air:

 

“Your karma mark is linked to Kaguya. Let’s start there.”

 

“Nice try, old geezer. I don’t have any marks.”

 

“It should manifest in the palm.”

 

Naruto flips both hands over, finding nothing. Thus in a frantic whirlwind, she spins on the stool. Feeling herself up, checking for any tattoos or marks, and ultimately she finds not even one freckle out of place. Was karma invisible or something? Did it only reveal under certain lights or circumstances?

 

“Are ya sure Itachi wasn’t just seein’ things? I mean, damn, I don’t got time ta check for the mark now. I got class. Sakura said if I miss anymore then Tsunade might kick me out her dojo.” Leaning with a cocky air, she says smooth, “Ya know…Aunty Tsunade would be even more pissed, if I said it was your fault I’m missin’ class. Over your bullshit prophecy.”

 

To which Jiraiya puffs a pfft sound, looking ten years younger. Being in Naruto’s presence, was like sipping from the fountain of youth. So reverting to his brash side, Jiraiya unsheathes another cigarette from his carton. Right before he can light the damn thing, Naruto seizes it.

 

“Give it back, kiddo.”

 

“Nah, and while I’m at it, I’m confiscatin’ your stash. It's for your own good.” Her paws snatch his fanny pack. “Now before I go. Is there anything you wanna say to me?”

 

Like an I’m sorry.

 

“Yes, I almost forgot.”

 

A small smile creeps upon her face...

 

“Madara’s sword has gone missing. There’s a whole investigation.”

 

…only to shatter.

 

“Not what I was hopin to hear,” is the grumble. “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, I guess.”

 

“Don’t you see? That sword would sell millions on the black market. It could be yakuza. But why now? They must have someone working on the inside.”

 

Naruto’s phone bleeps with text messages. Surprised to find Sasuke writing her a note: I haven’t seen you all day, tell me you’re not caught up in more trouble. To which she narrows her eyes, and grunts low enough, typing madly: oh, you’ll see me tonight, with helluva surprise. That’s when Sasuke sends a text with just ellipsis, “”, and the message stinks with doubt.

 

“You don’t care about the safety of the world? How Madara’s sword in the wrong hands could wreak havoc?” accuses Jiraiya.

 

Naruto nods, but anyone can tell it’s a dismissive, spacey one.

 

“Yeah, the apocalypse is comin’ to town, and you wanna rope me and Sasuke into it. But I gotta get to class and then prove to everyone that I can cook a meal without takin any causalities.”

 

With this, Naruto bolts out, the door chiming behind.

 

.

.

.

 

“Helluva surprise.

 

 That last text message haunts him until seven in the evening. When Sasuke twists the keys in the lock, he hears loud banging from the other side.

 

And he sweeps in, only for everything to be in…one-piece. In fact, white linen drapes over the dining table, while a candle sits at the center, and wine glasses stand tall at the ends.  Except the wine glasses were empty. 

 

“What’s going on?”

 

His voice cuts with paranoia. Just as Sasuke treads with caution, in fear of stepping on a land mine—or if Naruto’s setting him up with another prank.

 

“Yo! Sasuke! I tried to get us the fancy stuff, but they carded me. They wouldn't sell me wine or sake."

 

Bursting out like the genie of the bottle, Naruko poofs out from the kitchen because a trail of smoke follows her, and it reeks of fine meat. She’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her sportiest look to date. And she lifts a Pyrex roasting dish with very thick mittens.

 

“Also damn, what perfect timing! Just took the roast out, and I gotta be honest, it took so much willpower not to nibble pieces off it.”

 

“What is all this?”

 

“Me proving you wrong, Uchiha. What else?”

 

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath. After all, what did he expect her to say? He’s relieved that it’s Naruto and not some blonde broad really trying to be his fiancé.

 

To punctuate, Naruko sets the main course slap bang on the table.

 

“I had the craziest day, I dunno where ta start. Before I go into it all, how about ya change into loungewear or somethin’.”

 

That’s the plan, anyway. Sasuke drifts in and out of his room. Coming out of his quarters, though, he smirks—just how easy it was to egg Naruto on—into even cooking them a meal and fetching all the groceries. Everything could be turned into a game.

 

Unnerving though how Naruto sizes him up.

 

“Can I help you, Uzumaki?” he bites out.

 

In fact, her gaze points to his exposed arms, or biceps rather. Worse, her eyes move in such a predictable fashion, to his core and then trailing downwards. Sasuke jams his hands into his pant pockets, especially as she traces his body with a mix of envy and…a flash so familiar in the eyes of other women, dare he say, admiration…

 

“Nothin just, you’re still in tip-top shape. You got gains.”  And then she whips away, turning red. From shame, maybe. “I’m not even sure if I can schlep a box of my own DVDs from storage.”

 

“At least one of us could, then.”

 

Her brow twitches. “Anyway, I went outta my way for this, and I figured, heck. It’s my turn to ask a favor from you.”

 

When he shrugs, Sasuke scarcely hides how his body coils under the pressure of her expectant gaze.  

 

“And that is?”

 

“Before we eat, I wanna practice a new move on you.”

 

“You want to fight me?”

 

Naruto glares at his incredulous tone. “I’d prefer if you didn’t fight back. It’s a new move and I just wanna see if it makes sense.”

 

“I’m not your practice dummy, dummy.”

 

Brushing past her, Sasuke can feel the spikes jutting out from her aura.

 

“Why not?” she barks.

 

“It’s not the same if I let you win.”

 

Even though they take their seats in silence, a cold war erupts. Naruto passive-aggressively stabs the meat, beating it up on her plate. Slamming the flatware whenever she could, she loses control of the temper tantrum. Naruto even breathes asshole on every other exhale, to taunt him out of the silence.

 

And yet, Sasuke cuts into the food without a word.

 

That is, he purposefully swerves his focus away from her forcefield. Being this impervious to her taunts, you should have seen how quick Naruto transitions from an angry child to a pouting one.

 

And the pouting Naruko—he’s not ready for.

 

Cheeks puffed out, brows furrowed in distress, hair dangling along her drooping face…what a pitiful portrait. And her usual cockeyed optimism dulls when she props her face on her hand and she sinks like a wilting flower. And that scared the hell out of him.

 

“Dinner’s not half bad,” he says, changing the subject. “And you didn’t burn the place down. I’m impressed.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Which sounded so dead to his ears, Sasuke’s eyes widen.

 

“Naruto?”

 

“What!” the cry rips from the soul.

 

Sasuke blinks at the show of passion. And how terrible Naruto was at bottling up emotions, even for two minutes, it utterly destabilizes Naruto’s very body.

 

“If I play along with your game, will you quit looking so pathetic?” he asks.

 

Only for her to raise up with disbelief. “It’s not a game,” she denies. “But you doin’ me a solid for once would cheer me up.”

 

“Then I’ll do your stupid favor, as long as you stop pouting. It’s ruining my appetite.”

 

His heart clenches at how she jolts up, beaming. Gripping the knife tightly, he tries to ignore the rustle in his chest. Like a bee’s trapped inside, stinging him from within. His heart once again swindling him, the rhythm plays off-tune as another double beat has him faltering. All because he succumbs to the request. Naruto turns into a cloud of pure joy—it’s toxic poison.

 

So intoxicating, that he’s manhandled into the open space of the living area. Questioning his own sanity, for right behind him, his friend gives him a rundown.

 

“I noticed in this body, there’s a ton of natural strength in the legs, so I wanna tap into it more.”

 

“Just do the move, moron, before I change my mind.”

 

Sasuke stares ahead through the floor-to-ceiling window. Distracting himself, watching the planes soar across the city, the strobe lights from below…

 

“Okay so, I just wanna warn you, it might not go how I want. It’s a test run.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“And the safe word is Uncle Madara, just like always so—”

 

“Shut up and do it.”

 

He hears Naruto sniggering from behind, “That’s what she said!”

 

Before Sasuke could return with a remark, a sack of potatoes rams the back of his knees. How her one ankle slices through, destroying his balance in a single snap. The world inverts. Goodbye Tokyo skylights, and hello beige carpet. Yet before he eats the floor, Naruto forces them into a tumble. Sasuke lashes out in reflex. His instinct: that if he’s going to drown, he’d take her with him. Now they’re driving off into a detour because she’s yelling at him.

 

“You’re supposed to just take it! You’re ruining it, you bastard!”

 

While his back's on the ground, he straps Naruto to his chest like a dysfunctional seatbelt. He's gentle while also showing off his strength. It drives her mad, though. She wriggles like a fish caught in the net of his arms: all frantic and wild. The crazy bucking movements she makes, creates friction, sparking his flesh. Tuning him to a new frequency. He’s alive, and he pants in exhilaration. The passion of her struggle, even against all odds—every oof she makes, and all the tumult as her body shakes—transmits deep into his bones, kindling an ache deep below. The burning spreads like wildfire.

 

Sasuke only ups the ante, sneering. “Safeword?”

 

The second he glides his arm up menacingly, pressing on her, she spits:

 

“I gotcha! Just where I want.”

 

Naruto dispatches a swift elbow jab, just barely missing his face and a kick to his shin. Stunning him for the briefest of moments, but enough for her to bend backward. And with all her might, her thighs wrapped around his head—squeezing him like a nutcracker. Such intense strength, and his hands shoot up to pry her off him.

 

Yet her ankles crisscross over his throat, and he chokes when she tightens.

 

“I call it the widowmaker. Ya like it? Hm, since you can’t talk, I’ll answer for ya.” She makes a nasal, cheap imitation of him, “My name’s Sasuke, and I’m the biggest loser. Naruto owns me, no matter what, all hail to Master-Naruto!

 

A surge of power floods his veins. Wanting to punish her for that. Every second her thighs envelop the sides of his face, threatening to take him under, he pushes back. He gathers enough force to unwind the knot on his throat.

 

“Nuh-uh, you gotta say the safe word.”

 

It’s not enough to stop him. Sasuke overcomes her death grip, twisting her legs off him. Naruko scrambles back, stupefied. Looks like her trump card’s out the window now. Because upon his advance, she lashes out. Only for him to snatch her two dainty hands, stapling them onto the floor and above her head.

 

The scrunchie came loose a long time ago, so all her blond hair splays under her. She’s a complete mess under him.

 

“Is that all you got, deadlast. I expected more from you.”

 

Naruto’s eyes widen. “I—I just need more practice, is all.”

 

With how tight Sasuke pins her down, she can’t even wiggle her hands. They turn numb. Now his scrutiny has her clenching up. The way he scans her head-to-toe, lingering on her chest until Naruko can’t take being viewed under the microscope of his judgment. And she convulses on a grand scale, her thrashing whirls into a vicious tornado.

 

All in vain, however, as every collision serves him like wooden logs to his fire. The ache spreads. He needs her to surrender. And Sasuke hovers low enough to the point their noses nearly touch. Phantom grazes, here and there, while his body eclipses hers. His shadow casting over like a thundercloud promising a ton of doom, and he can feel Naruto stiffen up.

 

“All hail Sasuke, is more like it.”

 

“You got a big head. You always did.”

 

“Bigger than yours?”

 

She grinds her teeth, and screws her eyes shut. “I’m gonna destroy you when I turn back.”

 

“Or you can just say the safe word, loser.”

 

She screws her eyes shut.

 

“Uncle. Madara.”

 

However, it was selling her soul to the devil, or to Madara himself, that’s how painful those words were.

 

“Now was that so hard?”

 

The second Sasuke lets go, Naruko springs into the air like some kid on a pogo stick. Unconsciously, his eyes catch the way her breasts bounce. No brassiere to filter: how her two peaks greet him through her white shirt, saluting him. And suddenly the room feels more humid than a rainforest; was it their panting hot breaths, making the air so sticky. Because even with the distance Naruko puts, he burns with fever still. 

 

“If it’s a sparring match you want, Uchiha,” she whips a finger, her canines glinting. “Then that’s what you’re gonna get. Rematch, tomorrow.”

 

“The loser doesn’t call the shots.”

 

Her hair stands on end as if she’s been tasered.  Without sparing another moment, Naruko storms off into her room.

 

BADOOM! The door slams.

 

Adrenaline dissipates. Sasuke freezes over, unmoving in this sudden silence. He warmed up next to the furnace, in Naruto’s aura, only to be thrown out in the cold. So sitting alone, he thinks any second now Naruto will storm right back out. 

 

Yet instead, he's left stranded and wondering…how would she have fought for escape? What if she didn’t use the safe word, what then?

 

As he passes the mirror, he sees how depraved and in dire need he is of a cold shower. This never happened before. Absentminded, Sasuke buries a hand in his hair, for once feeling stumped with even the impulse of curiosity shushed. Let the elephant in the room stand and stare because today, he’s not offering a real explanation.

 

That’s when the intercom blares, and “Joseph” the doorman calls.

 

Sasuke opens the line with an annoyed, “What is it?”

 

“Your older brother is on his way up,” says the other, ever so joyfully. “I thought you might have wanted a heads up.”

 

Right now? Sasuke slams the line after blurting out an empty thank you. Out of all times, of course. When the tent in his pants couldn’t get any louder.

 

After unlocking the door, Sasuke dives on the couch, throwing a pillow over his crotch. Flicking the remote, he turns on the TV—and just in time too.

 

For the doorbell rings once, but everyone knows it was a complimentary ring.  

 

 “Hello, little brother, I do hope this isn’t a bad time.”

 

Sasuke trains his focus on the television, feigning indifference. Yet, he finds it impossible to play cool with Itachi shining such a knowing gaze: like police helicopters with their searchlights, illuminating every dark corner in search for the criminal. Itachi circles around the couch, and now Sasuke has no choice but to meet his brother in the eyes.

 

“Is everything alright?” asks Itachi.

 

“Yes, why?”

 

Itachi blinks before glancing at the fifty-inch flat screen.

 

“Well for starters, I know you don’t fancy the kid’s anime channel.”

 

“Naruto left it on.”

 

“And you haven’t been sleeping. You appear unwell…disheveled, in fact.”

 

Sasuke clenches his jaw, and he nearly launches the pillow at that concerned—determined—expression, although that would blow his cover, and he needs the pillow to hide the situation downstairs.

 

“I’ll sleep more, then,” he grates out. “Is that all?”

 

Itachi narrows his dark, simmering eyes. “You seem eager to get rid of me. Makes me wonder what my little brother is hiding…this time.”

 

“Just tell me why you’re here, Itachi.”

 

 His older brother takes a seat beside, and confesses:

 

“I want to apologize. Much has come to light, and I no longer suspect you are behind Naruto’s transformation.”

 

“Then who?”

 

“Our father.”