Chapter Text
Naruto had become a constant presence around his house. It was getting increasingly obvious that he was a restless wreck because of it. Sasuke looked up from the table; the kotatsu blanket had recently been placed back on his shelf. He wanted to tell him you don’t have to be here, but found himself too tired to say it. Too tired to fight about it. Too tired for anything, really.
And Naruto had so much fucking energy.
All the time.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want Naruto here. He’d known, when he’d moved to the outskirts of Konoha, that Naruto would be around as much as he could. It might even have been one of the reasons he’d chosen to come back to Konoha. The idea of being near each other had seemed — comfortable.
Sasuke let himself curl on his side, leaning his head onto his arm, and opened his book again. It was a second-hand copy of collected Rain Country myths, which was as interesting as just about anything else. He was halfway through a story about a river spirit, a merman-like being, who controlled the fishes, and thus fishing villages.
“What are you reading?” Naruto piped up.
Sasuke glanced at him. “Still the myths.”
“Ah, the Rain County ones?”
Sasuke signed. “Mhm.”
“Hm, okay,” Naruto got up. “Do you want some tea?”
Sasuke went back to reading, nodded.
The house he’d been able to get was a nice one. Maybe Kakashi had felt guilty about everything that had happened, when he’d offered it to him. Or maybe he’d just wanted him to stay around — for personal reasons, or, Sasuke found more likely, for Naruto’s sake — and hoped that a beautiful old house would do the trick.
He’d chosen well. The house reminded him of the house he’d grown up in. Big sliding doors, and an engawa between the garden and the living spaces. His bedroom quite empty, aside from one futon (or two, when Naruto decided to stick around for the night and pull his own from the closet), and the living room was spacious.
Sasuke had little furniture, but he did have, well… stuff.
Naruto had brought back wind chimes from all over the world — as if he had specifically asked for it, which he hadn’t — and Sasuke had lined all of them up in the opening of his engawa as soon as the winter had faded into spring.
Then there were books piled up all through the living room. Things he had never expected to be reading, as well as books that he’d carried with him before settling down had even crossed his mind. Books that had pulled him through were lying in the same piles as the ones with, well, Rain Country myths.
He didn’t have many groceries, but he’d built up an impressive collection of spices and sauces. A while back he’d bought a pan that could fit meals for two people in it, too. A silently hopeful purchase.
It was quite simple, all of it. The living room and his books. The bedroom with folded futons. The kitchen with his sauces.
It was his, though.
And this whole thing — the house, the space, the time — made him realise that he had never really had anything that was his. Most of his life had been lived for others. He’d deny it if anyone asked, but he’d never had anything that was completely his.
He’d never quite lived for himself.
And now, well—
He grumbled a thank you as Naruto placed a cup of tea in front of him, knowing he’d understand.
“What are we doing for dinner? Want to go out? Ichiraku?”
“I’m making udon with egg.”
Naruto nodded. “Oh! Okay, yeah that sounds nice.”
“Naruto.” Sasuke put his book down. “It’s your day off. Have a beer with the rest of the group or something. Invite Iruka to Ichiraku.”
Naruto stopped in his tracks. He was standing in the door opening, seemingly on his way to jump into the empty garden. Restless. “Oh, do you want me to go?”
The thing was… that Sasuke couldn’t help but live for Naruto.
He cursed himself for it, but Naruto was still the only thing that made him feel like something about this whole fucked up life was worth the exhausting task of living it.
“Go anywhere you want.”
Naruto frowned, just slightly, and then sat back down. “I’m fine here, though.”
Sasuke shrugged and picked up the cup of tea Naruto had made him.
Every time he’d seen Naruto in their years apart, he’d been taller than before. Every single time he’d been calmer. Every single time, he’d been the same person Sasuke had known while growing up. Bright and energetic.
Sasuke really wished he could say the same for himself, but he had no clue where he’d left the person he used to be. He didn’t even know if finding that person would be worth it. Had he ever really been fine?
“Would you like pork to go with it?”
“What?”
“With the noodles. There’s a butcher a few streets ahead.”
“Oh, yeah. You want me to go?”
Sasuke closed his book and pushed himself up from the floor. “Let’s go.”
Sasuke and the butcher had an understanding. Or maybe it was more like a deal.
A few weeks earlier the butcher, a middle-aged woman with rough hands and a sharp tongue, had asked him if ‘it was him who was feeding the neighbourhood cat that canned garbage’ and he’d nodded, a little dumbstruck. The orange cat had obviously been pregnant and tired, and Sasuke had taken a few cans of cat food while he’d been out grocery shopping.
“Take this,” she’d told him, pushing a plastic bag full of meat into his hands. “Feed it to them somewhere else.”
Now, every time he bought anything from her, he took the leftovers without even mentioning it. The butcher didn’t seem like she wanted to chat anyway, but he figured she was glad that the neighbourhood cat had stopped complaining at her doorstep.
He fed the cat in an alley next to his house. Sometimes, when he took too long, the cat would walk into his garden and yell like she’d never been fed in her life. He didn’t mind, not really. Especially on days like this, where Naruto would leave on a mission that started at midnight. Classified and long.
God, maybe he really was getting too used to someone being loud all the time.
He grabbed the plate he’d once put in the alley from the verge, brushed some sand off of it, and then placed the meat on top of it. The cat was slow to come, walking as if her own weight had become too heavy to carry. He held out his hand for her, waiting for her to heavily, tiredly, bump her entire weight against him as a thank you.
“Hey sweet girl,” he mumbled. “Almost there.”
He didn’t know how far along she was, not exactly, but he figured it wouldn’t be much longer. Slowly, he got up again. He scratched the cat behind her ear before walking back to his house, through the garden, through the sliding doors. He left them open. It was getting warmer, the night later to come.
He glanced up at the sky, a soft pink and purple hue above him.
For a while now, it was as if Sasuke had a button that was broken.
One that was either on: giving his all, so much that it completely blinded him.
Or it was off: whatever he was doing right now.
He knew that it was stupid to indulge, to give in to his tired state. He was far from safe. There were, probably, enough people in this world that still wanted his head. He knew he couldn’t — hell, he didn’t want to depend on Konoha when it came to protecting him.
And he’d seen himself listed in bingo books.
As the last Uchiha.
Student of Orichimaru.
Carrier of the Sharingan.
As the fastest way to get to Naruto. Or, to get him to lose control.
He knew it would be wise to train, even if it was just honing his basic skills. Maybe practising taijutsu with Sakura, or doing a once-in-a-while all out spar with Naruto.
Instead, he sat with his legs hanging from the engawa and thought about whether he wanted to plant anything in his garden— about if he felt like going to the nearest hot spring once the sun had gone down and most families had left.
His own weight had become too heavy to carry.
The button was off.
And he didn’t want it to be on completely, not if it felt anything like how he’d felt before. So.
So, he guessed this was it.
He woke up with the birds singing. He cursed the sun that came up early, yet he opened the windows and glanced at the sky as it slowly changed colour. He cursed Konoha’s walls, too. Useless sense of security.
He moved to the kitchen with a blanket around his shoulders and waited for his water to boil, then poured himself a big mug of coffee. Back in his bed, he watched the birds for a little while. Most flew over the garden. The few that landed, realised soon enough that there was not much to get — no sticks, no fruit — and went on with their search.
Sasuke had never been that fond of spring, and preferred the more extreme seasons. He was starting to see the appeal, though.
Back on his futon, his sliding doors completely open and the early morning wind blowing through his bedroom, he opened a book that he’d grabbed from underneath a rapidly growing pile. The title was really all there was to it; growing your own kitchen garden for beginners.
He scanned the contents, from the introduction, to the herbs, to the simple vegetables, to the more advanced, and guessed he might as well start at the very beginning. Overlooking his empty garden, listening to the birds he did not yet have to fend from his plants, he flipped the first page.
Sasuke found the litter of kittens once the sun had come up completely.
He’d grabbed yesterdays meat leftovers, slipped on his sandals, and walked to the alley to give the cat her usual breakfast.
He was squatting near the plate that he’d just put the meat on, when he realised that the cat was not running up to him, not even slowly.
He spotted the cat and her litter lying in a patch of grass, underneath a small bush that separated the path from one of his neighbour’s houses.
Three kittens were lying safely near their mum, drinking her milk and trying to push each other away.
One orange. One calico. One black.
For a little while, Sasuke watched them crawl, fighting over the spot closest to their mum, and he scooched the plate a little closer to them. The mother could use all the strength she could get for now. “Here you go, sweet mum.”
He guessed the complaining for dinner would get louder soon.
A few days later, Naruto was sitting on his doorstep again, looking like a proper mess. He seemed to have come straight from his mission, without even stopping by his own apartment. Sasuke silently wondered how long he’d have to be in Konoha until Naruto trusted he was here. That he was not leaving, and especially not disappearing while he was on a mission.
“Naruto,” he mumbled, heavy bags hanging from his shoulder.
“Oh, hi!” Naruto stood up. He seemed to have a cut from his wrist all the way to his elbow. Sasuke scanned him for anything else, but it seemed that he had otherwise gotten home safely. “Was wondering where you were! What are you carrying?”
Sasuke frowned. “Did you stop by the hospital?”
As Naruto rolled his eyes as he took the bag Sasuke was carrying from him, glancing at all the seeds, the small plants, and the net he’d bought. “Are these plants?”
“Naruto—”
“Kuruma will heal me. It’s fine.”
Sasuke found himself believing him. Or, maybe, he simply understood not wanting to go to the hospital. Indulging, he mumbled “Garden,” before opening the door. “Take off your shoes.”
Naruto grumbled, but did as he said. “Can I help?”
“Take a bath.”
“Before working in the garden? That seems stupid, even for you.”
Sasuke watched Naruto as he put the bag down against the garden door, and then he shrugged, mumbled: “Takes one to know one.”
“Aha! So you admit being stupid?”
He opened up the door to his garden, humming in a way that did not quite agree nor disagree with Naruto's statement. When he turned around, Naruto was staring at him. A frown on his face.
Like he was trying to figure something out.
“What?” Sasuke snapped.
Naruto looked away. “You used to get kind of angry when I called you stupid.”
Sasuke was sure he did. He hadn’t thought Naruto would notice the difference.
“Ah, well.” He mumbled, not knowing what else to say. Was he supposed to get angry, still? Was he supposed to apologize? “Go shower.”
“Okay, jeez.”
Naruto had been right. By the time they were done planting everything he’d bought, they were both completely covered in dirt again. Sasuke had, halfway through, forced Naruto to put some bandage around his arm just so there wouldn’t get (more) dirt into his wound.
By the time they were done, the sun was already setting. The garden was far from booming. They hadn’t planted more than a small patch close to the engawa. They had used two to three metres for herb seeds, but those would take weeks to sprout, and then they’d placed a few tomato and strawberry plants in the next patch.
If you didn’t know they were there, it was easy to miss that there were any plants at all.
“Well, that’s disappointing,” Naruto said.
Sasuke chuckled. “That’s life.”
“Okay, pessimistic fuck.”
Sasuke couldn’t help but disagree. He didn’t really feel pessimistic.
Not that he did feel optimistic. Far from. He simply felt like he had planted a garden, or something that could become one, and that it could grow. He felt like it was just another day. Just another day of doing whatever, even though he could, should, have been dead.
Whatever the hell that meant. Living. That.
Carefully, Sasuke spun the net he’d bought over the tomato and strawberry plants. The fabric was way too big for the patch, so it awkwardly formed a pile next to it.
When he looked over his shoulder, Naruto was sleepily watching him. He wondered what kind of mission Naruto had gone on. Couldn’t have been easy, if he’d been away for days on end.
Sasuke figured it wouldn’t be much longer until he fell asleep somewhere on the floor. “What is it?”
Naruto shrugged. “You’re so different now.”
He didn’t know if that was a compliment. Naruto had liked the way he’d been before. Passionate, quick to get fired up, to bite back, to insult him. Quick to snap. To get manipulated. To fight. Did Naruto miss him being that way?
He’d liked him enough to chase him to hell and back.
“Lay out your futon,” Sasuke mumbled.
Naruto, instead of looking disappointed that he’d been ignored, grinned at him excitedly. “Oh! Yeah? Can I sleep here?”
“Mhm.”
Sasuke didn’t sleep that night.
Not being able to sleep had, over the months, become less and less frustrating. He’d gladly taken the few hours he was able to doze off. By now, every night that wasn’t filled with nightmares, was fine by him.
Having Naruto next to him, though, snoring with an open mouth, made him want to. Or, even if he couldn’t sleep, it made him want to place his futon against Naruto’s and huddle together. It made him want to lay so close that Naruto could simply wrap his arms around him, the snoring so loud and close to his ear that sleeping was impossible anyway.
Instead, he glanced at the starry sky.
Instead, knowing better, he tried sleeping.
Instead, he dozed off for minutes or, if he was lucky, an hour or two until morning came.
Naruto hadn’t yet figured out how much coffee he needed to put in a filter.
Sasuke woke up from the few hours of sleep he’d been able to get, when Naruto squatted down next to him and put his mug on the wooden floor. The strong — too strong — scent filling the bedroom.
“Sasuke,” Naruto tried to whisper.
Sasuke watched him, his bright friend, already dressed, through thick eyes. Had he slept through Naruto waking up? It was dawn, but not quite light outside yet.
“I made you coffee,” he said. Then, he wiped some of Sasuke’s hair from his eyes. The skin where Naruto touched him felt like it had been lit on fire. “Sleep some more. I’m running errands for Kakashi today.”
Sasuke just looked at him.
He was so tired.
“You don’t have to drink it— it’s probably not that good anyway. I mean, ah, you should sleep some more. If you can.”
The wind chimes sounded through the garden.
He wanted Naruto to stay a little longer.
“Maybe I can come over again tonight, okay?” Naruto got up, walking towards the door.
“Mhm.”
Sasuke, of course, didn’t sleep some more.
He drank the coffee Naruto had made him, even though he was definitely risking some type of heart attack or food poisoning because of it. He kept the garden doors closed, listened to the wind chimes and to the wooden doors rumbling in their frames.
It appeared sunny enough, but the wind had something rough today.
He fried an egg, sunny side up, and placed it on top of rice with some soy sauce. While eating, he read poetry he wasn’t particularly interested in. Some haiku. Some letters written between two apparently famous writers that he had never heard of before.
He left his bowl in the sink.
From his fridge, he got out the last bit of leftover meat and then he filled a small bowl with water. The last time he’d seen the kittens, they’d had just opened their eyes and ears, their mum nursing them grumpily. He wondered if they’d be awake. If they had grown enough to move around on their own a little.
He slipped into his sandals and walked out back, through his garden, towards the alley with both the bowl and the meat in his hand. There, he squatted and emptied the bag on the plate. “Here you go, little mum.”
His neighbourhood cat was lying underneath a bush in the grass. The kittens against her stomach. One orange one, one black one.
Sasuke frowned and set a few steps closer to them. The mother didn’t seem to mind, letting him into their space easily, and even getting up to rub her head against him.
Sasuke scanned the spot where she had been lying, but only saw the same two kittens.
One orange one. One black one.
The calico one was missing.
He scanned the verge, the grass, the alleyway. Only a few metres further, he saw the small body of the third kitten. He hurried towards it, picked it up without thinking. The kitten, not much older than a week or two, fit into his palm easily.
And it would never grow any bigger than that. Its legs were stiff and there was blood running from its face and neck. From bite marks, he realised.
The kitten had been bitten by a dog, or fox. A dog was most likely. An owner who’d dragged the dog away right after he’d bitten the neck of this small form of life, but not bothering to pick up a street kitten himself.
With a kitten that had just been born. A kitten that had been ripped away from its litter as if it didn’t even matter. Who the fuck cared, right?
He tried to look up, but found himself seeing black.
Blood too, dripping onto his fingers, between them.
Dripping out of its nose. The kitten in his hand was becoming hazy — his hands far away.
Huh. Was he shaking?
Didn’t things deserve to grow?
Black again.
Didn’t things—
“Sasuke.”
Someone touched his shoulder. Only when he came eye to eye with Kakashi’s sharingan, did he realise that he was watching him with his own.
Ah, that explained the haze.
He glanced up. Around him, blocking both sides of the alley, sitting in the trees above him, were Anbu agents. Cold and anonymous in their masks. What the hell. What the—
“Your chakra spiked,” Kakashi said, as if that explained everything.
Sasuke tried to breathe. How was that fair? How was any of this fair?
“Sasuke. Do you hear me?”
Was he stupid? Of course he could hear him. He didn’t know what to answer him though. He didn’t even know if he wanted to answer him. “Fuck off,” He whispered. Slowly, he pressed the kitten against his chest. “Why are you here?”
“Sasuke. Your chakra—”
“I heard you the first time. Leave me be. ”
Kakashi glanced up at his anbu, and then made a hand sign dismissing them. As quick as they had come, they were gone again. He guessed that was something.
That didn’t take away that this village treated him like—
Like he was some kind of—
“Sasuke. Are you—”
“Why are you here?” He repeated. He didn’t know where to go. This was his house. He didn’t want to leave the cats. He wanted to get out. To get away from here. He wanted nothing more to get the fuck away from Kakashi. From this village. “What? Didn’t trust me to be alone? Think I’d burn the village down?”
Kakashi sighed. “Is that so sur—”
Sasuke looked him into his eyes, feeling his eye spiral. A threat, maybe. A way to shut Kakashi up, at least.
“Sasuke,” Kakashi warned. “I don’t want to fight. I just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”
“ What? That I wasn’t snapping? That I wasn’t going insane? Is that what you—”
Both of them fell into silence as a familiar presence dropped down in the alley. Sasuke looked at Naruto, almost wanting to sag with relief. He didn’t want to fight.
He didn’t want to do anything. He wanted none of this to have happened.
“Oh! Hi guys. Kakashi, you’re here?”
“Naruto—” Sasuke breathed out.
“Hi, Sas. You okay? Your chakra spiked. It felt pretty strong.”
Tired. Feeling like he could breathe again, the familiar comfort, the fact he knew Naruto would take care of it; it all made him feel so tired.
He slowly opened his arm, showing him the kitten that had gotten bitten to death. Naruto went wide eyed, then looked at Sasuke again with a kind frown on his face.
Kakashi was the first to speak. “Sasuke, it’s sad but it’s just—”
“Hey, Kakashi sensei.” Naruto mumbled. “We’re cool here. I mean, we’re fine. I promise we won’t fight or anything, ha. Can you—”
“Fuck off,” Sasuke mumbled, finally feeling like he found a bit of himself again.
Naruto chuckled, though it sounded nothing much like his usual laugh. “Yeah. That.”
Naruto didn’t even wait for Kakashi to disappear before walking up to him and carefully grabbing onto him. He laid his hand on the back of Sasuke’s head, and then softly pushed it until Sasuke was leaning on his shoulder.
An awkward hug, but enough to make Sasuke sag against Naruto as if all the energy he’d once had got sucked from his body. Fuck.
“Sorry,” Sasuke mumbled.
He should have been in control.
He’d seen worse. He’d seen— god, he’d done so much worse.
Naruto, though, rubbed the back of his head. “If anyone should say that, it’s not you.” Steadily, Naruto dropped his hand towards his back, rubbing the space between his shoulder blades. “Okay? There’s no need to say that.”
Sasuke pressed his face against Naruto’s neck, breathed out.
After a little while, Naruto spoke up. “Sas, let’s go inside, okay?”
Sasuke glanced up. He felt thick eyed, as if he’d woken up from a nightmare. He glanced back into the alley. The neighbourhood cat was slowly climbing out of the bushes again, as if she was curious what was going on.
“Stupid,” Sasuke mumbled softly. Then, silently, he handed over the kitten in his hands to Naruto. “I’m—” he swallowed. “Let’s— I’m taking the other ones.” He pulled himself away from Naruto’s warm body, steadied himself. “Inside.”