Yes Ladies and Gents, it’s
about that time again…FOR ANOTHER NARU/SAKU ONESHOT IN SHARINGANK LAND!
Oh, the excitement. It
abounds.
Yeah. Was inspired, had to
write this…you know the jazz.
Shatter
Through the
sheer drapes covering the French style doors to the balcony off of his bedroom,
he saw the moon, one bright ball of light amidst a velvety black canvas
speckled with stars. Mesmerized, his eyes were drawn to the light as a starving
man is drawn to the smallest morsel set before him. A clock shaped like a
frog’s head, long, pink tongue swaying back and forth in time steadily ticked
away the seconds from its perch on the wall between the bathroom and Sakura’s
vast, walk-in closet. Next to him in their bed, his wife’s peaceful, even
breathing grappled with the moon for his attention like a jealous lover;
eventually the latter admitted defeat, relinquishing its hold on his cobalt
blue eyes almost as gently as a caress.
Free, he turned his head on
the pillow until he was face to face with the sleeping woman who had claimed
his heart during childhood, before he had a chance to form a serious design on
any other member of the opposite sex, and he felt a warm sensation deep in his
gut, a feeling so profound that he could not even put a name to it. Oh, he
loved her, he knew that, but this feeling seemed to transcend the word, soaring
above and beyond the confines of language to describe it.
Naruto’s vocabulary had
indeed grown after a few years of being forced to conduct countless meetings
with various dignitaries, ambassadors, and council members, not to mention the
shinobi who served under him as well as average villagers, however, despite his
skill as a leader, he was definitely not a scholar by any means. In fact, there
was a running joke among his closest advisors and staff, part of whose duties
included keeping track of any written documents penned by the Hokage, that he
had the uncanny ability to turn the most basic of sentences into a complete
grammatical nightmare, so they rotated the position of personal editor among
themselves, quoting lines of Rokudaime’s literary masterpieces aloud—with him
present, of course—as they corrected. Needless to say, the blonde young man
endured many of these exercises amidst poorly concealed laughter, his head
buried ruefully in his hands.
But lying here, looking
into his wife’s face, he was convinced that even a poet in possession of
boundless stores of eloquent metaphors and similes could not begin to scratch
the surface of the emotions she conjured up in him without trying. Not much of
a romantic as a boy, his perspective changed rapidly once Sakura began to show
interest in developing a relationship with him that exceeded the platonic. Back
then, he was so thrilled to have finally won her affection that his enthusiasm
was evident in everything he did; now, he was so madly in love with her that
thinking silly little thoughts such as those running through his head presently
had become second nature.
Strange, the things a woman
can do to a man.
He smiled fondly at her,
running his fingers through some stray pieces of her hair, as lustrous as fine
silk pooled about her head like a pink halo.
Quite ironic, really.
None of her opponents on the
battlefield would dream of calling his fiery little wife an angel—and there
were times when he himself swore up and down she had to have had demons for
ancestors—but she was his angel, regardless of the scolding and the
smacking and the failed attempts at reforming his bad habits. His clothes still
ended up anyplace other than the dresser, where they belonged; his desk was
still unrecognizable beneath a living behemoth of clutter that only seemed to
grow larger as the years passed; he still chewed his nails down to the quick
even though he got into the most trouble for that offense. To her credit, he no
longer slurped his ramen, and he did try getting his hair in some semblance of
order each morning instead of rolling out of bed and finger-combing it like he
used to. His hair always looked the same no matter what he did, of course, but
it was the effort that counted.
Sakura stirred a bit while
he watched her, arms reaching for a solid surface to hold. It always amazed him
how well her body fit against his, as if the same master craftsman had designed
them, two halves of one whole. Though their paths may have diverged along the
way, they were pulled back to each other by that overpowering sense of
incompleteness, only able to know peace when they were together. Naruto tried
explaining this to her once when they were teenagers; he fumbled, she laughed,
and later, they both cried.
Her grip on him tightened,
and she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her breath tickled the
sensitive skin, and he twitched slightly, biting his lip to subdue laughter. For
as much as he enjoyed her company when awake, asleep she was utterly adorable,
and he savored these rare moments of quiet in which he could drink her in with
his eyes—she often accused him of being a lecher if he stared openly for too
long, and then found some tedious chore for him to do, since, in her words, ‘if
you have time to gawk, then you’re slacking, fox.’ The last occasion he was
caught, for example, he spent the afternoon cleaning the master bathroom, an
endeavor he did not wish to pursue again in the near future. To make a long
story short, the bathroom, after he was finished with it on the first go,
needed to be scrubbed down once more, as it was in a worse state than it had
been originally.
Naruto invented quite a few
creative oaths that day, he remembered.
At least now, he could
admire her and not reap the consequences. Granted, he was missing out on his
own opportunity to sleep, but he wasn’t too concerned about that. Sundays were
normally lazy, anyway, so it wouldn’t matter if he rose a bit later than usual.
Summer in Konoha brought
near roasting temperatures during the day, and comfortable breezes at night. Sakura,
the type to grow hot under too many layers, wore as little as possible to bed
in this season, a decision her husband regarded favorably. Tonight, she donned
a red silk nightie that clung to each of her luscious curves like a glove, an
effect enhanced by the way the silk rode up her thighs as she draped one long,
toned leg over him. Cut low on the chest, the nightie revealed just enough
cleavage to entice, not overpower.
Oh, yes, Naruto liked
summer very much, indeed.
Fingers tracing patterns on
her leg, he was about to let his eyes quest her body when a wailing sound from
the room next door stopped him.
Damn…
Sakura’s eyelids fluttered. Groggy, her speech was a tad slurred. “Izzat
Alex?”
Resigned, Naruto untangled himself and sat up. “Go back to sleep, babe. I’ll
check on him.”
“Mmm.”
His gaze lingered on her form, awash in iridescent moonlight. Another
insistent cry alerted him to his task, and, sighing, he padded out the door and
into his son’s room, where the baby peeked over the edge of his crib
expectantly.
“Da!”
Holding out his pudgy little arms, he implored his father to pick him up.
Naruto raised an eyebrow. “You can’t sleep either, huh?” Going to the crib,
he lifted Alexander—Alex for short—out of it, supporting the baby’s weight in
the crook of his arm. “Do you need a new diaper?” A quick sniff answered the
question. “Nope. Well what’s the matter then? You could’ve picked a better time
to be chatty, mister.”
Solemnly, the boy examined this great, hulking creature with the bright
blonde hair he associated as his father, round emerald eyes—his mother’s
eyes—grave. A second later he giggled, two large dimples in his cheeks.
“Da!” He repeated in his tiny, piping voice, as if he were proud of himself
for managing to summon one of his parents so quickly.
“You’ve got that right.” Naruto told him, grinning. “Good thing you’re cuter
than your Mama,” he added as he settled them in the rocking chair situated near
the right-hand corner. “But that’s just between you and me.” He winked,
tweaking Alex’s nose.
The baby giggled again, and then the glint of something shiny caught his
eye. Alex loved shiny things; the glitter and sparkle of changing colors
fascinated him.
Naruto looked down as his son’s fingers closed around the crystal draped
from a black chord about his neck, a memento from his predecessor, Godaime,
back before she regained her trust in the power of the human will. Tsunade had
been a heartbroken little girl trapped in a woman’s body, unable to progress
beyond the terrible losses of both her brother and her lover, each of whom
shared the desire to become Hokage, and each of whom died wearing this very
necklace. It took a boy in possession of an unshakable confidence and a dream
to be the best to restore her sundered spirit and give her the courage to
assume her role as the fifth of Konoha’s Hokages, a boy who would eventually
prove his worth and take up her mantle after her.
From the day he received it—nearly thirteen years ago—till now, he never
once took the necklace off, the crystal resting against his chest, over his
heart, a symbol of hope.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” He said quietly as Alex moved the crystal back and
forth, delighted. “Tsunade oba-chan gave it to me, and it’ll be yours someday,
when you’re old enough.”
Though he did not quite grasp the meaning of his father’s words, Alex sensed
the seriousness in his father’s tone, and lifted his face. Smiling, he pressed
his mouth to Naruto’s cheek in a wet kiss, and then burrowed close, the crystal
still clutched tight in one small hand.
Blinking away sudden tears, Naruto leaned back and began to rock steadily,
stroking Alex’s hair, so blonde as to be almost white. A carbon copy of his
father in everything but the eyes, the boy had also inherited Naruto’s
mischievous and stubborn nature; his fiery temper he got from his mother. ‘The
hellion’ had been his nickname since he was born, and he certainly lived up to
it; having learned how to walk recently, he exhibited an insatiable curiosity
that got him into all kinds of trouble, leaving a trail of debris in his wake
as he toddled from room to room if his parents lost track of him for even an
instant.
Fatherhood came as somewhat of a shock at first; a part of him knew it would
be a full-time job, much like being the Hokage, however the reality snuck up on
him like a thief in the night when they brought Alex home from the hospital a
day after his birth—In addition to his other duties, he had to add multiple
feedings and diaper changes to the repertoire, as well as ample amounts of
playtime—Alex loved to play, and Naruto, being a kid at heart, loved playing
with him. He supposed he made a good father, despite a few mishaps here and
there. Since he’d never known his own father, save the stories that had been
passed down through the years concerning his fierce loyalty to the village and
his bravery in battle, Naruto wanted to be as much a part of his son’s life as
he could. No child of his would experience the same pain as he, of that he was
certain. Alex was surrounded by people who loved him, people who would nurture
him, aid him through difficulty, celebrate with him in victory. In Naruto’s
eyes, that was the greatest gift he could give.
“We’re not doing so bad, are we?” he whispered to the sleeping child in his
arms. “Your mom and I may not have known what we were getting ourselves into,
but we figured it out eventually.” Burying his nose in that goose-down hair, he
inhaled the soft scent all babies seemed to exude, a warm, comforting scent.
“We waited so long for you, champ. You’re the little blessing we both dreamed
of, though we didn’t realize it then.”
In retrospect, there were many things they hadn’t realized as they stumbled
and blundered their way through the laying of the foundations that shaped their
relationship. Yes, there had been happiness, he could not deny that, yet the
appearance of cheerfulness could not drive away the grief that lurked in the
shadows, a beast lying in wait for the moment to strike, biding its time
patiently. It cast a dark cloud over their heads, driving them down, down,
down…as low as two people could sink.
But they always got back up. They were strong, he and his Sakura. They could
weather any obstacle, tear through any barrier, conquer any fear…
Though it still amazed him that they managed to fall in love—and stay that
way—at all. They were so similar in some aspects it was almost frightening, but
radically different in others. They both had convictions, flaws,
insecurities…however the amazing thing was, what easily could have torn them
apart only drew them closer together, made them lean on each other for comfort,
for support, for assurance…
For survival.
There was death in the air, a malignant creeper that
festered like rot, cankerous fingers stretched forth to spread decay over all,
discriminating against none. Many of Konoha’s bravest had met their end here,
on these plains that extended before the village they loved so dearly, an
endless expanse of grassland now littered with broken bodies, once green blades
stained red. This place would later be renamed the Crimson Field for the blood
that did not wash away no matter how often it rained, a final testament to the
dead.
Those who lived mustered up strength out of places it should not have been,
forced themselves to remain on their feet, the adage ‘never drop your weapon,’
racing through their minds as they fought with a savage resolve to take down
the enemy at all costs.
When a malevolent usurper threatens one’s homeland, a tyrannical force bent
on destroying the fiber of one’s existence, it is not uncommon for those under
siege to strike out with equal ferocity, the dormant ‘kill or be killed’
mentality rending its way through prior scruples that one may have harbored
against the slaughter of fellow human brethren, manifesting itself in the
unintelligible battle cries, the clash of steel against steel or bone or flesh,
the narrowed eyes as hard as agate, some haunted, some wild, some devoid of all
thought.
War changes people, for the better or for the worse; on the battlefield,
what you once were has no meaning, no relevance, no place. You are a soldier,
not a teacher, not a shopkeeper, not a husband or a wife or a child. Your order
is to kill your indifferent enemy, and you will kill, or become one of the
bloated carcasses strewn beneath the feet of your fellow soldiers.
Uzumaki Naruto and Haruno Sakura knew this. They had witnessed the deaths of
enough of their comrades to know that ideals were not a luxury they could
afford. And perhaps, had not the face of their former teammate been among the
ranks of their adversaries, those ideals would have proven easier to abandon.
“Shit,” Naruto growled as he swilled blood around in his mouth and spat. A
deep gash cut a track from one end of his chin to the other, his lip was puffy
and split, and a blow to cheek had opened the sensitive, pink tissue on the inside.
He stood with his hands braced on his knees, taking measured breaths. “Where
the hell did that little cocksucker go?”
Sakura hadn’t fared much better than he. A soaked bandage was wrapped around
her forehead, another around her right arm. Her clothes were battered and torn
in places, mementos of a brutal knife fight in which she emerged the victor.
Standing next to her blonde companion, she scanned the carnage with a critical
eye, face unreadable.
“Damned if I know,” she muttered, frustrated. “I shouldn’t have taken my
eyes off him!” One of her leather-covered hands she balled into a fist. Naruto
noticed.
“He’s gonna do what he’s gonna do, Sakura-chan,” he pointed out gently as he
straightened with a wince and rested a hand on her shoulder, “whether our eyes
are on him or not.”
“Good,” a deep, almost guttural voice rasped from behind them. “Now that you
understand, you can stop trying to save me.” He put stress on the word ‘save,’
so that it sounded like a vile thing, a sacrilege. “I spared the both of you
once. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten.” That corroded voice layered with
prolonged, barely contained madness dropped to a whisper. “When I made my
choice, I severed the ties that bound me to my weakness.” Feverish eyes shifted
from Sakura to Naruto. “I am no longer human. I cannot go back. Stay out of my
way.”
“Or what?” Sakura’s voice was a whip. “What the hell do you think we’ve
spent the past three years training for, you spineless bastard? D’you think
we’ll just sit here with our fingers up our asses while you pull this
bullshit?” She began to tremble, whether out of weakness or rage, she could not
distinguish. “How could you?” Furious tears pooled in her eyes. “Look at you!
How many of our people have you murdered? How is that supposed to make you
better than Itachi?”
The sounds of battle faded into the background, and for a brief moment,
utter silence reigned.
Naruto spared a glance at the altered form of his friend, a boy he once held
in such high esteem, a born prodigy who excelled in all he did, now reduced to
this…this thing, a wretched mockery of the former Sasuke. Though most of his
body was hidden beneath a black cloak, his face, amidst the shadows cast upon
it by a heavy cowl, was visible.
It was obvious the slow corruption that had begun when the last of the
Uchiha bloodline was branded with Orochimaru’s curse seal had not only spun a
twisted web in his mind, but mutated his features as well.
He was a creature out of legend, a vampire with skin so white as to be
transparent, sunken red eyes two glowing beacons that burned unnaturally
bright.
Though he tried to suppress it, Naruto could not shake the distinct
impression that Sasuke hadn’t exaggerated, that he really wasn’t human any
longer.
And then the revelation that he steadfastly refused to acknowledge for the
implications it carried emerged from the cage he’d locked it in.
“So this is your choice,” Naruto said, the silence broken. “This is what you
betrayed us for.” Of its own accord, his mouth quirked in an ironic grin. “And
here I thought I could beat some sense into you.” He shook his head. “What a
damned fool…”
Sakura looked at Naruto, his normally open, boyish face drawn in pain. No
physical wound could have caused the agony manifest in his features, the
anguish that sawed through his heart like a jagged blade.
She looked at Sasuke, no more than a shell of the boy she believed she
loved. The pain was there as well; she could see it, but not as clearly.
She looked inward, at herself, and the force of the phantom blow slammed
into her like a fist to the gut.
Kill or be killed. That was what it had come down to.
Sasuke had never intended to return. His only goal was to kill his brother,
even at the expense of his humanity…his soul…his redemption…
Kill or be killed.
Naruto and Sakura, determined to put an end to his downward spiral, were the
enemy, and Sasuke would stop at nothing to remove them from his path.
Kill or be killed.
“You knew this would happen,” Sasuke whispered. “In your heart, you knew. My
brother kept me alive to hate him, to destroy him.” His red eyes flared. “I am
an avenger. I have no future, no past, only today. Interfere, and I will not
show you mercy again.”
Naruto bared twin fangs, the whisker-like markings on his cheeks burning.
“Still as arrogant as ever, I see.” He swung his left leg back and extended the
right, feet planted firmly in the grass. With one hand, he beckoned to his
once-friend. “Piss on your mercy. It’s worthless. Now come.”
Sakura felt as though she had plummeted from reality into a nightmare. How
was it possible for one person to change so much in so short a time? The Sasuke
standing before them wasn’t the same Sasuke she fell in love with. She didn’t
know what he was…or maybe…maybe she did, and she couldn’t bear to admit it.
Every girl has a defining moment, when she steps out of childhood and
finally becomes a woman. Over the past three years, Sakura had grown into the
skin of a shinobi capable of holding her own in a fight, an accomplishment she
had always hoped for, but she had yet to acknowledge herself a woman.
Here, next to Naruto, who had already proven himself a man, she found the
strength to do what she must. He was always solid, Uzumaki Naruto, as
unwavering as a stone. She never did tell him that he had been her inspiration
when she trained doggedly under Tsunade’s guidance while he was with Jiraya,
that she judged the importance of each of her achievements based on how
impressed he would be.
It surprised her how often she thought of him during their time apart, how
much she missed his laughter and his crude sense of humor and his smiles. Ino
had been particularly astute in her observations, and often joked that parts of
Naruto must’ve rubbed off on the pink-haired girl. Sakura waved that off as a
load of bull at first, however now, she had a faint suspicion that Ino hadn’t
been too far off the mark.
Mirroring Naruto’s stance, she too beckoned Sasuke forward. “You’ve lost
hope, and I’ve lost faith in you. Only today, huh? So be it.”
Naruto fixed pride-filled eyes on her, his heart near to bursting, and she
gazed back, a small smile on her face.
Come what may, they would stand together.
Naruto tightened his grip on his son, one foot rocking the
chair back and forth. Until the end of his days, the image of Sasuke, deformed
by the curse seal and his lust for power, would be etched in his memory.
The Uchiha boy never did return to Konoha, and nobody could be sure of his
whereabouts. There were rumors, of course, claiming that, in a bout of madness,
he killed himself, or that he was living wild with the wolves off in the
mountains. Naruto doubted the plausibility of either, though he allowed the
villagers to think what they would. For whatever reason, he was wary of
disclosing the fact that Sasuke had succumbed to the curse seal and fled.
Despite his crimes, it seemed wrong to expose him to any more ridicule. Those
closest to him understood his decision, yet it was Sakura who voiced the
greatest objection.
“Why shouldn’t they know?” She had demanded, furious. “They have as much a
right to that information as we do!”
“Yes, but…try to see things from my perspective, Sakura. I know you’re still
angry and hurt, honey, trust me, so am I. It’s just…it hits too close to home.”
He pulled her into his arms, hid his face in her neck. “Don’t be upset with me,
please.”
“Oh Naruto,” she whispered, throat tight, and clung to him. “I’m sorry. I’m
not upset, not with you. I guess I wanted more closure than I got…you know?”
He knew. He’d said the same thing to himself.
“Must be how Kakashi feels about Obito,” he mused softly to Alex, who
stirred a bit, then drifted off again. “He lost him too soon, before they
really had a chance to be friends.”
The moon shined in through the window, and Naruto looked out at it, pensive.
“Don’t ever hold anything back, Alex. If you need to say something, say it,
don’t wait. Life’s short, and the last thing you want is spend it saddled with
regrets. If you love someone, tell them. I wouldn’t be where I am if your
mother wasn’t by my side.”
And it was true. He had come close to the breaking point so many times, but
Sakura was always there to hold his hand, lift him up.
Always.
They sat across from each other in the leather-lined booth,
surrounded by their friends, most of which were more than a little tipsy. To
celebrate the end of the War and Naruto’s ascension as Rokudaime, the whole
gang rallied together and dragged the new Hokage and his pink-haired
‘friend’—they all knew something was up between the two of them. Their
relationship was one of the worst kept secrets in the village—to a new karaoke
bar near the outskirts for the night.
Currently, Neji and Lee were serenading them with a rather horrendous
rendition of a popular rock-and-roll ballad while the others
multitasked—cheering for the tone-deaf duo and getting themselves considerably
drunker.
“Time for another round!” Kiba exploded as he slammed his empty mug on the
table.
“S’long as it’s on you,” Naruto slurred, grinning stupidly, “I’m all for
it.”
“What the hell?” Replied Kiba, jumping up from his seat to flag down a
bartender. “I’m feeling generous tonight.”
“And you’d better take advantage of that,” Shino snorted, face in his mug.
“He’s usually a scrooge when it comes to money.”
The Inuzuka boy smacked his teammate on the head. “Damn straight!” He said
with aplomb, and then spotted his unfortunate victim. “Oy! Pete! We need more
over here!”
Hinata watched him run off, rolling her eyes. She looked particularly
stunning tonight, her long, violet hair gathered at the nape of her neck by a
pin shaped like a hummingbird. She received plenty of appreciative glances from
members of the opposite sex, though she paid them no heed. She was betrothed,
after all, so it would be heartless of her to lead anyone on…at least, that’s
what she told herself.
“Between him,” she pointed at Kiba, “and that idiot,” she jerked her
thumb at Neji, “I feel like a damn babysitter. Boys never grow up, I swear.
They get stuck at one stage and stay there until someone gives ’em a good kick
in the balls.” She patted Shino hard on the back, since Kiba’s smack had made
him choke. “You okay there, hon?”
“Yeah,” Shino managed to wheeze. “Thanks.”
Ino, Sakura, and Tenten, the only other females in their group, rolled in
their seats, howling. Ever since Hinata took control of her shyness and began
to assert herself more often, her wicked sense of humor had emerged as well,
and most of the time, she had them all in stitches with the things that came
out of her mouth.
“It’s the truth though, isn’t it?” Sakura looked pointedly at Kakashi, who
had been coerced, along with Gaara, the spymaster of Onyx, the new spy network
that linked the Sand and the Leaf, to come along. “Anko’s told me plenty of
stories about you—”
“All of which were fabricated, I’ll have you know,” the silvery-haired
Jounin interjected before his former pupil had the chance to elaborate. “She
has a tendency to blow things out of proportion where I’m concerned, I’ve
noticed.”
Gaara snickered. The Sand-nin, now that Onyx was established and underway,
had been spending enough time with this group of people to be able to claim he
knew them fairly well, and, being a good observer, he often made astute cracks
of his own. “I wonder why that is,” he mused out loud, crossing his arms behind
his head. “I mean, people who leave their underwear strewn all over the house
when their wives are pregnant and emotional have no reason to be poked fun at,
do they?”
Kakashi stared at him, a slow flush creeping up his cheeks while the others
had a laugh at his expense. “How the hell did you find out about that?”
He demanded, incredulous.
“You forget, Hatake,” the redhead began deprecatingly, as if he were
explaining something simple to a toddler, “I’m a spy. It’s my job to ferret out
top-secret information.”
Though he himself was already on the other side of tipsy, Kakashi’s
reasoning skills hadn’t quite deteriorated to the point where he could not make
a sound deduction. “So…you…you’re telling me you have…informants…in my house?”
Gaara’s answering smile was feral. “I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“In my house? Who?”
“Who, indeed? Trade secret, you understand. Classified.”
“Clever. Very clever,” Shikamaru complimented, giving the spymaster a wobbly
clap on the shoulder.
Ino, who sat next to the pony tailed Jounin, gave him an arch look. “I’m not
carrying you home,” she informed him as she took a sip of her modest strawberry
daiquiri, “so I’d advise you to think twice about drinking any more, or you’ll
be crawling.”
Between mouthfuls of French fries, Choji guffawed. “He’s always been a
lightweight, hasn’t he?”
“Oh…piss off,” Shikamaru retorted, and, almost in defiance, took a long swig
of beer. “I can handle myself just fine, thanks.”
“We’ll see,” Ino said ominously.
An explosive round of applause and catcalls signaled the conclusion of Neji
and Lee’s performance, and the two swaggered back to the table, both wearing
self-congratulatory expressions. Kiba followed not too far behind, juggling as
many full mugs as he could without spilling.
“Have we had a toast yet?” Tenten asked once the mugs had been distributed
and everyone was settled.
Sakura stole a glance at Naruto. While his face was a little flushed from
the alcohol and he appeared happy, she detected a faint hint of melancholy, one
that would not be recognizable to anyone who didn’t know him as well as she.
It worried her.
This was supposed to be his time. Hadn’t their friends gone through the
trouble to get them here so they could honor his achievement? After years of
perseverance and training and heartache, Naruto finally reaped the reward of
all his hard work, made them all proud to be acquainted with him, to serve
under him, to entrust him with their lives and the lives of their families…
He made the unattainable dream a reality. He went from an awkward boy with
no talent to the most powerful shinobi Konoha could boast, Hokage.
He should have been elated, and yet…something was wrong.
“No, as a matter of fact, we haven’t,” she replied, eyes still fixed on
Naruto. Raising her glass, she waited for the others to follow suit. “To
Rokudaime Hokage. May all the days of his guidance be prosperous.”
“Rokudaime Hokage!” Nine voices in various degrees of drunkenness echoed.
“Thanks, guys,” Naruto said sincerely as he looked around at the faces of
the friends who had all come together for him…all but one. “It really means a
lot to me.”
“Oh-ho! We’ve got a crier!” Kiba pointed at Naruto, which invited a deluge
of one-armed bear hugs and all manner of jibes directed at the blonde young man’s
sensitivity.
The rest of the night passed in a blurry haze; the last half of the party
might as well have not happened at all, from what Naruto remembered of it. The
only thing he did recall with any semblance of clarity was Sakura’s arm locked
securely about his waist as she led him home.
“You’re really great, Sakura-chan,” he told her, eyes over bright. “I
appr…appre…”
“Appreciate?” she offered gently.
“Yeah. That. See? You helped me again. You’re so helpful.” He leaned his
head on her shoulder while she fumbled with the keys to his front door, and she
paused a moment, her heart skipping a beat.
“What do you mean by that?” She inquired in a voice she hoped did not
tremble. She could not exactly pinpoint the moment their relationship had begun
to change, but it had nonetheless, and she knew it had. The prospect of seeing
Naruto as anything other than a good friend had frightened, even repulsed her
at first, yet time had begun to redefine her opinion. She was well aware that
what she shared with Naruto many of her friends would give anything to have, a
bond so deep it went beyond words.
One could search forever for something like this, for someone like him, and
she didn’t even have to travel the ends of the earth to look.
He’d always been there.
“Hmm?” His sleepy murmur drew her attention back.
The lock gave an audible click as she turned the key, and she swung the door
open, maneuvering them both into the foyer. “How have I helped you before?” She
rephrased the question, leading him up the stairs one step at a time.
“Oh. That’s easy,” Naruto said matter-of-factly. “I think of you when I go
up against something bigger than me.” He smiled, eyes half-lidded. “That’s how
I became Hokage.”
He’s drunk, she reminded herself once they cleared the stairs. He’ll
probably forget he said that in the morning…
But the significance of his words resonated within her heart all the same.
Even when sober, Naruto was the type of person to speak his mind without
hesitation, so this slip of the tongue, if that was really what it was, still
meant something.
Lost in thought, she almost missed him speak again.
“Will you stay with me, Sakura-chan?”
“What?”
“Stay. I don’t want to be alone.”
They made it to his bedroom. Her hand groped along the wall for the light switch,
and when she found it, she flicked it on. A soft, warm light bathed the room,
and she took a closer look at her companion. He had lifted his head to stare
back at her, and she saw the tiny tears that trickled from his eyes and down
his face like crystal rain.
Her chest became so tight she could barely breathe. Sakura hated to see him
cry. She always felt like a monster when he cried, even if she had nothing to
do with it. He had cried enough as a child. He shouldn’t have to cry anymore.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took his hand and led him to his bed,
where they sat cross-legged, forehead-to-forehead.
“I thought you were upset before,” she admitted. “Do you want to tell me
why?”
The Hokage closed his eyes, silent for a moment, and then opened them again.
“I miss him, Sakura-chan,” he whispered. “He should’ve been there…everyone was
there except him…” Without warning, he sank down against her and began to sob,
arms wrapped around her middle, his head in her lap.
Heartsick, Sakura allowed him to cling to her while she stroked his hair,
rubbed his back, told him everything would be all right.
You never gave a rat’s ass about any of us or you wouldn’t have done what
you did, Sasuke. If you cared at all, you wouldn’t have gone, knowing how much
it would hurt us in the future…
“I miss him too,” she said softly, mouth near Naruto’s ear. “And there isn’t
a day that goes by when I don’t wish we could’ve forced him to see he was
wrong…but don’t beat yourself up over it, fox. That’s what this is really about,
isn’t it?” Her fingers traced the whisker marks on his cheek, and his sobs
began to taper off.
“You know me too well,” he conceded eventually in a watery voice.
The pink-haired girl smiled. “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
She could feel the corners of his mouth turn up against her skin. “Yeah.”
Deciding that she wanted to see his face, she made him shift a bit so that
he was lying on his back looking up at her. He had the appearance of someone
who had been crying, eyes red and puffy and bloodshot, but there was something
strangely adorable in the childlike way he regarded her, as if she were his
champion, his hero, the person he trusted most in the world.
In that instant, she would have done anything for him.
“Listen to me,” she said seriously, “there is nothing we could have done.
Nothing. He didn’t want to come back, so he didn’t. Sasuke was so consumed by
revenge that he allowed it to own him. He set himself up to be destroyed. But
even though he became an enemy, you still had compassion for him. You still
loved him like a brother. That’s what sets you apart from the average person,
Naruto. That’s why he failed and you succeeded.” Bending over, she kissed his
forehead. “What’s done is done. If I’ve learned anything, it’s move forward,
don’t look back. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Live it.”
For a long time, Naruto did not say anything, merely watched her, their
hands twined together.
“You did it again.”
“Mmm?”
With some effort, he sat up, brushed a long piece of bang away from her mouth,
and pressed his lips to hers.
“You helped me.”
Unable to stop herself, she laughed.
“Good. I like helping people.”
Satisfied, Naruto returned to his previous inquiry. “Will you stay?”
“I’ll stay.”
And she did.
Sakura knew her husband said he would take care of the baby,
and for a while,she lie with her eyes closed, attempting to fall back to sleep,
but she gave up after about an hour. Since Naruto hadn’t returned, she decided
to see for herself what was up.
Poking her head into Alex’s room, she saw her husband sitting in the rocking
chair with the baby nestled in his arms, and her heart melted. It always gave
her a little thrill to watch the two of them interact with each other, made her
all the more positive that this was the life she was meant to have, this man
the father of her child and the person she was destined for.
“Fox?”
Naruto glanced over his shoulder. “Hey babe.”
She moved into the room and kneeled next to the chair. “Look at him,” she murmured,
eyes soft as she ran her hand up and down the baby’s back. “He’s the sweetest
little thing, isn’t he?” Alex’s eyes opened, and he regarded his mother
drowsily.
“Ma,” he murmured.
Naruto grinned. “He’s wiped out. Hopefully he’ll stay that way until
morning.” Rising from the chair, he went to Alex’s crib and set him down,
though not before gently prying Tsunade’s crystal out of his hand. “Night,
champ.” He stepped aside so Sakura could kiss their son, and then,
hand-in-hand, they left.
“Was he being fussy?” she wanted to know.
“Nah, just talkative. I started thinking about…certain things, so I was in
there longer than I expected,” he explained. When they reached their bedroom,
Naruto crawled into bed first, and motioned for her to join him. “I’ll play
pillow tonight,” he said innocently, as if he was making a very generous offer,
but Sakura saw through the ruse.
“You were leering at me earlier, weren’t you?” She accused, and, well aware
that it would drive him positively wild, she rested one foot on the edge of the
bed, revealing the long, glorious leg that went with it. “So tragic,” she
sighed dramatically, batting her eyelashes, “my husband has the makings of
another Jiraya…”
Vixen. You’re playing dirty. I can do that too, ya know. “Only in
some respects, my dear,” Naruto said in a silky voice, and, because all is fair
in love and war, grabbed her leg and yanked, which produced the desired effect:
she had nowhere else to land but on top of him. “I do have somewhat of a roving
eye, but I reserve it for only one particular female. Jiraya isn’t as
exclusive.”
Sakura would have liked to argue, however she could not seem to think of a
relevant reason for refusing the much-appreciated attention. Naruto had counted
on that, of course, the bastard. He knew how much she loved it when his
callused fingers danced across her skin, knew that the dip in the underside of
the knee was one of the most sensitive areas of her body, knew that when he
told her she was the embodiment of his every erotic fantasy, she would become
putty in his grasp.
While the advantages he had over her were distinctly unfair, she was not
left without her own over him; it all depended on who utilized them the
fastest.
It appeared as though he had won this round.
Well, no matter. It wasn’t as if Sakura’s nightie provided much cover,
anyway, and she never did enjoy wearing clothes at night in the summer.
“I need a shower,” she complained half-heartedly in the aftermath, head
against Naruto’s firm chest. “I’m all sweaty.”
“Whine, whine, whine,” Naruto teased, voice sated. “You can take a shower
later, princess.”
“Princess?” She lifted her chin to scowl at him. “Humph. Some prince
I’ve got.”
He smirked lazily. “You seemed to find me tolerable a few minutes ago.”
“That was a few minutes ago.”
“Fickle.”
“Maybe.”
Naruto laughed. “I love
you.”
“Yes, I know,” Sakura
replied impishly, and then her expression became serious. “What were those
things you were thinking about?”
The blonde young man chewed
on his lip. “Sasuke,” he said honestly. “And…how lucky we are to have Alex.” His
eyes found hers. “How lucky I am to have you.”
Inching up a bit further,
Sakura kissed his nose. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, rolling
them over onto their sides. His hand lingered near her mouth. “Some of it was
painful to remember, but…aw, hell, Sakura, we have a damn good life.”
“We do,” she agreed,
kissing his fingers.
“No regrets, right?”
She knew what he needed to
hear, that she would be answering for the both of them. Yes, they had their ups
and their downs, and they made mistakes, but that was all a part of the cycle,
part of being human. They did have a good life, and she could reply with
a clear conscience.
“No. No regrets.”
I love
Naru/Saku...best Naruto pairing ever...:gushes: As you can see, I've been
trying to fill in parts of their past the way I envision them in the timeline
I've created, and this is just another piece of the puzzle (if you've read
Petals and Burn, for example, you'll understand what I'm talking about).
Oh, and I did switch from
past to present in there twice, but I put in page breaks, so I hope it wasn't
too confusing...anyway, let me know what you think!
Thought I'd add in a little
note-ish thing. Alex has been Alex since the day I...er...thought of him, and
that's just the way it is. I explained it a little bit in Burn (they named him
Alex because it was a foreign name, and they thought it would suit him), and I
just can't see Naruto and Sakura doing things the conventional way, don't 'y
know. Hee-hee!