Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Walking down the last flight of stairs, Sasuke really had to consider his life choices. His muscles screamed at him to just stop moving, and threatened to cease functioning all together on numerous occasions as he made his way to the exit. Basketball had been a pain in every body part he knew of and then some, and it was only by some small miracle that it happened to be a Friday. His body was already in the process of readying itself for a long evening of doing absolutely nothing, and he couldn’t wait to get officially started.

Few students lingered here and there in the halls, probably fishing out the last of their things for the long weekend. Most of the teachers already high-tailed it out of the building, wanting nothing more than to be free from the wretched campus. Stormy grey skies promised a raging storm later that night, if the thundering black clouds rolling towards the city were anything to go by. Adjusting the grip on his shoulder bag, Sasuke trotted down the last few flights of stairs with the high hopes of relaxing all evening.

“Sasuke! Wait up!”

Sasuke, in fact, did not ‘wait up’. He had half the mind to walk faster and blatantly ignore the soon-to-be nuisance jogging to catch up to him. He tried his best to be nonchalant, but nobody in the near vicinity could’ve ignored the shrill cry of his name. He braced himself for the inevitable, as persistence was this person’s strong suits. No matter what she did, she did it with determination. Even if that meant getting rejected over and over again. Persistence was a good quality to have; in any other circumstance besides this one.

Never one to disappoint, Sakura bounded next to him, cheeks dusted with a light pink and short hair bouncing with each step. The vibrant shade of pink always an eyesore in his mind. It was an onslaught of the colour that made her hard to ignore. For as long as Sasuke knew her, Sakura possessed the same colour of hair. He actually never even saw her real hair colour (it was kind of scary; her roots never changed either. Sasuke seriously considered the colour to be natural)

The girl didn’t seem to notice his disdain; either that or she was simply too deep in her bubbly personality to care.

Don’t get him wrong. He didn’t hate Haruno. There was very little to dislike about her. She was smart, helpful, and strong (both physically and elsewhere, if he remembered the horrific bruise Sakura had given the boy who harassed her after school a few years back). She was also easy on the eye. She was everything a guy would want in a lady. Unfortunately for her, Sasuke was not that guy.

“Just got off from basketball? I think I saw Hinata waiting for Neji back in the parking lot.” She stated. Neji was in his basketball team, not that he was going to say it out loud. The only reason Sakura would still be on campus would be because she either had soccer practice or was coming back from that weird kick-boxing club. Sasuke could care less.

“Anyways, I don’t want to bother you,” She was doing a terrific job with that, “but I was wondering if you would want to hang out this weekend? Chouji and Ino are setting up a get together at his place?” She asked, and her green eyes practically shone with hope. He honestly didn’t hate Haruno, but the one thing that made her so overbearing was her obvious affection towards him. She confessed countless times, and Sasuke was starting to get the idea that she liked being turned down. She was a nice girl, and everything Sasuke was not looking for.

He settled on a curt ‘sorry, can’t, I’m busy’ that led her shining green eyes to dull a bit. But one of her many redeeming qualities was how she was self-reliant. She didn’t stay hung up on someone or something for too long. That, Sasuke would admit, was a relief. She brightened up, nodded, and left him at the double doors of the main entrance with extra room to breathe.

That was one problem out the window.

He savoured the last wisps of warmth the building supplied, sucking in one last breath before entering the domain of raging cold winds and crisp pre-winter air. It stung his lungs and bit his cheeks, and sent relentless shivers down his spine. The storm hadn’t even hit yet, and the wind was already tearing him to shreds. He steeled his nerves, stuffing his hands further into his pockets and burying his nose into his scarf. It was times like these that he hated not having a car to drive (he did have a car, but his license had been temporarily suspended, for ‘speeding’. What a bunch of bullshit). He pushed forward, knowing that standing still would only elongate his suffering unnecessarily. The chill reminded him of the fish he had left to defrost on his countertop, and made the responsible decision to go and make something easier, like a sandwich instead. He had the feeling that by the time he got to his apartment, his resolve would be close to diminished, and he would want nothing more than to just ‘do nothing’.

Sasuke watched his breath leave his mouth in thin, white wisps swirling up before disappearing into the white sky. It was going to be a harsh storm, and it was also going to be his excuse as to why he refused to leave his apartment.

His route was imbedded into his system, and his legs moved on autopilot. He surveyed the shops and bustling streets around him half-heartedly, taking in the rushed footsteps and flashing lights. A lot of dine-ins were flowing with people gracious for a protective cover away from the harsh winds, and Sasuke couldn’t blame them. This storm was going to be a big one. It was winter’s grand entrance.

The sign before him flashed green, and he walked past the lineup of cars waiting at the intersection. Such a mundane task, and it would have been so unnecessary if his damn license wasn’t suspended. He blamed Itachi for it; the older Uchiha was the one who egged him into beating Suigestu and Kisame to the grocery store by speeding. Sasuke refused to acknowledge that he fell for it. He was merely pressing the gas pedal too hard.

With one final turn, and with legs that felt like popsicles, Sasuke’s apartment complex came into view. A boring building mostly occupied by college students not living with their parents. The cheapest and closest housing facility to the campus. It really was convenient, being a twenty-minute walk. It wouldn’t have to be a walk if he had a damn car-

He stopped before the thick glass doors, eyes narrowed, his hand frozen midair. He strained his ears against the whistling wind. He couldn’t have imagined it. He knew the sound all too well.

He listened.

There it was again.

He wasn’t imagining it then. He could clearly hear it now that he was focusing on it. The sound of a scuffle.

Now, in all honesty, Sasuke could simply ignore whatever happened to be going to in the alley beside his apartment. He really could. He could simply walk into the building and forget ever hearing the sound of… crying? He wasn’t too sure. Whatever it was, Sasuke would’ve totally ignored it, had the kid not pulled a knife out.

They were, in fact, a bunch of kids. And Sasuke was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to have a knife. Because a group of kids fighting and a knife was never a good combination. Best case scenario was someone would be nursing stab wounds for the night.

Sasuke knew for a fact what the worst-case scenario could be.

He yelled, mustering every ounce of rage (he had a lot in storage) into his glare as he swore and bluffed his way out of a fight. He startled the kids good, and when they saw his clear height advantage, they scattered like rats. The one with the weapon had the broken nerve to just drop his knife altogether, booking it as fast as his scrawny legs could take him. Sasuke let out a breath, thanking the lord that he didn’t have to nurse stab wounds that evening. They were always such a pain to deal with, even after all his experience. Sasuke bent down to pick up the blade, slightly impressed at the polished state of the knife. It had a kind owner. Sasuke could commend good knife care. He pocketed it (it was best not to let such a find go to waste).

He turned to the object of the boy’s entertainment, and sighed again when he realized it was a smaller kid. He didn’t seem to be dead, if the way his eyes widened and he scrambled up had anything to go by. In the dull lighting of the shadowed alley, Sasuke could make out messy brown hair and blue eyes. The kid was filthy, which prompted the realization that he was probably a street kid. What a pity. The child stood on shaky legs, regaining his strength before messily bowing by the waist.

“Thank you, sir!” he squeaked, and Sasuke, for the life of him, could not help but give back a small ‘you’re welcome’. He wasn’t a monster, or well, internally he wasn’t. He had ‘manners’, and knew how to reply to a simple ‘thank you’.

“Where are your parents?” he asked, because he also knew that where there was a child, there was probably some kind of guardian too.

Or not, judging by how the kid cheerfully told him that he lived on his own. In this very alley. Sasuke could vaguely make out a dirty pile of rags sitting in the corner, shielded by a large metal plate.

Okay, cool. He could totally walk away now, giving the kid his uneaten apple as a token of parting. Totally. Because he could totally sleep at night knowing this kid would most likely freeze to death. He would go home, eat his soon-to-be-made sandwich and sit in a warm bed reading his favourite novel before snuggling up in soft blankets with the tell-tale promise of a life in the morning. Except now he had to add the fact that his sleep would be chased away with the knowledge that comes ratty kid was dying beside his apartment, and it was times like these that he despised having a functioning conscience.

Itachi would have given him a pat on the head for this.

The kid was giving him a questioning look, and Sasuke realized he’d been glaring at him for a solid minute. Curse his inability to think with a passive face. (he had a lot of rage in storage).

“There’s a storm coming.” He began slowly, and then kicked himself because obviously this kid would already know that. It was freezing outside. The brunette nodded anyways, a frown dancing on his face.

“It’s going to get really cold.” That’s it, just keep describing his inevitable death for him. The kid nodded again, more downtrodden then before.

Sasuke was going to regret this. He kept telling himself to just walk away. Walk away because he couldn’t just help every orphan out there. This child just happened to run into him. There were countless people in his position. Sasuke kept telling himself that this kid probably knew what he was doing.

But seeing an orphan after being orphaned? Somehow it made the urge to protect the child from things he’s already experienced that much stronger. Sasuke was no older sibling; that was Itachi’s forte, but he did know how it felt like to sleep in the cold. Granted, it was a sheltered cold, but cold none-the-less. If Sasuke could keep this kid warm, even if it was just until the storm blew off, it would be enough to leave him feeling light for weeks.

So, he steeled his resolve and sighed, telling himself that it was a deed worth doing. Who knows, maybe it’ll come back at him later in life when he needs it most.

“So, I’ll let you stay with me until the storm-“

“Really?!” Ahh, his eardrums have been penetrated and destroyed. This is a good idea. This is a good idea. This is a good idea. (please be a good idea).

The child bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes shining and giving Sasuke a full-toothed smile. Sasuke himself was surprised to find the kid had clean teeth. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as far gone as he initially thought. Sasuke nodded wordlessly, rethinking his life choices as he watched the brunette vibrate with excitement, and then berated himself as the onslaught of words poured out of his tiny body and hit Sasuke faster then he could process them.

“You mean it!? You’re not joking? You’re actually gonna’ let me stay! You’re not gonna’ kick me out or anythin’? Oh wow, do you let any kid into your house? You must be really nice. Hey hey, how much do you w’nt?”

At the pause, Sasuke realized this question needed a response, and he raised his eyebrow.

“How much do I want of what?”

“R’nt.” … oh, he was referring to rent.

Sasuke backtracked. Right, because this wasn’t a normal, standard kid. Who was he kidding, thinking he could wordlessly plop a filthy street child into his apartment for the weekend and expect it to go as smoothly as if it were Itachi visiting? Of course, there would be mishaps like this one. Where this kid would mistake genuine kindness (he kept telling himself that he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he left this kid to die beside his apartment, because really, he rather liked his undisturbed sleep) for a favour he needed to repay. Sasuke would know, he’s been in this kid’s ratty shoes. His conscience chose a great time to gather the pathetically small wisps of empathy scattered around his soul and bunch it together, waving it around proudly.

“You don’t have to pay me back.”

“I ‘can’! Don’t think I c’n’t!” The kid cried in indignation. Indignation. As if Sasuke was ‘pitying’ him. Sasuke didn’t do pity. Pity was an evil thing that festered in the recesses of an untrained mind and blurred the lines between right and wrong. The moment someone started pitying someone else, the truth of the situation became unclear, and any positive traits became shadowed by unfortunate circumstances. Sasuke didn’t do pity.

“You probably could. But I don’t want it.”

“I gotta’ pay you back somehow.” The brunette drawled, as if it was the simplest concept in the world and Sasuke was just too dull to realize it. He sighed. This kid was unrelenting. It was already draining the last of his flimsy strength.

“If you want to pay me back that bad, then you can help me work and clean up.”

“But-“

“No.”

The kid pouted, but obediently shut his mouth as they reached the heavy double doors of his apartment complex. Opening them and stepping inside instantly resulted in being embraced in the warmth that was the functioning heating system. Upon being swathed in a stronger light, Sasuke realized the kid’s hair was a lighter shade of brown then he originally thought. The brunette gave a long sigh, a shiver wracking up his tiny form. Sasuke suppressed the shiver crawling up his own spine.

Punching in his code, Sasuke led them to the long flight of stairs, only to double back and head for the elevator. He was in no mood to climb the five flights of unforgiving steps, nor did he think the child he was hauling back home wanted to either. It was a quicker process too; stepping in, pressing his floor (the fourth floor, not that it stopped Itachi from being able to climb through his window when he locked the door), step out, and head for his door. The quite presence of the orphan child a constant shadow to his movements.

Upon entering, Sasuke threw his bag on the kitchen counter, watching the kid wipe his sorry-looking sneakers on the mat outside before rubbing his feet on the mat inside. He had good manners at least. Sasuke was taken aback at the fact that in his room’s white light, the boy’s hair appeared even lighter than when they were in the lobby. His skin was marred with dirt and (Sasuke hoped it wasn’t blood) Lord-knows what else. He still let out a breathy chuckle as he surveyed his new surroundings.

Sasuke bit back the surging thoughts surfacing through his control, slipping past the cracks of his mind and splintering small bits of realization into him. He brought a street kid into his apartment. What was he thinking? A. Street. Kid. Some orphan with wretched clothing and probably infested with disease. (That was stereotypical and childish, to think all homeless people were bathed in diseases, but in light of his kind actions towards this unfortunate soul, Sasuke granted himself leeway to such arrogant thoughts). The child checked his feet one more time before padding after Sasuke, who now stood at his kitchen counter with not two slices of bread for one sandwich, but four. He was relieved when no visible marks appeared as dirty footprints on the hardwood floor. The kid (he still had to get a name; good Lord, when did Sasuke become so sporadic in his decisions?) stood obediently by his side, rolling on the balls of his feet and wringing his hands together. (Normally he considered the consequences of his actions. What happened to him?)

(A lot)

“Uhm, what c’n I do?” The brunette asked, and Sasuke picked up on how the boy mushed together his n’s. He continued watching in fascination as Sasuke neatly cut the cheese into immaculate slices. He gave his new regret a once over before going back to his task.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m Naruto Uzumaki!” The child -Naruto- exclaimed loudly, then calmed his eagerness down when Sasuke didn’t comment. “What’s yours?”

“Sasuke.” Then after a pause, “Uchiha.”

Silence enveloped the duo, and Sasuke assumed Naruto was content with his answer, and naively thought he would continue to stand without uttering a single word and make himself sparse. (He constantly forgets that not all children were like him). He knew the few seconds of quiet was too good to be true. Naruto just needed time to formulate another question. Sasuke already felt drained, and it had hardly been an hour.

“So, what c’n I help with, Sasuke-san?”

“Just Sasuke is fine.”

“Okay… so what c’n I do?”

Think. Think. He was top of all his classes with shining scores most could only dream of. Why couldn’t he come up with something to preoccupy a kid while he made his impromptu dinner?

“Go wash your hands over there. Left is for cold; right is for hot.” He finally stated, and nodded to his sink. From his peripheral vision, he watched Naruto scamper over and reach up (on the tips of his toes; Sasuke never realized just how tiny the kid was), and tugged the two nobs on. Deeming Naruto responsible enough to wash his own hands, Sasuke went back to finishing up with the cheese, and only turned from buttering the toast when he felt a tug on his pant.

Naruto proudly presented his clean hands, and Sasuke felt his mind short-circuited.

His hands were clean, yes. But a clear-cut line could be seen running around the middle of his forearm, which separated the new clean skin with the dirt-covered flesh. It was like running a finger through the gathered dust on a car and watching the colour shine through. It was shocking, because Naruto hadn’t initially looked that bad. Sasuke berated himself for not having seen this coming and shook himself out of his stupor. If Naruto was here, Sasuke might as well do he kid another favour. It would tip the scale between his deeds, and Sasuke needed the boost.

He looked back to the half-made sandwiches, then to Naruto’s hands, then thought of how soup didn’t sound too bad.

“Change of plans.” Sasuke started, dropping his supplies and walking into the main space which connected to the bathroom. He didn’t say anything, but he heard Naruto follow silently.

“Go take a shower.”

Naruto’s eyes instantly shone at the prospect of cleaning himself, and Sasuke could tell this next decision was going to be a good one. No self-doubt. He knew what he was doing. At least, he was quite sure he did until Naruto dimmed, shoulders dropping an inch when his excitement fizzled out. Sasuke let the boy mull over his next thoughts, instead opting to grab a spare towel and lower the bottles of shampoo and soap. Naruto was short, and therefore everything had to be put near his height level, lest he wanted an accident to happen.

Sasuke prayed the boy knew how to take showers by himself, because Sasuke was not looking forward to having to wash the strange kid. He barely even knew his name up until ten minutes ago.

“Uhm, I dun’ wanna’ dirty your bathroom.” Naruto finally managed to spit out when Sasuke found his ‘all-in-one' shampoo. It was simpler to just have one option. He got up and stared down at the kid, raising an eyebrow when he guiltily looked away. He can’t be that dirty. His skin was only marred with dirt and grime in a few places, and his hair was fairly even in its shade of light brown.

“That’s what bathrooms are for. Now, do you know how to do it by yourself?” Sasuke asked, gesturing to the tub behind him. Naruto hesitated once more, (apparently, he wasn’t the only one to have inner monologues) before determination set in his bright blue eyes, and he nodded vigorously, topping it off with a clipped ‘yes!’.

Sasuke nodded, less enthusiastically, and left the bathroom, keeping the door open by a crack in case something went wrong.

Now for the soup.

.             .             .

The sound of the shower stopping was what prompted Sasuke to abandon the simmering soup in favour of finding Naruto something to wear. His clothes had been beyond pitiful, and now that he was (hopefully) clean, he’d probably want to wear something clean as well.

He dug through the dark recesses of his closet, pulling out the smallest box sitting at the very back. Pulling it out was difficult as it was stuck between his dirty clothes and weighed down by years of memories threatening to engulf him. Setting it down on his bed, Sasuke sifted through the articles of clothing, wrinkling his nose when he found, at the very bottom, sweaters with his family crest stitched into the fabric. The deeper he reached, the deeper he dove into flashbacks he long ago suppressed (he liked to think he did, anyway). When the suffocating feeling reached his chest and burned his eyes, Sasuke snatched a blue sweater (he ignored the neatly sown red and white fan. He liked to forget that it was sown by his…

It’s best to continue not to think about it).

Knocking lightly on the door, he watched Naruto peak out from behind the door, Sasuke’s towel swamping Naruto’s tiny frame.

Sasuke blanched.

He was met with blonde hair.

Naruto’s hair was blonde.

Blonde.

It took all of Sasuke’s will power and then some not to just close the door and reopen it, believing this to be some magic that changed the kid’s hair. Because there was no way that dirt could hide such… bright, obnoxiously blonde hair.

Naruto’s had done a good job scrubbing himself clean, revealing unmarred, sun-kissed skin with weird lines on either cheek (probably some birthmark, hopefully not some scars) and his bright blonde hair. Sasuke stole a glance towards his shower, and grimaced when he saw wet pools of dirt and grime and lord-knows what else sitting at the bottom and gurgling in the drain. That was going to be a pain to clean up later. Guess his own shower would have to wait. This was a good idea. This was a good idea. (please, please be a good idea. Sasuke didn’t know what he’d do if this didn’t happen to be a good idea).

But he kept telling himself that it was going to be worth it. Because good deeds were rewarded. It was for the best. 20 years down the road Sasuke will look at back at the mess that was his thinking process and say, ‘damn, I was such a good soul.’

(Realistically, he’s be dead in 20 years, but who was paying attention to details).

Naruto glanced around the bathroom, grinning when he saw Sasuke eye the crudely drawn, melting smiley face in the fogged-up mirror. Sasuke resisted the urge to rub it away.

The blonde (Sasuke couldn’t believe he was blonde) continued to look around, a frown dancing on his lips.

“Where’re my clothes?”

“They need to be washed too, so you can wear these instead.” Sasuke explained, surprised he managed to hide his exhaustion from his voice. Itachi would be proud.

Naruto brightened up, taking the clothes and practically yelling ‘thank you’ before dashing back inside and closing the door. The Uchiha sighed, going back to the kitchen to take the soup off the heat and set up not one, but two bowls on his bar table.

Naruto came hobbling in, and Sasuke snorted at the sight. He didn’t take into account how tiny the blonde would be. The shorts he was given him reached down past his knees, resting on his shins, and Sasuke knew that the only reason they were still on was because Naruto was holding them up. The half-sleeved sweater looked like a coat, with the hem reaching his knees and tripping him when he tried to take a step. It was so ridiculous, yet Naruto beamed at him when he saw Sasuke.

Okay… He could work with this.

Sasuke guided Naruto (who wobbled behind him like a penguin) to his bedroom, shuffling through the contents of his drawer before producing a couple of clips and hair ties (courtesy of Itachi leaving his shit whenever he visited).

Turning Naruto around, Sasuke got to the task of bunching up the extra fabric (and there was a lot of extra fabric) and the bottom of the sweater and tying it up into a ball. Then he folded the waistline of the tiniest shorts he owned and pinning it together so it wouldn’t fall off. Turning back, Naruto still looked like a penguin, but at least now he could walk. The blonde bowed by the waist and thanked him for every small favour he’d done so far. A small flicker in the deepest crevices of his soul gave a small, undetectable smile.

.             .             .

It was when they finished cleaning all the dishes after dinner (Naruto insisted on helping, going on and on about this being his way of paying Sasuke back), that Sasuke realized he had no idea what to do from there. There was still a handful of hours before Sasuke would drift off to bed, and he hadn’t the slightest clue what to do with the blonde currently inspecting his dying potted plant. He hadn’t even come up with a plan as to where he’d let Naruto sleep.

The sofa was always an option, but did Sasuke really want some practically random child to sleep in his living room out of Sasuke’s sight? Of course, Sasuke could always just give the bed to Naruto and sleep on the sofa himself, but fitting himself on the sofa and sleeping in it all night gave him the vague foretelling of future back pains if he did. That problem, of course, was a problem for his future self. Right now, Sasuke needed something to distract the blonde.

“Hey Naruto.” The Uchiha called, and the blonde obediently trotted to him, abandoning his conversation with his dying plotted plant. He forgot how weird kids could be.

“How old are you?”

“M’ seven.”

Okay, seven. That meant he’d be in second or third grade. Sasuke didn’t know squat about either, but he was aware they at least knew how to read simple sentences. Maybe he could pull out some child book on his laptop.

“You want to read something?” Sasuke asked, already sitting down and reaching for his laptop. When he received no reply, he looked up, only to be met with the saddest blue eyes he’s ever seen. He felt like he just stomped all over a sunflower.

“I c’n’t read.”

Sasuke mentally berated himself, and sighed. He had to fix this.

“Do you… want me to read to you?”

That sunflower he crushed? He’s watering it now.

“Yes please!”

Sasuke patted the spot beside him on the sofa when Naruto showed no signs of doing so himself, and opened up his novel while the boy adjusted himself. Did young children enjoy lengthy ninja chronicles? They do now. He chose to continue where he left off, finding Naruto didn’t have any complaints. He read about a young prodigy ninja whose clan was murdered by his older brother. So bent upon revenge, he turned to seek higher powers. And through all the struggle the clan ninja’s best friend, some lone boy with a dangerous power, continued to chase him. Sasuke found the boy to be rather stupid, because wasn’t it obvious the clan ninja had the right intentions set in his mind? He was avenging his family. Of course, his friend didn’t see it like that.

By the time the two ninjas reached a valley with waters that echoed the world's history in its waves, Naruto was snoring quietly beside him.

His head bobbed down, only to jerk back up when it was clear he was going to fall. Sasuke only then realized how much time had passed, and marked his page before turning his attention on the slumbering child. Where should he put him? Sasuke didn’t feel safe putting the child on the sofa where something could happen without his knowledge, but he also didn’t want to sleep on the sofa himself.

Sasuke sighed, gently picking the blonde up and carrying him to his bed. He’d be sleeping on his futon tonight.

Putting Naruto down, Sasuke hoped the boy didn’t have lice. Because he didn’t intend on sleeping on the futon forever, and he really didn’t want to have to deal with that problem. Going to unfurl the futon hiding away in his closet, Sasuke couldn’t shake off the feeling of the boy having hair pests. He wasn’t being sensible, of course, and knew that not every street kid had that issue. He completely ignored the fact that he learned lice prefer clean hair over dirty ones. Still, now Sasuke was worrying about a problem he really didn’t have to worry about. But here he was, worrying about it anyways.

Sasuke glanced at Naruto’s sleeping form and frowned. This kid was going to eat away at several years of his lifetime in the span of three days.

Sasuke sighed heavily, got up, grabbed his keys and coat, prayed that Naruto would stay asleep, and left his apartment.

.             .             .

Sasuke re-entered the building and continued to regret ever leaving. His fingers were frozen, and his cheeks felt numb, but his bag of supplies triumphantly swung from his wrist as he climbed the stairs; the exercise would hopefully renew his frozen blood circulation.

When he shut his apartment door behind him, (contently noting that Naruto still seemed to be asleep, as his blonde hair peeked out from his room’s slightly ajar door) Sasuke grabbed a kitchen knife and flung it at the window.

“Nice aim.”

Sasuke groaned, ignoring Itachi leaning against the kitchen counter in favour of trudging to the fridge. The older Uchiha merely twirled the knife in his hands before slotting it back in its holder, glancing at the contents in Sasuke’s bag.

“Since when did you drink milk?”

“How did you get in here?”

“Is that… lice spray? Did you share hats with someone?”

“I swear I locked the window.”

“No, you didn’t. I was so sure I’d have to pick it open.”

Sasuke stuffed the milk in his fridge (Itachi was right, he didn’t drink milk. But Naruto looked so tiny for a seven-year-old. He might as well do him a favour while he was here). Silence settled between the two, and when Sasuke’s butter almost bought it from his squeezing, he whirled around to face his brother.

“Why are you here?!” he demanded, practically throwing the deformed butter into the fridge. Better deformed then crushed all over the floor.

“I can’t visit my younger brother?” Itachi feigned hurt, and Sasuke grumbled under his breath, making sure Itachi heard every foul word running out of his mouth before closing the fridge.

“Is the shampoo and spray for the kid?”

Years of emotional training was the only reason why Sasuke didn’t even bat an eye at the comment.

“What kid?”

“The one sleeping on your bed.”

Damn.

“Look, I brought him in so he could wait out the storm for the weekend.” Sasuke begrudgingly explained, stepping out of the kitchen and making his way to his room.

“I never thought you’d grow a heart, little brother. I’m impressed.”

“What are you doing here.”

“I’m on break.” Itachi shrugged, seemingly content with sifting through his kitchen contents. Sasuke ignored him in favour of shaking Naruto awake.

The blonde blearily opened his eyes, and promptly threw the pillow at him.

“Get away!” he shrieked, backing up and falling off the bed. Sasuke snorted, adjusting his weight and crossing his arms. He listened to Naruto’s ragged breathing from across the bed, and then watched a small blonde head poke out from behind the ledge. His blue eyes were wide in fear, and he clutched Sasuke’s second pillow with the clear intent of using it as a weapon. Fortunately, he recognized his situation and dropped the pillow in a rush to stand. He quickly scrambled up and clumsily got to his feet, bowing by the waste and spewing apologies faster then Sasuke could process them. He just rolled his eyes. (he’s been there, he’s done that).

“It’s fine.” He answered the fretting boy, then grabbed the pillow from the floor and smirked. “Your throws are pretty flimsy, I must say.”

The worry vanished from Naruto’s eyes, much to Sasuke’s relief, and he cried out in indignation, but his smile was there and now Sasuke could breathe easy knowing he didn’t have to soothe tears. He was no good in that department.

“I know you already took one, but I want you to take another shower. I bought… special soap for you.” Sasuke informed. Naruto padded behind him as they, once again, made their way to the bathroom. It was when his hand hit the doorknob that he remembered the filthy puddles of dirt smeared all over the tub floor, and he cringed. Opening the door fully prepared with the onslaught of grime and mud, to say Sasuke was surprised when he saw it was as pristine as ever would be an understatement.

Wait, no, he wasn’t surprised.

Fucking Itachi Uchiha.

When did he even get the time?

If Sasuke knew any better, he would say Itachi watched him leave the apartment.

Sasuke wordlessly handed Naruto the shampoo and spray.

“You need to use the spray first. Make sure it doesn’t get in your eyes. Then use the soap. I also got you some clothes.” He dug through the bag and pulled out a light shirt with a red swirl on it. It was a weird shirt, but something about it screamed at him, so he grabbed it with a shrug. He also grabbed the smallest pants he could find, which now glancing at the blonde, would be a size too big anyways. It was better then what he was wearing now, though.

Naruto held his new articles of clothing as if they were made of glass, eyes shining and suspiciously wet. A wide, wobbly smile broke on his lips, and he hugged the clothes to his chest.

Sasuke left the boy to his devices and hoped he wouldn’t get the spray in his eyes. He didn’t want to deal with tears, no matter the emotion behind them.

To be extra cautious, Sasuke changed the pillow coverings, and then after seeing the mismatched sheets below them, changed those too. You can never be too safe (yes you can). During this process, Sasuke blatantly ignored Itachi’s existence leaning against his door frame.

Unfortunately for him, Itachi had no intention of staying unknown.

“He’s so tiny,” He said, crossing his arms thoughtfully, “how old is he?”

“He told me he was seven.”

“Huh, never would have guessed in those clothes he was wearing.”

“They were the smallest things I had.”

Another lapse of silence enveloped the two as Sasuke dumped the old fabrics into the laundry basket. It was getting pretty full; he’d have to remember to get that task out of the way this weekend.

“He looks so much smaller than a seven-year-old should.” Itachi suddenly said, looking down. “I remember when you were that age. You were quite bigger than him. Taller too.”

Sasuke blushed under the comment, brows furrowing. He shuffled awkwardly on his feet, stuffing his hands on his pockets and taking a sudden interest in his desk. Itachi wasn’t one to be full of sentiment, nor was he one to linger on nostalgic feelings. It was kind of odd. Ever since the fateful night the two became orphans, Itachi hadn’t once reminisced about the past. Not once had he looked back. Not that Sasuke could remember at least.

“Yeah, but he’s also an orphan.” Sasuke pointed out, indulging in his older brother’s strange behaviour.

“So are we.”

Sasuke swallowed thickly, but kept his words to himself, instead opting to smooth over the new sheets. The new atmosphere felt heavy against his chest, choking him from the inside and plunging his mind into fuzzy darkness. He clenched his teeth and bit his tongue, hoping the physical pain to chase away the drowning feeling inside his own lungs. He needed to dissipate this feeling, lest he renders himself useless to the onslaught of thoughts threatening to take him over and drag him under.

“He’s going to sleep on my bed until I think of something else.” He quickly informed, and let out a heavy exhale when the air suddenly felt lighter. Itachi hummed in response, seemingly done with the heavy topics. Yet he stayed silent. Sasuke didn’t know what he wanted, but the silence was deafening.

“Uhm, there’s leftover soup in the fridge, in the red container, if you’re hungry.”

“Okay.”

And that was it. Itachi pushed himself off the door frame and disappeared into the living room, taking with him Sasuke’s need to dig his nails into his palms. He breathed in, shaking his head and gingerly touched his tongue on the roof of his mouth. He didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood, so that was a plus.

Sasuke buried the need to run up to his brother and show him how he wasn’t a little kid anymore. That he wasn’t the grief-ridden child who had hated and resented Itachi’s very being. For leaving him. He was older now. He knew better. All that hatred was but a dwindling memory Sasuke wished would burn away and never resurface. A small sliver of his many regrets.

He smothered the need to show Itachi that was he strong now.

For now, he fixed the last corners of the bedsheet and sat down, suddenly feeling weary after the day’s events. He would sleep tonight and hope all his problems would vanish with his consciousness. (Who was he kidding. He wasn’t going to be able to run away from his life. He tried before, and it didn’t work. He would wake up tomorrow and face the day like every other day, except this time he had a small blonde kid to look after for the next few days).

“Sasuke! There’s someone in yu’r kitchen!” As if summoned by his thoughts, Naruto’s yelling pierced the silence like an arrow. Sasuke dragged a hand through his hair as he listened to Naruto’s shrieking, and hammered down his patience. He pulled himself up and walked into the kitchen to see Naruto pointing an accusing finger at Itachi, who was frozen between putting his food in the microwave and pressing the buttons. The sight would have been funny had Sasuke not been so damn tired. Instead, he lazily waved his hand between the two.

“Naruto, this is my older brother, Itachi. Itachi, this is Naruto.”

The older Uchiha closed the microwave door and started it up before bending down to Naruto’s eye level. Naruto shuffled a few steps back, still wary of the stranger who looked so much like Sasuke it was uncanny.

Itachi smiled softly. Sasuke refused to let his mind plunge itself back into its forsaken memories.

“I’m Itachi Uchiha. Your name is Naruto, right?

The blonde glanced at Sasuke, who begrudgingly nodded, before uttering a wobbly ‘yes’.

Itachi rummaged through his pocket, Naruto perking in curiosity despite his previous uncertainty (little kids can lose fear so quickly), and watched as the Uchiha pulled out a small chocolate from within his sweatpants pocket’s confines. His eyes widened as Itachi offered the sweet treat in his open palm, nodding to the boy.

“Consider this my truce token.”

Naruto padded forward when it was clear Itachi wasn’t joking, gingerly taking the treat and staring at it in astonishment and awe. Then he beamed, eyes crinkling and his smile stretching impossibly wide on his face.

“Thank you Itachi-san!” he squealed, bowing by the waste in a hasty attempt at respect, though his body shook with excitement.

“Just Itachi is fine.” He gave Naruto another small smile, gently ruffling the blonde’s wet hair before answering the beeping microwave. Naruto looked back at his candy once more before trotting up to Sasuke, a bounce on his step. Sasuke could only wish he had that sort of energy.

“Sasuke, look! You’re brothers’ so nice!”

“You’re so easily swayed.” Sasuke muttered, but Naruto ignored him in favour of clutching the small treat in his hands, a look of complete awe all over his face. Even his yawn couldn’t snatch away his smile.

“Since you’re all cleaned up, let’s get you in bed.”

.             .             .

“He’s a well-mannered kid. Surprising for someone in his circumstance.”

“Since when did you carry chocolate in your pockets?”

“They were giving out free samples at the store, so I took one.”

“Right. How convenient.”

Itachi smiled innocently at him (it kept throwing Sasuke off, the smiling) before going back to his book.

“What are you planning on doing with his once the weekends over?”

That… was a good question. Should he just… leave him back outside after his time was up? He could report the Naruto as a ‘missing child’ to the police, but Naruto had said he lived alone, and Sasuke had no evidence to refute the fact. If he handed the blonde over to the police, they would just dump him in Konoha’s orphanage. And Konoha’s orphanage was the closest thing to Hell Sasuke could think of. Their supervisors either weren’t paid enough or just didn’t give a damn, but they were terrible. The whole establishment was under-payed and didn’t even scratch the line when it came to facilitating the children there in a healthy environment. Sasuke remembered countless nights curled up in a ball, trying not to freeze to death when the heating system wouldn’t work (which was most of the time). Or how there was barely enough food for half the kids there. He remembered the people who blatantly chose favourites within the building; those who were polite, smart and strong and would most likely get adopted were prepped and well-kept while those whose future’s looked dim stayed just that; dim. (Sasuke hated that place. He was one of the lucky ones; he was smart. He excelled in his academics, and therefore would be guaranteed dinner every day. He still hated the place, and he was one of the few who were lucky enough to leave).

Sasuke pushed the thought out of his mind. He would figure out what to do in time. (He kept telling himself to just give the damn kid to the orphanage, but memories of cold nights and hard beds kept that suggestion off the table. He wasn’t a monster).

So Sasuke simply shrugged, waving off the problem for later.

“I don’t know, but I’ll think if something.”

“Well, I’m heading to bed, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” Itachi stated after humming in thought, gently closing his book and folding his glasses. After Sasuke replied with a small ‘okay’, Itachi gave him a small smile before flicking the lamp light off and shrouding the room in soft darkness, the street lamp outside offering a single beam of light past his window’s blinds.

Sasuke shook off the feeling Itachi’s smile gave him, and walked into his own room. Itachi had needed his futon, so Sasuke simply plopped down on the opposite side of the bed. His once empty apartment looking a lot fuller.

.             .             .

Naruto woke up to the softest blanket he’d ever felt. With a foggy mind, the boy vaguely wondered if he died and landed in heaven. His little, ratty pile of blankets wasn’t nearly as soft as these, and he sighed happily as he buried his face into the plush pillow below him.

He opened his eyes, and his memories came rushing back to him. He let out a small gasp, fingers tightening around the blanket.

Sasuke. Sasuke rescued him from another miserable storm that would have left Naruto on the brink of death. But Naruto would have gotten over it. His body never allowed him to stay hurt. He would count the number of times he bled on a single hand. His skin was thick, and his bones were solid. People could throw him and beat him, but he would stand back up. It would hurt, but his body refused to stay down. He would’ve survived the harsh pre-winter storm, but he would be miserable and cold and many other unpleasant feelings. Sasuke saved him from having to endure that.

He looked up and saw black hair sticking out in odd directions. It was kind of funny, how Sasuke’s hair stuck out in the back. But Naruto thought it suited him. He felt a smile tug at his lips without his permission, and he breathed in the warm air of the apartment. Sighing contently, he let his fingers wriggle around the soft sheets just for the feeling.

A handful of minutes later, and Naruto’s legs itched to move. His back felt stiff, and he wanted to stretch out his limbs. But Sasuke seemed to be asleep. Naruto couldn’t actually see his face, but he was still lying down, so Naruto assumed he was sleeping. Waking him up would be rude, especially since Sasuke helped him and was really nice to him. It was the least Naruto could do.

So, with that in mind, the blonde inched his body to the edge of the bed, gently swinging his legs off the sides and landing on the cool wooden floorboards with an inaudible ‘thump’. He turned back, grinning to himself when he saw Sasuke’s unmoving form. He padded to the door, peaking past the small gap between it and squeezing his body through. He gave himself a pat on the cheek as a job well done.

“Good morning Naruto.”

He jumped in surprise, whirling around to face the owner of the voice.

Itachi was sitting on a futon, blanket pooled around his waist as he read his book. Well, he had been reading his book up until Naruto showed up. Now he gently placed it down and beckoned Naruto over. The blonde nervously shuffled forward, as to not appear rude and completely ignore the man’s request. He awkwardly sat down on the futon, adjusting to the weird lump that was under him.

“Did you sleep well?” Itachi asked, and Naruto nodded. Then thought over his response and answered with a ‘yeah, it was really warm’. Itachi nodded as well, and Naruto thought hard as to what to say. Should he ask if Itachi had a good night as well? Would that be the polite thing to do? Was it rude to just sit here? Something about the way Itachi’s eyes looked at him, dark and unreadable, made Naruto feel like he was being picked apart. He squirmed, settling his hands in his lap and wringing the cloth of his pants. (He giddily remembered that Sasuke bought him two pairs of clothes, and gave his tummy a warm feeling).

“You don’t have to be nervous.” Itachi suddenly started in his cool, calm voice that was so unlike Sasuke’s that it made Naruto confused. Because the brothers looked almost exactly the same, yet Itachi was much… smoother than Sasuke. Sasuke reminded Naruto of a rough stone. He couldn’t quite explain it, but Sasuke was so full of edges and rough corners; Itachi’s personality felt so smooth and unblemished.

Naruto has only really known them for a day, Itachi even less, but he could just tell.

So, Naruto smiled at the man and adjusted his position so he was more comfortable on the lump he was sitting on. The futon wasn’t as soft or warm as the bed, but it was still a long shot compared to his own collection. He was already dreading going back.

He kicked those thoughts out, because Itachi was looking expectantly at Naruto, and those thoughts wouldn’t bode well if they lingered for too long.

“I’m not nervous!” He defended, puffing out his chest, then deflating when Itachi chuckled softly. He felt his own grin stretching on his lips. He liked when people laughed. Especially when they were laughing with him and not at him. And Itachi was super nice too. He gave Naruto chocolate, as a truce token (whatever that meant).

“You remind me of Sasuke, when he was your age.” To this Naruto perked up.

“Whaddya’ mean?”

“Well for one, he always wanted to prove that he wasn’t weak. If someone ever pointed anything out, he’d just puff out his chest like you, and start saying the exact opposite.”

Naruto snickered at the image of mini-Sasuke angrily rejecting the fact that someone called him nervous, like a threatening kitten. Naruto thought they were really cute when they puffed their fur out and started mewling. He saw one at the pet store, and he remembers how it looked like a fluff ball with legs. Itachi kept going.

“He also insisted on helping out. He would always bombard our mother with requests to do something. She would trick him into eating his veggies, saying that it would help her.”

“Where’s your mom now?” Naruto asked, eyes shining. He never had a mother figure before. The women that raised him in the orphanage were mean and scary, and the older girls who lived there would tease him about being small and unwanted. ‘You’re never going to get adopted’ they’d laugh, and Naruto would laugh back and say the exact same thing to them. He always wished he had a mom. He saw countless kids get adopted around him, into the arms of parents whose smiles made Naruto smile, even if he wasn’t on the receiving ends of their affection. He remembered this one boy who followed a beautiful woman out of the building. The woman had another child already, and had held it close to her chest and she led the boy into her life. Naruto longed to be held in the warm embrace of a mother. Maybe if he met Sasuke’s mom, he would be able to see what a mother was really like. She seemed nice.

Itachi’s eyes remained the same, yet Naruto could see the small smile on his face saddened. To his horror, Naruto realized he had probably said the wrong thing.

“Our parents passed away when Sasuke was little.”

Naruto’s mouth formed a small ‘o’, and he cast his eyes down. He felt bad. He never knew his parents, yet he missed them dearly. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have people like that, and then lose them.

“I’m… sorry.” Naruto muttered, feeling terrible for having Itachi mention such a thing. The older man turned to him and gave him a soft pat on the head (Naruto wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he loved head pats. He gave himself head pats all the time, if only to enjoy the feeling. Having someone else do it made Naruto feel all mushy and warm inside. He liked it).

“You have nothing to apologize for. You had nothing to do with it.”

He nodded, but pouted anyways. He still felt bad, and he had to fix it.

An idea popped in his head, and he hastily excused himself before quietly scampering off into the bedroom. He made sure to tiptoe all the way to the desk, where Sasuke had put his chocolate, assuring him it would be safe. Snagging the treat, Naruto retreated back into the living room, and grin on his face at his second successful sneak-away.

Fiddling with the wrapper, Naruto sheepishly gave it to Itachi, who easily opened it and handed it back to Naruto. The blonde then proceeded to measure out the small bar with his eyes and gingerly broke it in half. It was a truce token (Naruto didn’t know what that was, but he knew a truce was a peace between two people), so Naruto offered the other half to Itachi.

He blinked at the candy in the palm of Naruto’s hand.

“I gave it to you, enjoy it.” He pointed out with a small smile. Naruto decided he liked his smile. It was a lot softer than Sasuke’s smile.

“You enjoy more when you share.” Naruto wisely quoted the restaurant slogan downtown.

Itachi chuckled (did he know the slogan too? It was a pretty smart one) and took the piece, raising it up after a moment.

“Cheers?” He offered, and Naruto felt his grin widen. He tapped his piece with Itachi’s and happily munched on the chocolate.

The taste instantly coated his mouth, and made it water. He lapped the crunchy treat with his tongue before biting into it. He felt a bit remorseful when he swallowed it, but grinned, spirits high. The warmth in his chest expanded and settled in his limbs. He liked this warmth a lot.

“Naruto,” Itachi suddenly started, tone a lot more serious than before. The blonde perked up, noticing the change in demeanour and focusing his attention. Itachi seemed to want to say something important.

“You’re a good kid.” Was all Itachi offered after the pause. Naruto nodded, confused because he had no idea what that meant, but nodding was always a plus. Naruto liked to think he knew his manners well, and tried to practice them to show people he wasn’t some rude kid. People would never believe him, but acting polite did always score him small smiles and, if people were extra generous, a few coins. But to say he was a good kid? What did that even mean? Was Itachi referencing to his manners? Did he like his manners a lot? Naruto felt happy knowing his manners were well-kept and appreciated, but did that really make him a good kid?

All this thinking made Naruto’s head spin, so he simply nodded. He would dwell on it later. Nodding was always an easy way out of having to think. It seemed to be the right course of action too, because the Uchiha’s eyes softened again and he ruffled Naruto’s hair, making his giggle. (He really like head pats).

When Naruto adjusted on the lump, he also had to recognize the growing stiffness in his neck from having to look up at the man. Itachi was… really tall.

Like, by a whole lot.

Even while sitting on the lump in the blanket, Naruto was a whole lot shorter than the man, having to look up the way he did. He was probably taller than Sasuke! He had failed to notice just how much bigger he was, because he had been too caught up in fantasizing what his new chocolate would taste like (he wasn’t disappointed. The chocolate went beyond any of his expectations). Sasuke’s dinner had also been delicious. The soup had tasted so yummy and was full of flavours Naruto had previously only dreamt about. His sandwiches had been soft and chewy too, and Naruto put that meal as his number one. It had far surpassed the instant ramen the orphanage stocked up on.

To think something could surpass ramen. Naruto had always heard how home-cooked meals were the best meals, and he was pleasantly surprised by the realization that they, in fact, were. And Sasuke knew how to cook well.

As if aroused by his thoughts, the younger Uchiha sauntered into the living room, bangs tousled with sleep. He let out a breath when he saw Itachi and Naruto comfortably lounging on the futon, a playful smile on the blonde’s face.

“G’ morning Sasuke!” Naruto waved, earning a small smile from Itachi. The combination of the two made Sasuke’s ears flush red.

“Uh, yeah, good morning to you too. Did you guys eat breakfast yet?”

“We had chocolate!”

Sasuke turned to pointedly glare at his older brother (who thought it was a good idea to feed little kids sugar first thing in the morning). He simply gave Sasuke an innocent look, nonchalantly shrugging as if to say ‘I had nothing to do with it’. If Naruto became over-hyper, he was dumping the kid on Itachi without hesitation.

“Okay, well. I’ll make omelettes.”

Naruto nodded enthusiastically, and Itachi got up from where he was seated, causing Naruto to fall over with an undignified squawk. Ah, so the lump had been the man’s leg.

“I’ll help.”

“You can’t even make your own omelettes.” Sasuke pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t make other things.”

“You’re not touching the stove, or the oven.” Then after a second thought he added “Or the microwave.”

“Fair.” Itachi replied, helping the blonde up with more gentle care than Sasuke was used to. His movements were so soft with the boy, his gaze so tender. The way the boy high-fived his older brother, and the way Itachi softly touched Naruto’s smaller hand with his own much larger one, smiling when Naruto giggled. Sasuke blinked when he realized that heavy sensation was back, but it was duller than before. Like a warm hand constantly pressed against his chest.

Sasuke could count the amount of times Itachi was this gentle on one hand ever since… that happened. Even after Itachi claimed legal guardianship of Sasuke, he had changed from the once loving older brother Sasuke knew. He was still loving, but he was different. He was detached. He wasn’t… cold per say. But he lacked his usual warmth. Warmth that Sasuke craved for years after his parent’s death. He longed, yearned for some sense of warmth, but even though Itachi tried to fill in the gap their parents left, he was never able to make Sasuke feel warm (probably because he was trying to get warm himself).

Now here he was, eyes soft and mirthful, and Sasuke was drowning in memories. Of how Itachi would sleep with him when he had a nightmare. How he would play hide and seek in the forest in their backyard. How he would help him with his homework. Even when he butchered trying to make something for Sasuke to eat, it always made him feel warm.

Naruto was seven and was an orphan. Sasuke was seven when he was orphaned. The similarity was uncanny, but maybe it was that similarity that gave Itachi the spark he once lost. Was he drowning in memories too? Kids were so energetic and innocent; oblivious to life’s troubles and even when life gave them trouble, they plowed through. They found fun in the worst situations. Its why children are known as the future; because they can endure so much more than anyone else, and still find light at the end of the tunnel.

Naruto seemed like a good kid. He was cheerful, well-mannered, and wasn’t as depressed as Sasuke thought he would be. He had a lot to say, and not enough words to say them.

(How could Itachi ignore something that reminded him so much of the younger brother he lost alongside his parents?)

Sasuke shook his head, running a hand through his hair and further tousling his bangs. He needed to get his head out of the depressive hole he keeps digging for himself. If Itachi found his warmth in Naruto, then that was fine. (He would never admit that’s seeing Itachi so light, smiling and happy, made Sasuke slightly warmer too. He would continue to deny it until his grave, and then clutch the truth in his cold dead hands).

“Oh wow, you’re so big Itachi! Taller than Sasuke!” Naruto exclaimed, turning his head between the two brothers, and effectively pulling Sasuke out of his thoughts (he was grateful).

“I’ve always been the taller one. I’m Sasuke’s older brother, after all.” Itachi pointed out, ignoring Sasuke’s scoff.

“Can you touch the roof? You totally can!”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

“Try it. Please!” Naruto clutched Itachi’s sweatpants, a pleading look in Naruto’s blue eyes. Sasuke rolled his eyes at how weak his brother was when Itachi relented to the blonde’s stare and gently pried his fingers off.

“Okay, but there’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to.”

Naruto ignored the statement and bounced in excitement. Sasuke scoffed again, this time as Itachi’s modesty. He could very well touch a height twice as long as this one. He didn’t take numerous martial arts for nothing. He watched his older brothers bunch his legs in a lazy squat before springing up, easily touching his palm to the ceiling. Naruto squealed, as easily swayed as ever, and began talking a mile a minute about how ‘cool and awesome that was’ and ‘you’re like a ninja’. Of course, Itachi Uchiha, being the modest role-model he was, simply waved off the compliments with a smile.

The sight was of the two was so domestic, so normal, that it had Sasuke fighting back memories once again. It was like Naruto wasn’t some orphan he picked up yesterday, and Itachi wasn’t the survivor of a brutal massacre. They were just… them. Naruto being a bright kid with a habit of mixing his n’s and r’s, and Itachi treating the blonde like he was another little brother.

Sasuke almost didn’t want it to end, enjoying the weird warm weight in his chest at the sight of the two. But this was reality, and that didn’t happen. Itachi looked up and gestured to the kitchen with his head.

“Let’s get started on that breakfast plan.”

So, Sasuke did just that. He nodded in reply, sighed heavily, and listened to the sounds of Naruto’s feet padding excitedly on the wooden floorboards.