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It’s one thing for your friend-slash-coworker-with-a-crush-on-you to disappear. It’s another thing for Sakura to disappear. Sakura is, if nothing else, dedicated to everything she does: her business, her clean-freakness, and most of all, her crush. And now here she is.
“Are you, ah.” From the doorway, Sasuke watches Sakura attack a blond man with a broom. Is that really Sakura? Wrinkly?
One week. He would’ve waited longer but they were already late on filing taxes for the shop (with Sasuke’s own taxes) and Sasuke’s head had started swimming at the number of forms.
“You!” The man points at Sasuke. “You have to—“ He coughs at the dust “—help.”
‘Sakura’ pauses, turning to Sasuke.
“Sasuke.” Her face brightens. It’s wrinkly—and old. The hell? “Would you help me with the cleaning?”
Sasuke rests his head against the doorframe. He’s so tired. He had to go find a moving castle, and he got hit in the head by a scarecrow-man twice—all so he could file his taxes. He didn’t sign up for this adventure. Hell, adventures are pretty bullshit in his opinion.
He shrugs instead.
It’s honestly not that bad. Red is not a bad colour.
“Sakura, you don’t get it,” Naruto sobs into his palms. “I have to meet my advisor and he—I can’t just ask for another deadline extension with red hair. That’s just so uncool.”
Sakura throws a chair and calls Naruto a ‘pig-headed dumbass’. Naruto narrowly dodges.
“Is he always like this?” Sasuke asks flatly. The scarecrow-man rattles in the way that Sasuke has come to learn is him laughing.
“Once,” Kakashi says, oddly cheerful and spitting straw on Sasuke. “Naruto ran into the streets naked. He sleeps naked, did you know?” Sasuke does and wishes he didn’t. “Anyways, so he runs into the street, naked, yelling that he's lost a necklace and needs help finding it.”
“And where was the necklace?”
Naruto has now locked himself in the bathroom.
“You coward!” Sakura slams on the door. She’s holding a pair of scissors in one hand. “If you really hate it let me cut it off. Maybe then you’ll shut up.”
It really is a terrifying thought that old age hasn't made Sakura any less of a menace. She nearly broke Sasuke’s nose once by slamming a door closed he was standing in the doorway of.
“Maa, Sasuke,” Kakashi pats Sasuke’s head as one does with a very small child, “It was on his neck. Backwards of course.”
Sasuke glares at Kakashi who starts laughing. Not a rattle, but a proper laugh. He coughs straw out and it falls on Sasuke's face.
"So you two are, what, the king and queen?" Sakura gestures, blinking.
"No," Tsunade says.
At the exact same time Jiraiya, eyebrows waggling, says, "We could be."
Tsunade aims an empty bottle at Jiraiya. It shatters against an expensive-looking table, which causes an even more expensive-looking vase to shatter. There are many empty bottles around the fancy room. Sasuke eyes the limp body at his feet.
"We're co-monarchs," Tsunade says, still eyeing Jiraiya. "Not for long now, though."
Sakura blinks. Sasuke can see her respect for authority warring against her need to call out nonsense. It's been that way since they dragged the Witch in. Did her tongue have to be that long? It’s still getting slime over the floor.
Sasuke is about to say something when the chandelier creaks. Along with the entire ceiling. There's a thud in the patio beyond the also very expensive—good god these people have money—glass doors. There is Naruto on a giant frog. Wait, wasn't the point of sending Sakura and Sasuke on this insane milk run so that Naruto didn't show up and have to face his senior advisor?
"Sakura!" Naruto says, pushing the door open. "I need your help. Oh, Granny and—oh ha ha hi Pervy Sage you're here too?"
"Naruto!" Sakura and Jiraiya shout in unison.
Jiraiya is squinting at Naruto, projecting disdain and judgement. From a man that writes porn with his name on it, as the king, that's rich.
"Hahaha that's—hey Sakura we should get out. I need some help, y'know?"
"You just," Sakura breathes. "You just walked into the king and queen's throne room and—"
That is followed by protests from mostly Tsunade and another halfhearted lecherous comment from Jiraiya.
"Man, Sakura," Naruto waves a hand, walks towards her and slings an arm over her shoulders. He winks at Sasuke. "Being a king and queen together is really an old notion, y'know?”
Because of course, Naruto thinks the gender expectations of being king and queen are old-fashioned, not the monarchy. Wisely, Sasuke says nothing. He had a thing a while back for reading about revolutionaries who were definitely stoned and probably a little gay. Mainly because his great-grandfather, Madara, was a stoned gay revolutionary. He’d started throwing dramatic quotes into his conversations with customers because, honestly, they were all so boring. Sakura had gotten pissed because it was chasing customers away and cutting into their bottom line. She’d crushed and sprinkled laxatives into his breakfast. Sasuke had since then learned the error of double-crossing Sakura, or bringing up politics in her vicinity.
“Anyways, so about the baking soda. I had to sprinkle it on, right? So about that—"
"Oi oi, Naruto you had to submit the second draft of your thesis and—"
"—What do you mean you sprinkled on baking soda? God damn it. That took me ages to knead and—"
“Ahaaaha so I might’veblowntheovenout?” Naruto pointedly looks at the ceiling. “Oh, uh, and the fire! Yeah, the fire totally burned my manuscript. Sorry ‘bout that—I kinda need an extension.”
Sakura and Jiraiya start shouting at the same time.
“Tsk, Naruto.” Tsunade sounds fond of Naruto. Of course she does. It’s Naruto. “Red? Really?”
"Man, Sasuke, we should get out of here," Naruto nudges Sasuke, face turning red at Tsunade’s comment. Sasuke ignores Naruto for the more urgent matter on the floor.
"So," Sasuke starts.
"—really, Naruto. It's been six weeks past your deadline. I think? Prolly. Anyways. Kid, I know you've been turning away my frogs."
"So we," Sasuke clears his throat.
"Yeah, yeah I'll get to it. And Sakura the castle won't—okay it might not be fireproofed, but, y'know that's why we need to hurry and—"
"Would you idiots listen," Sasuke hisses. Jiraiya thumps Naruto over the back, talking about something stupid. Sakura's laughing her old lady laugh.
Sasuke picks up Orochi-whatever's body and throws it at Jiraiya, Sakura and Naruto. Fucking Itachi’s nonsense causing Sasuke to learn to fight and then fucking Sakura bullying Sasuke into transporting rolls of fabrics for her.
Tsunade takes another shot as the body hits the floor. Orochimaru gurgles. Jiraiya side-steps. Naruto and Sakura don’t and make unpleasant hissing sounds.
"We have the fucking creepy Witch. You people do something about her," Sasuke glares. It's really not having the desired effect.
“Orochimaru? Witch?" Tsunade says, delighted.
"She? Oh," Jiraiya laughs at Sasuke. His face heats. "Oh kid."
Jiraiya bends down and pokes Orochimaru with a finger.
“A witch, aye, Oro?”
Orochimaru makes a sound between a hiss and a gurgle.
“We’ll take care of him,” Jiraiya pokes Orochimaru again. “Don’t you worry.”
“Um,” Sakura says.
“It’s a couples thing. Triples? I don’t know. Don’t question it,” Naruto says.
Sasuke just wanted his taxes filed.
“It’s weird,” Naruto says quietly. He and Sasuke stand at the base of the staircase where Sakura’s sleeping. She looks like how she used to, bright pink hair without any grey.
“It makes sense, I guess, but...” Naruto shrugs.
Sasuke looks at him. The fire’s burning low, making Naruto’s hair red on red.
“Anyways, that’s not for you to sort out. So... Up?”
Naruto goes first. Sakura’s mattress is right next to the staircase, so Sasuke tiptoes upstairs.
Before Sasuke turned seven and the world went to shit, he’d sneak downstairs with Itachi. They’d go see meteor showers. The third step from the top was the one that creaked. Itachi always had to hold Sasuke’s hand as he hopped over it.
Naruto winks from the top of the steps. He waves the bottle of bleach and mouths ‘hurry up, asshole’ to Sasuke.
Naruto’s always pulling people’s attention in, by the wrist, by jokes that Kakashi sighs at, by making Sakura yell at him. And no one else looks and notices. Sasuke does. And it is to his infinite surprise, his infinite pleasure, that Naruto always looks back.
Sasuke flips him off and climbs the last few steps. The third one from the top creaks.
Naruto pulls Sasuke into the bathroom by his wrist.
“Aw, yeah,” Naruto says as red dye washes out. “Blond again.”
Instead of doing something insane like tell Naruto he looked nice in red, or pet Naruto’s hair to see if it’s soft, Sasuke rolls his eyes and calls Naruto stupid.
See, Sasuke knows adventures and mysteries are all bullshit. He knew it when he was seven, and then later at sixteen, and the word brother turned to ash in his mouth. If Sakura wants to follow Naruto out into his spooky ‘do not go into the black door’ doorway because ‘Sasuke, it’s an adventure,' then fine. Sasuke will let her do that. He’ll give her judgemental looks for her terrible life choices, sure, but he’ll let her do it.
"Oi, psst," The fire-toad says.
He flips the page of his book a little too forcefully. It’s Kakashi’s—no, not the god-awful porn he reads. It’s a book about a man who walks off the edge of the world to meet his third wife, only to find out she’s really his first wife. See, that’s a good mystery only because it’s fiction. In real life, it’d be something stupid. The man would have just walked off the edge of the earth and died and left his family and little brother.
"Psh." He throws an ember at Sasuke with his tongue. "You. The domestic-looking one."
Without looking up from his book, Sasuke tosses his sandal at the fire. The toad croaks indignantly. Sakura had gotten a box of hats thrown at her when she'd called him domestic, so it seems fair.
The doorway squeaks open. Sakura and Naruto fall out looking... singed. And with a fox tail.
"Sasuke," Sakura says in her delighted old lady voice. "Do I have news."
"Not. A. Word," Naruto rubs his cheek. He gets out of the doorway and immediately falls onto his guitar.
"For the record, I think it's a stupid idea."
"Yeah, yeah Sakura. But you still agreed to it."
"We-ell," the fire-toad says. Gama-something. Whatever. "The original version has the girl kissing a frog who’s actually a handsome prince."
"Ew," Sakura grimaces. She looks at Naruto then the toad, "Though if I want to try to break this spell... I guess it's kind of a toss-up, really."
Naruto splutters. Kakashi rattle-laughs in the background.
"Well now, might as well get it over with," Kakashi says.
“I’d still rather kiss Sasuke,” Sakura says one last time.
Naruto purses his lips and leans forwards. Sakura rolls her eyes and meets him halfway. And then the earth splits apart, lightning strikes, and...
"That was anticlimactic," Kakashi says.
Sakura steps back, furiously wiping at her mouth.
"'Kay, so, the next one—" The fire-toad says.
"With less kissing," Sakura says. "No kissing, actually. At all."
"It wasn't that bad," Naruto says. Sakura glares at him. Sasuke agrees with her.
Kakashi hops around Sasuke while he hangs the laundry. He's a nuisance and will not stop.
"And so, do you want to guess what happens?" Kakashi's saying.
"No," Sasuke grits out, hanging the whites. He does not give a shit about the stupid dogs with stupid dog shoes.
"Now Sasuke, that's just rude," Kakashi says. "Like your brother, really. He stared at me. Well, until I shut up. Which was around the time I got to telling him about the ponchos I bought—for my dogs, of course."
Sasuke snorts, a small piece of misplaced fondness in his voice. Trust Itachi to make a man (scarecrow?) with no sense of shame feel judged.
"You knew Itachi?" He says. The basket's empty now.
"Maa, from here and there; a crow and scarecrow," Kakashi waves a hand. "How's he these days?"
Ah. "Dead," Sasuke shrugs. And he's not digging his brother out of the ground with this conversation. Not anymore. Not entirely anymore, anyways.
He walks back into the castle. He picks his corner by the fire and finishes his book. The man finds his estranged son and they both reconnect and buy a dog while his first and third wife elope.
Sasuke gets bored after that and does the dishes too. Domestic, Sakura had said, grinning while he made soup for her because she was sick and hadn't shown up to work. Sasuke had felt loved for a brief moment until Sakura had made her usual pass at him followed by a comment about expanding the shop and Sasuke working overtime. Then Sasuke had thrown a box at her.
The afternoon bleeds into the evening. Sasuke's on the patio with Naruto's guitar. Naruto and Sakura still aren't back. Still out on their grand adventures. There have been more of them, adventures chasing those gloopy black figures.
Sasuke strums, eyes closed.
A crow flies overhead.
Really, it should be harder. All Sasuke has to do is pick a time when Naruto and Sakura are out to head down to the doorway and flick the knob to the black door. Sasuke glances behind, licking his lips. He pushes the door open.
There are no buildings on fire, no strange goo-men, no people screaming. The most exciting thing is the fact that the houses are made out of wood and in a completely different style than what he's seen in his adult life. It reminds him of his family home. He could see the lights of the trains at night.
He walks down the street and looks at the strange sweet tomatoes they have. Much more of a fruit than a vegetable, really. He should get some for home so Naruto can yell about 'Sasuke's weird cooking that doesn't taste like complete crap.' There's a loud red-haired lady who's mercilessly bartering with the salesboy. It reminds Sasuke of Sakura in her best and worst moments. Both are equally terrifying.
"Oh!" The woman says. She looks up and down at Sasuke. It’s Naruto’s shirt and in a foreign style. He probably sticks out like a sore thumb.
"Dear, you're one of Naruto's friends. Aren't you?" She smiles at him and it all suddenly makes sense. "I'm his mother. I'm always telling the boy to bring some friends over, but, well, children, y'know."
And then Sasuke finds himself being roped into dinner. It's quite good, actually. He learns about significant embarrassing childhood memories to use as ammo against Naruto. He also pieces together that Naruto lived on his own until roughly his teenage years. Something happened either when Naruto was born or right after. It doesn’t make a difference. The outcome was the same: halfway emotionally inept, attention-seeking, and very orange. Sasuke has a distinct moment of looking at himself upside down and realising that the mirror image never was Itachi.
Kushina’s given him his third bowl when:
"SASUKE," Naruto slides open the door. It's really not as dramatic as when he slams the door open in the castle. His hair is on fire, which does add to dramatic effect.
"Naruto!" Kushina says.
"Why are you always on fire?" Sasuke says, putting down his chopsticks. He’s used to eating his rice with a spoon now, but chopsticks still feel more normal.
“YOU—“ Naruto points to Sasuke.
“Your hair is on fire,” Sasuke says. Naruto pats down on it, cursing.
“Naruto, baby,” Kushina says, “You have such a polite friend. You could have brought him over. Your father and I would be very happy if you brought a boy home.”
“Polite— you— Sasuke?” Naruto says, “Sasuke’s not— oh my god. First Sakura and now this.”
Naruto dejectedly flops into a seat. He looks anywhere except Sasuke. Sasuke eats his rice and vegetables. It's really quite good.
“Oh, yah. How’s your thesis going, by the way?” Kushina says. “Jiraiya mentioned something the other day about it.”
Naruto groans.
Sasuke stares at his garden shears disdainfully. There's something disgusting and sticky on it and he was using them, damn it.
The black goo underneath him groans and splits, reforming slowly. Sasuke clicks his shears menacingly. It doesn't quite work because the blades stick together.
"Tch," Sasuke moves to attack, except he can't. There's slime oozing from between the pavement and up from the soil and into his shoes, glueing him. Ugh. He'd been excited about growing those sweet tomatoes.
Something pulls him back by his arm, yanks Sasuke hard enough that he falls out of his boots.
"Fuck off," Sasuke says as Naruto swipes forward, through the creatures.
“You’re welcome asshole,” Naruto grabs Sasuke’s wrist and pulls him till they’re toppling back into the castle.
Sasuke glares at Naruto. They’re in a pile in the doorway and Naruto’s upturned the shoe rack. Something wet and slick slaps against the door. Naruto rests his head against the wall, throat bobbing as he swallows.
“Tch,” Sasuke inspects his feet. They’re dirty and there’s slime on them.
“Oh shut up you big baby,” Naruto says, standing. His whiskers are still thicker.
“Don’t open the window. I’ll be back, uh, soon-ish,” Naruto says, giving Sasuke one last glance, and then he’s gone. The problem with existing in relation to others, looking outwards for attention first is that people will hand you their problems to solve. And then, because you’re an unloved, hungry child, you’ll accept. So you must solve everything on your own. Shoulder your own hate along with everyone else’s, that kind of bullshit.
Sasuke sighs and rubs his feet.
“Oh come on, pretty boy just—“
“Sakura I will kill you—“
“That’s hot. Also, oh pigs on a shitstick—“
A crumbling bit of ceiling falls just past Sakura.
“I hate both of you,” The fire-toad croaks out. The fire’s sputtering out.
“Shut up Gamakichi,” Sakura hisses. She pulls the lever in the direction they’re not supposed to and the castle lurches.
“Just hand it to me,“ Sasuke yanks it back. The castle lurches this time. And then the ceiling caves in.
Sasuke wakes up at the foot of a crumbling doorway; the one in Naruto’s castle and also Sasuke’s childhood home, the one with the third step from the top that creaks.
Sasuke looks back. There’s the crumbling ruin of the castle lit up by the brilliant orange fire in the distance. Neither Naruto nor Sakura are anywhere near him. In his nightmares and his childhood, it has always been Sasuke by himself, and a doorway he has to walk through.
So he walks through.
It’s his childhood bedroom, not his parent’s bedroom with three dead bodies like it usually is. There are strawberry and tomato pots on his balcony, almost two decades dead now. Beyond them, the lights of the train station flicker in the distance.
“Sasuke?” Itachi comes and sits on the bed beside Sasuke. He smells like iron.
“‘Tachi,” Sasuke doesn’t need to look.
“Are you going to stay?”
Sasuke watches the lights. He can faintly hear the trains. There’s a meteor shower out in the country tonight that lots of people are going to. Lots of families.
"No," Sasuke turns towards Itachi. His fingers twitch in his lap and then settle, slick and red. Even at twelve Itachi was too put together to fidget. Sasuke slips an arm around his shoulder and he has to bend down slightly.
Itachi exists in double vision in Sasuke's eyes: always taller than Sasuke, always looking out for him; Sasuke, seven, looking down on Itachi's bent form in their parent’s bedroom, a hand on his bleeding chest, with him mouthing 'Sorry Sasuke, another time?'
"No," Sasuke repeats, squeezing Itachi's shoulder, "but maybe next time?"
"Perhaps," Itachi sighs, almost a fond laugh. Sasuke eyes the gash in his chest. He hears a star fall into the garden below, then another.
"We can go see a meteor shower. Or maybe the fireworks show after," Sasuke says. And then finish this conversation.
Itachi nods slowly. Maybe this time Sasuke will bury his dead. He's been trying since he was seven and Itachi killed their parents and then himself, Sasuke standing in the doorway. He tried when he was sixteen and realised that there are no grand adventures. There is no resolution. The men behind Itachi had died peacefully in their beds years before. Sasuke took the next train out and somehow found himself in a hat shop, ghosts and dead in tow.
Someone bangs on the door. Sasuke jolts.
"Ah," Itachi says, his voice scratchy the way Sasuke's was when he started going through puberty. Sasuke can hear Sakura cursing on the other side.
Sasuke is an end to a civilisation now disappearing into the night sky between a meteor shower. He runs his tongue over his teeth. If Sasuke wasn't born, wasn't his brother's Achilles heel, would it have happened? If Itachi did it all to protect Sasuke, is the blood on Sasuke’s hands? If, if, if.
The knocking gets louder. The train whistles loudly as it leaves the station, smoke billowing into Sasuke's bedroom. It’s thick, black and smells of cloying guilt and his mother’s perfume.
"Next time," Sasuke gently pulls away from Itachi. This will be the last time. He has a star to go find and a train to catch.
The orange fire in the night, as it turns out, is Naruto. Train station lights in the night, smoke in Sasuke’s imaginary-real bedroom.
Another tail bubbles into existence and swipes at Sakura and Kakashi, who jump out of the way. All lonely children have monsters, sometimes in their stomachs or brothers.
Sasuke takes a deep breath, puts on his big boy pants, and steps past the debris. His palms are sweaty and the air's burning in that suffocating sulphuric way. All lonely children are not their monsters. Sometimes it takes a train ride to remember that. Other times, a good punch in the face from a friend.
He ducks beneath Naruto's swipe and grabs him by the collar. Naruto makes a sound of animal confusion. If a magical frog said it'd work, then by god is Sasuke going to make it work.
Sasuke ducks and presses his mouth to Naruto's. His lips are supremely dry and warm. Naruto makes another sound at the back of his throat and then.
And then Sasuke goes flying, because holy hell that punch to the gut hurt. Someone's howling with laughter and something's rattling.
He hits the ground, vision fading. Honestly, he'd be fine never waking up.
The sun's risen now and Sakura's tying bandages around Kakashi's arm. Somewhere in between Sasuke’s escapade in a magical doorway and Sasuke getting punched by the boy he just kissed, Kakashi sorted his shit out. This is good. Fleshy human Kakashi can no longer spit straw in Sasuke's face. He can still—unfortunately—speak.
"You know Sasuke, that reminded me of Icha Icha Makeout Paradise," Kakashi says. Sakura snickers. "Dear little Koneko reunites with—mff 'suke."
Sasuke stuffs a shoe in Kakashi's mouth. He's more than happy to go barefoot.
"Sakura. My—" Sasuke exhales and runs a hand down his face, "my fucking tax form."
"Oh," Sakura looks around. There are stray pages and books scattered around the debris. "Um. It might take us a while to find it?"
Sasuke counts to five. He can't deal with this. He walks off—wearing one shoe because he can't exactly pull the other one out of Kakashi's mouth and put it on.
He finds Naruto alone, next to the splintered doorway from the top of the stairs. All the broken pieces of the castle splayed out across the meadow point back to an epicentre. All the little tragedies knot together into wood grain on a doorway.
"Sasuke," Naruto's looking up at the sky.
Sasuke looks at him. The doorway's three pieces of wood on the floor. He can't walk through it. There's no train in the distance. Only the soft sound of rustling grass and Naruto's breath.
"Sas'?" Naruto looks at him. Sasuke could stay here. And what a dysfunctional pair of idiots they would make. Sasuke leans closer to Naruto. And then he punches him in the gut.
"The hell— you asshole that hurts," Naruto wheezes. Sasuke pushes down on the laughter bubbling in his chest and instead runs his fingers through Naruto's hair.
