Archive of Our Own

Naruto was hogging the entire bed again. It was a king-sized bed but apparently Naruto needed the middle of it for his torso and all four corners for his limbs. And he twitched. And he snored. When the alarm clock said it was 5:13, Sasuke gave up and shuffled into the bathroom, quietly confident he’d have time to take a leisurely soak before the day truly began for the Uzumaki household.

He had to move a mountain of bath toys first, of course. He had to use the sensitive-skin body wash, which was meant for babies, and the strawberry-infused shampoo that he was mildly allergic to but everyone else in the house loved. After he bathed, he used a too-small towel with ducks on it to dry off. He tried not to dwell on these little annoyances, though. He was frowning too often these days; Sakura had told him he was going to get wrinkled like he was one of Kabuto’s reanimated corpses. She was being a bitch, but she wasn’t wrong. He was trying to be mindful of his expressions, project an air of disinterest. He’d been so good at it when he was a teenager. Well into his twenties he’d been able to keep his face empty, no matter what the world threw out at him.

Living with Naruto was not helping him maintain neutrality. Nothing in the world could piss him off faster than that man.

Sasuke was eating toast and squinting his way through today’s Sudoku when the Morning Riot began. Sasuke firmly refused to learn the names of all the strays Naruto brought home, so it was Smallest One who started crying to be fed. Naruto stumbled out of bed for him, stubbed his toe, turned a swear into a nonsense sound, and woke up Creepily Quiet One, which Sasuke only knew about because Creepily Quiet One had chakra control as bad as her adoptive father’s. She’d flare it any time she was surprised or scared or frustrated or happy. She didn’t speak much, and she was as good at maintaining a neutral expression as Sasuke on his best days, but her chakra was a mess. It was ridiculous, like a damn firework going off.

Her control was going to be very, very interesting when she started working on her ninjutsu skills. She had some kind of kekkei genkai that doctors were obsessing over already. Naruto had made it clear that he wasn’t going to have her treated like a lab experiment, though. Sasuke was meeting with Sakura about kekkei genkai today, actually…

But Creepily Quiet One wasn’t his business. She was just another one of Naruto’s many children. Sasuke filled in another square of the Sudoku and took a sip of tea.

Way Too Old To Still Be Living At Home pounded on the upstairs bathroom door. It seemed Too Many Piercings had taken control of the best bathroom. Creepily Quiet One slipped down to use the main floor bathroom before her Way Too Old brother could think to try it. She was fast, though; Way Too Old wouldn’t have time to complain.

Thumb-sucker was yelling for “Narudad” and it took all of Sasuke’s willpower not to smirk at that nickname. Naruto loved it. It was actually painful to watch how wobbly his chin got when the younger kids called him Narudad. Several times Sasuke had to leave the room and take deep breaths because if he laughed, ever, Naruto would know and would never let him live it down.

Ginger One was first to make his way to the kitchen. He gave Sasuke a timid smile that Sasuke acknowledged with a nod.

“Do you want eggs?” Ginger One asked softly.

“No,” Sasuke said.

Ginger One nodded and moved to the refrigerator to pull out milk and an entire carton of eggs. Ginger One asked every single day he made breakfast and Sasuke was in the kitchen if Sasuke wanted to join their meal. Sasuke had never taken him up on it. At first he’d considered it pathetic that Ginger One kept trying, but then Sasuke had realized that perhaps it was politeness and respect and that changed his opinion of Ginger One somewhat.

Sasuke finished his Sudoku just as the Morning Riot made it to the kitchen table. He stood up smoothly, leaving the paper behind and taking his dishes to the sink. Behind him he heard Too Many Piercings say, “Awww, Narudad, Sasuke did the Sudoku already! And in ink!”

Sasuke’s mouth twitched into almost a smirk.

“He’s a jerk, Tetsuo, don’t let it get ya down,” Naruto said, his voice a decibel too loud for the indoors. “He didn’t scribble over the comics this time, you can read those!”

“Those’re for kids,” Too Many Piercings grumbled. Sasuke rolled his eyes; as if Too Many Piercings hadn’t just used that preposterous, childish nickname ‘Narudad.’

“Can I have ‘em?” Spider-loving Weirdo asked.

“You’re such a baby,” Too Many Piercings said.

“Give your sibling the comics,” Naruto said. “And don’t be mean to them! Sheesh, Tetsuo, lighten up. Ai can do what they want.”

There was a rustle of papers being passed around, some blessed silence as Sasuke shook the crumbs from his plate, and then everyone yelled “THANK YOU FOR THE MEAL” as loudly as they could. Sasuke couldn’t stop himself from flinching. It was an Uzumaki household tradition that he absolutely hated; they yelled it at every family meal. Based on the way Naruto laughed afterwards, from his belly and way too long, Sasuke was starting to think that it was a deliberate attempt to make Sasuke twitch.

“We got him good this time, guys!” Naruto stage-whispered. There was an avalanche of muffled, conspiratorial giggles.

It was definitely on purpose.

Sasuke turned to give a death-glare to all the assholes at the breakfast table. Too Many Piercings, Creepily Quiet One, Thumb-sucker, Spider-loving Weirdo, Way Too Old, and Ginger One were all bending over their plates. Smallest One was sitting in his high-chair and smacking the hell out of some colorful cereal. Naruto was above them all, his hair like the sun and his whiskers all stretched out over his grin. Looking right at Sasuke.

“Have a good day at work!” Naruto said.

Sasuke did a quick sweep of the kids, verified that all of them were deliberately not looking at him, and gave Naruto the finger.

Naruto blew a loud, wet kiss at him.

Sasuke realized his expression had shifted from dead blank stare into disgust, which meant Naruto had won, godsdammit. He left before he embarrassed himself further. Before Naruto embarrassed himself further. Before Naruto’s disgustingly embarrassing qualities rubbed off on him.

He paused on the front stoop to push his glasses higher on his nose, squint at his watch, and then take to the roofs. Despite his early start, he was going to be late for his shift at the weapons shop. Tenten would be pissed.

Tenten walked her daughter to school and left her in the somewhat creaky care of Iruka-sensei, who ran the daycare nowadays. Iruka smiled down at her and she tried to steal his kunai out of his thigh holster. Momo was getting good with kunai thanks to Haruno Elle’s tutoring. Neji had even brought it up, and he was notoriously quiet in his praise. It meant something when he saw his daughter hit the target every single time.

She dropped by Neji’s apartment on her way to work to remind him that it was his turn to have Momo for the weekend. He answered the door with his hair wadded up in a bun and his glasses on the end of his nose, deep circles under the pale Hyuuga eyes that Momo had inherited.

“You look like hell,” Tenten informed him.

Neji nodded like he was underwater. “I just got back from a mission.”

Tenten smiled. “I can do your hair for you if you want.”

“Yes,” Neji said.

Tenten laughed and kissed his cheek. “Momo and I missed you.”

“Tell me what happened while I was away,” he said, holding the door open for her. She saw an empty energy drink can on his kitchen table and an unopened one next to it. There were writing utensils out but no papers. He’d probably put them away before she came in. His job was highly classified and she knew he had to work on classified information while intel was still fresh, but she frowned nonetheless; it was clear he really needed to take a nap.

“I had some more problems with Sasuke,” Tenten called, ducking into Neji’s room to grab a brush and comb. She kept her eyes from straying to the clothes hamper. She knew she’d see his ANBU gear there. Hopefully it was only sweatstained, not scraped up or smeared with rust-colored patches. It would only make her worry.

“You always have problems with him,” Neji pointed out. “He’s your worst employee.” He pulled the elastic out of his hair as he settled gracefully onto a stool.

“He’s my only employee, and he’s a dick,” Tenten said. “He’s good at whatever I ask him to do, though. Which doesn’t make him less of a dick.”

Neji nodded silently.

Tenten dragged the brush through her friend’s hair, careful not to pull to hard. “Come on, you can say it. You can agree with me. I know he’s a special operative, you must have to deal with him almost as much as I do.”

“You really shouldn’t know who’s in ANBU,” Neji said. “We wear masks for a reason.”

“I’m not stupid. Naruto’s easy to read and he’s always edgy when Sasuke’s out of the village. And the only way he’d be allowed out of the village at all is if he was with ANBU. Even though the man has a tracking seed under his skin and most of his chakra pathways closed off. I swear Naruto’s always ten seconds from dropping his Hokage hat and chasing after him.”

“Those two are not subtle,” Neji said. “They haven’t been subtle since the Academy.”

Tenten shrugged, then remembered Neji didn’t have his Byakugan activated and therefore couldn’t see what she was doing behind him. “I mean, I don’t like to assume. People still think we slept together to get Momo.”

If she didn’t know him so well, Tenten would have missed the little huff of air that meant Neji had just given the world’s smallest laugh. “This village runs on gossip.”

“They think I’m cheating on you every time Ino smooches me in public,” Tenten went on. She tied off one braid and began a new one. “They don’t understand why we don’t live together. Apparently wanting your own space is incomprehensible. And you have guys sleep over and I don’t want to hear that.”

“I imagine people might get very vocal whenever I have someone stay overnight here,” Neji said dryly. “I’m no Hyuuga heir but they still expected me to marry some nice second-cousin and settle down to the heteronormative life. I’ve been lucky so far. Subtle and lucky. Don’t listen to what people say, it’s all invasive nosiness on their part.”

“Oh, I don’t listen,” Tenten assured him. “I’m just telling you that maybe you shouldn’t assume Naruto and Sasuke are a thing.”

“They are a thing,” Neji said. “They certainly aren’t a normal thing, but they’re something.”

“Okay, I have to agree with you on that,” Tenten laughed. “Hah, about the only person in our class who has a nuclear family is Sakura, and I still say she and Lee have some kind of arrangement with Sai.”

“Now you’re gossiping,” Neji said.

Tenten tugged on the end of the braid as she tied it off. “I know you don’t spread rumors around.” She pulled both braids together so that they met behind his head, then began braiding the two braids and a third, loose lock of hair together.

“I don’t,” Neji agreed. “So tell me, what did Sasuke do this time?”

Tenten let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s more like what he didn’t do,” she said, and launched into the rant she’d been building all week.

“Who can show me their shuriken skills?” Shino asked.

The line of eight-year-olds in front of him stared in solemn silence. It was as Shino had expected. He raised a finger and pointed to a girl a head and shoulders above the rest of her class, despite her attempts to slouch down. “Nara, demonstrate.”

Nara Shikakumo’s mouth twisted stubbornly. “Why do I have to?”

“I can!” piped up a soft yet determined voice. A hand waved down in front.

Shino kept his eyes on Shikakumo. “You don’t have to, but it would be nice to set a good example for your classmates.”

“I can do that!” squeaked the voice again.

Shikakumo pulled absently on one of her stiff pigtails and raised her eyes to the sky. “I think Elle wants to set an example, Shino-sensei.”

“Yes!” said Haruno Elle. She was a breathy, jittery little girl with too much black hair, too much enthusiasm, and eyes as green as her mother’s. She skittered up next to her teacher before he could even sigh and surrender. She pulled out her weapons, notched and battered because no way they were letting kids near the new shuriken when they were this inexperienced.

There was a moment of complete stillness, like a deep breath. The sun brightened as it came out from behind a cloud. No one made a sound, which was impressive considering the age group Shino was dealing with. Then Elle’s hands blurred and the air was filled with the solid thunk of metal in wood.

Elle stood frozen for a moment, hands outstretched, and then punched the air with both fists. “Yes!”

Every target was hit dead-on. Her classmates murmured in awe. Even Uzumaki Kazuki looked up from where she was petting the ninja dog Zakuro. It was usually quite difficult to get Kazuki to pay attention to anything. For this, she even brushed her long hair out of her wide, serious eyes.

“That was fukkin sweet!” Inuzaka Yumi yelled.

“Excellent as always, Haruno,” Shino said with a warning glance at Yumi. He was going to have to sit down with her and have a discussion about her vocabulary. “Do you think you could do it again a little slower?”

Elle stared up at him. “What? Why?”

“We couldn’t see what you did,” Shino explained. “You’re very fast.”

“Oh.” Elle looked down at her small hands. They were wrapped like her father’s but she’d insisted on getting bandages that were as pink as her mother’s hair. “I guess I can slow down.”
“All right,” Shino said. “Anyone who couldn’t see earlier, come closer. Not that close, Yamanaka.”

Yamanaka Inori crossed his arms over his chest but took a few steps back. He huffed a breath that ruffled his blonde bangs. Elle grinned at him over her shoulder. She had turned back to her targets before she caught the way his eyes widened.

Shikakumo poked him. “Your crush is showing.”

Inori twitched and blushed but didn’t say anything. Instead, he watched as Elle slipped into that point of frozen tension, took a breath, and then with much less speed but no less precision, unleashed.

Sakura ordered the biggest coffee that they carried at the tea shop. She stared at it for along moment before chugging the entire thing. She felt marginally more awake and human after finishing it. Director Nohara was easing out of her responsibilities and into semi-retirement with a bitter, clinging, miserly attitude and it was making it ten times more difficult for Sakura to take over her hospital managerial duties. Thank goodness Lee was happy being a stay-at-home dad and Sai could be counted on to babysit in a pinch because Sakura did not have time for home-life complications. She was dealing with administrative complications instead.

“Sakura.”

She looked up at Sasuke and tried to smile. “Hi, Sasuke. Have a seat. Did you order anything?”

“No.”

There was one of those awkward pauses where he really should have elaborated, and then Sakura stepped in to move this meeting along. “All right. So, I’m assuming that since you’re roommates with Naruto you’ve met Kazuki.”

Sasuke’s face was completely blank. She’d had fifteen years to figure him out, though, and she knew by now that when Sasuke looked like he didn’t care what was happening, he actually just didn’t understand what was happening. He would wait for her to explain herself, or he’d hope to figure things out with context clues. Sakura closed her eyes for a moment to gather mental strength, then she pulled out a file.

“Kazuki was adopted by Naruto as a baby. She’s eight now. Brown hair, very quiet?” Sasuke’s chin lifted and Sakura decided he knew who she meant. “Kazuki’s part of our… let’s call it low-key efforts to figure out what Orochimaru thought he was doing in his ‘research.’”

Sasuke blinked at the name, which was surprising. It was hard to crack him. Oddly satisfying, too. She could see why Naruto had made it a family activity once Sasuke moved out of Guy’s protective custody and into Naruto’s.

Sakura kept talking. “She’s not a clone but Kazuki is the offspring, via artificial insemination, of Team Seven’s former substitute leader Yamato. We wanted to see if we could keep wood jutsu in the village, Yamato agreed to it so long as Naruto took care of her, it all worked out. So far she hasn’t shown any affinity beyond earth but that’s probably because we aren’t abusing her. Which we aren’t going to start doing, by the way,” Sakura added hastily. Sasuke hadn’t changed expression at the implication of child abuse but she still wanted to be clear. “We’re kind of… testing the kekkei genkai waters, if you will. Any bloodline trait that is only acquired and cultivated through trauma is going to be allowed to fade. The fact that the council is allowing this loss of ninjutsu is actually a result of Yamato’s work on PTSD and trauma recovery.” Sakura shook her head in admiration. “He really figured out how to turn the shinobi world around.”

Sasuke remained blank-faced, arms crossed over his chest like the sullen child she could still see in her mind’s eye sometimes.

“Have you figured out why we’re meeting yet?” Sakura asked, sick of this waiting game.

Sasuke turned to look around the rest of the cafe. To a casual observer it probably looked like boredom but to Sakura it was further proof that Sasuke wasn’t the genius everyone had thought he was when they were younger. He had no idea what she was talking about.

“Sharingan,” Sakura said.

His head snapped around. His eyes stayed black, of course—he didn’t have chakra to waste nowadays—but it was still surprising to see him move like a ninja. He wasn’t allowed in the field. He wasn’t allowed out of the village without an escort. He wasn’t allowed to work in a capacity that might bring him into contact with genjutsu or ninjutsu. The only indulgence that the village allowed him was taijutsu-only sparring with a jonin-class partner. Lee said it was almost as good a workout as when he sparred with Sakura, which was a compliment that had led to their first child. In this moment, though, Sakura remembered that the man in front of her had been S-rank back in the prewar days. It was still in the way he moved.

“That got your attention,” she said.

Sasuke’s lip curled. “Yes.”

“The kekkei genkai of the Uchiha, which now consists solely of you, is a dominant inherited trait,” Sakura said. “But it’s only awoken through extreme trauma and distress, and thanks to Yamato’s work in improving shinobi mental health, yours is not really a kekkei genkai that the village needs to support. This leaves you with options. Do you want to pass it on?”

“That’s not happening,” Sasuke said.

“I mean, yeah you’re a pariah,” Sakura said, “but maybe someone’ll pity-wed you for your money or something.”

Sasuke glared and Sakura grinned at him. There was still nothing better than convincing Sasuke to have a facial expression.

“I hate you,” Sasuke said.

“Why are you so sure you won’t have kids the old-fashioned way?” Sakura said. “I’m offering you the newfangled way but I’m curious now.”

Sasuke still glared but. Holy shit. He was turning a very faint rose-pink. Sakura leaned forward. She was going to savor this humiliation.

“I’m…” Sasuke shook his head. “Not your business.”

“I know you’re fucking Naruto,” Sakura said.

Sasuke wheezed as if she’d punched him in the gut. “What.”

Sakura nodded. “He told me. Took you two long enough. It’s been, what, eighteen years since your first kiss? However long it took, he’s still pretty pleased with himself.”

Sasuke buried his face in his hands. “He’s dead.”

“Nah,” Sakura said. “He’s kind of disappointed you aren’t a cuddler, but that’s what he has Gaara for, so.”

Sasuke’s head shot up. “What.”

“Oooh, not my place,” Sakura said, leaning away. “Never mind. Sorry, that’s a conversation the two of you will have to have. I just wanted to gloat a little. I won a major shinobi-wide betting pool, by the way. It’s going to pay for some serious overhauls at the hospital, so your gay tryst is for a good cause.”

“I hate this fucking village,” Sasuke growled. “I wish I’d destroyed it in the Fourth War the way I planned to.”

“Wouldn’t have worked, but yeah, keep saying treasonous shit while the Hokage bangs you,” Sakura said.

Sasuke gagged. “Stop saying it out loud.”

Sakura cocked her head, smirking. “What’s the matter? You’re the one doing him—”

“Stop!” Sasuke slammed a hand on the table. Her empty cup jumped and clattered to the floor. All the other patrons stared.

“All right, all right,” Sakura hissed around a fixed smile. “Calm the hell down. None of this is why I called you out. Do you want Uchihas around the village again or are you willing to let this particular bloodline trait go?”

Sasuke took a deep breath. “Can I think about it.”

“Absolutely,” Sakura said. “Talk it over with Naruto, too. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind another kid but it never hurts to ask first. No way in hell I’m letting you raise a kid on your own, you don’t even remember your boyfriend’s kid’s names.” While Sasuke glared at her and turned red again, she stood up and pulled her bag full of files onto the table. She dug through for a moment, then held out a brown envelope sealed with a tight little nodule of secure, chakra-infused characters. “Here’s our plan if you want to read it and show it to your, ahem, ‘roommate.’ Let me know by the end of next week, all right? Don’t worry about it too much, though. The way things have been going, I can be at least ninety-five percent sure that the world won’t end if the Uchiha kekkei genkai fades into legend.”

Sakura didn’t bother trying to shake Sasuke’s hand, but simply gave him a nod and left. She had a date to keep with Ino and she refused to miss it for an emotional mess like Uchiha Sasuke.

Shikamaru covered a yawn when his daughter prodded him awake. “Yeah?”

“Elle’s here to practice throwing techniques,” Shikakumo said. “Can you show us?”

“Yeah. Gimmie a minute. Where’s your brother?”

Shikakumo shrugged. “I dunno.”

“It’s your job to make sure he gets home with you,” Shikamaru said. He rolled over, seeking the patch of sunlight he’d lost, and then stretched. “What time is it? You’re already out of school?”

“Like, hours ago,” Shikakumo said.

“Dammit,” Shikamaru said. That meant Uzumaki Tetsuo was going to come by for tutoring soon. He was an orphan from the fringes of the Nara clan, put up in an orphanage for all of a week until Naruto had adopted him. Privately, Shikamaru thought the kid was a little bit too into the ‘Pain aesthetic’ that had swept over the village after photos of the heavily pierced Paths of Pain circulated in a ten-year anniversary history spread. Tetsuo had a lot of metal in his face. He had shadow affinity, too, and there was no way Naruto could train that. Tetsuo was actually getting decent at shadow techniques, but it was a good thing Shikamaru had taken that nap first; teaching always wore him out.

“Hi, Mr. Nara,” Elle piped up from behind Shikakumo. “Um, I think Chosora’s with Inuzaka Yumi right now.”

“Ah,” Shikamaru said. He straightened up quickly. “I better go get him.”

“But you said you’d show us some new strategies for hitting moving targets,” Shikakumo whined.

“You should have brought your brother home with you if you wanted me to do that,” Shikamaru said. He shuffled into the foyer and dug for his sandals in the pile of shoes. He got the right one of his but every time he dipped into the heap for the left shoe he came up with one of Choji’s shoes instead. He set them aside and kept digging. The sleeves of his huge sweatshirt kept slipping down his arms. Was the sweatshirt Choji’s too? He couldn't remember anymore.

Shikakumo threw her arms around his neck. “But Daaaaad!”

“Don’t be annoying,” Shikamaru said. Though her sharp little pigtails were the same pale blonde as her mother’s, the texture was closer to his hair. The hair crammed in his ear was like steel wool. “I’ll be right back. You two can snack until I get back. Don’t practice anything until I’m here to supervise, though.” He finally pulled his left shoe free and yanked it on, then twisted until he could squeeze the particular spot right under Shikakumo’s ribcage that was especially ticklish. “Let go, I have to get your brother.”

Shikakumo squealed and jerked away. “Daaaaad!”

“There’s fruit in the bowl on the table and Choji just bought more chips,” Shikamaru said. “No more than one bag or else he gets grumpy.”

“I know, I know,” Shikakumo said. She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Thanks, Mr. Nara,” Elle offered. He waved at the two of them, the tall blonde who insisted on four pigtails so she’d look like Mama Temari and her tiny black-haired shadow with a bright grin and bright green eyes. It was always a little eerie to see familiar features on new faces.

Shikamaru meandered towards the Inuzaka household. The day was mostly overcast. Not the best time for cloudwatching. He tilted his chin back and stared up at the sky anyway. It was going to rain tonight.

Kiba and his sister were both out on missions, so Tsume was apparently on babysitting duty. She was glaring at her granddaughter’s ratty brown hair when Shikamaru wandered up. The little girl was sitting between her grandmother’s knees, playing fetch with her dog Zakuro. Chosora was nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, Mistress Inuzaka,” Shikamaru said. “Is Chosora here?”

“Sent him home,” she grunted. She sank her fingers into Yumi’s hair and pulled out something shiny between her pinched fingers. “How did you even braid all this crap in your hair?”

Yumi giggled but didn’t answer.

Tsume clamped a hand to her head and held her granddaughter still, digging through her hair with renewed gusto. “Shit! These braids are matted as fuck. We’re gonna have to shave this mess.”

Yumi yelped in horror. “No! My stuff!”

“Why’d you send him home?” Shikamaru said. “When, I mean?”

“Ten minutes ago,” Tsume snapped, still focused on Yumi’s hair. “You shouldn’t be tying shit in your hair, Yumi! We pulled you out of that dumpster and into our lives so you could befriend animals, not become them. This is magpie behavior!”

“Fuck off!” Yumi screamed, struggling.

“Hell no!” Tsume said.

Shikamaru backed away. “Which direction did he go?”

“I sent him home,” Tsume snapped, finally meeting Shikamaru’s eyes. Her face was locked into a permanent glare that she leveled straight at him. “I suggest you check there.”

Shikamaru raised his hands with a sigh and kept backing off. He hopped up on the roof of the next house and strolled along the tiles, peering left and right. He spotted Chosora’s flat, mousey head after a few minutes. Predictably, he was heading into the Yamanaka flower shop. Shikamaru rolled his eyes and followed him in.

“Chosora,” he called, swatting a faceful of lilies out of the way and ducking lilac bushes. The shop was far too cluttered with plants these days. Ino was terrible at running a business. She had her mind elsewhere half the time. Being a single mother of two (neither of whom knew who their fathers were, and neither of whom cared) was time-consuming, as was her work at the Uchiha Memorial Psychiatric Hospital. Various relatives took care of things for her, of course, because she was far too good at getting other people to do her work for her, but having that many people working wasn’t the best way to maintain a cohesive business management plan. Not that she gave a shit about that, of course.

“Chosora,” Shikamaru called again.

“Dad?”

Shikamaru squatted down beside a rack of flowers, nudged some pansies aside and unearthed Chosora’s thin, worried features. “Tsume said she sent you home. What’re you doing here?”
Chosora’s eyes darted away. “Uh.”

“I know they’re nice plants but if someone sends you home, you come straight home,” Shikamaru said. “Ino and Inori aren’t here and I didn’t know where you were.”

Chosora nodded, hair falling in his eyes. His red-rimmed eyes. There were smeary marks down his tattooed cheeks. He was a bit of a crybaby, just like the man who had adopted him as the Akimichi heir had been at that age. He didn’t cry for no reason, though, just as Choji never had.

“Did Tsume scare you?” Shikamaru said.

Chosora nodded again.

Shikamaru sighed. “She’s annoying. She’s not gonna hurt you or anything, though. Come here.”

Chosora bit his lip. He shuffled around the flower display and twisted his fist in the fabric of Shikamaru’s sweatpants.

Shikamaru ruffled his son’s hair. “Don’t worry me, okay?”

“Okay,” Chosora said. He glanced up. “Can, uh. Can I see your headband?”

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. “What? I guess.” He pulled his Leaf forehead protector out of the pouch pocket of his sweatshirt and held it out.

“No,” Chosora said, “the other one.”

Shikamaru smirked and tucked the forehead protector away again. “I keep the Fourth War headband at home. I can pull it out when we get there. Why do you like that one so much?”

Chosora shrugged. “I dunno. It’s a cool story. You were really good in the war and stuff. Grandpa talks about it.”

“Yeah, Choza would,” Shikamaru said. He ruffled his son’s hair again, fingers clinking against unexpected metal and glass. “Hey, did Yumi give you this beaded braid?”

Chosora winced. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

“I was ‘really good in the war and stuff,’ remember?” Shikamaru said. “And now I advise our ditzy Hokage. It’s my job to notice.” He untwisted Chosora’s hand from his pants and held it instead, leading his kid out of the shop and back towards home. “It looks like a weird dreadlock, Chosora. Did she braid glue into it?”

“…wax,” Chosora muttered.

“Oh gods,” Shikamaru sighed. “That entire family is so annoying.”

Sai was working on his gesture drawings. He was also listening to the one-sided conversation between the Uchiha heir and Lee. It didn’t mean much to him because every time they got too far away he’d lose the thread of what Lee was saying but it was a possibility to gain valuable insight into Uchiha Sasuke and that was good enough reason to stay alert.

Every now and then, he checked that Inku was still sleeping in his ink and paper hammock. He was a good, quiet toddler, so unlike his sister that it was eerie. Sai enjoyed the contrast. It meant he was gaining experience with a range of children and child-rearing techniques.

Lee flashed past, grinning widely. Sasuke was breathing hard but his attacks had not lessened in speed, intensity, or fury. This was his time to burn off aggression and he was not wasting it.

“You are always improving, Sasuke!” Lee said happily. “Well done!”

Sasuke didn’t speak.

Sai leaned over and gave Inku’s hammock a nudge. Inku sniffed in his sleep. It was adorable.

Lee blurred into being suddenly. He settled down by Sai and reached over to poke at Inku. “And how is he holding up?”

“Sleeping,” Sai said, batting Lee’s hand out of the way before it could land on Inku’s cheek. “Let him.”

“Elle never slept this much,” Lee said. He scootched closer to his son and frowned worriedly. “Are you sure he’s all right?”

“Yes.”

Lee nodded slowly, then turned to look around. “Sasuke declared an end to our sparring. Shall we return home? I haven’t started dinner for Sakura yet. Elle is eating at the Nara-Akimichi household tonight. Your babysitting services will not be required, but of course you are welcome to come to dinner.”

“All right,” Sai said. He packed up his drawing supplies and then carefully eased Inku onto his shoulder. Lee hovered nearby. He’d been fine with Elle as a baby. She’d been colicky and violent and never, ever tired and Lee had sat up all night with her so Sakura could sleep between hospital shifts. Sai often arrived to relieve him on babysitting duty to find that Lee was doing sit-ups with his daughter balanced on his legs. The man was tireless and he dealt with his first child in a tireless manner.

Inku was quiet. He would sleep through meals and wake to stare at the world before sleeping again. He never smiled. He cried rarely. He didn’t move much, even though he was two years old now. He seemed content to watch and wait. He still hadn’t spoken, though he had tried to steal Sai’s paintbrush many times. Sai let him, on occasion. What emerged were smeary globs of paint on paper; he was only two. Perhaps Sai would be able to teach him when he was older.

Lee didn’t know what to do with Inku, though. Sakura was delighted by him, just as she’d been delighted by Elle, but Lee was bewildered by his still and silent child.

“Uchiha has worked off his sexual frustrations to a sufficient degree?” Sai asked.

Lee blinked. “What?”

“Uchiha experiences a great deal of confusion now that he is living with Naruto,” Sai said. “In the past five years, since he moved out of Might Guy’s custody and into Naruto’s, he has increased your sparring sessions each month. They returned to pre-living-with-Naruto levels three months ago, but he calls and schedules last-minute on occasion. I surmise he and Naruto have begun a physical relationship that is infrequent enough to leave Uchiha frustrated and, I suspect, inescapably aroused. Exercise is his tactic for dispelling these feelings, and you are always willing to spar with him to the best of your ability. He is forbidden and restrained from genjutsu and ninjutsu, after all, so pure taijutsu is his only means of release. In all senses of the word. Sakura told me not to tell you all this speculation, but I find keeping secrets to be an abhorrent activity.”

Lee blinked again. “Oh.”

Sai hefted Inku higher on his shoulder. “Do you think he left satisfied today?”

Lee’s huge, honest eyebrows were knit with concern. “I have no idea. I didn’t realize any of this. Maybe I should ask him next time?”

“Maybe you should,” Sai agreed. “I’m still not always certain about how well I interpret others’ reactions, and Uchiha in particular is very difficult to read.”

“You’re right,” Lee said.

“What are you going to make for dinner?” Sai asked.

“What do you feel like?”

Sai smiled faintly and shrugged with the shoulder that Inku wasn’t drooling on.

Director Nohara Rin crossed another name off her list. “Okay, we discharged the Sarutobi girl. She’s with her mom now. Kurenai should be able to calm her down.”

“Got it,” Head Doctor Haruno Sakura said. She updated the computer chart. Rin let her deal with all the digitizing efforts; paper charts were all she knew and since she was probably only a few years from complete retirement anyway, there was no reason to learn a new record keeping system.

“We’re still working with the Hyuuga on their clan-wide paranoia shit,” Rin said, circling four names in quick succession. “I swear, I’m gonna get them to stop putting that fucking tattoo on kids if it’s the last fucking thing I do.”

“Yes, Director,” Doctor Haruno said, smiling as she clicked through menus or whatever the hell computers did.

“Hinata’s on our side about this,” Rin said. “And Neji, if he wasn’t busy all the damn time. You think he’d come in to talk to the kiddos about the process of sealing, make it clear how fucked up it is?”

“If we can schedule him,” Doctor Haruno said. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, deep in thought, then shrugged. “I’ll ask him. Tenten said he’d be back for the weekend at least. And his daughter is growing up, it might start weighing on him more the older she gets.”

“I doubt it’s ever been far from his mind,” Rin said grimly. “Why can’t all the clans be led by good-willed idiots like that Naruto?”

Doctor Haruno sighed. “There’s no one in the world like Naruto, Director. It’s a mercy, I promise you.”

“Oh yeah, you were genin teammates,” Rin said. She smiled at the woman who’d be taking over her job whenever she decided to retire. “You both did pretty good for yourselves, huh?”

“Yes,” Doctor Haruno said.

“That Uchiha was the rotten apple,” Rin said. She shook her head. “What a prick.” Doctor Haruno snorted, but Rin frowned. “You met with him for coffee, yeah?”

Doctor Nohara’s smirk vanished. “Yes, Director. He’s thinking about it.”

“I don’t like these eugenics programs they’re making us run,” Rin said.

“I know,” Doctor Haruno said.

Rin stalked over to the window Yamato had made her yesterday when he realized how little natural light her office got. She glared out over the rooftops of Konoha. “Orochimaru was a sociopath. Probably beyond even our mental health division, and that says something because we’re top notch. And now we’re doing his work for him, just a few decades later. It’s fucked up, I don’t mind telling you.”

“It’s all voluntary though, Director,” Doctor Haruno said. “We aren’t making anyone do anything they don’t want to. Not even the surrogates.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rin muttered. She ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t had a chance to shower in a while and it was starting to show. She could feel the grease against her fingertips.

“Rin?”

Rin turned. “Yamato!”

Yamato smiled uncertainly at her. “Hello. Good afternoon, Sakura.”

“Hi, Yamato-sensei,” Doctor Haruno said. She clicked through a couple more menus on the computer screen, then closed everything out and stood up with a groan. “This means I can go in for my shift in surgery, right Director?”

“Yeah,” Rin said. “Thanks, Doctor Haruno, you’re a lifesaver. Same time tomorrow?”

“Yep,” Doctor Haruno sighed. “Hospital work is never done and the world would fall apart if we ever did.” She went up on her toes to give Yamato a quick hug, then snagged a clipboard and walked out of the office with her white coat billowing behind her.

Yamato looked after her, bemused. “Every time I see her, she’s more like you.”

“I’m undoing Tsunade’s bad habits,” Rin said primly.

Yamato turned his smile on her. “Oh?”

“Yes. Never get angry until you absolutely have to, and then never punch unless nothing else will do. And be intimidating as hell all the time.”

“That’s a symptom of the times we’ve created, though,” Yamato reminded her. “Ask questions first, punch later is a relatively new philosophy for most shinobi.”

“They’re learning damn quick,” Rin said. “I’m seeing some very satisfying progress.”

“Good,” Yamato said.

“You ready to go to dinner?” Rin said.

“Yes.”

“Sweet.” She started unbuttoning her lab coat. “Iruka made curry. And Aoi might be in, if she doesn’t have a babysitting job or a mission or something.”

“Did she make chunin yet?”

Rin snorted. “Ages ago. Did I forget to tell you? She’s not pushing for jonin yet, though. More like her dad and me than the 'ideal ninja' bullshit they're still trying to sell these kids. She’s babysitting for the Uzumakis and the Yamanakas, can you believe that?”

Yamato slumped. “Coming back here always makes me feel old.”

“I fucking live here, how old do you think I feel?” Rin snapped. She tossed her lab coat over the back of her desk chair, grabbed her purse, and linked her arm with Yamato’s. “I bet that’s why Kakashi refuses to come around. He’s not the youngest anything anymore and I imagine that’s bizarre for him.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Yamato said. “But he also likes it out there.”

“You two are crazy,” Rin informed him. “Amazing, that he’d finally fucking retire and buy a farm.”

“It’s both of ours,” Yamato reminded her. “We both bought it.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you still do missions and shit. He’s full-time retired to a farm. Still blows my mind.”

Naruto cleared his throat. “All right, kiddos,” he shouted. “Homework hour!”

There was a chorus of whining from everyone except Kazuki. She just ducked her head. Naruto gently tugged a few strands of her long brown hair and grinned when she looked up through her bangs. She gave him a shy smile back.

“Kasumi, you help Ai with their hand seals,” Naruto ordered.

Kasumi grinned from where he was sprawled on the floor. “Got it, Dad.” Naruto’s oldest son swatted playfully at Ai’s bare feet. Ai kicked at him. It was hard to see behind the high collars Ai liked to wear, but Naruto thought he caught a faint smile.

Naruto turned to his second oldest son and asked, “Tsuyu, since Tetsuo’s working with Shikamaru right now can you keep an eye on Haruto and Yuzuki?”

Tsuyu scratched at his bright red hair. “Um. I have kind of… sensitive work to do.”

“Whatcha got this time, Tsuyu?” Naruto asked.

“Sealing techniques,” Tsuyu said shyly. “You know what my chakra’s like…”

“Yeah, you gotta do things the smart way instead of the dumb way,” Naruto laughed. “It’s good you don’t have your old man’s chakra reserves! I’m soooo bad at all that sealing stuff, yanno. Sai knows about it, though, and Tenten’s pretty good. You can ask them for help if you want. And Sasuke should be home soon, he know about that kind of thing.”

Tsuyu winced. “I don’t think Sasuke wants to help me practice seals.”

Naruto flapped a hand dismissively. “Sasuke doesn’t have anything else to do, he can help you out. Go ahead and get started. Kasumi, you mind watching the little ones while your brother does seals? Think you can help Ai and keep Yuzuki on track and Haruto happy?”

“No problem,” Kasumi said. He shifted until he was sitting with his back against the couch. He reached out for Haruto, who cooed happily and crawled into his lap without any complaints. Yuzuki smiled at her oldest brother around her thumb but stayed by her stack of worksheets. She was getting through her numbers with almost no trouble at all, much to Naruto’s pride. He had such smart kids.

“You’re all the best!” Naruto yelled.

“Go away, Narudad,” Ai said, but they said it around a grin.

“I love you guys! Okay, I’m gonna start dinner, you call me if you want help or something, yanno!” Naruto ducked out of the room.

He still had the same instincts, years after the last ninja war. He stopped himself from slamming into Sasuke with a kunai, but only just.

“Careful,” Sasuke said, his voice as flat as ever.

“You be careful, sheesh,” Naruto muttered. He tucked his kunai away and straightened up.

Sasuke was wearing some of the ugliest bifocals in the world. It was kind of funny but also a signal that everyone in the village still distrusted him. Even the opticians didn’t want to make his life easier. They gave him whatever they couldn’t get rid of and thus he was stuck with glasses too large and square for his head, a bad haircut (that part was Naruto’s fault), and an ill-fitting wardrobe (only sort of Naruto’s fault; Sasuke needed to start shopping for himself). More than a decade hadn’t gotten rid of Konoha’s wariness. Naruto hadn’t given up on getting people to see that Sasuke had changed, but Sasuke wasn’t exactly helping his case. He didn’t talk to anyone. Tenten had him making weapons and sharpening kitchen utensils in the forge, away from the front of her shop. He picked up shifts at the daycare intimidating children into learning sums, tutored a few braver ninja in sealing techniques, and sometimes vanished for weeks at a time and came back battered but tight-lipped about it. He was probably ANBU to some degree, but Naruto didn’t want to know.

But they were sleeping together? Naruto wasn’t sure how that had happened but it was pretty neat. He and Gaara shared a bed whenever Naruto visited Suna but that was strictly cuddling. Sleeping with Sasuke had intent. There was a clear winner at the end of it, though they were sometimes pretty evenly matched. Naruto didn’t always have the time for it, of course, and he’d started passing out for nine to twelve hours a night, but a couple times a month they’d duct-tape the new cracks in the bedframe and call it good. Naruto would make loud, cheerful jokes about it whenever possible and Sasuke would give him a death glare.

Sasuke was glaring at him right now. That didn’t mean anything, though. Sasuke glared in his sleep. He was getting permanent old-man wrinkles, it was hilarious.

“What’s up?” Naruto asked.

“I had a meeting with Sakura today,” Sasuke said.

“Yeah? How is she? She’s always busy when I ask her about stuff, yanno. She’s got that hospital to run and she still has to fight Doctor Rin for her job and all that. How’d you get her to talk to you?”

“She wanted to ask me about preserving my Sharingan.”

Naruto frowned. “Like a creepy eye surgery? That doesn’t sound like Sakura. She and Doctor Rin get real pissed whenever anyone talks about dissecting people when they’re still alive to see—”

“No,” Sasuke interrupted. “Like me passing on my kekkei genkai genetically.”

“Oh. You gonna do it? Like how Captain Yamato did, with the whole jerk-off-in-a-cup thing?”

Sasuke’s lip curled in disgust. “Why does everyone assume I’ll take that route?”

Naruto’s eyes widened. “What, you wanna get married to a lady?”

Sasuke tucked his fingers under the nosepiece of his glasses and pinched the skin there. “No.”

“Okay, so it’s the jerk-off-in-a-cup route then,” Naruto said. He grinned. “Oh man, more babies! I friggin love babies, yanno!”

Sasuke was glaring again. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh. Okay, so don’t,” Naruto said. He shrugged. “No one’s gonna force you. Doctor Rin and Sakura make sure of that now. Nobody’s gotta do anything they don’t want to.”

“Do you really believe that?” Sasuke said quietly.

Naruto cocked his head. “Yeah?”

“Hm.” Sasuke looked away, back down the darkened hallway, as if he expected someone to materialize behind him and demand that he surrender his genetic material ASAP. No one did materialize, and Naruto snickered to himself at the image of an ANBU agent waving a plastic cup and some porn in Sasuke’s face. Konoha wasn’t going to experiment on people anymore, not while Naruto was Hokage!

“Hey, can you help Tsuyu with some sealing stuff?” Naruto asked, since this particular conversation seemed to be over. “I’m soooo bad at sealing techniques and you’re really good at it. Don’t make him cry, though. He thinks you’re super cool and he’s shy.”

Sasuke turned back to Naruto, expressionless. “When does Captain Yamato next visit the village?”

Naruto shrugged. “Ask Kazuki, she’ll know. Nicely, though.”

Sasuke’s eye twitched. “I will ask her.”

“Cool, I’m gonna start dinner,” Naruto said. He slapped Sasuke on the shoulder as he passed him, then started singing a song he’d been working on his entire life: “Ramen, ramen, raaaaaamennnnn, oh ramen!”

Behind him, he heard Sasuke sigh, “Idiot.”

Naruto left a shadow clone behind in the hallway to spy and started on pork ramen. He was almost done when memories suddenly rushed into him—the clone had banished himself. The last image the strongest one because it had been the shadow clone’s final experience.

Tsuyu bent over a sheet of graph paper, tracing shapes with a brush, tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. Kazuki curled on the couch, her hair pooling on the pillows. Kasumi holding Hotaru on his chest and lifting Yuzuki into the air on his feet. Ai running through hand seals. Tetsuo opening the front door. Sasuke nowhere to be seen.

“I’m home!” Tetsuo called as the memory faded.

“Good timing!” Naruto yelled back. “Everyone get in here and eat all this ramen I made!”

He snagged Kazuki’s shoulder as she passed him on her way to serve herself ramen. “Hey, Kazuki, where’d Sasuke go?”

She peered up at him through her bangs. “Went to find Yamato-sensei,” she said softly.

“He’s here right now?” Naruto said, frowning. “You two trained today?”

Kazuki shook her head. “Just yesterday. He got me lunch today but then he had a meeting. He leaves tomorrow morning.”

“Oh. Well, Sasuke gets cold ramen then. Get in there and serve yourself some of the good stuff!”

Naruto couldn’t help glancing out the window. The sun was setting. He didn’t really expect to see Sasuke and Yamato having a conversation right outside his house. If had expected it, he would have been disappointed. The odds were really, really good that Sasuke would be back, though. Probably in just an hour or two, even! He usually said if he had to leave unexpectedly for more than a couple hours.

Naruto held on to those odds.

Ino reapplied her lipstick slowly, savoring the waxy feel of it going on. She tucked her lips into her mouth and bit down lightly to smooth the color out, then pouted at herself in the mirror.

“Mama?”

Ino spun around on her vanity’s little stool. “Kei! How does Mama look?”

“Prettiest,” her youngest son told her solemnly. He was five and wouldn’t look anyone in the eye, which Sakura said was indicative of something or other. Ino didn’t care. He was talking finally, at five years old, and while he didn’t like hugs he would braid her hair for hours. Inori insisted on keeping his hair close-cut so Kei wouldn’t play with it, but that was some kind of rebellious phase he’d grow out of, Ino was sure of it.

“Kei,” Ino said.

He was looking at his shoes. It was hard to get him to remember that he should answer to his name. He’d learned that he should answer anything people asked when they prefaced their words with ‘Kei,’ though, and Ino saw that as a step in the right direction.

“Kei,” Ino said again, “Mama’s heading out. You and Inori have to mind Aoi, okay?”

“Yes,” Kei said.

“You boys are always so good. I made your dinner already,” Ino said. “It’s in the fridge, all specially wrapped and packaged just how you like it. You have to eat all the pork in there, okay?”

Kei didn’t answer.

“Kei, you have to eat all your meat for dinner, understand?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Ino said firmly. “Kei, there are five pieces of pork. How many do you have to eat?”

Kei stared at the floor for a while.

“You know how many. Kei, how many pieces of meat do you have to eat?”

“Five.”

“That’s right. I made your favorite stir-fry veggies, too. You can eat twice as many green beans as meat. Kei, how many green beans are you going to eat?”

“Ten.”

“That’s my boy,” Ino said, smiling. She reached over and gently tugged on a lock of her son’s hair.

“Hair hug,” he said.

“Hair hug,” Ino agreed. She held out a piece of her own hair and he wrapped it around his little fist. Then he let her go and wandered away.

Ino turned back to her face in the vanity. She patted her cheeks and smiled with all her teeth. She really liked the woman she was seeing tonight. Her makeup was going to get so messy and it was going to be fun. And then she’d come home and shower and kiss her boys goodnight…though they might be getting up for school by the time she got home, and in that case she’d make them breakfast and then take a leisurely nap and roll in to work at noon. Sakura wouldn’t yell at her too much. It didn’t pay to have a memory specialist who was too tired to get a patient through trauma recall and recovery sessions.

Ino fluttered her eyelashes at herself in the mirror. Tonight was going to be excellent.

Yamato was heading back to his hotel after his dinner with Rin and Iruka when Uchiha Sasuke stepped out of the lengthening shadows and fell into step beside him.

“Good evening,” Yamato said politely.

Sasuke grunted.

Yamato stayed quiet. Sasuke had never approached him before. He had never exchanged words with the man. This was unprecedented.

“You,” Sasuke said suddenly, but he didn’t seem to know what to say next.

“Yes?” Yamato said after a moment.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

“Somewhere private?”

Yamato considered. “As in a bar or as in my hotel room?”

Sasuke shrugged.

“What will we be talking about?” Yamato asked.

“Your kid.”

“Ah. Bar then, if you have no objection,” Yamato said.

Sasuke gave him a sharp look but all he said was, “That’s fine.”

Yamato led them to a basement establishment that was loud and civilian-oriented enough to ensure eavesdropping would be difficult. He bought himself a beer. Sasuke stuck with water, though Yamato noted how his eyes flicked to the mix drinks menu and his gaze lingered on the margarita listing.

“What would you like to ask me about Kazuki?” Yamato asked when they were both seated in a booth that offered relative privacy.

“Why’d you agree to do it?” Sasuke asked bluntly. “Did they make you have her?”

Yamato sipped at his beer and thought. “They didn’t force me,” he said slowly. “But then, I have always believed in putting the village and the mission ahead of myself. Not necessarily ahead of others, but certainly ahead of my own personal safety and sense of morality. You do not have such a mindset, I think.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t deny it. So they'd approached him about the Sharingan after all, Yamato thought.

“When Sakura came forward with the proposal to try keeping village kekkei genkai alive, I agreed,” Yamato continued. “And I have spent nine years reflecting on that decision.”

Sasuke stiffened. “Ever since then? You regret it?”

“Yes,” Yamato said. “For… odd reasons, though. For my own reasons.”

“Why?” Sasuke said.

Yamato drank a bit more before he found the right words. “I’m involved with someone who isn’t interested in a life raising children. I thought I was okay with that, but once Kazuki existed I was less sure of my choices. The idea of raising a child was suddenly appealing to me. I should have discussed it with my partner more. As it was, I mentioned that I was going to do my part to continue the Senju kekkei genkai and then we never really spoke about it again. We still haven’t.”

“Oh,” Sasuke said.

Yamato smiled faintly at the man. “I don’t think that you’ll have the exact same problem. I imagine Naruto would be delighted to have another child, and since you live with him you’d get to experience the process of child development.”

“I don’t want kids,” Sasuke said.

“So why do you live with so many?” Yamato asked.

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed again. He didn’t answer, but Yamato nodded in understanding anyway.

“We’re in the same situation approached from different angles,” Yamato said. “I’m with someone who doesn’t want children, you’re with someone who does. We both compromised in a way that was actually just giving in. I’d suggest you talk with Naruto about this more than I did with my partner. That’s what I wish I’d done. Even though I think I know how the conversations would have ended, I wish we’d had them.”

“You’re in charge of training her,” Sasuke said. “The quiet one. It’s not enough?”

“It’s different,” Yamato said. “Kazuki knows what we both are, but I have made it clear that since she thinks of Naruto as her father, I’m just a mentor and a teacher and she isn’t obligated to think of me any other way. I imagine she’ll want to talk about it more when she’s older. If she doesn’t, that’s fine as well.”

“That’s. Is that fair?” Sasuke asked.

“She’s eight,” Yamato said. “I’m forty. I would rather things be unfair for me than for her.”

Sasuke was frowning. “Does your ‘partner’ know she exists even?” Yamato could hear the emphasis on ‘partner’ that was always a question—exactly what kind of partnership do you mean?

Yamato simply said, “Yes.”

Sasuke gave him a long look. Yamato finished his beer, smiling a little.

“And?” Sasuke said.

“And it’s my business,” Yamato said. “Not yours.”

The words “And not my partner’s” were on the tip of his tongue but Yamato stopped them. Even if it was true, it was the wrong thing to say. Because Kakashi was not the same as Naruto. Kakashi had made it abundantly clear that whatever Yamato did when he was away was his own business (as long as it wasn’t “fucking other people or writing sappy poems or doing sexy calendar photoshoots without inviting me to watch”). In contrast, Yamato knew that Naruto would want to be involved. Naruto would want to know all the facts. At this point, with a decade of being Hokage under his belt, he might even be able to understand all the facts.

“Talk to Naruto,” Yamato said. “The decision is yours in the end. Do you want the Uchiha gift to continue, knowing its bloody history and how it has been exploited in truly horrific ways? It’s still a gift, of course. It’s an asset to a village at war. In times of peace, who knows what it could be. Do you use it?”

Sasuke was staring at him. “What?”

“Do you activate your Sharingan nowadays?” Yamato asked.

Sasuke shook his head slowly. “My chakra’s completely sealed except on missions. I’ve used it eight times in the past fifteen years.”

Yamato’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah, so ANBU did get you. I’d wondered. Why do you do missions for them, knowing their history with your clan?”

Sasuke looked away. “Gets me out.”

“Any freedom at any price,” Yamato said softly.

Sasuke’s mouth twisted.

“You would be creating a person,” Yamato said. “I wasn’t thinking about that when I agreed. I didn’t think about it until Kazuki was almost three. By then it was clear that she wasn’t like me and she wasn’t like the other Senju I had known. She was herself. And realizing that made me consider even more if I’d done something right. She’s happy, I think. She is loved, I’m certain of that. She’s safe. It’s more than I had. Sometimes the Will of Fire feels real to me. We have made progress for the younger generation.”

Sasuke’s eyes met Yamato’s. Yamato put on a faint smile, something patient but not condescending.

“Don’t forget that any child with your blood is still an individual,” Yamato said. “Anything else you wanted to ask me?”

Sasuke shook his head slowly. His face was empty.

“I’ll be around if you do have more questions,” Yamato said. “I would appreciate an update if you care to give me one at some point. Director Nohara Rin knows where to find me.”

Sasuke jerked back in his seat. “Wait.”

Yamato raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Who’s your partner?” His dark eyes were wide behind his glasses, as if he was realizing something horrifying.

Yamato shrugged. “Guess.”

“No,” Sasuke whispered. His hand was clamped around his glass of water, his other hand gripping the table with white knuckles.

Yamato didn’t even try to hide his laughter. “Good luck, Uchiha Sasuke. Think carefully. Don’t do anything that leaves you with regrets.”

“Are you and Kakashi-sensei…?” Sasuke hissed.

Yamato just grinned at him. As he left, his grin faded. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. He was too old for nighttime travel, otherwise he’d leave now to get home to Kakashi. They wouldn’t talk about any of this, but somehow when Yamato was around him, it didn’t matter what they talked about. They had probably had he same conversations a thousand times over the past twenty-odd years, and Yamato knew they would keep having them and it would keep making him feel home.

“Tomorrow,” he muttered to himself. He dug in his fannypack and pulled out the most tattered, unrecognizable volume of the Icha Icha series. He cracked open the binding and started chapter one. It was a little like being home.

Kakashi tightened the knot in his skirt. The baggy, faded orange fabric with a pattern of yellow pawprints was always slipping down if he wasn’t careful. He threw his trowel on top of the mulch he’d piled in the wheelbarrow last night and set off for his tomato plants. He had to weave his way through his dogs to get there. It was hard to see the smaller ones in the pale light of dawn. Pakkun cracked one eyelid as he passed, then let that eye close again and released a sleepy fart.

Kakashi stopped at the beginning of a row of heirlooms and adjusted his straw sunhat. Shiba and Biscuit had fought over it last week and chewed out huge chunks, but it was still a good hat. He picked up his trowel and squatted down, bare toes digging into the soil. The smell of dry, sun-warmed earth filled his nose. The only thing he wore over his face nowadays was an eyepatch, and he was started to get a very weird tanline. Tenzo seemed to appreciate how many freckles he got in the sun. He kept trying to connect the dots. It was cute as hell.

Kakashi patted the new mulch around the roots of the first tomato plant. He prodded under the leaves, but no tomatoes were ripe yet. Still too early. Ah well, Tenzo wasn’t here to rush things. Kakashi didn’t like to make him rush things anyway. Waiting was a luxury he could afford now.

He straightened up with a grunt and moved to scoop up more mulch.

It hit him suddenly. Not the way lightning hit, but the way water could rise and cover him. In the way earthquakes had aftershocks. Kakashi’s epiphany was like that.

It was just past six in the morning. He could sleep ten hours a night if he felt like it, but he didn’t always want to. He hadn’t held a kunai in years. It was that time of year when summer heat was rising but things were still green from spring; the best time of year in Kakashi’s opinion. He had crops to tend to, he was learning to knit socks with heels now that he’d mastered double pointed needles, and he could sew. Just skirts so far, but he had hope. He was working in the farm he owned with Tenzo, a man he’d been living with for a couple decades and change. He was surrounded by his dogs whenever he felt like it. He had chakra to spare now. He was over forty, a retired ninja instead of a dead one.

“Shit,” Kakashi said quietly. He said it like a prayer. He said it the way other people said ‘thank you.’

He took a deep breath through his uncovered mouth, which turned into a yawn. Then he got back to his tomato plants. Tenzo was coming home today. Who knew when he’d show up, but when he did Kakashi was going to fuck the shit out of him on principal, and he didn’t want to leave his tomato garden only half-mulched.