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Chapter Text

Age 6-7, First Grade

The morning sun filtered through the windows of Nagi Village Elementary School, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floors. The building was old—older than most of the parents of the children who attended—but well-maintained in that particular way small Japanese towns managed their public institutions. Pride mixed with pragmatism; tradition blended with necessity.

In classroom 1-B, twenty-three first-graders sat at their desks in varying states of attention. Some were eager, backs straight and hands folded. Others were already fidgeting, six-year-old energy barely contained by the structure of the school day.

Iruka-sensei stood at the front of the class, young and enthusiastic in his first year of teaching. He was doing his best to wrangle the chaos that was a room full of six-year-olds on the third week of school.

"Now, everyone, we're going to go around and introduce ourselves again. I know we did this on the first day, but I want everyone to really listen this time, okay? When someone is speaking, we show respect by listening quietly."

A hand shot up immediately—a boy with spiky blonde hair and bright blue eyes, practically vibrating in his seat.

"Yes, Naruto?"

"Can I go first, Sensei? Please, please, please?"

Iruka suppressed a smile. Naruto Uzumaki was... a lot. Loud, energetic, desperate for attention in a way that made Iruka's heart ache when he thought about it too much. The boy was in the foster system—not adopted, just shuffled between temporary placements. No parents, no family, just a kid trying way too hard to make people notice him.

"Alright, Naruto. You can go first."

Naruto jumped up, knocking his chair back slightly. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto! I like ramen and I'm gonna be the most important person in this village someday! Everyone's gonna know my name and respect me! Believe it!"

A few kids giggled. One rolled his eyes.

Iruka's smile was genuine this time. "That's a wonderful goal, Naruto. Thank you for sharing. You can sit down now."

Naruto beamed and sat, looking around to see if anyone was impressed. Most kids had already lost interest. Except one.

A girl with dark blue hair and pale lavender eyes was staring at Naruto with wide, intense focus. When he glanced her way, she immediately looked down at her desk, cheeks flushing pink.

"Alright, how about... Sasuke? Would you like to go next?"

A boy with dark hair and darker eyes stood up with considerably more composure than Naruto. He was small for his age but carried himself with unusual seriousness.

"Uchiha Sasuke. My family runs Uchiha Security Solutions. My father is a private investigator. I'm going to be like him when I grow up." He sat back down, clearly finished.

"That's wonderful, Sasuke! Does anyone have any questions for Sasuke?"

Naruto's hand shot up. "What does your dad investigate?"

Sasuke looked at Naruto with mild interest—the first classmate who'd asked him an actual question rather than just staring. "Corporate crimes. Missing persons. Background checks. Things like that."

"Cool!" Naruto said enthusiastically. "That's like being a detective!"

"Essentially, yes." Sasuke nodded once, and something like the beginning of mutual respect passed between them.

"Thank you, boys. Let's continue. Sakura?"

A girl with pink hair and large green eyes stood up slowly. She was dressed neatly—not in the expensive way some of the kids from wealthier families were, but carefully. Her mother had clearly put effort into her appearance.

"I'm Haruno Sakura," she said softly. "My parents own Haruno Grocery Store. I... I like reading and I want to be a doctor when I grow up."

Her voice got quieter with each word. Some kids were already whispering—she could see them looking at her forehead, probably thinking it was too big.

She sat down quickly, cheeks burning.

"A doctor! That's an excellent ambition, Sakura. We need more doctors in the world. Thank you for sharing."

Sakura nodded, keeping her eyes down.

"Hinata? Would you like to go next?"

The girl with lavender eyes stood up shakily. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper and she stammered badly.

"I-I'm Hyuuga H-Hinata. M-my family... we own Hyuuga Corporation. We do r-real estate and construction. I... um..." She trailed off, face bright red, clearly overwhelmed.

"That's alright, Hinata. Thank you for sharing. You can sit down." Iruka's voice was gentle. The Hyuuga girl was painfully shy—he'd have to work on building her confidence.

Hinata sat down quickly, and immediately her eyes drifted back to Naruto. He wasn't looking at her. He was leaning over to whisper something to the boy next to him—Kiba—and they were both stifling laughter about something.

Hinata's small hands clasped together on her desk. He's so confident, she thought. So brave. Even though everyone says he doesn't have parents...

"Neji?"

Another Hyuuga stood—this one a boy, slightly older-looking though he was in the same grade. His dark hair was longer, pulled back, and his eyes were the same pale lavender as Hinata's, but harder. More guarded.

"Hyuuga Neji. I'm Hinata's cousin. My father works for the Hyuuga Corporation in management." His tone was carefully neutral, but there was something underneath it—something sharp.

A few kids looked between Hinata and Neji, noting the family connection. Most didn't think anything of it.

But Iruka noticed the way Neji's jaw tightened when he mentioned his father working "for" the corporation. Not "at." Not "with." For.

He filed that away for later consideration. The introductions continued around the room.

A girl who was seated near the front of the classroom stood up with confidence, blonde ponytail swinging, "My family owns Yamanaka Flowers! We do arrangements for all the important events in town!" She was already a social butterfly at age six, scanning the room to see who might be friend material.

An indolent looking boy who had sat next to Ino stood reluctantly, hands in his pockets even though he'd been told multiple times to take them out, "Nara Shikamaru. My dad does something with forestry management. It's troublesome to explain." He sat back down immediately and put his head on his desk.

"Shikamaru, please sit up properly."

"Too tired, Sensei."

Iruka sighed. It was only 9 AM.

Next, a larger boy stood cheerfully, "Akimichi Choji! My parents own a restaurant! We make the best food in town!" He had a bag of chips in his pocket that he'd been sneaking from since class started.

Kiba, who had previously been whispering and laughing with Naruto practically shouted his introduction, "Inuzuka Kiba! My family breeds dogs! I have a puppy named Akamaru and he's the best dog ever and one day I'm gonna have a whole pack of dogs!"

Another boy with dark hair spoke so quietly most kids couldn't hear him, "Aburame Shino. My family studies insects." Several kids made faces. Shino didn't seem to notice or care.

A girl wearing her brown hair in a twin bun hairstyle introduced herself simply, "Just Tenten. My parents own the martial arts supply shop. I'm gonna be the best martial artist ever." She was already competitive at six, eyes scanning the room as if measuring everyone else.

A boy sporting a bowl-shaped haircut and bug like eyes stood up next with startling enthusiasm, "I am Rock Lee! My foster father runs the community center! I will work harder than everyone and become a great person!" His earnestness was almost overwhelming.

And so, introductions continued throughout the roster of students on Iruka’s list. The group of kids who would grow up together through elementary, middle, and high school.

The morning lessons dragged on—basic hiragana practice, simple arithmetic, a story read aloud by Iruka-sensei. Finally, the bell rang for recess.

Twenty-three first-graders exploded out of their seats and into the schoolyard.

Sakura headed for the swings—they were her favorite. If she could get one before they were all taken, she could swing by herself and not have to navigate the complicated social dynamics of the playground.

She was halfway across the yard when she heard laughter behind her.

"Hey, look at her forehead! It's huge!"

Sakura froze.

Three older kids—probably third-graders—were pointing at her and laughing.

"She looks like an alien!"

"Billboard brow!"

The other kids on the playground were starting to look. Some were laughing too.

Sakura felt her eyes burn with tears. She turned and ran, not toward the swings anymore, but toward the back of the school building where there was a small garden area most kids ignored.

She collapsed behind the tool shed, pulled her knees to her chest, and cried.

Why did my forehead have to be so big? Why can't I be pretty like the other girls? They're right, I do look weird—

"Hey."

Sakura's head jerked up.

A blonde girl stood there—Ino, from her class. She had her hands on her hips and an indignant expression on her face.

"Those boys are jerks," Ino declared. She sat down next to Sakura without asking permission. "Don't listen to them."

"B-but it's true," Sakura hiccupped. "My forehead is too big."

"So what?" Ino said matter-of-factly. "You know what my mom says? She says a big forehead means you have a big brain. You're smart, right?"

Sakura blinked. "I... I guess?"

"See? You're smart. That's better than being pretty." Ino paused, then amended, "I mean, you can be both. But being smart is better."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah! And anyway, your hair is a cool color. I wish I had pink hair. Everyone has boring hair." Ino tugged at her own blonde ponytail. "We should be friends. I'm Ino."

"I know. I'm Sakura."

"I know." Ino grinned. "Come on, let's go back to the playground. If those boys say anything else, I'll kick them."

"You can't kick them!"

"Watch me."

And just like that, Sakura had her first real friend.

On the other side of the playground, Naruto was showing off.

He'd found a tree with low branches—perfect for climbing. Several kids had gathered to watch as he scrambled higher and higher.

"Naruto, that's too high!" one girl called.

"Nah, it's fine! I'm gonna climb to the very top! Then everyone will see how awesome I am!"

Sasuke was walking past, heading toward the quieter corner of the playground where he'd planned to read. He glanced up at Naruto's antics and paused.

"You should stop there," Sasuke called up.

"What? No way! I'm gonna—"

The branch cracked.

Naruto yelped and fell, hitting two more branches on the way down before landing hard on the ground.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Naruto started crying—not loud wailing, but the kind of crying you do when you're genuinely hurt and scared and trying not to show it.

His knee was scraped badly, bleeding. His elbow too. His hands were scratched from trying to catch himself on the branches.

The other kids started backing away—someone should probably get a teacher, but no one wanted to be the one to run for help because they might miss what happened next.

Sasuke walked over and looked down at Naruto for a moment.

Then he held out his hand.

"Can you stand?"

Naruto looked up at him through tears, surprised. "I... I think so..."

Sasuke pulled him to his feet. Naruto wobbled, putting weight on his scraped knee and wincing.

"You should go to the nurse," Sasuke said.

"I'm okay! I'm fine! I don't need—" Naruto tried to walk and nearly collapsed.

Without a word, Sasuke ducked under Naruto's arm, supporting his weight.

"Stop being stupid. You're clearly hurt."

"I'm not stupid!"

"Then stop acting like it."

Sasuke half-carried, half-dragged Naruto toward the school building.

Naruto was quiet for a moment, then before whispering, "Thanks."

"Hn."

"I'm Naruto! Uzumaki Naruto! We're in the same class but I don't think we've really talked yet."

"I know who you are. You're loud."

"Yeah!" Naruto grinned despite the pain. "That's me! What's your name again?"

"Uchiha Sasuke."

"Cool name! Hey, you wanna be friends?"

Sasuke glanced at him. This loud, injured blonde boy who'd just fallen out of a tree because he was showing off. Something about the desperate hopefulness in Naruto's eyes made Sasuke pause.

"...Sure."

"Really? Awesome!" Naruto's grin widened. "You're my first friend!"

"I find that hard to believe."

"No, really! The other kids think I'm too loud. Which I guess I kind of am, but—"

"You talk too much."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

Despite himself, Sasuke's lips twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile.

They reached the nurse's office, and Sasuke deposited Naruto in a chair. The nurse—a kind older woman named Shizune—took one look at Naruto's injuries and sighed. "Fell out of a tree?"

"How'd you know?!" Naruto asked, amazed.

"Because you're the third child this week." She began cleaning his scrapes. "Hold still, this might sting."

"I'm tough! I can handle—OW OW OW!"

Sasuke watched as the nurse patched Naruto up, applying antibiotic ointment and bandages.

"There. Try not to climb any more trees today, alright?"

"Okay..."

As they left the office, Naruto said: "Hey, Sasuke? Thanks for helping me. You didn't have to."

"You were hurt. Someone had to."

"Yeah, but you're the one who did." Naruto's smile was bright and genuine. "You're a good person."

Sasuke didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded.

They walked back toward the playground together, and something had shifted.

A friendship had begun.

Hinata had seen the whole thing from across the playground.

Naruto falling.

Sasuke helping him.

The two of them walking together toward the nurse's office, Naruto talking animatedly while Sasuke listened with what looked like mild tolerance but might have been actual interest. She wanted to help. She wanted to run over and ask if Naruto was okay.

But she was too shy. Too scared. What if he didn't want her help? What if she said something stupid and everyone laughed? So, she settled on standing behind the slide, watching, and felt her chest ache with something she was too young to name but would come to recognize as longing.

Naruto-kun is so brave, she thought. Even when he's hurt, he's smiling. He’s so...

Cool? Strong? Everything she wasn't?

She didn't have the words for it yet.

But she knew she admired Naruto Uzumaki.

And as the years would prove, that admiration would curdle into something far more complicated.

The elementary school cafeteria was loud and chaotic—exactly what you'd expect when you put a hundred children under the age of ten in one room.

Sakura and Ino had claimed a table together, their new friendship already solidifying over shared lunches.

"My mom makes the best tamagoyaki," Ino said, showing off her bento box. "See? Isn't it pretty?"

"It looks delicious," Sakura agreed. Her own lunch was simpler—rice balls and some vegetables—but neatly prepared.

"Hey, can we sit with you guys?"

They looked up. Naruto stood there with his cafeteria tray - he got free lunch through the school's assistance program. Sasuke was behind him, also with a tray, looking mildly annoyed at being volunteered for this social interaction.

"Um, sure?" Sakura said, scooting over to make room.

Naruto plopped down across from them enthusiastically. Sasuke sat more quietly.

"I'm Naruto! This is Sasuke! We're friends now!"

"I know who you are," Ino said. "We're in the same class, dummy."

"Oh. Right." Naruto laughed sheepishly. "Sometimes I forget people's names. There's a lot of us."

"I'm Ino. This is Sakura."

"Cool! Hey, Sakura, you're the one who wants to be a doctor, right?"

Sakura blinked, surprised he remembered. "Y-yes."

"That's awesome! Doctors are super important!" Naruto shoveled rice into his mouth. "I'm gonna be the most important person in the village someday!"

"You said that in class," Ino pointed out.

"Yeah! Because it's true!"

"You're very confident," Sakura observed quietly.

"Gotta be! Nobody else is gonna believe in me, so I gotta believe in myself!" Naruto grinned, and there was something almost heartbreaking about how earnest he was. Sasuke ate his lunch in silence, observing the interaction.

Ino was bold and outspoken. Sakura was quieter but clearly intelligent. Naruto was... a lot, but genuine in a way.

"Why do you want to be a doctor?" Sasuke asked Sakura suddenly.

Everyone looked at him in surprise—he'd been so quiet they'd almost forgotten he was there.

Sakura considered the question carefully. "Because... when people are hurt or sick, doctors can help them. Fix them. Make them better. I want to be able to do that."

"That's a good reason," Sasuke said simply.

Sakura felt her cheeks warm. The serious, smart boy from the Uchiha family thought her dream was good.

Something fluttered in her chest—the very first stirring of what would become a years-long crush.

"What about you?" Ino asked Sasuke. "What do you want to be?"

"Like my father. An investigator. Finding truth, exposing criminals."

"Cool!" Naruto said. "We should all work together when we grow up! Sakura can be the doctor, Sasuke can be the investigator, and I'll be... uh..." He paused. "What does the most important person in the village do?"

"That would be the mayor," Ino said. "Or the head of the largest company."

"Then I'll be mayor! Mayor Uzumaki! Has a nice ring to it, right?"

They all laughed—even Sasuke's lips twitched.

And in that moment, sitting around a cafeteria table with cheap food and big dreams, the foundation of their future relationships was laid. Friendships that would last decades. Crushes that would develop and complicate. Bonds that would be tested by betrayal and broken promises.

But for now, they were just six-year-olds sharing lunch and talking about impossible futures.

For now, it was simple.

At 3 PM, parents began arriving to pick up their children.

Ino's mother arrived in a nice car, it would seem Yamanaka Flowers was doing well. She hugged Ino and chatted warmly with other parents.

Sakura's mother, Mebuki Haruno, arrived on foot as the grocery store wasn't far. She greeted her daughter with a smile and a gentle hand on her head. "How was school, sweetheart?"

"Good, Mama! I made a friend!"

"That's wonderful!"

Sasuke's father arrived in a professional-looking sedan. Fugaku Uchiha was a serious man, tall and imposing, but when he saw his son, his expression softened slightly. "Ready to go, Sasuke?"

"Yes, Father."

"How was school?"

"Adequate. I made a friend."

Fugaku raised an eyebrow—that was more than he'd expected. "Oh?"

"His name is Naruto. He fell out of a tree."

"...I see."

Hinata was picked up by a driver in a luxury car. Her father was too busy, apparently. She climbed into the back seat alone and watched out the window as other children walked home with their parents.

Neji was also picked up by a Hyuuga car, but his father came personally. Hizashi Hyuuga was well-dressed but there was something tired in his eyes. "How was your day, son?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"School is easy."

"Don't become arrogant. Intelligence without effort means nothing."

"Yes, Father."

Naruto waited until almost all the other kids were gone. Finally, a woman from the foster care system arrived in a generic sedan. "Uzumaki Naruto?"

"That's me!"

"Ready to go?"

"Yup!"

She drove him to the current placement house—his third in two years. It was fine. The people were fine. They weren't mean, just... indifferent. Naruto went to his small room, pulled out his homework, and worked on it with determined focus.

I'm gonna work really hard, he thought. I'm gonna be so important that everyone will have to notice me. Then I'll have a real family and a real home and people will care that I exist.

He didn't cry about it. He'd stopped crying about being alone months ago. Instead, he thought about his new friends—Sasuke who'd helped him, Ino who was funny, Sakura who was nice.

Things were looking up.

At dinner, Sasuke's mother Mikoto asked about his day.

"I made a friend," Sasuke repeated.

"That's wonderful, sweetheart! Tell me about them."

"His name is Naruto. He's loud and impulsive but..." Sasuke paused, thinking. "Genuine."

Fugaku and Mikoto exchanged a glance.

"Is this the orphan boy?" Fugaku asked.

"He's in foster care," Sasuke corrected. "But yes."

"Be kind to him," Mikoto said gently. "Some children don't have the advantages you do. Having a friend might mean more to him than you realize."

"I know," Sasuke said quietly. He did know. He'd seen the desperation in Naruto's enthusiasm, the loneliness poorly hidden behind bravado. Sasuke had both parents, a nice home, stability.

Naruto had none of that.

The least Sasuke could do was be his friend.

Sakura told her mother and father all about her day over dinner—the mean kids, meeting Ino, having lunch with Naruto and Sasuke.

"I'm so glad you made friends, sweetie," her mother said warmly.

"Mama, the Uchiha boy—Sasuke—he said my dream of being a doctor was good."

"Did he?" Her mother smiled. "Well, it is good. You'll have to work very hard, but I believe in you."

"I will work hard! I'll work harder than anyone!"

Her father, Kizashi chuckled. "That's our Sakura. Determined."

Sakura went to bed that night thinking about green eyes and pink hair and big foreheads. And about dark-haired boys who said nice things without smiling.

Hinata sat through a formal dinner with her father, sister, and various extended family members.

"Hinata, you must speak up more in class," her father said sternly. "A Hyuuga should command attention, not shrink away."

"Y-yes, Father."

"The teacher sent a note saying you can barely be heard during presentations."

"I'm sorry, Father."

"Sorry isn't good enough. Do better."

"Yes, Father."

Later, in her room, Hinata looked at a school photo that had been taken on the first day.

In the class picture, there was Naruto—grinning broadly, messy blonde hair, bright eyes. She touched the photo gently.

Naruto-kun isn't afraid of anything. He speaks so loud and clear. He's so confident... I wish I could be like that.

I wish he would notice me.

The seeds of obsession, planted young.

Neji lived in a house on Hyuuga property, but it was smaller. Less grand. His father worked late most nights—middle management at the corporation, always busy, never quite important enough. Neji did his homework at the kitchen table, alone. He thought about how Hinata had stammered through her introduction. How weak she'd seemed.

She's going to inherit everything. All that power. And she can't even speak in front of first-graders.

It wasn't fair. But life wasn't fair. Neji had learned that already. He would learn it over and over again in the years to come.

Chapter Text

Ages 8-9, Third Grade

Two years had passed since that first day of elementary school, and the children had settled into their roles within the social ecosystem of Nagi Village Elementary.

Naruto was still the loudest kid in any room—his grades had improved from abysmal to merely below average, mostly through sheer stubborn effort. He was popular in a chaotic way; everyone knew him, though not everyone liked him.

Sasuke remained at the top of the class academically, excelling in everything with what appeared to be minimal effort. He'd grown taller, more serious, more self-contained. His friendship with Naruto had deepened still went strong, though they were still an odd pair—fire and ice, noise and silence.

Sakura had blossomed. Her friendship with Ino was rock-solid, and she'd grown more confident, though she still blushed furiously whenever Sasuke spoke to her directly. Her grades were excellent—third only to Sasuke and Shikamaru who tried to hide his intelligence behind laziness.

Hinata had not changed much. Still painfully shy, still stammering through presentations, still watching Naruto from afar. Her fixation had only intensified over two years. She knew his schedule, his favorite foods, the route he walked home. She even had "coincidental" meetings that Naruto never recognized as anything but chance.

And Neji—Neji had grown harder. More resentful. The unfairness of the Hyuuga family structure was no longer an abstract concept but a daily, grinding reality.

Iruka-sensei stood at the front of the third-grade classroom, now much more confident in his teaching after three years of experience. Nagi Elementary had a particular and rare school system where the teacher moved up with the class each year for all elementary grades until students reached middle school. This was implemented to combat the shortage of teachers in the village.

"Alright, everyone, settle down. We're starting a new social studies unit this week about community and economy. Your assignment is to create a presentation about your family's business or your parents' work. You'll present to the class on Friday."

Excited chatter filled the room.

"This is gonna be easy!" Kiba announced. "My family has the coolest business!"

"No way, mine is cooler!" Ino countered.

Naruto's enthusiasm dimmed slightly. He didn't have a family business. He didn't really have a family at all.

Sasuke noticed that Naruto went quiet. "You can present about what you want to do in the future," he said quietly. "That counts too."

"Oh! Yeah!" Naruto's grin returned. "I can talk about being mayor! That's gonna be awesome!"

Sakura overheard this exchange and felt her heart squeeze. Sasuke was always looking out for Naruto, even when he pretended not to care.

Hinata, sitting three rows back, had also been watching. She saw Naruto's momentary sadness, saw Sasuke comfort him, and felt a confusing mix of emotions. She wanted to be the one to make Naruto feel better. Why couldn't she be brave enough to talk to him?

On presentation day the classroom had been rearranged slightly with the desks pushed together in a U-shape so everyone could see the presenter at the front.

Iruka consulted his list. "Let's start with... Ino. You're up first."

Ino bounced to the front of the room. She'd brought a purple colored poster board covered in photos of flower arrangements.

"My family owns Yamanaka Flowers!" she announced proudly. "We've been in business for three generations. We do arrangements for weddings, funerals, holidays, and special events. My mom is the head designer, and my dad handles the business side. I help sometimes by cleaning up the shop and learning about different flowers."

She pointed to various photos. "This was the arrangement we did for the mayor's inauguration last year. This one was for the Hyuuga Corporation's anniversary gala. This one was for—"

"Ugh…," someone muttered.

Ino ignored it smoothly. "—the spring festival. When I grow up, I'm going to expand the business and maybe open shops in other cities. Questions?"

Several hands went up. Ino answered them with ease, clearly having prepared thoroughly.

"Excellent work, Ino. You can sit down. Next... Shikamaru."

Shikamaru trudged to the front with visible reluctance. He had no poster or visual aids to accompany his presentation.

"My dad is the director of forestry management for the prefecture. He oversees sustainable logging, reforestation projects, and wildlife conservation. It's important work but troublesome to explain in detail. The end."

He turned to go back to his seat.

"Shikamaru, that was less than thirty seconds."

"You didn't specify a time requirement."

Iruka sighed. "You need to elaborate more. What exactly does your father do day-to-day?"

"Lots of paperwork. Meetings. Inspections of forest sites. Planning. Like I said, troublesome."

"Can you at least tell us why forestry management is important?"

Shikamaru considered this with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Forests produce oxygen, prevent erosion, provide habitats for wildlife, and are economically valuable when harvested sustainably. Mismanagement leads to ecological damage and economic loss. My father prevents that. Can I sit down now?"

"...Yes, you may sit down."

As Shikamaru returned to his desk, Choji whispered, "You could've tried a little harder."

"Why? I said what needed to be said."

"Next up, Hinata."

Hinata walked to the front of the room with her poster board. Her hands were shaking slightly.

The presentation was polished—clearly prepared with help from tutors or family members. Professional photos of buildings, construction sites, real estate developments.

"H-Hyuuga Corporation was f-founded by my great-grandfather sixty years ago," Hinata began, voice quiet and stammering. "We specialize in r-real estate development, construction, and property management. The company employs over three hundred people and operates throughout the prefecture."

She pointed to various images with trembling hands.

"This is the new shopping complex in the n-next town over. We developed and built it. This is the apartment complex on the east side of Nagi. We own and manage it. This is—"

"Speak up!" someone called from the back.

Hinata's face flushed red. "S-sorry. This is... um... the office building downtown..."

She rushed through the rest of her presentation, voice getting quieter with each sentence. She didn't mention the company structure, the different tiers of employees, the way branch families were treated versus main family members. It was a sanitized, public-facing version of the truth.

"Thank you, Hinata. Well-researched. Work on your volume and confidence. You may sit down."

Hinata practically fled back to her seat. Naruto, kindhearted as always, gave her a thumbs up, with an encouraging grin as she passed. Hinata's cheeks burned brighter, and she stared at her desk for the rest of the presentations, heart racing.

He smiled at me. Naruto-kun smiled at me.

"Next, Neji."

Neji stood and walked to the front with controlled, deliberate steps. No poster board, no photos. Just a piece of paper with notes.

"I'll be presenting about working in family businesses," he said, voice clear and measured. "Specifically, what it's like when your family works for another family's business."

Iruka's attention sharpened. This wasn't quite the assignment, but it was close enough.

"My father, Hizashi Hyuuga, is the Director of Operations at Hyuuga Corporation. He manages the day-to-day business operations, oversees multiple departments, and has worked there for twenty years."

So far, so good.

"Despite his experience, qualifications, and contributions to the company's success, my father will never be promoted to the executive board. He will never have real decision-making power. He will always work for the family, never with them as an equal partner."

The classroom had gone very quiet.

"This is because Hyuuga Corporation, like many family businesses, operates on a hierarchical system based on birth order and family position rather than merit or ability. My father is from the 'branch family'—meaning he was a younger brother rather than the eldest. This single fact of birth determines his entire career."

Hinata was staring at her desk, face red, hands clenched.

“Only Hyuuga Corporation operates this way, favoring family connections over competence, maintaining power structures based on tradition rather than fairness. This creates an unjust system where talented people are held back simply because of circumstances beyond their control."

"Neji," Iruka interrupted gently, "this is supposed to be about your family's work, not a critique of business practices."

"This is about my family's work," Neji said coolly. "My father works hard every day in a system designed to keep him in his place. That's the reality of our family business."

There was silence.

"I see. Well, thank you for that... perspective. You may sit down."

As Neji returned to his seat, he passed Hinata's desk. Their eyes met for a brief moment. Hers were hurt and confused. His were cold and unapologetic.

Tell them the truth, his gaze seemed to say. Tell them about the branch family members. About the wage gaps. About the way the main branch family has operated for generations.

But Hinata looked away, and the moment passed.

It was lunch period. Most students flooded toward the cafeteria, but Neji headed toward his locker first located in the hallway.

"Neji-niisan!" He turned. Hinata was hurrying after him, looking distressed.

"Why did you say those things?" she asked, voice small but urgent. "You made Father's company sound... bad."

"I told the truth."

"But you made it sound like we're... like Father is..."

"Exploitative? Maintaining an unjust system?" Neji's voice was sharp. "Because he is."

"That's not fair! Father works hard! The company is successful because of his leadership!"

"The company is successful because of hundreds of employees, including my father, who work hard for less money and less respect than they deserve." Neji's eyes were hard. "You stood up there and showed pretty pictures. You didn't tell them that the construction workers get paid half what they should. You didn't mention that branch family employees have different colored badges—did you know that? Different badges to mark them as 'lesser.'"

"I... I didn't know about the badges..."

"Exactly. You didn't know because you didn't ask and didn’t think. You didn't care to look beyond the surface." Neji's voice was cold. "You're going to inherit all that power someday, Hinata. You could change things. But you won't, will you?"

"I don't... Father says traditions are important..."

"Traditions that hurt people?" Neji leaned closer. "Traditions that keep my father—your uncle—working twice as hard for half the recognition? Those traditions are worth maintaining?"

Hinata's eyes filled with tears. "I don't know what you want me to do, Neji-niisan! I'm only nine years old!"

"I want you to care," Neji said quietly. "I want you to see the injustice and decide it's wrong. But you won't. You're too weak."

"That's mean!"

"It's true."

He turned and walked away, leaving Hinata standing in the hallway, crying silently. Tenten who had witnessed the exchange from around the corner waited until Neji passed, then approached him.

"That seems sort of harsh," she said, falling into step beside him.

"It was honest."

"She's nine, like you said. It's not really her fault—"

"It will be," Neji interrupted. "Someday. When she has the power to change things and chooses not to, it will absolutely be her fault."

Tenten considered this. She'd been watching the Hyuuga family dynamics for a while now, Neji had told her bits and pieces about the unfair system, about his father's situation.

"My parents aren't rich or important," Tenten said thoughtfully. "They own a small shop. But they always say that how you treat people matters more than how much money you have. Sounds like Hinata’s family forgot that."

Neji glanced at her—this scrappy girl with her hair in twin buns, who spoke her mind and didn't care about social hierarchies.

"Your parents sound wise."

"They're pretty great." Tenten smiled. "Come on, let's get lunch. You can tell me more about this badge thing. That's really messed up." As they walked toward the cafeteria together, Neji felt some of his anger ease. At least someone understood.

At least someone cared about fairness as much as he did.

After lunch, presentations resumed.

"Sasuke, you're next."

Sasuke walked to the front with his presentation materials—a clean, professional dark blue colored poster board with printed photos and typed text. The Uchiha family might not be the wealthiest in town, but they valued competence and presentation.

"Uchiha Security Solutions," Sasuke began, voice clear and confident without being showy. "Founded by my father, Uchiha Fugaku, fifteen years ago. The company specializes in private investigation, corporate security, background checks, and threat assessment."

He pointed to a photo of the office—modest but professional.

"Private investigators help people find truth. Sometimes this means locating missing persons. Sometimes it means investigating fraud or theft. Sometimes it means conducting thorough background checks to ensure companies hire trustworthy employees."

The class was actually paying attention—this was more interesting than flower shops or forestry management.

"My father's most important work involves corporate investigations. He helps companies identify internal theft, fraud, or misconduct. He also works with lawyers to find evidence for legal cases. This work requires careful attention to detail, discretion, and integrity."

Sasuke's pride in his father's work was evident, though his expression remained composed.

"Private investigators must be licensed and follow strict ethical guidelines. They cannot break laws or violate privacy rights. Everything they do must be legal and provable in court if necessary."

He paused, then added, "This type of work is important because it helps expose truth and hold wrongdoers accountable. Without people willing to investigate and document evidence, many crimes would go unpunished."

Several students raised their hands with questions.

"Has your dad ever caught any really bad criminals?"

"He's helped solve several cases involving embezzlement and corporate fraud. I can't share details due to client confidentiality."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Sometimes. Mostly it's research and documentation. But occasionally people don't want the truth exposed, which can create risk."

"That's so cool! Are you gonna be an investigator too?"

"Maybe. Something in law enforcement that involves finding truth and ensuring justice."

Naruto was listening with intense focus. "Your dad sounds awesome, Sasuke!"

"He is," Sasuke agreed simply.

"Excellent presentation, Sasuke. Very thorough. You may sit down."

As Sasuke returned to his seat, Sakura caught his eye and smiled. He nodded slightly in acknowledgment, and her heart did a little flip.

He's so smart and capable, she thought. And his family's work is so important...

Her crush, already well-established, deepened another notch.

"Sakura, you're up."

Sakura walked to the front with her green poster board. It was not as polished as Sasuke's, but neatly done. Photos of her family’s grocery store were carefully arranged.

"Haruno Grocery Store," she began, voice steady despite her nerves. "My parents have owned the store for twelve years. We provide fresh produce, groceries, and household necessities to the community."

Some students were already losing interest, a grocery store wasn't as exciting as private investigation or big corporations. But Sakura continued with quiet determination.

"Small businesses like my parents' store are important to communities. We source from local farmers, which helps support other small businesses. We know our customers by name and help elderly residents who have trouble shopping. During the big snowstorm last year, my parents delivered groceries to people who couldn't leave their homes."

She pointed to a photo of the store interior. "My parents work seven days a week to keep the store running. They wake up at 5 am to receive deliveries and stay open until 8 pm. It's hard work, but they do it because they care about serving the community."

"Sounds boring," someone muttered, not quite quiet enough.

Sakura's cheeks flushed, but she kept going. "When I was old enough this year, I helped to stock shelves and learn how the register works. I've also learned more about inventory management, customer service, and a bit about business accounting. These skills will be useful no matter what career I choose."

She finished quickly. "My parents may not run a big company, but they provide an essential service. Everyone needs food. Everyone needs someone reliable to count on. That's what Haruno Grocery Store does."

She sat down, feeling like her presentation had been inadequate compared to others.

But then Sasuke said, just loud enough for her to hear, "Your family's store is useful. Everyone needs it. That's more important than impressive."

Sakura looked at him, surprised. "You think so?"

"Obviously. Flowers are nice. Big corporations are powerful. But everyone needs food to survive. Your family provides that."

It was matter-of-fact, logical, without a hint of pity or condescension.

Sakura beamed. "Thank you, Sasuke-kun."

The "-kun" had slipped out naturally. Sasuke noticed but didn't comment on it.

Ino, sitting nearby, rolled her eyes fondly. Her best friend's crush was painfully obvious.

Finally, the last student was called up to present, "Naruto."

Naruto bounded to the front of the room with energy that couldn't be contained. He had no poster board, no photos, no props. Just Naruto being Naruto.

"Okay, so, I don't have a family business to talk about," he began, and there was the briefest flicker of something painful in his eyes before his grin returned full-force. "BUT! I'm gonna talk about what I WILL do when I'm older! I'm gonna be the mayor of Nagi!"

Some kids giggled. Naruto ignored them.

"The mayor is the most important person in the village! He makes decisions that affect everyone! He helps people, solves problems, and makes the town better! That's what I'm gonna do!"

"You have to get elected," Shikamaru pointed out lazily. "People have to vote for you."

"Then I'll make them want to vote for me! I'll work really hard and help everyone and show them I can do it!" Naruto's enthusiasm was unshakeable. "I'll fix things that are broken! I'll make sure everyone gets treated fairly! I'll be the kind of mayor who actually cares about people, not just about being important!"

Despite the lack of structure or evidence, his passion seemed enough to be compelling.

"Mayors have to understand politics, economics, and law," Sasuke said—not mockingly, but as a genuine observation. "You'll need to study those subjects seriously."

"Then I'll study them!" Naruto declared. "I'll study so hard! I'll become the smartest mayor ever! You'll see!"

"What specific problems would you fix?" Iruka asked, genuinely curious.

Naruto paused, thinking hard. "Well... there are some kids at school who don't have enough to eat. The free lunch program is good, but some kids are still hungry. A good mayor would fix that."

The classroom went quiet. That had been unexpectedly thoughtful.

"And... some of the older buildings in town are falling apart. People live in places that aren't safe. A good mayor would fix that too."

"And... I'd make sure everyone gets treated the same, no matter if their family is important or not. Because everyone deserves respect."

He looked directly at Neji when he said this last part, and Neji's expression shifted to something like surprise.

"Those are good goals, Naruto," Iruka said warmly. "If you work hard and study seriously, you might actually achieve them someday."

"I will! I promise I will!"

As Naruto returned to his seat, Hinata watched him with shining eyes.

He cares so much about helping people, she thought. He's so kind and determined. He's perfect.

Her fixation solidified into something deeper, more obsessive. She would support him. She would help him achieve his dreams. She would be the perfect person for someone as wonderful as Naruto.

She just had to make him notice her.

Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto walked partway home together, their routes overlapping for several blocks.

"Your presentation was really good, Sasuke!" Naruto said. "Your dad's job is so cool!"

"It's necessary work," Sasuke said simply.

"I liked your presentation too, Sakura-chan! Your family's store is really important!"

Sakura smiled. "Thank you, Naruto. Your presentation was very passionate."

"Yeah, but I didn't have any pictures or facts or anything..."

"You had conviction," Sakura said. "That counts for something. But you do need to study more if you're serious about politics."

"I know, I know." Naruto groaned. "Studying is so boring though!"

"Then you won't be mayor," Sasuke said bluntly.

"Hey! That's harsh!"

"It's realistic. Being mayor requires understanding complex policies and laws. If you won't put in the work to learn those things, you won't succeed."

Naruto was quiet for a moment, then responded, "You're right. Okay! Starting today, I'm gonna study twice as hard! No, three times as hard!"

"That's still not very hard considering how little you study now," Sasuke pointed out.

"Sasuke-kun, be nice," Sakura chided gently, but she was smiling.

"I am being nice. I'm being honest. There's a difference."

Naruto laughed. "It's okay, Sakura-chan! Sasuke is a jerk, but he's right. I gotta work harder."

"I'm not a jerk."

"You kind of are," Sakura said, then quickly added, "but in a... helpful way?"

Sasuke looked between his two friends and allowed himself a small smile. "You're both ridiculous."

"But you like us anyway!" Naruto declared.

"...Hn."

That was as close to agreement as they'd get, and they all knew it.

They walked on together, three very different children bonded by genuine friendship.

Behind them, unseen, Hinata followed at a distance, watching Naruto laugh and talk with his friends, wishing desperately that she could be part of that circle. But she was too scared to try.

In the end, she just watched. And waited.

And hoped he'd notice her eventually.

At dinner, Sasuke mentioned the presentations.

"Neji Hyuuga gave an... interesting presentation," he said carefully. "About the unfair hierarchy in his family's company."

Fugaku set down his chopsticks. "What did he say specifically?"

Sasuke recounted the presentation, including Neji's comments about branch families and merit versus birth order.

His father was quiet for a long moment.

Before Fugaku could respond, Itachi spoke up from across the table. At fourteen, Sasuke's older brother was already in middle school, already showing signs of the brilliance that made his parents so proud.

"The Hyuuga system is feudalistic," Itachi said thoughtfully. "I've read about their corporate structure for a social studies project. The branch family designation is hereditary and inflexible. It's essentially a caste system disguised as business hierarchy."

"You've researched this?" Fugaku asked, interest sharpening in his voice.

"For a paper on corporate ethics and family businesses. The Hyuuga Corporation came up as a case study in... problematic traditional practices." Itachi looked at his younger brother. "Your classmate was right to call it out, Sasuke. Even at nine years old, he recognized injustice. That's noteworthy."

Sasuke felt a small glow of validation, if Itachi thought Neji was right, then he was definitely right.

"The people with power benefit from it," Fugaku continued his earlier thought, "and those without power have no means to change it. This is true of many institutions."

"Then why does it continue?" Sasuke asked.

"Because changing systems requires either internal reform from those in power, or external pressure strong enough to force change," Itachi answered before their father could. "The former requires powerful people to voluntarily give up their advantages, which rarely happens. The latter requires courage, evidence, and often comes with personal cost."

Sasuke looked between his father and brother—both saying essentially the same thing, both believing in the importance of exposing wrongdoing.

"But it's still worth doing," Sasuke said. "If something is wrong, it should be fixed."

"I agree," Fugaku said quietly. "That's why I do the work I do. Exposing wrongdoing, documenting evidence, helping build cases for reform."

Itachi nodded approvingly. "Just remember, otouto—pursuing justice isn't always safe. Powerful people fight back when threatened. You have to be smart about it."

"Are you in danger, Father?" Sasuke asked, concern threading through his voice.

"No, no," Fugaku assured him quickly. "I'm careful. I follow all laws and protocols. I'm just explaining that pursuing justice isn't always easy or comfortable."

Itachi caught Sasuke's eye across the table and gave him a small nod—a gesture of solidarity, of approval. Sasuke felt reassured. If both his father and Itachi believed in standing up for what was right, then that was the path to follow.

Mikoto, who had been listening quietly, interjected "What your father and brother mean, Sasuke, is that standing up for what's right takes courage. People like Neji, who speak truth even when it's uncomfortable—those people are important. Remember that."

"People like us," Itachi added quietly, and there was something in his voice, a promise perhaps, or a warning about the future. Sasuke nodded slowly, processing.

Sakura helped her mother clean up after dinner, then settled at the kitchen table to do homework. Her father joined her with his own paperwork which consisted of invoices and inventory lists from the store.

"Your presentation went well today?" he asked.

"I think so. Some kids thought it was boring compared to the fancier businesses."

"Let them think that. Your mother and I are proud of what we've built. We provide an honest service. We work hard. We treat people fairly. That's worth more than being impressive."

"Sasuke-kun said something similar," Sakura said, then blushed when she realized she'd used the honorific.

Her mother, washing dishes nearby, smiled knowingly but said nothing.

"Sasuke is the Uchiha boy?" her father asked.

"Yes. He's... he's very smart. And his family does important work. His father is a private investigator."

"Ah, yes. I've heard of Uchiha-san. Good reputation. Ethical, from what people say."

Sakura nodded, pleased that Sasuke's father was well-regarded.

"Is this Sasuke-kun a good friend?" her mother asked innocently.

"Yes! He and Naruto are both my friends. And Ino, of course."

"Just friends?" her mother teased gently.

Sakura's face went bright red. "Mama!"

Her parents laughed warmly.

"It's alright to have crushes, sweetheart," her mother said. "It's a normal part of growing up."

"I don't... I'm not..." Sakura gave up trying to deny it. "He's just... really cool."

"Then I hope he appreciates having such a clever, kind girl as a friend," her father said firmly. "And if he doesn't, he doesn't deserve your attention."

Sakura smiled. Her parents might not be wealthy or important, but they loved her fiercely and taught her to value herself. That foundation would serve her well in the years to come.

Naruto sat at the small desk in his room, staring at his math homework.

He'd meant what he said about studying harder. He was going to become mayor, and that meant he needed good grades.

But math was so boring.

He glanced at the calendar on his wall—he'd been in this placement for eight months now. Longer than any previous placement. The couple who fostered him were nice enough. They made sure he had food and clean clothes and got to school on time. But they didn't ask about his day. Didn't help with homework. Didn't come to school events. He was a responsibility they fulfilled, not a child they cared about.

Naruto looked back at his homework and forced himself to focus.

Someday, he thought, I'll be so important that people will HAVE to care about me. I'll be the mayor and everyone will respect me and I'll have a real family and everything will be different.

I just have to work really, really hard.

He bent over his homework with renewed determination.

Hinata sat at her desk, the essay her father had assigned open in front of her. But she wasn't working on it. Instead, she was looking at a photo from the school year's class picture. She'd cut out Naruto's image—carefully, precisely—and placed it in a small frame on her desk.

Naruto-kun wants to be mayor, she thought. He wants to help people and make things fair. He's so wonderful. If I can become someone worthy of him, maybe he'll notice me. Maybe he'll see that I believe in him, that I support his dreams. I just need to be better. Braver. More useful.

For Naruto-kun, I can change.

She turned back to her essay, determined to write something that would make her father proud. If she could be a better heiress, a better daughter, maybe she'd also become someone worthy of Naruto's attention. It didn't occur to her that this line of thinking—changing herself entirely to suit someone else's imagined preferences—was something deeply unhealthy. She was only nine.

She didn't know yet what she was building.

Chapter Text

Age 11, Fifth Grade

Spring had arrived in Nagi Village with the usual fanfare, cherry blossoms blooming in clouds of pink and white, temperatures warming enough that the children could finally shed their heavy winter coats, and the annual fifth-grade field trip to the Okayama Nature Reserve.

It was a tradition older than most of the teachers at the school. It was one full day of hiking, nature observation, and outdoor education. The students always looked forward to it—a chance to escape the classroom, run around in the woods, and eat packed lunches on picnic blankets. This year was no different.

The fifth-graders loaded onto two buses at 8 am on a Friday morning, chattering excitedly and carrying backpacks full of packed bentos, water bottles, and—despite being told not to—various snacks and contraband items. Iruka-sensei, now in his fifth year of teaching and considerably more experienced at managing chaos, stood at the front of the bus with a clipboard.

"Listen up! We'll arrive at the reserve in about forty-five minutes. When we get there, you'll stay with your assigned groups at all times. No wandering off alone. The trails are clearly marked, but there are some steep areas, so everyone needs to be careful and follow the rules. Understood?"

"Yes, Sensei!" came the chorus of responses—some genuine, some clearly just going through the motions.

Sasuke sat near the back of the bus with Naruto, who was bouncing in his seat with barely contained energy.

"This is gonna be awesome! I've never been to the nature reserve before! Do you think we'll see any wild animals? Maybe a bear? Or a—"

"There are no bears in that region," Sasuke interrupted. "Possibly deer, various bird species, and small mammals. Nothing dangerous."

"You're no fun, you know that?"

"I'm realistic."

A few seats ahead, Sakura sat with Ino, discussing their bentos and comparing notes on which trails they hoped their groups would take.

"I hope we get the waterfall trail," Sakura said. "I heard it's really pretty this time of year."

"As long as we don't get the boring flat loop trail," Ino agreed. "That one is just walking in circles."

Behind them, Hinata sat alone by the window, she'd hoped to sit near Naruto but hadn't been brave enough to ask, and by the time she'd boarded, all the seats near him were taken. She could hear his voice carrying from the back of the bus, loud and enthusiastic as always.

At least I can listen to him talk, she thought, and settled in to do exactly that for the entire bus ride.

Neji sat with Shikamaru several rows up—an odd pairing, but they'd been assigned as partners for the day by Iruka-sensei, who was trying to mix up the usual social groups.

"This is troublesome," Shikamaru muttered, already looking tired despite the day barely starting. "Why do we have to hike? What's wrong with learning about nature from books?"

"Physical activity is supposed to be good for you," Neji said dryly.

"That's what they say. I think it's a conspiracy to make us tired so we're easier to control in class."

Neji almost smiled. Almost.

Tenten sat with Lee, who was doing exercises in his seat—or trying to, until their teacher told him to sit still before he disturbed the other students.

"Lee, you're going to have all day to run around," Tenten said, exasperated but fond. "Save your energy."

"But Tenten-san! If I do not maintain my conditioning constantly, I will fall behind! Youth waits for no one!"

"You're eleven."

"Exactly! The prime age for building foundational strength!"

Tenten sighed but smiled. Lee was exhausting, but his enthusiasm was genuine and oddly endearing.

The buses rolled out of the school parking lot, heading east toward the nature reserve.

At 9 am, they arrived at the nature reserve to perfect weather. It was sunny but not too hot, with a light breeze that carried the scent of pine and wildflowers. The students tumbled off the buses in a barely controlled flood of energy and excitement.

"Groups! Find your groups!" Iruka-sensei called out, consulting his clipboard. "Group One: Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Kiba, and Shino! Your chaperone is Kakashi-san!"

A silver-haired young man in his twenties raised his hand lazily. He'd been recruited from the local high school where he taught, apparently, he owed Iruka a favor.

"Group Two: Ino, Choji, Shikamaru, Neji, and Tenten! Your chaperone is Asuma-san!"

A bearded man in his thirties—one of the parent volunteers—waved to his assigned group.

The group assignments continued with typical organizational chaos until finally everyone was sorted and ready to go.

Hinata ended up in Group Four with Lee and several students from other classes. Not ideal—Naruto was in Group One—but she'd manage. Maybe she could keep him in sight during the day.

"Alright!" Iruka called out once all groups were assembled with their chaperones. "We'll meet back here at 3 pm for departure. Stay with your groups, follow your chaperones' instructions, and be safe! Have fun learning about nature!"

The groups dispersed onto different trails, and the day officially began.

Kakashi-san turned out to be a very relaxed chaperone—arguably too relaxed.

"So, kids, the trail markers are pretty clear. Try not to fall off any cliffs. I'll be right behind you... somewhere." He pulled out a small book and started reading while walking.

"Is he serious?" Sakura whispered to Sasuke.

"Apparently," Sasuke replied, watching their chaperone narrowly avoid walking into a tree while reading.

"This is awesome!" Naruto declared, charging ahead on the trail. "Come on, slowpokes! Let's explore!"

"Naruto, wait!" Sakura called. "We're supposed to stay together!"

But Naruto was already twenty feet ahead, peering at something off the main trail. Sasuke sighed and followed, knowing from experience that someone needed to keep an eye on Naruto before he got himself into trouble. Kiba was enthusiastically examining animal tracks in the mud. "Look! These are definitely from a fox! Or maybe a tanuki? Shino, what do you think?"

Shino crouched down to examine the tracks with his usual quiet intensity. "Based on the size and spacing, likely a red fox. Tanuki prints would show more claw definition."

"Cool!"

Sakura hurried to catch up with Sasuke and Naruto, leaving Kakashi-san still reading his book and somehow not tripping over any roots.

The trail they were on was beautiful—winding through dense forest, with occasional clearings that offered views of the surrounding mountains. Birds called from the trees, and small streams crossed the path at regular intervals via wooden bridges.

"Hey, look at this!" Naruto had stopped at a fork in the trail. One path was clearly marked and well-maintained. The other was narrower, less defined, with a small sign that read: "DIFFICULT TRAIL - EXPERIENCED HIKERS ONLY."

"We should take this one!" Naruto said, pointing at the difficult trail.

"No way," Sasuke said immediately.

"Why not? It says 'experienced hikers' and we're walking here, that makes us hikers!"

"That's not how that works."

"Come on, Sasuke! Don't you want to see something cool? The easy trail is boring!"

"The easy trail is the one we're supposed to be on," Sakura interjected, though she couldn't help glancing down the difficult trail with some curiosity. It did look more interesting...

"We won't go far," Naruto pleaded. "Just a little way through! Just to see what's there! Then we'll come right back!"

"Kakashi-san is supposed to approve any route changes," Sasuke pointed out.

They all looked back. Kakashi-san was about fifty feet behind them, still reading his book, occasionally glancing up to make sure no one had died.

"He doesn't even know where we are," Naruto said. "Come on! Just a quick look!"

Sasuke was about to refuse again when Kiba and Shino caught up.

"What's the holdup?"

"Naruto wants to take the difficult trail," Sakura explained.

"Oh, cool! Let's do it!" Kiba was immediately on board with any plan that involved adventure.

"The probability of encountering interesting fauna is higher on less-traveled paths," Shino observed.

Now it was three against two.

Sasuke looked at Sakura. She bit her lip, clearly torn between following rules and satisfying her curiosity.

"Just... for a little while we can explore it?" she said hesitantly. "We'll turn back if it gets too steep or dangerous."

Sasuke felt outnumbered and overruled.

"Fine. But at the first sign of actual danger, we turn back immediately. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" Naruto was already heading down the difficult trail.

Sasuke and Sakura exchanged a look, both knowing this was probably a mistake, but following anyway. Behind them, Kakashi-san glanced up from his book, saw the group heading down a different trail, shrugged, and followed at his leisurely pace. Close enough supervision, right?

The difficult trail was immediately more interesting than the main path. It was narrower, wilder, with trees growing closer together and underbrush encroaching on the edges. The path climbed more steeply, requiring actual effort rather than just casual walking.

"See? This is way better!" Naruto declared, scrambling over a fallen log.

"It's definitely more scenic," Sakura admitted, pausing to look at a cluster of wildflowers she didn't recognize. Sasuke stayed close to her, hyper-aware of the uneven terrain and the fact that there were no safety railings on this trail.

"Look! There's something up ahead!" Naruto pointed to where the trail curved around a rocky outcropping.

They followed the curve and emerged into a small clearing with a spectacular view—rolling green hills stretching out below them, the valley visible in the distance, and the sound of running water suggesting a stream or waterfall nearby.

"Whoa," Kiba breathed. "Okay, this was totally worth it."

"Indeed," Shino agreed quietly.

Even Sasuke had to admit it was impressive. They spent a few minutes enjoying the view, with Naruto dangerously close to the edge as he tried to see as far as possible.

"Naruto, get back from there," Sasuke said sharply.

"I'm fine! I can see the whole—whoa!"

His foot slipped on loose gravel.

For one heart-stopping moment, Naruto windmilled his arms, trying to regain balance, teetering on the edge of the drop. Sasuke lunged forward and grabbed the back of Naruto's shirt, yanking him away from the edge. They both tumbled backward onto safer ground.

"Are you insane?!" Sasuke snapped, probably the angriest any of them had ever heard him. "You almost fell!"

Naruto was pale, the reality of what almost happened sinking in. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't realize how close I was..."

"That's because you never look before you act!" Sasuke was still gripping Naruto's shirt, hands shaking slightly with adrenaline. "You could have died!"

"But I didn't! You grabbed me!" Naruto tried to smile, to diffuse the tension. "Thanks, Sasuke."

"Don't thank me for saving you from your own stupidity," Sasuke muttered, but he let go and stepped back.

Sakura had been frozen in place, one hand over her mouth. "Naruto, please be more careful..."

"I will, I will! I promise!"

Kiba and Shino had witnessed the whole thing, both looking shaken.

"We should head back to the main trail now," Sasuke said firmly. "We've seen enough."

"Aw, but—"

"Now, Naruto."

Something in Sasuke's tone made it clear this wasn't negotiable.

"Okay, okay. Let's go back."

They turned to retrace their steps, the mood considerably more subdued than before.

Kakashi-san had somehow materialized nearby, finally putting away his book.

"Everyone alright?" he asked mildly, as if he hadn't just witnessed one of his charges nearly fall off a cliff.

"We're fine," Sasuke said tightly.

"Good. Let's stick to the main trails from now on, shall we?"

The groups reconvened at a designated picnic area for lunch. Naruto was unusually quiet, still shaken by his near-miss. Sasuke sat next to him, also quiet, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving him feeling drained. Sakura sat on Sasuke's other side, periodically glancing at both boys with concern.

"You saved his life," she said quietly to Sasuke. "If you hadn't been there..."

"But I was there. That's what matters."

"Still. That was really brave."

"It was reflexive. I didn't think about it."

"That's what makes it brave." Sakura's hand moved to rest next to his on the bench—not quite touching, but close. "Thank you. For keeping him safe."

Sasuke glanced at her, and something passed between them—a moment of understanding, of shared fear and relief.

Naruto, recovering some of his spirits, turned to Sasuke. "I really am sorry, you know. For being reckless. You're always looking out for me."

"Someone has to," Sasuke said, but his tone was quieter than before. "Just... think before you act next time. Please."

"I will. I promise."

After the lunch break, the groups split up again for afternoon activities.

Group One was assigned to the nature education center—a small building with displays about local wildlife, plant identification guides, and interactive exhibits. They were browsing through the exhibits when Kiba suddenly said, "Hey, isn't that Hinata?"

They all looked. Sure enough, Hinata was standing near the entrance of the center, partially hidden behind a display about bird migration patterns, watching their group. Specifically, watching Naruto.

"Hinata!" Naruto called out, waving. "Hey! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Group Four?"

Hinata jumped, clearly startled at being noticed. Her face flushed red.

"I... I was just..." she stammered, looking panicked.

"Where's your group?" Sakura asked, looking around. There was no sign of Group Four anywhere nearby.

"They're... they're on a different trail. I... I needed to use the bathroom and I saw the center and..." Hinata's story was falling apart even as she told it.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "Group Four was assigned to the western trails. This center is on the eastern trail system. That's nearly a kilometer away from where you should be."

"I got... lost?"

"You 'got lost' in the exact direction that would bring you to our group?" Sasuke's tone was flat, disbelieving.

Hinata looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.

Naruto, oblivious as always to the implications, just smiled. "Well, you found us now! Do you need help getting back to your group?"

"I... yes... I should..." Hinata was backing away, mortified at being caught.

"Hold on," Sakura said, her voice gentle but firm. "Hinata, does your chaperone know where you are?"

Silence.

"Hinata, you can't just leave your group," Sakura continued. "That's dangerous. What if something had happened to you?"

"I'm sorry... I didn't think..." Hinata was close to tears now.

At that moment, a frantic-looking chaperone, a middle-aged woman who was clearly Group Four's supervisor, came rushing into the center.

"Hinata! There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you!" The woman was equal parts relieved and angry. "You can't just wander off! Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

"I'm sorry! I just—"

"No excuses. You deliberately left the group. This is completely unacceptable." The chaperone turned to Kakashi-san, who had finally put away his book and was paying attention. "I'm so sorry. She apparently wandered off nearly twenty minutes ago. We've been searching for her."

"Not a problem," Kakashi said mildly. "She's safe, that's what matters."

The chaperone took Hinata firmly by the arm. "Come on. You're staying within arm's reach of me for the rest of the day. And there will be consequences when we get back to school."

As Hinata was led away, still apologizing, the Group One students exchanged looks.

"That was weird," Kiba said.

"She walked almost a kilometer off her assigned trail," Sasuke said quietly. "In the opposite direction from where her group was going. That's not accidental."

"Maybe she really did get lost?" Naruto suggested, ever the optimist.

"Naruto," Sakura said carefully, "I don't think she got lost. I think she was looking for... someone."

"Who?"

Sakura and Sasuke exchanged a glance. Neither wanted to be the one to say it.

"Maybe she just wanted to see the nature center," Naruto said, completely missing the point. "It's got cool stuff!"

Shino, who had been quiet during the whole exchange, spoke up in his usual measured tone: "The probability of coincidentally encountering a specific group after deviating from an assigned trail pattern is statistically negligible. The behavior suggests intentional tracking."

"In normal people words, Shino?" Kiba asked.

"She was following us. Specifically, following Naruto."

"What? No way!" Naruto laughed. "Why would she do that? We're friends! She could just talk to me if she wanted to hang out!"

"Really?" Sasuke asked quietly. "Have you ever seen her actually approach you to talk? Or does she just... appear nearby and wait for you to notice her?"

Naruto opened his mouth to respond, then paused, clearly thinking back.

"I... I mean... she's just shy, right? She has trouble talking to people."

"She talks to other people," Sakura pointed out gently. "I've heard her have full conversations with other girls in class. She stammers less with them than she does with you."

"So... what are you saying?"

"We're saying," Sasuke said bluntly, "that Hinata seems to have a fixation on you. And today she put herself in danger, left her group, wandered off alone into unfamiliar territory—just to find where you were."

Naruto looked uncomfortable. "That's... that's kind of intense."

"It's concerning," Sakura said. "If she's willing to do something that reckless just to be near you..."

"Should I... talk to her? Tell her not to do that?"

"You should probably establish some boundaries," Sasuke said. "Make it clear that you're friends, but she can't do things like this."

"That sounds really awkward."

"It is awkward. But it's necessary." Sasuke's expression was serious. "If you don't set boundaries now, it'll only get more complicated as we get older."

Naruto groaned. "Why is this so hard? I just wanted to be nice to people!"

"Being nice is good," Sakura said gently. "But being clear is important too. If Hinata has... feelings... that you don't share, she needs to know that. Otherwise she'll keep hoping and keep doing things like today."

"I'll... I'll think about how to talk to her," Naruto said, but his tone suggested he was absolutely not going to do that anytime soon. Sasuke and Sakura exchanged another look, both knowing that Naruto would avoid this conversation indefinitely. But they were eleven years old. No one could force him to handle it.

Later in the day at dinner, Sasuke recounted the day's events to his family. Talking about Naruto's near-fall, and also the strange incident with the Hyuuga girl leaving her group to track down their group.

Itachi listened with his usual careful attention, but his expression grew more serious when Sasuke mentioned the later incident.

"She left her assigned group?" Itachi asked. "Deliberately?"

"Yes. Walked almost a kilometer in the wrong direction to find where Naruto was."

"That's not normal behavior, otouto."

"I know. I told Naruto he should talk to her about it, but I don't think he will."

"He probably won't," Itachi agreed. "And that's going to be a problem."

Mikoto looked worried. "That poor girl. She must be very lonely to go to such lengths."

"Or very obsessed," Fugaku said quietly. "Sasuke, you were right to tell your friend to set boundaries. People who fixate on others can become unpredictable."

"She's only eleven," Mikoto protested. "Surely it's just a childhood crush?"

"Maybe," Fugaku said. "Or maybe it's the beginning of obsessive behavior. Either way, it should be addressed."

Itachi nodded in agreement. "The fact that she was willing to put herself in potential danger—leaving her group alone, wandering into unfamiliar territory—just to be near him? That shows poor judgment at best, and worrying fixation at worst."

"What should Naruto do?" Sasuke asked.

"Be kind but clear," Itachi said. "Thank her for being a friend, but make it clear that's all they are. Don't leave room for misinterpretation." He paused. "But realistically? At eleven years old, he probably doesn't have the emotional maturity to handle that conversation well. So it will probably get worse before it gets better."

"That's not encouraging."

"It's realistic." Itachi leaned back. "Just... keep an eye on the situation. If things escalates, make sure adults are aware. This isn't something children should have to manage alone."

After dinner, Itachi found Sasuke in his room as usual.

"Two incidents in one day," Itachi said. "You saved Naruto from falling, and witnessed concerning behavior from a classmate."

"It was a strange day."

"Indeed." Itachi studied his brother. "You were scared today. When your friend almost fell."

"Yes."

"But you acted anyway. That's courage, otouto." Itachi poked his forehead. "Just try to avoid situations where life-threatening danger is involved, I don't like the idea of being an only child."

"I'll try."

"That's all I ask." Itachi moved toward the door, then paused. "About that other situation. Stay away from that as much as you can."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... your classmate's fixation is on Naruto, but if he continues to be oblivious, she might start... I don't know, resenting people close to him? Or trying to use you to get closer to him?" Itachi shook his head. "I'm probably being paranoid. But just... maintain distance. This isn't your problem to solve."

"Understood."

"And Sasuke? That Sakura girl—she was worried about you today, wasn't she?"

Sasuke felt his face warm. "She was worried about Naruto—"

"She was worried about both of you. But especially you, from what you described." Itachi smiled slightly. "People who worry about you, who care when you're in danger—those are the people worth holding onto."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true. And because I see how you talk about her. She's important to you."

"She's my friend."

"For now," Itachi said knowingly. "But maybe someday more than that. If you're smart about it."

He left before Sasuke could protest further. Sasuke lay in bed that night thinking about Sakura with her pretty pink hair and green eyes. He thought about the genuine concern that was shown in those eyes and the warmth of her hand almost-but-not-quite touching his on the lunch bench. And as he fell asleep, it was Sakura's face that filled his dreams.

At school on Monday, it became clear that Hinata had faced consequences for her behavior on the field trip.

She'd been given detention for the rest of the week. Her parents had been called, which, given the Hyuuga family's emphasis on propriety and reputation, likely meant additional consequences at home.

She kept her head down, avoided eye contact with everyone, and looked thoroughly miserable. Naruto, characteristically kind-hearted, approached her at lunch.

"Hey, Hinata. Are you okay? I heard you got in trouble for Friday."

Hinata's face flushed red. "I... I'm fine, Naruto-kun. I'm sorry for causing problems."

"It's okay! I just wanted to make sure you weren't too upset or anything."

"That's very kind of you, Naruto-kun." Hinata's eyes were shining with that familiar adoration. "You're always so thoughtful."

Sasuke, watching from nearby, saw the problem immediately. Naruto's kindness was being interpreted as special attention. As proof that Hinata's feelings were reciprocated. He was making it worse by trying to be nice.

He's never going to set boundaries, Sasuke thought. He's too kind-hearted to be direct with her.

Chapter Text

Age 13, Seventh Grade 

Middle school was a different beast entirely from elementary school.

Nagi Middle School served students from three different elementary schools, which meant that familiar dynamics were suddenly diluted by a hundred new faces, new social hierarchies, and the particular brand of chaos that came with early adolescence.

Hormones were starting to kick in. Social awareness was sharpening. The previously simple world of childhood was becoming complicated in ways that twelve-year-olds were ill-equipped to handle. For some, this transition was smoother than others.

The school building was larger, more intimidating. Three stories instead of two, multiple wings, a proper gymnasium, science labs with actual equipment. Seventh graders clustered in nervous groups, trying to navigate the new environment while eighth and ninth graders watched with the smugness of those who'd already survived the transition.

Sasuke walked through the front doors with his characteristic composure, observing everything with analytical precision. Locker locations, classroom numbers, emergency exits—information automatically catalogued and filed away. He'd shot up over the summer, now one of the taller boys in his grade. His features were sharpening, losing the last softness of childhood. He was objectively becoming what people would call "handsome," though he neither noticed nor cared.

Several girls from other elementary schools watched him pass and immediately started whispering. Sasuke ignored them completely.

Naruto arrived in a whirlwind of energy, immediately making friends with random people in the hallway. "Hey! I'm Naruto! What's your name? Cool backpack! Are you in seventh grade too? Awesome!"

He'd grown as well, though not as much as Sasuke. Still compact, still energetic, still impossibly loud. His blonde hair was as spiky and unruly as ever.

The difference was that he'd actually followed through on his promise to study harder. His grades had improved from "concerning" to "acceptable"—not stellar, but no longer embarrassing. His determination to become mayor hadn't wavered. If anything, it had intensified.

Sakura entered the building with Ino, both girls noticeably more mature than they'd been just three months ago. Sakura had grown her hair longer over the summer. It now fell past her shoulders in pink waves that she'd learned to style properly. Her mother had finally let her start wearing a little makeup, nothing dramatic, just enough to feel more grown-up. She was still second in the class academically, still determined to become a doctor, still harboring an increasingly complicated crush on Sasuke Uchiha.

"There he is," Ino murmured, nodding toward where Sasuke was checking a classroom schedule posted on the wall.

"Stop it," Sakura hissed, cheeks already flushing.

"You should just tell him you like him."

"Absolutely not!"

"Why not? You've liked him for like, six years now. At some point you have to actually do something about it."

"What if he doesn't like me back?"

"Then you move on. But at least you'll know." Ino grinned. "Besides, I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not paying attention. You might be surprised."

Sakura's heart did that familiar flutter-skip. "He does not look at me any special way."

"If you say so, Forehead."

They headed toward their homeroom, navigating the crowded hallways. Hinata entered the building alone, despite several other girls from her elementary school trying to talk to her. She'd become slightly less shy over the past two years. She could speak in class without stammering quite as badly and could occasionally volunteer answers, but she was still fundamentally withdrawn. Her eyes immediately scanned the crowd for one person.

There.

Naruto, talking enthusiastically with a group of new students, making them laugh about something. Hinata felt her chest tighten with the familiar ache of longing. Over the past two years, she'd continued her pattern of "coincidentally" being wherever Naruto was. She knew his schedule better than her own. She'd engineered countless opportunities to be near him, to help him, to exist in his orbit.

The incident on the field trip—getting caught leaving her group—had been humiliating. She'd been punished at home severely by her father, who'd been furious about the embarrassment to the Hyuuga name. But it hadn't changed anything. If anything, the punishment had made her more careful. More subtle. She'd learned not to get caught. Naruto remained blissfully, infuriatingly oblivious. He was nice to her—always had been. He thanked her when she helped him, smiled at her in the hallways, included her when she was nearby. But he never sought her out. Never showed any sign of seeing her as anything special. Just another friend in his ever-expanding collection of acquaintances.

Middle school will be different, Hinata told herself firmly. I'll be smarter about it. I won't make the same mistakes. I'll make him notice me.

She'd been telling herself the same thing for years. She never quite managed to follow through.

Neji walked through the front doors with Tenten beside him, the two of them deep in conversation about something serious.

"—completely unjust. The tracking system basically guarantees that students from wealthy families get placed in advanced classes while—"

"I know," Tenten interrupted. "But what can we do about it?."

"Document it and build evidence. Present it to the school board eventually." Neji's jaw was set in that stubborn line that meant he'd already decided on a course of action.

"You're going to fight the entire educational system?"

"Someone has to."

Tenten smiled despite herself. "You're kind of crazy, you know that?"

"You're still here, so you must be too."

They'd become inseparable over the past few years. Neji with his sharp intelligence and simmering resentment of unjust systems. Tenten with her fierce sense of fairness and loyalty. They weren't officially dating, but everyone could see it was only a matter of time. They understood each other in a way that transcended typical friendship.

By some combination of luck and alphabetical sorting, several students from the Iruka's class ended up in the same homeroom.

Sasuke, Sakura, Naruto, Hinata, Kiba, and Shino all filed into classroom 7-B as the bell rang.

Their homeroom teacher was a stern-looking woman in her forties named Kurenai-sensei, who had a reputation for being both tough and fair.

"Find a seat," she said without preamble. "You'll keep these seats for the semester, so choose wisely."

Immediate scrambling as students tried to secure desirable locations. Naruto dove for a seat near the window in the back. It was prime daydreaming real estate. Sasuke took the seat directly in front of him without comment. Sakura, heart pounding, took the seat next to Sasuke before anyone else could claim it. Ino, in a different homeroom, would be so proud.

Hinata hesitated for a long moment, clearly wanting to sit near Naruto, but the seats around him filled quickly. She ended up three rows over, with a clear line of sight to him but not close enough to interact easily. She told herself it was fine. She'd have other opportunities. And at least from here, she could watch him without being obvious.

Kiba and Shino took seats together near the front. Kiba complaining loudly that sitting up front was "so lame," and Shino pointing out that it would be easier to see the board.

"Alright, settle down," Kurenai-sensei said once everyone was seated. "Welcome to seventh grade. Middle school is going to be different from elementary school in several important ways..."

She launched into the orientation speech that set expectations and rules of the class. She also talked about the importance of taking responsibility for their own learning. Naruto tried to pay attention but kept getting distracted by everything visible through the window. Sasuke appeared to be listening intently while simultaneously reading ahead in the textbook they'd been given. Sakura was hyper-aware of Sasuke sitting right next to her, close enough that she could smell the clean scent of his shampoo. Focus, she told herself. Pay attention to the teacher, not to him. It was harder than it should have been.

Hinata spent the entire homeroom period periodically glancing at Naruto, cataloguing every detail. He'd grown over the summer. His face was changing, becoming more angular. He was still so full of energy and life and—

"Hyuuga-san, are you paying attention?"

Hinata's head snapped forward. "Y-yes, Sensei!"

"Then perhaps you can tell me what I just said about the homework policy?"

"I... um..." Hinata's face flushed red.

Kurenai-sensei sighed. "Please pay attention. I won't repeat information that's in the syllabus."

"Yes, Sensei. I'm sorry, Sensei."

Several students snickered. Hinata wanted to disappear. Naruto, oblivious to the reason for Hinata's distraction, leaned over and whispered loudly, "Don't worry, Hinata! I wasn't listening either! We can look at the syllabus together later if you want!"

Hinata's embarrassment transformed instantly into flustered pleasure. "O-okay! Thank you, Naruto-kun!"

The "-kun" honorific hung in the air, perhaps a bit too intimate for their actual relationship, but Naruto didn't notice.

Still oblivious, Sasuke thought. And she's still fixated. This is going to become a problem if he doesn't address it soon.

But it wasn't his place to interfere in Naruto's social dynamics. He turned back to his textbook and continued reading ahead.

The middle school cafeteria was significantly larger and more chaotic than the elementary school version. Students from three different elementary schools mixed and mingled, forming new alliances and testing social boundaries.

Iruka's class naturally gravitated toward each other in this sea of unfamiliarity, claiming a large table near the windows. Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Ino, Choji, Shikamaru, Kiba, Shino, Neji, Tenten, Lee, and Hinata all squeezed around the table with their lunches.

"This is so much better than elementary school!" Naruto declared, attacking his cafeteria ramen with enthusiasm. "More freedom! More people! It's gonna be awesome!"

"More homework," Shikamaru muttered. "More expectations. Troublesome."

"Oh, come on! Don't be so negative!"

"I'm not negative. I'm realistic."

"Same thing."

"Not even close."

Ino was eyeing the social dynamics at other tables. "Did you guys see how many people are already coupling up? Like, it's the first day and there are already people acting like they're dating."

"We're twelve," Sakura said. "That's kind of young for dating, isn't it?"

"Tell that to them," Ino nodded toward a table where an eighth-grade couple was sitting very close together, clearly in the throes of young romance.

"Disgusting," Sasuke muttered.

"What, you don't believe in romance, Sasuke?" Ino asked with a teasing lilt.

"I believe in not making a spectacle of yourself in public."

"That's basically the same as not believing in romance."

"If you say so."

Sakura felt her cheeks warm. Did that mean Sasuke wasn't interested in relationships? Did that mean he'd never notice her as anything more than a friend?

Ino caught Sakura's expression and kicked her gently under the table. Don't worry, her look said. Boys are stupid at this age. Give it time.

"I think romance is wonderful!" Lee announced with his characteristic enthusiasm. "The power of youth! The blossoming of feelings! It's beautiful!"

"Lee, you're weird," Kiba said, not unkindly.

"I am simply more in touch with my emotions than you!"

"Yeah, that's definitely it."

Tenten was watching Neji, who was eating with mechanical efficiency while reading something on his phone under the table.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"Article about labor law reforms in the construction industry."

"Of course you are."

"It's relevant to my research on Hyuuga Corporation practices."

"You're twelve and you're researching labor law. You know that's not normal, right?"

"Normal is overrated."

Tenten smiled. "Good thing I like weird."

Neji glanced at her, and something soft passed across his usually hard expression. "Good thing."

Across the table, Hinata watched Naruto joke around with Choji and Kiba, his laugh loud and genuine.

He's so happy, she thought. So full of life. He makes everyone around him brighter. I wish I could make him that happy. I wish I could be the reason he smiles like that.

She'd brought an extra dessert from home, mochi that her family's chef had made. She'd specifically requested Naruto's favorite flavor.

"N-Naruto-kun," she said quietly, holding out the container. "Would you... would you like some mochi? It's chocolate flavored."

Naruto's face lit up. "Really? Awesome! Thanks, Hinata!" He took the mochi without hesitation, already opening the container. "You're the best!"

Hinata's entire face flushed with pleasure. "I-it's nothing! I just... I remembered you liked chocolate..."

"You remembered? That's so cool!" Naruto was genuinely pleased, but in the way he'd be pleased by anyone doing something nice, friendly appreciation, not romantic interest. He immediately offered the mochi around to everyone at the table. "Hey, everyone! Hinata brought mochi! Anyone want some?"

Hinata's smile faltered slightly. She'd brought it for him specifically, but he was sharing with everyone.

It's fine, she told herself. He's just generous. That's one of the things I love about him.

Love.

The word echoed in her mind. She was twelve years old and already using the word love.

That should have been concerning.

No one noticed.

Well, almost no one.

Neji, sitting diagonally across from his cousin, had noticed. He'd been noticing for years. The way Hinata's entire demeanor changed around Naruto, the way she created opportunities to interact with him, the way she looked at him like he hung the moon. It was unhealthy and it was only getting worse.

I should say something, Neji thought. To her, or to him, or to someone.

But he didn't. It wasn't his place to interfere, and besides, what would he say? "Stop liking him"? That wouldn't work.

So he said nothing and the pattern continued.

At the end of the first week, announcements came over the intercom during homeroom.

"Attention students: Student Council elections will be held next month. Any seventh-graders interested in running for class representative should pick up nomination forms from the main office. Elections will be held via student vote. Good luck to all potential candidates."

Naruto's head shot up. "Student council! That's perfect! That's like, practice for being mayor!"

"You're actually going to run?" Kiba asked.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it's a lot of work and responsibility?"

"So? I can handle it!"

Sasuke, who'd been ignoring the conversation, said without looking up from his notes. "You'll need a platform. Specific policies you want to implement. Student council isn't just about being popular, you need actual ideas."

"I have ideas!"

"Name three."

"Uh..." Naruto paused. "Better cafeteria food?"

"That's not a policy, that's a complaint. Try again."

"Okay, fine. I'll come up with real policies! You'll see!"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Oh yeah? Well maybe I'll ask you to be my campaign manager!"

Sasuke finally looked up. "Absolutely not."

"Come on! You're smart and organized and good at explaining things!"

"All true. Still not doing it."

"Why not?"

"Because I have no interest in student council politics."

"But—"

"Naruto, I said no."

Sakura, who'd been listening, spoke up, "I'll help you, Naruto. With your platform and campaign, I mean."

Both boys looked at her in surprise.

"Really?" Naruto's face lit up.

"Really. Someone needs to make sure you actually have coherent policies instead of just enthusiasm." She smiled. "And it'll be good practice for me too. Understanding organizational structures, resource management, that's all relevant to hospital administration eventually."

"You're the best, Sakura-chan! Thank you!"

Sakura felt her cheeks warm at his gratitude, but she was also aware of Sasuke watching her with an unreadable expression.

"What?" she asked him.

"Nothing. It's a good idea. You'll keep him from making a fool of himself."

"Hey! I'm right here!"

"I know. That's why I said it." Despite the insult, Naruto was grinning. This was just how they communicated, Sasuke's blunt honesty was balanced by genuine care underneath.

"I'll help too," Hinata said suddenly, voice quiet but determined. "If... if you want help, Naruto-kun. I could... I could make posters or... or..."

"Really? That'd be awesome, Hinata! The more help, the better!"

Hinata beamed, and Sakura felt a slight twinge of something, not quite jealousy, but an awareness that she'd have to share this project with someone whose motivations were... different from her own.

Sakura wanted to help because Naruto was her friend and because it was good practice. Hinata wanted to help because she was desperately trying to make Naruto notice her.The difference was significant, even if no one else seemed to recognize it.

Sasuke recognized it though. He caught Sakura's eye and gave her a look that said I see it too. That small moment of understanding between them felt significant in ways neither could quite articulate.

The hallways of Nagi Middle School were plastered with campaign posters.

There were four candidates for seventh-grade class representative, each with their own approach:

Mizuki Taro was from one of the other elementary schools. His posters were professionally printed, clearly expensive. His platform was vague but centered on "tradition and excellence."

Another candidate was Ami Takahashi, a popular girl with a focus on social events and "making school fun."

Daiki Suzuki was a serious student with a platform about academic standards and study resources.

Then there was Naruto. His posters were bright orange, hand-drawn, and covered in enthusiastic slogans. His platform, developed with Sakura's help, actually addressed real issues. Naruto's campaign had become something of a team effort.  Sakura handled policy development and speech writing. She'd helped Naruto identify actual problems students cared about and develop concrete solutions. Hinata created little pins that said "Uzumaki for Rep!" Kiba and Choji helped distribute campaign materials and talk Naruto up to students from other elementary schools. Even Sasuke, despite claiming he wanted nothing to do with it, occasionally offered critiques that improved Naruto's arguments.

The platform they'd developed included: Extending Library Hours - Many students needed quiet study spaces but the library closed at 4 PM. Naruto proposed working with staff to extend hours until 5:30 PM on weekdays. Improving Communication - Creating a student feedback system where concerns could be submitted anonymously and addressed by student council. Adding Lunch Menu Variety - Working with cafeteria staff to include more options for students with dietary restrictions or preferences. And Conflict Mediation - Establishing a peer mediation program to help students resolve disputes without immediate teacher intervention.

They were good policies that were practical and addressed real concerns. Sakura was proud of what they'd built.Hinata was just happy to be involved in something Naruto cared about. Though she'd started to feel a growing frustration that Sakura seemed to be Naruto's main collaborator, while Hinata was relegated to pin duty.

Sakura gets to spend hours working with him on important things, Hinata thought with an unfamiliar edge of resentment. While I just... make pins. But at least I'm helping. At least he notices my work. That's something.

She pushed down the resentment and focused on making the best pins possible. If her pins was good enough, Naruto would notice. Would appreciate her. Would see how much effort she put in for him.

Each candidate was given five minutes to present their platform to the assembled seventh-grade class.

They went in alphabetical order by first name.

Ami Takahashi went first, promising more school dances and "fun activities." Her speech was bubbly and enthusiastic but light on substance.

Daiki Suzuki went second, delivering a serious speech about academic excellence that was well-reasoned but dry. Several students were visibly struggling to stay awake.

Mizuki Taro went third, giving a polished speech that said very little of substance while sounding impressive. He clearly had coaching, probably professional coaching his wealthy parents had paid for.

Then came Naruto. He walked to the front of the assembly with his usual energy, but Sakura could see he was nervous. Public speaking to this many people at once was different from his usual loud enthusiasm. Hinata watched from her seat, hands clasped together tightly, silently cheering him on. Naruto started with a joke to break the ice, something about how his platform wasn't as boring as he looked, self-deprecating humor that landed well.

Then he shifted into the actual content. "Okay, so, here's the thing. I've been at Nagi Elementary for six years. I know a lot of you are from other schools, but the problems are probably the same, right? We all want the same basic stuff: to be heard, to have options, to feel like school is working for us instead of just happening to us."

He was finding his rhythm, the nervousness fading.

"So here's what I want to do if you elect me. First, extended library hours. I know some of you don't have quiet places to study at home—I definitely don't. The library closes at 4 PM right now, which doesn't give us much time. I want to work with the staff to extend that to 5:30 on weekdays. That's an extra hour and a half for studying, homework, whatever."

Heads were nodding. This resonated.

"Second, better communication between students and student council. Right now, if you have a problem, you either deal with it yourself or go straight to a teacher. But what if there was a way to submit feedback anonymously? What if student council actually knew what students cared about instead of just guessing? I want to set up a system for that."

More nodding. People were actually listening.

"Third, food. I know, I know, everyone complains about cafeteria food. But seriously, we should have more options, especially for people with allergies or dietary restrictions. Not everyone can eat everything, and they shouldn't have to bring lunch from home every single day because the cafeteria can't accommodate them."

"Fourth, and this is the big one—peer mediation. Look, we're all gonna have conflicts. That's normal. But right now, if there's a problem between students, it immediately goes to teachers and administration and becomes this whole big thing. What if students who are trained in conflict resolution could help mediate disputes? Keep small problems small instead of escalating everything?"

He paused, looking out at his audience.

"I know I'm not the smartest candidate. I know my posters aren't as fancy as some other people's. But I care. I really, genuinely care about making this school better for all of us. Not just the popular kids or the smart kids or the rich kids, all of us. If you elect me, I promise I'll work my butt off. I'll show up to every meeting. I'll listen to what you actually want. I'll fight for changes that matter. Because that's what a representative should do—represent everyone, not just their friends." He grinned, some of his natural enthusiasm breaking through.

"So yeah. Vote for me. Uzumaki Naruto. Let's make seventh grade actually good." He sat down to genuine applause, not just polite clapping, but real enthusiasm. Sakura was beaming with pride. He'd delivered the speech almost exactly as they'd practiced, with his own energy and personality shining through. Sasuke, sitting in the back row, allowed himself a small nod of approval.

Hinata looked like she might cry from happiness. He was amazing, she thought. Everyone could see how wonderful he is. My pins helped with this. I helped make this happen.

Naruto had done well. Maybe he actually could become mayor someday.

Election Results

The votes were counted overnight and announced the next morning. 

Uzumaki Naruto: 89 votes

Mizuki Taro: 52 votes

Daiki Suzuki: 18 votes

Ami Takahashi: 15 votes

Naruto had won by a significant margin.

When the announcement came over the intercom during homeroom, the class erupted in cheers and applause. Naruto looked genuinely shocked. "I won? I actually won?!"

"Congratulations," Sasuke said from the seat in front of him.

"You did great, Naruto!" Sakura said, genuinely happy for him.

"I couldn't have done it without you guys!" Naruto was practically vibrating with excitement. "Sakura-chan, you helped with all the policies! Sasuke thanks with helping me with the speech parts! Kiba and Choji thanks for the posters and promoting my campaign! Hinata, the pins were awesome! Everyone who helped—thank you!"

Hinata, sitting across the room, felt her heart soar at being specifically mentioned and thanked.

He noticed my work. He appreciated what I did. This proves I'm important to him. If I keep helping, keep being useful, he'll eventually see me as more than just a helpful friend.

Kurenai-sensei waited for the excitement to die down. "Congratulations, Uzumaki-kun. You'll have your first student council meeting next week. Make sure you're prepared to actually follow through on your campaign promises."

"I will, Sensei! I promise!"

The group gathered at a local ramen shop to celebrate Naruto's victory plus a few new friends from other elementary schools. The table was loud and chaotic, everyone talking over each other, laughing, celebrating. Naruto was in his element, beaming and thanking everyone repeatedly.

Sakura sat between Ino and Sasuke, picking at her food while watching the celebration with a smile.

"You did good work," Sasuke said quietly, just to her. "His platform was solid. He never would have developed that on his own."

"He had the passion," Sakura replied. "I just helped organize it."

"Still. You did well."

Coming from Sasuke, that was high praise. Sakura felt her cheeks warm.

"Thank you, Sasuke-kun."

Ino, watching this exchange with barely concealed amusement, kicked Sakura gently under the table. Just kiss already, her expression said.

Sakura kicked her back. Shut up.

Across the table, Hinata sat slightly apart from the main celebration, nursing a bowl of ramen she'd barely touched. She'd been thanked. She'd contributed. She'd been part of Naruto's success. But she was still on the outside looking in. Still too shy to fully participate in the loud, chaotic friendship. Still watching Naruto from a distance, longing to be closer but unable to bridge the gap. And increasingly aware that Sakura seemed to have a closeness with Naruto that Hinata didn't. Sakura could joke with him easily. Could challenge his ideas without him taking offense. Could work with him for hours on end. Hinata could barely string together a coherent sentence in his presence.

It's not fair, a small, bitter voice whispered in her mind. I've loved him longer. I've tried harder. Why does Sakura get to be close to him so easily when I can't?

She pushed the thought away, feeling guilty for even thinking it.

Sakura was nice. Sakura was her classmate. Sakura didn't even like Naruto that way, everyone knew she liked Sasuke.

There's no competition. Naruto is available. I just need to be better. Try harder. Make him see me.

Tenten noticed Hinata's isolation and moved over to sit beside her.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Oh! Yes, I'm fine! Just... just happy for Naruto-kun."

"Your pins were really good. You're talented."

"Thank you..." Hinata glanced at Naruto again, who was laughing at something Kiba said. Tenten followed her gaze and understood immediately.

"You like him."

It wasn't a question.

Hinata's face went red. "I... I don't... I mean..."

"It's okay. I'm not going to tell anyone." Tenten's voice was kind. "But can I give you some advice?"

Hinata nodded hesitantly.

"If you like him, you should tell him. Clearly. Because Naruto is kind of oblivious when it comes to this stuff. All the subtle hints and being around him all the time? He's not picking up on it. He just thinks you're a nice friend."

"I can't just... I couldn't just tell him! That's too embarrassing!"

"More embarrassing than pining after him for years while he never notices?"

Hinata flinched. "I... I just need more time. To be braver. To become someone worthy of him."

"Hinata, you don't need to become someone else. If he's going to like you, he should like you as you are."

But Hinata was already shaking her head. "You don't understand. Naruto-kun is so bright and confident and amazing. I need to be better. Stronger. More helpful. Then he'll see me."

Tenten wanted to argue, to point out that changing yourself entirely for someone else was unhealthy, that real relationships were built on genuine connection and not performance. But Hinata's expression was closed off, determined. She'd already decided on her course of action. No amount of advice would change her mind. Tenten sighed and let it go.

I tried, she thought. But some people have to learn the hard way.

She went back to sit with Neji, who was engaged in a debate with Shikamaru about something political and complicated. Neji glanced at her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just... worried about a friend."

"Hinata?"

"How did you know?"

"She's my cousin. I know what that look means." Neji's expression was complicated. "She's fixating on Uzumaki. Has been for years."

"You've noticed?"

"Hard not to. She's obvious about it to everyone except him." Neji's voice was dry. "Classic Hyuuga main branch behavior, deciding what they want and pursuing it obsessively without considering whether it's actually good for them or achievable."

"That's harsh."

"It's accurate." Neji turned back to his debate with Shikamaru, clearly done with the topic.

Tenten looked at Hinata—still sitting slightly apart, still watching Naruto with those longing eyes.

This isn't going to end well, Tenten thought.

Absolutely! Here's Chapter 4 (Revised) with the Itachi sections properly integrated:

Chapter 4: "Middle School Politics" (REVISED - COMPLETE)

Age 12-13, Seventh Grade

Middle school was a different beast entirely from elementary school.

Nagi Middle School served students from three different elementary schools, which meant the familiar dynamics of the Konoha 12 were suddenly diluted by a hundred new faces, new social hierarchies, and the particular brand of chaos that came with early adolescence.

Hormones were starting to kick in. Social awareness was sharpening. The previously simple world of childhood was becoming complicated in ways that twelve-year-olds were ill-equipped to handle.

For some, this transition was smoother than others.

First Day: September

The school building was larger, more intimidating. Three stories instead of two, multiple wings, a proper gymnasium, science labs with actual equipment.

Seventh graders clustered in nervous groups, trying to navigate the new environment while eighth and ninth graders watched with the smugness of those who'd already survived the transition.

Sasuke walked through the front doors with his characteristic composure, observing everything with analytical precision. Locker locations, classroom numbers, emergency exits—information automatically catalogued and filed away.

He'd shot up over the summer, now one of the taller boys in his grade. His features were sharpening, losing the last softness of childhood. He was objectively becoming what people would call "handsome," though he neither noticed nor cared.

Several girls from other elementary schools watched him pass and immediately started whispering.

Sasuke ignored them completely.

Naruto arrived in a whirlwind of energy, immediately making friends with random people in the hallway. "Hey! I'm Naruto! What's your name? Cool backpack! Are you in seventh grade too? Awesome!"

He'd grown as well, though not as much as Sasuke. Still compact, still energetic, still impossibly loud. His blonde hair was as spiky and unruly as ever.

The difference was that he'd actually followed through on his promise to study harder. His grades had improved from "concerning" to "acceptable"—not stellar, but no longer embarrassing.

His determination to become mayor hadn't wavered. If anything, it had intensified.

Sakura entered the building with Ino, both girls noticeably more mature than they'd been just three months ago. Sakura had grown her hair longer over the summer—it now fell past her shoulders in pink waves that she'd learned to style properly. Her mother had finally let her start wearing a little makeup—nothing dramatic, just enough to feel more grown-up.

She was still second in the class academically, still determined to become a doctor, still harboring an increasingly complicated crush on Sasuke Uchiha.

"There he is," Ino murmured, nodding toward where Sasuke was checking a classroom schedule posted on the wall.

"Stop it," Sakura hissed, cheeks already flushing.

"You should just tell him you like him."

"Absolutely not!"

"Why not? You've liked him for like, six years now. At some point you have to actually do something about it."

"What if he doesn't like me back?"

"Then you move on. But at least you'll know." Ino grinned. "Besides, I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not paying attention. You might be surprised."

Sakura's heart did that familiar flutter-skip. "He does not look at me any special way."

"If you say so, Forehead."

They headed toward their homeroom, navigating the crowded hallways.

Hinata entered the building alone, despite several other girls from her elementary school trying to talk to her. She'd become slightly less shy over the past two years—she could speak in class without stammering quite as badly, could occasionally volunteer answers—but she was still fundamentally withdrawn.

Her eyes immediately scanned the crowd for one person.

There.

Naruto, talking enthusiastically with a group of new students, making them laugh about something.

Hinata felt her chest tighten with the familiar ache of longing.

Over the past two years, she'd continued her pattern of "coincidentally" being wherever Naruto was. She knew his schedule better than her own. She'd engineered countless opportunities to be near him, to help him, to exist in his orbit.

The incident on the field trip—getting caught leaving her group—had been humiliating. She'd been punished at home severely by her father, who'd been furious about the embarrassment to the Hyuuga name.

But it hadn't changed anything.

If anything, the punishment had made her more careful. More subtle. She'd learned not to get caught.

Naruto remained blissfully, infuriatingly oblivious.

He was nice to her—always had been. He thanked her when she helped him, smiled at her in the hallways, included her when she was nearby.

But he never sought her out. Never showed any sign of seeing her as anything special.

Just another friend in his ever-expanding collection of acquaintances.

Middle school will be different, Hinata told herself firmly. I'll be smarter about it. I won't make the same mistakes. I'll make him notice me.

She'd been telling herself the same thing for years.

She never quite managed to follow through in healthy ways.

Neji walked through the front doors with Tenten beside him, the two of them deep in conversation about something serious.

"—completely unjust. The tracking system basically guarantees that students from wealthy families get placed in advanced classes while—"

"I know," Tenten interrupted. "But what can we do about it? We're twelve."

"Document it. Build evidence. Present it to the school board eventually." Neji's jaw was set in that stubborn line that meant he'd already decided on a course of action.

"You're going to fight the entire educational system?"

"Someone has to."

Tenten smiled despite herself. "You're kind of crazy, you know that?"

"You're still here, so you must be too."

They'd become inseparable over the past few years—Neji with his sharp intelligence and simmering resentment of unjust systems, Tenten with her fierce sense of fairness and loyalty. They weren't officially dating—they were twelve, after all—but everyone could see it was only a matter of time.

They understood each other in a way that transcended typical friendship.

Homeroom: 7-B

By some combination of luck and alphabetical sorting, several of the Konoha 12 ended up in the same homeroom.

Sasuke, Sakura, Naruto, Hinata, Kiba, and Shino all filed into classroom 7-B as the bell rang.

Their homeroom teacher was a stern-looking woman in her forties named Kurenai-sensei, who had a reputation for being both tough and fair.

"Find a seat," she said without preamble. "You'll keep these seats for the semester, so choose wisely."

Immediate scrambling as students tried to secure desirable locations.

Naruto dove for a seat near the window in the back—prime daydreaming real estate.

Sasuke took the seat directly in front of him without comment.

Sakura, heart pounding, took the seat next to Sasuke before anyone else could claim it.

Ino, in a different homeroom, would be so proud.

Hinata hesitated for a long moment, clearly wanting to sit near Naruto, but the seats around him filled quickly. She ended up three rows over, with a clear line of sight to him but not close enough to interact easily.

She told herself it was fine. She'd have other opportunities.

And at least from here, she could watch him without being obvious.

Kiba and Shino took seats together near the front—Kiba complaining loudly that sitting up front was "so lame," Shino pointing out that it would be easier to see the board.

"Alright, settle down," Kurenai-sensei said once everyone was seated. "Welcome to seventh grade. Middle school is going to be different from elementary school in several important ways..."

She launched into the orientation speech—expectations, rules, the importance of taking responsibility for their own learning.

Naruto tried to pay attention but kept getting distracted by everything visible through the window.

Sasuke appeared to be listening intently while simultaneously reading ahead in the textbook they'd been given.

Sakura was hyper-aware of Sasuke sitting right next to her, close enough that she could smell the clean scent of his shampoo. Focus, she told herself. Pay attention to the teacher, not to him.

It was harder than it should have been.

Hinata spent the entire homeroom period periodically glancing at Naruto, cataloguing every detail. He'd grown over the summer. His face was changing, becoming more angular. He was still so full of energy and life and—

"Hyuuga-san, are you paying attention?"

Hinata's head snapped forward. "Y-yes, Sensei!"

"Then perhaps you can tell me what I just said about the homework policy?"

"I... um..." Hinata's face flushed red.

Kurenai-sensei sighed. "Please pay attention. I won't repeat information that's in the syllabus."

"Yes, Sensei. I'm sorry, Sensei."

Several students snickered. Hinata wanted to disappear.

Naruto, oblivious to the reason for Hinata's distraction, leaned over and whispered loudly, "Don't worry, Hinata! I wasn't listening either! We can look at the syllabus together later if you want!"

Hinata's embarrassment transformed instantly into flustered pleasure. "O-okay! Thank you, Naruto-kun!"

The "-kun" honorific hung in the air, perhaps a bit too intimate for their actual relationship, but Naruto didn't notice.

Sasuke noticed. He glanced back at Hinata with a slight frown, then looked at Naruto, who was already refocused on the window.

Still oblivious, Sasuke thought. And she's still fixated. This is going to become a problem if he doesn't address it soon.

But it wasn't his place to interfere in Naruto's social dynamics.

He turned back to his textbook and continued reading ahead.

Lunch: The New Social Landscape

The middle school cafeteria was significantly larger and more chaotic than the elementary school version.

Students from three different elementary schools mixed and mingled, forming new alliances and testing social boundaries.

The Konoha 12 naturally gravitated toward each other in this sea of unfamiliarity, claiming a large table near the windows.

Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Ino, Choji, Shikamaru, Kiba, Shino, Neji, Tenten, Lee, and Hinata all squeezed around the table with their lunches.

"This is so much better than elementary school!" Naruto declared, attacking his cafeteria ramen with enthusiasm. "More freedom! More people! It's gonna be awesome!"

"More homework," Shikamaru muttered. "More expectations. Troublesome."

"Oh, come on! Don't be so negative!"

"I'm not negative. I'm realistic."

"Same thing."

"Not even close."

Ino was eyeing the social dynamics at other tables. "Did you guys see how many people are already coupling up? Like, it's the first day and there are already people acting like they're dating."

"We're twelve," Sakura said. "That's kind of young for dating, isn't it?"

"Tell that to them," Ino nodded toward a table where an eighth-grade couple was sitting very close together, clearly in the throes of young romance.

"Disgusting," Sasuke muttered.

"What, you don't believe in romance, Sasuke-kun?" Ino asked with a teasing lilt.

"I believe in not making a spectacle of yourself in public."

"That's basically the same as not believing in romance."

"If you say so."

Sakura felt her cheeks warm. Did that mean Sasuke wasn't interested in relationships? Did that mean he'd never notice her as anything more than a friend?

Ino caught her expression and kicked her gently under the table. Don't worry, her look said. Boys are stupid at this age. Give it time.

"I think romance is wonderful!" Lee announced with his characteristic enthusiasm. "The power of youth! The blossoming of feelings! It's beautiful!"

"Lee, you're weird," Kiba said, not unkindly.

"I am simply more in touch with my emotions than you!"

"Yeah, that's definitely it."

Tenten was watching Neji, who was eating with mechanical efficiency while reading something on his phone under the table.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"Article about labor law reforms in the construction industry."

"Of course you are."

"It's relevant to my research on Hyuuga Corporation practices."

"You're twelve and you're researching labor law. You know that's not normal, right?"

"Normal is overrated."

Tenten smiled. "Good thing I like weird."

Neji glanced at her, and something soft passed across his usually hard expression. "Good thing."

Across the table, Hinata watched Naruto joke around with Choji and Kiba, his laugh loud and genuine.

He's so happy, she thought. So full of life. He makes everyone around him brighter.

I wish I could make him that happy. I wish I could be the reason he smiles like that.

She'd brought an extra dessert from home—mochi that her family's chef had made. She'd specifically requested Naruto's favorite flavor.

"N-Naruto-kun," she said quietly, holding out the container. "Would you... would you like some mochi? It's strawberry."

Naruto's face lit up. "Really? Awesome! Thanks, Hinata!" He took the mochi without hesitation, already opening the container. "You're the best!"

Hinata's entire face flushed with pleasure. "I-it's nothing! I just... I remembered you liked strawberry..."

"You remembered? That's so cool!" Naruto was genuinely pleased, but in the way he'd be pleased by anyone doing something nice—friendly appreciation, not romantic interest.

He immediately offered the mochi around to everyone at the table. "Hey, everyone! Hinata brought mochi! Anyone want some?"

Hinata's smile faltered slightly. She'd brought it for him specifically, but he was sharing with everyone.

It's fine, she told herself. He's just generous. That's one of the things I love about him.

Love.

The word echoed in her mind.

She was twelve years old and already using the word love.

That should have been concerning.

No one noticed.

Well, almost no one.

Neji, sitting diagonally across from his cousin, had noticed. He'd been noticing for years—the way Hinata's entire demeanor changed around Naruto, the way she engineered opportunities to interact with him, the way she looked at him like he hung the moon.

It was unhealthy. Obsessive.

And it was only getting worse.

I should say something, Neji thought. To her, or to him, or to someone.

But he didn't. It wasn't his place to interfere, and besides, what would he say? "Stop liking him"? That wouldn't work.

So he said nothing.

And the pattern continued.

After School: Student Council Elections

At the end of the first week, announcements came over the intercom during homeroom.

"Attention students: Student Council elections will be held next month. Any seventh-graders interested in running for class representative should pick up nomination forms from the main office. Elections will be held via student vote. Good luck to all potential candidates."

Naruto's head shot up. "Student council! That's perfect! That's like, practice for being mayor!"

"You're actually going to run?" Kiba asked.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it's a lot of work and responsibility?"

"So? I can handle it!"

Sasuke, who'd been ignoring the conversation, said without looking up from his notes: "You'll need a platform. Specific policies you want to implement. Student council isn't just about being popular—you need actual ideas."

"I have ideas!"

"Name three."

"Uh..." Naruto paused. "Better cafeteria food?"

"That's not a policy, that's a complaint. Try again."

"Okay, fine. I'll come up with real policies! You'll see!"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Oh yeah? Well maybe I'll ask you to be my campaign manager!"

Sasuke finally looked up. "Absolutely not."

"Come on! You're smart and organized and good at explaining things!"

"All true. Still not doing it."

"Why not?"

"Because I have no interest in student council politics."

"But—"

"Naruto, I said no."

Sakura, who'd been listening, spoke up: "I'll help you, Naruto. With your platform and campaign, I mean."

Both boys looked at her in surprise.

"Really?" Naruto's face lit up.

"Really. Someone needs to make sure you actually have coherent policies instead of just enthusiasm." She smiled. "And it'll be good practice for me too. Understanding organizational structures, resource management—that's all relevant to hospital administration eventually."

"You're the best, Sakura-chan! Thank you!"

Sakura felt her cheeks warm at his gratitude, but she was also aware of Sasuke watching her with an unreadable expression.

"What?" she asked him.

"Nothing. It's a good idea. You'll keep him from making a fool of himself."

"Hey! I'm right here!"

"I know. That's why I said it."

Despite the insult, Naruto was grinning. This was just how they communicated—Sasuke's blunt honesty balanced by genuine care underneath.

"I'll help too," Hinata said suddenly, voice quiet but determined. "If... if you want help, Naruto-kun. I could... I could make posters or... or..."

"Really? That'd be awesome, Hinata! The more help, the better!"

Hinata beamed, and Sakura felt a slight twinge of something—not quite jealousy, but awareness that she'd have to share this project with someone whose motivations were... different from her own.

Sakura wanted to help because Naruto was her friend and because it was good practice.

Hinata wanted to help because she was desperately trying to make Naruto notice her.

The difference was significant, even if no one else seemed to recognize it.

Sasuke recognized it. He caught Sakura's eye and gave her a look that said I see it too.

That small moment of understanding between them felt significant in ways neither could quite articulate.

Two Weeks Later: Campaign Season

The hallways of Nagi Middle School were plastered with campaign posters.

There were five candidates for seventh-grade class representative, each with their own approach:

Mizuki Taro: From one of the other elementary schools. His posters were professionally printed, clearly expensive. His platform was vague but centered on "tradition and excellence."

Ami Takahashi: Popular girl with a focus on social events and "making school fun."

Daiki Suzuki: Serious student with a platform about academic standards and study resources.

Uzumaki Naruto: His posters were bright, hand-drawn (by Hinata, who turned out to have decent artistic skills), and covered in enthusiastic slogans. His platform, developed with Sakura's help, actually addressed real issues.

Haruno Keiko: A quiet girl from another elementary school with a focus on student mental health and support systems.

Naruto's campaign had become something of a team effort:

Sakura handled policy development and speech writing. She'd helped Naruto identify actual problems students cared about and develop concrete solutions.

Hinata created all the visual materials—posters, flyers, even little pins that said "Uzumaki for Rep!"

Kiba and Choji helped distribute campaign materials and talk Naruto up to students from other elementary schools.

Even Sasuke, despite claiming he wanted nothing to do with it, occasionally offered critiques that improved Naruto's arguments.

The platform they'd developed included:

1. Extended Library Hours: Many students needed quiet study spaces but the library closed at 4 PM. Naruto proposed working with staff to extend hours until 5:30 PM on weekdays.
2. Improved Communication: Creating a student feedback system where concerns could be submitted anonymously and addressed by student council.
3. Lunch Menu Variety: Working with cafeteria staff to include more options for students with dietary restrictions or preferences.
4. Conflict Mediation: Establishing a peer mediation program to help students resolve disputes without immediate teacher intervention.

They were good policies—practical, achievable, addressing real concerns.

Sakura was proud of what they'd built.

Hinata was just happy to be involved in something Naruto cared about.

Though she'd started to feel a growing frustration that Sakura seemed to be Naruto's main collaborator, while Hinata was relegated to art duty.

Sakura gets to spend hours working with him on important things, Hinata thought with an unfamiliar edge of resentment. While I just... make posters.

But at least I'm helping. At least he notices my work. That's something.

She pushed down the resentment and focused on making the best posters possible.

If her art was good enough, Naruto would notice. Would appreciate her. Would see how much effort she put in for him.

Campaign Speech Day

Each candidate was given five minutes to present their platform to the assembled seventh-grade class.

They went in alphabetical order by first name.

Ami Takahashi went first, promising more school dances and "fun activities." Her speech was bubbly and enthusiastic but light on substance.

Daiki Suzuki went second, delivering a serious speech about academic excellence that was well-reasoned but dry. Several students were visibly struggling to stay awake.

Haruno Keiko went third, speaking quietly but earnestly about mental health resources and stress management. Her platform was good but her presentation lacked energy.

Mizuki Taro went fourth, giving a polished speech that said very little of substance while sounding impressive. He clearly had coaching—probably professional coaching his wealthy parents had paid for.

Then came Naruto.

He walked to the front of the assembly with his usual energy, but Sakura could see he was nervous. Public speaking to this many people at once was different from his usual loud enthusiasm.

Hinata watched from her seat, hands clasped together tightly, silently cheering him on.

Naruto started with a joke to break the ice—something about how his platform wasn't as boring as he looked (self-deprecating humor that landed well).

Then he shifted into the actual content:

"Okay, so, here's the thing. I've been at Nagi Elementary for six years. I know a lot of you are from other schools, but the problems are probably the same, right? We all want the same basic stuff: to be heard, to have options, to feel like school is working for us instead of just happening to us."

He was finding his rhythm, the nervousness fading.

"So here's what I want to do if you elect me. First, extended library hours. I know some of you don't have quiet places to study at home—I definitely don't. The library closes at 4 PM right now, which doesn't give us much time. I want to work with the staff to extend that to 5:30 on weekdays. That's an extra hour and a half for studying, homework, whatever."

Heads were nodding. This resonated.

"Second, better communication between students and student council. Right now, if you have a problem, you either deal with it yourself or go straight to a teacher. But what if there was a way to submit feedback anonymously? What if student council actually knew what students cared about instead of just guessing? I want to set up a system for that."

More nodding. People were actually listening.

"Third, food. I know, I know, everyone complains about cafeteria food. But seriously, we should have more options, especially for people with allergies or dietary restrictions. Not everyone can eat everything, and they shouldn't have to bring lunch from home every single day because the cafeteria can't accommodate them."

"Fourth, and this is the big one—peer mediation. Look, we're all gonna have conflicts. That's normal. But right now, if there's a problem between students, it immediately goes to teachers and administration and becomes this whole big thing. What if students who are trained in conflict resolution could help mediate disputes? Keep small problems small instead of escalating everything?"

He paused, looking out at his audience.

"I know I'm not the smartest candidate. I know my posters aren't as fancy as some other people's." (He didn't mention that Hinata had made them, but she felt a warm glow anyway, imagining he was thinking of her work.) "But I care. I really, genuinely care about making this school better for all of us. Not just the popular kids or the smart kids or the rich kids—all of us."

"If you elect me, I promise I'll work my butt off. I'll show up to every meeting. I'll listen to what you actually want. I'll fight for changes that matter. Because that's what a representative should do—represent everyone, not just their friends."

He grinned, some of his natural enthusiasm breaking through.

"So yeah. Vote for me. Uzumaki Naruto. Let's make seventh grade actually good."

He sat down to genuine applause—not just polite clapping, but real enthusiasm.

Sakura was beaming with pride. He'd delivered the speech almost exactly as they'd practiced, with his own energy and personality shining through.

Hinata looked like she might cry from happiness. He was amazing, she thought. Everyone could see how wonderful he is. My posters helped with this. I helped make this happen.

Sasuke, sitting in the back row, allowed himself a small nod of approval.

Naruto had done well.

Maybe he actually could become mayor someday.

Election Results

The votes were counted overnight and announced the next morning:

Uzumaki Naruto: 89 votes

Mizuki Taro: 52 votes

Haruno Keiko: 31 votes

Daiki Suzuki: 18 votes

Ami Takahashi: 15 votes

Naruto had won by a significant margin.

When the announcement came over the intercom during homeroom, the class erupted in cheers and applause.

Naruto looked genuinely shocked. "I won? I actually won?!"

"Congratulations," Sasuke said from the seat in front of him.

"You did great, Naruto!" Sakura said, genuinely happy for him.

"I couldn't have done it without you guys!" Naruto was practically vibrating with excitement. "Sakura-chan, you helped with all the policies! Hinata, your posters were amazing! Everyone who helped—thank you!"

Hinata, sitting across the room, felt her heart soar at being specifically mentioned and thanked.

He noticed my work. He appreciated what I did. This proves I'm important to him. If I keep helping, keep being useful, he'll eventually see me as more than just a helpful friend.

(He wouldn't. But Hinata's mind continued to translate every smile, every thank you, every acknowledgment into evidence of deeper feelings that didn't exist.)

Kurenai-sensei waited for the excitement to die down. "Congratulations, Uzumaki-kun. You'll have your first student council meeting next week. Make sure you're prepared to actually follow through on your campaign promises."

"I will, Sensei! I promise!"

After School: Celebration

A group gathered at a local ramen shop to celebrate Naruto's victory—basically most of the Konoha 12 plus a few new friends from other elementary schools.

The table was loud and chaotic, everyone talking over each other, laughing, celebrating.

Naruto was in his element, beaming and thanking everyone repeatedly.

Sakura sat between Ino and Sasuke, picking at her food while watching the celebration with a smile.

"You did good work," Sasuke said quietly, just to her. "His platform was solid. He never would have developed that on his own."

"He had the passion," Sakura replied. "I just helped organize it."

"Still. You did well."

Coming from Sasuke, that was high praise. Sakura felt her cheeks warm.

"Thank you, Sasuke-kun."

Ino, watching this exchange with barely concealed amusement, kicked Sakura gently under the table. Just kiss already, her expression said.

Sakura kicked her back. Shut up.

Across the table, Hinata sat slightly apart from the main celebration, nursing a bowl of ramen she'd barely touched.

She'd been thanked. She'd contributed. She'd been part of Naruto's success.

But she was still on the outside looking in.

Still too shy to fully participate in the loud, chaotic friendship.

Still watching Naruto from a distance, longing to be closer but unable to bridge the gap.

And increasingly aware that Sakura seemed to have a closeness with Naruto that Hinata didn't.

Sakura could joke with him easily. Could challenge his ideas without him taking offense. Could work with him for hours on end.

Hinata could barely string together a coherent sentence in his presence.

It's not fair, a small, bitter voice whispered in her mind. I've loved him longer. I've tried harder. Why does Sakura get to be close to him so easily when I can't?

She pushed the thought away, feeling guilty for even thinking it.

Sakura was nice. Sakura was her classmate. Sakura didn't even like Naruto that way—everyone knew she liked Sasuke.

There's no competition. Naruto is available. I just need to be better. Try harder. Make him see me.

Tenten noticed Hinata's isolation and moved over to sit beside her.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Oh! Yes, I'm fine! Just... just happy for Naruto-kun."

"Your posters were really good. You're talented."

"Thank you..." Hinata glanced at Naruto again, who was laughing at something Kiba said.

Tenten followed her gaze and understood immediately.

"You like him."

It wasn't a question.

Hinata's face went red. "I... I don't... I mean..."

"It's okay. I'm not going to tell anyone." Tenten's voice was kind. "But can I give you some advice?"

Hinata nodded hesitantly.

"If you like him, you should tell him. Clearly. Because Naruto is kind of oblivious when it comes to this stuff. All the subtle hints and being-around-him-all-the-time? He's not picking up on it. He just thinks you're a nice friend."

"I can't just... I couldn't just tell him! That's too embarrassing!"

"More embarrassing than pining after him for years while he never notices?"

Hinata flinched. "I... I just need more time. To be braver. To become someone worthy of him."

"Hinata, you don't need to become someone else. If he's going to like you, he should like you as you are."

But Hinata was already shaking her head. "You don't understand. Naruto-kun is so bright and confident and amazing. I need to be better. Stronger. More helpful. Then he'll see me."

Tenten wanted to argue, to point out that changing yourself entirely for someone else was unhealthy, that real relationships were built on genuine connection, not performance.

But Hinata's expression was closed off, determined.

She'd already decided on her course of action.

No amount of advice would change her mind.

Tenten sighed and let it go.

I tried, she thought. But some people have to learn the hard way.

She went back to sit with Neji, who was engaged in a debate with Shikamaru about something political and complicated.

Neji glanced at her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just... worried about a friend."

"Hinata?"

"How did you know?"

"She's my cousin. I know what that look means." Neji's expression was complicated. "She's fixating on Uzumaki. Has been for years."

"You've noticed?"

"Hard not to. She's obvious about it to everyone except him." Neji's voice was dry. "Classic Hyuuga behavior—deciding what they want and pursuing it obsessively without considering whether it's actually good for them or achievable."

"That's harsh."

"It's accurate." Neji turned back to his debate with Shikamaru, clearly done with the topic.

Tenten looked at Hinata—still sitting slightly apart, still watching Naruto with those longing eyes.

This isn't going to end well, Tenten thought.

She had no idea how right she was.

The Uchiha family dinner was quieter than usual that evening, marked by an undercurrent of tension that even twelve-year-old Sasuke could feel.

Itachi, now eighteen and freshly graduated from high school, had news.

"I've been accepted to Tokyo University," he announced. "Full scholarship for the criminal justice program. I'll be leaving next month."

Mikoto's face showed both pride and sadness. "Tokyo. That's so far away."

"It's the best program in the country," Fugaku said, pride evident in his voice. "You've earned this, Itachi."

"Thank you, Father."

Sasuke had known this was coming—Itachi had been preparing for university entrance exams for over a year, but hearing it officially still felt like a punch to the gut.

"Tokyo?" he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "That's... that's good. Congratulations."

Itachi caught the slight waver in his brother's voice. "I'll be back for holidays. And you can call me anytime."

"I know. It's fine."

It wasn't fine, but Sasuke wouldn't admit that.

After dinner, Itachi found Sasuke in his room, supposedly doing homework but actually staring blankly at his textbook.

"Can I come in?"

"It's your house too."

Itachi sat on the edge of Sasuke's bed. "You're upset about me leaving."

"I'm not—"

"Don't lie to me, otouto. We're past that."

Sasuke set down his pencil with more force than necessary. "Fine. Yes. I'm upset. You're leaving and I'll be here alone and—" He stopped, embarrassed by the admission.

"You won't be alone. You have Mother and Father. You have your friends."

"It's not the same."

"I know." Itachi's voice was gentle. "But Sasuke, I can't stay in Nagi forever. I need to pursue my own path, learn what I need to learn. And so will you, eventually."

"Why criminal justice? Why not business like Father?"

"Because Father's investigation work is important, but it's limited. As a private investigator, he can only do so much. I want to learn how to work within the system—law enforcement, legal frameworks, maybe even policy. I want to be able to change things on a larger scale."

Sasuke looked up at his brother. "Change what things?"

"The kind of corruption Father investigates. The kind of injustice your friend Neji talks about. The systems that protect powerful people while ordinary people suffer." Itachi's expression was serious. "Someone has to fight those battles, Sasuke. And I want to be equipped to fight them properly."

"Can't you do that here? In Nagi?"

"No. The real power, the real corruption—it's in places like Tokyo. In national government, in large corporations, in the systems that control everything." Itachi leaned forward. "But you know what? You're going to fight those battles too, someday. I can see it in you, that same drive for justice, that same inability to tolerate injustice."

"Really?"

"Really. You're already showing it. The way you saved friend on that field trip, the way you call out unfairness when you see it." Itachi smiled. "You're going to be even better at this than I am. You see things more clearly."

"I don't feel like I do."

"That's because you're twelve. Give it time."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Itachi-nii?"

"Yes?"

"When you're in Tokyo... will you really call? Visit?"

"Of course. You're my little brother. Nothing changes that." Itachi reached out and poked Sasuke's forehead. "Though I expect you to work hard while I'm gone. Keep your grades up. Stay out of trouble, or at least, don't get caught."

"I'll try."

Itachi nodded stood up. "And Sasuke? Take care of Father while I'm gone."

"What do you mean?"

"He's investigating something big. Bigger than usual. I can tell from the way he's been working lately—longer hours, more stress, more secrecy." Itachi's expression was troubled. "He won't talk about it, but I'm worried. Keep an eye on him for me, okay?"

"I will."

"Good." 

After Itachi left, Sasuke returned to his homework with a heavy heart.

His brother was leaving. His father was investigating something dangerous. Everything was changing. He didn't know then that Itachi's concerns about their father were well-founded. He didn't know that in just a few years, everything would fall apart in ways he couldn't imagine. But he felt the shadow of it, even then. The sense that childhood was ending and something darker was waiting.

The day Itachi left for Tokyo University, the entire Uchiha family went to the train station to see him off.

Sasuke had been dreading this day for weeks.

Itachi stood on the platform with his bags, looking more adult than ever in casual travel clothes. At eighteen, he was tall, composed, ready for the next chapter of his life.

Mikoto hugged him tightly, tears in her eyes. "Call us when you arrive. And eat properly. And don't study so hard you forget to sleep."

"I won't, Mother. I promise."

Fugaku shook his son's hand formally, but there was pride in his eyes. "Make us proud, Itachi."

"I will, Father. And..." Itachi lowered his voice. "Be careful with your investigation. Whatever you're working on, be careful."

"I will."

Then it was Sasuke's turn. He stood there, trying to be mature, trying not to show how much this hurt. Itachi crouched down to his level. "Take care of them, otouto. Mother worries too much. Father works too hard. Someone needs to keep them balanced."

"I'll try."

"And take care of yourself too. Don't try to grow up too fast just because I'm not here."

"I won't."

"Liar." Itachi smiled and poked his forehead one last time. "But that's okay. Just... remember what I told you. About justice, about truth, about choosing your battles wisely. Remember that you don't have to carry everything alone."

"I'll remember."

"Good." Itachi stood up as the train announcement sounded. "I'll call this weekend. And I'll be back for New Year's."

"That's three months away."

"I know. But it'll go faster than you think."

Itachi boarded the train, waving from the window as it pulled away. Sasuke watched until the train disappeared from view, feeling like a chapter of his life had closed. On the walk back to the car, Fugaku said quietly, "Your brother will do great things, Sasuke. And so will you."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

That night, alone in his room, Sasuke thought about everything Itachi had said over the past month, about justice, about corruption, about taking care of their father. He made a silent promise to himself, He would make Itachi proud. He would become strong enough to help fight the battles Itachi talked about.

He didn't know yet that those battles would come sooner than he expected. And that when they did, Itachi wouldn't be there to help.

At 8 pm, Sasuke's phone rang.

"Itachi-nii."

"Otouto. I made it safely to Tokyo. Just wanted to let you know."

"How is it?"

"Overwhelming. The city is so much bigger than Nagi. More people, more noise, more everything." Itachi paused. "But exciting too. I start orientation tomorrow."

"That's good."

"How are you doing? Really?"

"I'm fine."

"Sasuke."

A long silence. "I miss you already. It's strange, you being gone."

"I miss you too. But we'll talk regularly. And I'll be back before you know it." Itachi's voice softened. "Take care of yourself, otouto. And take care of Mother and Father."

"I will."

"And Sasuke? About Naruto's election win. You were proud of him, weren't you?"

"He worked hard for it."

"And Sakura helped him?"

"Yes."

"You're proud of her too."

"She did good work."

"Hn. You care about them both. That's good. Hold onto those friendships." Itachi paused. "Especially Sakura. From everything you've told me about her, she sounds special."

"Itachi-nii..."

"I'm just saying. Good people are rare. Don't take them for granted."

After they hung up, Sasuke lay in bed thinking about Itachi's words.

His brother was in Tokyo now. Starting a new life. Moving forward.

And Sasuke was here, in Nagi, with his friends and his family and the familiar rhythms of his life.

But things were changing.

Chapter Text

Age 16, Tenth Grade 

The transition to high school marked the beginning of the end of childhood innocence. It was also the age where romantic relationships stopped being giggly rumors and started becoming reality. Where bodies finished their awkward transitions into something more adult. Where futures began to take shape with concerning clarity.

For some, high school would be a time of growth and discovery. For others, it would be where their worst patterns became entrenched.

The evening before high school started, Sasuke's phone rang while he was reviewing his class schedule for the hundredth time.

"Itachi-nii."

"Otouto. Ready for tomorrow?"

"As ready as I can be." Sasuke moved to sit on his bed. "How did you know to call?"

"Because I remember my first day of high school. Figured you might be overthinking things."

"I'm not overthinking—"

"You're looking at your schedule right now, aren't you? Planning out the most efficient routes between classes, identifying where your locker should be relative to your classrooms?"

Sasuke glanced at the annotated map of the school he'd been creating. "...Maybe."

Itachi's quiet laugh came through the phone. "You're definitely my brother. But Sasuke, remember that high school isn't just about efficiency and grades. It's also about the people. Making connections. Building relationships that matter."

"I have friends."

"Good. Hold onto those friendships, otouto. Genuine connections are rare." Itachi paused. "Speaking of which—how's your friend Sakura doing? The one who was so worried when you got hurt on that field trip?"

Sasuke felt his cheeks warm slightly. "She's fine. We're in the same class."

"Just 'fine'? You two have been study partners for years now."

"We're friends."

"Hn." Itachi made the same noncommittal sound that Sasuke often made. "If you say so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just... don't be so focused on academics and future plans that you miss what's right in front of you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. You're sixteen and emotionally dense."

"I'm not emotionally dense!"

"Prove it. When's the last time you actually had a conversation with someone about something that wasn't school or work-related?"

Sasuke opened his mouth to respond, then closed it.

"That's what I thought," Itachi said after hearing silence on the other end of the call. "Just... try to live a little, okay? High school should be more than just preparation for the next thing."

"Says the person who studied constantly and graduated top of his class."

"Exactly. I'm speaking from experience. I wish I'd relaxed more, spent more time with people instead of just books." Itachi's voice softened. "Don't make my mistakes, otouto. Be better than me."

"You don't make mistakes."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Sasuke. I've made plenty. I just hide them well." A pause. "How's Father? Still working those long hours?"

"Yes. Sometimes he doesn't come home until late. Mother worries."

"She should." Itachi's tone turned serious. "Is he talking about his cases at all? Mentioning what he's working on?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Just... curious. He's been vague when I call home, which usually means he's working on something complicated." Itachi sighed. "Well, nothing we can do from here. Just keep an eye on him for me, okay?"

"I always do."

"I know. You're a good brother." Itachi's voice warmed again. "Alright, I should let you get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. Call me this weekend and tell me how it went?"

"I will. Itachi-nii?"

"Yes?"

"When are you coming home?"

"Golden Week, probably. That's only a month away. And then summer break."

"That's a long time."

"I know. But you'll survive. You're strong, Sasuke. Stronger than you realize."

"Thanks."

"And Sasuke? About that your friend Sakura—"

"Goodnight, Itachi-nii." Sasuke hung up, face burning. His brother's laugh was the last thing he heard before the line disconnected.

Sasuke lay back on his bed, thinking about Itachi's words. About not being emotionally dense, about making connections that mattered, about not missing what was right in front of him. He thought about Sakura—the way she explained things patiently when he asked questions, the way she laughed at his dry comments, the way she'd looked so worried when he'd been hurt. Then he shook his head and returned to planning his efficient route through the school building.

He was definitely not emotionally dense.

Sasuke Uchiha walked through the gates of Nagi High School with the same composed expression he'd worn since childhood, but internally, he was cataloguing everything. The building was modern, well-maintained. The student population was diverse. The opportunities for advanced coursework were significantly better than middle school. He'd shot up another three inches over the summer, now 5'10" and still growing. His features had sharpened further—high cheekbones, strong jaw, dark eyes that seemed to see through people. He'd become, objectively, very attractive, though he remained either unaware or unconcerned.

Girls stared. He ignored them.

His goals were clear, maintain top academic standing, continue helping with his father's investigation business, prepare for either law enforcement or investigative work as a career. Romance was not on his radar.

Or so he told himself.

Sakura Haruno arrived with Ino, both girls having carefully planned their first-day outfits despite the mandatory uniform. Hair styled perfectly, minimal makeup that followed school rules but enhanced their features, accessories that showed personality within regulation limits.

Sakura had grown into a striking young woman. Her pink hair, once a source of insecurity, was now her most distinctive feature. She wore it long, usually pulled back from her face with a red ribbon. She'd grown taller, more curved, more confident in her own skin.

She was still academically competitive, third in their middle school graduating class. Second had been Shikamaru, who'd finally started trying, and first had been Sasuke, naturally. Her goal of medical school had never wavered. She knew exactly what classes she needed, what test scores she needed, what extracurriculars would strengthen her applications. She was also, after eight years, still harboring feelings for Sasuke Uchiha.

"This is our year," Ino declared as they walked toward the school building. "High school is where things actually happen. Parties, dating, all of it."

"We're here to learn, Ino-pig."

"We're here to do both, Forehead. Don't pretend you're not hoping Sasuke finally notices you."

"I'm not—"

"Please. You've been making heart-eyes at him since we were six. At some point you need to actually make a move instead of chickening out at the last second."

"What if he's not interested?"

"Then you move on and stop pining. But you'll never know if you don't try."

Sakura bit her lip, anxiety churning in her stomach. "What if it ruins our friendship?"

"What friendship?" Ino asked bluntly. "You study together sometimes and exchange pleasantries. That's not exactly a deep friendship. You have nothing to lose."

It wasn't entirely true, Sakura and Sasuke had developed a comfortable rapport over the years. They could talk about things beyond schoolwork. He occasionally asked her opinion on things. She made him laugh, rarely, but it happened. There was space for something more. If Sakura was brave enough to try for it.

Naruto Uzumaki bounded through the school gates with his characteristic energy, now 5'8" with broader shoulders and the beginnings of actual muscle definition. He'd joined the track team in middle school and discovered he was naturally fast and had incredible stamina. His grades had stabilized at solidly average—B's and occasional A's in subjects he cared about, C's in subjects he didn't. It wasn't stellar, but it was respectable, and more importantly, it showed he'd followed through on his promise to study seriously. He'd been student council representative for all three years of middle school, gaining a reputation as someone who actually delivered on his promises and worked hard for his constituents. His dream of becoming mayor hadn't faded. If anything, it had intensified.

"High school!" he shouted to no one in particular. "This is gonna be awesome!"

Several girls from other middle schools watched him pass and whispered to each other. Naruto had become, in his own way, attractive—not in the classical sense like Sasuke, but there was something magnetic about his energy, his optimism, his genuine kindness toward everyone. He remained completely oblivious to female attention.

Hinata Hyuuga entered the school grounds alone, as always. She'd grown as well. Her dark hair fell to her mid-back now, usually worn loose. She'd learned to stammer less in public, could hold brief conversations without completely falling apart. But her fundamental shyness hadn't changed.

Neither had her obsession with Naruto Uzumaki.

Eight years. She'd been fixated on him for eight years now, more than half her life.

She knew his schedule better than her own. She knew his favorite foods, his hobbies, his dreams, his friends. She'd helped him with homework, with student council projects, with anything he'd let her help with. And he still saw her as just a nice friend.

High school will be different, she told herself, the same mantra she'd been repeating for years. I'll be braver. I'll make him see me as a woman, not just a classmate.

She'd been saying this since elementary school. She still hadn't managed it. But hope, however delusional, was hard to kill. She noticed Sakura and Ino walking ahead of her, laughing about something. Her eyes lingered on Sakura's pink hair.

She gets to be close to him so easily. She worked with him on his campaigns. She can talk to him without stuttering.

A small knot of resentment twisted in Hinata's chest—resentment she immediately felt guilty about.

No. That's not fair. Sakura likes Sasuke-kun. She's not interested in Naruto-kun. There's no competition.

I just need to be better. Try harder.

Neji Hyuuga walked through the gates with Tenten beside him, both of them deep in conversation as always.

Neji had grown tall—5'11" and still growing, with the sharp features and pale eyes characteristic of the Hyuuga family. He wore his hair longer than most boys, pulled back in a low ponytail. His expression was perpetually serious, intensity radiating from him. His resentment of the Hyuuga family system had only deepened over the years. He'd spent his middle school years documenting labor violations, wage discrepancies, and discriminatory practices within Hyuuga Corporation. He had binders full of evidence. He also had a plan to study business and law at Tokyo University, the same school Itachi attended, which Sasuke found somewhat amusing. His goal remained unchanged; dismantle the unjust systems within Hyuuga Corporation, either from within or through legal pressure from the outside.

Tenten had grown into a striking young woman who was both athletic and confident, with her dark hair still in the signature twin buns she'd worn since childhood. She'd become a champion martial artist, winning regional competitions regularly.

She and Neji had been inseparable since elementary school. They weren't officially dating—they'd never had a "relationship talk" or formal labels—but everyone treated them as a couple anyway. They understood each other. They challenged each other. They shared the same values. It was, by any measure, a stable and warm connection.

Class Assignments: 1-A

Their homeroom teacher was a middle-aged man named Jiraiya-sensei, who had a reputation for being both brilliant and completely inappropriate. He'd written several novels, apparently they were romance novels though no one had confirmed this, and taught Modern Literature.

"Welcome to hell—I mean, high school!" he announced cheerfully as students filed into the classroom. "I'm Jiraiya, your homeroom teacher. You can call me Sensei or 'that pervert' behind my back, both work fine."

Several students laughed nervously.

"High school is where you figure out who you actually are versus who your parents want you to be. It's where you make mistakes—hopefully non-fatal ones. It's where relationships get complicated and drama reaches new heights. My job is to make sure you survive with passing grades and minimal emotional scarring. Sound good?"

"Uh, yes, Sensei?" someone ventured.

"Great! Now, seating arrangements. I don't do assigned seats because I'm not a control freak, but I will rearrange you if you cause problems. Choose wisely."

Immediate scrambling as students tried to secure desirable positions. Naruto, predictably, went for a window seat in the back. Sasuke took the seat directly in front of him—same configuration they'd had for years now. Familiar. Comfortable. Sakura hesitated for just a moment, then took the seat next to Sasuke, heart pounding.

Hinata stood frozen, watching Naruto's seat fill with surrounding students. By the time she moved, the seats near him were all taken. She ended up three rows over, same as always. Same pattern, different classroom. She told herself it was fine. But her eyes kept drifting to Sakura, sitting next to Sasuke, positioned where Hinata wished she could be positioned relative to Naruto.

Why is it so easy for her?

"Alright, now that everyone's settled," Jiraiya-sensei said, pulling out a clipboard, "let's talk about high school expectations. You're not kids anymore—you're young adults, which means you get more freedom but also more responsibility..."

The orientation speech began, and with it, the official start of high school.

By the end of the first week, the workload had become apparent: high school was significantly more demanding than middle school, especially for students aiming for university.

Sakura, ever organized, proposed a solution during lunch on Friday.

"We should form a study group," she said to the table where most of their friend group sat. "Regular meetings, helping each other with difficult subjects, sharing notes when someone's absent. It'll make everything easier."

"That sounds troublesome," Shikamaru muttered, but without much conviction. "But also useful. I'm in."

"I'm in too!" Naruto said enthusiastically. "I'm gonna need all the help I can get with some of these classes."

"I'll participate," Sasuke said with his characteristic brevity.

"Me too," Ino agreed.

"I could... I could help," Hinata said quietly. "I'm good at history..."

"Great! Anyone else?"

Choji, Kiba, Shino, and a few others agreed.

They decided to meet twice a week after school in the library—Tuesdays and Thursdays, from 3:30 to 5:30.

It was a practical decision that would have long-term implications for multiple relationships.

The group gathered around several pushed-together tables in the library's group study room. Sakura had come prepared with color-coded notes, carefully organized study guides, and a plan for how to efficiently cover the most challenging material. She was, without question, the unofficial leader of this study group.

"Okay, so, we all have that biology test on Friday," she began, distributing copies of a study guide she'd created. "I've broken down the material into sections. We should each explain one section to the group—teaching someone else is the best way to make sure you actually understand the material."

"That's actually brilliant," Shikamaru admitted. "Troublesome, but brilliant."

"I'll take the section on cell structure," Sasuke said immediately, it was the most complex section, naturally.

"I'll do the plant versus animal cells section," Sakura added.

"I'll do... uh... whatever's easiest?" Naruto said hopefully.

"Basic cell functions," Sakura assigned. "You can handle that."

They worked through the material systematically. Sasuke's explanation of cell structure was precise and clear—he had a gift for breaking down complex information into comprehensible pieces. Sakura's section on plant versus animal cells was thorough and well-organized, with helpful comparison charts she'd created. When it was Naruto's turn, he stumbled a bit but made it through with help from Sakura's prompting questions.

Hinata watched from across the table, wishing she were sitting closer to Naruto, wishing she could be the one helping him instead of Sakura. But she didn't say anything. She never did.

As the session went on, Sakura found herself increasingly aware of Sasuke sitting next to her. The way he'd lean over to look at her notes. The way their hands would occasionally brush when reaching for the same textbook. The way he'd explain things directly to her when she asked clarifying questions. It was... nice. More than nice.

At one point, they were both leaning over the same diagram, heads close together, and Sasuke said quietly, "You're really good at this. Teaching, I mean. You should consider it as a career."

Sakura felt her cheeks warm. "I'm planning on medicine. Surgery, specifically."

"You could do both. Teaching hospital. Research and instruction."

"Maybe," Sakura said, pleased that he'd thought about her future at all.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, something hung in the air between them—awareness, possibility, the suggestion of something more than friendship. Then Naruto knocked over someone's water bottle and the moment shattered in the chaos of cleaning up the mess. But Sakura remembered that look for the rest of the week.

Hinata, watching from across the table, had also noticed that moment between Sasuke and Sakura. She felt a strange pang—not jealousy exactly, because she didn't want Sasuke. But she wanted what they had. That ease. That connection.

Why can Sakura have that with Sasuke-kun, but I can't have it with Naruto-kun? What's wrong with me?

Nothing was wrong with her. And everything.The problem wasn't her effort. The problem was that Sasuke and Sakura's connection was mutual, built over years of genuine friendship. Hinata's fixation on Naruto was one-sided and she couldn't see the difference.

Every year, Nagi High School held a fall cultural festival where classes created exhibits, clubs performed, and the whole school participated in various activities. First-years were expected to contribute, and Class 1-A needed to decide on their exhibit.

Jiraiya-sensei barely pretended to care. "Figure something out. Make it good. Don't embarrass me. That's all I ask."

The class held a meeting during homeroom to discuss options. Various suggestions were thrown out such as a haunted house, a café, a traditional tea ceremony room, or an art gallery. Naruto, predictably, had ideas. "We should do something that actually helps people! Like a fundraiser for charity!"

"That's boring," someone argued. "The festival is supposed to be fun."

"It can be both!"

The debate escalated, with multiple factions forming around different ideas.

Finally, Sasuke spoke up with his usual direct approach, "We should do a café. It's popular, relatively simple to execute, and allows for creativity in theme and menu. It's also proven to attract visitors."

"That's so generic though," another student complained.

"Generic but effective," Shikamaru added, supporting Sasuke's suggestion. "And with the right theme, we can make it interesting."

"What theme?" Sakura asked.

"Detective noir," Sasuke said without hesitation. "1940s aesthetic, mystery theme, servers dressed as detectives and femme fatales. Menu items with crime-related names. Maybe some interactive mystery element for customers to solve."

The class went quiet, considering this.

"That's... actually really cool," Ino admitted.

"I love it!" Naruto declared. "It's way better than just a regular café!"

"It would require significant coordination," Sakura said, already mentally organizing logistics. "But it's doable. We'd need committees for decoration, menu planning, costumes, the mystery element..."

"I'll help with the mystery puzzle," Sasuke offered.

"I'll handle overall coordination," Sakura volunteered.

The class voted, and the detective noir café won by a significant margin.

Committees were formed, and work began.

Over the next month, as the festival preparations intensified, certain dynamics began to shift.

Sasuke and Sakura ended up working together frequently. He was designing the mystery puzzle that customers would solve, and she was coordinating all the different committees, so they had constant overlap. They met after school, texted about logistics, collaborated on problem-solving. And somewhere in all that work, their friendship deepened into something more substantial. One evening, they were in the library working on the mystery puzzle. Sasuke had created an elaborate scenario involving a stolen artifact, multiple suspects, and clues hidden throughout the café setup.

"This is really complex," Sakura said, reviewing his plans. "Are you sure first-years will be able to solve it?"

"That's why we have difficulty levels. Easy, medium, hard. Customers can choose their level of challenge."

"You've really thought this through."

"I like puzzles. Logic. Mysteries." Sasuke paused. "My father's work involves a lot of this—piecing together evidence, finding connections, building cases. I find it interesting."

It was more personal information than Sasuke usually shared.

"How is your father's work going?" Sakura asked carefully. "I remember you mentioned he was investigating something..."

Sasuke's expression darkened slightly. "He's still working on it. Municipal corruption. It's... complicated. He's building a case, but it takes time."

"That sounds stressful."

"It is. But it's important." Sasuke met her eyes. "Some things are worth the stress. Worth the effort. Even when they're difficult." Sakura felt like he was talking about more than just his father's investigations.

"I agree," she said quietly.

They held eye contact for a long moment, and Sakura's heart was hammering so hard she was sure Sasuke could hear it.

Then her phone buzzed. It was Ino texting the message "Have you kissed him yet?"

Sakura quickly silenced her phone, cheeks burning.

"Everything okay?" Sasuke asked.

"Fine! Just... Ino being Ino."

Sasuke's lips twitched in what might have been amusement. "She's persistent."

"That's one word for it."

They went back to work on the mystery puzzle, but something had shifted. The awareness between them was becoming harder to ignore.

Hinata had volunteered for the costume committee, which was headed by a girl from another middle school named Ami. She'd hoped that working on the festival would give her more opportunities to interact with Naruto, but he'd ended up on the decoration committee, which met at different times. Still, she persevered. She worked hard on the costumes, hand-sewing details, making sure everything looked authentic to the 1940s aesthetic they were aiming for. She made sure to note Naruto's size and preferences, creating a costume specifically tailored for him. She even snuck into the decoration committee meetings a few times, under the pretense of needing to coordinate costume colors with the set design, just to be in the same room as him. When the costumes were distributed for fitting, she made sure to be there when Naruto tried his on.

"Wow, Hinata!" Naruto said, examining the detective costume—complete with suspenders, fedora, and prop detective badge. "This is amazing! You made this?"

"Y-yes! I wanted to make sure it fit properly. Do you like it?"

"It's perfect! You're so talented!" Naruto's enthusiasm was genuine and warm.

Hinata's heart soared.

He appreciated my work. He said I'm talented. He's smiling at me.

She translated this friendly gratitude into something more significant in her mind.

He's noticing me more. All this effort is working. I just need to keep being helpful, keep being there for him.

What she didn't notice was that Naruto thanked everyone who helped with the festival in exactly the same way, genuine and enthusiastic, but not romantic. She saw what she wanted to see and ignored what she didn't.

Later, when she saw Sakura and Sasuke leaving the library together, laughing about something, she felt that familiar pang again.

They look so happy together. So comfortable.

Why can't I have that with Naruto-kun?

What am I doing wrong?

Sasuke's laptop chimed with an incoming video call just as he finished his homework for the day.

Itachi's face appeared on the screen, looking slightly tired but pleased. He was in what appeared to be his apartment in Tokyo—small, neat, with bookshelves visible in the background.

"Otouto. How was your first month?"

"Busy. The workload is significantly higher than middle school."

"As expected. Are you managing it?"

"Of course."

"Of course," Itachi echoed with a small smile. "And the social aspects? Making any new friends? Spending time with your existing ones?"

"I joined a study group. Sakura organized it. We meet twice a week."

Itachi's expression shifted to something that might have been amusement. "Sakura organized it. How convenient."

"It's practical. Group study has been shown to improve retention and understanding of material."

"I'm sure that's the only reason you agreed to participate."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing, nothing." Itachi's eyes were definitely laughing now. "So this study group—who else is in it?"

"Naruto, Shikamaru, Ino, Neji and some others. It's efficient, we each explain different sections of material, which helps everyone understand better."

"And you sit next to Sakura during these sessions?"

"The seating is arbitrary—"

"Sure it is."

"Itachi-nii, what is your point?"

"My point is that you're sixteen and it's perfectly normal to notice when someone is attractive and kind and shares your interests. There's nothing wrong with that."

Sasuke felt his face heat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right. Because you just coincidentally happen to mention Sakura in every conversation we have."

"I don't—"

"'Sakura organized the study group. Sakura helped with this. Sakura said that.'" Itachi ticked off on his fingers. "You mention her more than you mention Naruto, and he's supposed to be your best friend."

"That's not— I don't—" Sasuke struggled for words. "We just work well together. It's not... it's not like that."

"Okay. If you say so." Itachi's expression softened. "But Sasuke, if it ever does become 'like that,' that would be okay. You're allowed to care about people in different ways. You're allowed to... you know. Have feelings."

"I know that."

"Do you? Because you've spent most of your life trying to be logical and composed and 'not emotional.' But that's not sustainable. And it's not healthy."

Sasuke looked down, uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

"I'm not trying to embarrass you," Itachi said gently. "I'm just saying, don't close yourself off to possibilities. If Sakura is someone who matters to you, even just as a friend, that's good. Hold onto that. Connections like that are rare."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true. I've met a lot of people at university. Smart people, capable people. But very few of them are genuine. Most have agendas, masks, personas." Itachi leaned closer to the camera. "The people who knew you when you were young, who chose to be your friend when you had nothing to offer them except yourself—those are the people worth keeping."

"Like Sakura and Naruto."

"Like them," Itachi agreed. "And whoever else has stuck by you. Don't take them for granted."

"I won't."

"Good." Itachi shifted topics. "How's the school festival planning going? Mother mentioned something about a café?"

Grateful for the change of subject, Sasuke explained the detective noir café concept.

Itachi listened with genuine interest, asking questions about logistics and the mystery puzzle Sasuke was designing.

"That's impressive, otouto. You've put a lot of thought into this."

"Sakura and I worked on it together. She handles the coordination and organization. I handle the puzzle design and thematic elements."

"Sakura and you worked on it together," Itachi repeated with that same amused tone.

"Don't start."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it loudly."

Itachi laughed—a sound that made Sasuke smile despite his embarrassment. They talked for another twenty minutes about various topics—Itachi's classes, their father's work. Their father was still being vague about specifics, which continued to worry Itachi. They also talked about their mother's garden.

Before signing off, Itachi said, "Sasuke? I'm proud of you. First month of high school and you're already thriving. Keep it up."

"Thanks, Itachi-nii."

"And send me pictures from the festival. I want to see this detective café you're so invested in."

"I will."

"And a picture of you and Sakura in your costumes."

"Goodnight, Itachi-nii."

"Goodnight, otouto."

The call ended, and Sasuke sat back, processing the conversation.

Itachi thought... what? That he liked Sakura? As more than a friend?

That was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

He thought about working with her on the festival preparations. The way they could communicate without words. The way she smiled when he made dry comments. The way his chest felt tight when she was near. No. That was just... friendship. Respect for her intelligence and work ethic.

Definitely not anything else.

The cultural festival arrived on a perfect autumn day.

The school was transformed, every classroom had a different exhibit, clubs had set up performances and activities, food stalls lined the outdoor areas, and visitors from the community mixed with students and families. Class 1-A's Detective Noir Café was located in their homeroom, completely transformed with 1940s decorations complete with dim lighting, vintage posters, and noir aesthetic throughout. Students were dressed in period-appropriate costumes, some as hard-boiled detectives, others as femme fatales, a few as gangsters and other stock noir characters.

Sasuke, somewhat reluctantly, had been costumed as the lead detective—complete with a trench coat and fedora that, objectively, looked very good on him. Multiple visitors commented on this much to his discomfort. Sakura was dressed as a femme fatale—red dress within school-appropriate limits, styled hair, dramatic makeup that Ino had helped apply. She felt self-conscious but also... powerful, in a way. When Sasuke saw her, he stopped mid-sentence in whatever he'd been saying to Naruto.

"You look..." he started, then seemed to struggle for words. "...really good. The costume works."

Coming from Sasuke, this was significant praise.

"Thank you," Sakura said, trying to keep her voice steady despite her racing heart. "You too. The detective look suits you."

"Hn."

Naruto, dressed in his own detective costume, bounced between them. "This is so cool! We look like we're actually in a movie! Is everything ready? When do we open?"

"Ten minutes," Sakura confirmed, checking her watch and her organization charts. "Everyone knows their positions? Servers, cashiers, mystery game monitors?"

Chorus of confirmations.

"Then let's do this."

The café opened, and immediately they were swamped with customers.The detective noir theme was a massive hit—people loved the aesthetic, the mystery game was engaging at multiple difficulty levels, and the food prepared with help from Choji's family restaurant expertise was actually good. Sasuke manned the mystery game station, helping customers who were stuck and occasionally giving cryptic hints. Sakura coordinated everything else, troubleshooting problems, managing the flow of customers, making sure nothing fell apart. They worked together seamlessly—Sasuke would catch her eye across the room, and she'd somehow know what he needed without him saying anything. She'd signal him with small gestures, and he'd adjust what he was doing accordingly.

It was like a dance they'd been practicing for years without realizing it. At one point, during a brief lull, Sasuke appeared at her side.

"We make a good team," he said quietly.

"We do," Sakura agreed, and felt brave enough to add: "We should do this more often. Work together, I mean."

"I'd like that," Sasuke said, and there was something in his voice—something warm and genuine that he usually kept hidden.

Before Sakura could respond, a new wave of customers arrived and pulled them back into the chaos. But that moment stayed with her.

I'd like that.

Three words that felt like possibility.

Hinata, working as a server in her own period costume, watched Sasuke and Sakura work together with a strange mix of emotions.

They looked good together. They worked well together. There was an ease between them that Hinata had spent eight years trying to create with Naruto and never managed.

Why is it so easy for some people?

She pushed the thought away and focused on taking orders and bringing food. Naruto was working the front, greeting customers with his characteristic enthusiasm. He was good at this—making people feel welcome, creating energy, being the face of their café. Hinata made sure to pass by him frequently, to be in his line of sight, to remind him she existed. He smiled at her every time. Thanked her for her hard work. Complimented her costume. All friendly. All platonic. All exactly the same way he treated everyone else. But Hinata chose to see it as special.

He smiled at me four times today. He said my costume looked great. He's noticing me.

As the festival wound down in the late afternoon, students from various classes visited other exhibits. The group reconvened to tour the school together. Neji and Tenten appeared, having finished with their own class's exhibit which was an historical weapons display that was surprisingly popular.

"Your café was impressive," Neji said to Sasuke and Sakura. "Well-executed."

"Thanks. What about your weapons exhibit?"

"Successful. Tenten demonstrated traditional martial arts forms. People were interested."

Tenten grinned. "I got recruited by the karate club like five times. I told them I already train independently, but they're persistent."

The group wandered through the remaining festival activities together—eating festival food, trying games, watching the last few club performances.

By 5 pm, most events were wrapping up, and the group began to disperse as students headed home.

Sasuke and Sakura found themselves walking in the same direction, their routes home overlapping for several blocks.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, both tired but satisfied with how the day had gone.

"Today was good," Sasuke said finally.

"It was," Sakura agreed. "The café was a big success. Your mystery puzzle was perfect, challenging but solvable."

"You did most of the work. The coordination, the organization. I just designed a puzzle."

"Don't downplay your contribution. We both did our parts." Sakura smiled. "We work well together."

"We do," Sasuke agreed, and there was something in his tone—something warm that made Sakura's heart skip.

They reached the point where their paths diverged.

"See you Monday," Sasuke said.

"See you Monday," Sakura echoed.

As she walked the rest of the way home, Sakura found herself replaying the day, not just the success of the festival, but the small moments. The way Sasuke had looked at her in her costume. The way they'd worked together seamlessly. The way he'd said "We work well together" like it meant something more than just festival planning. Something is changing, she thought. Between us. I can feel it. She wasn't wrong.

Meanwhile, Hinata walked home alone, exhausted from a day of serving customers and trying to stay in Naruto's line of sight. She'd complimented him on how well he greeted customers. He'd thanked her and said she'd done great work too. In her mind, she replayed that moment over and over, translating friendly appreciation into something more significant.He noticed me. He saw my hard work. This means something.

After the festival wound down and Sasuke returned home, exhausted but satisfied with how the café had gone, he found a text from Itachi waiting. 

"How did it go? Was the festival a success?"

Sasuke replied, "Yes. The café was very popular. The mystery puzzle worked well. No major problems."

"Good. Did you take pictures like I asked?"

Sasuke had, actually. Several of the classroom setup, a few of the mystery game in action. He scrolled through his phone and found one that had been sent to him from the designated photographer of the class, whose main job it was to take pictures of the event for their class and later send it to everyone as a memorable keepsake. The photo was of himself and Sakura standing together in their detective costumes, discussing something seriously while chaos happened around them.

They looked... good together. Professional. Like partners. His thumb hovered over the send button. Then, impulsively, he sent it.

Three dots appeared immediately as Itachi typed.

"You both look great. Very authentic noir aesthetic. Also, you're standing very close to each other in this photo."

"We were discussing logistics."

"Sure. Logistics. That's definitely the reason you look at each other like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're the only two people in the room."

Sasuke stared at his phone, heat creeping up his neck.

"You're reading too much into it."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're not reading enough into it."

A pause, then, "Sasuke, I'm not trying to tease you. Well, not just trying to tease you. But seriously that girl cares about you. And I think you care about her too. That's not a bad thing. Actually, it's a good thing."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. Because you're emotionally constipated."

"I'm not emotionally constipated."

"You're literally arguing via text about whether or not you have feelings. That's pretty emotionally constipated."

Sasuke didn't respond, not knowing what to say. Sasuke thought about the festival. The way his heart had skipped when he saw Sakura in her costume. The way they'd worked together seamlessly. The way he looked forward to their study sessions more than he probably should.

Maybe Itachi had a point.

"I have to go. Thank you for the advice."

"Anytime, otouto. And Sasuke?"

"Yes?"

"Don't overthink it. If something feels right, that's usually because it is."

Sasuke set down his phone and lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Don't overthink it. Too late. He was already overthinking it. But maybe that was okay. Maybe Itachi was right, and paying attention to how he felt was important. Maybe the tight feeling in his chest when Sakura smiled at him meant something. Maybe the way they worked together so seamlessly meant something.

Maybe...

Sasuke fell asleep still thinking about it.

Three weeks after the festival, Itachi came home for Golden Week. A string of holidays in early May that gave university students a break.

Sasuke met him at the train station with their parents, and was startled by how much older Itachi looked after just a few months away. Not physically, but in bearing. More adult. More serious.

"Otouto." Itachi's smile was genuine as he ruffled Sasuke's hair. "You've grown."

"It's been a few months."

"And you've grown. Not much, but a little." Itachi's eyes were amused. "High school treating you well?"

"Yes."

"Good."

At home, over dinner, Itachi shared stories from university—interesting classes, challenging professors, the research project he was working on about systemic corruption in municipal governments. Fugaku listened with particular interest to that last part.

After dinner, Itachi pulled Sasuke aside. "Walk with me?"

They wandered through the neighborhood in the twilight, falling into the comfortable silence of brothers who didn't need constant conversation.

Finally, Itachi said, "So. Sakura. What's the status there?"

"There's no 'status.'"

"Really? Because Mother mentioned that she's been over to the house several times to study with you. That's progress."

"It's just efficient to study together."

"Uh-huh. And the fact that you could study with Naruto or Shikamaru or any of your other friends, but you consistently choose her?"

"She's the most academically rigorous. It makes sense."

"Sasuke."

"What?"

"When I was your age," Itachi continued, "I was so focused on being the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect everything, that I missed... a lot. I missed chances to connect with people. I missed opportunities to be genuine instead of just competent."

"You're plenty genuine."

"With you, yes. With Mother and Father, mostly. But with peers? With potential friends or... more?" Itachi shook his head. "I was so busy being impressive that I forgot to be real. Don't make that mistake."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if Sakura matters to you—even just as a friend, but especially if it's more than that—tell her. Be honest with her. And more importantly, be honest with yourself."

"What if I don't know what I feel?"

"Then figure it out. Pay attention. When you're with her, how do you feel? When she smiles at you, what happens? When you work together on something, what is that like?"

Sasuke thought about the festival. About study sessions. About the way his pulse quickened when Sakura laughed at one of his dry comments.

"It's... comfortable. Easy. Like we understand each other without having to explain everything."

"That's rare, Sasuke. That level of understanding? It's rare and valuable. Don't dismiss it just because you're not sure what to call it."

They walked in silence for a few more minutes.

"Itachi-nii?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you pushing this so hard? It's not like you to be this invested in my personal life."

Itachi was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was serious.

"Because life is unpredictable, otouto. Things change. People leave. Opportunities pass. And if you spend too much time being logical and careful and afraid, you miss the things that actually matter."

"That sounds ominous."

"Maybe a little. But it's true. I've seen it at university—people so focused on their careers, their futures, their plans, that they forget to actually live. They reach thirty or forty and realize they've never made a genuine connection with another human being. I don't want that for you."

"I won't be like that."

"I hope not. But you're already showing the signs—prioritizing efficiency over emotion, logic over feeling." Itachi poked his forehead gently. "So I'm reminding you: it's okay to feel things. It's okay to care. It's okay to admit when someone is important to you."

"Even if I don't know what to do about it?"

"Especially then. You don't have to have all the answers right now. You're fourteen. But you do need to be honest with yourself about what you feel. The rest will figure itself out."

They turned back toward home.

"Thanks, Itachi-nii."

"Anytime." Itachi smiled. "Now, when do I get to meet this Sakura properly? Mother says she's very smart and very pretty."

"Mother talks too much."

"She's observant. There's a difference."

"She gossips."

"With me, yes. Because she knows I'll give you good advice about it instead of the awkward 'birds and bees' talk Father would attempt."

Sasuke shuddered. "Please never mention Father and that topic in the same sentence."

Itachi laughed—genuine and warm—and Sasuke felt grateful to have his brother home, even if just for a few days. 

Chapter Text

Age 17, Eleventh Grade

A year had passed since that first day of high school, and the landscape of relationships and futures had shifted significantly. The group were now upperclassmen—juniors, with the weight of college entrance exams looming on the horizon and the pressure to finalize their life plans intensifying.

For some, the path forward was clear. For others, complications were beginning to mount.

Sasuke Uchiha, now seventeen, had become nearly impossible to ignore—not that he wanted attention, but his combination of academic excellence, striking appearance, and complete disinterest in social politics made him a subject of constant speculation and admiration. He was ranked first in their class. Had been for three years straight. He was also increasingly involved in his father's investigation business, learning the trade hands-on during weekends and summers. Fugaku had begun teaching him advanced techniques—surveillance, evidence documentation, interview strategies.

The work was interesting and meaningful. 

But lately, his father had been... different. More secretive. Working longer hours. Taking phone calls he wouldn't discuss.

Sasuke had mentioned it to Itachi during their regular video calls, and his brother's concern had been evident.

"Keep a close eye on him," Itachi had said. "If Father is investigating something big, he might be putting himself at risk."

Sasuke had promised he would.

Beyond family concerns, there was also the matter of Sakura Haruno.

Over the past two years, their friendship—if that's what it still was—had deepened into something comfortable and essential. They studied together constantly. Ate lunch together. Walked home together when their schedules aligned. They could communicate with glances across a classroom. They finished each other's sentences. They worked together with the kind of seamless coordination that usually took years to develop.

And Sasuke was increasingly aware that what he felt for Sakura was not, in fact, just friendship. He'd finally admitted as much to Itachi during summer break, and his brother had been insufferably smug about being right. The problem was doing something about it. Sasuke had exactly zero experience with romance. He didn't know how to confess feelings. Didn't know if Sakura felt the same way. Didn't want to ruin what they already had by making things awkward. So he did nothing. And tried to ignore the way his heart rate increased whenever she smiled at him.

Sakura Haruno had grown into a striking young woman. Her pink hair was her trademark now, worn long and usually pulled back with a red ribbon. She'd developed confidence in herself—not arrogance, but self-assurance born from years of hard work and achievement. She was on track for her dream of medical school. She'd started volunteering at the local hospital on weekends, shadowing doctors and learning practical skills. Her feelings for Sasuke had evolved from childhood crush into something deeper and more complicated. She knew him now, really knew him. His dry humor, his protective instincts, his rigid sense of justice, his occasional vulnerability that he showed to almost no one.

She was fairly certain he cared about her too, based on... well, everything. The way he looked at her. The way he always saved her a seat. The way he'd once threatened a guy who'd made an inappropriate comment about her. But he'd never said anything. Never made a move. Never indicated that he wanted to be more than friends. And Sakura, despite her confidence in other areas, couldn't quite bring herself to be the one to broach the subject.

So they existed in this strange limbo—closer than friends, not quite something more, both aware of the tension but neither willing to address it.

Ino found it alternately amusing and frustrating.

"Just kiss already," she'd said multiple times. "The sexual tension is painful to watch."

"There's no sexual tension," Sakura had protested weakly.

"Forehead, you literally stare at each other when you think no one's looking. It's embarrassing."

"We do not—"

"You absolutely do."

Naruto Uzumaki had hit his final growth spurt over the summer, now standing at 5'11" with the athletic build of someone who'd been on the track team for three years. His blonde hair was still impossibly spiky, his grin still bright, his energy still boundless. He was student council president—had been elected at the end of sophomore year and was now serving his second term. He was genuinely good at it, too. He listened to students, implemented real changes, worked hard to make things better. His grades had stabilized at respectable B-average. Not stellar, but solid enough for a decent university. His dream hadn't wavered. If anything, it had crystallized into an actual plan, study political science at university, intern with local government, work his way up through the system.

People respected him. Liked him. Believed in him.He was exactly the kind of charismatic, well-meaning person who could succeed in politics.He was also still completely oblivious to Hinata Hyuuga's obsession with him.

Hinata had learned to dress well, present herself confidently in public, speak without stammering most of the time. On the surface, she seemed like she'd overcome her childhood shyness. But underneath, the obsession had only intensified. She'd spent ten years fixated on Naruto Uzumaki. She knew his schedule down to the minute. She knew his favorite foods, his study habits, his training routine. She'd arranged her own schedule to maximize the chances of encountering him. She volunteered for every student council project he was involved in. She'd declined dates with other boys because they weren't Naruto. Her entire identity had become centered around him. And he still saw her as just a nice friend who was always willing to help.

The cognitive dissonance—between how much effort she put in and how little romantic interest he showed—would have broken most people. But Hinata had invested too much to give up now.

Just a little longer, she told herself. Just a little more effort. He'll notice eventually. He has to.

She'd also developed a complicated resentment toward Sakura—not overt, not acknowledged, but present. Sakura who could talk to anyone easily. Sakura who worked closely with Naruto on student council projects. Sakura who seemed to navigate relationships effortlessly.

Why is it so easy for her? What does she have that I don't?

Neji Hyuuga and Tenten had made it official—they were dating, had been since the middle of last year. Theirs was a relationship built on mutual respect, shared values, and real affection. Tenten supported him, challenged him, and kept him grounded. Tenten had been planning on studying social work and advocacy, intending to fight for workers' rights and social justice. Her goals complimented Neji's aspirations to study law and business in order to change unjust systems. 

Their homeroom teacher was the same Jiraiya-sensei they'd had freshman year, who'd specifically requested this group because, as he put it, "You're the least annoying batch of students I've had in years."

"Welcome to junior year," he announced as students filed in. "This is the year that actually matters. Colleges look at junior year grades. Entrance exams are looming. The pressure is real. Try not to crack under it."

"That's encouraging," someone muttered.

"I'm a realist, not a motivational speaker. Deal with it." Jiraiya-sensei pulled out his clipboard. "Now, seating. I'm not doing assigned seats because I trust you've matured enough not to cause problems. But if you prove me wrong, I will rearrange you with prejudice. Choose wisely." The familiar scramble ensued. Sasuke took a window seat in the second-to-last row—good view of the board, but not so far back that it looked like he was trying to hide. Sakura took the seat next to him without hesitation. This had been their configuration for two years now. It was natural. Naruto took the seat behind Sasuke, their traditional arrangement.

And Hinata, after a moment's hesitation, took a seat two rows over where she could see Naruto clearly without being directly adjacent to him. Close enough to observe. Far enough to avoid being obvious. Or so she thought.

Most of their classmates had long since noticed Hinata's fixation, but like Naruto, they'd learned to just... not comment on it. It was Hinata's thing. Everyone had their thing.

"Alright, now that everyone's settled," Jiraiya-sensei said, "let's talk about junior year expectations. You're all seventeen now—legally still minors but functionally young adults. This year is about preparation and decision-making. You need to finalize your university plans, take entrance exams, and figure out what you're doing with your lives."

He pulled out a stack of papers.

"These are career counseling appointment sheets. You'll each meet with me individually over the next few weeks to discuss your plans. Be prepared to justify your choices with actual reasoning, not just 'my parents want me to' or 'I don't know.' If you don't know, we'll figure it out together. But you need to put in the effort."

The papers were distributed.

"Also, fair warning, this year is when relationships tend to get complicated. You're at that age where hormones are fully online and emotions are big and dramatic. Try not to let romance drama tank your grades or create class tension. I do not want to mediate teenage relationship disputes. Handle your personal business like adults, please."

Several students laughed nervously. Sasuke and Sakura very carefully did not look at each other.

"Finally, know that I'm here if you need guidance—academic, personal, whatever. My door is open. Figuratively. My actual door is usually closed because I like privacy. But you know what I mean."

The bell rang, signaling the start of first period.

"Dismissed. Try not to embarrass me this year."

Sasuke's appointment with Jiraiya-sensei was scheduled for Wednesday after school.

He entered the teacher's office to find Jiraiya lounging in his chair with his feet on his desk, reading what appeared to be a romance novel thinly disguised with a textbook cover.

"Uchiha. Sit."

Sasuke sat, unsurprised by the informal atmosphere. Jiraiya-sensei had always been unconventional.

"So. Top of the class for three years running. Impressive work ethic. Strong in all subjects but particularly analytical ones. Father is a private investigator, brother is at Tokyo University studying criminal justice." Jiraiya set down his book and actually looked serious for once. "You're planning to follow in their footsteps?"

"Yes. Investigative work or law enforcement. Possibly both."

"Why?"

"Because truth and justice matter. Because people with power often abuse it, and someone needs to hold them accountable."

"Idealistic."

"Realistic. I've seen my father's work. I know what's out there."

Jiraiya studied him for a long moment. "You know that kind of work comes with risks, right? Powerful people don't like being investigated. They push back. Sometimes hard."

"I'm aware."

"And you're willing to accept those risks?"

"Yes."

"Hm." Jiraiya leaned back. "What about your personal life? You planning to have one, or are you going to be a monk dedicated to justice?"

Sasuke blinked at the sudden shift. "I... what?"

"Personal life. Friends, relationships, hobbies that aren't related to your career goals. You have any of those?"

"I have friends."

"Name three."

"Naruto, Sakura, Shikamaru."

"Good. Now, do you actually spend time with them doing non-academic activities, or is it all studying and planning the future?"

Sasuke hesitated.

"That's what I thought." Jiraiya-sensei's expression was knowing. "Look, Uchiha, you're a smart kid. Focused, disciplined, capable. But you're also seventeen and wound so tight you might snap. When's the last time you did something just for fun?"

"I don't—"

"See, that pause tells me it's been too long." Jiraiya stood and moved to look out the window. "Here's what I've learned from years of teaching: the students who focus solely on academics and career goals? They burn out. Or they succeed professionally but end up miserable personally. Because they never learned how to be human beings, just how to be successful."

"I don't see how this relates to career counseling."

"It relates because choosing a career isn't just about what you're good at or what pays well. It's about building a life that's actually worth living. And that requires balance." Jiraiya turned back to face him. "You want to be an investigator? Fine. Good choice for you. But you also need to figure out how to maintain relationships, process emotions, and have experiences that aren't just stepping stones to the next goal."

Sasuke was quiet, processing this.

"For example," Jiraiya continued with a knowing look, "that Haruno girl you sit next to. You two friends? More than friends? Complicated?"

"That's personal."

"Yep. And the fact that you deflected instead of answering tells me it's complicated." Jiraiya-sensei smiled. "Here's my advice, completely unsolicited. Figure out what you want with her. And then be honest about it. Because junior year is when people start making decisions about the future, and if you wait too long, opportunities pass."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You won't, but I tried." Jiraiya waved his hand dismissively. "Alright, official career counseling, apply to Tokyo University for their criminal justice program, have a few backup schools, keep your grades exactly where they are, take the entrance exams seriously. You'll get in. You're too competent not to."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Your career path is obvious. It's your personal life that needs work." Jiraiya returned to his desk. "Dismissed. Send in whoever's next."

Sasuke left, unsettled by the conversation in ways he couldn't quite articulate.

Sasuke's phone rang at 8 pm—Itachi's regular check-in time.

"Otouto. How's junior year treating you?"

"It's fine. How's your thesis coming?"

"Slowly. Researching systemic corruption is depressing." Itachi paused. "How are you really? You sound off."

Sasuke shouldn't have been surprised that Itachi could detect his mood through a phone call. His brother had always been perceptive.

"Had career counseling today. Jiraiya-sensei said some things that were... unexpected."

"Oh? What did he say?"

"That I'm too focused on career goals and not focused enough on actually living."

"Hm. He's not wrong."

"Itachi-nii—"

"I'm serious, Sasuke. When's the last time you did something that wasn't academic or career-related? When's the last time you just... existed without a goal?"

"I don't know. Why does everyone keep asking me this?"

"Because it's concerning. You're seventeen. You should be having experiences, making mistakes, figuring out who you are beyond your plans for the future."

"I know who I am."

Itachi's voice was gentle but challenging. "Do you know yourself or do you know who you think you should be? There's a difference."

Sasuke didn't have an answer for that.

"Let me ask you something," Itachi continued. "Have you talked to Sakura yet? About your feelings?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because... what if I'm wrong? What if she doesn't feel the same way? What if telling her ruins what we already have?"

"What if you're right? What if she does feel the same way? What if not telling her means you both miss out on something that could be really good?"

"I don't know how to do this," Sasuke admitted quietly. "I don't know how to... be vulnerable like that."

"I know. Most Uchiha are not known for emotional availability." Itachi's tone was dry. "But Sasuke, you can't control everything. You can't logic your way through emotions. Sometimes you just have to take a risk and see what happens."

"That's terrifying."

"Yes. That's what makes it brave." Itachi paused. "Look, I'm not saying you need to confess your undying love tomorrow. But maybe... spend time with her outside of studying? Do something fun together? See if there's space for more than just academic partnership?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Go see a movie. Get food that isn't cafeteria lunch. Take a walk somewhere. Have an actual conversation about things that aren't school-related." Itachi's voice softened. "Get to know her as a person, not just as a study partner. And let her know you as a person too."

"What if I'm bad at it?"

"Then you'll be bad at it and figure it out as you go. That's how everyone does it. No one is naturally good at relationships, we all have to learn."

Sasuke absorbed this.

"How's Father?" Itachi asked, changing subjects. "Still working those long hours?"

"Yes. He's been even more secretive lately. Taking calls in another room. Working past midnight some nights."

"Shit." Itachi's curse was uncharacteristic. "I was afraid of that."

"What do you think he's working on?"

"Something big. Something that's making powerful people nervous. I've been trying to get him to tell me details, but he just says it's 'progressing' and to not worry." Itachi's frustration was evident. "Let me know if anything changes or seems off Sasuke."

"I will."

They talked for a few more minutes before signing off, and Sasuke was left sitting in his room, thinking about vulnerability and risk and the terrifying prospect of telling Sakura how he felt.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and Sasuke had texted Sakura asking if she wanted to study together.

Her response, "Actually, do you want to do something else? We've been studying non-stop for weeks. Let's take a break."

Sasuke stared at his phone, Itachi's advice echoing in his mind.

Do something fun together. Have an actual conversation about things that aren't school-related.

He typed, "Like what?"

"There's a new café that opened downtown. Good coffee, quiet atmosphere. Want to check it out?"

This was different from their usual library study sessions. This was... more social. More personal.

Sasuke took a breath and typed, "Okay. Meet you there at 2?"

"Perfect! See you then!"

Sasuke immediately second-guessed this decision.

This wasn't a date. Obviously. Just two friends getting coffee. Completely normal. Nothing to be nervous about. He changed his shirt three times before leaving the house.

The café was small and modern, with comfortable seating and an atmosphere that encouraged lingering conversations rather than quick takeaway orders. Sakura was already there when Sasuke arrived, sitting at a corner table with two cups of coffee.

"I ordered for you," she said as he sat down. "Black coffee, no sugar. That's still your order, right?"

"Yes. Thanks."

The fact that she knew his coffee order without asking shouldn't have made his chest feel warm.

But it did.

They sat in slightly awkward silence for a moment—without textbooks and notes between them, the usual structure of their interactions was missing.

"So," Sakura said finally, smiling. "We're not studying. This is weird."

"Extremely weird."

"We should probably figure out how to have conversations that aren't about academics."

"Probably."

Another pause, then they both laughed at the absurdity of it.

"Okay, let's try this," Sakura said. "Tell me something about yourself that I don't know. Not school-related. Just something."

Sasuke thought for a moment. "I've been learning photography. My father uses it for surveillance work, but I find the artistic aspects interesting too."

"Really? I didn't know that. Have you taken any good photos?"

"Some. Mostly landscapes. The mountains near here at sunrise."

"I'd like to see them sometime."

"I could show you. If you want."

"I'd like that."

This wasn't so hard. They were having an actual conversation. About interests and hobbies. Like normal people.

"Your turn," Sasuke said. "Tell me something I don't know."

Sakura considered. "I've started learning piano. There's an old upright at my house that my grandmother used to play. I've been teaching myself in the evenings."

"What kind of music?"

"Classical, mostly. Some contemporary pieces. I'm not very good yet, but it's relaxing. A break from studying."

"I'd like to hear you play sometime."

"I'd like that," Sakura echoed his earlier words, and they shared a smile.

The conversation flowed more easily after that. They talked about movies they'd seen, books they'd read for pleasure, places they wanted to travel someday.

Sasuke learned that Sakura wanted to visit Italy for the art and architecture. That she stress-baked when exams were coming up. That she was secretly terrible at video games but kept trying anyway because Ino made her play. Sakura learned that Sasuke could do a perfect imitation of their homeroom teacher that made her nearly spit out her coffee. That he was actually quite expressive when he was comfortable, his face showing micro-expressions that revealed more than his words.

Two hours passed without them noticing. When Sakura's phone buzzed with a text from Ino demanding updates on what Ino had decided was definitely a date, she glanced at the time and blinked in surprise.

"It's four o'clock. We've been here for two hours."

"Hn." Sasuke checked his own phone. "I should probably head home. My mother wanted me back for dinner."

They gathered their things and walked out together.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the sidewalk as they headed in the direction of their neighborhood.

"This was nice," Sakura said. "We should do it more often. The not-studying thing, I mean."

"I agree." Sasuke paused, then added, "I enjoyed talking to you. About things that aren't academic."

"Me too." Sakura's smile was warm and genuine. "Turns out we're both actual people with interests and personalities."

"Shocking revelation."

She laughed, and Sasuke felt that now-familiar warmth in his chest.

They reached the point where their paths diverged—Sakura's house was three blocks north, Sasuke's was four blocks east.

"See you later?" Sakura said.

"Yeah, see you."

She hesitated for just a moment, like she might say something else, then seemed to think better of it.

"Bye, Sasuke-kun."

"Bye, Sakura."

He watched her walk away, and thought about Itachi's advice.

Do something fun together. See if there's space for more than just academic partnership.

There was definitely space. The question was whether he was brave enough to actually do something about it.

At 8 pm, Sasuke's phone rang.

"Let me guess," Itachi said without preamble. "You did something social with Sakura, realized you actually enjoy her company outside of academic contexts, and now you're spiraling about what it means."

"How did you—"

"I'm your brother. I know you. Also, you have a tell when something emotional is happening—you get very quiet on social media. You haven't posted or commented on anything all afternoon, which means you were busy with something that occupied your full attention."

"That's disturbing."

"That's being observant." Itachi sounded amused. "So? What did you do?"

"We got coffee. Talked. For two hours."

"And?"

"And... it was good. Easy. I didn't want it to end."

"Congratulations, otouto. You've discovered that you enjoy spending time with someone you like. This is normal human behavior."

"You're mocking me."

"A little. But I'm also proud of you for actually taking a step forward." Itachi's voice softened. "How do you feel now?"

"Confused. Nervous. Uncertain about what to do next."

"Also normal. Here's what you do next: you ask her to do something else. Another coffee date, or a movie, or whatever. You keep spending time together. You build a foundation. And eventually, when the moment feels right, you tell her how you feel."

"Eventually?"

"Yes, eventually. Not immediately. You've made progress, but you're not at the confession stage yet. Give it time. Let things develop naturally."

"What if I mess it up?"

"Then you'll mess it up and learn from it. That's how this works." Itachi paused. "But Sasuke? I don't think you'll mess it up. You're more capable than you give yourself credit for. And from everything you've told me about Sakura, she seems like someone who would be patient with you figuring things out."

"She is."

"Then trust that. Trust her. And trust yourself."

After the call ended, Sasuke lay in bed thinking about coffee conversations and two-hour talks and the way Sakura's green eyes lit up when she laughed.

Maybe Itachi was right. Maybe this could actually work. Maybe he just needed to be brave enough to try.

Over the next month, Sasuke and Sakura's "not-study sessions" became a regular occurrence.

Every Saturday or Sunday, they'd meet somewhere—a café, a bookstore, the park when the weather was nice—and just talk.

Sometimes they'd discuss serious things like future plans, philosophical questions, the pressure of junior year. Sometimes they'd discuss completely frivolous things like terrible movies they'd seen, ridiculous rumors circulating at school, hypothetical scenarios like "what superpower would you choose and why." It was easy. Natural. The kind of comfortable companionship that usually took years to develop, but for them had seemed to happen almost effortlessly. Their classmates noticed.

"They're basically dating," Ino declared to their friend group one day at lunch when Sasuke and Sakura were both absent.

"But they won't admit it," Choji added.

Naruto contributed cheerfully, "It's painful to watch, actually. They're so obviously into each other but they just... don't say anything."

"Should we say something?" Kiba asked.

"Absolutely not," Shikamaru interjected, "They'll figure it out on their own eventually. Interfering will just make it more troublesome for everyone."

"But it's taking forever!"

"Some things take time. Let them handle it."

Across the courtyard, Hinata ate her lunch alone and watched Naruto laugh with his friends.

She'd noticed Sasuke and Sakura's developing relationship. Had watched them grow closer. Had seen the way they looked at each other.

And she'd thought, If they can make it work, maybe I can too. Maybe if I just keep trying, keep being there for Naruto, he'll eventually see me the way Sasuke sees Sakura.

The resentment toward Sakura grew, though Hinata would never admit it, even to herself. Every time she saw Sakura laugh easily with Naruto during student council meetings, every time she watched Sakura navigate social situations with confidence, the small bitter seed in Hinata's chest grew a little more.

It's not fair. I've tried so much harder. I've loved him so much longer.

Why does everything come so easily to her?

It was a Friday evening, and Sasuke and Sakura had decided to see a movie—some action thriller that had gotten decent reviews.

They'd been doing this for two months now, regular outings, increasingly comfortable with each other, toeing the line between friendship and something more without ever quite crossing it.

The movie was good. The theater was mostly empty—a late showing on a school night meant only a handful of other people were there.

Halfway through, during a particularly tense scene, Sakura grabbed Sasuke's arm without thinking.

He didn't pull away.

After the immediate tension passed, she realized what she'd done and started to let go.

Sasuke's hand moved to cover hers before she could fully withdraw.

They sat like that for the rest of the movie—hands loosely intertwined, both acutely aware of the contact but neither acknowledging it.

When the movie ended and the lights came up, they separated naturally, both standing and gathering their things without comment.

They walked out of the theater in charged silence.

Finally, as they stood outside in the cool November air, Sakura said, "That was a good movie."

"Yes."

"The part where—"

"Sakura."

She looked up at him. His expression was serious, slightly nervous, very un-Sasuke-like.

"We should talk," he said. "About... this. Whatever this is between us."

Sakura's heart started racing. "Okay."

"I don't... I'm not good at this. Talking about feelings. Being vulnerable. Any of it."

"I know."

"But I think... I think we've been avoiding something we should probably address."

"What's that?"

Sasuke met her eyes. "I care about you. More than just as a friend. And I think... I think you might feel similarly? But I'm not certain, and I don't want to assume, and—"

"Sasuke."

He stopped, looking at her.

Sakura smiled, and there was something both nervous and relieved in her expression. "Yes. I feel similarly."

"Oh." Sasuke processed this. "Good. That's... that's good."

"So what now?"

"I don't know. I've never done this before."

"Me neither."

They stood there, two intelligent people completely at a loss for what to do next.

Finally, Sasuke said, "Would you... want to be my girlfriend? Officially?"

It was awkward and formal and completely lacking in romantic flourish.

It was also perfectly Sasuke.

Sakura's smile widened, "Yes. I would like that very much."

"Good. That's... good." Sasuke seemed uncertain what to do with his hands. "Should we do something? Is there a protocol for this?"

"I think we're supposed to tell people. Make it official."

"That seems premature. We should figure things out first. See how it works."

"Sasuke, we've been basically dating for two months. We're just making it official now."

"I suppose that's true."

Sakura stepped closer. "Can I kiss you?"

Sasuke's eyes widened slightly. "I... yes?"

It was tentative and brief—just a soft press of lips, lasting only a few seconds.

But it was their first kiss, and when they pulled back, both were smiling.

"That was nice," Sakura said.

"It was," Sasuke agreed.

"We should do that more often."

"I agree."

They walked home together, hands linked, both slightly giddy with the newness of it all.

It wasn't dramatic or explosive or filled with grand romantic gestures.

But it was real and exactly right for them.

Sasuke called his brother before bed, unable to keep this to himself.

"Itachi-nii."

"Otouto. You sound different. What happened?"

"How do you always know—never mind. I... Sakura and I are dating now. Officially."

Silence. Then, "Finally! Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to get your act together?"

"You're being dramatic."

"I'm being accurate. I've been listening to you pine for this girl for so long. Congratulations on finally doing something about it."

"Your support is overwhelming."

"I am supportive! I'm thrilled! Tell me what happened."

Sasuke recounted the evening—the movie, the hand-holding, the awkward but successful conversation.

Itachi listened, and when Sasuke finished, his voice was warm. "I'm proud of you, otouto. I know that wasn't easy for you. Being vulnerable like that."

"It was terrifying."

"That's what makes it brave. And it sounds like it went well."

"It did. She said yes. We're together now."

"How do you feel?"

Sasuke thought about it. "Happy and nervous. Uncertain about what comes next. But also right. Like this is how things should be."

"That's good, Sasuke. That's really good." Itachi paused. "Make sure you tell her how you feel regularly. Don't assume she knows. Communication is important in relationships."

"I will. I'll try, anyway."

They talked for a few more minutes before saying goodnight.

Sasuke and Sakura settled into their relationship with surprising ease.

They'd been so close already that the shift from "not-quite-dating" to "official couple" was more about labeling what already existed than changing their actual dynamic.

They still studied together—though now it often involved stolen kisses between textbooks.

They still talked for hours about everything and nothing.

They still worked together with that seamless coordination that made them seem like they'd been together for years.

The main difference was that Sasuke was learning how to be affectionate. To express feelings verbally instead of just through actions. To say "I missed you" and "I care about you" and occasionally even "I love you." It didn't come naturally to him. But Sakura was patient, and he was trying. And slowly, Sasuke began to understand what Itachi had meant about balance. About having something in his life beyond academics and career goals. About the importance of genuine human connection.

He was happy in a way he hadn't been before.

Their friends reacted with varying degrees of support and "finally!"

Ino had literally screamed when Sakura told her, then demanded to know every detail.

Naruto had grinned and said, "Took you long enough! Congrats, Sasuke!"

Even Shikamaru had managed a "Good. Now maybe you'll both be less troublesome to be around."

Neji and Tenten had offered quiet congratulations and genuine happiness for them.

The group, watching their friends find happiness, felt a collective sense of rightness.

Except for Hinata.

Who watched Naruto congratulate Sasuke, watched him be genuinely happy for his friend's relationship, and thought, When will he be happy about me? When will he see me the way Sasuke sees Sakura?

The resentment toward Sakura—who seemed to have everything Hinata wanted—grew stronger. But she pushed it down. Told herself it wasn't Sakura's fault. Told herself to just keep trying.

Just keep being there. Eventually, he'll notice.

It was a Wednesday evening, and Sasuke had stayed late at school to help Sakura organize some student council documents. Naruto was great at the public-facing aspects of being president, but paperwork was not his strength.

They finished around 7 pm and were walking toward the front entrance when Sasuke heard raised voices coming from the teacher's parking lot.

"—not backing down from this! The evidence is solid!"

That was his father's voice.

Sasuke stopped walking, and Sakura noticed immediately. "What's wrong?"

"That's my father. Something's... off." Sasuke moved toward the voices, and Sakura followed.

They stayed hidden behind a corner of the building, watching.

Fugaku was standing next to his car, facing two men in expensive suits. The men looked angry, aggressive.

"You're making a mistake, Uchiha. Drop this investigation. Walk away."

"I don't respond to threats," Fugaku said calmly, but Sasuke could see the tension in his father's shoulders.

"It's not a threat. It's a warning. You're digging into things that don't concern you. Things that could be... dangerous for you and your family."

Sasuke felt ice in his veins. They're threatening Father. And threatening our family.

"My family is none of your concern," Fugaku said, voice hardening. "And the corruption I've documented is very much the public's concern. It's going to the authorities regardless of your intimidation attempts."

"You're a fool, Uchiha. You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"I know exactly what I'm dealing with. Now get off this property before I call security."

The men exchanged looks, then got into a black sedan and drove away.

Fugaku stood there for a long moment, then pulled out his phone and made a call. "I need you to hear something..."

Sasuke didn't wait to hear more. He grabbed Sakura's hand and pulled her away from the building.

"Sasuke, what was that about?" Sakura looked worried. "Those men—"

"I don't know. But it's not good." Sasuke's mind was racing. "My father's been working on something dangerous. Something that's making powerful people nervous."

"Should we tell someone? A teacher? The police?"

"I need to talk to Itachi first. He'll know what to do."

They walked in silence for a while, both processing what they'd witnessed.

Finally, Sakura said, "Whatever happens, I'm here. Okay? You're not dealing with this alone."

Sasuke looked at her—this girl who'd become so essential to his life—and felt grateful beyond words.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For everything."

She squeezed his hand. "That's what I'm here for."

But neither of them knew then that things were about to get much, much worse. The threats against Fugaku would escalate. The investigation would reach a critical point. And within months, everything would fall apart in ways they couldn't imagine. But for now, they had each other. And they clung to that as the shadows grew darker around them.

Chapter Text

Age 17, Eleventh Grade Continued

Sasuke and Sakura's relationship had settled into a comfortable rhythm over the winter break.

They'd spent New Year's together—both families had been invited to a community celebration, and they'd watched the fireworks side by side, fingers intertwined, making quiet promises about the future.

Sasuke had even met Sakura's parents officially as her boyfriend as opposed to just being known as "that Uchiha boy she studies with". Her father had been skeptical but impressed by Sasuke's maturity and clear respect for his daughter. Her mother had been charmed by his polite manners and the way he looked at Sakura like she was the most important person in the room.

Sakura had already met Sasuke's parents multiple times over the years, but Mikoto had pulled her aside during one visit and said, "I'm so glad it's you. I've been hoping for years that Sasuke would finally realize what was right in front of him."

It should have been perfect. But there was a shadow hanging over the Uchiha household that Sasuke couldn't ignore. His father was working constantly now. Some nights, he didn't come home at all. When he was home, he was distant, preoccupied, clearly under enormous stress.

His mother was worried, Sasuke could see it in the way she watched his father, the way she'd tried multiple times to get him to talk about what he was working on.

"It's municipal corruption," Fugaku had finally said one evening when pressed. "I've been building this case for three years. It involves multiple city officials, construction companies, bid-rigging, embezzlement of public funds. Millions of yen, all documented."

"And you're going to take it to the authorities?" Mikoto had asked.

"Soon. I need to make sure everything is airtight. These are powerful people—they'll fight back hard. I can't give them any opening to discredit the evidence."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Potentially. But it's necessary. This level of corruption needs to be exposed."

Sasuke had been listening from the hallway, and his stomach had twisted with dread. He'd called Itachi immediately after, reporting what he'd heard.

"Shit," Itachi had said. "That's what I was afraid of. If Father is really going after city officials and construction companies, he's threatening people with a lot to lose. Those kinds of people don't just accept exposure quietly."

"What should we do?"

"I don't know. I'll try talking to Father again, see if I can convince him to at least bring in the police now instead of waiting. The longer he holds onto that evidence alone, the more danger he's in."

"He won't listen. You know how he is—stubborn, convinced he needs to do things perfectly before involving authorities."

"I know. But I have to try." Itachi had paused. "Be careful yourself. If these people think Father has shared information with family members, they might come after you or Mother too."

"You're scaring me."

"Good. You should be scared. This is serious."

That conversation had been two weeks ago.

Since then, Sasuke had been hyper vigilant—watching for anything unusual, keeping track of his father's schedule, making sure his mother was never alone for long periods of time.

He hadn't told Sakura all the details, but she could tell something was wrong.

"You're distracted," she'd said one evening when they were supposed to be studying but Sasuke kept checking his phone. "What's going on?"

"Family stuff. My father's work. It's... complicated."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet. Maybe not ever. I don't want to drag you into this."

Sakura had taken his hand. "Sasuke, we're together now. That means you don't have to handle everything alone. Whatever's happening with your family—I'm here. Okay?"

He'd kissed her then, grateful beyond words for her presence in his life.

But he still didn't tell her the full extent of what was happening. He didn't want her involved. Didn't want her to be in danger.

Valentine's Day fell on a Friday that year, and Sasuke had planned something special, or as special as Sasuke's version of romance could be.

He'd made reservations at a nice restaurant. A place that was not too fancy, but nicer than their usual café hangouts. He'd bought flowers, pink roses, because they matched Sakura's hair and he knew she'd appreciate the thoughtfulness. He'd even written her a card, which had taken him three hours and seven drafts because expressing emotions in writing was somehow even harder than speaking them aloud.

The card said simply, "You make everything better. Thank you for being patient with me while I figure out how to be good at this. —Sasuke"

It wasn't poetry. But it was honest, and that mattered more.

They met at the restaurant at 7 pm. 

Sakura was wearing a emerald green dress that made Sasuke momentarily forget how to form words.

"You look beautiful," he managed finally.

She smiled, pleased. "You look good too. Very handsome in that button-down."

They were seated at a quiet corner table, and for the next two hours, they just existed together.

They talked about everything and nothing—about college plans—they'd both decided on Tokyo University, which meant they'd be together, about future careers, about what kind of lives they wanted to build.

"I want to be a surgeon," Sakura said. "Specifically, I want to work in pediatric surgery. Make a difference for kids who need help."

"You'll be excellent at it," Sasuke said with complete certainty. "You have the intelligence, the steady hands, the ability to stay calm under pressure."

"What about you? Still planning on investigative work?"

"Yes. Like my father and brother. But I want to specialize in corporate and political corruption. Hold powerful people accountable." Sasuke paused. "My father's current case has made me realize how important that work is. How much damage can be done when corruption goes unchecked."

"It sounds dangerous."

"It can be. But it's necessary."

Sakura reached across the table and took his hand. "Just be careful, okay? Don't take unnecessary risks. The world needs people like you, but I need you too."

Sasuke squeezed her hand. "I'll be careful. I promise."

After dinner, they walked through the city center, where Valentine's decorations were still up and the streets were filled with couples. They stopped at a park overlook that gave a view of the city lights.

"This has been a perfect evening," Sakura said, leaning against Sasuke's side. "Thank you for planning it."

"You're welcome. Thank you for everything. For being patient with me. For understanding me. For being here."

Sakura looked up at him. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

They kissed, soft and sweet, the city lights twinkling around them. It was perfect.

Sasuke woke up to his phone ringing at 6 AM. It was Itachi, which was unusual—his brother never called this early unless something was wrong.

"Itachi-nii?" Sasuke answered, still groggy. "What's—"

"Is Father home?" Itachi's voice was tense, urgent.

"I... I don't know. Let me check." Sasuke got out of bed, went into the hallway and to check around the house.

"He's not here."

"Fuck." Itachi rarely swore. "Sasuke, listen to me carefully. Father called me at midnight. He said he'd just delivered all his investigation evidence to the police. He said if anything happened to him, I needed to make sure you and Mother were safe. Then he hung up."

Ice flooded Sasuke's veins. "What do you mean 'if anything happened to him'?"

"I've been trying to call him back for six hours. No answer. His phone goes straight to voicemail. I've already called the Nagi police—they confirmed they received the evidence but said Father left the station around 1 am. They haven't seen him since."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. But Sasuke, I need you to wake Mother and get out of the house. Go to Sakura's or somewhere public. Somewhere safe."

"Why? What's—"

"Because if the people Father was investigating know he's turned over evidence, they might come after the family. I don't want to scare you, but this is serious. Get Mother and leave. Now."

"I'm not leaving without knowing where Father is!"

"Sasuke—"

"No! We need to find him! He could be hurt, he could be—"

"I know. And I'm looking. But your safety and Mother's safety is the priority right now. Please, otouto. Please just do what I'm asking."

Sasuke's hands were shaking. "Okay. Okay. I'll wake Mother. We'll go somewhere safe."

"Call me as soon as you're secure. I'm catching the first train to Nagi. I'll be there by noon."

"Okay."

"Sasuke? I love you. Be careful."

"You too."

The call ended.

Sasuke stood in the hallway, mind racing, fear clawing at his chest.

Then he went to wake his mother and tell her that her husband was missing.

By noon, there was still no word from Fugaku.

Itachi had arrived as promised and was coordinating with the police.

Sasuke and Mikoto were at the Haruno household—Sakura's parents had immediately agreed to host them when Sasuke had called that morning, asking if they could stay for a few hours.

Sakura sat next to Sasuke on the couch, holding his hand while he stared at his phone, willing it to ring with news from his father.

"They'll find him," she said quietly. "The police are looking. Itachi is looking. He'll be okay."

"You don't know that."

"No. But I have to believe it. And so do you."

Mikoto was in the kitchen with Sakura's mother, trying to stay busy, trying not to fall apart.

Itachi burst through the front door of the Haruno household at 1 pm, and Sasuke knew immediately from his expression that the news was bad.

"They found him," Itachi said, voice carefully controlled. "He's alive. He's in the hospital. But Sasuke... it's not good."

"What happened?"

"He was attacked. Beaten. They found him in an alley downtown around 11 am. He'd been there for hours." Itachi's jaw was tight. "He's conscious, but he's badly hurt. Multiple broken bones, internal injuries. The doctors are saying it's serious."

Mikoto appeared in the doorway, face pale. "I need to see him."

"Of course. I'll take you both to the hospital now."

Sasuke looked at Sakura. "I have to—"

"Go. Of course. I'll be here when you get back."

He kissed her forehead quickly, then followed Itachi and his mother out the door.

At the hospital, they were led to the ICU. Fugaku was unconscious, hooked up to multiple machines, face swollen and bruised beyond recognition. Mikoto made a sound like she'd been physically struck and rushed to his bedside. Sasuke stood frozen in the doorway, unable to process what he was seeing. This was his father. Strong, capable, always in control Fugaku Uchiha. Reduced to this.

"Who did this?" Sasuke asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"We don't know yet," Itachi said. "But based on the timing—right after he delivered the evidence—it's clearly connected to his investigation."

"The people he was investigating?"

"Likely. Or people they hired. The police are looking into it."

A doctor appeared. "Uchiha family?"

"Yes," Itachi said.

"I'm Dr. Senju. I've been treating Fugaku-san. His injuries are severe—broken ribs, fractured skull, internal bleeding that we've managed to control. He's stable for now, but the next 48 hours are critical."

"Will he be okay?" Mikoto asked, voice breaking.

"I can't make promises. But we're doing everything we can."

They stayed at the hospital for hours. Fugaku didn't wake up.

The doctors said that was normal, that his body was in shock and needed time to heal. But seeing him like this, unconscious and broken, was almost unbearable.

Fugaku remained unconscious. The police investigation into his attack was ongoing, but there were no suspects yet—or if there were, they weren't sharing that information with the family.

The media had caught wind of the story: "Local Investigator Attacked After Exposing Municipal Corruption Scandal."

Suddenly, their family tragedy was public news. Reporters were camped outside the hospital. News vans lined the street near the Uchiha house. It was a nightmare. Itachi had stayed in Nagi, taking a leave of absence from university to be with the family. Sasuke had missed school Friday and Monday, unable to focus on anything except his father's condition. Sakura had come to the hospital Sunday afternoon, bringing food that no one had appetite for but forcing them to eat anyway because "you need to keep your strength up."

She sat with Sasuke in the waiting room while Mikoto and Itachi were in with Fugaku.

"How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I'm not." Sasuke's voice was hollow. "I keep thinking—if I'd noticed something sooner. If I'd convinced him to go to the police earlier. If I'd—"

"Stop. This isn't your fault. You couldn't have prevented this."

"He was threatened. Those men in the parking lot—I saw them threaten him and I didn't do enough. I should have—"

"Sasuke." Sakura took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Listen to me. You are not responsible for what happened to your father. The people who did this are responsible. No one else."

"I could have done more."

"You're seventeen. You're not expected to protect your father from violent criminals. That's not your job."

Sasuke closed his eyes, and for the first time since this nightmare began, he let himself cry. Sakura held him while he broke down, whispering reassurances, being the anchor he desperately needed.

Fugaku woke up. Four days after the attack, his eyes finally opened. He was disoriented, in pain, but alive and conscious. The relief was overwhelming.

"Mikoto," he rasped, seeing his wife. "Boys?"

"We're here, Father," Itachi said, moving into his line of sight. "Sasuke's here too."

"The evidence—"

"Is with the police. They have everything. You did it, Father. The case is being prosecuted."

"Good." Fugaku's eyes drifted closed again. "Good."

The doctors said his recovery would be long. Months of physical therapy. Possible permanent damage.

But he was alive.

That was what mattered.

The next month was a blur of hospital visits, police interviews, media attention, and trying to maintain some semblance of normal life.

The corruption scandal that Fugaku had exposed was enormous. Multiple city officials arrested, construction company executives facing charges, millions of yen in embezzled public funds being recovered. It was front-page news for weeks. And the Uchiha family was at the center of it all.

Sasuke tried to return to school, but it was impossible to focus. His classmates stared. Teachers treated him with careful sympathy. Reporters occasionally showed up at the school trying to get interviews. His grades, which had always been perfect, started to slip.

Not dramatically—he was still above average. But the usual effortless excellence was gone, replaced by obvious struggle. Sakura stayed by his side through all of it. She tutored him when he fell behind. She ran interference with curious classmates. She provided stability when everything else was chaos.

"You don't have to do this," Sasuke told her one evening when she'd spent three hours helping him catch up on literature homework. "This isn't your burden."

"Yes, it is. Because you're my burden. Willingly chosen. That's what relationships are—choosing to share burdens."

"I don't deserve you."

"Shut up. Yes, you do."

Itachi had returned to Tokyo in late March when it became clear Fugaku was going to survive and recover, but he called every day.

"How are you really doing?" he'd ask on the phone.

"I'm managing," Sasuke would lie.

"Don't bullshit me. You're struggling. I can hear it in your voice."

"Fine. I'm struggling. Everything is wrong. Father is broken. Mother is barely holding it together. School feels pointless. I can't focus. I can't sleep. I'm angry all the time and I don't know what to do with it."

"That's normal. Trauma response. Have you considered talking to someone? A counselor?"

"No."

"You should. This isn't something you can just logic your way through."

"I'll think about it."

He didn't think about it. He pushed the emotions down and tried to function. It wasn't working, but he kept trying anyway.

The trial for the corruption case began in early April. Fugaku was called to testify, despite still being in recovery. He appeared in court in a wheelchair, face still showing fading bruises, and laid out his evidence methodically. It was devastating testimony. The defendants' lawyers tried to discredit him, arguing that he'd been conducting illegal surveillance, that his evidence was inadmissible, that he had ulterior motives. But the evidence spoke for itself—documents, photographs, recorded conversations, paper trails that couldn't be explained away.

The prosecution was building an ironclad case. But the defense was fighting dirty. They started going after Fugaku personally—dredging up old cases, questioning his methods, implying he was corrupt himself. It was character assassination, and it was brutal to watch. Sasuke sat in the courtroom gallery with his mother, listening to lawyers tear his father apart, and felt rage building inside him. After one particularly vicious day of cross-examination, Sasuke found Sakura waiting outside the courthouse.

"What are you doing here?"

"Supporting you. I figured you'd need someone after today."

"You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to." She took his hand. "Come on. Let's go somewhere quiet."

They ended up at a park, sitting on a bench, watching the sunset.

"I hate them," Sasuke said suddenly. "The people who did this to my father. The lawyers trying to destroy his reputation. All of them."

"That's understandable."

"I want to make them pay. I want—" He stopped, fists clenched. "I don't know what I want. Justice? Revenge? Some combination?"

"You want the people responsible to face consequences. That's justice, not revenge."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. Justice is impersonal. Fair. Following the law. Revenge is personal. Often unfair. Outside the law." Sakura squeezed his hand. "Your father chose justice. He did everything the right way—documented evidence, went to authorities, testified in court. He's getting justice, even if it's slow and painful."

"What if justice isn't enough?"

"Then you still choose it. Because the alternative is becoming what you're fighting against."

Sasuke absorbed this.

"You're going to be okay," Sakura said quietly. "Your family is going to be okay. It doesn't feel like it now, but you will get through this."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're strong. Your family is strong. And you're not alone." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "You have me. You have Itachi. You have friends who care about you. That matters."

"Thank you," Sasuke said quietly. "For being here. For everything."

"Always."

They sat there as the sun set, and for a moment, the anger and pain receded slightly. Not gone. But manageable.

Life had to continue, even while the trial dragged on.

The annual cultural festival was scheduled for late May, and despite everything, the school expected participation. Class 3-A needed to decide on their exhibit.

"We should do something simple this year," someone suggested. "Given everything happening..." Everyone carefully didn't look at Sasuke.

He appreciated the consideration, but also felt a flash of irritation. He didn't want to be treated like he might shatter at any moment.

"I think we should do the detective café again," Sakura said suddenly. "It was successful our freshman year. We already know how to execute it. And it's thematically appropriate."

"Thematically appropriate?" someone asked.

"Yes. Detective work. Investigation. Justice. Seems fitting given current events." Sakura looked directly at Sasuke. "What do you think?"

He understood what she was doing—giving him some control, some agency, in a situation where he'd had none for months.

"I think it's a good idea," he said. "Let's do it."

The class voted, and the detective noir café won again.

Over the next few weeks, as the trial continued to drag through the courts, Sasuke threw himself into festival preparation. It was a distraction. A way to feel productive. A way to think about something other than his father's ongoing recovery and the vicious courtroom battles. He redesigned the mystery puzzle—making it more complex, more challenging, pouring all his analytical energy into creating something perfect. Sakura coordinated again, managing all the moving pieces with her characteristic efficiency. They worked together like they always had—seamless, intuitive, supportive. And slowly, in small increments, Sasuke started to feel like himself again. Not fully. There was still anger and pain and trauma that needed processing. But the complete numbness that had dominated February and March was receding. He was healing.

The festival arrived on a sunny day in May.

The detective noir café was, once again, a massive success.

Students and community members filled the classroom, solving mysteries, eating themed food, praising the atmosphere and attention to detail.

Sasuke, dressed once again in his detective costume, manned the mystery station. Sakura, in her femme fatale dress, coordinated everything else. At one point during a brief lull, she appeared at his side.

"We make a good team," she said—echoing what he'd said two years ago during their freshman festival.

"We do," Sasuke agreed.

"Are you doing okay? Really?"

"Better than I was. Not great, but better."

"That's progress."

"It is." Sasuke looked at her. "Thank you. For staying. For not giving up on me when things got hard."

"I told you—I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

"Good."

They shared a brief kiss—nothing dramatic, just a quiet affirmation of their connection. Then the next wave of customers arrived and they returned to work.

As the festival wound down in the late afternoon, someone announced that there would be fireworks at 9 pm as the closing event.

"We should watch together!" Naruto declared to the group. "From the roof, like last time!"

Last time had been their freshman year, but the tradition had stuck, upperclassmen often gathered on the roof to watch the closing fireworks.The group reconvened as the sun set. They climbed to the roof access—officially forbidden but universally ignored during festival nights—and found spots with good views. Sasuke and Sakura sat together, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her waist. Neji and Tenten sat similarly, comfortable in their long-established relationship. Naruto sat with Kiba and Choji, laughing about something. And Hinata positioned herself near Naruto—not directly next to him, but close enough to be in his orbit.

The fireworks began at exactly 9 pm. Brilliant explosions of color against the darkening sky—reds, golds, blues, greens, cascading patterns of light and sound.

"Beautiful," Sakura murmured.

"Yes," Sasuke agreed, though he was looking at her rather than the fireworks.

She noticed and smiled. "Smooth."

"I try."

Nearby, Hinata was watched Naruto gaze at the fireworks —the way the light reflected in his eyes, the way he smiled with pure joy at the display.

This is perfect. Being here with him. Sharing this moment.

She shifted slightly closer. Naruto didn't notice. He was too busy pointing out different firework patterns to Kiba, laughing, being his usual enthusiastic self. Completely oblivious to Hinata's proximity, her longing, her years of devotion. The fireworks continued—burst after burst of light and color.

And in that moment, on that rooftop, there existed in a pocket of normalcy. Despite the trauma of the past few months. Despite the ongoing trial. Despite all the complications of being seventeen and trying to figure out the future. For this moment, they were just teenagers watching fireworks. And that was enough.

The trial concluded in early June.

The verdict was read in a packed courtroom. Guilty on all counts for the primary defendants—city officials, construction executives, everyone involved in the corruption scheme. Sentences ranged from 5 to 15 years in prison, plus massive financial penalties. It was a complete victory. Fugaku's investigation had resulted in one of the largest corruption busts in the region's history. The media called him a hero. The Uchiha family just called him alive.

"It's over," Mikoto said that evening, sitting in their living room with both sons. "It's finally over."

"The trial is over," Fugaku corrected, still moving carefully due to his injuries. "The appeals will take years. And the consequences will linger long after that."

"But the immediate danger is past?" Itachi asked.

"Yes. The people who wanted to silence me are in prison. The physical threat is gone."

Sasuke felt something unclench in his chest, a tension he'd been carrying for months finally releasing.

It was over. His father was safe. His family was safe. The people responsible were facing consequences. Justice had been served. It didn't erase the trauma. Didn't undo the damage. Didn't magically fix everything that had been broken. But it was something.

The last few weeks of the school year were strange.

Sasuke's grades had stabilized—not quite back to his usual perfect scores, but solid A's. Under the circumstances, it was acceptable. His college applications were still strong. His future was still on track. He'd started seeing the school counselor twice a week—Itachi had insisted, and eventually Sasuke had admitted it was helping. Talking about the trauma, processing the anger, learning healthy coping mechanisms—it was all useful. Slowly, he was becoming himself again. Sakura had been there through all of it, patient and supportive and exactly what he needed.

"You saved me," he told her one evening as they walked home from school. "These past few months—I wouldn't have made it through without you."

"You would have. You're stronger than you think. But I'm glad I could help."

"I love you," Sasuke said. It was only the third or fourth time he'd said it aloud, and it still felt momentous.

"I love you too," Sakura replied, squeezing his hand.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while.

"What happens now?" Sakura asked. "Senior year coming up. College after that. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking... I want to keep doing what my father did. Investigative work. Exposing corruption. Holding powerful people accountable." Sasuke's voice was firm. "What happened to him just reinforced why that work matters. Why someone needs to do it."

"Even knowing how dangerous it can be?"

"Especially knowing how dangerous it can be. Because if people are willing to kill to protect their secrets, those secrets need to be exposed."

Sakura looked at him with a mixture of pride and concern. "Just promise me you'll be careful. That you won't take unnecessary risks."

"I promise. And besides, I'll have you keeping me grounded. Reminding me to think before acting. Being the voice of reason."

"Is that my job in this relationship? Voice of reason?"

"Among other things."

"What are the other things?"

"Making me laugh. Keeping me sane. Being beautiful and brilliant and everything I need."

Sakura blushed. "You're getting better at this whole romance thing."

"I have a good teacher."

They reached Sakura's house, and she kissed him goodbye—soft and sweet and full of promise.

"See you tomorrow, Sasuke-kun."

"See you tomorrow."

As Sasuke walked the rest of the way home, he thought about the past five months. The trauma. The fear. The anger. The slow, painful recovery. But also the moments of grace. The support from friends and family. The relationship with Sakura that had deepened and solidified through crisis. He'd been broken by what happened to his father. But he was healing. And he would be stronger for it. The trial was over. The immediate danger had passed. Now came the work of rebuilding and moving forward.

Of becoming the person he was meant to be—shaped by trauma but not defined by it. It wouldn't be easy. But with Sakura beside him, with Itachi's support from Tokyo, with his father's example of integrity and his mother's quiet strength— He would be okay. They would all be okay.

Chapter Text

Age 18, Senior Year

The beginning of senior year should have felt triumphant—the final year of high school, college on the horizon, the cusp of adulthood and independence.

Instead, it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, unable to see what lay below.

Sasuke walked through the gates of Nagi High School for his final first day there, and everything felt simultaneously familiar and different. The building was the same. The routines were the same. Even most of his classmates were the same.

But he was different.

The trauma of the previous spring—his father's attack, the trial, the slow recovery—had changed something fundamental in him. He was harder now. More guarded. Less willing to trust that the world was fundamentally just. He'd spent the summer working with his father in the investigation business, spending time to understand the depth of corruption that existed in seemingly respectable institutions. It had been enlightening and depressing in equal measure.

Fugaku was doing better physically—mostly recovered, though he still tired easily and had to use a cane on bad days. But the attack had aged him in ways that went beyond the physical injuries.

"You need to be careful, Sasuke," his father had said multiple times over the summer. "When you fight corruption, you're fighting people with power and resources. They will fight back. They will try to destroy you. You need to be prepared for that."

"I am prepared."

"No, you're not. Not really. But you will be."

Now, standing in the senior hallway, Sasuke thought about those words.

I will be prepared. I'll be better than prepared. I'll be unbreakable.

Sakura found him at his locker, sliding up beside him with the ease of someone who'd been doing so for years.

"First day of senior year," she said, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

She gave him a look that said she knew he was lying but wouldn't push. "Well, I'm nervous. College applications start in a month. I need to finalize my personal statement, gather recommendation letters, make sure my test scores are sent..."

"You'll get into every school you apply to. You're third in the class with perfect extracurriculars and volunteer experience at the hospital."

"Third in the class because you and Shikamaru exist," Sakura pointed out. "And medical schools are competitive. I need everything to be perfect."

"It will be."

She studied him for a moment. "Are you really okay? You seem distant."

Sasuke closed his locker and turned to face her fully. "I'm processing. Everything from last spring. It's not... it doesn't go away just because time passes."

"I know. But you don't have to process alone. You know that, right?"

"I know." He reached out and took her hand, a gesture that still felt new enough to be slightly awkward, but also right. "Thank you. For everything."

"Always."

They walked to homeroom together, fingers loosely intertwined, and Sasuke felt a small measure of peace settle over him.

He had Sakura. He had his family. He had a future path he believed in.

That had to be enough.

Jiraiya-sensei was their homeroom teacher again—he'd specifically requested to keep this group for their final year.

"Welcome to senior year, brats," he announced as students filed in. "This is it. The big one. The year that determines the rest of your lives. No pressure."

Someone groaned.

"Oh, stop whining. You're seniors now—practically adults. Time to act like it." Jiraiya pulled out his clipboard. "Same rules as always, choose your own seats, but if you cause problems, I will rearrange you with extreme prejudice. Now, before we get into the boring administrative stuff, let's talk about what this year actually means."

He leaned against his desk, expression unusually serious.

"Senior year is when you make decisions that will follow you for decades. Where you go to college. What you study. Who you stay in touch with when you leave. These aren't small choices—they're the foundation of your adult lives."

Jiraiya's gaze swept across the classroom.

"Some of you already know exactly what you want. Others are still figuring it out. Both are fine. But what's not fine is coasting. What's not fine is making these decisions based on fear or convenience or what other people expect. You need to choose deliberately. Consciously. With awareness of what you're building."

Sasuke found himself actually listening. Jiraiya could be crude and inappropriate, but occasionally he dropped wisdom that landed.

"Also," Jiraiya continued, "some of you will drift apart this year. That's normal. You're going in different directions—different universities, different careers, different lives. Don't fight it. But also don't burn bridges unnecessarily. The people you know at eighteen might matter at thirty in ways you can't predict." His eyes drifted across the students in class. 

"Alright, enough philosophy. Let's talk about college applications."

At lunch, the friend group gathered at their usual table—a tradition that had held since freshman year.

Naruto was in his element, talking enthusiastically about his plans.

"I'm applying to six universities," he announced. "All with strong political science programs. My top choice is Konoha University—great connections for local politics. But I'm also looking at programs in the capital, just in case."

"That's a solid list," Shikamaru said, picking at his food. "I'm only applying to three. Too troublesome to do more."

"Where are you applying?" Ino asked.

"Tokyo University for economics, Konoha University as backup, and one safety school my mom insisted on."

"Tokyo University?" Sasuke looked up. "That's where Itachi is."

"I know. He said if I get in, he'd show me around, introduce me to people in the economics department." Shikamaru shrugged. "Plus it's the best program for what I want to do."

"What do you want to do?" Choji asked.

"Strategic consulting. Business analysis. Something that lets me think through complex problems without having to do too much physical labor."

Everyone laughed.

"What about you two?" Naruto asked, looking at Sasuke and Sakura. "Tokyo University, right?"

"Yes," Sakura confirmed. "I'm applying to their pre-med program. It's the best preparation for medical school in the country."

"And you, Sasuke?"

"Criminal justice program at Tokyo University. Same school as Itachi." Sasuke's voice was firm. "I'm following in my father's footsteps—investigative work, exposing corruption, holding powerful people accountable."

There was a beat of silence. Everyone at the table knew what had happened to Fugaku the previous spring. The attack. The recovery. The successful prosecution of the people responsible. It was impressive that Sasuke was still committed to that path, knowing firsthand how dangerous it could be.

"That's really admirable," Naruto said seriously. "After everything that happened... you're still willing to do that work. That takes guts."

Sasuke met his eyes. "Someone has to. And I'd rather it be someone who understands the stakes."

"You'll be great at it," Naruto said with genuine warmth. "And hey, when I'm mayor someday, I'll know I've got an honest investigator keeping everyone in line."

Sasuke managed a small smile. "That's the plan."

Across the table, Hinata watched this exchange with a complicated mix of emotions. Naruto was talking about the future—a future where he was mayor, where he had a career and goals and plans. A future that didn't include her in any specific way.

He'd rejected her confession at the end of junior year. Kindly, gently, but definitively.

"Hinata, you're a great person. But I don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry."

She'd been devastated. Had spent most of the summer in her room, crying, barely eating, withdrawing from everything.

Her father had been furious—"Pull yourself together. You're embarrassing the family."

Even Neji, as caustic as he can be to her, had been concerned—"Cousin, this isn't healthy. You need to talk to someone."

But she'd refused help. Refused to accept that it was over.

He just needs time. He'll realize. Once we're at university, once everything is different, he'll see me differently.

Twelve years. She'd been fixated on Naruto Uzumaki for twelve years—two-thirds of her life. Her entire identity had been built around this obsession. And now, watching him talk enthusiastically about his future—a future that clearly didn't include romantic feelings for her—the foundation was starting to crack.

But she couldn't let go. Letting go would mean admitting she'd wasted twelve years. That all the effort, all the planning had been for nothing. That she'd sacrificed her own development—friends, hobbies, identity—for someone who would never love her back.

That was unacceptable.

I just need a new plan. A better plan. Something that will make him see me.

Sasuke's final career counseling appointment was scheduled for Wednesday after school.

Jiraiya-sensei was waiting in his office, reading a book that he didn't bother hiding this time—some literary novel about moral ambiguity and difficult choices.

"Uchiha. Sit."

Sasuke sat.

"So. Strong across all subjects. Father is private investigator who was nearly killed doing his job. Brother is studying criminal justice at Tokyo University." Jiraiya set down his book. "And you want to follow in their footsteps despite knowing exactly how dangerous it is."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because truth matters. Justice matters. Holding powerful people accountable matters." Sasuke's voice was steady. "My father's case proved that—he exposed corruption that was costing the city millions, destroying lives, enabling criminals. And the people he exposed tried to kill him for it. That proves the work matters."

"It also proves the work is dangerous."

"I'm aware."

"Are you?" Jiraiya leaned forward. "Sasuke, you're seventeen. You've seen one case go bad—terrifyingly bad, granted—but it's still just one data point. You're making life decisions based on limited information and a lot of emotional response to trauma."

"This isn't emotional response—"

"It absolutely is. And that's not necessarily bad. Emotions can drive meaningful work. But you need to be honest with yourself about what's motivating you."

Sasuke was quiet for a moment. "You think I'm doing this out of anger? Revenge?"

"I think you're doing it out of a combination of genuine idealism, family legacy, and unprocessed trauma from watching your father nearly die." Jiraiya's tone was matter-of-fact, not unkind. "All of which are valid motivations. But you need to acknowledge the trauma part, or it'll sabotage you later."

"I've been talking to the school counselor. Processing what happened."

"Good. Keep doing that. Because this work—investigative journalism, law enforcement, anti-corruption advocacy, whatever specific form it takes—it'll break you if you're not psychologically prepared." Jiraiya pulled out a form. "That said, your career path is clear. Tokyo University has an excellent criminal justice program. Your grades and test scores will get you in easily. You'll have your brother there in Tokyo for support and mentorship. It's a solid plan."

"Then why did you spend several minutes questioning my motivations?"

"Because I care about my students, and I don't want to see you self-destruct in pursuit of something that might be more about your father than about you." Jiraiya signed the form and handed it over. "But I think you'll be fine. You're more self-aware than most eighteen-year-olds. You have a good support system. And you're smart enough to know when you're in over your head."

"Thank you, Sensei."

"Don't thank me yet. You might hate me in ten years when you're exhausted and disillusioned and wondering why you chose such a difficult path."

"Or I might thank you for supporting me when it mattered."

Jiraiya smiled. "Get out of my office, Uchiha. Send in Haruno next."

At 8 pm, Sasuke's laptop chimed with Itachi's regular video call.

His brother looked tired—final year of university was clearly demanding—but pleased to see him.

"Otouto. How was the first week?"

"Fine. Career counseling was interesting. Jiraiya-sensei spent most of it questioning whether I was choosing this path for the right reasons."

"That's a fair question."

"You too?"

"I'm your brother. I'm supposed to question your life choices." Itachi's tone was light, but his eyes were serious. "But honestly, Sasuke, I think you're making the right choice for the right reasons. You saw injustice, you saw corruption, you saw someone nearly die trying to expose it, and you decided that mattered enough to dedicate your life to fighting it. That's noble."

"Jiraiya-sensei thinks it's trauma response."

"It can be both. Noble and trauma response aren't mutually exclusive." Itachi leaned closer to the camera. "The important thing is that you're aware of your motivations. That you're processing the trauma. That you're making an informed choice rather than a reactive one."

"I am."

"Then I support you completely. And I'm excited to have you at Tokyo next year. We can work together, learn from each other, build something meaningful."

Sasuke felt warmth in his chest. "I'd like that."

"How's Sakura? She applying to Tokyo University too?"

"Yes. Pre-med program."

"So you'll be in the same city. That's good. Long-distance relationships are hard."

"We're not worried about it. We've been friends for years before we were dating. The foundation is solid."

"Good. Hold onto that," Itachi paused, "How's Father? Really?"

"Better. Physically, he's mostly recovered. Mentally... he's different. Harder. More cautious. But also more determined."

"That attack changed him."

"It changed all of us."

"Yes." Itachi's expression was complicated. "Sasuke, I need to tell you something. I've been doing my own investigation into who orchestrated the attack on Father."

"What? Why?"

"Because the people who were prosecuted weren't the real architects. They were hired muscle. Someone with resources and connections planned that attack, and I want to know who."

"Have you found anything?"

"Not yet. But I'm working on it." Itachi's voice was firm. "Father built a case that destroyed powerful people. Those people have allies, families, business partners. Someone out there wants revenge, or wants to ensure Father doesn't investigate them next. I'm going to find out who."

"That's dangerous."

"So is investigative work in general. We're all taking risks, Sasuke. The question is whether the risks serve a purpose that matters."

They talked for another twenty minutes about less serious topics—Itachi's classes, mutual friends, their mother's garden—before signing off.

But Sasuke was left with an uneasy feeling. His brother was investigating something dangerous. His father was still a target.Their family was still in the crosshairs of powerful enemies. And next year, Sasuke would be joining them in this fight. The weight of it settled on his shoulders. But he didn't regret his choice. This was the right path.

Even if it was dangerous.

Even if it cost him.

This mattered.

Meanwhile, another relationship in their friend group was reaching a significant milestone.

Neji Hyuuga and Tenten had been together since freshman year—three years of steady, healthy partnership built on mutual respect, shared values, and genuine affection. They were both planning to attend Tokyo University—Neji for business and law and Tenten for social work and advocacy.

They'd already begun apartment hunting in Tokyo for after they started university.

And now, at age eighteen, Neji was planning to propose.

"You're insane," Sasuke said when Neji told him. "We're eighteen. We haven't even started university yet."

"We've been together for three years. We're going to the same university. We have the same life goals. We're compatible in every meaningful way." Neji's voice was calm, certain. "Why wait when we're already sure?"

"Because we're eighteen?"

"Age is just a number. Maturity and compatibility matter more."

Sasuke had to admit that Neji and Tenten were probably the most mature couple in their entire friend group. They communicated well. They supported each other's goals. They handled conflict like adults rather than teenagers. If anyone could make an early marriage work, it was them.

"Have you talked to Tenten about this?" Sasuke asked.

"Not explicitly. But we've discussed the future. She knows my timeline. She's expecting this."

"That's not the same as proposing."

"I know. That's why I'm doing it properly." Neji pulled out a small box. "My mother's ring. She gave it to me before she passed. She wanted me to give it to someone who mattered. Someone who would appreciate the meaning behind it."

The ring was beautiful—simple, elegant, clearly valuable but not ostentatious.

For a moment, Neji looked uncertain. "What if she says it's too soon? What if she wants to wait?"

"Then you wait. But I think she'll say yes," Sasuke responded, wanted to reassure his friend. 

"Why?"

"Because she looks at you the way Sakura looks at me. Like you're the most important person in the room. Like life makes sense when you're together. That's not something you walk away from just because of timing."

Neji smiled—rare and genuine. "Thank you, Sasuke."

"When are you doing it?"

"This weekend. There's a place we used to go—a garden overlook with a view of the city. I'm taking her there Saturday evening."

"Good luck."

"I don't think I'll need it. But thank you."

Neji took Tenten to their spot—a hilltop garden that overlooked Nagi, where they'd gone countless times over the years to talk, to plan, to simply exist together in comfortable silence. The sun was setting, casting everything in gold and pink light.

"This is nice," Tenten said, leaning against the railing. "We haven't been here in a while."

"I know. I wanted to come back. This place is important to us."

"It is." She turned to look at him. "You're being sentimental. That's unusual."

"I have reason to be."

Neji took a breath, then got down on one knee.

Tenten's eyes widened. "Neji—"

"Tenten, I've loved you for a long time. You've been my partner, my conscience, my reason for fighting when things got hard. You make me better. You make me want to be better." He opened the ring box. "I know we're young. I know people will say we should wait. But I don't want to wait. I want to build a life with you. I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?"

Tenten had tears streaming down her face.

"Yes. Yes, of course yes."

He slipped the ring onto her finger, and she pulled him up into a kiss—deep and emotional and full of promise.

"We're really doing this," she said when they broke apart. "Getting engaged at eighteen."

"Is that okay?"

"It's perfect. It's us." She laughed, wiping her eyes. "Our parents are going to freak out."

"Probably. But they'll accept it eventually."

"When do you want to get married?"

"During university. Maybe second year? That gives us time to plan, to save money, to do it properly."

When Neji and Tenten showed up at school Monday with a ring on Tenten's finger, their friend group lost their minds.

"You're ENGAGED?!" Ino shrieked.

"At eighteen?!" Sakura added.

"That's..." Naruto paused. "Actually, that's kind of awesome. Congratulations!"

The group swarmed them with hugs, questions, excitement.

"When's the wedding?"

"Have you told your parents?"

"Can I be a bridesmaid?!"

"Are you sure you're not too young?"

Neji and Tenten fielded questions with patience and happiness.

"We're sure. We've been together for six years. This is right for us."

"The wedding will be during university, probably sophomore year."

"Yes, our parents know. They're... adjusting to the idea."

"And yes, you can all be in the wedding party."

Sasuke watched the chaos with a mixture of happiness for his friends and contemplation. They were so sure. So confident in their decision. He thought about his relationship with Sakura. They'd been together less than a year, but the foundation went back much longer. Could he see himself proposing someday? Marrying her?

Yes.

Not yet—they were too young, had too much to figure out first.

But someday.

When they'd finished university. When their careers were established. When they'd built lives they could combine.

He caught Sakura's eye across the crowd, and she smiled at him—warm and knowing and full of future promise.

Someday, he thought. But not yet.

Hinata stood slightly apart from the celebration, watching everyone congratulate Neji and Tenten.

Her cousin was engaged. At eighteen. To someone he'd been dating for three years.

Three years.

Hinata had been in love with Naruto for twelve years and had nothing to show for it except rejection and heartbreak.

It's not fair.

The thought was bitter, poisonous.

Why do they get to be happy? Why does everyone else get what they want while I get nothing?

She watched Naruto congratulate Neji, genuinely happy for his friend.

He's never looked at me like that. Like I'm worth celebrating. Like I matter.

The resentment was growing, spreading like rot through her psyche.

She wanted to be happy for Neji. He was her cousin.

But all she could feel was bitter jealousy.

Everyone gets their happy ending except me.

It's not fair.

It's not FAIR.

Chapter Text

Age 18, Senior Year Continued

Winter break came and went—a brief respite filled with college application stress, family gatherings, and the looming awareness that this was the last time they'd all be together in Nagi as high school students. When second semester began in January, there was a palpable shift in energy. This was it. The final stretch. In six months, they'd graduate and scatter to different universities, different cities, different futures.

Some friendships would survive the distance. Others wouldn't.

No one could predict which would be which.

The first wave of early admission results came in mid-January.

Sasuke received his acceptance to Tokyo University's criminal justice program on a Thursday afternoon—a thick envelope that his mother brought home with trembling hands and tears in her eyes.

"I'm so proud of you," Mikoto said, hugging him tightly. "Your father will be thrilled."

Fugaku was at a doctor's appointment—still dealing with lingering health issues from the attack—but when he came home and heard the news, his expression was one of pure pride.

"Well done, Sasuke. Itachi will be happy to have you there."

"Thank you, Father."

"Have you told Sakura yet?"

"Not yet. She's still waiting on her results."

"She'll get in. That girl is exceptional."

Sasuke called Itachi immediately after dinner.

"Congratulations, otouto!" Itachi's voice was warm through the phone. "I knew you'd get in, but it's still exciting to have it confirmed."

"Thank you. I'm... relieved. And nervous."

"That's normal. University is a big transition. But you'll do well. And I'll be there to help you navigate everything."

"What about your investigation? Into the attack on Father?"

Itachi's tone shifted slightly. "Still working on it. I've found some leads, but nothing concrete yet. I'll tell you more when I have something solid."

"Be careful."

"Always." A pause. "Sasuke, when you get here next year, I want to bring you in on the investigation. You have good instincts, and I could use the help. Interested?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Good. We'll talk more about it when you arrive."

After the call, Sasuke texted Sakura, Got my acceptance. Tokyo U. You?

Her response came immediately, CONGRATULATIONS!!! I'm still waiting. Should hear back next week. Fingers crossed!

You'll get in.

I hope so. Would be nice to know we're going to the same place.

We are. I'm sure of it.

Sakura's acceptance letter arrived on a Tuesday.

She opened it in front of her parents at the dinner table, hands shaking so badly she could barely read the first line.

"Congratulations! We are pleased to offer you admission to Tokyo University's Pre-Medical Program..."

She burst into tears.

Her mother hugged her, crying too. Her father looked like he might cry but was holding it together through sheer force of will.

"I'm so proud of you," her mother said. "Medical school. You're really doing it."

"I got in," Sakura said, disbelieving. "I actually got in."

She called Sasuke immediately.

"I got in! Sasuke, I got in!"

His relief was palpable even through the phone. "I told you. Congratulations."

"We're going to Tokyo together!"

"We are."

"This is really happening."

"It is."

After she hung up with Sasuke, Sakura sat in her room, staring at the acceptance letter, and let herself feel the full weight of it.

She was going to Tokyo University.

She was going to study medicine.

She was going to build the life she'd been dreaming about since she was a child.

And she was going to do it with Sasuke beside her.

This is everything I wanted.

Out of the six schools he applied to, Naruto got accepted into three.

His top choice—Konoha University—accepted him with a partial scholarship based on his student council leadership and community service.

"This is perfect!" he announced at lunch. "KU has great political connections in the city. I can work part time with local government, build relationships, start working toward my mayor goal right away!"

"That's amazing, Naruto," Sakura said genuinely. "Congratulations."

"Thanks! I'm so excited. This is really happening, I'm going to become mayor someday. I can feel it." Naruto's optimism was contagious, his belief in his own future unshakeable.

"When you're mayor, I'll be the investigator keeping you honest," Sasuke said.

"Deal. Uzumaki administration will be the cleanest in history."

They shook on it, smiling.

Hinata got into multiple universities—her grades were decent, her family name carried weight, and her applications were well-crafted with significant help from tutors her father had hired. But she didn't choose based on program quality or career goals. She chose based on proximity to Naruto. Naruto would be at Konoha University.

Hinata applied to and was accepted to Konoha Women's College—a small liberal arts school literally three blocks from KU. When she announced this to the friend group, there was a brief, uncomfortable pause.

"That's great ...," Sakura said carefully. "What will you study?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe education? Or psychology?"

Or I'll choose whatever classes have joint events with KU. Whatever lets me be near Naruto.

Tenten, sitting beside Neji, caught Sakura's eye with a concerned look. Everyone at the table could see what Hinata was doing. Everyone except Naruto, who said, "Hey, that's cool! We'll be in the same city! We can hang out sometimes."

"Yes!" Hinata's face lit up. "We can study together! And I could help with your student government campaigns if you run for anything!"

"That'd be awesome! Thanks, Hinata!"

Sakura felt her stomach twist.

The Hyuuga family held a formal clan meeting in early March to discuss business matters—standard quarterly review of Hyuuga Corporation finances, labor situations, upcoming projects.

Neji, as the eldest son of the branch family, was required to attend.

He hated these meetings. They epitomized everything wrong with the family system—the class divisions between main and branch families, the exploitation of workers, the prioritization of profit over people. But he attended because he needed to understand the system he intended to dismantle. Hinata, as the eldest daughter of the main branch, was also required to attend, though she usually sat silently and contributed nothing.

Today's meeting was particularly tense.

"The construction workers are threatening to strike again," one of the executives reported. "They're demanding higher wages, better safety standards, health insurance."

"Absolutely not," Hinata's father said. "We've already negotiated. These demands are unreasonable."

"They're not unreasonable," Neji said quietly. "They're asking for basic protections that should be standard."

Hiashi Hyuuga turned cold eyes on his nephew. "You're still young. You don't understand the economics."

"I understand that people are getting hurt on our construction sites. I understand that workers can't afford medical care when they're injured. I understand that we're making millions while they're struggling to survive."

"This is not your concern."

"It's absolutely my concern. I'm part of this family. These decisions are made in my name."

"Neji." His father, Hizashi's voice was warning. "Not here."

"Where then? When? How long are we supposed to pretend this is acceptable?"

The tension in the room was palpable.

Finally, Hiashi said, "This discussion is over. The answer is no. If the workers strike, we'll replace them."

Neji stood abruptly and left the room.

Hinata watched him go, feeling a complicated mix of emotion but mostly consisted of fear of the family's reaction and a growing sense that something bad was building.

After the meeting ended, Neji waited in the parking structure for his ride—Tenten was picking him up, having dropped him off earlier.

Hinata found him there, looking troubled.

"Neji-nii-san," she said quietly. "Are you okay?"

"No. But I'll survive." He looked at her. "How do you tolerate these meetings? Listening to them talk about workers like they're disposable?"

"I... I don't really pay attention. I just wait for it to be over."

"Maybe you should pay attention. You're part of this family too. You have power—you could use it to make changes."

"I don't have power. I'm just—"

"You're the eldest daughter of the main family. You have more power than you think." Neji's voice was urgent. "Hinata, things are going to change. The workers are organizing. There's going to be a confrontation. And when that happens, the family is going to have to choose—continue exploiting people, or actually change."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to stand with the workers. Help them organize. Make sure their voices are heard."

"That's dangerous. Father will—"

"I don't care what Uncle does. This is right."

Tenten's car pulled up then, and Neji started toward it. He got in the car and left. Hinata stood in the parking structure, feeling oddly hollow. Her cousin was so sure of what was right. She wished she had that kind of certainty about anything in her life. But all she had was her obsession with Naruto. And the growing fear that it was never going to be enough.

The senior prom was scheduled for late April—a final celebration before graduation.

Sasuke had been dreading it.

"I don't dance. I don't do formal events. The entire concept of prom is pointless."

"It's a memory," Sakura argued. "Something we'll look back on. And I want to go."

"You could go with Ino."

"I could. But I want to go with my boyfriend." She gave him a pointed look. "Please? For me?"

Sasuke sighed. "Fine. But I'm not dancing."

"We'll see about that."

When prom night arrived, Sasuke had to admit that Sakura looked stunning. She wore a floor-length dress in deep red, her pink hair styled in elegant waves. She'd put effort into her makeup, and the effect was striking.

"You look beautiful," he said when he picked her up.

"You clean up pretty well yourself."

Sasuke was in a formal black suit that his mother had insisted on buying specifically for this occasion. The prom was held in the school gymnasium, transformed with decorations and lights into something almost unrecognizable. The friend group gathered near one of the refreshment tables, taking photos, laughing, enjoying the moment. Neji and Tenten looked like they'd stepped out of a magazine—perfectly coordinated, effortlessly elegant. Naruto had come stag, cheerfully unbothered by his lack of a date. "More fun this way! I can dance with everyone!"

Hinata had also come alone, watching Naruto from across the room, working up the courage to ask him to dance.

"You should just ask him," Tenten said gently, noticing the other girl's longing looks.

"I... I can't. He'll say no."

"Then you'll know. Isn't that better than wondering?"

But Hinata didn't ask. She couldn't handle another rejection. Instead, she watched as Naruto danced with various friends, laughing, having fun, never once looking in her direction.

Meanwhile, Sasuke had been dragged onto the dance floor by Sakura.

"I told you I don't dance."

"You're doing fine. Just sway. It's not complicated."

"This is ridiculous."

"This is romantic. There's a difference."

They swayed to the slow song, Sakura's head resting on Sasuke's shoulder, and despite his protests, he found himself relaxing into the moment.

"Thank you," Sakura said quietly. "For coming. For being here. For everything."

"You're welcome."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

It was the kind of simple, perfect moment that they'd remember years later. 

Two weeks before graduation, the Hyuuga Corporation workers made good on their threat. They went on strike. Hundreds of construction workers walked off job sites across the city, picketing with signs demanding better wages, safety standards, and health insurance. It was front-page news. And Neji was right in the middle of it. He'd been helping the workers organize for months—connecting them with labor lawyers, helping them understand their rights, teaching them how to negotiate collectively. Tenten had been beside him the whole time, documenting everything, providing support.

The Hyuuga family was furious.

"You're a disgrace," Hiashi told Neji in a family confrontation. "You're helping workers attack your own family."

"I'm helping workers demand basic human rights. If that's an attack on the family, then the family deserves to be attacked."

"You're young and idealistic. You don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly. I understand that we're making millions while people can't afford to see a doctor. I understand that workers are getting injured on our sites because we won't pay for proper safety equipment. I understand that we're exploiting people and calling it business."

"Get out."

"Gladly."

Neji left the Hyuuga compound that day and didn't return.

He moved in with Tenten's family temporarily, with plans to get their own apartment after graduation.

The strike continued for two weeks.

Finally, the Hyuuga Corporation agreed to negotiate. A settlement was reached—not everything the workers wanted, but significant improvements in wages and safety standards.It was a victory. Neji had helped make it happen. But he had made an enemy out of his family in the process.

Graduation day arrived on a perfect May afternoon—sunny, warm, full of promise and possibility. The entire senior class gathered in the auditorium, wearing caps and gowns, ready to receive their diplomas and officially end their high school careers. Sasuke sat between Sakura and Naruto, listening to the various speeches.  When it was time to receive diplomas, they went in alphabetical order until they reached the H's.

"Haruno Sakura."

Applause. Sakura crossed the stage with confidence, shook hands, received her diploma.

"Hyuuga Hinata."

Quieter applause. Hinata crossed nervously, barely making eye contact.

"Hyuuga Neji."

Louder applause—many people knew about his labor activism and respected it. He crossed with pride. More students names were read out. Then came the U's. 

"Uchiha Sasuke."

Significant applause. Everyone knew his father's story. He crossed the stage quickly, wanting to get it over with.

"Uzumaki Naruto."

Enthusiastic applause and several cheers. Naruto had been student council president, was genuinely well-liked. He crossed with a huge grin, waving to the crowd. After all the diplomas were distributed, the principal said, "Congratulations, Class of 2025. You are now graduates!"

Caps were thrown in the air and cheers erupted. They were done and high school was over. The future was beginning.

That evening, someone's whose parents house was large and whose supervision was minimal hosted a graduation party for the senior class. It was loud, chaotic, filled with people celebrating and saying goodbyes and making promises to keep in touch that most of them wouldn't keep. Sasuke found it overwhelming and spent most of the time outside on the deck with Sakura.

"Can you believe we actually graduated?" Sakura said, looking up at the stars.

"Yes. We worked hard for it."

"Three months until we move to Tokyo."

"Three months."

"Are you nervous?"

"A little. Mostly excited."

"Me too." She leaned against him. "We're really doing this. Building a life together."

"We are."

Inside, Naruto was holding court with a large group, telling stories, making people laugh, being the social center of gravity he'd always been. And Hinata was watching from the corner, as she'd done for twelve years.

This is the last time we'll all be together like this, she thought. After summer, everyone scatters. Naruto goes to KU. I go to KWC. Sasuke and Sakura go to Tokyo. Neji and Tenten will also go to Tokyo.

Everything changes.

I'm running out of time.

The desperation was building to critical levels. She'd been rejected. She would be following him to the same city for university. And she still had nothing to show for it except heartbreak.

Something has to change. Something has to happen.

The day after graduation, Hinata called Neji.

"Can we talk? Just the two of us?"

"Of course. Meet me at the park?"

They met at a neutral location—a park bench overlooking a pond.

"What's wrong, Hinata?" Neji asked.

"I... I don't know what I'm doing. With my life. With anything."

"What do you mean?"

"You and Tenten—you're engaged, you're moving to Tokyo, you have plans and goals and you know what you're doing. Sasuke and Sakura have their whole future mapped out. Naruto knows exactly what he wants." Her voice broke. "And I have nothing. No plan, no passion, no direction. Just... emptiness." Hinata looked at him with desperate eyes. "I've spent my entire life focused on one thing. One person. And it didn't work. He doesn't love me. He never will. And without that... who am I?"

Neji was quiet for a long moment.

"Hinata, I'm going to say something you don't want to hear, but you need to hear it."

"What?"

"You need professional help. What you're describing—building your entire identity around another person, feeling empty without them—that's not healthy. That's not normal."

"I'm not crazy—"

"I didn't say you were crazy. I said you need help. There's a difference," Neji's voice was firm, "Cousin, you're not going to find happiness by continuing to fixate on Naruto. You need to build an identity separate from him. Find out who Hinata is when she's not thinking about Naruto Uzumaki."

"I don't know how."

"Start with therapy. Start with talking to someone who can help you process these feelings and develop healthier patterns." 

"I... I'll think about it."

It was the best Neji could get.

"Tenten and I are moving to Tokyo in two months," he said. "But if you need anything you can contact me. Understand?"

"I understand. Thank you, Neji-nii-san."

They parted ways.

Neji went home to Tenten, to wedding planning, to preparing for their move to Tokyo and the start of their university life.

Hinata went home to her empty room and her obsessive thoughts.

She didn't seek therapy.

She didn't take Neji's advice.

Instead, she started planning.

If I can't make Naruto love me through persistence, maybe I need a different approach.

Maybe I need to make myself indispensable. Make him need me.

Make him see that I'm the only one who really understands him, who really cares about him.

Whatever it takes.

Chapter Text

Age 18-19, Summer

Sasuke and Sakura spent the first two weeks of June traveling to Tokyo to apartment hunt.

They'd decided to live near campus but not together—both sets of parents had put their foot down on that point.

"You're eighteen and not married," Mikoto had said firmly. "Separate apartments."

"We're going to be spending all our time together anyway," Sasuke had pointed out.

"Then separate apartments won't be a problem."

So they found two apartments in the same building—Sasuke on the fourth floor, Sakura on the third. Close enough to be convenient, separate enough to satisfy parental concerns.

Itachi helped them with the search, offering advice on neighborhoods and buildings.

"This area is good," he said, showing them a building near campus. "Safe, convenient, lots of other students. And the landlord is reasonable."

"How do you know?" Sakura asked.

"I lived here my first year. Good experience."

They signed leases for September 1st move-in.

"This is really happening," Sakura said as they left the leasing office. "We're moving to Tokyo in two months."

"Nervous?" Sasuke asked.

"Excited. A little scared. But mostly excited."

"Me too."

They spent the rest of the day exploring the neighborhood—finding grocery stores, cafes, the best route to campus, places they'd be spending the next four years. It felt surreal and wonderful and terrifying all at once.

"Thank you," Sakura said as they sat in a small café near their future apartments.

"For what?"

"For wanting to build this life with me. For choosing me."

Sasuke took her hand across the table. "There was never really a choice. It's always been you."

"That's the most romantic thing you've ever said."

"Don't expect it to happen often."

She laughed. "I know. That's what makes it special."

Neji and Tenten had set their wedding date for the following spring—March, during university spring break.

They were planning something small and intimate, something the include only immediate family and friends. Maybe sixty people total.

"I don't want a big spectacle," Tenten said as they worked through the guest list. "Just the people who actually matter to us."

"Agreed. Though my family is going to be difficult about it."

"Because you're not inviting the entire Hyuuga clan?"

"Exactly."

After the labor strike and Neji's very public stance against family exploitation, relations with the Hyuuga main family were... strained.

Hiashi had made it clear that Neji was no longer welcome at family events unless he apologized and "corrected his behavior."

Neji had refused.

"I'm not apologizing for standing up for workers' rights. If that makes me unwelcome in the family, so be it."

It had created a rift that would never fully heal.

But Neji and Tenten were building their own family now. Their own traditions. Their own values.

"My parents love you," Tenten said. "You're more family to them than most of the Hyuugas anyway."

"Your parents are wonderful. I'm lucky."

"We're lucky."

They worked on wedding plans throughout June. They selected the small garden space near Tenten's family home as the venue, chose deep red and gold for their wedding colors, and planned other details for their ceremony.

Naruto had secured a part time job with the Nagi City Council—unpaid, but great experience for someone interested in local politics.

He spent his days attending council meetings, helping with constituent services, learning how local government actually functioned. He was fascinated by all of it.

"It's so cool," he told Sasuke one evening when they met for ramen. "Like, I'm seeing how decisions actually get made. How budgets work. How you balance different groups' needs. It's exactly what I want to do."

"You're good at it," Sasuke said. "The council members seem to really like you."

"Because I actually listen to people. So many politicians just talk at people instead of listening. I don't want to be like that."

"That's what will make you a good mayor someday. You actually care."

"Of course I care. That's the whole point." Naruto's expression was earnest, "I want to make things better for people. Help the city run smoothly. Make sure everyone has a voice. That's what public service should be about."

Sasuke looked at his best friend—so full of idealism and genuine desire to help—and felt a surge of pride.

This is who he is. This is who he'll always be. Hopefully he will be someone who fights for what's right, who stands up for people, who chooses integrity over convenience.

The Naruto sitting across from him, enthusiastically describing constituent complaints about potholes, was real. Only time would tell if he would survive contact with actual political pressure. What he would do when it mattered, when his career was on the line, when choosing integrity would cost him—

But that was still in the future.

For now, he was still the idealistic eighteen year old who believed he could change the world through good intentions and hard work.

While everyone else was busy with part time jobs, wedding planning, moving preparations, and building their futures—Hinata was alone. Her parents had signed her up for summer volunteer work, something for her college applications, even though she'd already been accepted. She went through the motions. It was meaningless busywork, and she hated it. But what she hated more was the isolation.

All the people from her class were moving forward with their lives. And she was stuck.

She tried texting Naruto a few times: 

"How's your internship going?"

"Want to get coffee sometime?"

"I found this article about local politics I thought you'd like."

His responses were friendly but brief:

"It's great! Super busy though."

"Maybe next week? Schedule is packed."

"Thanks! Will check it out when I have time."

Never hostile. Never mean. Just distant. Polite but uninvested. The way you text an acquaintance, not someone you're close to. And certainly not someone you have romantic feelings for. Hinata would stare at her phone for hours, re-reading their brief exchanges, trying to find hidden meaning in his words.

He said "maybe next week"—that means he wants to see me, he's just busy.

He said he'd read the article—that means he values my opinion.

He used an exclamation point—that means he's excited to talk to me.

It was delusional. And somewhere deep down, she knew it. But accepting reality would mean accepting that twelve years of her life had been wasted on someone who would never love her back. That was unacceptable. So she clung to delusion.

When we're at university, things will be different. We'll be in the same city. I'll have more opportunities to be around him. To show him who I really am. To make him see me.

I just need to be patient. Strategic. Careful.

I can make this work.

I have to.

In mid-July, the friend group organized one last gathering before everyone scattered—a weekend camping trip to a lake about two hours outside Nagi. It was Kiba's idea, and everyone agreed it was perfect. One final hurrah before everything changed. They rented cabins at a campground, brought entirely too much food, and spent three days swimming, hiking, sitting around campfires, and pretending the future wasn't looming.

On the first night, sitting around the fire, Naruto proposed a toast.

"To all of us! We've been friends since elementary school. We've been through so much together. And even though we're all going different directions now—different universities, different cities—we're still family. That doesn't change."

"To family," they all echoed, raising their drinks.

Sasuke looked around the circle—at Naruto's bright smile, at Sakura's warm expression, at Neji and Tenten holding hands, at all the people who'd been part of his life for so long.

This is good. This matters. These connections are real.

The next day, while most of the group was out on the lake in rented boats, Sasuke and Neji ended up hiking together. 

"How are you feeling about everything?" Neji asked as they climbed the trail. "Moving to Tokyo, starting university, all of it?"

"Confident. Nervous. Excited. All of it." Sasuke paused. "What about you? Between getting married, starting university, and being estranged from your family—that's a lot."

"It is. But I'm happy. Genuinely happy." Neji's voice was firm. "Everything I'm doing feels right. Fighting the family's exploitation felt right. Proposing to Tenten felt right. Moving forward with our life together feels right. Even when it's hard, it feels purposeful."

"That's good. That's important."

"What about you and Sakura? You two seem solid."

"We are. She's..." Sasuke struggled to articulate. "She's my person. The one who makes sense when nothing else does."

"I know the feeling." Neji smiled. "Tenten is the same for me."

They hiked in comfortable silence for a while.

"Sasuke, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"If someone you knew was in trouble, what would you do?"

Sasuke stopped walking. "What do you mean?"

"Its my cousin...she's not...okay. She hasn't been okay for a long time. And I'm worried that when we all leave for university, she's going to spiral."

"Have you talked to her?"

"I've tried. I suggested therapy. She said she'd think about it but I don't think she will." Neji's expression was troubled. "Her entire identity is wrapped up in Naruto. And he doesn't feel the same way. That's not going to magically change at university. If anything, it might get worse."

"What do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know. Keep an eye on her, maybe? Or keep an eye on Naruto? Make sure she's not... I don't know, doing something concerning?"

"Naruto doesn't even notice her fixation. He thinks they're just friends."

"I know. Which is part of the problem." Neji sighed. "Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe she'll get to university, make new friends, develop new interests, and move on naturally."

"But you don't think so."

"No. I think this is going to get worse before it gets better."

Sasuke didn't have a response to that.

Because deep down, he agreed.

While the boys were hiking, Sakura, Tenten, Ino, and Hinata ended up in one of the cabins, talking about the future.

"I'm so excited for you and Neji," Ino said to Tenten. "A spring wedding! It's going to be beautiful!"

"Thanks. I'm excited too. Also terrified."

"Terrified?" Sakura asked.

"We're nineteen. Getting married at nineteen. Sometimes I wake up and think 'what are we doing?'" Tenten laughed. "But then I remember it's Neji, and I calm down. If I'm going to make a crazy decision, at least I'm making it with the right person."

"That's romantic," Ino said. "Terrifying but romantic."

"What about you?" Tenten looked at Sakura. "Think you'll get married to Sasuke someday?"

"Maybe," Sakura said carefully. "We haven't talked about it seriously. We're still so young."

"But you could see it? Eventually?"

"Yes. Definitely. But not for a while. We need to finish university first. Get established in our careers. Make sure we can support ourselves independently before we combine our lives."

"That's very practical."

"Someone has to be. Sasuke is great at many things, but long-term practical planning isn't one of them."

They all laughed.

Hinata sat slightly apart, listening but not really participating. She couldn't talk about her future with Naruto because she didn't have one. She couldn't talk about marriage because he'd never proposed. She couldn't talk about plans because all her plans were built on delusion.

"What about you, Hinata?" Ino asked, noticing her silence. "Any plans? Goals? Boys you're interested in?"

"I... I'm focusing on school. Getting settled at KWC."

"You're going to the same city as Naruto, right? Konoha?"

"Yes."

"That's good! You two are close, you can hang out."

Hinata's face lit up. "Yes! I'm hoping we can study together, or go to events, or—"

"Hinata," Tenten interrupted gently. "You know Naruto doesn't... I mean, you and he are friends, but..."

"But what?"

"But you need to be realistic about expectations. He's going to be busy with school and his political stuff. He probably won't have a lot of free time."

"I know. But I can help! I can support his goals, be there when he needs—"

"Hinata." Sakura's voice was kind but firm. "You need to build your own life. Your own friends, your own interests, your own goals. You can't make your happiness dependent on someone else—even someone you care about."

"I have my own life—"

"Are you sure?" Ino asked bluntly. "What are your hobbies? What do you do for fun? What are you passionate about besides Naruto?"

Silence. Hinata couldn't answer because the truth was that she had nothing. She had no hobbies. No passions. No interests that weren't related to Naruto. For years, her entire existence had revolved around him.

"I... I need to use the bathroom." Hinata stood abruptly and left the cabin.

The three remaining girls exchanged worried looks.

"That came across a bit strong, Ino," Tenten said.

"Someone needed to say it. She's going to hurt herself if she keeps this up."

"I know, but—"

"No buts. She's built her entire identity around a boy who doesn't love her back. That's not healthy. That's not sustainable. And when it finally breaks—because it will break—it's going to destroy her."

Sakura felt a chill run down her spine. Because Ino was right. This wasn't going to end well.

On the final night of the camping trip, someone had brought fireworks. They set them off over the lake—illegal, probably, but no one cared. The group gathered on the shore, watching colors explode against the dark sky. Sasuke stood with Sakura, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her waist. 

"This is perfect," Sakura murmured. "I want to remember this forever."

"We will," Sasuke said.

The last month before university was a blur of preparations. Packing. Shopping for dorm essentials. Final goodbyes. Sasuke worked with his father as much as possible, learning everything he could before leaving.

"You'll do well at Tokyo University," Fugaku said one evening as they reviewed case files. "Itachi says the program is excellent."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Are you still planning to join Itachi's investigation? Into who orchestrated my attack?"

"Yes. If he'll have me."

Fugaku was quiet for a long moment. "Be careful, Sasuke. Whoever planned that attack—they're still out there. They're still dangerous. And if they think you're getting close to the truth—"

"I'll be careful. I promise."

"Good." Fugaku placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm proud of you. Everything you've become. Everything you're going to do."

"Thank you, Father."

Sakura spent her last week in Nagi saying goodbye to family, friends, and familiar places.

Her parents were emotional but proud.

"We're so happy for you," her mother said, crying. "Medical school. Tokyo University. Everything you've worked for."

"I'm going to miss you so much," Sakura said, hugging her tightly.

"We'll visit. And you'll come home for holidays. It's not goodbye forever."

"I know. But it's still hard."

The night before they left for Tokyo, Sakura and Sasuke met at their spot in the local park.  "Last night in Nagi," Sakura said, looking out over the city lights.

"For a while, anyway."

"Are you sad? Leaving?"

"A little. Mostly excited." Sasuke took her hand. "Whatever happens in Tokyo—we're doing it together."

"Together," Sakura agreed.

They stood there for a long time, holding hands, looking at the city they were leaving behind, preparing for the future that awaited them.

Moving day arrived—carefully coordinated chaos as multiple families helped their children relocate to Tokyo. The Uchihas drove Sasuke and a car full of his belongings. The Harunos did the same for Sakura. They'd planned to arrive at their apartment building at the same time, and through miraculous timing, they did. Itachi was there to help, along with a few of his university alumni friends.

"Welcome to Tokyo," Itachi said, grinning. "Your new life officially starts now."

Moving in took most of the day—carrying boxes up stairs, arranging furniture, unpacking essentials.

By evening, both apartments were functional if not fully decorated. Sasuke stood in his new apartment—small, basic, but his—and felt the weight of it. He was really doing this. Leaving home. Starting university. Building a future. There was a knock on his door. Sakura stood there, smiling. "Want to get dinner? Explore the neighborhood?"

"Yes."

They walked through their new neighborhood as the sun set, finding a small ramen shop, talking about classes that started in two days, about the future, about everything and nothing.

"This is really happening," Sakura said.

"It is."

"Are you happy?"

Sasuke looked at her—at this person who'd been by his side for so long, who'd chosen to build a life with him, who made everything better just by existing.

"Yes. I'm happy."

And for that moment, in that ramen shop in Tokyo, far from home and on the edge of something new—

He was.

They both were.

Chapter Text

Age 19

Tokyo University's campus was massive compared to their high school—sprawling buildings, thousands of students, an energy that was both exciting and overwhelming.

Sasuke and Sakura navigated orientation together, attending the mandatory sessions, getting their student IDs, learning the campus layout.

"This is surreal," Sakura said as they walked through the main quad. "We're really here. At Tokyo U."

"We are."

"Are you nervous about classes?"

"A little. Mostly curious to see how the criminal justice program compares to what Father taught me."

"I'm terrified," Sakura admitted. "Pre-med is going to be brutal. I need to maintain a high GPA for medical school applications. The competition is going to be intense."

"You'll be fine. You're one of the smartest people I know."

"Top three in our high school class doesn't mean much here. Everyone here was top of their class."

"Then you'll work harder than everyone else. That's what you do."

She smiled. "Thanks for the confidence."

Two hours away by train, Naruto was having a completely different orientation experience. Konoha University was smaller than Tokyo U. It had about 8,000 students compared to Tokyo's 25,000, which gave it a more intimate feel. Naruto thrived in it immediately.

He joined every political organization he could find: student government, political activism groups, and community service organizations. Within the first week, everyone on campus seemed to know his name.

"You're Uzumaki Naruto, right?" someone would say in the cafeteria. "I heard you're running for freshman class representative?"

"That's the plan! Vote for me!"

He was in his element, meeting people, making connections, building the foundation for his political future. His roommate was a quiet engineering major who mostly just stayed out of Naruto's way and appreciated having the room to himself when Naruto was off at various activities.

Naruto called Sasuke at the end of the first week.

"This place is amazing!" His enthusiasm was palpable even through the phone. "I've already met so many people. I'm running for freshman representative. I joined like three clubs. This is exactly what I wanted!"

"That's great," Sasuke said genuinely. "I'm happy for you."

"How's Tokyo U?"

"Good. Classes start Monday. Sakura and I are still getting oriented."

"Tell her I said hi! And hey, we should try to visit each other sometime. It's only a two-hour train ride."

"Definitely."

They talked for a few more minutes before hanging up.

Three blocks from Konoha University, at the much smaller Konoha Women's College, Hinata was struggling.

KWC had about 2,000 students who were all women. It mostly focused on liberal arts and education.

Hinata's roommate was a cheerful girl named Emi who talked constantly about boys, parties, and makeup—topics Hinata had zero interest in.

"So, what are you studying?" Ami asked during their first night in the dorm.

"I... I'm not sure yet, I’m still undecided. Maybe education?"

"That's cool! I'm doing communications. I want to work in PR or marketing." Emi started unpacking her extensive makeup collection. "So, are you dating anyone?"

"No."

"Really? We should go to parties together. KU has the best fraternity parties. I already got invited to three this weekend."

"I don't really like parties..."

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun! And there are so many cute guys at KU. We have to take advantage of being right next door!"

Hinata's interest perked up at the mention of KU.

"Do you know a lot of people there?"

"Not yet, but I will! I'm very social, " Emi grinned, "Why? Do you know someone there?"

"A... a friend. From high school. Uzumaki Naruto."

"Uzumaki Naruto?!" Emi's eyes widened. "The guy who's running for freshman rep? Who's already in like so many clubs? That Uzumaki Naruto?"

"You know him?"

"Everyone knows him! He's everywhere! He's super friendly and outgoing and…wait, you're friends with him? That's so cool!"

"We went to high school together."

"You have to introduce me! Oh my god, he's so cute! And he's going to be super successful, you can just tell—"

Hinata felt ice in her veins.

She thinks he's cute. She wants me to introduce her.

She's pretty and outgoing and confident—everything I'm not.

What if he likes her? What if—

"Hinata? You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just tired from moving."

"Oh, totally understandable! Well, we should definitely go to that party Friday. I heard Naruto will be there!"

Hinata's mind was racing. She needed to be at that party and stay close to Naruto. She needed to make sure girls like Emi didn't get between them.

"Okay," she said. "I'll go to the party."

Sasuke's first class was "Introduction to Criminal Justice Systems" at 9 am Monday morning.

The professor was a stern man in his fifties named Professor Shinai, who had spent twenty years as a prosecutor before transitioning to academia.

"This program will be difficult," he said bluntly. "Criminal justice isn't about watching detective shows and feeling clever. It's about understanding systems, analyzing evidence, thinking critically about power and corruption. Many of you will drop out by the end of the semester. That's fine. Better to realize this isn't for you now than after you've wasted years pursuing the wrong path."

Sasuke appreciated the honesty. The coursework was immediately challenging with dense readings about legal theory, case studies to analyze, essays requiring careful argumentation. But it was exactly what he wanted. He threw himself into it completely.

Sakura's schedule was even more brutal with her taking five classes including Organic Chemistry and Human Anatomy, both known for being extremely difficult weeder courses.

"This is insane," she told Sasuke after her first week. "The amount of reading and memorization is overwhelming. And everyone here is so smart. I feel like I'm drowning."

"You're not drowning. You're adjusting. Give it time."

"I have my first Organic Chem exam in three weeks. I'm already behind."

"No, you're not. You're just used to being effortlessly good at everything. This is what it feels like when you're challenged."

"I don't like it."

"You'll adapt. You always do."

She did adapt by creating an incredibly detailed study schedule that was color-coded and time-blocked down to fifteen-minute increments. Sasuke watched her work with a mixture of amusement and admiration.

"You're going to burn out," he warned.

"I'm going to succeed," she corrected.

Naruto's classes at KU were challenging but in a different way. It was less about memorization and more about discussion, debate, understanding how systems worked. He loved it.

His favorite class was "Introduction to Political Theory" taught by Professor Hiruzen, an older man who'd been involved in local politics for decades before retiring to teach.

"Politics isn't about winning arguments," Professor Hiruzen said during the first lecture. "It's about building coalitions, understanding different perspectives, finding solutions that work for the most people possible. The best politicians aren't the ones who are always right—they're the ones who can admit when they're wrong and adjust accordingly."

Naruto took notes furiously. This was exactly what he wanted to learn. How to be effective and make real change.

The KU fraternity party was exactly what Hinata had expected. It was loud, crowded, full of drunk college students doing stupid things. She hated every minute of it. But Naruto was there, talking enthusiastically with a group of people near the makeshift bar, so Hinata stayed. Emi had immediately abandoned her to flirt with various boys, leaving Hinata standing awkwardly near the wall. She watched Naruto for twenty minutes, working up the courage to approach him.

"N-Naruto-kun?"

He turned, and his face lit up. "Hinata! Hey! I didn't know you were coming to this party!"

"Emi invited me. She's my roommate."

"That's awesome! How are you liking KWC?"

"It's... fine. How's KU?"

"It's amazing! I'm loving my classes; I'm running for freshman rep—the election is next week—and I've met so many cool people." He gestured to the group he'd been talking with. "These are my friends from Political Theory class. Guys, this is Hinata! We went to high school together."

The group said polite hellos before returning to their conversation.

Naruto turned back to Hinata. "Are you settling in okay? Making friends?"

"I... I'm adjusting."

"That's good! Hey, if you ever want to grab coffee or something, let me know! It'd be cool to catch up properly."

Hope flared in Hinata's chest. "Really? You want to get coffee?"

"Yeah! I mean, I'm super busy with classes and campaigning, but we should definitely hang out sometime!"

"When? Could we—"

"Naruto!" Someone called from across the room. "Come here! We need your opinion on something!"

"Sorry, gotta go! Good seeing you, Hinata!" He squeezed her shoulder in a friendly way and left.

Hinata stood there, shoulder burning where he'd touched her, replaying the conversation in her mind.

He said we should get coffee. He wants to hang out.

She conveniently ignored that he'd said "sometime" and not "let's schedule something now."

Naruto had completely forgotten the conversation thirty seconds after walking away. Not because he was cruel, but because that's how he interacted with everyone—friendly, warm, full of vague promises to "hang out sometime" that he never followed through on because he was too busy to remember. He wasn't leading Hinata on intentionally. He just had no idea the weight she put on every casual interaction.

Itachi lived in a small studio near campus. It was neat, organized, with one wall completely covered in a cork board full of notes, photographs, and strings connecting various pieces of information.

"Welcome to my investigation wall," Itachi said, gesturing to it. "This is everything I've found so far about who orchestrated Father's attack."

Sasuke studied the board. There were photos of the men who'd been prosecuted for the attack, but also additional names and connections spreading out from them.

"These are the people they worked for," Itachi explained, pointing to a cluster of names. "Mid-level criminals and corrupt businessmen. But they were also working for someone else—someone with real power and resources. Someone who wanted Father silenced."

"Do you know who?"

"I have theories. But no proof yet." Itachi pointed to three names at the top of the board, each with a question mark. "These three men all had reason to want Father gone. They all have connections to the municipal corruption he exposed. And they all have the resources to orchestrate something like this."

Sasuke read the names:

Danzo Shimura (construction company executive)

Orochimaru Sannin (pharmaceutical company CEO)

Madara Uchiha (distant relative, corporate lawyer)

"Madara is family?"

"Distantly. And he's corrupt as hell. He represented several of the people Father exposed. Lost a lot of clients after the trial." Itachi's expression was grim. "Any of these three could have ordered the attack. But I need evidence to prove it. That's where you come in."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Research and follow leads. This is going to take time, maybe years. But we'll figure it out." Itachi looked at his brother seriously. "Are you sure you want to be involved? This is dangerous. These are powerful men who've already tried to kill someone."

"I'm sure. Father deserves justice. And if we can prevent them from hurting someone else—"

"Then we're doing important work. I agree." Itachi handed Sasuke a folder. "Start with these files. Background on all three suspects. Read everything and make notes. See if anything jumps out at you."

Sasuke took the folder, feeling the weight of it, literally and figuratively. This was real investigative work.

This is what I'm meant to do.

Neji and Tenten had been thriving at Tokyo University—both excelling in their respective programs, still completely in love, planning their spring wedding.

But in mid-November, Neji got a call from a contact at the Hyuuga Corporation labor union.

"There's going to be another strike. Bigger than last time. The company is reneging on the agreements we made. We need help organizing."

Neji didn't hesitate. "I'll be there this weekend."

Tenten wanted to come too, but she had some major projects coming up.

"I'll go alone," Neji said. "It's just for the weekend. I'll be back Sunday night."

"Promise me you'll be careful. Your family is already hostile toward you. If you show up supporting the workers again—"

"I know. But these people need help, and I can provide it."

"I know. That's why I love you." She kissed him. "Be safe. Come back to me."

"I will. I promise."

The labor strike was larger than the previous one. Over five hundred workers walking off jobs across multiple Hyuuga Corporation construction sites. They were demanding that the company honor the previous agreements and stop finding loopholes to avoid paying for safety equipment and health insurance. Neji arrived Saturday morning and immediately joined the organization efforts by helping coordinate picket lines and talking to the media. The Hyuuga family was furious.

Hiashi personally called Neji. "If you continue this, you are no longer family. You will be disowned completely."

"I stopped being family for a long time," Neji replied. "Disown me if you want. It won't change what I'm doing."

He hung up. The strike lasted all weekend. It was tense but mostly peaceful. Sunday afternoon, there was a large demonstration outside Hyuuga Corporation headquarters. Neji was one of the speakers.

"We're not asking for unreasonable things!" he shouted to the crowd. "We're asking for basic human dignity! For safety equipment so workers don't die on job sites! For health insurance so they can afford to see a doctor when they're hurt! For fair wages that reflect the value of their labor! These aren't radical demands—they're basic decency!"

The crowd cheered. Hyuuga executives watched from the building with cold eyes. Later that evening, Neji prepared to head back to Tokyo.

"Thank you for coming," one of the union leaders said. "Your support means everything."

"Of course. Call me if you need anything else. I'm only a train ride away."

"Be careful, Neji. Your family doesn't forgive easily."

"I know. But I'm not afraid of them."

Hinata had been texting Naruto sporadically throughout October and November. Most of her messages went unanswered or received brief responses hours later. But she still continued.

Finally, in late November, she texted: "Want to get that coffee we talked about? I'm free this weekend!"

To her shock and delight, Naruto responded within an hour: "Sure! Saturday afternoon work? There's a cafe near campus."

She spent the next three days planning what to wear, what to say, how to act.

This is it. This is my chance. I need to make him see me differently. Make him realize I'm not just a friend.

Saturday arrived, and they met at the designated café. A small place popular with college students. Naruto was already there when Hinata arrived, reading something on his phone.

"Hey, Hinata! Thanks for meeting up!"

"Of course! Thank you for making time!"

They ordered coffee and sat down. Naruto talked enthusiastically about his classes, his campaign for freshman representative which he'd won and his plans for the spring semester. Hinata tried to contribute to the conversation but mostly just listened, captivated by every word.

"How are your classes going?" Naruto asked eventually.

"They're okay. I'm still deciding on a major."

"That's cool! Lots of people don't know yet. You've got time."

"What about... what about relationships? Are you dating anyone?"

The question came out more desperate than she'd intended.

Naruto looked surprised. "Me? No, I'm way too busy for dating right now. Between classes and student government and everything else—I don't have time."

"Oh." Hinata's heart sank and soared simultaneously. He's not dating anyone. That means I still have a chance.

"What about you?" Naruto asked casually. "Anyone caught your eye at KWC?"

"No. No one." Because I only have eyes for you. Always have. Always will.

They talked for another hour before Naruto checked his watch.

"I should probably get going. I have a student government meeting at 4."

"Already?"

"Yeah, sorry. But this was fun! We should do it again sometime!"

There it was again—"sometime."

Vague. Non-committal. Friendly but meaningless.

But Hinata heard, "We should do this again. I enjoyed spending time with you. Let's make this a regular thing."

"Yes! I'd love that!"

"Cool! I'll text you!"

He probably wouldn't but Hinata chose to believe he would.

The end of first semester arrived with final exams, papers, and the general chaos of everyone trying to finish strong before winter break.

Sasuke was doing well—solid grades across all his classes, already developing a reputation as a serious, dedicated student.

Sakura was surviving but stressed—Organic Chemistry was as brutal as promised, and she was constantly worried about her GPA.

"I need at least a 3.7 to be competitive for medical school," she said during a study session. "I'm cutting it too close."

"You're going to do fine," Sasuke assured her. "You always do."

"What if this time I don't?"

"Then you'll adjust and keep going. But you will do fine."

She leaned against him, exhausted. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably get more sleep since you wouldn't be distracted by a boyfriend."

"Worth it though."

They studied together through finals week, keeping each other sane, reminding each other to eat and sleep. By the time winter break finally arrived, they were both exhausted but relieved.

"We survived freshman fall," Sakura said as they packed up for the trip home to Nagi.

"We did."

"Ready to do it all again in the spring?"

"Absolutely."

Sasuke and Sakura took the train back to Nagi together, along with dozens of other students heading home for the holidays. Neji and Tenten were on the same train, a few cars back.Naruto was taking a different train from Konoha. Everyone was going home for a month of rest before second semester.

Sasuke stared out the train window, watching the landscape blur past, and felt that same unease he'd experienced during the camping trip over the summer.

"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked.

"Nothing important. Just tired."

"Me too. But we'll have a whole month to rest. Visit our families. See our friends."

"Yeah."

He squeezed her hand, and she fell asleep on his shoulder as the train carried them home.

Chapter Text

Age 19

Sasuke and Sakura returned to Tokyo in early January for the start of spring semester. The train ride back felt different from the one home—less exhausted relief, more determined readiness. They knew what to expect now. Knew how demanding the workload would be and how to pace themselves.

"How was break?" Itachi asked when he met them for coffee the first week back.

"Good." Sasuke paused. "How's the investigation?"

"Slow but progressing. I've been following financial trails—trying to connect the dots between the men who attacked Father and who paid them. I have some leads but nothing concrete yet." Itachi looked at Sasuke seriously. "Are you still committed to helping? This semester is going to be demanding academically."

"I'm still committed. I'll make time."

"Good. We'll meet weekly. I'll give you specific research tasks—things I need looked into; connections I need verified."

"What about me?" Sakura asked. "Can I help?"

Itachi looked surprised. "It could be dangerous—"

"I don't care. If Sasuke's involved, I want to help. Even if it's just research or organization or whatever you need."

Itachi studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But you both need to understand—these are dangerous people. If they discover we're investigating them, they won't hesitate to retaliate. You need to be careful. Paranoid, even."

"We will be," Sasuke promised.

"Then welcome to the investigation."

Naruto returned to KU energized and ready. He'd been elected freshman class representative, which meant attending regular student government meetings and bringing issues back to his constituents. He'd also joined the university's political mentor-mentee program, which would place him with a local council member for hands-on experience starting in February.

"This is exactly what I need," he told his roommate who was an engineering major. "Real-world political experience while I'm still in school. By the time I graduate, I'll have the connections and experience to really make a difference."

"That's good," his roommate said, barely looking up from his circuit board project. "Just don't forget to actually go to class."

"I won't! I'm balancing everything perfectly!"

He mostly was, though his grades were hovering around B-average, solid but not spectacular. But grades weren't the point for Naruto. Experience and connections mattered more for politics. He was building a reputation as someone reliable, enthusiastic, and genuinely committed to public service.

Everyone who met him thought: This kid is going places.

Hinata returned to KWC after winter break with renewed determination. Over the holidays, she'd barely seen Naruto. He'd been busy with other commitments, and the few times they'd crossed paths at group gatherings, he'd been friendly but distant.

She'd texted him multiple times during break:

"Happy New Year! Hope you're having a good break!"

"Miss seeing you at school. Can't wait for spring semester!"

His responses had been sporadic and brief:

"Thanks! You too!"

"Yeah, it'll be good to be back!"

Hinata had instead spent her winter break researching not her classes, but Naruto. She had looked up his class schedule that publicly available through the student portal. She had also joined every KWC club that had joint events with KU. Her roommate Emi noticed.

"You're kind of obsessed with that Naruto guy, aren't you?"

"I'm not obsessed. We're friends."

"Friends don't memorize someone's class schedule and plan their entire life around seeing them."

"I don't—"

"Hinata, I'm your roommate. I see what you're doing. And I'm worried about you." Emi's voice was surprisingly serious. "This isn't healthy. If he doesn't feel the same way—and it really seems like he doesn't—you need to move on."

"You don't understand. We have history. We've known each other since we were six. There's a connection that—"

"That he doesn't feel. At least not romantically." Emi softened her tone. "Look, I'm not trying to be mean. But watching you do this is painful. You deserve to be with someone who actually wants to be with you. Who seeks you out instead of you always seeking them out."

"He's just busy—"

"If he wanted to make time for you, he would. That's how interest works."

Hinata turned away, tears burning in her eyes.

"I need to study. Can we not talk about this?"

"Okay. But think about what I said."

Hinata did think about it and rejected it completely.

Emi doesn't understand. She doesn't know Naruto like I do. She doesn't see the connection we have.

With the wedding scheduled for late March, Neji and Tenten spent February finalizing details such as the guest list, flowers, catering, and music.

"I can't believe we're really doing this," Tenten said one evening as they addressed invitations in their Tokyo apartment. "Getting married at nineteen."

"Do you regret it? Are you having second thoughts?"

"No! God, no. I want our life together." She looked at him. "But sometimes I just... I pause and think 'we're so young.'"

"We are young and we're also sure. Those aren't mutually exclusive."

"I know and I am sure about everything." She smiled.

They sealed another invitation and added it to the growing stack. Six weeks until the wedding. Six weeks until they officially became husband and wife.

The Hyuuga family held another quarterly clan meeting in late February. Neji, despite being estranged from most of the family, was still technically required to attend as a member of the family. He debated skipping it.

"They'll just use it as an opportunity to berate me," he told Tenten. "I don't need that stress right before our wedding."

"Then don't go. You're not obligated to subject yourself to abuse."

"But if I don't go, I won't know what they're planning. And the workers' union has been hearing rumors about new labor violations. I need information."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No. You have that huge exam Monday. Stay here and study. I'll drive down Saturday morning, attend the meeting, and drive back that night. I'll be back before you know it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. It's just one meeting. I'll survive."

She kissed him. "Okay. But call me if you need anything. And drive safe."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too."

Neji drove to Nagi early Saturday morning, arriving at the Hyuuga compound around 10 am for the 11 am meeting. Hinata was also required to attend, having been summoned home by her father. She hadn't been looking forward to it, clan meetings were always tense and boring.The tension in the room was immediately apparent when the meeting began. Hiashi Hyuuga sat at the head of the table, flanked by other executives and family elders. Neji sat toward the middle, alone, radiating quiet defiance.

"We'll begin with financial reports," Hiashi said coldly.

The usual boring presentations followed—profit margins, construction projects, quarterly earnings. Then they reached labor issues.

"The workers have been demanding additional safety measures," one executive reported.

"Specifically, they want harnesses and safety netting on all high-rise projects. The cost would be approximately 2 million yen per project."

"Unacceptable," Hiashi said immediately. "We've already made concessions. No further expenditures on labor."

"People are dying," Neji said quietly.

The room went silent.

"Excuse me?" Hiashi's voice was ice.

"Workers are dying because we won't pay for basic safety equipment. Three deaths in the last six months. All preventable." Neji's voice was calm but firm. "We're making record profits while people fall to their deaths because we won't spend 2 million yen on safety equipment."

"This is not your concern—"

"It's absolutely my concern. I'm part of this family. These decisions are made in my name, using my inheritance, building on my legacy. I will not be complicit in killing people for profit."

"You ungrateful—"

"I'm not ungrateful. I'm ethical. There's a difference." Neji stood. "I'm formally requesting that this council approve the safety measures. It's the right thing to do, and it's legally required under current construction codes."

"Request denied. Sit down."

"I will not sit down while you sentence people to death."

The confrontation escalated, voices raised, accusations flying.

Hinata watched from her seat feeling afraid of the family's reaction.

Finally, Hiashi stood.

"Neji Hyuuga, you are hereby formally disowned from the Hyuuga family. You will no longer have access to family resources, family property, or family name for business purposes. You are no longer welcome at family events. You are no longer considered family."

The room went silent.

Neji's expression didn't change. "I accept your disownment. I don't want to be part of a family that values money over human life." He turned to left the room.

Hinata sat through the rest of the meeting, barely hearing anything.

After the meeting ended around 2 pm, Hinata found Neji in the parking structure, loading things into a borrowed car.

"Neji-nii-san, are you heading back to Tokyo tonight?"

"Yeah. I want to get back to Tenten. She has an exam to study for and I promised I wouldn't be gone long."

"My bus ride back to my campus got cancelled, could you give me a ride? Back to Konoha? It's kind of on the way."

Neji hesitated.

The plan had been to drive straight to Tokyo and that was about a two-hour drive. Dropping Hinata in Konoha would add another forty minutes, making it a late night. And he wanted to get back to Tenten. But Hinata was his cousin and he felt obligated to help her.

"Okay. Yeah. Hop in."

"Thank you so much!"

Hinata climbed into the passenger seat, grateful that Neji has accepted to drive her. Maybe she could talk to him about Naruto. Get advice. Figure out how to make Naruto see her differently. They drove in comfortable silence for the first twenty minutes with Neji focused on the road.

"Neji-nii-san?" Hinata asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"How did you know? That Tenten was the one?"

Neji glanced at her, surprised by the question, then smiled.

"I knew because being with her made everything else make sense. Because I wanted to build a life with her more than I wanted anything else. Because she challenged me to be better while loving me as I was." He paused. "Why do you ask?"

"I just... I want that. That kind of certainty."

"You'll find it. When it's right, you'll know."

I already have, Hinata thought. I've known since I was six years old. But he doesn't know yet.

They drove on.

The road was dark, winding through the mountains between Nagi and Konoha.

Hinata's phone buzzed—a text from Emi: "Where are you? Thought you'd be back by now."

She responded: "Got a ride back from cousin. Will be there in about 30 minutes."

"We should have you back around 9:30," Neji said, checking the time. It was 9:05 PM.

For now, they were just two cousins driving through the dark, listening to soft music, comfortable in each other's company. Hinata had been drinking from a water bottle throughout the drive—or what appeared to be a water bottle. It wasn't water. She'd brought vodka from the dorm—stolen from Emi's stash—mixed with water to mask the smell. She'd been sipping it for the past hour. She'd told herself it was to calm her nerves after the stressful family meeting. That was partially true. But there was something else building inside her. The alcohol was lowering her inhibitions, letting thoughts surface that she normally kept buried.

"I need to tell you something," Hinata said suddenly.

"What's that?" Neji asked, eyes on the road.

"I'm in love with Naruto. I've been in love with him since we were six years old. Twelve years. And he doesn't love me back."

Silence.

"Hinata—" Neji started carefully.

"Everyone tells me to move on. To let it go. To build my own life. But I can't. I've tried. I can't stop loving him. I can't stop hoping." Her voice was rising, slurring slightly. "And you—you and Tenten—you got what I want. You got the happy ending. You get to marry the person you love. Why do you get that and I don't? What did I do wrong? Why am I being punished?"

"Hinata, are you drunk?" Neji asked, concern sharp in his voice.

"Maybe. I don't know. Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters. How much have you had to drink?"

"Not that much. I'm fine."

"You're not fine. We're going to get you back to your dorm and you need to sleep this off. And maybe see someone to talk about this, like I said before this isn’t healthy…"

"Don't tell me what's healthy! You don't know what it's like! You have Tenten! You've always had her! You don't know what it's like to love someone who doesn't even see you!"

"Hinata, I need you to calm down. Take deep breaths—"

"I don't want to calm down! I'm tired of being calm! I'm tired of being patient! I'm tired of pretending everything is fine when it's not!"

She was spiraling, and Neji was trapped—driving on a dangerous mountain road with no place to pull over and an increasingly hysterical passenger.

"Hinata, listen to me," he said, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing. "You're going through something really hard. But you need professional help. This isn't something you can handle alone—"

"I've been alone for twelve years! Twelve years of loving someone who doesn't love me back! Everyone else gets to be happy—you, Tenten, Sakura, Sasuke—everyone except me! Why? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you. But this fixation on Naruto—it's not healthy. It's preventing you from building a real life, from finding someone who actually wants to be with you—"

"I don't want anyone else! I only want him! I've only ever wanted him!"

She was crying now, full breakdown, years of repressed emotion pouring out.

The car swerved slightly as Neji navigated a particularly sharp curve, his attention divided between the road and his distraught passenger.

"Hinata, I need you to stop shouting. You're distracting me and this road is dangerous—"

"I don't care! I don't care about anything anymore! Nothing matters! Naruto will never love me! I'll never be happy! What's the point of any of it?"

"The point is that you're nineteen years old with your whole life ahead of you. You can get help. You can heal. You can find happiness that doesn't depend on one person who doesn't feel the same way—"

"STOP THE CAR!"

"I can't stop here, there's no shoulder. Just ten more minutes and we'll be in Konoha and I can pull over properly—"

And then Hinata made a choice. Later, she would tell herself it wasn't intentional.That she was drunk and upset and not thinking clearly. That she just wanted him to stop talking, to stop telling her uncomfortable truths. But some part of her knew. Some part of her made a decision in that split second. She reached over and grabbed the steering wheel.

"Hinata, NO—"

The car swerved violently.

Neji fought for control, trying to wrench the wheel back, but Hinata was pulling hard, drunk and hysterical and beyond reason.

"Let GO—" Neji shouted, trying to push her hands away while also controlling the car.

But it was too late.

The car went off the road. There was a sickening moment of weightlessness as they went over the embankment. Then the car hit something—a tree, a boulder—and rolled. Metal crunching. Glass shattering. The world kept spinning. Impact after impact.

Screaming—Neji's voice, desperate: "HINATA STOP—"

Then a final, devastating crash as the car came to rest at the bottom of the ravine.

Then absolute silence.

Chapter Text

Age 19

Hinata regained consciousness slowly. Everything hurt. Her head was pounding. Her arm was screaming with pain. Her seatbelt was cutting into her chest. The car was on its side, driver's side down. She was hanging in her seatbelt, disoriented, the world sideways. It took her a moment to remember where she was.

What had happened.

The car. Neji. I grabbed the wheel. We crashed.

"Neji-nii-san?" Her voice came out as a whisper.

No response. She turned her head in pain and looked at the driver's seat below her.

Neji was there and he was not moving. There was so much blood.

"Neji-nii-san?" Louder now, panic creeping in.

There was no response and no movement coming from Neji.

No no no no no—

She fumbled with her seatbelt, finally getting it unbuckled, and fell awkwardly onto Neji.

"Neji! Wake up! Please wake up!"

She shook him. There was still no movement. She pressed her fingers to his neck, trying to find a pulse like she'd seen in movies. She couldn’t feel anything.

Oh god. Oh god no. I killed him.

I grabbed the wheel and I killed him.

The realization crashed over her like ice water. She'd killed her cousin. Because she was drunk and upset and couldn't handle hearing the truth about her obsession. Hinata sat there in the wreckage, covered in blood and felt reality fracture. She should call for help. She should call 911.

She should—

Wait.

A thought crystallized through the panic and horror.

If I call for help, they'll know. They'll know I was drunk. They'll know I grabbed the wheel. They'll know I caused this. I'll go to prison.

My life will be over.

Another thought, darker, more desperate.

But if they think Neji caused the accident...Then I'm just the victim. The traumatized passenger who survived. No one has to know what really happened.

No one has to know I killed him.

It was a monstrous thought. But Hinata was broken in ways she'd never acknowledged. Twelve years of obsession had rotted something essential inside her. And now, faced with the consequences of her actions, faced with the reality of what she'd done—

She chose to lie and save herself and let Neji take the blame for his own death.

The physical evidence would be confusing—blood patterns didn't quite match, forensics would be messy—but in the chaos of a serious accident, would anyone look that closely? Especially if she told a convincing story? She sat there for a moment, behind the wheel, Neji's body beside her, and felt something inside her calcify. Whatever remained of her conscience.

Whatever small voice might have said "this is wrong, you can't do this, you have to tell the truth."

It died.

She pulled out her phone—miraculously, it still worked—and dialed 911.When the operator answered, she let herself cry and sound traumatized. Let herself become the victim of a terrible accident instead of its cause.

"Please help," she sobbed. "There's been an accident. My cousin was driving. We went off the road. He's—I think he's dead. Please help us."

She gave the location as best she could. Told them there were two people in the car and that they had to hurry. And then she waited next to Neji's body.

Even in this moment—covered in blood, next to her cousin's corpse, having just committed an unforgivable act—

Some part of Hinata was already calculating.

Naruto will feel sorry for me. He'll comfort me. This will bring us closer.Something good can come from this. It's terrible that Neji died. But maybe... maybe this is my chance.

The sirens were approaching in the distance. Hinata took a deep breath and prepared to perform. The biggest performance of her life. The lie that would define her existence. The moment when whatever remained of Hinata Hyuuga died alongside her cousin in that wrecked car. And something monstrous took her place.

The ambulance arrived first, followed by police and fire rescue. Flashlights cut through the darkness as first responders made their way down the embankment to the crash site.

"We've got two passengers!" someone shouted. "Female driver appears conscious. Male passenger unresponsive!"

Hinata let herself sob real tears, real pain, but for the wrong reasons. Not grief for Neji but for fear of being caught.

"Ma'am, can you hear me?" A paramedic was at her window—or what remained of it. "What's your name?"

"H-Hinata. Hinata Hyuuga."

"Okay, Hinata. We're going to get you out of there. Can you tell me where you're hurt?"

"My arm. My head. Everything hurts."

"That's normal after an accident. Try to stay still. We're going to stabilize your neck before we move you."

They worked quickly—neck brace, careful extraction from the vehicle, onto a stretcher.

The whole time, Hinata watched them work on Neji. Watched them check for vital signs. She saw them exchange looks that meant what she already knew. That her cousin was dead.

"W-what about my c-cousin?" she stuttered, voice small and scared. "Is he—"

"The paramedics are doing everything they can," someone said, which was the kind of non-answer that meant there was no hope.

A police officer approached her stretcher. "Miss Hyuuga, I'm Officer Yamada. Can you tell me what happened?"

This was it. The moment where she committed fully to the lie.

"My cousin was driving. Neji. Neji Hyuuga. He was taking me back to my dorm in Konoha." Her voice shook, not hard to fake when she was actually terrified. "We were coming from a family meeting in Nagi. He was tired, I think. And upset from the meeting. The family disowned him today."

"Disowned him?"

"He stood up to them about worker safety. They didn't like it." True, all of it. "He was upset. Distracted. And the road was dark and winding and I think…I think he just lost control. We went off the road and…and…" She dissolved into sobs.

"Okay, okay. We can talk more later. Let's just get you to the hospital."

They loaded her into the ambulance. As they pulled away, she saw them covering Neji's body with a tarp.

I'm sorry, she thought. I'm so sorry, Neji-nii-san. But she was not sorry enough to tell the truth.

Hinata was taken to Nagi General Hospital—the same hospital where Fugaku Uchiha had been treated after his attack.

Her injuries were assessed. She had a fractured left arm, a concussion, and various cuts and bruises. Painful but not life-threatening. They gave her pain medication, set her arm in a cast, bandaged her cuts, and admitted her for overnight observation.

"You were very lucky," a doctor said. "Accidents like that—going off the road at that speed—often have worse outcomes."

Lucky, Hinata thought bitterly. I killed someone and I'm lucky.

"Your family has been contacted," a nurse said. "They're on their way."

Hinata's stomach dropped. Her family. Which meant her father. Who would want to know every detail of what happened. She had to get her story straight. Had to make sure every detail aligned.

Had to sell this lie perfectly.

Hiashi Hyuuga arrived at the hospital with the force of a thunderstorm, powerful, cold, and commanding immediate attention. He swept into Hinata's room, assessed her condition with a glance, and dismissed the nurse with a gesture. Once they were alone, he spoke.

"Tell me exactly what happened."

Hinata repeated the story she'd told the police. That Neji was driving, he was upset from being disowned, he lost control of the car, they crashed. Hiashi listened without interruption. When she finished, he was silent for a long moment.

"Neji is dead."

"I know."

"He was about to be married. To that girl—Tenten."

"I know."

"This will reflect poorly on the family. The media will have questions."

"We'll issue a statement," Hiashi continued. "A tragedy. A terrible accident. Neji was a troubled young man who made poor choices—his activism, his estrangement from the family, and ultimately, his reckless driving."

"He wasn't reckless—" Hinata started, then stopped. Because she needed people to believe he was reckless. That's what her lie depended on.

"He caused an accident that nearly killed you," Hiashi said coldly. "That's the definition of reckless. The family will handle the funeral arrangements. You will recover. And we will move past this unfortunate incident."

He stood to leave.

"Father—"

"What?"

Tell him the truth. Tell him you were the one driving. Tell him you caused this.

But the words wouldn't come.

"Nothing. Thank you for coming."

He left without another word.

Hinata lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, and felt the weight of what she'd done settle over her like a shroud. She'd killed Neji. She'd lied about it. And now she had to live with that forever.

But some part of her—the part that had been rotted by twelve years of obsession—whispered:

At least Naruto will comfort you now. At least something good will come from this.

And she hated herself for thinking it.

Tenten was studying for her exam when her phone rang. It was an unknown number. She almost didn't answer, but something made her pick up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Tenten?"

"Yes, who's calling?"

"This is Officer Yamada with Nagi Police Department. I'm calling about Neji Hyuuga. Are you his fiancée?"

The world stopped.

"Yes. What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"I'm very sorry to inform you that Neji was involved in a serious car accident this evening. He... he didn't survive. I'm so sorry."

The phone slipped from Tenten's hand. She heard the officer's voice, distant and tinny, still talking. But she couldn't hear the words. Couldn't process anything beyond those  words:

He didn't survive. Neji was dead. Her fiancé was dead.

The person she'd loved since she was thirteen. The person she was supposed to marry in three weeks. The person who was supposed to be her forever. He was dead. She picked up the phone with shaking hands.

"What happened?"

"There was a car accident. He was driving on the mountain road between Nagi and Konoha. Lost control. Went off the road." The officer's voice was professionally sympathetic. "His cousin Hinata Hyuuga was in the car with him. She survived. She's being treated for injuries but she'll be okay."

Hinata was in the car. She survived and Neji died.

"Was he—" Tenten's voice broke. "Did he suffer?"

"The coroner believes death was instantaneous. He wouldn't have felt pain."

It was a small mercy.

"Where is he now?"

"His body has been taken to Nagi Medical Examiner's office. The family has been notified and will be handling arrangements."

"I'm his fiancée. I should—I need to see him. I need to—"

"Of course. The family will be in touch about arrangements. Again, I'm very sorry for your loss."

The call ended. Tenten sat on her bed in her Tokyo apartment, phone in hand, and felt her entire world collapse. Neji was gone. The wedding invitations they'd addressed together were sitting on her desk. The dress she'd bought was hanging in her closet. The life they'd planned was erased in an instant. And she was alone. She called her parents, sobbing so hard she could barely speak. They promised to come immediately.

She called Sakura next—she and Sasuke were closest, both in Tokyo.

Sakura answered on the second ring. "Tenten? What's wrong?"

"Neji's dead." The words felt impossible. "Car accident. He's dead."

"What? When? How—"

"Tonight. Driving back from some family meeting. He went off the road. Sakura, he's dead. He's really dead."

"We're coming over. Right now. Don't move. We'll be there in twenty minutes."

Sakura and Sasuke arrived in fifteen. They found Tenten curled on her bed, shaking, barely coherent. Sakura immediately wrapped her in a hug while Sasuke called the others—Naruto, Shikamaru, Ino, everyone who needed to know.

Neji is dead. Car accident. No, I don't have details. Yes, I'm sure. Tenten just got the call.

The news spread through their friend group like wildfire. There were various reactions, most notably shock, disbelief and grief.

Neji Hyuuga—brilliant, principled, kind Neji who'd stood up to his family, who'd been engaged to Tenten, who'd been planning a wedding—

Was gone. At nineteen years old. Dead on a mountain road.

Hinata woke in the hospital to find her mother sitting beside her bed.

"Mother?"

"Hinata. How are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts."

"The doctors say you'll make a full recovery. The fracture will heal, the concussion will resolve. You were very lucky."

That word again. Lucky.

"Mother, Neji is—"

"I know. It's a tragedy. But you survived. That's what matters now."

"I need to tell you something—"

"You don't need to tell me anything. You were in a terrible accident. Your cousin was driving recklessly and caused the crash. That's what the police report will say. That's what happened."

Hinata stared at her mother.

Did she know? Did she suspect? Or was she just choosing the convenient narrative?

"Now, the family is handling the funeral arrangements. You'll be expected to attend once you're released from the hospital. We'll provide a statement to media—tragic accident, family is grieving, please respect our privacy. The standard things."

"What about Tenten?"

"Neji's fiancée? The family will inform her of funeral details. Beyond that, she's not our concern."

"Mother, she loved him—"

"And now he's gone. It's unfortunate but there's nothing to be done about it. You need to focus on your recovery." Her mother stood. "I'll be back this evening. Try to rest."

She left. Hinata lay in the hospital bed, feeling the walls closing in. Everyone was accepting her story. The police, the family, probably the media. No one was questioning it. No one suspected. She was going to get away with it.

Naruto got the news from Sasuke's call at midnight. He'd been asleep, phone on silent, and woke to seventeen missed calls and dozens of texts. When he finally called Sasuke back, the news hit him like a physical blow.

"Neji's dead? How? What happened?"

Sasuke explained what little they knew—car accident, mountain road, Hinata was in the car and survived.

"Is Hinata okay?"

"She's injured but alive. Neji... was distracted while driving, or something. I don't have all the details."

"I need to see her. Hinata, I mean. She must be traumatized. I should—"

"Naruto, Tenten is here. She's devastated. Maybe focus on—"

"I know, I know. I'll call Tenten too. But Hinata was in the actual car. She saw him die. She must be—"

"Fine. Do what you need to do. I'll text you the hospital information."

Naruto immediately texted Hinata: "Just heard about the accident. I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Hinata was staring at her phone, unable to sleep, when the text came through. Her heart leapt despite everything.

He's reaching out. He cares. He's worried about me.

She responded: "I'm okay. Just scared. It was so horrible. I keep seeing it happen over and over."

That part was true. The crash kept replaying in her mind. Though her version was very different from the one everyone else believed.

Naruto responded immediately: "That's trauma. You should talk to someone—a counselor or therapist. And if you need to talk, I'm here. Anytime."

"Thank you. That means so much."

"Do you want me to visit? Once you're out of the hospital?"

"Yes. Please. I don't want to be alone."

"You won't be. I promise. We're all here for you."

Hinata read the messages over and over, feeling something warm bloom in her chest despite the horror of the last twelve hours. Naruto cared. He was reaching out, wanted to help her.

Maybe Neji's death wasn't for nothing. Maybe this is how Naruto and I finally connect.

Hinata was released from the hospital Monday afternoon. The doctors cleared her to go home with instructions: rest, pain medication, follow-up appointment in two weeks to check the fracture. Her parents drove her back to her dorm at Konoha Women's College. Emi, her roommate, was shocked to see her.

"Oh my god, Hinata! I heard about the accident! Are you okay?"

"I'm alive."

"I heard your cousin... I'm so sorry."

"Thank you."

"If you need anything—"

"I need to sleep. Just... let me sleep."

Hinata collapsed into bed and didn't wake up for sixteen hours.

When she finally did wake, her phone was full of messages:

From Naruto: "Hope you're resting. Let me know when you're up for a visit."

From various friends from Nagi and the group: "So sorry about Neji." "If you need anything..." "Can't believe this happened."

From her father: "Funeral is scheduled for Saturday. You will attend. Family will issue statement tomorrow."

And one text, from a number she didn't recognize: "This is Tenten. I need to talk to you about what happened. Please call me."

Hinata stared at that last message for a long time. Tenten wanted to talk.

She deleted the message without responding.

The Hyuuga family issued an official statement Tuesday morning:

"It is with deep sadness that the Hyuuga family announces the death of Neji Hyuuga, age 19, in a tragic car accident on February 28th. Neji was a bright young man with strong convictions, though his recent choices had caused strain within the family. The accident occurred when Neji lost control of his vehicle on a mountain road, resulting in his death and serious injuries to his passenger and cousin, Hinata Hyuuga, who is expected to make a full recovery. The family asks for privacy during this difficult time. Funeral services will be private. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the Tokyo University scholarship fund in Neji's name."

The statement was cold, clinical, and subtly shifted blame onto Neji.

"Recent choices had caused strain."

"Lost control of his vehicle."

Implications that he'd been troubled, reckless, responsible for his own death. Tenten read the statement and felt rage mixed with her grief.

They're blaming him. Even in death, they're blaming him for standing up to them.

She called Sakura. "Did you see the statement?"

"I saw it. It's disgusting."

"They're making it sound like he was reckless. Like this was his fault. Like he was some troubled kid who made bad choices instead of a principled person who stood up for what was right."

"I know. But what can we do?"

"I want to know exactly what happened. I want to talk to Hinata. She was in the car. She saw everything. I need to know—" Her voice broke. "I need to know his last moments. If he said anything. If he—"

"Do you want me and Sasuke to come with you? When you talk to her?"

"Would you?"

"Of course. Whatever you need."

"Thank you."

They arranged to visit Hinata together that Thursday—giving her a few more days to recover before asking her to relive the trauma.

Naruto showed up at Hinata's dorm Wednesday afternoon with flowers and sympathy.

"Hey," he said softly when Emi let him in. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Sore. But better than I was." Hinata was in bed, her arm in a cast. She was trying her best to look fragile.

"I brought you flowers. And some snacks. I didn't know what you'd want so I just grabbed a bunch of things."

"Thank you. That's really kind."

He sat in Emi's desk chair, angled toward Hinata's bed.

"Do you want to talk about it? The accident?"

"I... I don't know. It's all kind of a blur."

"That's normal. Trauma does that. Your brain protects you by making things fuzzy. What do you remember?"

Everything, Hinata thought. I remember every detail. Grabbing the wheel. The crash. Creating the lie.

But she said, "We were driving back from the family meeting. Neji was upset—they'd disowned him for standing up about worker safety. He was quiet most of the drive, just thinking. And then... we were on this winding road through the mountains, and I think he was just tired and distracted and not paying attention, and we came around a curve too fast and he overcorrected and—"

She started crying. Real tears, but not for the reasons Naruto thought.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I just keep thinking—if I'd been driving instead, if I'd offered to drive, maybe he'd still be alive. Maybe I could have—"

"No. Don't do that. Don't blame yourself. This wasn't your fault."

But it was. It was entirely my fault.

"I just wish I could go back. Change something. Anything."

"I know. We all wish that." Naruto reached out and took her hand—her uninjured one. "But you can't change what happened. All you can do is move forward. Heal. Honor his memory by living well."

Hinata looked at their joined hands and felt that familiar warmth.

He's holding my hand. He's here with me. He cares.

"Thank you for coming. I know you're busy with school and everything."

"Hey, you're important. My friend was in a traumatic accident. Of course, I'm going to be here."

Friend.

The word stung. But he was here. In her room. Holding her hand. Caring about her. It was more than she'd had before.

Maybe this is how it starts. Maybe this tragedy brings us together. Maybe—

"I should probably let you rest," Naruto said, standing. "But I'll check in on you regularly, okay? And if you need anything—anything at all—you call me immediately."

"I will. Thank you, Naruto-kun."

He smiled—that bright, genuine smile—and left.

Hinata lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the monster inside her grow stronger. She'd used Neji's death to get closer to Naruto. And it was working.

Tenten, Sakura and Sasuke arrived at Hinata's dorm Thursday afternoon.

Tenten looked like she hadn't slept in days—eyes red, face pale, moving like she was held together by sheer force of will. Sakura looked heartbroken, she'd known Neji since childhood, had watched him and Tenten fall in love and looked forward to attending their wedding. Sasuke looked grim and analytical, already processing details.

"Hinata," Tenten said when Emi let them in. "Thank you for seeing us."

"Of course. I'm so sorry about Neji. I'm so, so sorry."

They sat—Tenten, Sakura and Sasuke on Emi's bed. Emi had made herself scarce sensing the tension. Hinata sat on her own bed.

"I need to know what happened," Tenten said, voice steady despite the pain in her eyes. "The police told me the basics but I need more. I need to understand. Please."

This was it. The moment where Hinata had to look into the eyes of Neji's fiancée—and two of her oldest peers—and lie convincingly about how he died. She took a breath and began the performance of her life.

"We were coming back from the family meeting. Neji had been disowned—you probably heard?"

"He told me it might happen. He wasn't surprised."

"He was upset but also... relieved? Like he'd finally cut ties with something toxic. We talked about it in the car. He said he was glad to be free of them. And he talked about you. About the wedding. About how excited he was."

Tenten's face crumpled slightly. "He did?"

"Yes. He said marrying you was the best decision he'd ever made. That you were his person. That he couldn't wait for the wedding."

Sakura squeezed Tenten's hand, her own eyes welling with tears.

"What happened after that?"

"We drove for a while in comfortable silence. He was focused on the road—it was dark and winding. I was just looking out the window, thinking. And then..." She let her voice shake. "I don't know exactly what happened. We came around a curve and I think he was going too fast, or maybe he wasn't paying attention, and he tried to correct but overcorrected and—we just went off the road. I remember screaming. I remember the car rolling. And then everything went black."

"Did he say anything? At the end?"

Hinata thought carefully. What would Tenten want to hear?

"He said my name. Like he was trying to protect me. His instinct was to reach over, try to shield me." It was a complete lie. But it sounded heroic. "That's the last thing I remember before the impact."

Tenten was crying now, and Sakura had arms around her.

"Did he... do you think he suffered?"

"The police said it was instantaneous. He wouldn't have felt pain."

"That's what they told me too. I just... I needed to hear it from someone who was there."

"I'm so sorry, Tenten. I wish I could have done something. I wish—"

"It's not your fault. You survived. That's what matters."

Sasuke spoke for the first time. "Had Neji been drinking? Or was he on any medication? Anything that might have impaired his driving?"

The question was casual but sharp. Hinata's heart rate spiked.

"No. Nothing like that. He was just tired and upset and distracted."

"But the family statement mentioned his 'recent choices causing strain.' It implied he was troubled. Reckless."

"The family is trying to save face. You know how they are. They're blaming him for standing up to them. But Neji wasn't reckless. He was just... human. Tired and distracted and it cost him everything."

Sakura interjected gently, "Hinata, I know this is hard, but can you walk us through the actual moment of the crash? You said he overcorrected, what made him need to correct in the first place?"

Another sharp question, this time from someone Hinata hadn't expected.

Sakura's medical training was already showing—attention to detail, need for complete information.

"I... I'm not sure. Like I said, it happened so fast. Maybe there was an animal on the road? Or maybe he just misjudged the curve? I was looking out the side window, not directly ahead."

"And you were in the passenger seat the whole time?" Sasuke asked.

"Yes."

"You didn't offer to drive at any point? Even though you knew he was tired and upset?"

Hinata felt ice in her veins.

Why are they asking these questions? Do they know something?

"I... I offered earlier. When we first left the meeting. But Neji said he was fine. Said he wanted to drive. That it would help him think."

"And during the drive? You didn't notice any signs that he was too tired? Too distracted?"

"No. He seemed okay. We were talking normally. About the wedding, about Tenten, about the future." Her voice broke. "If I'd known—if I'd realized he was too tired to be driving—I would have insisted we pull over. I would have—"

"Stop," Tenten said, her voice raw. "Stop blaming yourself. Both of you." She looked at Sakura and Sasuke. "Stop interrogating her. She was in a traumatic accident. She lost her cousin. She nearly died. She doesn't need this."

Sakura backed off immediately. "You're right. I'm sorry, Hinata. I just... I'm trying to understand."

"I know." Hinata wiped her eyes. "I keep trying to understand too. Keep replaying it in my mind. Wondering if there was something I could have done differently."

Sakura's expression was conflicted—sympathy for Hinata's obvious distress, but also something else. Something thoughtful and analytical. She didn't voice her concerns, but Hinata could see them there.

Sakura suspects something. Maybe not the full truth, but she knows something is wrong.

"I think we should go," Sakura said gently. "Let Hinata rest. This has been a lot."

They stood to leave. Tenten hugged Hinata, it was awkward with the cast but genuine.

"The funeral is Saturday. Will you be there?"

"Yes. The family is requiring it."

"Then I'll see you there. And Hinata—thank you. For being with him at the end. For trying to protect him. For... for being there."

Hinata hugged back, feeling the weight of her lies pressing down.

I killed him. I'm hugging his fiancée and I killed him and she's thanking me.

After they left, closing the door behind them, the three friends walked in silence down the hallway of the dorm. Only when they were outside did Sakura speak.

"Something doesn't add up."

"I know," Sasuke said immediately.

Tenten looked at them both. "What do you mean?"

"Small things," Sakura said carefully. "The way she described the crash—it's too... polished. Too rehearsed. Like she's told it multiple times already and refined the narrative."

"She's probably replaying it in her mind constantly," Tenten argued. "Trauma does that."

"Maybe," Sasuke said. "But some of her answers didn't quite match the questions. When I asked about Neji being impaired, she immediately jumped to defending him. Before I suggested he was reckless."

"Because the family statement implied that," Tenten countered.

"True. But there's something else." Sakura hesitated. "She said she was looking out the side window, not ahead. But she also described the curve and Neji overcorrecting. How would she know he overcorrected if she wasn't watching him drive?"

Sasuke's eyes sharpened. "Good catch."

"You're reading too much into it," Tenten said, voice strained. "She's traumatized and medicated and trying to remember details from a horrible accident. Of course, the story isn't perfectly consistent. That's normal."

"You're right," Sakura said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be picking apart her story when she's been through so much."

But she and Sasuke exchanged a look that said they weren't convinced.

After everyone left, Hinata lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation.

They suspect something. They don't know the truth, but they know something is wrong.

She'd have to be more careful. The funeral was in two days. She'd have to perform perfectly. Show grief, trauma, survivor's guilt. Make everyone believe the lie completely. Make them stop questioning. And most importantly—

Use Neji's death to get closer to Naruto. Because that was the only thing that could possibly make this worthwhile. She'd become what she needed to become to survive. And now she would use that darkness to get what she wanted.

Naruto. Finally, after twelve years. She would have him. No matter who she had to destroy along the way.

Chapter Text

Age 19

The funeral was scheduled for Saturday, March 7th—one week after the accident. It would be held at a traditional funeral home in Nagi—chosen by the Hyuuga family, planned without consulting Tenten, designed more for appearances than for genuine mourning.

Tenten couldn't sleep. She lay in her Tokyo apartment, the same apartment she'd shared countless hours in with Neji, planning their wedding, dreaming about their future and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow she would attend his funeral and say goodbye to the person she was supposed to spend her life with.She would have to see his body in a casket.

The thought made her physically ill.

Sakura was sleeping on the couch—she'd insisted on staying the night, refusing to let Tenten be alone.

"Do you want to talk?" Sakura had asked earlier that evening.

"I don't know what to say. He's gone. What is there to talk about?"

"How you're feeling. If there is anything that you need?"

"I need him back. Can you do that?"

"No. I wish I could."

"Then there's nothing to talk about."

Now, at 3 am, Tenten got out of bed and found Sakura awake on the couch.

"Can't sleep either?" Sakura asked.

"No." Tenten sat down. "I keep thinking about the wedding. We had everything planned. The venue, the flowers, the music. The invitations are still sitting on my desk. I can't bring myself to throw them away."

"You don't have to. Not yet."

"But what's the point of keeping them? There's no wedding. There's no future. There's just... nothing."

Sakura took her hand. "There's grief that will heal eventually. There's honoring his memory. There's building a life that reflects everything he taught you."

"That sounds nice in theory. But right now all I feel is empty."

"That's normal. You're in shock. The real grief will come later, and it will be worse. But you'll survive it."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're strong. Stronger than you realize. And because you have people who love you and will help you through this." Sakura squeezed her hand. "You're not alone, Tenten. Even though it feels like you are."

"Thank you." Tenten's voice was barely a whisper. "For being here. For everything."

"Always."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the city lights through the window, both dreading the day ahead.

Naruto was also awake, lying in his dorm room, thinking about the funeral. He'd never been to a funeral before. This would be his first time confronting death directly. And it was Neji’s funeral. Someone he'd known since elementary school and who'd been part of their friend group forever. Someone who'd been planning a wedding just weeks ago.

It felt surreal.

But more than that, he kept thinking about Hinata. She'd been in the car and had watched Neji die. She was traumatized, hurt and alone. He needed to be there for her. He needed to make sure she was okay. Needed to help her through this.

That's what friends do, he told himself. They show up when things are hard.

He had no idea that Hinata was interpreting his concern as romantic interest. That she was using Neji's death as a tool to get closer to him. For now, he was just trying to do the right thing. Trying to be a good friend and to help someone who was suffering. All good intentions.

The funeral was scheduled for 1 pm on a Saturday. Tenten spent the morning getting ready—black dress, minimal makeup, trying to look presentable while feeling like she was dying inside.

Sakura and Sasuke picked her up at 11am for the train ride to Nagi.

"Ready?" Sakura asked.

"No. But let's go anyway."

The train ride was quiet. Tenten stared out the window, watching the landscape blur past, thinking about all the times she and Neji had taken this same route.

He should be here. He should be sitting next to me. This is wrong.

When they arrived in Nagi, several other members of their friend group were already at the funeral home. Naruto, Shikamaru, Ino, Choji, Kiba, Shino and Lee were there murmuring their condolences to Tenten for her loss. Everyone wore black and looking shocked and sad and too young to be at a funeral for one of their own.

"How are you holding up?" Ino asked, hugging Tenten.

"I'm not. But I'm here."

They filed into the funeral home—a traditional space with tatami mats, incense burning, formal flower arrangements. Neji's casket was at the front, closed. The Hyuuga family had decided on a closed casket due to the nature of his injuries.

At least I don't have to see him like that, Tenten thought. At least I can remember him alive.

The room filled slowly with family, friends, some of Neji's university classmates, and workers from the labor union he'd helped organize. The Hyuuga family sat in the front row which included Hiashi, his wife, various executives and elders. They looked appropriately somber but distant. Like this was an obligation rather than genuine grief.

Neji’s father, Hizashi was so inconsolable at the news of his son’s death that he had fainted and was currently in a coma in Nagi hospital. Hinata arrived last.

She wore a black dress, her arm still in a cast, visible bruises on her face and arms from the accident. She looked fragile—pale, shaking, eyes red from crying. Naruto immediately went to her.

"Hinata. How are you?"

"I'm... I'm okay. As okay as I can be."

"Do you need to sit down? Should I get you water?"

"I'm fine. Thank you."

From across the room, Sakura watched the interaction with narrowed eyes.

Sasuke noticed and leaned closer to her "What are you thinking?"

"That she's playing up the fragility. She's hurt, yes. But the way she is acting seems…deliberate."

"You think she's faking?"

"I think she's exaggerating. For sympathy. Especially from Naruto."

"He's oblivious."

"Completely." Sakura's expression was troubled. "I know we don't have proof. I know we could be wrong. But something about this whole situation feels off."

"I know,” Sasuke responded quietly so only she could hear while putting an arm around her shoulder in order to bring her closer to him.

At 1 pm exactly, the funeral service began.

A Buddhist priest performed the traditional ceremonies—chanting sutras, burning incense, offering prayers for Neji's spirit. Then came the eulogies.

Hiashi Hyuuga spoke first—a cold, formal speech about family legacy, duty, and tragic loss. He barely mentioned Neji's activism or his principles. Instead, he spoke in vague platitudes about "a young man taken too soon" and "the importance of family."

It was a political speech, not a memorial. Several people in the audience shifted uncomfortably.

This is how they honor him? Tenten thought bitterly. With corporate speak and careful avoidance of what he actually stood for?

After Hiashi, one of Neji's labor union contacts spoke—a middle-aged construction worker who talked about Neji's courage, his commitment to justice, his willingness to stand up to his own family for what was right.

"Neji Hyuuga believed in the dignity of all workers. He fought for safety regulations when his family called it unnecessary expense. He stood on picket lines when his family called it embarrassment. He chose integrity over comfort, every single time. That's the Neji I'll remember. Not a tragic accident victim, but a young man who stood for something real."

The Hyuuga family looked distinctly uncomfortable. But the workers in attendance nodded, some wiping away tears.

That's the real Neji, Tenten thought. Not the sanitized version his family wants to present.

Then it was Tenten's turn. She walked to the front on shaking legs, holding note cards she'd written and rewritten dozens of times.

When she spoke, her voice was raw but steady.

"Neji Hyuuga was supposed to be my husband. We were supposed to get married in two weeks. Instead, I'm giving his eulogy." She paused, collecting herself. "I met Neji when we were very young. He was serious and driven and had walls up that seemed impossible to break through. But slowly, over the years, he let me in. He showed me who he really was—kind, thoughtful, passionate about justice, willing to fight for what was right even when it cost him everything."

She looked directly at the Hyuuga family.

"Neji stood up to his family because workers were dying on construction sites. He was disowned because he valued human life over profit margins. And even after being disowned, even after being cut off from family support, he never regretted it. He told me the night before he died that he was glad to be free of the family's corruption. That he'd rather have integrity than acceptance."

Hiashi's expression was stone cold.

"I loved Neji Hyuuga. I will always love him. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to honor his memory by standing up for what's right, the way he did. Even when it's hard. Even when it costs me. Because that's what he taught me—that integrity matters more than comfort. That truth matters more than convenience. That some things are worth fighting for, even if you lose."

She looked at the casket.

"I miss you. I'll always miss you. And I promise I'll never forget what you stood for."

She returned to her seat, barely holding herself together. Several other people spoke—friends, classmates, people whose lives Neji had touched. Then, finally, Hinata was asked to speak. She walked to the front slowly, carefully, playing up her injuries and fragility. When she spoke, her voice was small and sad.

"Neji-nii-san was my cousin. We grew up together. The night of the accident, we were driving back from a family meeting. He'd just been disowned for standing up for what he believed in. But he wasn't angry. He was at peace. He talked about Tenten, about the wedding, about the future. He was happy."

Her voice broke convincingly.

"I keep replaying that drive in my mind. Wishing I'd done something different. Wishing I'd insisted on driving, or that we'd stopped somewhere, or that I'd somehow prevented what happened. But I can't change it. All I can do is remember him—his courage, his kindness, his integrity. And try to honor his memory by being better. By standing up for what's right, the way he did."

She looked at Tenten with carefully crafted sympathy.

"I'm so sorry, Tenten. I'm sorry I couldn't save him. I'm sorry you lost him. I'm sorry the wedding won't happen. I'm sorry for everything."

Tenten nodded, tears streaming down her face, unable to speak. Hinata returned to her seat, and Naruto immediately squeezed her hand in support. From across the room, Sakura watched with cold assessment.

She's good. She's very good. But something is still wrong. I just can't prove it.

After the formal service, there was a reception in an adjacent room—traditional food, quiet conversation, people offering condolences to the family. The friend group clustered together in one corner, processing their grief collectively.

"I can't believe he's gone," Ino said quietly. "It doesn't feel real."

"It won't feel real for a long time," Shikamaru replied. "Grief is like that."

Naruto was still with Hinata, getting her food, making sure she was comfortable, treating her like she might break at any moment.

"He's being really attentive," Kiba observed.

"He's being a good friend," Choji countered. "She was in the accident. She's traumatized."

"I know. But..." Kiba glanced at where Tenten was sitting with Sakura. "Shouldn't he be focusing on Tenten? She lost her fiancé."

"He talked to Tenten earlier. He's allowed to help multiple people."

"I guess."

Across the room, Hinata was acutely aware of the attention she was getting—particularly from Naruto.

This is working. He's staying close. He's being protective.

She felt a twinge of guilt—using Neji's funeral as an opportunity to get closer to Naruto was objectively terrible. But the guilt was muted, distant, easily pushed aside.

Neji's dead regardless. Nothing I do now will change that.

The rationalization was weak, but it worked.

After the reception, there was a burial service at the Hyuuga family cemetery—a traditional plot on the edge of Nagi where generations of Hyuugas had been laid to rest. Neji's casket was lowered into the ground while the priest chanted final prayers. Tenten stood at the edge of the grave, staring down at the casket, and felt the finality of it hit her like a physical blow.

He's really gone. This is really happening. I'll never see him again.

She'd been holding herself together all day—through the service, through the reception, through all the condolences and sympathy. But standing at his grave, watching the casket descend into darkness, something inside her broke. She collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Sakura immediately dropped down beside her, holding her, letting her cry, offering what comfort she could.

"I can't do this," Tenten gasped between sobs. "I can't say goodbye. I'm not ready. I'll never be ready."

"You don't have to be ready," Sakura said gently. "You just have to survive today. That's all. Just today."

"And tomorrow?"

"And you will survive again Tomorrow. Just take it one day at a time."

They stayed there until Tenten had cried herself out, until she could stand again, until she could face walking away from that grave and leaving Neji behind. As they left the cemetery, Tenten looked back once.

Goodbye, Neji. I love you. I'll always love you.

Sasuke, Sakura, and Tenten took the evening train back to Tokyo. Tenten chose a seat in the corner, a distance away from Sakura and Sasuke claiming she wanted some time alone to reflect. She was emotionally, physically, and completely drained after the funeral.

Sasuke and Sakura sat together in silence for a while.

"She's going to need a lot of support," Sakura finally said.

"I know."

"I will check on her. Make sure she's not alone too much. Especially in the beginning."

"Agreed."

"Sasuke... what you said before. About suspecting something was off with Hinata's story."

"I still think something is off."

"Me too. But we don't have proof. And I don't know how we'd even begin to investigate without traumatizing Hinata further if we're wrong."

"I know. It's a difficult position."

"Should we tell Tenten? About our suspicions?"

Sasuke was quiet for a long moment.

"No. Not yet. Not unless we have something concrete. She's dealing with enough. The last thing she needs is us making her question whether Neji's death was really an accident."

"Even if it wasn't?"

"Even then. Unless we can prove it, all we'd be doing is adding doubt and suspicion to her grief. That's not helpful."

Sakura nodded slowly. "Okay. But if we find evidence—if anything comes to light that suggests Hinata was lying—"

"Then we tell Tenten immediately. And we pursue it, regardless of the consequences."

"Deal."

They clasped each other’s hands in solidarity—a promise made in the darkness of a train carrying them away from a funeral, away from a grave, away from a friend they'd never see again.

Hinata returned to her dorm that evening, exhausted from performing grief all day. Emi was waiting.

"How was it?"

"Horrible. Everything you'd expect from a funeral."

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"No. I just need to sleep."

But sleep didn't come easily.

Hinata lay in bed, replaying the day. She thought about Tenten's eulogy, the burial, the way Naruto had stayed close to her all day and held her hand. She thought about how warm his hand was…

Naruto lay in his dorm room that night, thinking about the funeral. About Neji—principled, brave Neji who'd stood up to his family and paid the ultimate price. About Tenten—devastated, broken Tenten who'd lost her future husband. About Hinata—traumatized, fragile Hinata who'd survived but was clearly suffering.

Life is so fragile, he thought. One moment you're planning a wedding, the next you're at a funeral.

It made him think about his own goals, his own future. He wanted to make a difference. Wanted to help people. He wanted to be mayor someday and make the city better. Neji had shown him what it meant to stand up for what was right, even when it cost you everything.

I want to be like that. I want to have that kind of integrity. I want to fight for justice, even when it's hard. Even when people try to stop me.

Chapter Text

Ages 19-30

Some stories don't unfold in dramatic moments. Sometimes, they unfold in the quiet accumulation of years. In choices made and not made. In relationships that slowly erode rather than explode.

Ages 19-20

The fall semester after Neji's death was strange for everyone. Returning to classes felt surreal—how could the world just continue? How could there be exams and assignments and normal college stress when someone was dead? But life did continue.

Because it had to.

Sasuke threw himself into his criminal justice program with renewed intensity. Every class about corruption, every discussion about holding powerful people accountable, felt personal now. His father had nearly died exposing corruption. Neji had died, possibly because of something more than an accident. Truth mattered. Justice mattered. He would dedicate his life to it.

Sakura was in her second year of pre-med, the workload crushing but manageable. She studied obsessively, determined to succeed, driven by the memory of loss.

"We have to make it matter," she told Sasuke one night as they studied together. "What happened to Neji. What happened to your father. We have to build lives that honor them."

"By being better than the people who hurt them."

"Exactly."

Tenten struggled more. She'd taken the semester off after Neji's death, unable to focus, unable to function. When she returned in the spring, she was different—harder, quieter, more determined. She'd switched her focus to labor rights.

This is what Neji fought for. I'll finish what he started.

Naruto was thriving. He'd won the election to be class representative again. He was involved in multiple political organizations. His professors loved him. His peers respected him. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

And Hinata was right beside him.

Study sessions that she arranged. Campaign events she volunteered for. Coffee dates that she initiated. She was always there. Always supportive. Always available.

Ages 20 - 21

Something changed during the third year of University. Naruto and Hinata started spending even more time together. He was stressed with demanding classes and student government responsibilities. She was always there to listen and to support him. To help him decompress.

"You get it," he said one evening after a particularly difficult day. "You understand what it's like to feel like the world doesn't make sense anymore."

"I do," Hinata said softly. "Neji's death... it changed everything for me."

"Me too. Losing him made me realize how fragile everything is. How important it is to appreciate the people in your life."

He took her hand and Hinata felt hope bloom in her chest.

Finally. After all these years. Finally.

In November of junior year, Naruto asked Hinata to dinner. Not a study session. Not a group hangout. An actual date.

"I've been thinking," he said. "We spend all this time together. And I really value you. You make everything better. So, I was wondering... would you want to try this? Us? As more than friends?"

Hinata's heart was pounding so hard she thought she might pass out.

"Yes," she managed. "I'd like that very much."

They started dating officially in December. It wasn't the passionate love story Hinata had imagined for fifteen years. It was quieter. More practical. Two people who'd known each other forever, who were comfortable together, who filled needs in each other's lives. Naruto needed support and understanding. Hinata needed validation and purpose after fifteen years of obsession. It worked.

Sort of.

When news spread that Naruto and Hinata were dating, reactions were mixed.

Ino: "So all that she spent pining after him was not in vain. Good for them I guess!"

Kiba: "Huh. Didn't see that coming...."

Choji: "As long as they're happy."

But others were less enthusiastic.

Sakura, for instance, had some reservations which she promptly expressed to Sasuke one afternoon, "Something about this feels wrong."

"Because of what we suspect about the accident?"

"Partly. But also... I've watched Hinata for years. The way she looks at Naruto…it can be obsessive."

"But we can't prove anything about the accident. And we can't control who Naruto dates."

"I know. But I don't like it."

Sasuke didn't like it either. But what could they do? Naruto was an adult making his own choices. Even if those choices seemed questionable.

Ages 22 - 23

Everyone graduated on schedule.

Sasuke earned his Criminal Justice degree, with honors, and had multiple job offers from investigation firms. Sakura had completed her Pre-med courses and was accepted to Tokyo University Medical School. Tenten finished her Social Work degree and was already working with labor organizations. Naruto graduated with a Political Science degree and was already planning his next steps in local Nagi politics. Hinata had finally picked a major and settled on Education, but had no real career plans or aspirations other than to immerse herself in Naruto’s life.

Sasuke and Sakura married two months after graduation in a small ceremony in Tokyo.

They invited their immediate family and close friends. Naruto was invited and he came with Hinata. There was an awkward atmosphere when the pair came. The friendship that had once been so easy, so natural, now felt somewhat strained. Sakura and Sasuke having kept their distance from Naruto ever since he announced his relationship with Hinata.

The respective couples made small talk and exchanged pleasantries. They even took a photo together. But the atmosphere was stilted. The warmth was replaced by something polite but distant.

"Congratulations," Naruto said. "I'm really happy for you guys."

"Thanks," Sasuke replied. "Good luck with your political career."

"Thanks,” Naruto responded with a jovial grin.

After the wedding, Sakura asked Sasuke "Are you okay? You seemed tense around Naruto?"

"I'm fine. We've grown apart. It happens."

"You guys were best friends since you were six."

"I don’t know. He’s changed. Or maybe he was always like this and I just didn't see it."

"Like what?"

"I have noticed in the past year, ever since he got into a relationship, he seems more concerned about his image than he used to be. He doesn’t seem…genuine anymore."

"You think he's become like that?"

"Maybe I’m just overthinking it…."

Ages 24 - 25

After graduation, Naruto went straight into politics. He worked as a staffer for the local legislator he'd worked with on a part time basis. Then ran for Nagi City Council at age 24. He won easily—young, charismatic, full of promises about transparency and change.

"I want to make Nagi better," he said in his victory speech, his smile was wide and practiced. "I want to fight for working families. I want to bring real change to our city government."

He sounded sincere. But Sasuke, watching the speech on TV from his and Sakura’s shared Tokyo apartment, felt uneasy.

"He's good at this," Sakura observed. "The speeches. The image. The performance."

"Too good," Sasuke replied. "It feels rehearsed."

"He's a politician. That's the job."

"I know. But there's a difference between being good at communication and being... empty. All style, no substance."

"Give him time. He just started."

But Sasuke's instincts were rarely wrong.

Naruto proposed to Hinata at a fancy restaurant, with photographers conveniently nearby. The proposal made the local news: "City Councilman Uzumaki Engaged to Childhood Sweetheart." The photos were perfect. The story was perfect.The optics were perfect.

When Sasuke saw the news, he felt a twist in his gut.

Childhood sweetheart. They're selling a narrative. But is any of it real?

He didn't know. But he suspected not.

Naruto and Hinata married in a big, public ceremony in Nagi. There were 700 hundred guests. The Media was covering the wedding. Political figures from across the region were invited to attend. It was more a political event rather than a wedding. Sasuke and Sakura attended because not going would cause drama. But they left early.

"That was exhausting," Sakura said on the train back to Tokyo. "Everything was so... performed. So calculated."

"That's Naruto now. Everything is calculated."

"Do you miss him? The old Naruto?"

Sasuke was quiet for a long moment.

"I miss the person I thought he was. But I'm not sure that person ever really existed."

While Naruto was building his political career, Sasuke and Sakura were building something different. Sasuke worked for a prestigious investigation firm, building a reputation for thoroughness and integrity. He specialized in corporate corruption cases—following in his father's footsteps.

Sakura was in medical school, then residency. It consisted of brutal hours and intense pressure. But she was brilliant at it. She had natural surgeon's hands and a sharp mind. They lived in a small Tokyo apartment and they worked constantly. They rarely had time to see each other through the work week but when they did, they were solid.

"We should plan for a baby soon," Sakura said one evening. "Before I'm too old and too busy."

"I thought you wanted to finish residency first?"

"I did. But I'm twenty-five. The clock is ticking. And I want kids while we're young enough to keep up with them."

"Okay. Let's start trying."

"Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that. You're ready. I'm ready. Let's do it."

Ages 25 - 26

Naruto announced his candidacy for mayor.

"Nagi deserves leadership that puts people first," he declared. "Leadership that fights for transparency, for justice, for working families. I want to be that leader."

The campaign was slick, professional and well-funded. Naruto had backing from business leaders, labor unions, community organizations. He promised everything to everyone. And people believed him.

Naruto won in a landslide. At twenty-six, he became the youngest mayor in Nagi's history. The celebration was massive. The media coverage was glowing.

"A new generation of leadership," the headlines read.

Sasuke watched the coverage with mixed feelings.

Part of him was proud—his childhood friend had achieved his lifelong dream. Part of him was apprehensive—power would reveal who Naruto really was.

"He'll have to make hard choices now," Sasuke said to Sakura. "We'll see what he's really made of."

Three months after the election, Hinata gave birth to a son that Naruto named Boruto. The timing was suspiciously convenient. The photos of Naruto holding his son were immediately used in political messaging: "Mayor Uzumaki—Family Man Leading Our City."

Naruto held his son at press conferences and posted family photos constantly. Sasuke found it distasteful.

"He's using his kid as a prop."

"Maybe he's just proud," Sakura suggested.

"Maybe. But everything he does, it feels calculated."

Sasuke and Sakura welcomed their daughter Sarada Uchiha a month after Naruto had his first child.

Sarada was born in a Tokyo hospital, with no media coverage, and just family to greet her. The first time Sasuke held her, he felt something shift.

I need to be better. For her. I need to build a world where truth and integrity matter. Because she's going to grow up in whatever world we create.

Sakura, exhausted but glowing whipered, "She's perfect."

"She is."

"We're going to raise her right. With values. With integrity."

"Yes."

They looked at their daughter, tiny and perfect and full of possibility.

"She's going to be better than all of us," Sasuke said.

And he meant it.

Ages 27 - 28

Naruto's first year was considered successful by most measures. He was accessible. Friendly. Good at constituent services. He avoided controversy. Made safe decisions. Kept approval ratings high. But he also avoided anything difficult.

A controversial development project that would displace low-income families? He abstained from the vote. A police misconduct case that needed investigation? He deferred to "ongoing processes." A corruption allegation against a city council member? He called for "fairness and due process" but didn't actually investigate.

He talked about justice constantly. But never actually fought for it when it cost him something. Sasuke noticed all of this.

"He's all talk. When it matters, when taking a stand would be risky, he disappears."

"Give him time. He's still new," Sakura said.

"He's not new. He's showing you who he is. Believe him."

Age 28

Hinata gave birth to a daughter called Himawari Uzumaki. More perfect family photos followed. There was even more political messaging.

"Mayor Uzumaki balancing leadership and fatherhood."

The image was everything Naruto had always wanted. Successful. Respected. Perfect family. But there were cracks showing in the way Naruto's smile didn't quite reach his eyes in photos. The way every "personal" moment was staged for cameras.

Age 29 

In a calculated PR move, Mayor Uzumaki announced he was taking in a troubled youth through the foster system.

Kawaki—a thirteen-year-old with a difficult background, no family, no support.

"Everyone deserves a chance," Naruto said at the press conference. "I want to show that our city cares about every child."

The headlines were glowing: "Mayor Opens Home to Foster Child."

But the reality was different. Kawaki wasn't adopted. He was a guest. A project. A PR tool. He lived in the Uzumaki household but wasn't really part of the family. Boruto, now two years old, was the center of attention. The real son. The heir. Himawari was the baby. The princess. The darling. Kawaki was the outsider who made the mayor look compassionate. It was cruel. But no one outside the family knew that. The image was all that mattered.

The honeymoon period ended. Difficult decisions needed to be made. And Naruto was failing every test.

A corruption scandal involving a city contractor? Naruto called for "independent review" but blocked actual investigation. A labor dispute where workers were being exploited? Naruto gave speeches about "workers' rights" but didn't actually help. A police shooting of an unarmed civilian? Naruto called for "calm" and "letting the process work" instead of demanding accountability.

Every time, he chose the politically safe option. Every time, he prioritized his image over doing what was right. Sasuke watched it all from Tokyo and felt disgust growing.

"This is who he really is. This is who he's always been. I just didn't see it."

"Maybe he'll grow into the job," Sakura suggested, though she now sounded doubtful.

"He's not going to grow. He's going to get worse. Because politics rewards this behavior. The more he prioritizes optics over truth, the more successful he becomes."

"That's depressing."

"That's reality."

Age 30 

Late one evening, Sasuke's phone rang.

It was Itachi.

"We have a problem."

Sasuke's stomach dropped. "What kind of problem?"

"Someone's been digging into Father's old corruption case. Asking questions. Looking for holes in the evidence."

"After ten years? Why now?"

"I don't know. But I'm worried. These are the same people whose careers Father destroyed. Some of them have rebuilt power, made new connections over the past decade. If they're looking for revenge—"

"We need to warn Father."

"I already did. He's being careful. But Sasuke..."

"What?"

"Some of these people have connections to the mayor's office now. To Naruto's administration."

Silence.

"That doesn't mean Naruto is involved—"

"No," Itachi said carefully. "But it means if something happens, if Father is targeted again, Naruto might not be on our side. His political interests might not align with the truth."

Sasuke felt ice in his veins.

"Then we prepare for that and we document everything. We make sure if anything happens, we have evidence. We protect Father as best we can."

"Agreed. But Sasuke—I hope I'm wrong. I hope your friend is still the person you grew up with."

Sasuke looked across the room at Sakura, who was holding sleeping Sarada.

"I’m not sure Naruto and I are even friends now, Itachi."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

After hanging up, Sasuke sat in silence for a long moment. Sakura came over, Sarada still sleeping in her arms.

"What's wrong?"

"Itachi thinks someone is going after Father again. Building a case against him. Trying to discredit his old work."

"After all this time?"

"Revenge doesn't have a statute of limitations."

"And Naruto?"

"Might have connections to the people doing it."

"Will he help us if something happens?"

Sasuke looked at his wife and daughter.

"No. He won't. When it matters—when standing up for the truth would cost him politically—he'll choose his career. Every time."

"How do you know?"

"Because he already has. Multiple times. This will just be the biggest test yet."

Sakura sat beside him.

"Then we prepare and make sure your father is protected. And we hope for the best."

"And prepare for the worst."

"Yes."

They sat together in the darkness, holding their daughter, preparing for the storm they both knew was coming.

Chapter Text

Ages 30 - 31

Fugaku Uchiha was sixty-two years old and mostly retired. He still took occasional consulting work, helping other investigators with complex cases, providing expert testimony in corruption trials. But the intense, dangerous work of his younger years was behind him. He'd survived an assassination attempt. Built a legendary reputation. Raised two sons who followed in his footsteps. He'd earned his peace. But peace isn't guaranteed.

Especially when you've made enemies of powerful people. The first sign came in the form of a news article.

"Questions Raised About Decade-Old Corruption Case"

Fugaku read it over breakfast, coffee growing cold as he absorbed the implications.

"New analysis of the evidence from the landmark corruption case that implicated many corporations has revealed potential irregularities. Documents that formed the basis of the prosecution may have been obtained through questionable means. Sources close to the investigation suggest that private investigator Fugaku Uchiha, who built the case, may have crossed ethical and legal lines to secure evidence..."

Fugaku set down the paper. His hands were shaking. He called Itachi immediately.

"Did you see the article?"

"I saw it. I'm looking into where it came from."

"This is the beginning, isn't it? The retaliation…."

"Yes. Someone is coming after you. They're trying to discredit the case, which discredits you, which potentially invalidates all the convictions."

"But the evidence was solid. Everything was obtained legally—"

"I know. But they're going to claim it wasn't. They're going to manufacture doubt. And they're going to do it very publicly."

"What do I do?"

"Document everything. Every piece of evidence, every source, every method you used. We're going to need to prove your work was legitimate."

"I kept records. Everything is documented."

"Good. Because this is going to get worse before it gets better."

Itachi was right. It got much worse.

Over the next month, more articles appeared.

Different publications. Different journalists.

But all with the same basic message: Fugaku Uchiha's famous corruption case was built on fabricated evidence.

"Former Detective Claims Evidence Was Planted"

"Witnesses in Corruption Case Say They Were Coerced"

The articles were sophisticated and well-researched. They seemed convincing on the surface.

They cited "anonymous sources." Referenced "new analysis" of old evidence. Quoted "experts" who questioned forensic methods. It was a coordinated attack. Whoever was behind it had resources, connections, and a plan.

Mikoto watched her husband growing more stressed each day.

"You need to fight back," she said. "Publicly. Defend yourself."

"I am fighting back. Itachi and Sasuke are helping me gather documentation—"

"That's not enough. You need to hold a press conference. Show the evidence. Explain your methods."

"The evidence is too technical. The media doesn't care about details. They care about narrative. And the narrative right now is that I'm corrupt."

"Then change the narrative."

"I don't know how."

For the first time in his life, Fugaku Uchiha felt helpless. He'd faced down violent criminals. Survived an assassination attempt. Built cases against the most powerful people in the region. But he'd never faced a sophisticated media campaign designed to destroy his reputation. And he didn't know how to fight it.

In early December, the attack escalated. Someone leaked documents to the press.

"Shocking Evidence: Investigator Fugaku Uchiha Fabricated Key Documents in Corruption Case"

The documents appeared to show falsified timestamps on surveillance footage, altered financial records, forged signatures on witness statements and payments to witnesses in exchange for testimony. The documents were sophisticated forgeries. But they were convincing and the media ran with them.

Suddenly, Fugaku wasn't just being questioned. He was being accused of serious crimes. Fabricating evidence. Bribing witnesses. Obstruction of justice. Criminal charges were being discussed. The police—some of whom Fugaku had worked with for decades—were being pressured to investigate. And the public was turning against him.

"I can't believe we trusted him."

"He destroyed people's lives with fake evidence."

"He should go to prison."

The court of public opinion had already convicted him.

Sasuke watched the media circus from Tokyo with growing horror. His father—a man of absolute integrity—was being destroyed by lies. And Sasuke knew exactly who was behind it. The same people his father had exposed a decade ago. The ones who'd tried to have him killed. They'd just found a better weapon, character assassination.

On a cold December evening, Sasuke made a decision. He called Naruto. They hadn't spoken in months. Their friendship was barely alive. But Naruto was the mayor. He had influence. Connections. The ability to push back against this kind of attack. If anyone was in a position to help his father, it was Naruto.

"Sasuke?" Naruto sounded surprised. "It's been a while. What's up?"

"I need your help. My father is being framed."

"I've seen the news. Those allegations are pretty serious—"

"They're lies. All of it. Someone is manufacturing evidence to discredit him."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know my father. Because I've reviewed his original case files. Because the 'evidence' that's being leaked has obvious forgeries that anyone with forensic training can spot."

Silence on the line.

"Naruto, you know my father. You've known him since we were kids. You know he's not corrupt."

"I thought I knew him. But the evidence seems pretty convincing—"

"It's manufactured evidence! That's the whole point! Someone with resources and connections is trying to destroy him!"

"Then he should defend himself in court. Let the system work."

Sasuke felt his chest tighten.

"The system is being manipulated. The people doing this have connections to city government, to the prosecutor's office, to—" He stopped. "Naruto, some of these people have donated to your campaigns. They're part of your political network."

"That doesn't mean I'm involved—"

"I'm not saying you're involved. I'm asking you to publicly defend him. You're the mayor. If you spoke up, said you believed in his integrity, it would matter. It would give people pause."

"Sasuke, I can't just insert myself into an ongoing investigation—"

"There is no investigation yet! It's just a media trial! And you can stop it from becoming an actual prosecution if you speak up NOW!"

"I can't take sides before all the facts are in—"

"YOU KNOW THE FACTS!" Sasuke was shouting now. "You've known my father for twenty years! You KNOW he's not corrupt! This isn't about facts—it's about you being willing to stand up for what's right when it might cost you something!"

Silence.

Then Naruto's voice, carefully controlled, "I'm sorry about what your father is going through. But I can't make public statements about an active case. It wouldn't be appropriate given my position."

"Your position as what? Mayor? Or politician who's more concerned with optics than truth?"

"That's not fair—"

"It’s not? When have you ever taken a stand on anything that might hurt you politically? You talk about justice constantly in your speeches but when it actually matters, you disappear behind 'let the process work' and 'it wouldn't be appropriate.'"

"I'm trying to be responsible—"

"You're trying to be safe. There's a difference."

Again, there was silence.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke. I can't help you with this. But I hope everything works out for your father."

The platitude was the final straw.

"Don't." Sasuke's voice was cold. "Don't give me empty sympathy. Either help or admit you're choosing your political career over doing what's right. But don't insult me with 'I hope everything works out.'"

"Sasuke—"

"We're done. You and me. This friendship. It's over."

"Come on, you're upset, you don't mean—"

"I mean it completely. The person I thought you were—the one who stood up for what was right, who fought for justice, who valued truth over convenience—that person doesn't exist. Maybe he never did. What's left is just a politician who says what people want to hear but never actually does anything."

"That's not true—"

"Prove it. Make a statement defending my father. Take a stand. Show me I'm wrong."

Sasuke waited.

Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

No response.

"That's what I thought. Goodbye, Naruto."

He hung up. And felt something inside him break completely. The friendship that had survived years, distance, different paths—

It was over.

Killed by Naruto's cowardice.

After the call ended, Naruto sat in his mayor's office, staring at his phone. Part of him wanted to call Sasuke back. To say he'd help. To make a public statement defending Fugaku.

But another part—the political part that had grown stronger with each passing year—thought it over. Fugaku Uchiha was being accused of serious crimes. The evidence against him looked convincing. Public opinion was turning.

If Naruto defended him and the accusations turned out to be true or were successfully prosecuted even if false, it would damage Naruto's reputation.

"The mayor defended a corrupt investigator."

It could hurt his re-election chances. Could cost him political capital with important donors and make him look naive or complicit. The safe move was to stay silent. Let "the process work." He had to remain neutral and don't take sides. It was what his political advisors would recommend.

Hinata found him sitting there an hour later.

"What's wrong?"

"Sasuke called. He wants me to publicly defend his father."

"Are you going to?"

"I don't know. It's complicated. Do you think I should defend Fugaku?"

"I think you should do what helps your career. Defending him is risky. Staying silent is safe. So stay silent."

"That feels wrong."

"But it's smart. And isn't that what matters? Staying in power so you can help people?" Her tone was supportive and full of devotion.

Naruto flinched inwardly. Soon after, she left him sitting there. He made his choice.

He would stay silent.

Three days after Sasuke's phone call, Mayor Uzumaki's office issued a statement:

"Mayor Uzumaki is aware of the serious allegations against former investigator Fugaku Uchiha. While the mayor has great respect for Mr. Uchiha's past service to the community, he believes these allegations must be thoroughly investigated. The mayor has full confidence in the prosecutor's office to handle this matter appropriately and fairly. As this is an ongoing investigation, the mayor will not be commenting further at this time."

It was perfectly crafted political speak. It sounded responsible neutral fair. But it was devastating. Because what it didn't say mattered more than what it did.

It didn't defend Fugaku. Didn't vouch for his integrity. Didn't question the manufactured evidence. Didn't use the mayor's platform to push back against the smear campaign.

It just... stepped aside. Let the attack continue unchallenged.

When Sasuke read the statement, he felt something cold settle in his chest.

"He chose his career. Just like I knew he would."

Sakura read it beside him. "I'm sorry. I hoped he'd surprise you."

"I just... I needed to confirm what I already knew. That the person I called my friend for twenty-four years doesn't actually exist."

"What do we do now?"

"We prove Father is innocent and expose whoever is doing this. And we do it without Naruto's help."

"And your friendship?"

"Is dead. Finally, officially, completely dead."

The new year brought no relief. The allegations against Fugaku continued. The prosecutor's office—under political pressure—opened an official investigation. Fugaku was called in for questioning.

His finances were subpoenaed. His old case files were seized. It was a nightmare. And the stress was destroying him.

Mikoto watched her husband deteriorate before her eyes. He wasn't sleeping. Barely eating. Constantly stressed. His blood pressure was through the roof. He'd had several chest pains—nothing serious yet, but warning signs.

"You need to see a doctor," she insisted.

"I don't have time—"

"You need to see a doctor now. Before this kills you."

"It's just stress. Once we prove I'm innocent—"

"Once you're dead, it won't matter if you're innocent!"

But Fugaku was stubborn. He'd fight through this. He'd survive like he'd survived everything else. He'd prove his innocence and restore his reputation. He just needed time.

Time that he didn’t have.

On a cold January evening, Fugaku was home alone—Mikoto had gone to buy groceries, would be back in an hour. He was reviewing documents for his defense. Trying to organize evidence in order to prove his methods had been legitimate.

His chest had been hurting all day. But he'd ignored it. It was just stress caused by anxiety. Nothing serious.

Until suddenly a pain hit like a lightning bolt. It felt crushing. The pain was overwhelming and it radiated down his left arm.

He was having a heart attack. He scrambled for his phone and managed to call emergency services.

"I—I'm having chest pain. Severe. I think—"

He collapsed before he could finish.

The emergency operator stayed on the line, dispatching an ambulance, but there was nothing they could do remotely. Mikoto found him twenty minutes later when she came home. Found him on the floor. Still breathing. Barely. The ambulance arrived minutes later. But it was too late.

Fugaku Uchiha died en route to the hospital. He was sixty-two years old. A man of absolute integrity. Destroyed by lies he didn't have the strength to fight.

Sasuke was at work when his phone rang. His mother's number. Something in his gut told him before he even answered.

"Mom?"

"Sasuke." Her voice was broken, "Your father—he's—"

"What happened?"

"Heart attack. He—he didn't make it. He's gone."

The world stopped.

"What?"

"He's dead, Sasuke. Your father is dead."

Sasuke heard the words but couldn't process them.

His father. Dead.

"I'm coming. I'm coming right now. Stay there. I'll be there in two hours."

He hung up and called Sakura.

"My father is dead. Heart attack. I need to go to Nagi right now."

"I'm coming with you. I'll meet you at home in twenty minutes."

"Sakura—"

"I'm coming. Don't argue."

She hung up. Sasuke sat in his office, phone in hand, and felt reality fracture. His father was dead.

The man who'd taught him everything. Who'd survived an assassination attempt. Who'd dedicated his life to truth and justice. Dead.

Killed by stress. By lies. By a character assassination he didn't have the strength to survive. And Naruto had let it happen. Had stayed silent when speaking up might have stopped it. Had chosen political safety over his friend's father's life. The rage that filled Sasuke in that moment was cold and absolute.

This is Naruto's fault. Not completely. But partially. He could have helped and chose not to. And now Father is dead.

He would never forgive that. Never.

Chapter Text

Age 31

There's a particular kind of grief that comes from losing someone to injustice. It's not just the loss. It's the rage. The knowledge that it didn't have to happen. That if people had acted differently, made different choices, stood up when it mattered—

Your loved one would still be alive. That rage is corrosive. It changes you.

The days after Fugaku's death were a blur of necessary tasks. Sasuke took emergency leave from work. Sakura arranged for coverage at the hospital. They packed Sarada into the car—she was three years old, too young to understand what was happening, but old enough to sense the grief around her. The drive to Nagi felt both endless and too fast.

Sasuke didn't want to arrive. Didn't want to face the reality of his father being gone. But they arrived anyway. Mikoto met them at the door—she looked like she'd aged ten years in two days.

"I'm so sorry," she said, hugging Sasuke. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this."

"It's not your fault."

"I should have made him see a doctor sooner. I should have—"

"Mom. Stop. This isn't your fault. It's the fault of the people who framed him. And the people who stayed silent while it happened."

Mikoto heard the venom in his voice.

"Naruto?"

"Yes."

She nodded slowly. "I saw his statement. The one where he called for an 'investigation' instead of defending your father."

"Political cowardice disguised as neutrality."

"Will he come to the funeral?"

"I don't know. I don't care. If he does, I'll treat him with the courtesy he deserves—none."

Sasuke's phone rang early the next morning. Unknown number, but he answered anyway—too many arrangements being made to screen calls.

"Sasuke Uchiha."

"Sasuke. It's Naruto."

Silence. Sasuke almost hung up. But something made him stay on the line.

"I just heard about your father. I'm so sorry. I know how much he meant to you. I wanted to call and offer my condolences. And to let you know that if there's anything I can do—"

"There was something you could do. Weeks ago. When I called and asked for your help. You chose not to."

"Sasuke, I understand you're upset, but—"

"Upset? I'm not upset. Upset is what you feel when someone cuts you off in traffic. What I am is furious. My father is dead because he couldn't handle the stress of being falsely accused. And you could have helped stop that. You could have used your platform, your influence, your position to push back against the smear campaign. But you didn't. Because it might have cost you politically."

"That's not fair—"

"It's completely fair. You made a choice. You chose your political career over my father's life. And now he's dead."

"I didn't—that's not—I couldn't have known—"

"You knew the stress was killing him. Everyone knew. It was obvious. And you still chose to stay silent. So don't call me offering condolences like we're friends. We're not friends. We will never be friends again."

"Sasuke, please—"

"Are you planning to attend the funeral?"

"I... I was planning to, yes. To pay my respects."

"Don't. You're not welcome. If you show up, I will have you removed."

"You can't be serious—"

"I'm completely serious. You don't get to play the sympathetic friend now. You made your choice. Live with it."

Sasuke hung up.

His hands were shaking.

Sakura appeared in the doorway. "Was that him?"

"Yes."

"What did he want?"

"To offer condolences. To pretend he's still a friend and to show up at the funeral and look sympathetic for the cameras."

"Are you going to let him come?"

"Absolutely not. He stays away or I'll make a scene."

"Good. He doesn't deserve to be there."

When Naruto's office was informed that he was not welcome at Fugaku Uchiha's funeral, there was a brief scramble.

"This looks bad," one of his advisors said. "Refusing to attend the funeral of a longtime family friend? The optics are terrible."

"I'm not refusing. I was uninvited."

"That's even worse! It suggests there's bad blood. People will ask questions."

"Then we issue a statement. Say that I'm respecting the family's wishes for privacy during their grief."

"And if reporters ask why the family doesn't want you there?"

"We say 'no comment' and change the subject. This isn't complicated."

But internally, Naruto was unsettled. Sasuke's rage had been palpable over the phone.

"You chose your political career over my father's life."

Was that true?

Naruto tried to convince himself it wasn't. He couldn't have known Fugaku would die. Couldn't have predicted that the stress would cause a heart attack. He couldn't have stopped it even if he'd spoken up.

But a small voice in the back of his mind whispered: But you could have tried. You could have at least tried.

He pushed the voice away. What was done was done. Fugaku was dead. Sasuke hated him. The friendship was over. Nothing he could do about it now except move forward. That's what politicians did. They moved forward.

Fugaku Uchiha's funeral was held at a traditional temple in Nagi. Unlike Neji's funeral—which had been controlled by the Hyuuga family and felt cold and political—this funeral was exactly what Fugaku would have wanted. Simple and dignified.

The turnout was smaller than it might have been. The allegations against Fugaku had scared some people away, worried about being associated with someone accused of corruption. But the people who did attend were genuine.

Former colleagues. Investigators who'd worked with him. People whose lives he'd changed by exposing corruption. Workers from the old Hyuuga Corporation labor union—people Neji had helped organize—who remembered that Fugaku had supported that work.

The service was Buddhist, traditional, respectful.

Itachi gave the main eulogy—his voice steady but his eyes red.

"Fugaku Uchiha was a man of absolute integrity. In a world where truth is often treated as negotiable, where powerful people can buy their way out of consequences, he stood firm. He dedicated his life to exposing corruption, to holding the powerful accountable, to ensuring that justice wasn't just for those who could afford it."

He paused, emotion cracking through his controlled exterior.

"He paid a price for that integrity. He was attacked. He was nearly killed. And in the end, he was destroyed by lies from the same people he'd exposed years ago. They couldn't beat him with violence, so they used character assassination. And it worked. It killed him just as surely as if they'd pulled the trigger."

Another pause.

"But they didn't destroy what he built. The cases he solved still stand. The people he put in prison are still there. The corruption he exposed is still exposed. His legacy is intact, even if his reputation was temporarily damaged. And we—his sons, his wife, his colleagues, everyone who knew him—we will clear his name. We will prove he was framed. And we will make sure history remembers him as the man he truly was: a hero who fought for truth when others chose silence."

That last line—"when others chose silence"—was pointed.

Everyone in the room knew who Itachi was referring to.The mayor who'd stayed silent. Who'd refused to defend Fugaku. Who'd chosen political safety over truth. After the eulogy, several others spoke. A former police detective who'd worked with Fugaku for twenty years. An anti-corruption activist who credited Fugaku with teaching her investigative methods. A labor organizer who Fugaku had quietly helped with cases involving workers' rights.

Each one spoke about his integrity, his dedication, his refusal to compromise. Then Sasuke was invited to speak. He walked to the front slowly, looking at his father's photograph—strong, serious, dedicated. When he spoke, his voice was steady but cold.

"My father taught me that truth matters more than comfort. That integrity matters more than approval. That standing up for what's right matters more than staying safe."

He looked directly at the crowd.

"He also taught me that silence in the face of injustice is complicity. That when you have power and choose not to use it to help people, you're responsible for what happens to them. That political calculation is just another word for cowardice."

Several people shifted uncomfortably. Other were attentive.

"My father was destroyed by powerful people who manufactured lies. But he was also failed by people who could have helped him and chose not to. People who valued their political careers more than truth. People who talked about justice constantly but ran away when actually standing up for it would cost them something."

His eyes swept the crowd, as if looking for someone who wasn't there.

"Those people will have to live with their choices. With knowing they could have helped and didn't. With knowing that their silence contributed to his death. I hope it weighs on them. I hope they never have a peaceful night's sleep again."

The anger was barely contained.

"But we—the people who loved Fugaku Uchiha, who learned from him, who were inspired by him—we will continue his work. We will expose the people who framed him. We will clear his name. And we will make sure that his legacy is truth, not the lies his enemies tried to create."

He looked at his father's photo one last time.

"I love you, Dad. And I promise—I will make this right."

He returned to his seat. The silence in the room was heavy. Everyone understood what Sasuke had been saying and everyone knew who he'd been saying it about.

The burial was private—just immediate family and very close friends. Sasuke, Sakura, Itachi, Mikoto. Sarada was with Sakura's parents—too young to be at a burial. As Fugaku's casket was lowered into the ground, Mikoto broke down completely. Sasuke put his arm around his mother, holding her up as she sobbed.

"He didn't deserve this," she gasped. "He was a good man. He did everything right. And they killed him anyway."

"I know, Mom. I know."

"It's not fair."

"No. It's not."

After the burial, after most people had left, Sasuke stood at his father's grave alone.

Itachi found him there an hour later.

"We need to talk about what happens next."

"I know. We clear his name. We prove he was framed. We expose everyone involved."

"Yes. But it's going to take time. Months. Maybe years."

"I don't care. However long it takes."

"And Naruto?"

Sasuke's expression went cold. "What about him?"

"He's been calling. Wanting to talk. Wanting to... I don't know. Apologize? Explain?"

"I don't want to hear it. He made his choice. We're done."

"Completely done? After twenty-four years of friendship?"

"After twenty-four years of me being wrong about who he really was. The person I thought I knew doesn't exist. What's left is just a politician who says whatever is convenient."

Sasuke looked at his brother. "He could have helped Dad. One statement from the mayor defending him, questioning the allegations, using his platform to push back—it might have been enough. It might have stopped the prosecution. It might have reduced the stress enough that Dad would still be alive."

"You can't know that—"

"I know that he didn't even try. He chose silence. Chose safety. And now Dad is dead." Sasuke's voice was hard. "So yes, our friendship is dead. Completely."

Itachi nodded slowly. "Okay. Then we focus on clearing Dad's name. Making sure he's remembered as a hero, not a fraud."

"How long do you think it will take?"

"The evidence trail is complex. Whoever framed him did a good job covering their tracks. But they made mistakes. Small ones. We'll find them."

"And when we do?"

"We expose everything. Publicly. We make sure the people responsible pay."

"Good. Because they need to pay. Dad deserves that much."

They stood at the grave together for a while longer. Then Itachi spoke again. "Are you going back to Tokyo?"

"Tomorrow. I need to get back to work. Sakura needs to get back to the hospital. And Sarada needs routine."

"Stay in touch. I'll send you updates as we progress with the investigation."

"I will."

"And Sasuke?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you. The speech you gave. The way you're handling this. Dad would be proud too."

Sasuke nodded; throat tight. "Thanks."

After Itachi left, Sasuke stood alone at his father's grave.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from this. I'm sorry the world is so corrupt that good men like you get destroyed while cowards and liars thrive."

The grave, of course, didn't answer.

"But I promise—I will make this right. I will clear your name. I will expose the people who did this. And I will never, ever forgive the people who could have helped and chose not to."

He placed his hand on the gravestone.

"Rest now. I'll take it from here."

The drive back to Tokyo was quiet. Sarada was asleep in her car seat. Sakura was driving. Sasuke stared out the window.

"Talk to me," Sakura finally said. "What are you thinking?"

"That everything I believed about friendship was wrong.That loyalty is rare. That most people will choose convenience over truth every single time."

"Not everyone. I didn't. Itachi didn't…”

"No you guys didn’t…but most people don't."

"Are you going to become cynical? Bitter?"

"I'm going to be practical. I'm going to stop trusting people who haven't earned it. I'm going to stop believing that good intentions matter if people don't back them up with actions."

Sakura was quiet for a moment. "What about Naruto? Is there any chance—"

"No. None. He had his chance to show who he really was. He showed me. I believe him."

"Okay. Then we move forward without him."

"Yes."

"And we clear your father's name."

"Yes."

"However long it takes."

"However long it takes."

They drove through the darkness, heading back to Tokyo, to their life, to the future. Behind them, Nagi was receding in the rearview mirror. Ahead of them, years of investigation and slow revelation. But they would do it. They would clear Fugaku's name. And they would never, ever forgive the people who'd stayed silent when it mattered most.

Naruto saw the local news coverage of Fugaku's funeral. Saw Sasuke's speech—though the cameras hadn't caught all of it, just snippets.

"Silence in the face of injustice is complicity."

"People who valued their political careers more than truth."

"I hope they never have a peaceful night's sleep again."

The words hit harder than Naruto wanted to admit. Hinata found him watching the coverage late one night.

"Still thinking about him?"

"He was my best friend for twenty-four years."

"And now he hates you."

"Yes."

Naruto thought about everything that had happened. His approval ratings were still good. His political future was still bright. He'd protected himself from association with a "corrupt investigator." But he'd destroyed a friendship that had meant something. And late at night, alone with his thoughts, he wondered if Sasuke was right. If he'd become exactly the kind of politician he'd always claimed to despise. All talk, no action. All image, no substance. Someone who said what people wanted to hear but ran away when taking a stand would cost something. But he couldn't admit that. Not to himself. So, he pushed the thoughts away. Told himself he'd made the right choice. That Fugaku's death wasn't his fault. That Sasuke was being unfair.

Politicians were good at rationalizing.

While Naruto tried to move past the controversy, Sasuke and Itachi began their investigation. They hired an independent forensic examiner to review the "evidence" against Fugaku. They traced the documents back to their source. They interviewed witnesses who'd been "quoted" in the media. And slowly, carefully, they built their case. The forgeries were sophisticated but not perfect. Digital timestamps that didn't quite match. Signatures that were close but not exact. Witnesses who claimed they'd never said what they were quoted as saying. Paper trails that dead-ended at shell companies. It would take time to connect all the dots. But they would do it. And when they did, the people responsible would pay.

"How long?" Sasuke asked during one of their weekly meetings.

"Six months minimum. Maybe a year. This is complex."

"And then?"

"We show the world that Fugaku was framed and restore his reputation. And we expose everyone involved."

"Including the people who stayed silent?"

Itachi looked at his brother. "You really want to go after Naruto publicly?"

"I want the truth known. If that truth includes the fact that the mayor could have helped and chose not to, then yes."

"That's going to create political fallout. For him and for us."

"I don't care about fallout. I care about truth."

"Dad would be proud."

"Dad taught me that truth matters more than comfort. I'm just following his example."

Chapter Text

Ages 31 - 32

There's a particular cruelty in vindication that comes too late. In being proven right after the person you were defending is already dead. In winning a battle after the war has already cost you everything. But truth matters. Especially when it's too late.

For three months, Sasuke and Itachi worked obsessively on proving their father was framed. Itachi led the investigation—he had the connections, the experience, the resources. Sasuke helped when he could, taking time off work, flying to Nagi for weekend research sessions, reviewing documents late at night in his Tokyo apartment. Sakura supported Sasuke as much as she could by helping him review his case notes and making sure he got rest and stayed healthy.

The work was painstaking. They hired three independent forensic document examiners to review the "evidence" against Fugaku. All three reached the same conclusion, that they were sophisticated forgeries. Digital timestamps that had been altered. Metadata that didn't match the claimed dates. Signatures that were copies of copies, not originals.

They tracked down every witness quoted in the articles. Most were shocked to learn what they'd allegedly said.

"I never said that. Someone called me asking general questions about the old case, but I never accused Fugaku of anything."

"That quote is completely fabricated. I'd never say that about Fugaku—he saved my business by exposing the people extorting me."

"Someone must have taken my words out of context. I said the evidence in the case was 'remarkably thorough'—I never said it was 'too perfect to be real.'"

Every interview revealed the same pattern. Legitimate conversations twisted into accusations, or complete fabrications attributed to real people.

The most difficult part was tracing where the forged documents came from. The articles had been leaked anonymously. The documents appeared to originate from "confidential sources." But money always leaves a trail. Itachi traced payments from shell companies to private investigation firms to media outlets. The chain was deliberately complex, designed to hide the source. But piece by piece, he followed it back. To the same people Fugaku had exposed a decade ago. The executives who'd been convicted of corruption and served prison time. Who'd lost their careers, their reputations, their wealth. Who'd spent ten years rebuilding and plotting revenge.

In mid-June, Itachi found the evidence that would break the case wide open.

An email from one of the convicted executives to a private investigator, dated six months before the articles appeared: "We need something that will destroy Fugaku Uchiha completely. I don't care what it costs. I want his reputation in ruins. I want him to suffer the way we suffered. Find a way or make it happen."

The response from the investigator: "Manufacturing evidence is risky and expensive. But possible. Give me four months and two million yen. I'll give you something that will end him."

It was everything they needed. It was proof of conspiracy and intent to harm. Proof that the evidence against Fugaku had been deliberately fabricated. Sasuke read the emails in Itachi's apartment, hands shaking.

"This is it. This proves Dad was innocent."

"Yes."

"So what do we do now?"

" We call a press conference and present all our evidence. We clear Dad's name."

"And the people responsible?"

"The prosecutor's office will have to act. These emails prove conspiracy, fraud, possibly even manslaughter given that the stress killed Dad. They'll face charges."

"And Naruto?"

Itachi was quiet for a moment. "What about him?"

"He stayed silent while this happened. While Dad was being destroyed by lies. Does that come out too?"

"That's your call. But Sasuke—going after Naruto publicly will create a political firestorm. He's the mayor. He has defenders, allies, media connections. It could get ugly."

"I don't care if it gets ugly.”

"Then we can include it. We make it clear that people in positions of power—including the mayor—could have pushed back against this and chose not to."

"Good. Because he needs to face consequences. Not legal ones, maybe. But the public needs to know who he really is."

The press conference was held in Tokyo at a major hotel.

Itachi and Sasuke stood at a podium, surrounded by documentation, with a screen behind them displaying evidence. The room was packed—journalists, investigators, some of Fugaku's old colleagues, members of the public who'd followed the case.

Itachi spoke first, his voice clear and steady:

"Six months ago, my father—Fugaku Uchiha—was accused of fabricating evidence in his landmark corruption case. These accusations appeared in multiple media outlets, were backed by what seemed to be convincing evidence, and led to an official investigation. The stress of these accusations caused my father to suffer a fatal heart attack in January. He died believing his reputation was destroyed, his life's work questioned, his integrity in doubt."

He paused, letting that sink in.

"Today, my brother and I are here to present definitive proof that every accusation against our father was false. That the evidence used to discredit him was deliberately fabricated by the very people he exposed a decade ago. And that my father died defending himself against lies manufactured by his enemies."

The room erupted with questions. Itachi held up a hand.

"I will present our evidence first. Then I will take questions."

For the next forty-five minutes, Itachi methodically presented their findings. The forensic analysis proving the documents were forged. The witness testimonies refuting the claims attributed to them. The financial trail connecting the forged evidence to Fugaku's old enemies.

And finally, the smoking gun—the emails proving deliberate conspiracy to destroy Fugaku's reputation.

When he finished, the room was silent. Then chaos. Reporters shouting questions. Cameras flashing. People demanding more information. Sasuke stepped to the microphone, and the room quieted slightly.

"My father was a man of absolute integrity. He dedicated his life to exposing corruption and holding powerful people accountable. He was nearly killed once for that work. And in the end, he was killed by lies from the people he'd exposed. People who spent a decade plotting revenge."

His voice was hard, controlled anger barely contained.

"But my father wasn't just killed by his enemies. He was also failed by people who should have defended him. By colleagues who stayed silent to protect their own reputations. By officials who could have pushed back against the accusations but chose not to. By people in positions of power who valued their political careers more than truth."

A journalist shouted, "Are you referring to Mayor Uzumaki?"

Sasuke looked directly at the camera. "I'm referring to anyone who had the power to help and chose not to. Anyone who saw these accusations and knew my father's character but stayed silent anyway. Anyone who prioritized their own safety over standing up for what was right. If that includes the mayor, then yes."

"Did you ask Mayor Uzumaki for help?"

"Yes. Multiple times. He expressed sympathy but refused to make any public statement defending my father. He claimed it would be 'inappropriate' given his position. In reality, he was afraid of political blowback."

"That's a serious accusation—"

"It's a statement of fact. I called him. I asked for help. He refused. My father died. Those are facts, not accusations."

Another journalist, "What do you want to happen now?"

"I want my father's name cleared officially. I want the people responsible for this frame job prosecuted. I want everyone who stayed silent while an innocent man was destroyed to look at themselves and question whether their comfort was worth his life. And I want the world to remember Fugaku Uchiha not as someone accused of corruption, but as the hero he actually was."

The press conference continued for another hour, but the damage—or rather, the truth—had been done.

Within hours, the story was everywhere.

"Fugaku Uchiha Exonerated: Evidence Was Fabricated by Revenge-Seeking Executives"

"Conspiracy to Destroy Hero Investigator Led to His Death"

"Mayor Uzumaki Faces Criticism for Silence During Uchiha Case"

The prosecutorial response was immediate. The emails Itachi had uncovered were more than enough for criminal charges. Three former executives were arrested on charges of conspiracy, fraud, and involuntary manslaughter. The private investigator who'd manufactured the evidence was also arrested. The case would take months to go to trial, but the evidence was overwhelming. They would all go to prison.

But that wasn't the story that dominated the news cycle. The bigger story was Mayor Uzumaki's silence. Opinion pieces started appearing immediately:

"When Heroes Die, Where Were Our Leaders?"

"Mayor Uzumaki's Silence: Political Calculation or Moral Failure?"

"The Cost of Political Safety: One Man's Life"

Naruto's approval ratings—which had been strong—began to drop. Not dramatically. Not enough to threaten his position. But enough to hurt. Phone calls flooded his office—some supportive, many critical.

"How could you stay silent while a good man was being destroyed?"

"You talked about justice constantly but did nothing when it mattered!"

"Fugaku Uchiha saved this city from corruption and you abandoned him!"

Naruto held an emergency staff meeting.

"We need damage control. Now."

"What do you want to say?" his chief of staff asked.

"That I had faith in the process. That I believed the investigation would reveal the truth. That I—"

"That you did nothing and are now pretending it was intentional?" The chief of staff's tone was sharp. "Mayor, there's no good way to spin this. You stayed silent. A good man died. His son called you out publicly. You can either apologize or double down, but you can't pretend this didn't happen."

"I'm not apologizing for being neutral—"

"You weren't neutral. You were absent. There's a difference."

Naruto felt his anger rise, "So, what do you suggest?"

"Issue a statement. Express regret that you didn't speak up sooner. Acknowledge that in hindsight, you wish you'd done more. Frame it as a learning experience. Show humility."

"That makes me look weak—"

"Not as weak as pretending you did nothing wrong. The public isn't stupid. They know you stayed silent. The question is whether you own it or try to justify it."

The next day, Naruto's office issued a carefully crafted statement:

"I have seen the evidence presented by the Uchiha family, and I am deeply troubled by what was done to Fugaku Uchiha. He was a man of integrity who served this community with distinction for decades. The fact that he was targeted by a deliberate campaign of lies is both tragic and infuriating.

In hindsight, I regret that I did not speak more forcefully in his defense during the allegations. I believed that remaining neutral and allowing the investigative process to work was the appropriate course of action. I now understand that silence—even well-intentioned silence—can cause harm when good people are being unjustly attacked.

I cannot change the past, but I can commit to doing better in the future. When I see injustice happening, I will speak up, even when it is politically complicated to do so. I owe that to Fugaku Uchiha's memory and to the values I claimed to represent when I ran for office.

To the Uchiha family, and particularly to Sasuke Uchiha: I am sorry. Your father deserved better from me. I failed him, and I failed you. I hope that in time, you can understand that my silence came from a misguided belief in process, not from a lack of respect for your father.

Fugaku Uchiha was a hero. His name is cleared. His legacy is secure. And I will do everything in my power to ensure he is remembered for the truth of who he was, not the lies that were told about him."

It was a good statement. Well-crafted. Appropriately humble. Politically smart. But it wasn't enough.

When Sasuke saw Naruto's statement, he felt nothing but contempt.

"'Misguided belief in process,'" he read aloud to Sakura. "That's what he's calling it. Not cowardice. Not political calculation. A 'misguided belief.'"

"At least he apologized," Sakura offered.

"All I see is a carefully worded statement designed to minimize the damage to his political career while appearing humble?"

"Sasuke—"

"Read it again. Really read it. He expresses regret 'in hindsight.' He says his silence came from 'well-intentioned' beliefs. He calls it a 'learning experience.' He never actually admits he was wrong. He never admits he chose his career over my father's life. He just... softens it. Makes it sound like an honest mistake instead of a deliberate choice."

"What would you want him to say?"

"The truth. 'I was asked to help. I could have helped. I chose not to because I was afraid it would hurt me politically. I prioritized my career over Fugaku Uchiha's life, and I was wrong. I am responsible for my choice, and I will carry that for the rest of my life.' That's what I want him to say. Not this political double-speak that sounds like an apology but isn't."

"He's never going to say that."

"I know. Because he's a politician. And politicians don't admit to moral failures. They just reframe them as 'misguided beliefs' and move on."

A reporter called, asking if Sasuke wanted to respond to the mayor's statement.

Sasuke gave a brief quote.

"Mayor Uzumaki's statement is the kind of careful political response I've come to expect from him. Lots of words, very little actual accountability. My father is dead. An apology that tries to minimize the choice that led to his death is not an apology at all. But I'm done expecting better from the mayor. He's shown who he is repeatedly. I believe him."

The quote was picked up everywhere. And it hurt Naruto more than any long essay could have.

It was brief, cold and dismissive. The statement of someone who had given up on him completely.

While the political drama played out, the criminal trial against the conspirators began. Sasuke attended every day of the trial. Watched as the evidence was presented. Watched as the defendants tried to justify their actions.

"We were just trying to expose the truth about how he really operated—"

"You manufactured lies," the prosecutor countered. "You fabricated evidence. You destroyed a man's reputation and caused his death. That's not exposing truth. That's murder by other means."

The defense was weak. The evidence overwhelming. In September, all three former executives and the private investigator were convicted. Sentences ranged from eight to fifteen years in prison. It was justice but it felt hollow. Because Fugaku was still dead.

The people responsible would go to prison, but it wouldn't bring him back.

In late September, the prosecutor's office issued an official statement:

"After thorough investigation, we have concluded that all allegations against Fugaku Uchiha were completely false and based on deliberately fabricated evidence. Fugaku Uchiha's original work on the landmark multiple corruption case was exemplary, ethical, and legally sound. His reputation is hereby fully restored, and we deeply regret the harm caused to him and his family by these false allegations. Fugaku Uchiha was a hero to this community, and he will be remembered as such."

The city of Nagi issued a proclamation honoring Fugaku's service. A scholarship was established in his name at Konoha University. His photo was placed in the police department hall of fame. All the honors he deserved. All too late.

In October, a memorial ceremony was held in Nagi—a public recognition of Fugaku's restored reputation. Hundreds attended. City officials. Former colleagues. Community members.

Mayor Uzumaki gave a speech:

"Fugaku Uchiha dedicated his life to truth and justice. He was a hero who held powerful people accountable, even when it cost him everything. We failed him when he needed us most, but we honor him now by remembering not just his work, but his character. His integrity. His unwavering commitment to doing what was right, regardless of the personal cost. Nagi is better because of Fugaku Uchiha. And we will never forget what he stood for."

The speech was almost sincere-sounding.

Sasuke, standing in the back of the crowd, felt nothing but disgust.

"He's using my father's death for political rehabilitation," he said quietly to Sakura.

"I know."

"He's pretending he always believed in him. Pretending he was on the right side all along. But we both know he stayed silent when it mattered."

"Everyone here knows that too. The speech isn't going to change what people think."

"Doesn't matter. He gets to look like a leader. Gets to associate himself with Dad's legacy. Gets to pretend he's the kind of person who values integrity."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No. I'm staying until the end. For Dad. Not for him."

After the ceremony, several people approached Sasuke.

Expressed sympathy. Said they wished they'd done more.

One former colleague of Fugaku's was particularly emotional: "I'm sorry, Sasuke. I should have spoken up when the allegations came out. I knew they were lies. But I was afraid of being associated with someone accused of corruption. I chose safety over loyalty. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life."

The honesty was startling.

"Thank you for saying that," Sasuke said. "Most people can't admit when they chose wrong."

"Your father taught me better. I just didn't have the courage to follow through."

At least that was honest. More honest than Naruto's carefully crafted statements and political speeches.

After the memorial, as people were dispersing, Naruto approached Sasuke.

"Can we talk?"

"No."

"Sasuke, please. Five minutes."

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"Then just listen. Please."

Sasuke looked at Sakura, who nodded slightly: Your choice.

"Five minutes. Then you leave me alone. Forever."

They walked to a quiet corner of the memorial grounds.

Naruto spoke first.

"I know you don't believe my apology was sincere. I know you think it was just political management. But I want you to know—I do regret not speaking up. I do wish I'd done things differently."

"Do you regret the choice, or the consequences of the choice?"

"What?"

"Do you regret that you stayed silent, or do you regret that staying silent made you look bad? Because there's a difference."

Naruto was quiet for a moment. "Both. I regret making the choice, and I regret how it turned out."

"That's not the same as being sorry for the right reasons."

"I don't understand—"

"You're sorry because it hurt your reputation. Because your approval ratings dropped. Because you faced criticism. But are you sorry about what it cost my father? Are you sorry that your silence contributed to his death? Or are you just sorry about how it affected you?"

"That's not fair—"

"Answer the question. If staying silent hadn't hurt you politically—if there had been no public backlash, no criticism, no consequences for you—would you still think you made the wrong choice?"

Naruto opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"I... I don't know. Maybe? I'd like to think so."

"That's what I thought. You're not sorry you did it. You're sorry you got caught. You're sorry people found out. You're sorry it made you look bad. But you're not actually sorry about the moral failure itself."

"That's not true—"

"Tell me right now, if you could go back to that phone call—the one where I asked for your help—what would you do differently?"

"I'd... I'd speak up. I'd defend your father publicly."

"Why? What's changed?"

"Because I know now that he was innocent—"

"You knew then he was innocent! You knew his character! You knew he'd never fabricate evidence! The only thing that's changed is that now there's proof that would protect you politically! But when defending him was risky, when it might have cost you something, you stayed silent!"

Naruto flinched. "I made a mistake—"

"No. You made a choice. A calculated, deliberate choice to prioritize your political career over my father's life. And the only thing you regret is that the calculation didn't work out the way you hoped. You thought you could stay safe by staying silent. You were wrong. But that doesn't mean you've actually learned anything."

"What do you want from me? I apologized! I acknowledged I was wrong! What more can I do?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can do. My father is dead. Your apology doesn't bring him back. Your regret doesn't change what you did. And I'll never trust you again. Never believe you when you talk about justice or integrity or standing up for what's right. Because when it mattered—when actually doing those things would have cost you something—you ran away."

"Sasuke—"

"We're done. Not just our friendship. This conversation. Your five minutes are up. Leave me alone. Don't contact me. Don't send cards on holidays. Don't pretend we're still friends who just had a falling out. We're strangers. That's all we'll ever be from now on."

"You can't mean that—"

"I mean it completely. Goodbye, Naruto."

Sasuke walked away.

Naruto stood there, watching him go, and felt something break inside him. Not grief or regret, exactly. Just... loss. The loss of something that had been so important for so long. But he'd made his choice. And now he had to live with it.

In the months after the exoneration, life slowly returned to something resembling normal.

Sasuke continued his work as an investigator, now with a reputation enhanced by clearing his father's name. Sakura was in her final year of residency, preparing for boards. Sarada was growing at three years old and was starting to talk in full sentences and form her own little personality quirks. They were building a good life, despite the grief.

Naruto's life in Nagi on the other hand was different. His approval ratings had stabilized but never fully recovered to what they were before the whole Fugaku situation. He was still mayor, still doing the job, and still politically viable. But there was a shadow over him now.

"The mayor who stayed silent when a hero was being destroyed"

On the one-year anniversary of Fugaku's death, Sasuke visited his grave. Mikoto was already there, placing flowers.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, sweetheart. I knew you'd come today."

They stood together in silence for a while.

"His name is cleared," Sasuke finally said. "Everyone knows he was innocent. The people responsible are in prison. It's over."

"But it doesn't feel like victory."

"No. It feels hollow."

"Because he's still gone."

"Yes."

Mikoto put her hand on her son's arm. "But you did what he would have wanted. You fought for truth. You didn't give up. You made sure his legacy was what he actually did, not the lies people told about him. He would be proud of you."

"I wish he could tell me that himself."

"Me too, baby. Me too."

They stayed at the grave until the sun started setting. Then they walked back to the car together.

"Are you going back to Tokyo tonight?"

"Tomorrow morning. Sakura has a late shift tonight, so I'm staying with you and Itachi."

"Good. I'll make your favorite dinner."

"Thanks, Mom."

As they drove away from the cemetery, Sasuke looked back at his father's grave one last time.

We did it, Dad. Your name is cleared. But the cost was so high. The friendship I thought was unbreakable. My belief in people's integrity. My trust in institutions. You were right about everything. Truth matters more than comfort. Integrity matters more than approval. Standing up for what's right matters more than staying safe. I just wish you were here to see that the fight you taught me to fight was worth it. Even when we lose everything else. Even when the truth comes too late.

Chapter Text

Ages 35 -36

Shikamaru was in Nagi for work, consulting on an economic development project, when he ran into Naruto at a coffee shop.

"Naruto?"

"Shikamaru! Man, it's been forever!"

They hugged—awkwardly, given everything that happened recently.

"How are you? How's being mayor?"

"Crazy. Busy. Rewarding." Naruto's politician smile was automatic now. "How's Tokyo?"

"Good. Troublesome, but good. Economics consulting keeps me busy."

"Do you... do you ever talk to Sasuke and Sakura?"

Shikamaru's expression cooled slightly. "Yes. We have lunch every few weeks."

"How are they?"

"They are good. Really good, actually. Successful and happy raising their daughter Sarada, she’s quite intelligent. She recently got accepted to a prestigious elementary school"

Something twisted in Naruto's chest. "That's... that's great. Tell them I said congratulations."

"I'm not going to do that."

"Why not?"

"Because they don't want to hear from you. And because it would be weird coming from me when you could reach out yourself."

"Neither of them will talk to me."

"Then maybe respect that."

Silence.

"Do you think..." Naruto started, then stopped.

"What?"

"Do you think I was wrong? For being neutral about the situation with Sasuke’s father?"

Shikamaru looked at him for a long moment.

"Yes. You were wrong. You had the power to help and chose not to. That's not neutrality. That's a choice. And Sasuke's right not to forgive it."

"I apologized—"

"You performed an apology. There's a difference." Shikamaru stood. "Look, Naruto, you're a good guy in a lot of ways. Charismatic, well-meaning, genuinely want to help people. But when it comes down to it—when taking a stand would cost you something—you run. Every time. And that's not the kind of person Sasuke respects. It's not the kind of person I respect either, honestly."

"So, you're on his side."

"I'm on the side of truth. Which happens to be Sasuke's side. And I wish it was yours too, but it's not. You chose politics. That's your right. But don't expect us to pretend that's okay."

Shikamaru left.

Naruto sat alone in the coffee shop, staring at his expensive latte, wondering when everything had gotten so complicated. He'd achieved everything he wanted. So why did he feel so hollow?

Sasuke was promoted to senior investigator at Nakamura Investigations.

"You've earned it," Kenji said during the promotion meeting. "Four major cases, all solved ethically and thoroughly. You're building the kind of reputation your father had—someone who can't be bought, can't be intimidated, and won't compromise."

"Thank you."

"Next step is lead investigator. That means managing cases, training junior investigators, representing the firm in court. You ready for that responsibility?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because we have a major case coming up. Corporate corruption at a construction company—unsafe working conditions, falsified inspection reports, workers dying because executives are cutting safety costs. It's exactly the kind of case your father would have taken."

Sasuke felt his heart rate increase. "I want it."

"I thought you would. It's yours. Make your father proud."

"I will."

Sakura was in her surgery rotation and was absolutely thriving.

"Dr. Uchiha," her attending physician said one day after she'd assisted in a complex procedure, "you have real talent for this. Steady hands, good spatial reasoning, excellent under pressure. You should seriously consider surgery as your specialty."

"I'm already planning on it."

"General surgery? Or something more specialized?"

"Pediatric surgery mainly.”

The attending smiled. "You'll be excellent at it."

Sasuke had learned to set boundaries at work.

"I leave at 6 pm every day. No exceptions. Family dinner is more important than any case."

"Even if we're on deadline?"

"Even then. I'll work at home after Sarada goes to bed if needed. But 6 to 8 pm is family time. Non-negotiable."

It cost him some opportunities—cases that required 80-hour weeks, clients who wanted round-the-clock availability.

But he didn't care.

"My father worked constantly. He was dedicated, brilliant, and I'm proud of him. But he also missed things. I won't make that mistake."

Sakura, in her brutal residency schedule, also prioritized family when she could.

"I have Monday night free. That's our night. No studying. No calls. Just us and Sarada."

They protected those moments fiercely. Because they knew—family wasn't something you fit into your schedule. Family was the schedule. Everything else worked around it.

At six years old, Sarada Uchiha started first grade at a prestigious school in Tokyo. Not because the Uchihas were wealthy, they were comfortable but not rich. But because the school emphasized critical thinking, ethics, and character development alongside academics.

"It's expensive," Sakura had said when they toured it. "But look at their curriculum. Philosophy for children. Ethics discussions. Community service starting in elementary school."

"It's perfect," Sasuke agreed. "This is exactly the kind of environment we want for her."

On Sarada's first day, she wore her uniform neatly, carried her backpack carefully, and looked up at her father with big, serious eyes.

"What if the other kids don't like me?"

"Then they're not worth your time. Be yourself. Be kind. The right people will respect that."

"What if someone's mean to me?"

"Tell a teacher first. If that doesn't work, defend yourself. Never start conflicts, but don't let people walk over you either."

"Okay."

Sakura knelt down and hugged her daughter tightly, "You're going to be amazing. You're smart, kind, and brave. Just be you."

"I love you, Mama. I love you, Papa."

"We love you too. Have a wonderful first day."

They watched her walk into the school building—small, serious, and determined.

"She's going to be fine," Sakura said.

"Better than fine. She's going to be extraordinary," Sasuke responded.

Boruto Uzumaki started first grade at the most prestigious private school in Nagi. Not because it was the best fit for him—it wasn't. But because it's where the children of wealthy and powerful families attended. Good optics. Good connections for Naruto's political future. On Boruto's first day, he refused to wear his uniform properly.

"I don't like it! It's uncomfortable!"

"You have to wear it. It's the school rules," Hinata said, exhausted already.

"I DON'T CARE! Daddy's the mayor! He can change the rules!"

"That's not how it works—"

"YES IT IS! Daddy says we're special! We can do whatever we want!"

Hinata finally gave up—partially dressed him in the uniform, let him wear sneakers instead of dress shoes, sent him to school still complaining. Naruto, who'd already left for an early meeting, didn't even see his son that morning. When Boruto arrived at school, he immediately announced to everyone within hearing range that his dad was the mayor.

"My daddy is the MAYOR! That means I'm important! You have to do what I say!"

The teacher—Miss Mirai, experienced and patient—quickly intervened.

"Boruto, that's wonderful that your father is mayor. But in this classroom, everyone is equal. Everyone follows the same rules."

"But I'm special!"

"You're special to your family, certainly. But you're not more important than other students. We all treat each other with respect here."

Boruto scowled but when faced with an adult who wouldn't bend, he grudgingly complied. For now.

"Sarada is a model student. She's respectful, curious, and shows genuine empathy for her classmates. When another student was upset, Sarada immediately tried to help them feel better. She asks thoughtful questions and isn't afraid to admit when she doesn't understand something. Academically strong, but more importantly, she demonstrates excellent character. A joy to have in class."

Sasuke and Sakura read the report card together.

"That's our girl," Sakura said, proud.

"She gets it from you. The empathy part."

"And from you. The integrity part."

"From both of us. That's the point."

"Boruto is energetic and has leadership potential, but needs to work on respecting boundaries. He frequently interrupts other students and sometimes insists on special treatment. When asked to follow classroom rules, he references his father's position. We're working on helping him understand that everyone is equal in this space, regardless of family background. Academically capable when he applies himself, but often distracted. Please reinforce at home that classroom rules apply to all students."

When Naruto read the report—quickly, between meetings—he felt defensive.

"She's being too harsh. He's just confident."

Nothing changed. Boruto continued being entitled because no one with the authority to stop it actually cared enough to try.

In November, Sarada came home upset.

"What's wrong?" Sasuke asked immediately.

"Takeshi pushed Mika at recess. She fell and scraped her knee. I told the teacher and Takeshi said I was a tattletale."

"Did you do the right thing?"

"I think so? But now Takeshi won't talk to me and some other kids say I'm mean for getting him in trouble."

Sasuke knelt down to her level. "Let me ask you something. If you saw someone getting hurt and you said nothing, how would you feel?"

"Bad."

"Why?"

"Because... because I could have helped and I didn't."

"Exactly. You did the right thing by telling an adult. Takeshi is angry because he got in trouble, not because you did anything wrong. Sometimes doing the right thing makes people mad at you. That doesn't mean you should stop doing it."

"But what if no one likes me?"

"The people who matter will like you for standing up for what's right. The people who don't like you for that? Their opinion doesn't matter."

Sakura added, "And remember—Mika probably appreciates that you helped her. You made one real friend instead of multiple fake ones. That's better."

Sarada thought about this. "Okay. I'll keep doing the right thing."

"Good girl."

Around the same time, Boruto came home angry.

"School is STUPID!" he yelled, throwing his backpack.

"What happened?" Hinata asked, too tired to address the thrown backpack.

"Miss Mirai gave me time-out because I took Kenji's toy! But I wanted it! And Daddy's the mayor so I should get to have it!"

"Boruto, you can't just take other people's things—"

"Why not? We're important! We should get whatever we want!"

"That's not how the world works—"

"Yes it is! Daddy said we're special! Daddy said people should respect us!"

Hinata looked at her six-year-old son—already completely warped by entitlement—and felt despair. She'd created this. She'd spent his entire life telling him he was special, that his father's position made them better than others, that the rules didn't apply to them the same way. And now she had a monster of a child who genuinely believed he could do whatever he wanted.

"Go to your room," she said quietly.

"NO!"

"Boruto—"

"I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU! You're not important! Daddy's important! Only Daddy can tell me what to do!"

Hinata closed her eyes.

This is my fault. I raised him to be like this.

When Naruto came home that evening, Hinata tried to explain the problem.

"Your son thinks he doesn't have to follow rules because you're mayor."

"He's six. He'll grow out of it."

"No, he won't! Not unless you teach him that his behavior is unacceptable!"

"I don't have time for this right now—"

"That's the problem!"

The Uchihas spent Christmas quietly.

Just the three of them, plus Mikoto and Itachi.

They made cookies together—Sarada helping measure ingredients and eating chocolate chips when she thought no one was looking. They decorated a modest tree—Sarada placing ornaments carefully where she could reach.

Christmas morning was simple. A few thoughtful gifts. Books. Art supplies. A child-sized microscope because Sarada had been fascinated when Sakura explained about cells.

"This is the best Christmas ever!" Sarada declared.

They hadn't spent much money. Hadn't tried to impress anyone.

Just spent time together. Built memories. Reinforced values.

The Uzumakis' Christmas was excessive. Partially because Naruto was overcompensating for being an absent father. Partially because Hinata had given up on setting boundaries. Boruto received a gaming system, tablet, a remote-control car and at least fifteen other toys.  He opened each one, played with it for thirty seconds, then demanded the next.

"Is this all?"

"Boruto, you got so many presents—"

"But I wanted MORE!"

Himawari who was age five was equally spoiled. She received dolls, dress-up clothes, a toy kitchen, more toys than she could possibly play with. She cried when she didn't get a specific toy she'd seen in a commercial.

"I WANT IT! GET IT NOW!"

Kawaki who was sixteen now, watched all of this with growing disgust. He'd received practical things—clothes, school supplies, and a gift card. Nothing frivolous. Nothing expensive. Because he wasn't really part of the family. He was just... there. The contrast between how Boruto and Himawari were treated versus how he was treated couldn't have been more obvious.

This isn't a family, he thought. This is a political operation that happens to include children. He spent most of Christmas in his room, counting the days until he turned eighteen and could leave.

Chapter Text

Ages 35 -36

On a cold February morning, something happened that would change everything. A junior forensic investigator named Tanaka was processing old evidence for destruction in Nagi. It was standard procedure for cases that were closed for more than ten years. The physical evidence would be scheduled for disposal to free up storage space. He was working through boxes of old traffic accident evidence when he came across Case # 0228.

Neji Hyuuga - Fatal Traffic Accident.

Something about the file caught his attention. Maybe because he'd heard the name—Neji Hyuuga had been well-known as a labor activist and had died young. It was a tragic story.

Maybe it was just professional curiosity. He opened the file.

The official conclusion was that the driver, Neji Hyuuga, had lost control on a mountain road. The passenger, Hinata Hyuuga, had been the only survivor of the crash. It was a standard accident, nothing suspicious. But Tanaka had just completed new training on accident reconstruction. And something in the photos bothered him.

Probably nothing, he thought. Old case, before our improved forensic methods. But he was thorough. He ran the biological samples through the new DNA database. Technology had improved dramatically. Back then, they could confirm identity but not much else. Now, they could do detailed analysis of DNA placement. And the results were... wrong. This doesn't match the official report.

He brought it to his supervisor.

"I think there's a problem with an old case."

"What kind of problem?"

"The kind where the physical evidence doesn't match the official conclusion."

His supervisor looked at the case number. "Hyuuga case. That's old. Closed. Why are you even looking at it?"

"Because I'm supposed to process old evidence for destruction. And I noticed inconsistencies."

"Like what?"

"DNA placement suggests the drivers blood splattered against the passenger seat as if he was not in control of the vehicle while driving."

The supervisor went very still.

"The passenger was the mayor's wife. When she was younger."

"I know."

"This is... this is sensitive. Are you absolutely sure about these results?"

"Yes. I ran them twice."

The supervisor rubbed his face. "We can't ignore this. But we also can't just reopen a thirteen-year-old case based on DNA analysis without more evidence."

"What should I do?"

"Write a full report. Include all the photos, the DNA results, the inconsistencies. And then we'll take it to the chief."

"And if the chief says to bury it?"

"Then we make copies and take it higher. Because if this is what it looks like—if someone lied about what happened in a fatal accident—that's not something we can ignore."

Within a week, the report reached the police chief. Chief Yamamoto read it carefully. Then read it again. Then called in his senior investigator.

"Tell me this isn't real."

"I wish I could. But the DNA evidence is solid. The original investigator in noted some inconsistencies but couldn't pursue them with the technology available then. Now we can. And it looks like Hinata Hyuuga might have been taken control of the wheel when her cousin died."

"Might have been?"

"The evidence strongly suggests it. But we'd need to reopen the investigation officially to know for sure."

"The mayor's wife. We're talking about reopening an investigation into the mayor's wife."

"Yes."

"The political fallout will be massive."

"Yes."

"But if she lied about a fatal accident... if she let her cousin take the blame for his own death..."

"Then she needs to face justice. Regardless of political consequences."

Chief Yamamoto sat at his desk for a long time. He had two choices. Do what was right—reopen the investigation, follow the evidence, let justice happen. Or do what was politically safe—bury the report, claim insufficient evidence, protect the mayor's office. He thought about Fugaku Uchiha. About how that good man had been destroyed by people choosing politics over truth. How he'd died believing his reputation was ruined. Chief Yamamoto had stayed silent during that frame job—not wanting to get involved, not wanting to make waves. He'd regretted it ever since.

Not this time, he decided. This time I do what's right.

"Reopen the investigation. Quietly for now. Get more evidence. But if this DNA analysis is correct, we prosecute."

"Even though she's married to the mayor?"

"Especially because she's married to the mayor. No one is above the law."

Investigations this big don't stay secret. Within two weeks, a journalist got wind of it.

"New Evidence Surfaces in Fifteen Year old Fatal Accident - Mayor's Wife May Have Been Cause of Accident!"

The story broke like a bomb. It was on national news and had regional coverage. Every political blog in the country was talking about it.

"Mayor Uzumaki's Wife Under Investigation for Death of Neji Hyuuga"

"Did Hinata Uzumaki Lie About Cousin's Fatal Accident?"

"DNA Evidence Contradicts Official Report in Hyuuga Death"

Naruto's office was immediately flooded with calls. Reporters demanding comment. Political opponents calling for his resignation. Supporters asking if it was a political hit job. And Naruto, in the center of it all, had to make a choice. Stand by his wife and demand due process? Or distance himself and claim he knew nothing? For once, he couldn't calculate his way out. Because this wasn't about politics. This was about truth. And after years of choosing political safety over truth—

The bill had finally come due.

Chapter Text

Ages 35 - 36

When faced with the truth, people reveal who they really are. Some choose integrity, even when it costs them everything. Others choose self-preservation, even when it destroys their soul.

Naruto Uzumaki was about to show the world exactly who he was.

Naruto woke to his phone vibrating nonstop. Fifty-three missed calls. Over a hundred texts. Voicemails filling up his inbox. He grabbed the phone, confused, still half-asleep. The first text was from his chief of staff: "Turn on the news. NOW. We have a massive problem."

He turned on the TV.

Every news channel was running the same story:

"BREAKING: New Evidence Suggests Mayor's Wife Lied About Fatal Accident"

His blood ran cold.

A reporter stood outside the police station:"Sources confirm that forensic investigators have discovered new DNA evidence that contradicts the official report from Neji Hyuuga's fatal car accident that took place nearly a fifteen years ago. According to the original report, Neji Hyuuga was driving when the vehicle went off the road. However, new DNA analysis suggests his cousin—Hinata Uzumaki, then Hinata Hyuuga, now the wife of Mayor Naruto Uzumaki—may have actually taken control of the wheel..."

Naruto's hands were shaking. He walked down the hall to the master bedroom. Hinata was awake, sitting up in bed, staring at her own phone. Their eyes met.

"Tell me it's not true," Naruto said quietly.

Hinata's face was pale. "Naruto—"

"Tell me you weren't driving. Tell me this is some kind of mistake or political hit job or something. Tell me you didn't lie about this for years."

Silence.

"Hinata. TELL ME."

"I—" Her voice broke. "I w-was the one who took control of the w-wheel while my c-cousin was driving…."

The world stopped.

"What?"

"Neji was driving. I grabbed the w-wheel. We crashed. I—I was drunk and I panicked and I—"

"You WHAT?"

"I'm sorry! I was scared! I didn't mean to—it was an accident! I just grabbed the wheel for a second and—"

"You killed Neji. You killed your cousin. And then you framed it as if he was the cause for his own death. And you've been lying about it for YEARS."

"I didn't mean to—"

"HOW COULD YOU NOT MEAN TO?!" Naruto was shouting now. "You grabbed the wheel! You caused the crash! You lied to everyone! To the police! To Tenten! To ME! How is ANY of that an accident?!"

"I was drunk! I was upset! I made a mistake!"

"A MISTAKE?! Mistakes are forgetting to buy milk! This is—this is—" He couldn't even find words. "Do you understand what you've done? Neji is dead. Tenten lost her fiancé. You let everyone believe he was reckless when YOU killed him. And now—NOW—after I've built my entire career, you—"

He stopped himself. But Hinata heard what he'd almost said.

"After you built your career," she repeated coldly. "That's what you care about. Not that I've been living with this guilt for years. Your care about your career and not me!"

"Don't you dare. Don't you DARE try to make me the villain here. You're the one who—"

His phone rang. It was his Chief of staff. He answered.

"I need you at the office. Now. Emergency meeting. Every advisor. Lawyers. PR. We need a strategy."

"I'm on my way."

He hung up and looked at Hinata.

"Don't leave the house. Don't talk to anyone. Don't answer the phone. I need to figure out how to handle this."

"How to handle this? Naruto, I killed—"

"You need to SHUT UP until I can get legal advice!"

He stormed out. He left her sitting on the bed, surrounded by the wreckage of fifteen years of lies.

Naruto's senior staff crowded into his office. Chief of Staff Tamura. Communications Director Sato. Legal Counsel Fujimoto. Three political advisors. Everyone looked grim.

"Talk to me," Naruto said. "How bad is this?"

"Catastrophic," Tamura said bluntly. "Your wife is about to be arrested for vehicular manslaughter, evidence tampering, and fraud. The media is in a feeding frenzy. Your approval rating has already dropped fifteen points since the story broke two hours ago. And it's going to get worse."

"Can we claim the DNA evidence is flawed?"

Legal Counsel Fujimoto shook his head. "The science is solid. Multiple independent analyses. The original forensic investigator noted inconsistencies years ago but didn't have the technology to pursue them. Now they do. And it's conclusive—Hinata's DNA is all over the steering wheel. Neji's DNA is on the driver’s side airbag. She was the one who took control of the wheel."

"Could someone have planted evidence?"

"All those years ago? When no one even suspected foul play? No. This isn't planted evidence. This is evidence that was always there that we can now analyze properly."

Naruto felt his world collapsing.

"So, what do we do?"

Tamura leaned forward. "You have two options. Truth or damage control."

"Explain."

"You tell the truth. You stand by your wife. You call for due process but don't claim she's innocent. You let the investigation proceed. You step back from mayoral duties if necessary. You prepare for the possibility that she's arrested, tried, and convicted. This is the ethical option. It also means political suicide. You won't survive this."

"And the other option?"

"Then there is the damage control option. You distance yourself. You claim you knew nothing about this. You express shock and betrayal. You cooperate fully with investigators—maybe even volunteer information that helps the case. You file for divorce immediately to show you won't protect a criminal. You reframe yourself as another one of her victims. This is the survival option. You might keep your career. But you destroy your marriage."

Naruto stared at his chief of staff.

"You're telling me to throw my wife under the bus to save my career."

"I'm telling you that your wife committed a serious crime and lied to you about it for over a decade and a half. She put you in this position. Now you need to decide whether you're going down with her or cutting loose."

"That's... that's cold."

"That's politics. What's it going to be?"

Naruto sat at his desk, head in his hands.

Everything he'd worked for his entire life—mayor, political future, respect, legacy—all of it was crumbling. Because of Hinata's lies.

But I love her, part of him thought. She's my wife. The mother of my children. I can't just abandon her.

Another part—the calculating, political part that had grown so strong over the years—whispered: She lied to you. She used you. She built your marriage on a foundation of murder and lies. You don't owe her anything.

"I need to talk to her," he finally said. "Before I decide anything, I need to hear the whole story from her."

Naruto returned home to find Hinata exactly where he'd left her—sitting on the bed, staring at nothing.

He closed the bedroom door and sat across from her.

"Tell me everything. From the beginning. No lies. I need to know exactly what happened that night."

Hinata took a shaky breath.

"We were coming back from the family meeting. Neji had just been disowned for standing up about worker safety. We were talking about it. About the wedding. About Tenten. He was happy. At peace."

"And then?"

"I'd been drinking. Not a lot, but enough. I was upset from the meeting. Frustrated. And we were talking about relationships and I—I said something about you. About how I'd loved you since we were six. And Neji—he told me it wasn't healthy. That I needed to move on. That my obsession was destructive."

Naruto felt ice in his veins. "Obsession?"

"I didn't call it that. He did. But he was right." Her voice was hollow. "I'd been obsessed with you for so long. Everything I did was about getting you. And Neji saw it and tried to tell me it wasn't love, that it was a fixation. And I—I got so angry. I told him to stop talking about it. He wouldn't. And then I just—I grabbed the wheel. Just for a second. I wasn't trying to crash. I just wanted him to stop talking."

"But you did crash."

"Yes. We went off the road. The car rolled. And when it stopped—" Her voice broke. "When it stopped, Neji was dead. And I was alive. And I realized what I'd done. And I panicked."

"So…you let everyone believe he was reckless. Let Tenten think her fiancé threw away their future. Let his father think he was careless."

 "Yes…I know. I know it was wrong. But I was scared and drunk and I didn't—I couldn't face what I'd done."

"For years. You couldn't face it for years."

"Every day I think about it. Every day I see his face. Every time I see Tenten or hear his name, I—"

"Oh, you feel guilty? Well! That makes it all better then!"

"Naruto—"

"Did you ever plan to tell me? Ever? Or were you just going to take this to your grave and let me live a lie forever?"

"I don't know. I wanted to tell you. So many times. But I was afraid you'd leave me."

"I should leave you! You're a murderer!"

"It was an accident—"

"No. Grabbing the wheel was a choice. Lying for years was a choice. None of that was an accident."

Silence.

Naruto stood up, "I need you to tell me, did you ever actually love me? Or was I just the object of some sick obsession?"

Hinata looked at him with tears streaming down her face.

"I love you. I've always loved you."

"That's not love. Love doesn't destroy people to get what it wants. What you had was obsession. And it killed Neji. And now it's going to kill everything we built."

"What are you going to do?"

Naruto looked at his wife—the person he'd married, had children with, built a life with. And felt nothing but disgust.

"I don't know yet. But whatever I decide—you did this. You put us here. Not me. You."

He left the bedroom. Left her crying. And went to his office to make the call that would seal both their fates.

Naruto called Police Chief Yamamoto directly.

"Chief, this is Mayor Uzumaki. I need to speak with you about the investigation into my wife."

"Mr. Mayor. I'm surprised you're calling me directly."

"I want to be clear about where I stand. I had no knowledge of any wrongdoing. I believed, like everyone else, that my wife was a passenger in a tragic accident. If the evidence shows otherwise—if she lied about what happened—then she needs to face justice like anyone else."

"That's... admirable, Mr. Mayor. But you understand this puts you in a difficult position."

"I understand. But justice is more important than my political career. Or my marriage."

Even as he said it, he felt something twist inside him.

I'm doing it again. Choosing politics. Because if I frame this as 'I'm on the side of justice,' I look better than if I defend her.

But he pushed the thought away.

"What do you need from me, Chief?"

"Full cooperation. Any information you have about the accident, about your wife's behavior over the years, anything that might be relevant. We'll need to interview you."

"Of course. Whatever you need."

"And Mr. Mayor—are you planning to file for divorce?"

The question was strategic. The police wanted to know if Naruto would be hostile or cooperative as a witness.

"I don't know yet. But I won't be obstructing this investigation. You have my word."

"Thank you. We'll be in touch."

After hanging up, Naruto sat in his office and tried to convince himself he'd done the right thing.

She lied to me. She killed someone. She deserves to face justice.

But a small voice whispered: You're not doing this because it's right. You're doing this to save your career.

He silenced the voice. He was good at that by now.

Naruto's advisors prepared a statement.

A carefully worded response that expressed shock, committed to justice, but didn't directly condemn Hinata. Political tightrope walking at its finest. At 4 pm, Mayor Uzumaki stood before a room full of reporters. He looked appropriately serious. Concerned but strong. A man dealing with a crisis but not crumbling.

"Good afternoon. I want to address the serious allegations that have been made regarding my wife and the death of Neji Hyuuga. First, I want to be absolutely clear: I had no knowledge of any wrongdoing. Like everyone else, I believed Hinata was a passenger in a tragic accident. The discovery of new forensic evidence has been shocking and deeply troubling."

Pause for effect.

"I have spoken with Police Chief Yamamoto and offered my full cooperation with the investigation. I will not interfere. I will not obstruct. If the evidence shows that laws were broken, then whoever broke those laws—regardless of their relationship to me—should face justice. No one is above the law. Not my wife. Not me. No one."

Another pause.

"This is an extremely difficult time for my family. My children are young and don't understand what's happening. I ask the media to please respect their privacy during this investigation. As for my role as mayor—I will continue to serve this city to the best of my ability. If that becomes impossible, I will address it then. But for now, my focus is on ensuring justice is served and protecting my children."

"Mayor Uzumaki!" A reporter shouted. "Are you filing for divorce?"

"That's a private matter I won't discuss at this time."

"Do you believe your wife is guilty?"

"I believe in due process. I believe the investigation should proceed without interference. And I believe the truth will come out."

"Do you think this is a political hit job?"

"I think the forensic evidence speaks for itself. DNA doesn't have a political agenda."

"Will you resign as mayor?"

"Not at this time. But I'm prepared to do what's best for the city if the situation warrants it."

The press conference continued for twenty more minutes—variations of the same questions, variations of the same carefully worded non-answers. When it ended, Naruto's advisors were pleased.

"That was perfect. You looked strong but not defensive. Committed to justice but not condemning. Exactly the right tone."

Naruto nodded. But inside, he felt hollow. He'd just publicly thrown his wife to the wolves to protect his political career. And he'd done it while framing himself as the champion of justice.

This is who I am now, he thought. This is who I've always been. Sasuke was right about me all along.

Sasuke had been following the news all day. He'd watched Naruto's press conference with increasing disgust. When it ended, he turned to Sakura who was sitting with him on their couch.

"He's doing it again."

"What?"

"Choosing self-preservation over truth. Just like when he abandoned my father."

"Maybe he's genuinely horrified by what she did."

"Oh, I'm sure he is. But that's not why he's cooperating with police. He's cooperating to save his career. To distance himself from her crimes. To reframe himself as a victim instead of an accomplice."

"You think he knew?"

"About Neji? No. I think she successfully lied to him for several years. But I also think part of him never looked too closely because he didn't want to know. Because knowing would have been inconvenient."

Sakura was quiet for a moment, "Tenten must be devastated by this news. This is her truth more than anyone's."

"Should we call her?"

"I'll text. Let her know we're here if she needs us."

Sakura sent a simple message: "I saw the news about Hinata and Neji. I'm so sorry you're finding out this way. We're here if you need anything."

Tenten responded within minutes: "I can't believe it. For so many years she lied. She looked me in the eyes at his funeral and LIED. And I believed her. I blamed him for being careless. And all this time she killed him."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"I want to make a statement. To the media. To tell them what kind of person Neji really was. To make sure everyone knows this wasn't his fault."

"Do it. Tell his story. He deserves that."

"Will you be there? When I do it?"

"Absolutely. Just tell me when."

Chapter Text

Ages 35 - 36

The next morning, Tenten held her own press conference. She stood outside the Nagi courthouse, flanked by Sakura and Sasuke. Reporters crowded around—this was the fiancée of the victim, speaking for the first time since the news broke. Tenten had prepared remarks, but when she started speaking, emotion took over.

"My name is Tenten. Fifteen years ago, I was engaged to Neji Hyuuga. We were supposed to get married in three weeks. Instead, I went to his funeral. And for so many years, I've lived believing that Neji made a mistake. That he was tired and distracted and lost control of the car. I've carried guilt for being angry at him. For feeling like he threw away our future through carelessness."

Her voice broke.

"But now I know the truth. Neji didn't make a mistake. He didn't lose control. His cousin—the woman who was supposed to be his passenger—grabbed the wheel while drunk. She caused the crash that killed him. She framed him for his own death. She let me believe for a decade that the man I loved was reckless."

She looked directly at the cameras.

"Hinata Uzumaki murdered my fiancé. And then she destroyed his reputation. And I will never forgive that. Neji was a good man. He fought for workers' rights. He stood up to his family when they prioritized profit over human lives. He died because he dared to tell his cousin that her obsession with Naruto Uzumaki was unhealthy. And she killed him for it."

Reporters started shouting questions.

"Are you calling for Hinata Uzumaki's arrest?"

"I'm calling for justice. Which means a full investigation, a trial, and whatever punishment is appropriate for someone who committed vehicular manslaughter and then covered it up for fifteen years."

"Do you blame Mayor Uzumaki?"

"I don't know if he knew. But I do know he's been married to Neji's killer for years. I do know he built his political career while Neji's murderer stood beside him at every campaign event. And I do know that his response to this has been focused on protecting his career, not seeking justice. So yes, I blame him. Not for Neji's death, but for his response to it."

"What do you want to happen now?"

"I want Hinata Uzumaki arrested and tried. I want Neji's name cleared officially. And I want everyone to know what kind of man he really was—brave, principled, and absolutely not responsible for his own death."

The press conference continued for another thirty minutes. But the message was clear. Tenten wanted blood. And she wasn't going to let Naruto's political maneuvering distract from the truth.

Based on the overwhelming DNA evidence, the Nagi police arrested Hinata Uzumaki that afternoon. Cameras captured it all. Her walking out of her house in handcuffs. Boruto was watching from the window, confused and scared. Naruto arriving home just after it happened, his face carefully neutral. Hinata was booked into the precinct and stood to be fingerprinted and to take a mugshot.

The formal charges were:

• Vehicular manslaughter
• Evidence tampering
• Filing a false police report
• Fraud

Bail was set at $500,000.

Naruto posted it. Not because he'd forgiven her. But because having his wife in jail pending trial was terrible optics. She came home that evening—silent, broken, facing reality for the first time in fifteen years.

"What happens now?" she asked quietly.

"Now you get a lawyer. The best money can buy. You fight this in court. And we see if there's anything left of our lives when this is over."

"Do you still love me?"

Naruto looked at her—really looked at her—for the first time since learning the truth.

And realized he didn't know. He'd loved the person he thought she was. But that person had never existed.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Ask me when this is over."

It was the most honest thing he'd said in years.

Chapter Text

Ages 35 - 36

Naruto hired the best criminal defense attorney money could buy.

Tanaka Hiroshi—sixty years old, legendary, with a reputation for getting wealthy clients off on technicalities. He charged $800 an hour. It would cost Naruto his savings, his political war chest, possibly his house. But what choice did he have?

Tanaka met with Hinata in his downtown office.

"Tell me everything. And I mean everything. I can't defend you if I don't know what actually happened."

Hinata repeated the story—the family meeting, the drive, being drunk, Neji's lecture about her obsession, grabbing the wheel, the crash and about how she framed it so it seemed he was the one driving distracted.

Tanaka listened without interrupting. When she finished, he was quiet for a long time.

"This is bad."

"Can you win?"

"Win? No. The DNA evidence is conclusive. The physical evidence supports their narrative. We can't win this case."

"Then what can we do?"

"We can minimize the damage. Plead guilty to reduced charges. Argue for leniency based on the circumstances—you were young, drunk, panicked, made terrible choices in the moment but have lived with guilt for fifteen years."

"Will that work?"

"It's our best shot. If we go to trial, the prosecution will bury you. They have everything—DNA, physical evidence, and witness testimony about your obsession with Naruto. A jury will convict you in an hour. But if we negotiate a plea deal, you might get a lighter sentence."

"How light?"

"Eight to twelve years. Maybe less with good behavior."

Hinata felt the room spin.

"Eight to twelve years? My children will be teenagers by the time I get out."

"Your children will have a mother who's alive. If we go to trial, you're looking at twenty years minimum. Maybe life. This isn't a negotiation. This is damage control."

"What does Naruto think?"

"I haven't talked to him yet. But my guess is he wants this resolved quickly and quietly. A trial means months of testimony, all the details coming out, constant media coverage. A plea deal means one day of sentencing and then it's over."

"So, he wants me to plead guilty to make his life easier."

"He wants you to plead guilty because you ARE guilty. And because fighting this will destroy what's left of both your lives."

Hinata closed her eyes. Fifteen years of running from the truth. And now it had finally caught up.

After two weeks of negotiations, the prosecution offered a deal:

Plead guilty to:

• Involuntary manslaughter (reduced from vehicular manslaughter)
• Evidence tampering
• Filing a false police report

In exchange for a recommended sentence of ten to twelve years with the possibility of parole after eight years pending no trial. This would spare everyone the public spectacle. Hinata's attorney recommended accepting.

"This is as good as it's going to get. If we reject this, they'll go to trial with full charges and push for maximum sentences. You'd be looking at twenty-five years minimum."

"What does Naruto say?"

"He says it's your decision. But he also made it clear he thinks you should take the deal."

Of course he does, Hinata thought bitterly. Get me off the front pages so he can try to salvage his career.

But she was in no position to be bitter. She'd done this. All of it.

"I'll take the deal."

The courtroom was packed.

Media in every available seat. Sketch artists because cameras weren't allowed inside. Tenten was in the front row. Naruto sat in the back—not beside his wife, not in the family section, but alone in the general seating. Maximum distance while technically being present. The judge entered. Everyone stood.

"Case number 20--CR-00847, People v. Hinata Uzumaki. Are both sides ready to proceed?"

"Yes, Your Honor," both attorneys said.

"Mrs. Uzumaki, please stand."

Hinata stood, her attorney beside her. She looked small and broken. Nothing like the polished political wife who'd stood beside Mayor Uzumaki at countless events.

"Mrs. Uzumaki, you are charged with involuntary manslaughter, evidence tampering, and filing a false police report in connection with the death of Neji Hyuuga. How do you plead?"

Silence. The judge waited. Finally, Hinata spoke, her voice barely audible: "Guilty."

"I need you to speak up, please."

"Guilty. I plead guilty to all charges."

"Are you making this plea of your own free will?"

"Yes."

"Has anyone threatened you or pressured you to plead guilty?"

"No."

"Do you understand that by pleading guilty, you are waiving your right to a trial?"

"Yes."

"And do you understand the potential sentencing range for these charges?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

The judge turned to the prosecutor. "Does the state accept this plea?"

"We do, Your Honor."

"Then I accept the guilty plea. Sentencing will be scheduled for four weeks from today. Mrs. Uzumaki, you will remain free on bail until that time. Court is adjourned."

The gavel struck. It was over in less than ten minutes. Fifteen years of lies. Neji's death. Tenten's grief. All reduced to a ten-minute court proceeding. As Hinata left the courtroom, she passed Tenten.

Their eyes met.

Hinata opened her mouth—maybe to apologize, maybe to explain. But Tenten's expression stopped her cold. Pure hatred. No forgiveness. No understanding. No mercy. Just contempt.

Hinata kept walking. Outside, reporters swarmed.

"Mrs. Uzumaki! Why did you kill Neji Hyuuga?"

"Mrs. Uzumaki! Do you regret what you did?"

"Mrs. Uzumaki! What do you want to say to Tenten?"

Her attorney shielded her, pushing through to the waiting car. No comment. No statement. Nothing.

That night, Naruto and Hinata sat in their living room. The children were in bed—Boruto was confused about why his mother had to go to court and Himawari seemed not to understand much of anything. Kawaki watched the whole disaster with grim satisfaction.

"How are you feeling?" Naruto asked, because he felt like he should say something.

"How do you think I'm feeling? I just pleaded guilty to killing my cousin. In four weeks, I'll be sentenced to prison. My life is over."

"You did this. You made these choices."

"I know."

"Then why did you do it? Why grab the wheel? Why lie for thirteen years? WHY?"

"Because I loved you!" She was crying now. "Because I'd loved you since I was six years old and I would have done anything—ANYTHING—to be with you! And when Neji told me it was obsession, when he said I needed help, when he wouldn't stop talking about how unhealthy I was—I snapped! I just wanted him to shut up! I didn't mean to crash! I didn't mean to kill him!"

"But you did. And then you chose to lie about it."

"I was scared! I was nineteen and drunk and I'd just killed someone and I panicked! I made a terrible choice and I've regretted it every day since!"

"Not enough to confess. Not enough to tell me the truth before we got married. Not enough to give Tenten closure."

"I know! I KNOW! But what was I supposed to do? Confess and go to prison and lose everything? Including you?"

"Yes! That's exactly what you should have done! Face the consequences of your actions instead of building a life on top of a corpse!"

They stared at each other—all the anger, all the betrayal, all the wasted years hanging between them.

"Are you going to divorce me?" Hinata asked quietly.

Naruto was silent for a long time.

"I don't know. Right now, I can barely look at you. But you're the mother of my children. And they're going to need stability while you're in prison. So maybe we stay married. Maybe we don't. I don't know yet."

"Very principled."

"Don't. Don't you dare act like I'm the bad guy here. You killed someone. You lied to me for over a decade. You built our entire marriage on a foundation of murder. I'm trying to figure out how to explain to our children why their mother is going to prison. So forgive me if I don't have my feelings sorted out yet!"

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't fix anything."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a while longer. Then Naruto stood.

"I'm sleeping in the guest room. I can't—I can't be near you right now."

He left her sitting alone in the living room of their expensive house. Everything she'd wanted. Everything she'd lied for. And none of it mattered anymore.

April 1st: Media Circus

Over the next few weeks, the media frenzy intensified.

Every detail of the case was dissected:

"The Obsession That Led to Murder"

Articles about how Hinata had been fixated on Naruto since childhood.

Interviews with old classmates: "She always talked about him. It was kind of weird, honestly."

"Neji Hyuuga: The Hero We Forgot"

Profiles of Neji's activism, his fight for workers' rights, his courage in standing up to his family.

Tenten gave multiple interviews, painting a picture of the man she'd lost: "Neji was the best person I ever knew. He cared about justice, about protecting people who couldn't protect themselves. He died trying to help his cousin—telling her that her obsession was unhealthy, that she needed help. And she killed him for it."

"Mayor Uzumaki: Victim or Enabler?"

Op-eds debating whether Naruto had enabled Hinata's behavior.

Some defended him: "He didn't know. He was deceived like everyone else."

Others were skeptical: "He was married to her for years. He never noticed anything wrong? Never suspected she might be hiding something?"

Naruto's approval ratings continued to drop. From 60% before the scandal to 35% now. Still above water, but barely. Calls for his resignation intensified.

"How can we trust a mayor who didn't know his own wife was a murderer?"

"What else might he be blind to?"

"He needs to step down and let someone with judgment lead this town."

Naruto refused to resign.

"I was deceived. I'm dealing with the consequences. But I can still serve this city effectively."

But everyone could see the truth. He was clinging to power because it was all he had left.

Sasuke had been following the news but stayed quiet publicly. Until Naruto made a statement that pushed him over the edge.

In an interview, Naruto said: "I understand why people are upset. But I want to be clear—I'm a victim in this too. I was lied to. Manipulated. I built my life with someone who was hiding a terrible secret. I deserve compassion too."

When Sasuke saw that interview, he felt rage boil over. The next day, Sasuke gave an interview to a major newspaper.

"Former Friend: Mayor Uzumaki Has Pattern of Choosing Politics Over Truth"

The interviewer asked about Naruto's claims of being victimized.

Sasuke's response was cold and precise: "Naruto Uzumaki wants the public to see him as a victim. But the truth is, he's been choosing political convenience over truth his entire career. When my father—Fugaku Uchiha—was being framed for corruption, Naruto stayed silent because defending him would have been politically risky. My father died from the stress of those false accusations. And Naruto's response was a carefully worded statement about 'letting the process work.' Sound familiar?"

"Are you saying Mayor Uzumaki has a pattern—"

"I'm saying Naruto Uzumaki only cares about truth when it's politically convenient. When my father needed him, he disappeared. When his wife's crimes were exposed, he immediately started calculating how to minimize damage to his career. He frames everything as 'seeking justice' but what he's actually seeking is self-preservation. He's not a victim. He's a politician who got caught."

"That's harsh—"

"That's accurate. And the citizens of Nagi deserve to know who they elected. Someone who talks about integrity but doesn't live it. Someone who says truth matters but only when it doesn't cost him anything."

The interview went viral.

#NarutoTakeAccountability trended on social media. Opinion pieces debated whether Sasuke was being fair or vindictive. But the damage was done. Naruto's reputation—already badly wounded—took another massive hit.

Naruto held a press conference to respond to Sasuke's allegations.

"I understand Sasuke Uchiha is angry. He lost his father. That's tragic. But his claims about my response to that situation are unfair and inaccurate. I expressed concern. I called for a thorough investigation. I did what was appropriate given my position."

A reporter pushed back: "But you didn't publicly defend Fugaku Uchiha when he was being framed."

"I couldn't insert myself into an active investigation. That would have been inappropriate."

"But after he was exonerated, you never personally apologized to the Uchiha family for not supporting them."

"I issued a public statement—"

"A political statement. Not a personal apology."

Naruto was visibly frustrated. "Look, I'm not perfect. Maybe I could have done more. But Sasuke's characterization of me as someone who doesn't care about truth is wrong. I've dedicated my life to public service—"

"Your wife killed someone and covered it up for fifteen years. Did you really not notice anything?"

"I was deceived—"

"For over a decade and a half? You never suspected anything?"

"No! She was a good actress! I believed her lies like everyone else believed them!"

The press conference devolved from there. Naruto grew more defensive and angrier. He was not projecting the calm leadership people wanted. When it ended, his chief of staff pulled him aside.

"That was bad. You looked guilty."

"I'm not guilty of anything!"

"Then stop acting like you are. Stop being defensive. Stop trying to justify yourself. Either own your mistakes or move on. But this constant 'I was deceived' narrative makes you look weak."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know anymore. Maybe Uchiha's right. Maybe you do always choose politics over truth. And maybe that's finally caught up with you."

His chief of staff walked away. Naruto stood alone in city hall. Everything he'd built was crumbling. And for the first time, he couldn't find a way out.

The courtroom was even more crowded than it had been for the guilty plea. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for. How long would Hinata Uzumaki go to prison? The judge called the court to order.

"Mrs. Uzumaki, please stand."

Hinata stood, flanked by her attorney.

She'd lost weight. Looked gaunt. Exhausted.

"Before I impose sentencing, does the defense wish to make a statement?"

Her attorney spoke: "Your Honor, my client has pleaded guilty to serious crimes. She doesn't deny her responsibility. She doesn't claim to be innocent. But I ask the court to consider the circumstances. She was nineteen years old. She was intoxicated. She made a terrible decision in a moment of panic. She has lived with guilt for fifteen years. She has two young children and a foster son who need their mother. She is not a danger to society. She made one catastrophic mistake as a teenager and has paid for it emotionally every day since. I ask for leniency—eight years, with possibility of parole after five."

The judge turned to the prosecutor.

"Does the state wish to make a statement?"

"Yes, Your Honor. The state acknowledges that Mrs. Uzumaki was young when this crime occurred. But youth is not an excuse for what she did. She didn't just cause a fatal accident. She deliberately covered it up. She filed a false police report. She lied to investigators. She let the victim's fiancée believe for fifteen years that he was responsible for his own death. She attended his funeral and maintained her lies. She built a life—marriage, children, political prominence—all while hiding murder. This wasn't a mistake. This was a calculated series of choices. The state asks for fifteen years, with parole eligibility after ten."

The judge looked at Hinata.

"Mrs. Uzumaki, do you wish to make a statement before sentencing?"

Hinata's attorney had prepared remarks.

But when Hinata spoke, she abandoned the script: "I killed Neji Hyuuga. I grabbed the wheel while drunk because I was angry that he was telling me truths I didn't want to hear. And then, instead of facing what I'd done, I lied to the police. I lied to his fiancée. I lied to my husband. I lied to everyone for thirteen years. And I don't have a good reason why. I was scared. I was selfish. I wanted what I wanted and I didn't care who got hurt."

She looked at Tenten, who was sitting in the front row.

"Tenten, I'm sorry. I know that doesn't fix anything. I know sorry doesn't bring Neji back. But I am sorry. For killing him. For lying to you. For letting you believe he was reckless when I was the one who caused the crash. I'm sorry."

She turned back to the judge.

"I deserve whatever sentence you give me. I don't ask for mercy. I just ask that my children—who had nothing to do with this—are protected from the fallout of my crimes. They're innocent. Whatever happens to me, please don't let it destroy them."

The courtroom was silent. The judge took a long moment before speaking:

"Mrs. Uzumaki, I've presided over many cases in my career. And I've learned that there are two types of defendants. Those who make mistakes and immediately try to make them right. And those who make mistakes and then spend years covering them up, digging deeper, destroying more lives in the process. You are the second type. You didn't just kill Neji Hyuuga. You destroyed his reputation. You caused his fiancée fifteen years of unnecessary guilt and grief. You built a life on a foundation of lies. And you only confessed when DNA evidence made continued lying impossible. That is not remorse. That is being caught."

Hinata's face went pale.

"However, I do believe you were young and intoxicated when the initial crime occurred. And I do believe you've lived with guilt. And I do acknowledge your children need consideration. Therefore, I sentence you to twelve years in prison, with possibility of parole after eight years. You will also be required to pay restitution to the victim's estate in the amount of $100,000. And you are prohibited from profiting from this crime in any way—no book deals, no movie rights, no media interviews for compensation."

The gavel struck. Twelve years. Hinata felt her knees buckle. Her attorney caught her.

"We can appeal—"

"No. No appeal. I deserve this."

She was taken into custody immediately. Led out of the courtroom in handcuffs. Past Tenten, whose expression was satisfied but not happy. Past Sasuke and Sakura, who watched silently. Past Naruto, who couldn't meet her eyes. And out of the courthouse to a waiting police van that would take her to prison. Her life—as she'd known it—was over.

Naruto returned home to chaos.

Boruto was crying. "Where's Mommy? When is she coming home?"

"She's not coming home for a long time."

"Why not?"

"Because she did something very bad and has to go to prison."

"But I want Mommy!"

"I know. But that's not possible right now."

Himawari was crying because her brother was crying.

Kawaki watched all of it silently. Finally, he thought. Finally she faces consequences. He'd known the Uzumaki household was toxic. Now everyone else knew it too. Naruto's phone was ringing constantly—advisors, donors, reporters, everyone wanting statements or explanations or commitments.

He ignored all of it. Just sat in his home office, staring at old photos. Him and Hinata at their wedding. Him and Hinata with newborn Boruto. The perfect political family. All of it a lie. Built on murder and obsession and years of deception.

How did I not see it? he wondered. How did I miss all the signs?

But deep down, he knew the answer: Because he hadn't wanted to see. Because asking questions would have been inconvenient. Because he'd prioritized his career and his comfort over truth. Just like Sasuke had always said.

Tenten sat alone in her apartment, staring at a photo of Neji. Taken two weeks before he died. Him smiling at the camera, arm around her, planning their wedding.

"It's over," she whispered to the photo. "She admitted it. She's going to prison. Justice is served."

But she didn't feel satisfied. She felt empty. Because Neji was still dead. Twelve years in prison didn't bring him back. Nothing brought him back. She'd spent fifteen years believing he'd been careless. Hating him for throwing away their future. And now she knew—he'd tried to help his cousin. He'd told her uncomfortable truths. And she'd killed him for it.

"I'm sorry," Tenten whispered to the photo. "I'm sorry I blamed you. I'm sorry I was angry at you. You didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve any of this."

The photo, of course, didn't answer. But somehow, finally, Tenten felt like she could start healing. Not moving on—she'd never move on from Neji. But healing. Accepting. Letting go of the false guilt she'd carried for so many years.

Chapter Text

Age 37

Naruto stared at the polling data on his desk.

Approval rating: 28%.

Among voters under 40: 15%.

Among women: 22%.

He was in free fall.

His chief of staff—who'd been with him since his city council days—laid out the brutal truth: "You're not going to survive re-election. The numbers don't lie. Your base has abandoned you. Your donors are pulling back. Your political allies are distancing themselves. You're toxic right now."

"It'll blow over. People have short memories."

"This won't blow over. Your wife murdered someone and covered it up for fifteen years while you built a political career with her by your side. Every photo of you two together is now being reframed as 'Mayor with Murderer.' That's not something voters forget."

"What are you suggesting? That I resign?"

"I'm suggesting you read the room. You have two years left in your term. You can serve them out quietly, try to rebuild your reputation through actual work instead of speeches. Or you can announce you're not seeking re-election and bow out with some dignity."

"I'm not quitting."

"Then you're going to lose. Badly. And it's going to be humiliating."

"I don't care."

But he did care. He'd always cared about winning, about success, about his political future. And now, for the first time, he was facing the very real possibility that it was over. All of it. The mayoral career. The governor dreams. The legacy he'd wanted to build. Gone. Because he'd chosen the wrong partner. Because he'd never asked the right questions. Because he'd prioritized appearances over truth.

Just like Sasuke always said.

Life in the Uzumaki home was chaos. Boruto was acting out constantly—tantrums, defiance, aggressive behavior at school.

"My mommy's in prison because she made a mistake! That doesn't make her bad!"

Himawari was regressing—nightmares, bedwetting, clinging behavior.

Kawaki was counting days until his eighteenth birthday in three months when he could legally leave.

Naruto was barely functioning—working during the day, coming home to screaming children, collapsing in exhaustion. He'd hired a nanny—expensive, but necessary since he couldn't parent three children alone. But money was getting tight.

Legal fees for Hinata's case cost $150,000. The restitution to Neji's estate cost $100,000. The nanny and childcare services cost $40,000 a year. His mayoral salary was good but not infinite. And political donations had dried up completely. He was hemorrhaging money and reputation simultaneously. One evening, after putting the kids to bed, he sat alone with a glass of whiskey and called the one person he thought might understand.

Mr. Jiraiya. His old high school teacher.

"Hey, old man."

"Naruto. How are you holding up?"

"I'm not. Everything is falling apart. Hinata's in prison. My kids are traumatized. My career is over. My best friend hates me. I don't know what to do."

"What do you want me to say?"

"That it'll get better? That I'll survive this?"

"Will you survive? Yes. People survive worse. But will it get better? That depends on you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you have a choice right now. You can keep trying to manage appearances, keep calculating, keep prioritizing your image. Or you can actually face what happened. Actually examine your choices. Actually become the person you've always claimed to be."

"I am that person—"

"No, you're not. You're a politician who says the right things but doesn't live them. You always have been. I've watched you for years—every time there's a choice between what's right and what's convenient, you choose convenient. And now it's caught up with you."

"You sound like Sasuke."

"Maybe Sasuke is right."

Silence.

"What should I do?"

"That's up to you. But I'll tell you this—if you want any chance of redemption, of actually becoming the person you claim to be, you need to start with honesty. With yourself and with everyone else. Stop performing. Just... be honest about who you are and what you've done."

"And if being honest means admitting I've failed?"

"Then admit it. Failure you acknowledge is better than success built on lies."

After they hung up, Naruto sat in silence. He'd spent his entire life building an image. The orphan who became mayor. The champion of justice and truth. The family man with traditional values. All of it carefully crafted, carefully maintained. And all of it a lie. Not intentionally, maybe. But a lie nonetheless.

Who am I really? he wondered. When I strip away the speeches and the image and the performance—who am I?

He didn't have an answer and that terrified him.

Sasuke came home from work to find Sakura waiting with a serious expression.

"We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About whether we stay in Tokyo."

Sasuke set down his briefcase. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this whole situation with Naruto and Hinata has made me realize something. We came back to this region—you took this job; I did my residency here—partially because this is where our families are with how close it is to Nagi. Nagi is where our history is. But it's also where all the corruption and lies and political games are. And I'm tired of it."

"Where is this coming from?"

"I had lunch with Tenten last week. She's thinking about moving—starting over somewhere new where she's not 'Neji's widow' or 'the woman whose fiancé was murdered.' Just... Tenten. And it made me think why are we staying here? What's keeping us?"

"What about our jobs—"

“I can quickly find a job in any hospital. You can also find a job too with your skills. After all corporate corruption cases exist everywhere."

"But my mother and Itachi are in Nagi."

"And they'll understand if we leave. Sasuke, I want to raise Sarada somewhere that isn't tainted by all this. Somewhere she doesn't have to deal with ‘weren’t your parents’ friends with that disgraced mayor' or 'your dad's investigation firm handled the case that exposed the Nagi mayor's wife.' I want her to grow up somewhere clean. Somewhere fresh."

"Where are you thinking?"

"Hokkaido. It’s a northern island, far from Nagi politics, and has beautiful scenery. There are good schools there. There are Hospitals that need surgeons. We could start over. Build a life that's ours, not connected to all this history."

Sasuke sat down, processing this. Leave Tokyo. Leave his job. Start completely fresh. It was tempting.

"What about Sarada? Uprooting her from her school, her friends?"

"She's seven. Kids adapt at that age. And honestly, I think she'd thrive with a fresh start. No baggage. No comparisons. Just being herself."

"Let me think about it."

"Of course. But Sasuke—I'm serious about this. I want out. I want away from people like Naruto who claim to value truth but only when it's convenient. I want to live somewhere that isn't drowning in political corruption."

"I understand. Give me a few days to think it through."

But even as he said it, Sasuke knew what his answer would be. Because Sakura was right. They'd spent their entire lives in the shadow of other people's corruption. His father, destroyed by powerful people seeking revenge. Neji, killed by obsession and lies. Naruto, becoming the very thing he'd claimed to oppose. Maybe it was time to leave all of that behind.

To build something new, somewhere clean. To raise their daughter away from the weight of all this history.

Sasuke visited his mother to tell her about the potential move.

She was in her garden, tending vegetables—something she'd taken up after Fugaku's death to keep herself busy.

"Mom, I need to talk to you about something."

"That sounds serious. Come, sit."

They sat on the garden bench—the same one where Fugaku used to sit, reading case files, thinking through investigations.

"Sakura wants to move to Hokkaido. And I think I agree."

Mikoto was quiet for a moment.

"Tell me why."

"Because we're tired of all this. The corruption, the politics, the lies. Naruto becoming exactly what he claimed to oppose. Hinata destroying lives for her obsession. All of it. We want to raise Sarada somewhere clean. Somewhere we're not constantly reminded of betrayal and injustice."

"That's understandable."

"You're not upset?"

"Upset? No. I lost my husband to this city's corruption. I watched my son lose his best friend to political cowardice. I'm not upset that you want to leave. I'm sad I won't see Sarada as often, but I understand completely."

"We'd visit. Holidays, summer breaks. And you could come see us."

"I know. And I will." Mikoto took his hand. "Sasuke, your father would support this decision. He spent his life fighting corruption here because he felt obligated. But he would never want you to feel that same obligation. He'd want you to build the best life possible for your family. If that's in Hokkaido, then go."

"What about you? Would you consider moving with us?"

"No. My life is here. Itachi is here. Your father's grave is here. But I'll be fine. And I'll visit. Often."

"Thank you, Mom. For understanding."

"Of course. You're doing what's right for your family. That's what good men do."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun set over the garden.

"When will you tell Sarada?" Mikoto finally asked.

"Soon. We're planning to move in August, right before the school year starts. Give her time to adjust to the idea but not so much time she gets anxious about it."

"She'll be fine. She's tough. Like her father."

"And her mother."

"Yes. That too."

Sasuke and Sakura sat Sarada down one evening for a family meeting. At seven years old, she was smart enough to know something important was happening.

"Are you guys getting divorced?" she asked immediately.

"What? No! Why would you think that?"

"Because Takeru's parents had a family meeting and then they got divorced."

"We're not getting divorced. We love each other very much. But we are making a big change."

"What kind of change?"

"We're moving. To Hokkaido. It's in northern Japan—beautiful mountains, lots of nature, good schools."

Sarada processed this. "Why?"

"Because we want a fresh start. Somewhere new. Somewhere we can build a life that's just ours."

"What about my friends?"

"You'll make new friends."

"What about Grandma Mikoto and Uncle Itachi?"

"They'll visit. And we'll visit them. You'll still see them regularly."

"Will I have to change schools?"

"Yes. But the school there is supposed to be excellent. Lots of opportunities for science and art and everything you love."

Sarada was quiet for a long time.

Then, "Is this because of Mayor Uzumaki?"

Sasuke and Sakura exchanged glances.

"What makes you say that?"

"I heard you talking. About how he chose politics over being a good friend. About how his wife killed someone. About how you don't want to be around that anymore."

They'd tried to keep those conversations private. But kids heard more than adults realized.

"Partially, yes," Sasuke said honestly. "But mostly, it's because we want to live somewhere where we're not surrounded by corruption and lies. Somewhere we can focus on what matters—family, integrity, building a good life."

"Will Mayor Uzumaki come to Hokkaido?"

"No. We won't be seeing him anymore."

"Because he chose wrong?"

"Yes."

"Good. He seems like a jerk."

Despite everything, Sasuke smiled, "Where did you learn that word?"

"School. But it's true, isn't it? He was supposed to be your friend but he wasn't a good friend. So,  he's a jerk."

"Yes. He is."

"Then I'm glad we're leaving. I don't want to be around jerks."

"That's... a very healthy attitude."

"Can I bring my microscope?"

"Of course. We'll bring everything important."

"Then okay. I'll move to Hokkaido. But I get to decorate my new room however I want."

"Deal."

Sarada went back to her homework, apparently satisfied. Sakura looked at Sasuke with amazement.

"That went better than expected."

"She's remarkably adaptable."

"She gets that from us."

"Yes. She does."

Naruto heard about Sasuke's planned move through the grapevine—a mutual acquaintance mentioned it casually.

"Did you hear Sasuke Uchiha is moving to Hokkaido? Taking his whole family up north. Fresh start, apparently."

Naruto felt something twist in his chest. Sasuke was leaving. Not just ending their friendship—they'd done that years ago. But physically removing himself from the entire region. Making it permanent. That evening, against his better judgment, Naruto called Sasuke's cell phone.

It rang four times. Then Sasuke answered the call.

"What do you want, Naruto?"

"I heard you're moving."

"Yes."

"To Hokkaido."

"Yes."

"That's... that's really far."

"That's the point."

"Can we talk? In person? Before you leave?"

"No."

"Sasuke, please. I know you hate me. I know I've failed you repeatedly. But we were best friends for twenty plus years. Don't I at least deserve a goodbye?"

"You don't deserve anything from me. You made your choices. I made mine. Now we both live with them."

"I'm trying to be better—"

"Are you? Or are you just trying to salvage your career and your image? Because from where I'm standing, you haven't actually changed. You're still performing and still choosing what's convenient over what's right."

"That's not fair—"

"It's completely fair. When your wife was arrested, your first move was to calculate how to minimize damage to yourself. When I called you out publicly, you held a press conference to defend yourself instead of actually reflecting on your choices. When your approval rating tanked, you started scrambling to rebuild your image. Everything you do is still about managing appearances. You haven't learned anything."

"What do you want from me?!"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I want you to leave me alone. To let me build a life far away from people like you who claim to value integrity but don't actually live it. I want my daughter to grow up never knowing what kind of person you really are."

"Sasuke—"

"We're done. Permanently. Don't call me again. Don't try to visit. Don't send messages or anything. We're not friends. We're not even acquaintances. We're strangers who happen to share a childhood. That's all."

"I'm sorry. For everything. I know that doesn't fix anything, but—"

"You're right. It doesn't. Goodbye, Naruto."

Sasuke hung up.

Naruto sat holding his phone, feeling the finality of it.

Chapter Text

Age 37

The Uchihas spent the first two weeks of August packing up their Tokyo apartment. Sorting through belongings. Deciding what to keep, what to donate, what to leave behind.

"This is exciting," Sarada said, helping pack her books. "Like an adventure."

"It is an adventure," Sakura agreed. "A new chapter in our lives."

Sasuke was packing his office when he found an old photo. Him and Naruto, age nine, at the park. Both grinning at the camera. Arms around each other's shoulders. Best friends forever, the caption read in childish handwriting.

He stared at it for a long time. Then he put it in a box labeled "Storage—Do Not Unpack." Not throwing it away. But not displaying it either. Just... acknowledging it existed while moving forward.

"You okay?" Sakura asked, noticing his expression.

"Yeah. Just... processing."

"Do you regret it? Ending the friendship so completely?"

"No. I regret that the person I thought Naruto was never really existed. But I don't regret ending the friendship. That was the right choice."

"Good. Because we're building something better in Hokkaido."

"Yes. We are."

Tenten stopped by one last time before they left.

"So this is really happening."

"This is really happening."

"I'm going to miss you guys."

"We'll miss you too. But you're welcome to visit anytime. Hokkaido is beautiful."

"I might take you up on that. I'm thinking about moving myself—maybe international. Teaching English in Europe or something. Get as far from all this as possible."

"That sounds perfect for you."

"Yeah. I think I need distance. From Nagi, from the memories, from all of it."

They hugged goodbye—friends bonded by shared trauma, shared values, shared understanding that sometimes the only way forward is to leave everything behind.

The moving truck was loaded. The apartment was empty. Keys turned in to the landlord. Sasuke, Sakura, and Sarada stood in the empty living room one last time.

"Ready?" Sakura asked.

"Ready," Sasuke confirmed.

"Let's go to Hokkaido!" Sarada said, excited.

They loaded into their car—everything they owned either in the truck or in the vehicle with them. As they drove out of Tokyo, heading north, Sarada asked, "Daddy, will you miss it here?"

"Parts of it. There were some good memories. But also a lot of bad ones. And I think Hokkaido will give us the chance to make more good memories without all the bad stuff hanging over us."

"That makes sense."

They drove in comfortable silence for a while.

Then Sarada, reading a book in the back seat, said casually, "I'm glad we're leaving the jerks behind."

Sasuke and Sakura both laughed.

"Yes," Sasuke agreed. "We're leaving the jerks behind."

"Good. Because I don't want to be around people who choose wrong when they know what's right."

"Where did you learn that?"

"From you. You always say integrity matters more than anything. And that you can tell what someone values by watching what they do, not what they say."

"That's exactly right."

"Mayor Uzumaki says he values truth but he doesn't act like it. Which means he's lying. And liars are jerks."

"That's... surprisingly astute for a seven-year-old."

"I'm smart. You guys tell me that all the time."

"You are smart."

They drove north, toward their new life, leaving behind the weight of years of lies, betrayal, and broken friendships.

Their new home was modest—a two-story house on the outskirts of Sapporo. Bigger than their Tokyo apartment but still affordable on their combined salaries. There was a large backyard with mountain views. And there was a good school district. Everything they'd wanted.

As they unloaded boxes, Sarada explored the house, calling out discoveries.

"My room is bigger!"

"There's a tree I can climb in the backyard!"

"The neighbor has a dog!"

Sasuke and Sakura stood on the back porch, watching Sarada run around the yard, and felt something they hadn't felt in years. Peace.

"This was the right choice," Sakura said.

"Yes. It was."

"Think we'll be happy here?"

"I think we'll build a life here that's ours. Based on values we actually believe in, not just talk about. Away from politics and corruption and people who perform integrity without living it. Yes, I think we'll be happy."

"Good. Because I'm done with the weight of other people's lies."

"Me too."

Sarada ran up to the porch. "Can we get a dog?"

"Maybe. Let's get settled first."

"Okay! This is the best house ever!"

She ran off to continue exploring.

"She's going to love it here," Sakura observed.

"She is. And so will we."

They stood there, watching the sunset over the mountains, and felt the weight of the past thirteen years finally lifting. Neji's murder. Fugaku's death. Naruto's betrayal. Hinata's lies.

All of it was behind them now. Not forgotten—never forgotten. But no longer defining them. They were building something new. And for the first time in years, the future felt full of possibility instead of just more disappointment.

Naruto sat in his office, staring at polling data that continued to get worse. His chief of staff entered, "I'm giving my two-week notice."

"What?"

"I'm done. This administration is toxic. My reputation is taking a hit just by association. I need to get out."

"You're abandoning me too?"

"I'm making a smart career move. Something you should have done months ago."

"I can rebuild—"

"No. You can't. This is over, Naruto. Your political career is finished. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on with your life."

After his chief of staff left, Naruto sat alone in his office.

Everything he'd worked for—gone. His wife—in prison. His best friend—moved to another island to get away from him. His reputation—destroyed. His future—uncertain at best. And all of it because he'd spent years choosing convenience over truth. Performing instead of being.

Sasuke was right about me, he finally admitted to himself. He was always right.

I became exactly what I claimed to oppose. And now I'm paying for it.

He put his head in his hands and wondered if redemption was even possible. Or if he'd destroyed too much to ever rebuild.

Chapter Text

Age 39

The investigation firm Sasuke joined in Sapporo specialized in corporate fraud—familiar territory. He was good at it. Respected. But more importantly, he came home for dinner every night at 6 pm. Sarada was nine now, thriving in school, passionate about science and justice in equal measure.

"Dad, why do people lie when they know they'll get caught eventually?"

"Because they convince themselves they won't get caught. Or that the benefits outweigh the risks."

"That's stupid."

"Yes. But common."

Sakura was now a trauma surgeon at Sapporo Medical Center. She saved lives. She came home exhausted but fulfilled. They had friends, based on shared values rather than shared history. They hiked on weekends. Had game nights. Lived quietly. No politics. No corruption. No weight of the past.

Just... life.

Simple. Honest. Good.

"Do you ever regret leaving Tokyo?" Sakura asked one evening.

"Never. You?"

"Not once. This is what I wanted—a life based on what we believe, not what we're running from."

"We got it."

"Yes. We did."

Naruto didn't run for re-election.

At age 39, he issued a brief statement: "After careful consideration, I've decided not to seek another term as mayor. I need to focus on my family during this difficult time. Thank you to everyone who believed in me."

It was the closest he came to admitting defeat. He took a job at a non-profit—decent pay, no spotlight, helping with community development. It was honest work but a massive step down from mayor.

Nine-year-old Boruto was still difficult—he was angry, entitled, and acting out constantly.

"Why isn't Mom here?"

"Because she's in prison."

"But other kids have moms!"

"I know. I'm sorry."

Himawari at age seven was anxious, clingy, and seeing a therapist twice a week. Kawaki had left the moment he turned 18—joined the military, cut contact with the family completely.

Good for him, Naruto thought.

Naruto's reputation never recovered. He was "the former mayor whose wife was a murderer." That's what he'd be known as forever. Some days, he thought about what Sasuke had said:

You only care about truth when it's convenient. You perform integrity without living it.You became exactly what you claimed to oppose.

It was all true. He'd spent his entire life calculating, performing, choosing political safety. And it had cost him everything. Some days, he thought about calling Sasuke. Apologizing. Really apologizing, without the political framing. But he never did. Because what would be the point?

Sasuke had moved on. Built a life far away.

And Naruto... Naruto was still here, living with the consequences of his choices.

Tenten moved to France at age 38. She taught English and lived in a small apartment in Lyon. Dated occasionally but nothing serious. She'd made peace with Neji's death—not moved on, but made peace.

He tried to help her. She killed him for it. She's paying for it. That's as close to justice as I'll get.

She kept a photo of him on her nightstand. Sometimes she talked to it.

"I finally stopped blaming you. Took fifteen years, but I got there."

The photo, of course, didn't answer. But somehow it felt like he heard her.

Hinata had been in prison for three years. Nine more to go before parole eligibility. She worked in the prison library. Kept to herself. Caused no trouble. Her cellmate asked one day: "What are you in for?"

"I killed my cousin in a drunk driving accident and covered it up for fifteen years."

"Damn. That's heavy. You regret it?"

"Every day. But regret doesn't fix anything."

"No. It doesn't."

Naruto brought the children to visit once a month. Boruto never forgave her, he was sullen and angry. He blamed her for ruining their family.

Himawari cried every visit—"When are you coming home, Mommy?"

"Not for a long time, sweetheart."

She'd lost everything. Her freedom. Her children's respect. Her marriage—Naruto had filed for divorce at year ago.  All for an obsession that had never really been love.

I destroyed so many lives, she thought. Neji's. Tenten's. My children's. Naruto's. My own. And for what?

Some nights, she dreamed about the crash. About grabbing the wheel. About Neji's face in those last seconds before impact. She'd wake up gasping, covered in sweat. The nightmares never stopped. She deserved that.

Mikoto divided her time between Nagi, where Itachi lived, and Hokkaido, visiting Sasuke's family. She was proud of her youngest son. He'd survived so much—Fugaku's death, Naruto's betrayal, all the corruption—and emerged with his integrity intact.

"You did good, Fugaku," she said one day at his grave. "Our son turned out exactly like you wanted. Someone who values truth over comfort. Someone who can't be bought or intimidated. Someone who actually lives the values you taught him."

The grave didn't answer.

But she felt Fugaku's presence anyway. Proud. At peace. Their son had survived the weight of silence. And built something beautiful despite it.

Chapter Text

Age 49

Sarada was seventeen now—brilliant, driven, passionate about justice like her father. She wanted to be a prosecutor.

"Someone has to hold powerful people accountable," she explained. "Someone who can't be bought or intimidated."

"You sound like your grandfather," Sasuke said.

"Good. He was a hero."

She'd grown up hearing stories about grampa Fugaku—the investigator who'd exposed corruption, who'd been framed by his enemies, who'd died defending his integrity. He was her role model.

"Will you tell me about what happened all those years ago?" she asked one day.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why you stopped being friends with the disgraced Mayor?"

"Because he repeatedly chose political convenience over truth. And I couldn't respect that."

"Was he a bad person?"

"No. He was a weak person. Which is sometimes worse."

"How?"

"Bad people know they're bad. Weak people convince themselves they're good while doing bad things. That's more dangerous."

"That makes sense."

Sarada would go on to attend Tokyo University like her father and mother before her. She would become exactly what she'd promised—a prosecutor who couldn't be bought. Who held powerful people accountable. Who lived the values several generations of Uchihas had died for and survived for. The legacy continued.

Naruto was still working at the non-profit. He never remarried and never returned to politics. Boruto at age seventeen had turned out angry and entitled. He constantly got himself into trouble and always blamed everyone else for his problems. Himawari was struggling with abandonment issues at age fifteen.

Hinata had been released on parole after serving several years— for good behavior. She lived alone in a small apartment and saw her children occasionally. They were polite but distant. She'd lost everything that mattered.

Naruto thought about Sasuke and Sakura sometimes. Wondered what they were doing. Wondered if they were happy. But he never reached out.

THE END