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He was well aware that he wasn’t the easiest to live with. At this point, he barely blamed himself anymore. It was different, now that he was trying everything offered; talking to someone, meditating on it, waking up early, sleeping in.
None of it helped the way his body tensed, nor with his endless sleepless nights, but it had soothed the guilt. At least he was trying.
Naruto had woken up with him from multiple nightmares, giving up his own sleep in the process. His voice was so low and soothing these days, that Sasuke sometimes found himself regretting not being there for his voice change. He’d returned and the loud mouthed boy he once knew was nothing short of warm sunlight whispering reassuring words.
Sasuke almost believed him too, some nights.
And some mornings, he’d snap. He’d go back to ignoring Naruto, to not getting up, to yelling. He switched endlessly between giving up, going on, wanting to leave, staying, and Naruto— Naruto was endlessly patient in return.
He hadn’t complained once. Much to Sasuke’s frustration, he’d just held him steady and told him: I’m just glad you’re here.
He didn’t want that to be enough, yet he believed that Naruto meant it. That was the guilt. Or the reason to keep trying.
That couldn’t be all there was to it.
On an early Saturday morning when Naruto was helping Kakashi at the office, Sasuke made his way from their house — a half rebuilt minka they’d been trying to make into a home — towards the small family houses near the centre.
His body was heavy but the morning wind was cool, a spring breeze rustling young leaves. Vegetable or fish sellers were already up and running as if they’d been awake since five.
He watched the villagers, their daily life, as if he could learn something from them. A way to share a normal life. Together with the one he wanted to share a life with. Whatever that meant. For them.
The neighbourhood Iruka lived in was quiet and near the academy. His house had two floors, much like a family house, but was narrow. An attempt to fit as many houses as possible after the attack, perhaps.
The door opened slowly.
“Oh, um.” Iruka sensei was still wearing pyjamas. “Sasuke. To what do I owe the pleasure? Sorry, I did not expect you. It’s my day off.”
“I know,” Sasuke answered, then realised that he had yet to explain himself. “I have a favour to ask you.”
He’d barely registered that he was nervous, yet his voice betrayed him.
Iruka slowly opened the door wider, nodding seriously and motioning for him to come in. Sasuke slowly followed behind him, passed through the hallway, where shoes stacked on top of each other in the genkan and an impressive umbrella collection stood waiting for guests to forget their own and take one.
In the living room there was an ugly drawing of a frog Naruto had once made hanging on the wall, above the cabinet that had Iruka’s books. He must have held onto that ugly drawing for over fifteen years.
“Sasuke—” Iruka said, snapping him from his thoughts. “I know that you do not have the… cleanest past. I know that you’ve hurt Naruto.” He knew that. He thought about it all the time. Why was Iruka bringing it up? “But I also hope you know I love you too. You were, like—” Iruka put his hand up to the height right above his hip. “This small when I first met you.”
Sasuke nodded.
Iruka chuckled, a little nervously. “And I was young too, you know. I wanted to do better for you two — Kakashi too, I know he thinks this too. Just so you know, we’re— I’m so proud of you both.”
He nodded again, a little more confused. Perhaps even more nervous than he was before Iruka started talking.
“Naruto’s happiness always comes first to me. You know that, right?” Iruka added.
“Sensei,” the looked for the right words, found none. “I’m sorry, but why are you—” telling me this?
Iruka grinned at him, awkwardly but joyful. “You wanted to ask for my blessing, right?”
“Oh,” Sasuke looked around in the small but cosy house, looking for a way to get out of his situation.
A blessing.
He knew that Naruto had come to see Iruka as family. Being here, he could easily imagine the dinners Naruto and Iruka had eaten together around the coffee table. He could almost see the times Iruka had dragged Naruto in to wash paint off his skin or to cut gum out of his hair. The idea made him lightheaded.
His blessing. “No. I uhm— wanted to do something to thank him. So, I wanted to ask if there’s a recipe that’s Naruto’s favourite.”
Iruka’s neck went a bright red. “Oh! Well, that’s embarrassing.”
“We already— we’re already together. It’s kind of… new.”
The man turned bright red. “God. Okay. Don’t say any more!” He quickly walked into his kitchen. “Naruto’s favourite is Ichiraku’s miso pork.”
Sasuke followed Iruka. There was a small table with three chairs. The kitchen cabinet was small and filled with washed dishes that stood drying.
“I know that,” he said. He guessed everyone knew that. God, he was starting to regret this whole thing. Iruka being equally embarrassed probably made it even worse. “But I wanted to cook something.”
Iruka laughed. “Yeah, I figured. Wait a second.” He rummaged through one of the cabinets, balancing a stack of papers on top of the already full kitchen cabinet. “Teuchi actually gave me the recipe. It’s his biggest secret but he gave it to me on the back of a receipt after a particularly expensive evening. Naruto ate nine bowls, Sasuke, nine. He was just a kid!”
Sasuke huffed a chuckle.
“So Teuchi felt sorry for me, you know. I was broke and young too. So he gave me some discount and then secretly wrote the recipe on the back of the receipt.” Iruka took out a plastic folder with the receipt between. Nothing more than just that one small piece of paper. “You can have it,” he said, a smile on his face but his voice breaking a little.
Sasuke looked at the receipt and felt his chest tighten. He thought of a small Naruto, hungry and touch starved. Of the two of them, ordering miso pork, shiyo yasai, miso pork, miso pork, miso pork, miso pork, miso pork, miso pork, miso pork, miso pork — Of Iruka just letting him.
Letting him because he knew Naruto deserved it, back then. That he deserved it as much as Naruto deserved a thank you now. Maybe this was exactly what he needed.
“Are you sure?”
Iruka waved to dismiss him. “It’s totally fine. I have it memorised by now. Besides… I think I won’t be the only one taking care of him anymore.”
Sasuke looked at the back of the receipt. A quickly scribbled but layered recipe. Teuchi’s handwriting was as messy as he’d expected. “Thank you, sensei.”
“It’s no problem,” Iruka walked with him, back through the living room, towards the door. “Oh and Sasuke? What I was going to say earlier. Take my blessing too. You make him happy.”
He swallowed, nodded with a heavy chest.
“When you’re getting married, please at least tell me first.”
Sasuke felt blood rush to his neck. “We just—”
“I know that, but you and I both know that Naruto loves rushing into things when he’s sure about them. I’ll be expecting the both of you over for dinner soon.” He wondered how someone could look so stern while blushing in their pyjama’s.
“Yes, sensei.”
“Good. Thank you for stopping by, Sasuke.”
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Sasuke hung the recipe on their fridge.
Since coming back, he’d turned to Naruto and had tried not to think of what others thought of him. Perhaps he'd avoided them, afraid that they'd find him unworthy, or that their disappointment in his choices had lingered. He'd been afraid his guilt would only grow, if he'd allow anyone but Naruto close.
He knew Naruto had tried to built a found family. One that was kind and warm. He hadn’t thought about the fact that… by becoming Naruto’s, he'd became their family too.
Cooking came easily. He’d helped his mother, growing up. It was a moment for talking, or for worldlessly understanding each other. He placed the ramen noodles in the water and thought of Naruto, pulling him in during the night and softly whispering that he loved him, that he was never going to let him go.
He placed the pork into a layer of butter in his pan, and thought of Iruka, telling him how small he was when they’d first met and how he wished he could have done more.
He let his dashi simmer in a pan and thought of Kakashi trying to contact him since he’d returned.
Soon enough, he figured that this was a recipe for an enormous amount of ramen and so that it really had been written with just Naruto in mind. By people who’d been here for him since day one. Who’d been here for the small fox child, who everyone had hated.
Sasuke wished that he too, could take that child in and tell him things would be okay.
He wished that he could go back in time and tell himself that, even though things were complicated, he’d find a home with the person he loved most.
When Naruto came home, he was pouring steaming ramen into their bowls. “It smells good here!” Was the first thing Naruto yelled. Only after, he heard the door close and Naruto kicking off his shoes in the genkan. “Is it ramen? Tell me it’s ramen!”
“Naruto.”
“Okay, asshole: I’m home.” Naruto peaked into the kitchen. He’d taken off his jacket, and his tank top hugged him tightly around his chest. “Did you make ramen?”
“Mhm. Sit down.”
Naruto hurried towards the kotatsu faster than Sasuke had ever seen him move. He chuckled a little as he carried two bowls towards the table, placing the bigger one in front of Naruto.
“Kakashi is worse than Tsunade. Makes me do all the useless stuff with documents. He says it’s good practice before it’s my turn, but I think he just doesn’t feel like doing it himself.”
“Mhm.”
Naruto grinned. "This looks really good. Thanks, Sas. I’m digging in!”
Sasuke nodded slowly. He hoped it was anything like the ramen Naruto had always loved so much. Anything like the ramen the man he’d always seen as a father once made for him. Anything like —
“What! Sasuke! This is just like Ichiraku’s! It’s so good, what the hell! What did you do? Did you use your sharingan on the old man while he made it? Did you threaten him to teach you?”
Oh. He could have done that.
Sasuke looked at the bowl of ramen in front of him and thought of the recipe passed down from hands that all wanted to take care of Naruto.
He guessed that he simply wanted to be apart of that.
He remembered Iruka’s words, take it as my blessing too, and realised that he wanted them to know that he’d take care of Naruto as much as Naruto would take care of him.
“Mhm.” He shook his head. Then, warm with the feeling of having a family, he added: “Iruka told us to come over for dinner soon.”
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