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Konoha was a miserable place to be in October. It rained constantly. The streets flooded. Ashen grey clouds covered the sky. A chill that grew ever more uncomfortable began to persist, lingering longer and later in the air. Should you be thinking of travelling to Konoha at this time of year, don’t. There’s a reason the hotels get so cheap.
But perhaps if you had, then you might have witnessed Uzumaki Naruto, Konoha’s Saviour, and Hero of the Ages, get struck by lightning in the very nadir of its crater. You would have seen how all the sourdough he was carrying back to his husband turned instantly to ash as the bolt cleaved down from the heavens and struck him with a bang powerful enough to crack the nearby windowpanes.
For Naruto, one moment it was the familiar wet streets of Konoha, his wellies squeaking as he waded through the inch-deep waters, and the next a sun so bright he flinched, gagged, and fell at once to his knees.
“Oh dear gods,” Naruto moaned, choking on his spit. The world spun like a merry-go-round gone berserk. “Whaherrrheck?”
Kurama groaned a similar tune in his head. They both took a moment to dry heave before Naruto managed to open his eyes. In front of him were a hundred thousand golden steps that seemed to climb forever up, up, up into the clouds and beyond. Naruto slammed his eyes shut, but the gleaming visage of the stairs had already been imprinted onto the backs of his eyelids.
Kurama began to pace so frantically about his head that the thumping was adding to a rapidly forming migraine. He felt his urgent pleas to open his eyes again for confirmation, but Naruto liked living in ignorance. Bliss was wonderful, bliss was kind to you, bliss was human. He sat there for another moment or two before cracking his eyes open just a slit, and winced at the light that immediately assaulted his eyes.
“This is the foot of the Jade Palace.” Kurama said, so slowly every word sunk into Naruto’s fleshy body like a meathook.
“I need you to shut up right now,” replied Naruto, as politely as he could.
“They must be starving for picks,” he continued blithely, half in wonderment, the other half in loathing. “They’re actually making me a god!”
“No, they’re making me a god,” Naruto snapped back. The enormity of his words hit him at once. “Oh no. No no.” He snuck another glance at the steps and moaned in disbelief. Crawling instead to the side of the platform, he risked a look down.
The golden brick platform he was on was supported by a ring of clouds. Beyond that, there was nothing but a vast, empty blue, the sky surrounding him from all corners. The ground was nowhere in sight. A wave of vertigo crashed into him and he rolled onto his back, covering his face in his hands. A god! To become a god! “Was I that spectacular?” He wondered aloud.
“Or someone’s desperate.”
“There are plenty of other virtuous people to choose from,” Naruto argued.
“Right, like?”
Naruto opened his mouth.
“Sasuke is not virtuous, no matter how you try to spin it.”
Naruto rolled his eyes. “Sakura’s a doctor,” he said blithely.
“Maybe you’ve skewed the bellcurve.”
“There’s a bellcurve for this kind of stuff?”
“Who knows?” Kurama shrugged. “When I met the guy, he was a real stickler for grading systems.”
“You’ve—what?” Naruto sat upright. The stairs wobbled before him. “You’ve met The Guy?”
“Give or take a millenia, but yes.” Kurama scratched nonchalantly at a spot behind his ear, though he sounded too smug to fully commit to the bit. “Guess he wanted to suss out the competition. I was just a kit at the time, but my spiritual power was off the charts. It wasn’t a surprise when I cultivated into a Tailed Beast.”
Naruto considered this. “You know, I’ve never heard of a Tailed Beast ascending.”
Kurama gave him a wicked smile, showing all his pointy teeth. “Oh, it’s borderline blasphemy. Nice one, Naruto.” And he fistbumped the walls of Naruto’s mind, making his brain feel like jelly.
Naruto looked back at the stairs and then at the sky. Briefly, he considered jumping. Then figured he ought not to, since he couldn’t fly and gods didn’t take kindly to being slighted. Would that power go to his head too? Would he find this kind of insolence no longer amusing or admirable but something to be admonished once he accepted his divine burden?
With nothing else to do, he began to climb. Soon, the gold platform faded from view, but the end of the steps never seemed to come into focus. He grew more irritated as he climbed; surely he’d passed all the prerequisite tests to become a god before arriving here. What use was this never-ending set of steps? Punishment?
Hours passed. His legs ached. Still he climbed, and climbed, and just when he had the thought of giving free-falling a shot, he climbed the last step and came to another golden platform, before two immense, cinnabar-red doors, crowned with intricately-carved golden dragons and two lions-head knockers with bared teeth and serene eyes. Light wafts of translucent cloud floated past his nose, cold and refreshing against his heated skin.
Naruto raised the heavy golden handles and knocked. The booms shook the platform, scattering the mist around him. Of their own accord, the doors opened inward, this time without a sound. The golden path stretched on, and he walked through them into a fanciful courtyard. Flowing springs of water so clear he saw right through to the moss-rock bottom gushed around them in creeks and streams, while flowering trees of plum blossoms and marigolds perfumed the air with their sweet, heady scent.
A golden path snaked its way through the courtyard, disappearing into another solemn hall. He followed this and entered a large, cavernous chamber, bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. The floor was a pale, laminated wood, the walls a rich vermillion. The ceiling was painted in excruciating detail with scenes of legend and myth. Celestial beings clashed in mid-air, surrounded by the Heavens, while dragons in deep waters clasping golden balls writhed and twisted. Tailed Beasts were being held back by lions biting at their throats. Each artwork was meticulously inlaid with mother-of-pearl, gold, jade, and every precious gem you could think of.
“Well that’s not very friendly,” Kurama remarked dryly.
“Maybe I can get him to update the decor,” Naruto squinted at it. He thought he recognised Shukaku’s stubby tail in one of the carvings.
“Who, him?” Kurama snorted, and that’s when Naruto noticed the end of the hall. It seemed to stretch kilometres, but the man seated upon a golden throne at the end was so clearly visible it was as if he were right next to him.
To describe him as a man would be inept, to say him a god was too generic a description. Naruto took one look at the heavy, tasseled crown that sat atop his head, the embroidered silk garments he wore, and the weight of his gaze, and knew what he had long known.
Here he was at the top of the Heavens, and he stood before the Jade Emperor.
“Uzumaki Naruto,” said the Emperor, and though he was still far away his voice reverberated around the room like a perpetual echo. Naruto sank to one knee under the weight of it. “You are welcome to the Jade Palace.”
Naruto blanched.
“Your courage has inspired many people to your way. Your feats have cemented their belief in you. Your cultivation and skill have earned great recognition. You join the ranks of countless, infinite, martial gods before you. Approach.”
Naruto barely moved save for a twitch of his muscles, yet he crossed leagues in a blink. All of a sudden, he knelt before the throne. Being beneath the weight of the Jade Emperor was almost unbearable. His paternal gaze was kind, his voice soothing, but from him emanated the very essence of divinity, so raw it made his hair stand on end, made him feel like he was chewing on live wires.
“Faithfully and diligently serve your people. Fulfil your duties and the privilege of all that is divine will be bestowed upon you.”
Naruto cringed. He had his hands full with just the mortal duties already, how much more could he take on? He liked having the work-life balance none of the other Hokages got to have, and that’s because he’s the only one who was willing to share. His Cabinet is probably gathered in the Red Building now. Shikamaru must be losing his mind. “That sounds like a lot of work,” he mumbled. “Can I still be the Hokage?”
Even though the room appeared to be empty save for the two of them, an unnatural stillness suddenly fell. Like a thousand beings were all holding their breath, stunned into silence. Kurama coughed on a hairball and then burst into laughter—and though he was inside his head, and has always been, the sound echoed around the hall like the clanging of gongs.
“Your Tailed Beast finds this humorous,” said the Jade Emperor, without a shred of mirroring amusement.
“He’s not my Tailed Beast,” Naruto scowled. “That’s Kurama.”
“Yes,” said the Jade Emperor evenly. “We have met.”
“He remembers me,” crowed Kurama, and the hall tittered when his voice again blasted out of Naruto’s tummy, right where the seal had been. He felt like he’d been turned into some sort of megaphone and fidgeted uncomfortably. “How’ve you been? Climbed the ladder, I see.”
“So did we,” Naruto sulked. “All hundred thousand million of them.”
Kurama snickered. The Jade Emperor stared at them. “You are aware that this is an honour that has never before been willingly extended to a Tailed Beast or their Host.”
“Oh, is that all I still am?” Kurama’s eyes narrowed. “I like the sound of being a Great Fox Immortal. Call me that and I’ll have Naruto consider your offer.”
Naruto nodded firmly in agreement.
“You would refuse godhood at the behest of a Beast?”
“Call him a Beast one more time,” said Naruto, not at all pleasantly.
The Jade Emperor’s eyebrows seemed to be threatening to lift. Naruto watched with bated breath, but his face didn’t change. He fought back the urge to say dang it. “Respect will come when he proves himself capable of carrying out divine duties. To shed the burden of your mortal yoke is no small feat. Many do not pass the first tests of Heaven.”
Naruto instinctively resented his expectant attitude. “Well, can I think about it?”
The hall shimmered once more, the pressure increasing until it felt like many hands were reaching for him. Naruto guessed where their faces were and shot them all glares. “Is there anything to think about?” The Jade Emperor inquired coldly. “Warriors such as yourself spend countless of their karmic lives cultivating immortality. You who have achieved it in a mere forty years will not accept the reward of your efforts?”
Nothing Naruto had ever done, not fighting the War or protecting his village, had ever been about karmic cultivation or immortality. He blinked in consternation, brow furrowing. “I needed no reward for my efforts and I pursued no end.”
“Yet you have been rewarded nonetheless.”
A wry smile crept upon Naruto’s face. “I have been. The person I love waits for me at home. And when I come back he’s probably going to scold me for being late with the bread and ask if I ever tire of being so dramatic. It’s a good thing that he’s soft on me, even when he’s hungry.”
“Is it for your beloved that you deliberate?” The Jade Emperor gazed imperiously down at him.
Naruto sensed that he was treading very dangerous waters and decided to cannonball into them. “It is.”
“A god can be beloved by all.”
“A god can be worshipped by all,” Naruto replied. “But I’ve only ever wanted to be loved by one.”
“So, you would throw yourself back in with the lot—would stoop to drink from Meng Po’s soup, subject yourself to the infested waters of the Nai River, and spin the wheel of reincarnation—for a single lifetime’s mortal whim?”
And at his disdain—for indeed that it was, disappointment and disbelief—Naruto bristled. What was another god to him? Naruto had reasoned with devils and crushed those who refused to bow beneath his fists.
“A mortal whim? A single lifetime? There is nothing I wouldn’t do to see him again. Every time I stand back on those shores I’d,” frustration bubbled up inside him. Drawing his shoulders up, he said firmly, “I’d spill the pot, dam the Nai, ignite the wheel and assault the city just to make sure I see him again. Everything I did to bring me here I did in the service of just one man. I did it for him alone.”
An impassive look. Naruto had failed to impress him. The air around him rippled; Naruto suspected that the Jade Emperor’s many ministers and subjects, former mortals who had ascended as Naruto had, were similarly unamused by his blanket and dismissive refusal. What did he care? He gazed at the face of the Jade Emperor and decided, quite firmly, that he did not like the guy. He reminded him of the worst of the dignitaries that Naruto frequently had to endure, with their conniving, snivelling faces, sycophantic and pontifictious.
Distantly, a clap of what sounded like thunder rolled across the clouds. Though the sound was far-off, up here amidst the clouds the force was enough to make the palace shudder.
Naruto’s lip curled further. The thunder only served to remind him of Sasuke, and the idea that even up here they had bad weather just bummed him out. That would have been the only good thing about leaving Konoha! He was sick to the death of the rain. The floods always ruined his tomatoes and exterior paint. Don’t even get him started on his war on mould.
“So you claim you hold no loyalty to your village, that you did not choose to perform your heroic deeds in their names, for the sake of their better future, their improved well-being, and their livelihoods? That you were not a bastion in dark times and a bulwark against evil for the helpless and the weak?”
Naruto shrank, suitably placated. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I love my village,” he said plaintively. “I love the people there though they have done countless wrongs. I believe they have the capacity to be something beautiful.”
“You could be the god that they need.”
“Do they really need one?” Naruto mused. “We’ve gotten pretty far on our own, you know.”
The Jade Emperor said nothing. Naruto looked around the room, at the shimmering fields where other gods stood, hidden from his view until he accepted. “What happens if I become a god?”
“You’d be folded into the divine realm. You would become part of a pantheon bigger than yourself.”
“And I would stay up here?”
“Where else?”
“But how would I know what my people need?”
“They will pray to you.”
Naruto frowned. “Why can’t I live with them?”
“You must shed such thinking. There is serving Heaven and serving your people, and there is no requirement to live amongst them. Living is for mortals.” The more Naruto heard, the more his heart sank. He thought of his elderly neighbour, who lived alone and who Naruto always enjoyed having a drink and a smoke with on the edge of their rusting balcony, watching the sun dip prematurely beneath the crater. He thought of Sakura, who relied on him to be the loudest supporter of her welfare programmes. He thought of his husband, who at this moment, was likely waiting at home for him, nerves building as he failed to come home. Hah! A bit of him took some sick pleasure in that. How do you like them apples, Sasuke?!
The thunder echoed again, louder this time, but through the slatted windows of the hall that unnatural golden sunlight still lit the deck up in hues of amber and chestnut.
“I have people I’m very attached to,” Naruto muttered. “You cannot ask me to give them up.”
“I’m not suggesting you do,” said the Jade Emperor. Naruto honed in on the slight tinge of impatience in his voice. That’s right. For all his divinity, the Jade Emperor had been human once. “I’m telling you to serve them from a higher place.”
Naruto recoiled. “My place is right beside them,” he snarled, suddenly having made up his mind. The rush of anger—that righteous fury—felt so at home within his body it burned like fuel for Kurama. “I won’t become their god. We’ve gotten this far by ourselves.” He spared a glance at the rippling air beside him. “Gods have…moods and desires of their own. Why rely on something you barely see, when your own two hands can do something concrete?”
Naruto held back his tongue from what he truly wanted to say, although his restraint came only because he didn’t have the words to eloquently express himself. He was certain that if he spoke it would only invite offence, not understanding.
He has learned the hard way that there is nothing in this world that comes for free. Divine aid sits at the top of the list. Where did it come from? Their authority, their ability to perform miracles? Man got theirs by thievery and trickery; stealing from far-off lands to stand with (and against) the gods, who had existed long, long before Kaguya had fallen to this planet. Naruto couldn’t fault them. He’d have done the same, he reckoned, if he were given the choice.
No, the gods gain their authority from suffering. Divine power is born from the desperation of those affected by disaster. If there were no woes; there would be no need for prayer. And if there were no need for prayer, there would be no need for gods. They have a vested interest in keeping you downtrodden and weak. They will only serve you as far as it serves them.
“Divine aid goes a long way.”
“Divine aid is temporary. A culture of resilience is enduring.”
“Do you not owe them the option?”
“I owe no one anything.”
The Jade Emperor’s lips twitched. “Would you cross the stars for your convictions?”
Naruto met his eyes. “No distance would hold me back.”
The Jade Emperor seemed to be on the verge of laughing. Naruto suspected at the first chortle, cobwebs would spew from his mouth. “I have a daughter very much like you,” he said thoughtfully. His fingers began to tap a beat upon the armrests of his throne. His eyes searched Naruto up and down. There was another, painful moment of silence, broken only by more peals of thunder and the familiar tingling sensation of lightning building in the air. The hair on the back of his neck stood.
Then the Jade Emperor said, “go.”
Naruto started. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy, and he did not wait around for him to change his mind. He turned on his heel at once and took off at a sprint. Still, the Jade Emperor’s voice followed him.
“Do you think you are the first to turn the Court away for a lover or two? The ability of mortals to love is your most fascinating quality.” He shaped the word love like it was foreign on his tongue.
Naruto skidded to a halt and spared a glance behind him. He hadn’t managed to put any distance between him and the throne. “Once,” he said, now feeling too brave for his itty-bitty standing, “it was your most fascinating quality too.”
For the first time surprise crept up the Jade Emperor’s porcelain face, stretching his eyebrows. Then he laughed. The sound flitted across the room like the wingbeats of bats and brushed across Naruto’s whiskered cheeks. With a sound like the striking of a gong, the ground swept out from under him. In a whirlwind of dizzying, tumbling supernovas, Naruto hurtled through time and space before he sprawled, retching, onto the smooth, freshly-polished floor of Konoha’s largest temple.
Struggling to his knees, he supported himself on his palms, choking on the spittle and bile in his throat. The nearest worshippers to him yelped and scuttled away, then froze where they stood. Naruto’s unfocused eyes registered the gleam of his skin, then in the large bronze panelling he saw the electric shock of his hair.
“Uzumaki Naruto!” Cried the worshipper closest to him. “He’s back!”
The news swept over the early morning crowd. They ran shouting out into the other halls, the courtyards, crying out the miraculous news. People began pouring in, and sure enough they saw on him the shine and lustre that was indicative of someone who’d been touched by the divine. It was impossible to contain.
For the first time in Konoha’s history, one of their own ascended to godhood; had been chosen by the Jade Emperor himself. He would be more than the Hokage, he’d be their spiritual light, their beacon in dark times, eternal and immortal, forever guiding the city to newer heights.
How many shrines to build in his honour? How many temples to create, which sutras to recite? Naruto barely had the strength to wave them away; his head ached, his feet felt like lead and his eyes refused to focus.
“I didn’t accept,” he wanted to say, but his tongue was too thick. “I can’t be a god. I’m no better than a dog.”
They were insistent, pulling at him with eager hands, sweaty palms sliding over his pulsing skin. Where they touched him their ailments faded; hands worn from years of hard work and labour softened and gave way, aches in joints lightened and grey hair was washed over in tide of hale and healthy black. Naruto stumbled where they shoved him, torn between giving them what they needed and finding his way home.
Weakly, he batted at the hand gripping his shoulder, now young and smooth like a man of no more than twenty. Kurama was still silent in his head, and what had been a distant throb was now the beat of a war drum in his head.
Someone bent to kiss his feet, tears streaming down his face. Save yourself, Naruto tried to tell him. There is no relief in the pity of a god. They made you this way. Fate conspired with them to beat you down, and you cannot let it leash you. Mustering all he had left, he opened his mouth again—
“Get away from him!”
A roar, loud enough to rattle the floorboards and knock dust loose from the shingles, scattering the worshippers like startled bugs. Bereft of anyone to hold him up, Naruto swayed and pitched over.
The floor rushed to meet him, but he was caught by a strong arm. Mottled white scars criss-crossed blue-green veins that peeked out from beneath pale skin, scars that Naruto himself had left, that he had since kissed a thousand times over. It was his beloved who gently knelt with him to the floor, his head cradled in his hand.
“Naruto,” said Sasuke. There was such tangible, and uncharacteristic, worry in his voice that Naruto felt some strength come back to him just so he wouldn’t be scared any longer. Naruto’s nose tickled the skin of his neck; he smelt like ozone, how he always did when angry. Sasuke’s fingers ran through his shimmering hair. “Can you stand?”
Naruto smiled weakly. “Sasuke,” he said, fumbling for his waist. “I’m okay.”
“You ascended,” Sasuke snapped back. “I always knew this day would come—” he trailed off into muttered curses and sharp jabs at the gods. “What did you do, help an old lady cross the road again?”
The mob began to balloon as the town criers swept the village. Kept at bay by Sasuke’s extraordinary reputation, they weighed the pros and cons of upsetting him versus capitalising upon the remnants of the divinity that clung to Naruto. One darted out a foot and Sasuke’s head whipped toward them, teeth bared and hackles raised. The villager slunk back, mollified only temporarily. Soon they’d realise they had strength in numbers, and Sasuke wouldn’t kill them. Probably.
“You lot never change,” he snarled, that old, familiar vitriol creeping back into his voice. The crowd tittered. “Here is your god, and with what respect do you treat him with?As if pawing at your patron like rats after scraps is how to be rewarded! Fools!”
An outraged murmur. The mob looked at each other, and in that split second of confusion and shame, Sasuke hefted Naruto onto his shoulder and took off at a sprint, leaping from the balustrades and sliding down the ragged edges of Konoha’s crater.
The outrage of the crowd faded as Sasuke raced down the uneven ground. He pushed on further and further, slipping past the turn-off to their street and deep into the forests beyond. Naruto jostled where he lay over his broad shoulder, but Sasuke’s grip was sure and firm. He didn’t falter until they reached a small hut nestled between two large, overgrown firs.
As Sasuke performed a series of complicated one-handed seals, dispelling what must have been a nasty little trap on the front door, Naruto stirred. “ANBU safehouse?” He slurred, the world spinning.
“My safehouse,” Sasuke corrected. Naruto couldn’t see him, but he could imagine the scowl on his face. “All the ANBU safehouses are shit. We’re about twenty klicks from the nearest one.”
Naruto smiled in spite of himself. He didn’t bother asking how many secret little safehouses Sasuke kept dotted across the continent, that was a secret his beloved like to keep. Gently, he was settled onto a thin bamboo mat, lit a central oil lamp, then took off his dark cloak and slipped it under his head like a pillow.
They were silent for a moment. Naruto stared at the flickering of their shadows on the wall.
“Rest,” said Sasuke. “Sleep. No one will come for you.”
“You’ll protect me?” Naruto whispered.
“What kind of god needs protecting?”
“The kind that loves you.”
Sasuke shook his head. “Gods don’t need to love.”
“They should,” said Naruto. “Your worship makes me divine; I worship you in my image.” He tried to gesture, but the room was a blur. “How to be one without the other?”
“Because that’s not how it works. A mortal’s duty is to worship. Yours is to be worshipped.” Sasuke’s hand smoothed Naruto’s damp locks from his forehead. “Go to sleep, usuratonkachi.”
Naruto fell asleep so fast he surprised himself. One moment he was struggling, pulling against the tide. As far as divinity goes, he wanted to say, you are my only example. But the dreamless black pulled him in, a void so deep and cold it chilled him to the bone.
And there was nothing but silence and the sound of water, far away, dripping.
When he woke up, Sasuke was gone. At once Naruto panicked, surging upright and wailing in surprise at the assault on his head. From the outside of the small hut came the sound of familiar footfalls. The door carefully cracked open, and Naruto was subject to a disgruntled, familiar eye peering at him.
“Lie down,” snapped Sasuke. The door opened fully as he bowed his head to step inside the little one-room cottage. There was a leaf in his long, inky hair. He looked young, younger than he had any right to be. Like they were in their twenties again, smooth-faced and boyish.
Sasuke must’ve spent the night in his bed, he realised. The lingering effects of divinity had imprinted upon him. Naruto belatedly felt his own face, noting the absence of his salt-and-pepper stubble, the suppleness of the skin. He wondered if he looked as young as Sasuke. He hoped the effect wouldn’t last. Sasuke was like fine wine, better with age. The grey that tinged his hair agreed with his complexion, and the burgeoning crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes only made him seem wise. Naruto had loved to kiss him in-between his eyebrows and watch him furrow them.
“I said lie down. You’re in divine withdrawal, or whatever the hell it is.”
Naruto flinched. He meekly laid back down, while Sasuke strode over and poured a bottle of something down his throat. It tasted rich and heavy, like molasses.
“Sakura came by,” he explained gruffly. “Konoha’s in an uproar. They demand to know where their patron has been whisked off to. How should we tell them that their precious Boy Wonder said no?”
“You sound angry,” said Naruto. The concoction sat uncomfortably heavy in his tummy.
“You turned down godhood. Why would you do that?” Sasuke stared owlishly at him. “How many leagues above Hokage is that? How many men can claim to have ascended without even trying to?”
Naruto opened his mouth to begin. Sasuke bulldozed right past him.
“If you say it was for me, I’m leaving and not coming back.” Desperation cloaked his voice. Naruto peered closer at him and found the corner of his eyes much tighter than usual, his whole face pinched almost imperceptibly.
“It was for you,” said Naruto.
Sasuke really did turn to leave. Naruto’s hand shot out to grab his wrist firmly. Then, “I’m not supposed to be a god.”
Sasuke stiffened. In the firelight, the dark-brown of his visible eye was illuminated into a golden, honey-like caramel. “Does that matter? You were made one.” He sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It grated on Naruto’s ears and made him think of by-gone years.
Naruto smiled at him helplessly. “To be a god is to be immortal,” he reasoned. “And what use do I have of immortality, if all of it would be without you?”
Another moment of discomfiting quietness. “When they took you, I was irate. Inconsolable.” He didn’t seem particularly embarrassed. “Sakura can tell you about my unbecoming tantrums. Each day you were gone I grew more and more furious. With the gods, for taking yet another person I loved away. And with myself, for being unable to accept your new station. But just when I finally come to terms with it, with what you are becoming—because I have always known that to love you will be to lose you—here you are. You could have been a god. My god.”
An angry flush began creeping over the back of Naruto’s neck. Sasuke didn’t get it. Godhood? What fucking for? Belatedly he realised he had said it out loud. Sasuke continued to regard him as a stranger, and Naruto surged forward. “When have I ever wanted that kind of power? When did I cultivate for godhood, when did I ever even speak of it? All I wanted was love and now I am loved. Is it so wrong to be content with loving and living and dying?”
“You could be a fly in your next life.” Sasuke shot back. “What use is that?”
“I’d be a fly six times in a row if it meant on the seventh I’d be by your side,” Naruto returned. “I’d be a calf sent to slaughter and a cat living off scraps if it meant on the ninth I’d take your hand.”
Sasuke suddenly looked haggard and aged beyond his years. He dragged his hand down his face and sat down heavily onto the mat. They looked at each other again. “What did you say to them?”
Naruto stilled. Sasuke’s eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Naruto? What did you say to them?”
“I told him I’d—” Naruto flushed an embarrassed red. “Um, I told him I’d dam—I’d spill the soup and dam the river…and uh, set fire to—”
Sasuke bit his lip hard. “Good grief. I don’t have to tell you how much I—” He warred with himself for a moment, falling silent and gnawing on his bottom lip in a rare display of emotion. The despair in his eye became something milky and wet. “It’s not that I care about the gods,” he snapped. “Or that I believe in their power or their might. I believe in you. I believe it’s an honour only you deserve. You are the only thing that’s ever been holy to me.”
Naruto knew better than anyone the little respect Sasuke had for fate, for destiny, for the gods and their whims. He laughed in the face of their little machinations and took great delight in thwarting their wishes. With every single step Sasuke took he resisted the pull of their string, and each bitter battle had brought him to Naruto’s bedside. What irony it is then, that in doing so he pushed Naruto higher and higher—until fate decreed he ought to tower above.
“I don’t want to be Konoha’s god,” Naruto whispered. He drank in Sasuke’s stricken expression and recognised guilt. “I certainly do not want to be your god. I am just a man. I am a boy. I want to yip at your heels and eat out of your hand,” he took Sasuke’s cold, clammy palm in his and squeezed as hard as he could. “I want to guard the flock with only what teeth and nails I was born with, and when the wolf bites I want it to hurt.”
Then he flattened it against his chest, where his heart pulsed. Steady and strong beneath his ribs, pumping life through his veins, alive, alive, alive. Sasuke’s fingers scrabbled against his skin. “You did not keep me from some great reckoning. I chose it myself. I have no regrets.”
Sasuke’s face crumpled. It was the first time in his many years of knowing and understanding him that Naruto had ever seen him make an expression like that, and it shocked him so viscerally he felt tears spring into his eyes.
“Come here,” he said, and pulled him close, down to his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head. “I want to live and die with you,” he hummed. “I want to live and die as a mortal man. Be a god,” he snorted. “It just looks like more work to me.”
“There’d be less paperwork,” Sasuke said, his voice muffled.
“Will there be?” Naruto raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That Jade Emperor looked like a real stickler for the rules.”
“What did he look like?”
“All round and glowy,” Naruto said. “The crown must weigh a ton. Literally.”
They laid like that for a while, Sasuke buried in his neck. Naruto traced the back of his spine, humming softly under his breath; he knew Sasuke liked to hear the rumble in his chest. He sang him lullabies and the folk songs he liked to put on the radio, human craft and human talent, created from human desire and human emotion. Naruto has had many regrets in his life, but in that moment he knew this would never be one of them.
To love! What privilege it is to be loved! Resplendent in glory, crown of the Heavens atop his head, beloved. Deep in the gutter, hands mired with spent lives, beloved. Naruto has been both surrounded and abandoned, adored and reviled, by the same one man. He wove himself so tightly around him no god could extricate himself from him. He’d tied his soul down to Sasuke’s stake. Go nowhere where I cannot follow; and I will not live where you cannot be. Why else stay in Konoha, if not to make it a better place with his own two hands? And who could be the best judge of what better is, if not someone who’d seen it at its worst? He liked to think in the years they’d been here, they’d made it better together. This was their home. Through all the injustice. And all the pain. The bones of their ancestors were cradled by its earth. Gods, where else could they go?
“I love you,” said Naruto.
When they were younger, Sasuke used to frown whenever Naruto declared his passionate love for him, no matter where they were. They could be mid-fuck and Sasuke’s eyes would flash like an angry cat’s, like saying it out loud dared fate to take him away. The first few times he’d mumbled it while kissing him, Sasuke had actually bit him.
“When you say it with this face,” Sasuke replied, pulling back to look at him. “It sounds so alien. This face never said that to me before. It's rather funny that you’d be looking younger on your birthday.”
Was it really his birthday already? Sasuke had said earlier than it’d been a few days, but he didn’t feel time passing like that in the Heavenly Realm. How dare they rob him of more days of his already mortal life!
“Making up for lost time,” Naruto joked. “I should’ve said it to you when I met you. Should’ve known who you’d be to me the instant I saw you.”
Sasuke studied him curiously. He traced the scars over Naruto’s cheeks. Quietly, he laid back down. Then, after such a long period of silence Naruto thought he’d fallen asleep, he heard him mumble, “I think I did. I think I always knew.”
Naruto agreed. Because he had always known too. Always would.