Chapter Eleven

Uncle Madara

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"Who was I kiddin'? I don't got this."

Naruto grips an empty shopping basket—standing in the sea that is the supermarket. Because in a convenience store, one could dump all the instant noodles and milk in one fell swoop. Here, though, she's lost. Where to go? So many aisles pointing in different directions. What to get? Eggs, butter, and bread. Then, why did Sasuke give her over a hundred dollars? That must mean there's more to the list than five items.

Pressure builds with each passing second. In fact, she must be standing like a broken post blocking traffic since shoppers threaten to run her over with their carts. Not unlike road rage.

"C'mon Uzumaki, it can't be hard."

Another crazed Tokyo shopper bumps their cart into Naruto.

"Naruko?"

Looking up to find…

"Sakura-chan?"

"You too! I can't believe it!"

Like a little girl finding her favorite toy, Sakura lights up, leaping over with such unbridled enthusiasm that Naruko pinches herself to see if it's a dream.

"Grocery shopping in between classes is so stress-relieving," says Sakura.

"This relieves stress?"

"Well, I like to think of shopping as a mission. A scavenger hunt, actually. It's up to you to bring home the freshest and tastiest goods."

The words mission and hunt rivet Naruto close. "I do love completing missions. Where do we start?"

Something magical happens. Sakura weaves an arm around hers, hooking their arms into a chain-link. And in both their free hands, a shopping basket dangles, but Naruto can't focus on anything but their hips colliding. The briefest of physical connection, where their sides touch; and Naruto spaces out, a dopey grin smearing across her face. She's holding me, she must like me—

"—definitely, how I feel. You just take your time and go down each aisle sometimes. Hey, do you need anything from here?"

Naruto nods, fixing on her open smile. And I haven't been hit yet, what a good sign. Although that's enough to tug the ribbon loose, opening the surprise question: could I get used to Naruko?

Meanwhile, Sakura blinks. Perhaps Naruko is struggling to find the right words; after all, the girl's foreign from Los Angeles—and Japanese may not be a strong suit.

"You need kitchen cutlery?" prompts Sakura. "Or…"

"I'll grab this Shuriken, why not."

Naruko points to the star-shaped cookie cutters.

To which Sakura falters. "That'd come in handy for baking." She even smacks the blonde, in sudden realization. "Brilliant, Naruko! I think you gave me an idea for a fundraiser."

I'm brilliant? Naruto blushes from the compliment. She thinks I'm a model and I'm smart. Thus, strolling along as if this was a museum for ancient artifacts, Naruko picks up a soup ladle. Inspecting it so thoroughly, running fingers up its sheath…much to Sakura's wonder.

"This is an interesting weapon," murmurs Naruko. "How do I slay food with this one?"

"You use it to serve your guest's soup. Obviously."

"Oh, guests!" stay brilliant, Uzumaki. "Right, right. I just never had guests before. I could use it, is what I'm sayin'."

"So then invite me over sometime," teases Sakura, winking even. "I'll bring over my famous savory pancakes. Oh! Congratulations on finding a new roommate this quick, by the way! Maybe I know them?"

Well, shit, that's an awkward avenue. Whistling innocence, Naruko keeps her gaze fastened away from the emerald lie detectors, and simply shrugs. Thankfully, Sakura whips with excitement over another revelation.

"You saw the bulletins today, right?"

"Nah. I'm skippin' classes."

Which is why Naruto turned down Sasuke's ride. But I'm not gonna tell 'em that.

"The judge's results came out. You got a B rank! You're in!"

Naruko's face falls.

"A...B-rank?"

Just where you belong, dead last. The sound of Sasuke mocking rings through.

"You should know that's the highest Tsunade-sensei has given a newcomer," assures Sakura. "She doesn't believe in perfect scores."

In a fury, a jolt runs down her leg and Naruko slams her foot against a nearby unsuspecting bunch of tomato sauce cans. Sakura turns with eyes widening, especially when the blonde shakes her head back and forth.

"Is something the matter?"

"Yeah, I just realized, there's a voice in my head that sounds a lot like my roommate. And he's pissing me off."

Sakura does a double take. A he? Biting her lip, she saves the question for another time.

"Anyway, you shouldn't cut class anymore, Naruko. My advice as a second year is: you want to save up absent days for when you need it. Missing three classes can result in a fail, and well, Tsunade kicks out her students with bad grades."

"Fu—" Naruko catches herself, after all, a lady was present. "Fu...hreal? 'Cos there's this class, ya know, I already feel like I'm in a tombstone and my grade for it is miles under. It's earth science with Sabaku."

"You're not the only one. It's a hard class but I know someone who tutors for all subjects, pretty much. He's a whiz kid. But he only takes by referral."

"Sakura, can'tcha tutor me?"

"Ah, I'm not really good at teaching." She blushes, as they turn into their last aisle. "Besides, this guy, Shikamaru. If he likes you enough, he'd help do your assignments. I have a mutual friend that can connect you."

"This Shikamaru fella would do my homework?"

"My friend Ino got him to assist with all her assignments."

If homework's taken care of, then Naruto could focus one hundred percent on training for tournaments!

"Freakin' yes, count me in!"

When they checkout at the line, the cashier fills up two full brown paper bags. Naruto offers to carry Sakura's but she declines with a polite 'no thanks'. They pay and leave. Naruto ends up using only five of the eight twenties Sasuke gave, which still is a pretty penny.

The second they waltz down the path for the exit, Naruko jolts to a halt. Sakura glances at her with bewilderment.

"Hold on."

Because in the horizon of bright light, Naruto finds a black silhouette, so black, that a purple haze radiates from it. Right past the doors too, in front of the store. The potential threat has Naruto swatting Sakura back, and goosebumps running all over.

"What's going on, Naruko?"

Sakura stops dead cold as if Naruko's arm is a turnstile that was jammed and wasn't letting up.

"Something's not right," panic crawls. "Don't move, stay here."

Sakura means to ask what's the big deal, except when she looks up—Naruko's right eye turns glassy. It's missing a pupil. The sclera blackens, while the iris glows an icy blue.

"Naruko, your eye!" was it infected, or diseased, "What's with it?"

At this point, Naruko charges forth, leaving Sakura behind.

By the time Naruto skids onto the scene, a crowd's already starting to form. Too much chaos buzzes in the parking lot. Scents of gasoline and rubber tires bombard her nose; meanwhile, two cars engage in honk-warfare over a parking spot.

And yet, almost instantly, Naruko's eyes lock on the target.

That is, waves of dark despair emanate…from the hooded man wrangling a young'un up into the air. And there's no mistaking the malicious intent spiking out—her breath catches. How can someone emit such an aura? When Naruko looks around, she finds no one else noticing it. Am I hallucinating?

"Please let me go," begs the boy, trying to kick free. "I won't bother you again!"

"You're protecting it aren't you."

"I have no idea what you're saying!"

Before the hooded man can further choke the innocent, Naruto barks.

"Hey you! Yeah—you! Let 'em go and pick on someone your own size!"

Of course, when nothing changes, Naruko digs for the cookie-cutters and ladle. In a flash, two metallic stars wedge between slender fingers—and with an assassin's precision—she flings the cookie cutters like shuriken. Badum, bum! In rapid-fire, the two hit the cloaked man on the temple. And then like a Viking roaring, Naruto charges forth with the ladle.

"I said gett'offa'him, he's just a kid!"

Lucky for the victim, Naruto's rallying cry was enough for the hooded figure to stumble back.

"You've the jougan now."

Naruko freezes midswing. With cars blasting their horns, and her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she could scarcely make out the words.

"Excuse me? You needa' get the marbles out your mouth. And my name's not Schuman." Was this is how poor Joseph must've felt? "It's Uzumaki."

"I have to report this to the others," says the man, whose eyes glint under the hood.

Before Naruto can get another word—the man takes off! And hating to lose, Naruto lets out a ferocious roar and swings the ladles like a boomerang. It misses, though. Because the cloaked man rounds the corner, and soon the crowd disperses as though nothing happened.

The boy she rescued, dusts himself off. A bit pretentious. The kid, tilts a chin up that says I'm a tough nut.

"Listen, lady. I was taking care of it. So next time, let us boys handle it."

Is this kid for real?

Naruto blinks. "I guess next time I'll wait for the waterworks to really start goin'."

"I'm not crying!" whips the boy, sore as hell. "I'm Konohamaru Sarutobi—you know that?!"

"Oh wow! Serious? A name that makes my brain hurt, that should do it." Stepping closer, enjoying how for once she's taller, Naruko asks. "So who was that man? And why'd you get into that fight?"

Scooping up his bag, Konohamaru scowls. "Some creep, I don't know. He was blocking the exit, being a real nuisance." He fixes his school uniform's tie. "I was trying to leave the store, but he was watching someone with his binoculars. And when I told him to step aside and leave whoever he's stalkin' alone, he just…attacked."

"You did good, kid. You stood up to the jerk. He oughta be thrown in jail!"

Blushing, Konohamaru finally sizes up the other. "Hey, it's not every day I get to see a pretty woman play ninja with cookie-cutters. That was really cool." His eyes fall along her figure, but then it rests on the soup ladle dangling loose in her paws. "Listen, I hate to admit a girl saved me but…if there's anything I can do to repay the favor, here's my number."

So high schoolers these days own business cards? Hoity-toity, show-off, Naruto wants to grumble. Yet, she can't help but be proud of the kid. Good for him.

"Well, uh, actually. If ya ever hear someone lookin' to hire someone for a job, I kinda need one."

A very coy smirk spreads Konohamaru's mouth. "I'll put in a word with my gramps," before waving goodbye, that is.

At this point, Sakura rushes onto the scene.

"Naruko, are you okay?"

When Naruko turns her way, she's relieved to see blue eyes flashing back to normal.

"I'm fine. But I think you got a stalker, Sakura-chan." Naruko grins wide, flashing a thumbs-up. "Heh, don't worry though, I sure showed 'em. Good thing I was here to protect you."

"It wasn't Lee, was it?"

"I didn't say the guy was an eyesore, Sakura-chan," scoffs Naruko. "Just that the guy had a dark aura. Big difference."

Sakura seals her lips, not wanting to admit she might have hallucinated. How Naruko's right eye turned into glass with a blackening backdrop…instead, Sakura rubs her own eyes.

"I think we should get back to campus. We can put the groceries in the student lounge. I'll drive. You can tell me about your new roommate, or we can plan events for the girls," oh how Sakura's getting herself pumped. "Shaanaro! We're going to have a blast at school!"

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"Naruko Uzumaki, please report to your advisor's office immediately!"

Tch. What a blast, alright.

Someone said college meant freedom: chew gum whenever, go to the bathroom without stupid permission, and play the slots on your phone. And yet, Naruko scoffs when for the third time the loudspeakers roar with demands. Just like the high school days.

Moments like this, meant retreating to the rooftops.

Breathing in the concrete, letting the wind uplift, forgetting about classes—Naruto stands atop of Keio's Sciences Building.

Although one scrape on the back of the arm reminds how soft this new flesh is. All she did: was lean on the brick wall, with both arms behind her head, and the coarse surface chafes some skin. Bloody scrape and all.

Another announcement roars, and Naruto thinks the loudspeakers might unhinge and fall.

"Uzumaki, Naruko please report to Dr. Hatake's office immediately. Room 1015 North."

Gazing up at the blue sky, she almost falls asleep. Until the door opens, that is.

Naruto cracks one eye open to see Hinata tiptoeing out. "Oi, if Kakashi sent you…tell 'em I'm gone for the day."

Hinata clutches her books tighter, as if it's some protective shield.

"I'm here because we need to talk."

To hear those words has Naruto rousing wide awake. And Hinata steps forward, but only three measly steps, aware of the bomb she's about to drop.

"So how much was the sex change?"

The bomb turns out to be nuclear. And there's no shelter, nowhere to duck—and Naruto considers jumping off the roof for a second.

"Huh?" is what's managed instead.

"I'm not fooled by the disguise. Not anymore. And I want to know what's going on."

The reality is: there's not even a second to process. Naruto feels all marbles spilling in crazy directions. Tell her the truth? Make up another ludicrous lie? But what story then? And to thwart her perceptions, Naruto would need to come up with something clever and, just, fuck it!

"It's not what you think," it's a hot ramble, and everyone knows it, "I just woke up one morning like this and—listen—you wouldn't understand. No one's gonna believe me!"

"Naruto, I don't care what everyone else will think."

To hear her say the real name, forces all hackles to rise.

"The truth is, I don't know. The holy mafia is on it, y'know the one Jiraiya is in?" The lost expression flashing across, has Naruto grasping at the straws . "Course you wouldn't, I never mentioned it before…it's supposed to be a secret. Someone or something put a spell on me…and Sasuke is trying to help me revert back and—"

"I knew Sasuke was in on it. He always is."

At this, Naruto stumbles towards her. "You believe me, Hinata-chan?"

"'I'm not sure what to believe, but I know it's you, Naruto."

The shrill, giddy voice of Naruko tears the air. And yet, somehow Hinata recognizes this…as Naruto.

"What gave it away? I mean, I obviously don't sound the same."

Hinata slumps forward with a defeated smile, like she's been fighting a long battle with herself, for nights.

"You do. You do sound the same. Same way of buttoning your sentences, the way you addressed me, the way you smile at me—and when we fought—I saw your birthmark right here," she points to the small, but distinct freckle just under Naruto's right collar bone. "And when I did my research, I couldn't find any Naruko Uzumaki. I know there's no cousin, either. You don't have any living family."

In a brash move, Naruto leans closer to her.

"What now, you gonna rat me out to the others?"

"No!"

"So why do you care?"

Hinata flushes a deep crimson, neck to ears, and blurts out.

"I just thought y-you," her tough guy act crumbles like a sweet cookie, "you left me but y-you're…here…and…"

"And? You got somethin' you wanna say to me?"

In fact, she's a leaf wavering in the Naruto's intense winds.

"I…no."

"Fine, if ya say so. Tell Kakashi if he wants me, he's gotta come get me himself," says Naruto, who now brushes past the other. "I'm goin' to eat, smell ya later Hinata."

Hinata feels her heart drop more and more with the sound of Naruto's retreating footsteps.

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With thirty minutes to go until Sabaku's hellish class, Naruko stands on line at the ramen bar.

At least this joint's outside: where you could eat in the fresh air, and the campus gardens smells of jasmine with hints of orange.

Until that is, Sai wedges in all slick-a-rick—wearing a thick scent of musk and patchouli. Naruto winces. A girl's nose seems to be worlds more sensitive. And everyone waiting in queue can tell how Sai's happy to use Naruko as an excuse to cut ten other people. I don't blame him, the line's movin' slower than a snail high on grass.

"I forgot your name," confesses Sai, with a provocative smile.

Sai squeezes in, much to the chagrin of everyone else.

"It's Naruko."

And why the hell is Sai wearing a leather jacket anyhow when it's ninety degrees?

"Strange, the name doesn't really suit you," he comments. "Naruko translates into 'the moist one' in ancient sanskrit. That's far better than being named after a fishcake like your cousin, that's for sure."

More sore than a peptic ulcer, Naruko turns red as hell. "Well maybe that ain't so bad," she bites out. "Moist fishcake—that sounds like a delicious combination."

"Depends, princess. If we're talking sex, then I'd prefer just the moist."

"That's my daughter, you snake!"

That's when Jiraiya clacks across in wooden sandals, swiping his Giorgio Armani frames off. Eyes aflame with menace, the old man manages to seize everyone's attention. Even the servers freeze because Jiraiya waves a giant bamboo shoot like it's a weapon.

"I'm your daughter now, really?" deadpans Naruto.

"I was going to wait until you were done eating. I'm not sitting back to watch this reprobate put the moves on you. He has no class!"

Jiraiya sounds so coarse and deep with adrenaline, that Naruto blinks in surprise. And Sai raises both hands up in the air. With the dull end of the bamboo shoot pressing against his neck, Sai's eyes crescent in defeat.

"I'm sorry sir. I'll go and eat somewhere else."

Nice and slow, Sai backs away, inching closer to the exit. So quiet, so tense, until the deviant sophomore pays Naruko a farewell glance that says: see you in class, princess. Wearing a devilish grin, he even waves Naruko bye, and makes the universal gesture of 'call me, doll'.

Provoked, Jiraiya stomps his left foot sending a shrieking shraack, about to give chase. Yet like a whip chain, Naruko's wrist launches out and seizes a handful of Jiraiya's tail of hair.

"You're not chasin' anyone down!"

Whirling around, Jiraiya towers over her, declaring from the bottom of his gut.

"I don't want you near him. Do you understand me?"

It's so humiliating when all classmates from across grades, just stare at Naruko like she's a toddler getting reprimanded. College campus too, of all places and times, where you're supposed to have a semblance of independence and freedom. Flushing from the spotlight, she lashes out.

"I'm not your daughter, you made that crystal clear the other time!"

"That was a mistake. I didn't know…"

"Mistake, my ass! Speaking of ass, was it worth it? Groping me, I mean, your own 'daughter'!"

At this, Jiraiya chokes and waves it all away with a flurry of his hands.

"Let's go somewhere private, I'll get you something to eat."

"I'm not goin' anywhere with ya, big-time hypocrite."

Jiraiya sighs and tosses aside the bamboo shoot (which now come to think of it, must have been ripped off from the potted bamboo nearby).

"Your ramen's on me, kid," he says in a gruff voice, "we need to talk."

And thus, they sit side by side on high barstools, with Naruto slurping on fresh hot ramen. The whole while, Jiraiya rests an elbow, and he lazily watches the bowl get devoured by such a hungry kid, he thinks to himself: at least she didn't lose Naruto's appetite. If only Jiraiya knew, that this was probably the only meal Naruto would be eating today. Ever since the transformation, the food's always forgotten, and she goes many nights with a rumbling stomach.

"So you're not hot for me as your bunny anymore?" she asks between slurps. "And since when am I your daughter?"

"Goddaughter doesn't have as nice of a ring to it. Either way, forget what happened before. You're my responsibility."

"I'm in college, I'm my own man," Naruto tells him, pointing the chopsticks in accusation. "I don't need you making a scene, treating me like I'm helpless! Come on."

"Naruto, oh…Naruto. You're not a man anymore. And if I were you, I'd start showing some respect to your elders, especially me, considering I'm your ticket back to your old form. Me and Tsunade raised you better, I'm hearing you're rude as ever now. Cutting class, not even addressing your teachers with honorifics and—what are you—stop doing t-that…"

Naruko leans in, splaying a palm across his shoulder. Very determined to shatter his fronts, to test his true intentions. She lets her hand crawl across his chest like a mischievous spider, and when it finds an area of revealed skin at the base of his neck, twirls her finger in circles. Anyone who has eyes could tell Jiraiya was tearing apart from within. How his will's being tested, when his eyes fall onto Naruko's puckered lips, and his skin turns to gooseflesh at the way she teases him.

"I promise to be good," she purrs, penetrating through the wanton haze. "You said you have a ticket to my old form?"

The fact that Jiraiya starts stumbling and stuttering, Naruto knows that despite whatever the old man says…he still has the hots for Naruko. And maybe in another life, the old Naruto had fun getting his way with it, rendering Jiraiya into an incoherent, nose-bleeding mess.

"I'm working on it," he manages. "But first…"

"Mmm? Yes, Master Jiraiya?"

The lust in Jiraiya's eyes sparks a flame until finally the man snatches her wrist and twists it off him. You could see the muscle twitching across his temple, like a lightning strike, how much restraint he's exercising.

"I need you to pay close attention. Strange things are happening, and you and Sasuke are right in the middle of it."

"Oh?"

And when Jiraiya sobers up, losing the stutter, Naruto leans back impressed. Maybe the old man really meant business after all.

"Go on, pops. This prophecy mention anythin' about a transformation? One morning the hero's a man, and the next, a broad, somethin' like that?"

"I don't believe so."

She kicks back, arms crossed behind her head.

"Then whattaya know, looks like this is a waste of my time!"

"The end of times is not a waste of time."

Naruto just gives him the funny eye. "You're soundin' like all the religious quacks now, it's lame. Okay, so let's hear it! C'mon!"

Miffed, Jiraiya lights a cigarette, ignoring the dirty glare the chef pays him.

"The prophecy foretells of the second coming. That the hero who saved the world before would be reborn. I think that's you."

"Well that's a nice bedtime story. But unless ya got any intel on why or how I'm a woman now, then we're done here."

When Jiraiya pulls the stick out of his mouth, he says plain as air:

"Your karma mark is linked to Kaguya. Let's start there."

"Nice try, old geezer. I don't have any marks."

"It should manifest in the palm."

Naruto flips both hands over, finding nothing. Thus in a frantic whirlwind, she spins on the stool. Feeling herself up, checking for any tattoos or marks, and ultimately she finds not even one freckle out of place. Was karma invisible or something? Did it only reveal under certain lights or circumstances?

"Are ya sure Itachi wasn't just seein' things? I mean, damn, I don't got time ta check for the mark now. I got class. Sakura said if I miss anymore then Tsunade might kick me out her dojo." Leaning with a cocky air, she says smooth, "Ya know…Aunty Tsunade would be even more pissed, if I said it was your fault I'm missin' class. Over your bullshit prophecy."

To which Jiraiya puffs a pfft sound, looking ten years younger. Being in Naruto's presence, was like sipping from the fountain of youth. So reverting to his brash side, Jiraiya unsheathes another cigarette from his carton. Right before he can light the damn thing, Naruto seizes it.

"Give it back, kiddo."

"Nah, and while I'm at it, I'm confiscatin' your stash. It's for your own good." Her paws snatch his fanny pack. "Now before I go. Is there anything you wanna say to me?"

Like an I'm sorry.

"Yes, I almost forgot."

A small smile creeps upon her face...

"Madara's sword has gone missing. There's a whole investigation."

…only to shatter.

"Not what I was hopin to hear," is the grumble. "You can't teach an old dog new tricks, I guess."

"Don't you see? That sword would sell millions on the black market. It could be yakuza. But why now? They must have someone working on the inside."

Naruto's phone bleeps with text messages. Surprised to find Sasuke writing her a note: I haven't seen you all day, tell me you're not caught up in more trouble. To which she narrows her eyes, and grunts low enough, typing madly: oh, you'll see me tonight, with helluva surprise. That's when Sasuke sends a text with just ellipsis, "…", and the message stinks with doubt.

"You don't care about the safety of the world? How Madara's sword in the wrong hands could wreak havoc?" accuses Jiraiya.

Naruto nods, but anyone can tell it's a dismissive, spacey one.

"Yeah, the apocalypse is comin' to town, and you wanna rope me and Sasuke into it. But I gotta get to class and then prove to everyone that I can cook a meal without takin any causalities."

With this, Naruto bolts out, the door chiming behind.

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"Helluva surprise."

That last text message haunts him until seven in the evening. When Sasuke twists the keys in the lock, he hears loud banging from the other side.

And he sweeps in, only for everything to be in…one-piece. In fact, white linen drapes over the dining table, while a candle sits at the center, and wine glasses stand tall at the ends. Except the wine glasses were empty.

"What's going on?"

His voice cuts with paranoia. Just as Sasuke treads with caution, in fear of stepping on a land mine—or if Naruto's setting him up with another prank.

"Yo! Sasuke! I tried to get us the fancy stuff, but they carded me. They wouldn't sell me wine or sake."

Bursting out like the genie of the bottle, Naruko poofs out from the kitchen because a trail of smoke follows her, and it reeks of fine meat. She's wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her sportiest look to date. And she lifts a Pyrex roasting dish with very thick mittens.

"Also damn, what perfect timing! Just took the roast out, and I gotta be honest, it took so much willpower not to nibble pieces off it."

"What is all this?"

"Me proving you wrong, Uchiha. What else?"

He didn't realize he was holding his breath. After all, what did he expect her to say? He's relieved that it's Naruto and not some blonde broad really trying to be his fiancé.

To punctuate, Naruko sets the main course slap bang on the table.

"I had the craziest day, I dunno where ta start. Before I go into it all, how about ya change into loungewear or somethin'."

That's the plan, anyway. Sasuke drifts in and out of his room. Coming out of his quarters, though, he smirks—just how easy it was to egg Naruto on—into even cooking them a meal and fetching all the groceries. Everything could be turned into a game.

Unnerving though how Naruto sizes him up.

"Can I help you, Uzumaki?" he bites out.

In fact, her gaze points to his exposed arms, or biceps rather. Worse, her eyes move in such a predictable fashion, to his core and then trailing downwards. Sasuke jams his hands into his pant pockets, especially as she traces his body with a mix of envy and…a flash so familiar in the eyes of other women, dare he say, admiration…

"Nothin just, you're still in tip-top shape. You got gains." And then she whips away, turning red. From shame, maybe. "I'm not even sure if I can schlep a box of my own DVDs from storage."

"At least one of us could, then."

Her brow twitches. "Anyway, I went outta my way for this, and I figured, heck. It's my turn to ask a favor from you."

When he shrugs, Sasuke scarcely hides how his body coils under the pressure of her expectant gaze.

"And that is?"

"Before we eat, I wanna practice a new move on you."

"You want to fight me?"

Naruto glares at his incredulous tone. "I'd prefer if you didn't fight back. It's a new move and I just wanna see if it makes sense."

"I'm not your practice dummy, dummy."

Brushing past her, Sasuke can feel the spikes jutting out from her aura.

"Why not?" she barks.

"It's not the same if I let you win."

Even though they take their seats in silence, a cold war erupts. Naruto passive-aggressively stabs the meat, beating it up on her plate. Slamming the flatware whenever she could, she loses control of the temper tantrum. Naruto even breathes asshole on every other exhale, to taunt him out of the silence.

And yet, Sasuke cuts into the food without a word.

That is, he purposefully swerves his focus away from her forcefield. Being this impervious to her taunts, you should have seen how quick Naruto transitions from an angry child to a pouting one.

And the pouting Naruko—he's not ready for.

Cheeks puffed out, brows furrowed in distress, hair dangling along her drooping face…what a pitiful portrait. And her usual cockeyed optimism dulls when she props her face on her hand and she sinks like a wilting flower. And that scared the hell out of him.

"Dinner's not half bad," he says, changing the subject. "And you didn't burn the place down. I'm impressed."

"Thanks."

Which sounded so dead to his ears, Sasuke's eyes widen.

"Naruto?"

"What!" the cry rips from the soul.

Sasuke blinks at the show of passion. And how terrible Naruto was at bottling up emotions, even for two minutes, it utterly destabilizes Naruto's very body.

"If I play along with your game, will you quit looking so pathetic?" he asks.

Only for her to raise up with disbelief. "It's not a game," she denies. "But you doin' me a solid for once would cheer me up."

"Then I'll do your stupid favor, as long as you stop pouting. It's ruining my appetite."

His heart clenches at how she jolts up, beaming. Gripping the knife tightly, he tries to ignore the rustle in his chest. Like a bee's trapped inside, stinging him from within. His heart once again swindling him, the rhythm plays off-tune as another double beat has him faltering. All because he succumbs to the request. Naruto turns into a cloud of pure joy—it's toxic poison.

So intoxicating, that he's manhandled into the open space of the living area. Questioning his own sanity, for right behind him, his friend gives him a rundown.

"I noticed in this body, there's a ton of natural strength in the legs, so I wanna tap into it more."

"Just do the move, moron, before I change my mind."

Sasuke stares ahead through the floor-to-ceiling window. Distracting himself, watching the planes soar across the city, the strobe lights from below…

"Okay so, I just wanna warn you, it might not go how I want. It's a test run."

"Fine."

"And the safe word is Uncle Madara, just like always so—"

"Shut up and do it."

He hears Naruto sniggering from behind, "That's what she said!"

Before Sasuke could return with a remark, a sack of potatoes rams the back of his knees. How her one ankle slices through, destroying his balance in a single snap. The world inverts. Goodbye Tokyo skylights, and hello beige carpet. Yet before he eats the floor, Naruto forces them into a tumble. Sasuke lashes out in reflex. His instinct: that if he's going to drown, he'd take her with him. Now they're driving off into a detour because she's yelling at him.

"You're supposed to just take it! You're ruining it, you bastard!"

While his back's on the ground, he straps Naruto to his chest like a dysfunctional seatbelt. He's gentle while also showing off his strength. It drives her mad, though. She wriggles like a fish caught in the net of his arms: all frantic and wild. The crazy bucking movements she makes, creates friction, sparking his flesh. Tuning him to a new frequency. He's alive, and he pants in exhilaration. The passion of her struggle, even against all odds—every oof she makes, and all the tumult as her body shakes—transmits deep into his bones, kindling an ache deep below. The burning spreads like wildfire.

Sasuke only ups the ante, sneering. "Safeword?"

The second he glides his arm up menacingly, pressing on her, she spits:

"I gotcha! Just where I want."

Naruto dispatches a swift elbow jab, just barely missing his face and a kick to his shin. Stunning him for the briefest of moments, but enough for her to bend backward. And with all her might, her thighs wrapped around his head—squeezing him like a nutcracker. Such intense strength, and his hands shoot up to pry her off him.

Yet her ankles crisscross over his throat, and he chokes when she tightens.

"I call it the widowmaker. Ya like it? Hm, since you can't talk, I'll answer for ya." She makes a nasal, cheap imitation of him, "My name's Sasuke, and I'm the biggest loser. Naruto owns me, no matter what, all hail to Master-Naruto!"

A surge of power floods his veins. Wanting to punish her for that. Every second her thighs envelop the sides of his face, threatening to take him under, he pushes back. He gathers enough force to unwind the knot on his throat.

"Nuh-uh, you gotta say the safe word."

It's not enough to stop him. Sasuke overcomes her death grip, twisting her legs off him. Naruko scrambles back, stupefied. Looks like her trump card's out the window now. Because upon his advance, she lashes out. Only for him to snatch her two dainty hands, stapling them onto the floor and above her head.

The scrunchie came loose a long time ago, so all her blond hair splays under her. She's a complete mess under him.

"Is that all you got, deadlast. I expected more from you."

Naruto's eyes widen. "I—I just need more practice, is all."

With how tight Sasuke pins her down, she can't even wiggle her hands. They turn numb. Now his scrutiny has her clenching up. The way he scans her head-to-toe, lingering on her chest until Naruko can't take being viewed under the microscope of his judgment. And she convulses on a grand scale, her thrashing whirls into a vicious tornado.

All in vain, however, as every collision serves him like wooden logs to his fire. The ache spreads. He needs her to surrender. And Sasuke hovers low enough to the point their noses nearly touch. Phantom grazes, here and there, while his body eclipses hers. His shadow casting over like a thundercloud promising a ton of doom, and he can feel Naruto stiffen up.

"All hail Sasuke, is more like it."

"You got a big head. You always did."

"Bigger than yours?"

She grinds her teeth, and screws her eyes shut. "I'm gonna destroy you when I turn back."

"Or you can just say the safe word, loser."

She screws her eyes shut.

"Uncle. Madara."

However, it was selling her soul to the devil, or to Madara himself, that's how painful those words were.

"Now was that so hard?"

The second Sasuke lets go, Naruko springs into the air like some kid on a pogo stick. Unconsciously, his eyes catch the way her breasts bounce. No brassiere to filter: how her two peaks greet him through her white shirt, saluting him. And suddenly the room feels more humid than a rainforest; was it their panting hot breaths, making the air so sticky. Because even with the distance Naruko puts, he burns with fever still.

"If it's a sparring match you want, Uchiha," she whips a finger, her canines glinting. "Then that's what you're gonna get. Rematch, tomorrow."

"The loser doesn't call the shots."

Her hair stands on end as if she's been tasered. Without sparing another moment, Naruko storms off into her room.

BADOOM! The door slams.

Adrenaline dissipates. Sasuke freezes over, unmoving in this sudden silence. He warmed up next to the furnace, in Naruto's aura, only to be thrown out in the cold. So sitting alone, he thinks any second now Naruto will storm right back out.

Yet instead, he's left stranded and wondering…how would she have fought for escape? What if she didn't use the safe word, what then?

As he passes the mirror, he sees how depraved and in dire need he is of a cold shower. This never happened before. Absentminded, Sasuke buries a hand in his hair, for once feeling stumped with even the impulse of curiosity shushed. Let the elephant in the room stand and stare because today, he's not offering a real explanation.

That's when the intercom blares, and "Joseph" the doorman calls.

Sasuke opens the line with an annoyed, "What is it?"

"Your older brother is on his way up," says the other, ever so joyfully. "I thought you might have wanted a heads up."

Right now? Sasuke slams the line after blurting out an empty thank you. Out of all times, of course. When the tent in his pants couldn't get any louder.

After unlocking the door, Sasuke dives on the couch, throwing a pillow over his crotch. Flicking the remote, he turns on the TV—and just in time too.

For the doorbell rings once, but everyone knows it was a complimentary ring.

"Hello, little brother, I do hope this isn't a bad time."

Sasuke trains his focus on the television, feigning indifference. Yet, he finds it impossible to play cool with Itachi shining such a knowing gaze: like police helicopters with their searchlights, illuminating every dark corner in search for the criminal. Itachi circles around the couch, and now Sasuke has no choice but to meet his brother in the eyes.

"Is everything alright?" asks Itachi.

"Yes, why?"

Itachi blinks before glancing at the fifty-inch flat screen.

"Well for starters, I know you don't fancy the kid's anime channel."

"Naruto left it on."

"And you haven't been sleeping. You appear unwell…disheveled, in fact."

Sasuke clenches his jaw, and he nearly launches the pillow at that concerned—determined—expression, although that would blow his cover, and he needs the pillow to hide the situation downstairs.

"I'll sleep more, then," he grates out. "Is that all?"

Itachi narrows his dark, simmering eyes. "You seem eager to get rid of me. Makes me wonder what my little brother is hiding…this time."

"Just tell me why you're here, Itachi."

His older brother takes a seat beside, and confesses:

"I want to apologize. Much has come to light, and I no longer suspect you are behind Naruto's transformation."

"Then who?"

"Our father."