On the East:

Team meetings. Sakura, Sasuke.

Sakura: A girl who is very cute. I like her, but I gross her out, or something.

Sasuke: A boy who is my rival. For Sakura, for everything. Or something.

And then, around the bend, out pops Sensei (three hours late).

Kakashi: A pretty lazy guy who is always late to everything. I don't think he cares for me much.

But here's the mission: Mrs. Takeshi is painting her nephew's nursery a new color, and we have to help her do it. I will get...

200, 300? Ryo. Yeah? Yeah.

...I really need to start doing more missions. Solo, if that's what it takes, even though those always pay the crappiest. 'Cause this isn't gonna cover it, and the last time Mr. Kiga cut my water, Sakura couldn't stop complaining about the smell.

But you know it won't be enough.

Oh, well. Can't be helped.

"Naruto!" Sakura hisses, because Sasuke's obviously too good to bother himself beyond a glare, and Sensei is ignoring us like always. I... have paint? On my shirt?

Oh, on the floor! Guess I should've used more newspaper.

"Sorry!"

Sakura sighs—rolls her eyes, too—and takes me by the hand to show me where the wash bucket is, already guessing that I wasn't paying attention to where they pointed it out in the mission debriefing. Which is true.

She shoves the wet rag to my chest and says, "I'm sure you know how to mop."

"Uh, yeah, thank you!"

She leaves in a huff. I really am grateful to her, you know. For putting up with me.

But I'm on my knees, scrubbing and scrubbing, and my clothes are pretty wrecked. I feel soggy, kind of like old cereal left floating out in a clogged drain. Unwanted.

Suddenly, the team is done painting, but I'm still working to clean up my mess. Sasuke struts out first, not even looking back to make sure the screen door shuts behind him. What a bastard.

Then, Sakura. Running after him.

Then, Sensei strolls out with his face in that stupid book, telling me to finish up by 21:00 and that he'll have my pay mailed to me.

I'm alone in here. Scrub, scrub, scrub.

But hey, it's okay! I'm okay!

Because...

I'm not alone!

Because I have you!

And I'm done now, anyways. I can go home. Home... Home is nice. I need a change of clothes, which means I need another pair of what I have on, but cleaner. Which is all I have, lucky me.

Door = unlocked. Move Sayaka and Tazuki to the window with more light. And:

Wait. Oh.

That time, when I challenged Sasuke to that somersault contest. And the time when I jumped in all those mud puddles. And when I tried to balance kunai on their edges along my arms. All my clothes are dirty, ripped up, or—ew, semen.

Well, that's fine. I can wash some more. There's no problem, not at all.

But you know, don't you.

'Cause you checked, you sly dog. Checked the faucet—remember back there? Yeah, there's no water. Which means no power. Which means soaking, paint-sticky clothes.

It's always an option to run around naked till my stuff dries. Not a popular one, though; only twenty-five minutes till the meeting with the old man, and I don't want him to have, like, a heart attack, or something. The geezer would definitely... well... okay, he might be totally chill with it. He's cool like that. But even if he's all fine and dandy about naked Naruto, I doubt everybody else will be.

I can't show up like this. Ever since I dropped in the Hokage office wearing that toilet paper toga, they've put in a dress code—which, according to all those screaming biddies, will be enforced with a shock collar the next time I break it.

So what to do?

Sakura. Oh, I can see it now: "Naruto, you idiot, I'm not just gonna hand over my laundry room! It's your own fault for letting yourself run out of clothes. So get out!" And then she'd find a way to make this into me being a pervert, even though it's my clothes getting thrown about, not the other way around. As if by being in the same place as her underwear, my stuff can somehow absorb their girly essence. Or something. It's Punch! for me, either way.

Kiba. He doesn't even like me, and even if he did, I think my clothes would come out even worse than they are now. Dude's seriously filthy—literally carries a dog on his head all the time.

Shikamaru. Too troublesome, leave me alone. The same would go for Choji.

Iruka-Sensei! Who is busy teaching right now.

Kakashi-Sensei. I don't even know where I'd find him.

The old man? Wait, no. That brings me back where I started.

Sasuke. He'd slam the door on my face, but...

Fuck it. I wanna fight him.

Out the back alley, around the first market square, and ugh, there's just no way to walk without my sandals squelching all over the place. But whatever, at least I'm sure this is the way to Sasuke's house. The Uchiha complex is still pretty common knowledge, despite most of its inhabitants being totally dead. The gate's closed, but that's nothing a ninja like me can't handle! Climb for a bit, and I'm in.

God, this place is creepy. Nobody even bothered to take down all the storefronts, so there's rotted milk cartons and whatnot everywhere. Jesus, it's as if they were all like, Hm, got all the bodies? Alrighty then, nothing more to do here. Where the hell does the bastard live, anyways? Probably the big house, right?

Knocks. Twice. Three. Four. Fi—

"What do you want, dumbass?"

Good old bastard.

"I need to dry my clothes. Can I use your machine?"

A sneer, and my fists are really itching, now. "What, broke yours? Or forgot to pay your bills again?"

I'm too poor to even pay my stupid fucking bills, much less afford to ever forget about them. Not like I'll ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that, though. So I stand here and take the insult like a sucker, mute like the moron that everybody calls me.

Just tell me to go. Just tell me to get the hell out of your sight so I can leave and forget all of this. I really don't give a shit anymore. I don't care about being dry for the old man's appointment. I don't care about being a sopping mess for the rest of my stupid life. I just want to get out of this godforsaken ghost town.

But he does nothing but stare at me, still standing in the doorway. And then, with the biggest I-am-such-a-tortured-soul sigh ever, he turns around and walks inside.

Does he want me to follow him, or...?

"Are you coming or not?"

Getting in, right. The place looks even bigger on the inside than it does on the outside. A little dusty, but actually pretty nice, overall, if you ignore the brutal murder bit. Stupid bastard and all his inheritance money.

But where the fuck is he?

I don't like being here. I have twenty minutes to somehow dry my clothes and make it to the Hokage tower on the other side of Konoha. I most certainly do not have time for Sasuke to dick around and abandon me to figure out where his shit is situated.

"Oi, show me where it is so I can get out!"

Silence.

"Hey! Where are you?"

Come the fuck on.

"HEY—"

"Christ, just shut up already."

Holy shit, he's right behind me. As if I wasn't on edge enough.

No time to reflect on that, however, since Sasuke grabs my wrist and yanks me down an adjacent hall—and ouch, friggin' bastard, it's like he's trying to pull my arm off. What, does he think I'm here to snoop or something? Should I tell him just how little I care about him and his stupid life, that he was the my last choice of people to go to for help? That one of these days, I'll beat him to a pulp in front of everyone? That he's not nearly as special as he thinks he is, not by a long shot? How would he feel if I... tried to hurt him back?

But then he freezes mid-stride.

"And I suppose you were just going to wear nothing until your clothes dried?"

"No! But... Um, shit."

He takes off again, refusing to ease up on his chokehold, and finally, I see the dryer. Bitterness fizzles out with the sudden relief, realizing that maybe, just maybe, everything will be fine. For once, I feel like being quiet.

But when I throw my coat in the machine, Sasuke curses, storms forward, and abruptly dives in after it.

This is disturbing, of course. "The fuck?"

He pulls it out and throws it in the washer instead. "Wear some of my clothes until you get yours washed. Don't you know drying it first will make the stain even worse, dumbass?"

I do, but I don't have enough time to go through the whole process of washing and drying. I'm about to enlighten his smug ass on my difficult situation when he throws some stuff at me. "Put this on," he says and shuts the door.

And even though this is the best outcome I could hope for ('cause let's be honest, there was no way I was gonna get my things dried in time), I still don't really want to wear his clothes. Turning them inside-out can hide the Uchiha emblem, but there's no way to deal with the weirdass turtleneck thing that literally all his shirts have. Who decided that neck cylinders were a cool look? Seriously, it comes up over my chin. This is ridiculous. Not to mention how thin and low-cut the shirt is; I feel like the slightest breeze will flip it up over my head, flashing my guy-tits to the world.

Oh, don't forget about the armbands. You can't even pass them off as some type of bracer; a scrap of loosely bound cloth isn't exactly gonna block a whole hell of a lot, and it won't even be good at absorbing sweat. But those aren't essential to the outfit, thank God, so I don't have to wear them. The important part is that Uzumaki Naruto gets fully-clothed.

Fifteen minutes left. I can do this. Believe it.

I slam open the door, feeling enthusiastic and rejuvenated, only to have it caught by Sasuke before it hit the wall. Man, I'm starting to think a glare is just his normal face.

"It's a change of clothes. No need to tear the house down."

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Anyways, thanks for your help, bastard. See you later!"

"...What?"

I pause. "What do you mean, 'what?'"

"Where are you going? Don't tell me you're gonna leave me to finish washing your clothes."

Oh, right. Explanation. "I've got a thing with the old man, but I'll be back to take care of them, don't worry. Then I'll be on my way."

But it really seems like he's worried, or something. He's still scowling at me, of course, but it's a little unbalanced, introverted. Something's going on inside his head. He's—

Suddenly, I... offended him? 'Cause more than anything else, he's mad. Closed off and broody. Which is not too far from his usual moodset, but still, we were kind of getting along, weren't we? What did I do?

I don't get it.

"Sasuke...?"

He turns away from me.

"Then why are you still here telling me all of this? It's not like I care about you or your stupid date. You're not nearly as special as you think you are, not by a long shot. So just get out already, Naruto."

That...

Might be the first time he ever called me by my name.

But fuck, I'm gonna be late.

Take off. Run. Jump. Dodge—oh God, glass everywhere, vase totally smashed. She looks really pissed, but I have to keep going. Bound over traffic with her glare on my back and try not to think about it. I see the tower; I burst through the door; I skid into place before the Hokage Admissions Desk, Sasuke's dumb shirt flapping about. The secretary looks down at me.

"Yes?"

"I have a-a, a meeting!"

"Hm, let's see. Wait a moment. Okay. Lord Hokage will see you now."

"Ah, thank you!"

They let me in. Hey, old man.

"Hey, old man!"

The old man: An old guy who is the Hokage. He's always been very nice to me.

He puffs a little on his pipe, smiling that grandpa smile of his that he always has. "Hello, Naruto."

"You know why I asked to see you, right?"

"Hm... does it have anything to do with what you're wearing?"

Somehow, I had hoped he wouldn't notice. "Um, kinda."

A chuckle, and his voice is all tobacco-warm in the sunshine. It's really nice.

"So it's about money?"

"Heh, yeah. Now that I'm an 'emancipated ninja' and all, I don't get the stipend to help me pay for stuff, and the regular team missions barely fill Toady halfway. And even with all the solo D-ranks I can possibly take, it's still not gonna be enough to get me past next month's rent. So can my team maybe do some C-ranks, please?"

"That's something you should really talk about with your Sensei, you know."

Yeah. Yeah, I know. But he doesn't like me like you do, old man. He won't really listen to me.

But I have my answer.

"...Alright, fine. I'll ask him. But if he says no—"

"He won't say no."

"Really?"

"Really. Your team is your team, and it'll come to be the most important part of your life, someday. These are the people you can rely on more than anyone else in the world. It's something that every Hokage candidate should know."

Aw, shucks. You know just how to butter me up, don't ya. I crack a grin, and his face gets even softer, somehow. I really like this guy.

"Okay. See you later, gramps. Keep that hat warm for me!"

"Goodbye, Naruto."

Out into the world, crowds upon crowds rushing by me. So many that no one stops to look around and realize that it's me. I'm just another fella going about his day. Konoha rush hour is my favorite.

Kakashi-Sensei won't say no. It's a strange thought, but the old man had said it so surely, so convincingly. Sensei's on my side. It just feels weird. A weird concept. But the old man was sure about it, for some reason. And wouldn't he know best? He's the old man. No one knows better than him.

Sensei's on your side. Maybe it'll become more normal with time. Maybe I just have to keep thinking it.

I move to the edge of the road and look in the store displays. Yum. Iruka-Sensei gave me a cherry sundae like that, once. It was delicious.

Wait, what is—?

"Special Deal One Time Offer! ! ! !

Green Edition Bow/Arrow... ... ... ... ... ... 3 6 0 0 両

Itsumo Lightning Saber... ... ... ... ... ... . 4 8 0 0 両

Retype Brawling Gloves... ... ... ... ... ... . 2 3 0 0 両

Smooth Grade Shuriken... ... ... ... ... ... . 2 0 0 0 両

NKG Kunai... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 2 5 0 0 両

And New Limited Edition

SAMURAI APPLIANCE GEARSET

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 9 6 0 0 両

Available In Konoha Through 167.65.90

PIRATE WARES ®

Open 6:00–24:00

920 Zone 14 Sector 8d "

Limited. Motherfucking. Edition.

I gotta check it out. Look around; nobody's looking. Careful, now. I peel the poster off the window and cram it in my pocket.

920, 920... ahah! Here we are. Walk inside. There's a few people standing around, but they don't notice me come in.

But look at all of this. Look at it! There's friggin' one-two-three-four-five sided swords? Just imagine what it'd be like walking up a battlefield wearing some of this stuff, with Sasuke pissing his pants, Sakura falling over me, and Kakashi-Sensei being impressed. The Greatest Hokage Uzumaki Naruto of the Flamethrower Annihilation Technique. Can't buy any of it, sure, but it's still fun to think about. I wonder if they'll let us try stuff on?

...They probably do, right? I'm gonna say they do. I slip on a face mask and check myself out in one of the mirrors lining the shelves. It's kind of like Sensei's except that it's red and lined with spikes. So cool.

A poke on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir, but I can't help but notice your interest in our special Zero-Survivor mask. I can show you some smaller sizes of this model in the back storerooms, if you like?"

I turn around. Glasses, middle-aged, kinda greasy. Pretty helpful, though. He's probably got all the sweet, restricted merch back there, too. Score.

"Well, sure! I guess this is a little too big for me."

He gawks at my headband. "Oh, you're a ninja! Er, yes, you'd need—"

The mask slides off my face.

"need—"

I can see my reflection in the lens of his glasses.

"need—"

And there's that look we call recognition.

"...Ah."

He stops smiling.

"I'm afraid you'll have to buy something if you're going to stay. We have a policy against loitering."

Eyes gather, one by one. Other people in the store recognize me and stop shopping to watch.

"Well?"

Everyone's staring, now. Waiting for me to explode and prove everything they've ever said about me right. To be dangerous and unstable. To have to be put down like a dog.

A mother hides her kid behind her skirt.

I hate this.

"But... that's bullshit! I'm 'loitering,' so I have to get out? That's not fair! Other people are doing the exact same thing, and they don't have to go!" And I'm yelling, yes, because of course I have to yell, because it's bullshit, it's not fair, and they all make faces at my yelling, but how can they hate me for yelling when they're the ones who always want me to yell—

"Listen, young man," the man spits, as if I don't even deserve to be called that. "You can go trapezing about the streets all you like and not have to face any consequences, but when you start violating our private property, you go too far. Leave, or I'll call an authority!"

I hate this.

"An authority? An AUTHORITY? I'M A NINJA, YOU FOUR-EYED ASSWIPE. I AM THE FUCKING AUTHORITY. WHO YOU GONNA CALL TO KICK ME OUT, HUH? ME? THAT'S THE DUMBEST SHIT I'VE EVER HEARD."

A woman gasps like she's personally offended, and outside the store windows, where people have stopped to listen to my shouting, an old lady clutches her heart as if I've just said the armies of Iwa have rolled up to our gates. Some men start to approach.

That's fine. That's fucking fine. I'll take them on. I'll take on all of them. I don't care.

But of course, even though I'm not a dog, I've still got a leash on—still got reigns threaded through the bridle jammed in my mouth. That's the odd, startling image I'm struck with when what reaches me first isn't any civilian's dumb fist, but an open hand placed on my shoulder. I try to spin around and knock the teeth out of its owner, but the hand is hard. I can't move.

"Mah, I think that'll be enough here. Please forgive my student—teenage hormones and all that, y'know? I'll see to it that he's better behaved in the future."

And then—

Oh, God, I'm gonna be sick. Dizziness and the smell of newly-cut grass, for some reason. I'm outside? At a training ground? What?

"So what was that, Naruto?"

Sensei?—Sensei! Standing right in front of me, perfectly used to whatever stomach-twisting madness went along with his teleportation jutsu. "Kaka-Sensei!" I have to exclaim. "How—"

"Answer the question."

...Right. Yes, of course, the chewing out. How could I have forgotten what always comes next. Maybe because it's often so hard to look at Sensei and see anything but a wall, no matter what sing-songy paint he sometimes puts on the bricks. I don't know if it's the mask or the fact that he's an "elite Jōnin," but his face can out-poker a rock.

Or maybe it's that I'm me.

But don't think about that.

"That guy was kicking me out for doing nothing wrong! It's not fair—"

"And who said you get the luxury of fairness? You of all people should know not to pick fights with civilians."

"Sen—"

"This was stupid. This was reckless. What will it take for you to understand that other people won't always be around to correct your mistakes, huh? Do you value your position as ninja at all? Because it wouldn't take much for you to lose it."

"But—"

"Now, what you're going to do next is march back there and apologize, understand?"

He sounds angry.

And you know what? Iruka-Sensei would say the same junk. The old man, too. But with Kakashi-Sensei, something's different.

He... really doesn't like me.

Poof.

Sensei's disappeared, the smoke blowing around and getting in my eyes. Crickets are chirping.

And I.

I just.

I don't really want to think about it.

Don't think. Don't think.

I find my way back to the shop. The guy won't let me in. The crowds still outside the place part around me like I'm a rabid animal, backing away as I get close, murmurs dropping into silence.

Don't think.

And suddenly, I remember something: Sasuke. He's mad at me, and while that's nothing new (not even close), I really wish he didn't feel that way. Because he is someone who... who could really be my friend.

I've gotta get him to spill on what bothered him so much. On the surface, pissy Uchiha doesn't look different from normal Uchiha, but damn, it's really noticeable when you have to actually work with him. Maybe he's already over it. Who knows?

So back to Sasuke's place, slower now. Apologize to that lady from before for knocking down her vase and scattering the glass. And yes, of course she recoils. She hates you.

Just keep going.

And we're back.

I raise my knuckles to knock, but it opens before they can hit the wood. Sasuke hands me my clothes, turns around, and shuts the door on my face. Doesn't say a word.

Standing on the doorstep. There are no sounds. There is no movement. Just me,

myself,

and I.

And I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.

Just stay with me.

Sunrise.

Sunset.

These are intervals well-liked by him. They're the times of day that the sky turns orange, and although treetops and buildings block much of the horizon, the color spreads out far enough for everyone to see. So he knows these times are orange, and even though he has better things to do than climb up on his roof and watch it happen, he can still appreciate it for his favorite color.

But there's something else about it that gets his attention—snags the eye of something kept deep down inside him. These times are strange times.

Strange yet familiar, because the sun looks the same in both positions. Both hover just above the ground, orange, caught between night and day. They hold a special relationship at that point of orbit; no other place in the sky can claim to have such a doppelganger.

Naruto likes to imagine them as reflected across the noon, one on the East and one on the West, waving to each other across the span of the day. Because they're friends, you see. The same person, beginning and end.

Always happy to see each other.

There he is! In the mirror. Over there! On the water. All you need to do is look, and you can have somebody. If you can open your eyes and just look, see yourself, know yourself...

"Hello, friend."

Echoes endlessly.

On the West:

What is this thing in front of my door?

A... tent? With someone inside it? I don't mind if my neighbors like to go camping, but I'd appreciate it if they didn't block my apartment with their supplies.

Wait. There's a peephole. Who the hell...?

Oh! These guys.

Konohamaru: A really good kid. He's kind of like my henchman, except I would have henchmen who could actually accomplish what I order them to do.

Udon: A kid who always looks a little freaked out by me. But he seems very loyal to Konohamaru, nonetheless.

Moegi: A little girl with a painful hairdo. How does she put up with that? Ouch.

"I know it's you, Konohamaru."

"Ack!"

They tumble out the sides of the tent.

"As expected from the Boss! What gave us away?"

"Eh... it was a lucky guess."

He's really boggled by that one. Taking a step back with a definite "thinking" expression on his face, one of his feet lands on his scarf, and at this point I'm getting ready for him to trip and fall backwards down the stairs. But before he can come up with an explanation, Udon is ready with an answer.

"So the Boss is experienced with all aspects of the ninja arts; even his luck is finely honed."

Sure, let's go with that.

Konohamaru wheels around, and my hand shoots out to catch him—! But then Moegi grabs his arm before he can tip over, pulling the scarf out from under him. Balance restored, all he can say is, "Amazing! I never knew someone could be so well-rounded. I bet they didn't teach you that in the Academy, huh?"

"Heh, as a matter of fact, they didn't. I learned it through my super-special, secret training technique."

Moegi gasps. "Secret training technique? For luck? Will you show us?"

They exchange anxious looks with each other, looking like a bunch of excited puppies.

"Well... if it's for my biggest fans, I suppose I can give a lesson."

"Yeah!"

I crouch down, and they huddle around me one centimeter from my face. "Now, what you have to do," Pause for dramatic effect. "Is prank somebody. But it can't be just any kind of prank. It's got to involve them going after you and you finding a hiding spot on the fly. When your luck gets strong enough, a 50-50 chance that you'll get caught will turn into a 60-40, and then a 70-30, and then an 80-20, until you're practically uncatchable!"

"I see..." Udon says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But what should our plan of action be?"

I stand up and turn the knob behind me. "That's for you all to decide."

"We'll make you proud, Boss!" Moegi shouts as I close the door. I listen to them scurry down the stairs.

Ah, prank nostalgia. Like the time I replaced that lady's makeup with finger paint, or the time I spiked that jerk's ice cream with vanilla extract. I wonder what they'll do. I can only hope that I won't be the target.

But I really like them, you know. They're good kids, all three of them.

Stomach growls.

No food around. The milk is so spoiled it won't even pour out into the cup. Damn.

But what about... nope, there's no mail. No paycheck yet.

And it is. So. Hot. No air conditioning + summer in the motherfucking Land of Fire = Hell on Earth. The air is so goddamn stuffy I can't even breathe. I'm going to die. Help.

And oh, poor Tazuki! He's just about wilted... such droopy leaves... hang in there... I'll get you away from that evil, evil window. Sayaka, too. Such a trooper. I wish I had some water to give you guys; it hasn't rained in forever. Is it 21:30 already? Shit, it is, which means the stupid lockdown drill has already started, and I can't leave the apartment. I promise: first thing tomorrow morning I'll go get you all a whole liter from the community well. Okay? Okay.

Nothing to do but sleep, I suppose.

Wow, the bed is so nice and comfortable.

Sleep.

...

...

...

...?

What...

Banging...

Go away...

Naruto!

!

Get up. Step. Step. Step. Door swings back. Hello...?

"Sakura?"

She jerks me outside. It is morning.

"First of all, you're late to the team meeting, which I can accept, since Kakashi-Sensei won't show up for another hour at least. But then..."

In this light, I can get a good look at her, and what the hell is wrong with her face? Am I dreaming?

"But then your trio of brats decide to spring-trap my route with peanut powder. Which I am very allergic to!"

Is that what that's supposed to be? A rash?

"And who do you think it is that they said had put them up to it?"

...Shit.

"PUNCH!"

Ow.

But she doesn't let go of me, looking kind of confused. "Uh... why are you wearing Sasuke's clothes?"

Oh. Oooooh. Whoops, forgot to change last night. "It's a long story, Sakura."

Instantly suspicious. "You didn't steal them, did you?"

Um, no. "I had a meeting with the old man, I mean Hokage, and my clothes were trashed, so the bastard lent me his stuff for it."

"Wait—you had a meeting with the Hokage? What for?"

"Er, well, I thought I did. But I actually didn't."

"...Uh-huh. And why exactly would you think that?"

...

"Naruto?"

"Please drop it, Sakura."

"What?"

"It really doesn't matter. Can we just go to the team meeting? It'll look pretty bad if we're even later than Kakashi-Sensei."

"Ah... But... My face..."

"Oh, don't worry about that! You look fine; my Sakura is always beautiful no matter what. Believe it!"

I think she blushes, but I can't be sure from all the other red splotches on her cheeks.

"Thanks. I guess we can go, then."

But... I can't. There's something wrong; I'm forgetting something. Um. Ummmmm. What is it?

"Naruto?"

Hold on, Sakura. Lemme think for a sec.

"What's wrong?"

Right on the tip of my tongue. Come on. Think.

"Hey, I'm not gonna stand here all day. It's way too hot for this; I'm already getting thirsty, and I haven't even done anything!"

Thirst. I'm thirsty.

Wet. Water.

A promise. I promised.

"I'll, uh, catch up with you later. I've gotta get some water from the well."

"Why?"

Oh, my God. Through the window. I can see Tazuki. From this angle—it's so obvious—leaves so sparse and yellow and shriveled—he's dying.

"I have to go!"

Run. Run. Run. Run. Fuck. I need a bucket. Run back. Where is it? Where is it.

"Naruto, will you just stop, for a second? Hey, what the hell? Stop—"

But. In the sink. The faucet. There's water coming out the faucet.

Did the old man pull some strings...?

No time. Water. Cup your hands—steadier, you're losing it—carry it over, and pour. The dirt is more sand than soil, but wet sand is better than nothing.

And yet...

"Are you even listening to me?"

Tazuki. My friend.

He's dead. He's been dead for a while.

Just. Just give some to Sayaka.

It's alright, you idiot. You're okay. Whatever you do, don't start crying.

Don't start...

Crying...

Damn it. Damn it all. Tazuki. Tazuki.

"Naruto! Open the damn door!"

And what am I supposed to do? What could I have said? What could I have done differently?

"FINE, then. Ignore me too, why don't you? I was just trying to be nice to your dumb ass because I thought you liked me, and I felt sorry for you. But you obviously don't really care, so whatever. Sasuke's waiting for me at the training grounds; he didn't feel like coming with me to fetch you. Because he doesn't want you there with us. And you know what? I don't either."

She stomps off the porch.

My legs... they really don't want to move.

But you've gotta chase after her, you fucking loser...!

You're wasting time.

"Hah—" An exhale that breaks off in something like a sob. Come on, get up—how did I end up kneeling?—and hold it in. You have to go explain. You can't let it end like this. So just... leave Tazuki in his pot...

Stop it. Making yourself cry, like that. Just shut the fuck up and don't think. That's right, hand on the doorknob, but you have to hold it in, now. What'll she think if she sees you cry? That's right; you don't want that.

So I walk outside. Down the stairs. And start running through the streets. The world is so normal.

But there they are: pink and dark blue. "Sakura!" I shout between gasps. "Sakura, I didn't mean it!"

Getting closer, and God, it hurts. "I—" My voice is too raw, a thick slick of mucus running down my throat. "I had to, to, to take care of something important. It was urgent, really. It could-n't wai-t…!" And that's snot, isn't it, what I'm tasting?

"Whatever, Naruto. I don't really care," she says crossly, crinkling her eyebrows… oddly. What's wrong with her face? She must have put on makeup to cover the rashes, but it's too pale for the rest of her skin color, and the redness still shines through.

She's embarrassed. And mad. And ignoring me, now.

"So, um, Sasuke, how did you sleep last night?" she asks, pointedly turning away from me.

And there's the fucking Uchiha, leaning against a stump way off from both of us, doing his utmost to convey how little he gives a fuck without actually pissing off.

Do it, bastard. Open your shitty mouth. I'm waiting.

"I slept."

"A simple fucking question!" I immediately snap. "Can't you give a straight answer for once in your goddamn life?"

"Oh, like it matters how I fucking slept. And like you're one to lecture me about politeness," he bites back.

"Me? I would just tell her how I slept! It's not that fucking hard to explain!"

"Oh, yeah, I can see how you slept great. Curled up in my fucking clothes—have you just spilled shit all over your own, or is this how you like to get off, faggot?"

Tackled him down, his fist clips my jaw—I've got him on the ground, and he grabs my wrists before I can wrap my hands around his scrawny neck. He flips us over, but I've kneed him in the gut, but he's wrestled my arm behind my back, but I trip him as he tries to stand up, but he still manages to throw me off. And of course my knees get skinned, because I'm still wearing his goddamn white faggot shorts—

And he dodges the punch because he's fucking faster than me, but I'm prepared, because I hurl my body into him from the side, but he doesn't lose balance, because his stance is better than mine, but none of that matters, because I still manage to grab onto his shoulders and land the meanest headbutt of his prissy life.

And I hold onto him as he stumbles back, and my forehead is strangely warm, and I can't see anything past the streaks of lightning popping all through my skull. But they fade, and Sasuke's eyes are wide and blind as he looks right through me, blood dripping down his forehead into his open mouth. We fall back down, and he still isn't fighting back, and why can't he see that

"we—" left hook

"don't—" right

"want—" left

"you—" right

"here—" left

"with—" right

"us."

And you know what? It's fine that Sakura pushes me off him and gushes over his bruised face. It's fine that she hits me and screams shit like what is wrong with you? It's fine that I just stand there and take it, and it's fine that when Sasuke shoves past her with murder in his eyes, I don't win the fight. It's fine that Kakashi-Sensei cancels our mission for today.

Because the ringing in my ears won't die down, and my black eyes have swollen too large to open, and when I fall asleep tonight, I'm sure you'll be right there with me.