A/N: I never thought I'd be writing fanfic for fanfic, but I'm obsessed with DoS and-independent of Naruto itself-it's pretty much taken over my mind as much as a separate fandom would. This is, essentially, to keep me sane while I'm waiting for Silver Queen to update.

Naruto likes Shikako. He likes the way she invites him to dinner at her house and cooks for him but doesn't complain when he wants to go to Ichiraku's for lunch. He likes the way she explains things to him, patiently, without getting frustrated or angry when stuff doesn't make sense and he has to ask questions. He likes the way she listens to him, really listens, and thoughtfully considers everything he says like it matters, like he matters.

He likes when she and him and Sasuke spar, and at the end of training when they all fall down exhausted, panting and grinning tiredly at each other. He likes when he asks her for help and she always drops everything she's doing, without fail, just for him. He likes when she smiles at him—like she cares about him, like she believes in him.

Maybe she's forgotten, but Naruto never has. The first day at the Academy, the very first time someone had ever walked up to him and asked him if he wanted to play ninja. Someone who looked at him like he wasn't dirt on their shoes or a really nasty spider or a monster under their bed. A boy with a lazy slouch, and the girl behind him, peering at him hopefully. The girl who smiled and said See you tomorrow, and nodded when he asked—brightly, hiding his nerves, certain he'd be rejected again—we can play ninja again, right?

Shikako is his first friend. His teammate. His precious person. His family.

And she's falling in a rain of blood, with a sword sticking out of her chest.

Naruto barely registers rage, and despair, and agonizing failure—no no no not again, supposed to protect her, why didn't I move, what have I done, can't lose her, won't lose her, Shikako—before everything is consumed by a blaze of red.