A/N: tags and warnings include: graphic depiction of violence, explicit sexual content, explicit language, agnst, mutual pining, AU, fix-it, engaged, maybe marriage who knows, Infinite Tsukuyomi, everyone is stuck in the illusion, Naruto and Sasuke communicate by arguing, So Much Arguing, Sasuke is in denial, elements of Japanese mythology and culture, some slice-of-life elements, Uchiha Clan World-Building, swol Naruto and Sasuke because they're ninja duh, SasuFemNaru, female!Naruto, rule63!Naruto, cisswap.

Wake up.

Sasuke came into consciousness sluggishly, groaning in discomfort as his body slowly awakened. Each limb felt heavy and simple movements like wiggling his fingers seemed extraneous. He didn't dare open his eyes, keener on chasing the last remnants of his disturbing dream than dealing with a body that felt like lead. His mind strained to decipher the flashing images from his sleep. An old man—or thing—with horns…the glowing, dead eyes of the Nidaime and his impassive, scrutinizing gaze…feelings of dread and rage splitting him apart. The name, Obito, resonated as his surroundings became clearer.

But the context behind his unease was gone.

His body registered the daylight as a warm glow. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and he reflexively squinted when the soft, morning light hit them. He blinked a few times, allowing his sight to adjust to the room he was in. There was a single, deep red wall while the others were a creamy beige. They didn't initially register as abnormal, and rather, had made him feel irrationally calm; a reminder of how comfortably sleepy he felt. Sasuke inhaled deeply through his nose, exhaling through his mouth as his eyes slowly slid shut. He was tempted to bury his face into his cushioned pillow and fall asleep once again.

Something was…off. The dream had put a bad taste in his mouth and his gut squirmed at the annoyance of losing it so quickly. It was enough of a disturbance that his short-lived sleepiness slowly faded away and his lethargic senses finally began to function. He regained some feeling in his right arm and instantly ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn't in pain per se, but it was as if his body refused to accept that it had woken up and his nerves were still half asleep.

Then it hit him like a tidal wave.

Konoha's deep, green forests scorched to the ground, fighting alongside Naruto again. Blood, smoke, and death as thousands of shinobi slaughtered by an army of demonic tree entities and revived, elite undead.

Did he…did they defeat Obito?

Ebony eyes snapped open and suspiciously re-analyzed their surroundings. He was in a bedroom. From the faint, familiar chirping and the sweet rustle of leaves echoing from the window, he knew, with a sinking feeling, that he was back in Konoha.

Why would he be in some unrecognizable bedroom in Konoha as opposed to a hospital or a prison?

The harder he thought about it, the more he recalled the man—thing—with horns. Perhaps it was more of a tangible reality than a nightmare. He remembered that Naruto had been there…in murky dungeons that resembled her internal prison that housed the Nine-Tails. He remembered feeling that his hatred temporarily satisfied with the weight of the world collapsing onto their shoulders, a more pressing burden. She had looked shockingly mature with a solemn, hollow smile. He doesn't quite understand why the details are so fuzzy and why he can't remember much of the battle itself other than the fact that it had happened. What this meant…was distant. As if he were wading through fog that continued to tangle rather than dissipate and for fuck's sake why couldn't he get his body to react? He suddenly stiffened, overcome with the sensation of his heart beating violently against his chest… Had someone drugged him?

Sasuke felt fear. Genuine fear…he couldn't remember the last time he had experienced the sensation.

Panic grew inside of him when he realized that he's blacked out for gods know how long and he wasn't in full control of his body. Why else would it be taking so long for him to regain consciousness? His mind returned to Naruto. He realized that he doesn't remember if they had fought against each other or…not. He thought he conceded. Temporarily, until they annihilated some greater threat.

He groaned in frustration. He couldn't remember the outcome of the war. He didn't know where he is or why it hadn't immediately registered as foreign, and he didn't understand what was happening to his body. Something was wrong. Otherwise, the bizarre surroundings would have triggered something, and he'd been more obviously angry at the alarming fact that he's back in Konoha and did not understand what, when, why, or how.

Childishly, Sasuke closed his eyes and opened them again, blinking a few times as if willing the scene to change. His right arm could move, but his left one felt numb, as if something was on top of it. It's then that he realized there was a warm growth against his left side, squishing his arm underneath its weight and breathing noisily. Hair was pressed against his cheek and soft breasts melded against his bare chest. He grumbled loudly, again, frustrated that he obviously got laid, in Konoha of all places. It felt like the start of some drugged-out scene from those trash porno novels Kakashi used to read.

Why the fuck couldn't he remember the war?

He finally forced his stiff neck to move so he could peer at whoever was sharing his bed, kick them out, and get out of this hellscape as soon as possible. When he caught sight of bright blonde hair, he felt his blood completely drain from his body.

As if struck by lightening, Sasuke finally found the strength to bolt up, uncaring of Naruto slurring incomprehensively in protest before he scrambled out of the bed with as much grace as he could possibly muster. Naruto rolled onto her stomach in response, taking the pillow he had been using and buried her face in it. She spastically kicked out her legs, tearing the burgundy sheets away to reveal unblemished, tan skin and the corded muscles of her back. Sasuke watched in horror as she continued to fidget, quickly dislodging the sheets to display long, toned legs and a scar-less body that he knew was impossible for a ninja of her calibre. But then again, not everyone had a massive chakra demon sealed within them. Her wild, golden mane splayed around her in a weird halo and glowed in the morning light. Black, male boxer briefs covered her lower back.

His—his brain supplied.

He doesn't—for now he refused to think about it. His gut reaction was to activate his sharingan to determine if this was an illusion, but there's something keeping him from doing so. Not yet.

He inhaled deeply, resisting the urge to scream, and walked out of the bedroom cautiously, fingers tracing the wall as he moved down the hallway. It felt…real, despite this entire domestic scenario feeling like more of a fever dream than a genjutsu. He made his way into a small living space and as soon as he walked through it, he couldn't help but experience vague uncanniness with the entire situation. The room looked much different from the spaces he and Naruto inhabited in their youth. There's no real decoration per se, but one of the blue walls was sequestered with ornamental weapons. Numerous potted plants were haphazardly scattered around the room in an eclectic assortment of vessels. There's a cabinet tucked away in the corner that he somehow knew had weapons and ninja scrolls in it and there was a small coffee table in the centre of the room with a few scratches and dents in it. There was some manga resting on it that definitely looked like the type of ultra-violent crap Naruto used to read. Despite the strange assortment, the room looked decently modern, with a single dark blue wall balancing out the others, which were a paler shade of blue.

As he continued down the hall and into the kitchen, he noticed stray shuriken in the walls. Some of which had pictures he didn't want to look at, while others held up notes he didn't care to read. There were even a few posters. Despite the method of hanging, they were organized in a non-specific pattern that complimented the space as opposed to making it feel messy. The kitchen looked mostly clean, despite a couple stray ramen cups on the counter that would have spiked his irritation if he hadn't been freaking out. On reflex, he opened the first cupboard. It was filled with mugs, an assortment of tea, and a large bag of ground coffee. As if on autopilot, he filled up one mug with tap water and chugged it. He then went through the domestic, morning motions of making himself tea: somehow knowing where everything was without knowing why; stuck within a bizarre state of eerie calm and utter panic.

He stood at the counter, trying to find his bearings in this strange situation. Why did he feel so natural in this environment despite having never been here before? Why didn't this feel like a regular genjutsu? He was about to take a sip of the green tea he'd just brewed only to freeze at the sound of a gargantuan yawn followed by a sleepy mumbled of "ohayogazaimasu."

Loud footsteps made their way towards him and inflamed all his nerves. He refused to turn around, too shocked to flinch when a calloused hand gently rested against his lower back and a quick kiss seared into his bare shoulder. For the first time, he felt completely petrified and did not know how to react. The mug he was holding was pulled out of his hands. Naruto took a disgustingly loud slurp, probably to avoid burning herself as she often did when they were younger. She then made a noise of displeasure, waltzing towards the fridge. He dared to look over at Naruto from the corner of his eyes and was relieved to see her dressed far more decently than before. She had a white t-shirt on. His—Sasuke's brain supplied again, as if the small Uchiha clan symbol, the small uchiwa fan, stitched onto the back wasn't a dead giveaway. She propped the fridge door open with her hip, bending slightly as she rummaged through it one-handed.

"Since when do you drink green tea in the morning instead of coffee?" Naruto complained as she pulled out a carton of milk and took a chug of it instead.

She finished with a resounding smack, placing the carton back, and closed the door with her foot. She then slid the mug across the counter towards him and opened the cupboard with all the mugs only to pull out the tin of coffee. Sasuke's completely unsurprised at Naruto's unchanged, gross habits and felt slightly mortified when he realized that he'd been unconsciously admiring her in his clothing. He hasn't had to deal with feelings like that in years and they were best left buried, forgotten, and dead. He leaned against the countertop, breathing furiously through his nostrils and attempted to ground himself in a situation that was rapidly spiralling out of control. Nothing was making sense, and he felt as if his brain was shutting down after being overloaded from absurd information.

His racing thoughts are abruptly cut when Naruto started cooing sweetly. He whipped around to see the blonde crouched down, petting a big, black cat with bright, jade eyes. Tama—his brain supplied as Naruto continued to affectionately pet the cat. Why did he know the name of a cat and why were he and Naruto here? Did they…were they living together?

Anxiety grew in the pit of his stomach.

Obito—he forced himself to think—Obito revived Madara and then—

"—You okay?"

Naruto is staring at him concerningly as if he'd grown three heads. For the first time since he'd woken up, he took the time to stare back. Naruto looked…well, the same. Same unruly, unkept hair. Same comical expressions and a tendency to hide her female curves in male clothing. Her round face was devoid of its childhood chubbiness, but he'd noticed that during the war. The only thing different about them were the whisker marks, or rather, lack. She seemed less clumsy, more graceful in her movements. Her eyes—still so beautiful, brilliant, blue—narrowed.

"Sasuke…" she asked cautiously. "Did something…happen?"

He realized he'd been glaring. Shaking his head, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and tried to push back his growing migraine.

"I'm fine…" he croaked out. "I just—"

"—Sasuke—"

"—Just shut up for a second, usuratonkatchi!" the familiar insult thoughtlessly rolled off his tongue.

Suddenly the panic blossomed full force and he's struggling to breathe. He made his way back towards the living room, weaving through furniture, and over to a window. Something wasn't right. His sharingan flared wildly. Naruto was right on his heels, babbling incoherently as he stormed towards the window. There was a gentle thread of chakra seeping out of him, out of her, out of the goddamn cat and it's definitely not a regular genjutsu. He gripped the window frame and stared out into Konoha before freezing. Right next to the sun, a full moon was high and present. Ominously it dripped red, swirling in the shape of a sharingan.

The Infinite Tsukuyomi.

Memories rushed back into him with the force of a hurricane. He felt his body slump forward and the windowsill crack underneath his grip. They had been in the middle of the war; the God Tree imprisoning shinobi and forcing them into the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He'd used Susano'o to block out the deadly rays of moonlight, but…there was something before that. Before Madara had taken the form of a god and he had received the rinneagan. The other man with horns.

Had they… had they failed?

Naruto grabbed him by the shoulder and forcefully turned him around. She stared at him worriedly, belting, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Was this a dream? Or was it a new reality?

"I…" he stammered and bit his tongue in frustration, eyes unwinding into their normal state. He stared into Naruto's quivering azure eyes and spoke calmly, "I think I'm going to vomit."

He pushed past her and made his way past a mewling Tama and didn't allow himself to think about why he knew the exact location of the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and locked it for good measure. He stalked over to the sink, turning the faucet on, and splashed icy water onto his face. Exhaling heavily, he tried to restrain his breathing before looking into the mirror. His reflection wasn't quite how he remembered it. He didn't look aged…his body and face looked the same, although his hair was slightly longer. Despite the obvious marks and remnants on his chest that dipped lower, the only difference was that the bags under his eyes were gone as were the obvious signs of strain. Against his left shoulder is the stark, red Anbu tattoo. He tore his gaze away and looked down at his hands. They looked the same. Long and thin fingers calloused from years of fighting. There were faint scares littered across them and his knuckles are on the rougher end, but definitely not as damaged as before. His nails were short, clean, and shone a healthy pink unlike the small dirt that amassed around them from constant travel. They weren't trembling, but he doesn't doubt for a second that if was less composed, they would be.

He forced himself to keep his breathing stable, concentrating solely on his chakra and state of mind. The sudden silence, beyond his breathing, slowly twisted in a gentle hum of ringing that slowly increased until it was blaring. His vision twisted, and small, black spots erupted. Sasuke quickly shook his head, moving past the spacious bathtub and toward the stand-in shower. He turned the facet to its maximum setting, hoping that the drumming water will jolt him out of an oncoming panic attack. Despite his efforts, his chakra was still thrumming with nervous energy and he was so hyperaware of his surroundings that even Naruto's distant, but worried, chakra burned him. He hadn't felt this way since he discovered the truth about Itachi. He tore his boxers off, throwing them over the edge of the tub and stepped in the cold spray, waiting slowly for it to ground him as he tried to recollect his thoughts.

He didn't know the details or inner workings of the Infinite Tsukuyomi, but from what he can tell he'd essentially woken up within the dream reality. He tried to think back to the war…Obito…or Madara, he can't quite remember who, had stated that the mass hallucination wasn't meant to be dangerous, but a reflection of victims' dreams—whatever that meant. He tried to think of the events leading up to its casting, but he still can't piece everything together. Frustrated at the holes in his memory, he took a deep, stabilizing breath and rested his forehead against the cool tile. Was this…gross domesticity with Naruto part of his dreams? Or was it part of some sick, twisted nightmare?

He didn't want to confront that topic and successfully buried it back into the recesses of his mind where it's remained since he was a preteen stuck in Konoha. Fuck, he doesn't remember the last time he could have confidently called Konoha his home.

Eventually, he turned the water off, dried himself, and grabbed that black, cotton yukata that hung on the backside of the door. He still had a headache that he doubted would go away anytime soon, but it's a comforting reminder of his usual state. He ran a hand through his thick, wet hair and told himself that his hand definitely wasn't shaking as he grabbed the doorknob before pausing. Obviously, Naruto, whether she was a product of a dream or some other entity, was unaware of the circumstances outside of the genjutsu and believed they were in some kind of…relationship. He scrunched his nose in distaste. He'd have to avoid raising any suspicion if he wanted to get to the bottom of this. If she was a product of Madara or Obito, it was unknown of what kind of danger would arise if she discovered he'd broken out of his delusional ancestors' twisted mind control.

Slowly, he opened the door, trying to act like his usual, aloof self, and strolled into the kitchen. Naruto, surprisingly, was there and boiling ginger from the smell of it. She looked at him suspiciously, still lounging in his boxers and t-shirt. She walked straight into his personal space and he forced himself to resist swatting her hand away when she placed it smack onto his forehead.

"The fuck do you think—"

"—Are you alright?" She asked seriously. "I didn't hear any gross puking noises, so I assumed you'd suppressed your nausea with your ridiculous, Uchiha stubbornness."

Sasuke would be lying if he didn't admit he was a little stumped that Naruto hadn't chocked over a few of those syllables.

"I'm fine," he replied waspishly, swatting her hand away and taking a step back. "I had a weird dream" he bluffed easily. "It's giving me a hell of a headache."

Naruto hummed thoughtfully, turning around to turn off the boiling, ginger-infused water and grabbed a clean mug. "I think," she emphasized, "that you caught some kind of bug from that nasty bar we went to for Ino's birthday last night," she said, pouring the steaming liquid into the mug. "That, and probably too many shots of sake."

She turned to face him with a wicked smirk on her face, tsking condescendingly, "weak form, Uchiha. I had just as much as you did."

He grabbed the mug from her outstretched hand with particular viciousness, knowing that he better indulge in her fantasy of some kind of hangover instead of revealing his confusion and dread.

"Not all of us have a demon fox inside of us for backup chakra," he tested, waiting to see her reaction. She responded in classic Naruto fashion, taunting him in response, "Even without Kurama, I'd drink you under the table!"

Sasuke paused briefly, arching an eyebrow before he continued to drink from the mug. That was…interesting. To his knowledge, neither Madara nor Obito knew the Kyuubi's actual name—to his limited understanding, it was something Naruto had recently discovered. He'd file that away and think about it later.

"Anyway," Naruto continued, walking back toward the kitchen to grab a fresh cup of coffee. "I hope you aren't feeling too gross, otherwise Kaa-chan will be disappointed."

His interest sparked at the mentioning of Naruto's deceased mother. "Come again?"

She looked at him deadpan. "Aren't you supposed to be a genius that remembers everything?"

He forced himself to pinch the bridge of his nose, willing himself to lower his irritation and avoid sparking a fight between himself and the temperamental blonde.

"Remind me?"

"Sunday brunch. With my parents. We haven't gone for ages since stuff kept coming up and—"

"—Right…that,"

.

.

.

As they walked through the streets of Konoha, it struck Sasuke just how different everything was. Granted, he realized that things must have changed since he had left, but during Pein's attack, the proud village had been razed to the ground and word of it had travelled as far as the Land of Snow. He remembered that during the war it had still been recovering from ruin. Maybe it was changed in this dream, but he hadn't expected it to feel so unfamiliar. Many of the previously crumbling buildings were restored, bursting with colour and modern additions. There were a few high-rise apartment complexes, reminiscent of Amegakure in its odd, futuristic style. The people behaved… normally. They didn't appear to be caught in a trance and neither did Naruto.

He stared up at the Hokage-iwa and frowns at the realization that Tsunade's head is no longer looming over the village amongst the other stone sculptures. Was Konoha's expansion a result of the Yondaime's influence? He didn't know much about the Yondaime…other than his cheerful disposition and extreme prowess as a zombie. That, as well as the fact that before his death he sealed the most powerful demon in existence within his infant daughter—something Naruto had confirmed earlier this morning. He chewed on his tongue, averting his eyes from the sculptures, feeling his already poor mood sour. He wondered if the Uchiha district was still intact. He's positive he'd seen a few Uchiha Police vests but didn't dare look closer. For now, he needs to wrap his mind around this…situation with Naruto.

Despite their tumultuous morning and the small, strange changes in Naruto's appearance and behaviour, the blonde seemed like her usual self. She wore an obnoxious orange, bordering neon, t-shirt and tight, black leggings. She greeted people with a bright smile, and he wonders if the villagers are being genuinely polite, or this is part of the genjutsu. Word had travelled that Naruto was the Hero of the Leaf and when he'd first heard it, he rolled his eyes at the irony. Even now, he can't shake his memories of disgusted looks, whispering behind her back, the odd bruises that he would notice that he knew weren't from training, but was far too young to understand the gravity of what was actually happening. Its…odd to be looked at neutrally without dirty looks or hushed whispering. Rather, some villagers nodded respectfully in their directions and a few even greeted them openly—especially fellow ninja. Naruto even fist bumps one of them, some loser whose name he's forgotten but recognizes vaguely from their days in the academy. He doesn't dare activate his sharingan again but can't shake the unsettling feeling of restrained anxiety. Sasuke looked toward the blood-red moon, its baleful gaze glaring over the obvious denizens of the world below before. He suppressed a shiver and looked at Naruto, babbling incessantly and utterly oblivious to his discomfort, walking with her hands behind her head and gossiping about the night before.

"—And Sai is still such a fucking bastard. He backs out of a simple drinking game and called me dickless? He's the one who needs to grow a fucking pair!"

Having realized his cold stare, Naruto stopped ranting and glanced at him from the side of her eye with a raised eyebrow. He stared back passively, raising an eyebrow in response to her own, not trusting himself fully to speak.

"I don't know what's made you so pissy this morning," she huffed, her chakra crackling irritably. "But if you're still nauseous than maybe we should just go home."

"I'm fine," he stressed, trying to calm his own fluctuating chakra that seemed to spike with his anxiety. Naruto gave him another strange look but ultimately ignored it as they approached an apartment complex in the better side of town. Naruto led the way up spiralling stairs, jogging up the stairs before hurrying to the end of the hallway on the top floor. She didn't bother knocking on the last door, swinging it open and cheerfully calling out "Gomen kudasai!"

He followed her cautiously into the spacious apartment, sliding out of his sandals and setting them down neatly beside Naruto's. Before he could start scanning his unfamiliar surroundings, the Yondaime's head popped out from behind the corner.

"Ohayo, Naruto, Sasuke-kun!" he smiled wildly, disappearing for another moment to rummage behind the corner, before re-appearing.

"Ohayo Tou-chan," Naruto grins, immediately embracing her father. When they pull apart, Naruto is still gripping the Yondaime's waist, and for the second time, since he first saw the Yondaime resurrected through Edo-Tensei, he's struck with the painful realization of how similar Naruto is to her late father. Same tan skin, same unruly sunshine, blonde hair, and the same electric blue eyes that glowed vivaciously and twinkled mischievously. For the first time he feels…resentment swell. Resentment and—how fucking typical of Konoha to demonize the child that so obviously belonged to the Yondaime.

All the more reason to burn the village to the ground the moment he escaped this nightmare.

The Yondaime finally broke out of his daughter's childlike hold, which he wonders if its subconscious, before he took a few steps toward him. Sasuke bowed slightly, unsure of how to behave in a way that was unsuspicious. "Yondaime-sama," he greeted, feeling out of place and not knowing what to say.

"Sasuke-kun," The Yondaime responded politely, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "We've known each other for years. Minato works just fine!"

Naruto's eyes narrow and Sasuke tensed in response, waiting for some kind of confrontation, as a loud, foreign voice booms from across the apartment, "Minato, did those two brats finally come over?!"

"We're not that late, Kaa-chan!" Naruto called with slight panic, diverting her attention from him and jogging somewhere into the apartment. "Besides, it's Sasuke's fault, dattebayou!"

Unable to keep his character any longer, Sasuke rolled his eyes irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose and Minato clasped his shoulder, heartily chucking "jeez, some things never change, do they?"

A moment later, a woman with deep red hair, reminiscent of Karin, approached from what he assumed was the kitchen. She's shorter than Naruto, but their faces are the same with a slightly curved nose and a crooked grin. She spread her arms widely and embraced him in a bone-crushing hug that he reluctantly returned.

"Good to see you, Sasuke-kun! Sounds like both of you had a good time last night," she pulled away, winking one of her dark blue eyes at him.

"Kushina-san," his mind spontaneously supplied, his brain rapid firing responses that would hopefully be in character. "Not sure if you can call it a good night when I had to babysit—"

"—I was the one doing the babysitting, bastard!"

Admittedly, he has zero recollection of what happened the night before but Kushina guffawed, her shoulders shaking and her eyes squinted just like Naruto's did. He felt the pressure of passing another test lift from his chest.

As if a puppet jutsu was forcing his limbs to move, his body uncannily knew where everything was in Naruto's reconstructed "childhood" home. He's able to help set up for their late breakfast, knew where everything was stored, and was prompted by small information to navigate conversations. He also took the time to observe Naruto interacting with the parents she's never met. They all collided well with each other and Naruto seemed so genuinely happy, unlike the countless times she forced a happy front to dissuade the darkness that surrounded her. He felt a sombre hand dig into his stomach. To an extent, he still believed that it was a curse to have known true familial happiness before it was brutally taken away from him. He'd once told Naruto that she would never understand his suffering because she hadn't ever experienced that love. Sasuke still doesn't think he's wrong, but realizes it was…ignorant of him. They'd both had lonely childhoods.

He shook his head at his stupid sentimentality. The "Hero from the Leaf" had turned out just fine in their reality. For all he knew, this was a manipulative part of the illusion of whatever nefarious plan Madara and Obito had concocted.

"So Sasuke, Naruto," Minato asked, passing him some onigiri. "Did you finally hash out the remaining details of the ceremony?"

Sasuke felt uncharacteristically baffled, genuinely not knowing how to respond and his mind inconveniently drawing a blank. He looked to Naruto, needing some clue on how to react so it didn't become obvious that he was an imposter. But Naruto looked unbothered. No—she looked annoyed as she pulled a knee against her chest, stabbing her food irritably with her chopsticks.

"Not yet. I mean…there's so many small details and only a few hours. It's not like we can do everything from both traditions."

"What about the dresses?" Kushina asked, soft voice tinged with a razer edge.

Naruto sighed grumpily, scratching her cheek. "I haven't had time to go back to the seamstress to approve the final changes."

"…No time? Naruto, you've got to be kidding me—"

"—Kaa-chan, I've been on rotation for the past week after just coming back from that stint in Kumo—"

"—Your wedding is two weeks away and you still don't have your dresses made?!"

At first he thought—yeah, Naruto would be that idiot who leaves such an incredibly important detail to the last minute—until horrific realization slapped him in the face. There was no way that their "relationship" could be this serious in a fucking illusion. Sasuke felt his stomach drop and wondered how much stress he could digest before truly vomiting? The rest of brunch passed in a blur of Naruto defending her apparent laziness, Minato taking the blame for his daughter's heavy mission schedule, and simultaneously attempting to calm his hot-headed wife down by assuring her that Naruto would have no more missions until the next month. He, on the other hand, had forced himself to eat the rest of his breakfast instead of jumping out the window.

In typical Naruto fashion, the blonde kunoichi continued to rage about what had happened well into the day. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stomped angrily through the streets, ranting at the top of her lungs.

"I am not totally irresponsible! I only went off rotation on Thursday and I took over for Asuma-sensei this coming Friday because nobody took his shift. It's not Kurenai's fault that their baby is due!"

Ignoring the implication of Asuma and Kurenai hooking up, his mind continued to catalogue as much evidence as possible and unravel how this illusion functioned. He had no idea how Naruto's parents could vividly appear in his dream when he had never met them. If Naruto was also under the influence of the genjutsu, as opposed to being a part of it, that made it even worse. Naruto had never met her parents—besides her father as a reanimated corpse.

Largely ignoring what Naruto was saying, other than shushing her loud ass as everyone around them was paying eager attention to the Hokage's daughter, Sasuke took the time to actually look at her. Despite the minor changes in her behaviour, Naruto was definitely the same loud, obnoxious idiot. Her happiness seemed more genuine, but he supposed that was natural in an illusion. Although he thinks it's suspicious that her weird, verbal tick of adding dattebayou at the end of every sentence is minimal, he thinks it's safe to conclude that she wasn't a product of Madara and Obito. Which didn't do much to ease his anxiety. Every genjutsu can be manipulated by the castor. He just hasn't figured out the degree of manipulation in this one.

Engaged to Naruto.

What a fucking joke.

Naruto suddenly nudge him with her hip. "Oi, you still hungover?"

When he didn't respond immediately, Naruto took a step-in front of him and forced him to stop walking. She leaned into his face, their noses almost touching, and he sneered at the realization that Naruto wasn't the shortest of their class anymore. She was irritatingly tall and, on her tiptoes,, she could literally see him eye-to-eye.

"Get out of my face, loser." He spat, not in the mood to play one of their childish games to see which one of them would back down first. He expected her to get mad or start teasing him. Instead, Naruto's eyes flooded with suspicion, her brow bunched more in concern than irritation. He tsked angrily to himself, turning his head away. He shouldn't have allowed his emotions to get the better of him. Not in this alien space. Signing in frustration, Sasuke ran a hand through his hair, causing Naruto to take a step back, continuing her silent observation. He doesn't…he's never been skilled at showcasing his feelings.

He's always been cold. Anger and hatred were easier to harness than happiness, and as a shinobi, he was never encouraged or taught to open up. Emotions were considered problematic; something meant to be repressed. He never comforted people or sought comfort for his own problems. Even when they were genin, he'd jolt Naruto out of her kaleidoscope of moods by taunting her and forcing her to stand up on her own feet. He doesn't know how he can pretend to be so openly affectionate with some who, for so long and much of his life, he naught but annoyance, impatience, and even disdain for.

Calloused fingers broke him from his thoughts when they hesitantly stroked his arm. He became rigid at the contact as Naruto's continued to stroke his pale skin. He dared to look up at Naruto, only to find that she was staring back at him intensely. It's the same way she looked at him whenever they fought, when he had seen her for the first time in three years at Orochimaru's and whenever they were on opposite ends of a fight. Her eyes were like crashing waves. He was always wary of being caught in the undertow. Recklessly challenging each other had always been a mutually bad habit.

Juvenile—but he and Naruto had done nothing normally.

Her fingers trailed down slowly until she reached the palm of his hand, lacing their fingers together. It felt more like a dare than an intimate gesture. His brows furrowed, but he refused to let himself back down. He squeezed her hand in response, and she grinned at him. It's the same wicked and wild way look she has when she's winning a battle. He's the first to look away, refusing to acknowledge the other, more intimate emotions washing through her eyes. When her eyes finally trail away from him, the spell remains, and their hands stay locked together. They walk back to their apartment, red light from the moon above guiding the way.

Despite the silence, Naruto continued to peer suspiciously at him from the corner of her eye.

.

.

.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, the dark-haired Uchiha brooding all the while. His mind was splitting in half as he struggled to blend in the genjutsu's fake reality while simultaneously trying to make sense of it. He still didn't understand the inner workings of the Infinite Tsukuyomi beyond his accumulative knowledge on how standard Uchiha genjutsu's work and knowledge of basic Tsukuyomi from his own lived experience. On top of everything, he was trying to suppress his own, inconveniently erupting emotions in this mess.

Naruto always brought out the worst in him whenever their violent storms forcefully collided. It made him lose control of his carefully constructed aloof persona and loosen his chokehold on the hatred that has fuelled him for years.

The moment they had returned, Naruto had pulled out a thick, tattered notebook, a childish pen covered in frogs, and had encouraged them to go over wedding details together. His general lack of enthusiasm and hostility toward associating anything wedding related had frustrated Naruto to a point where she had stormed into the bathroom, growling under her breath that she needed a shower or she would strangle him, and slammed the door shut.

It was only once Sasuke heard the creak of old pipes and water pelting against the ceramic floor that he allowed himself to exhale. He was extremely tempted to nope the fuck out through the window, go to the training grounds, and release some kantons, but he knew that would only motivate Naruto to come after him. The last thing he needed was for Naruto to chase him down in an illusion. He had enough of that in the real world.

Sasuke glared down at the notebook, willing it to ignite with his gaze alone. Getting married at nineteen wasn't necessarily uncommon or that absurd. Lots of shinobi married young because of how unpredictably dangerous their lives were. If you were part of a renowned clan, securing lineage was especially urgent. Regardless, it didn't make his individual situation any less ridiculous.

Slowly, he reached out and grabbed the notebook, cautiously pulling it towards him. If he was going to survive the next few days before he figured out how to dispel the jutsu, then he'd need to gain more intel on how to pacify the tenacious blonde. Opening it, he…was a little impressed that despite Naruto's chicken scratch that was borderline illegible, it was oddly…organized. There were small, colourful stickies that marked section of the notebook, specific titles highlighted in a very un-Naruto like fashion, and various business cards tapped in securely. He flipped through the thick pages and recognized his own neat, slopping script writing out lists and contacts. He doesn't know why he didn't expect to see his own writing. It's a dissociative experience, and it feels like he's invaded the life of another version of himself.

His hand stilled when he flipped to the page describing the damn dresses that had caused so many problems this morning. There were three dresses on the page, poorly illustrated with lots of eraser marks and scratched out sections. Most of it was his writing, which made little sense at a glance, until he started reading what they had both actually written and his face begins to burn.

The first dress was a simple shiromuku that looked rather plain, considering what was traditional. Underneath, he recognizes Naruto's messy kanji saying:

'NO FLOWERS'

To which he had, apparently, respond: 'Yeah, tell Asuka-san to embroider it with ramen cups, shuriken, and toads.'

'MAYBE I WILL'

'I'm sure your mother will love that. Do you want me to wear orange to your funeral?'

The next dress was an irouchikake and…he knows that they were supposed to represent the groom's clan in order to be "painted by the new family" but he admittingly didn't remember much Uchiha wedding traditions beyond the colour schemes—different from Konoha's tradition of red, black, and gold. From what he could tell, the dress was a shade of grey with red accents—although it looked far more baroque than usual Uchiha clothing. From what he could tell, they'd argued in the margins about the size of the uchiwa, amongst other things including:

'WTF? So excessive?!' - 'Because tradition, dobe.'

'Since when do your plain traditions include such a complicated design?' - 'Too much for you to handle?'

'Of course, you fucking Uchiha incorporate all the colours of fire except ORANGE' - ' Orange is hideous.'

Underneath was a stick figure on fire, with a sad face, labelled "Uchiha Wedding Traditions" - 'Naru…this is pathetic.'

'Only ONE uchiwa' - 'No.'

Underneath Naruto had scrawled a frowning face, to which he had responded with, to his confusion, a smiling face?

'If this one has some many flowers than the shiromuku gets NONE' - 'Deal.'

The final was a hikifurisode that was the most casual of the three. Naruto had done a poor job of drawing instructions for herself on how to tie the obi and had written small notes like: 'blue, waves, ORANGE, and whirlpool', illustrating the small symbol stitched on the back of every jonin vest in Konoha. There were check marks beside each point, except by 'whirlpool' which had a question mark side it and a fat arrow where he deciphered some of Naruto's sloppy kanji as 'Uzumaki tradition…symbol of clan…Kaa-chan explained that it means…'

Following was his response: 'You don't have to ask my permission to include this usuratonkatchi…of course we can incorporate your clan's traditions.' Underneath was a crude drawing of a heart with a frog beside it.

If an outsider were to read these notes, they'd probably be puzzled as to why they were getting married in the first place. He knew better. Bantering was the friendliest form of communication between them. Sasuke was honestly…astonished. As he flipped through a few more pages, he noticed that all the notes were of the same nature. Some, more blatantly flirtatious with crude promises of sexual deviance, that made him squirm uncomfortably, while others were evidently arguments. He doesn't know if proof of their illusionary relationship was so off-putting or was it the realization that the idiot belonged to some kind of clan.

The raven sneered to himself, moodily pushing the notebook away, crossing his arms, and averting his gaze. Sasuke hated to admit it, but there was always a thrill in fighting Naruto—whether it was verbal, physical, or emotional. No one could match or him in strength or came remotely close to being an equal other than Naruto, and what she lacked in brains she made up with monstrous chakra and ferocious resilience. Even as children, their strange relationship revolved around communicating with fists and insults as opposed to any healthy form of contact.

Regardless, planning a wedding was outrageous enough without diving into the mystery box of emotions labelled "usuratonkatchi" that he had carefully repressed since his time in Otogakure.

Staring out the notebook again, noticing the stuff pages, how pages were torn from use…there was no way they had filled, planned, and destroyed a notebook within a couple of weeks or a month. Time was always distorted in a genjutsu, but only to an extent. The notebook represented proper time used to fill, plan, and coordinate. He's already noticed the mass passing of time. Earlier, with his long hair, the maturing of Naruto's face. Instead of a few days, he's worried that this genjutsu has been active for months.

He needs to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible. Gods know how long they've already been stuck in here. The only place he was going to get evidence about an elite, Uchiha powered justu would be…in the Uchiha district.

Sasuke was abruptly broken out of his chain of thought when Naruto opened the door to the bathroom, mouth oozing foam as she waved her toothbrush at him menacingly.

"You better not forget to choose a replacement for next week, you fucking control freak! I'm not doing all the last-minute details alone only for you to bitch at me if I fuck something up!"

He doesn't even have a chance to glare, as the door slams shut again.

Hurricane Naruto flooded him with more information before disappearing again as if she was never there in the first place. He furrowed his brows together and rubbed his temples. He's been a rogue for so long that it hadn't even occurred to him that people their age have different shinobi positions. He thinks it's safe to assume he's in Anbu, given the tattoo on his shoulder, but it never hurt to check. He can only go off assumptions and instinct for so long before he'd slip up at an inopportune time.

He made his way over to their bedroom—eye twitching slightly whenever he thought of it as theirs—and made his way over to the closet in the room. He sighed for the umpteenth time that day when he opened the closet, revealing piles of clothes so horribly organized that it was hard to tell the items a part. He'd noticed that this morning but had been more concerned about finding something passable and convincing Naruto he was fine than investigating.

The clothing that was the most mixed looked like items that belonged to him but were on Naruto's side of the wardrobe—smaller t-shirts and cropped items. There was a stack of manga in the back-left corner, weapon pouches hanging from shirt racks, random kunai and shuriken embedded in the walls. This was definitely Naruto's fault. The only thing that seemed cared for was the sword rack at the top shelf which contained a multitude of blades neatly hung, including his kusanagi, and a few uniforms hung on the right-hand side.

He pushed half of the clothing haphazardly towards the left end, frowning that there was one Anbu uniform, that was too small to be his, near the front while the other was farther in the closet and clearly out of use. He eyed the others, recognizing the uniform behind Naruto's Anbu one as what the Leaf Police Lieutenants would wear. Time slowed, and he swallowed thickly, gently grabbing the standard black jacket and rubbed the material with his thumbs, staring somberly at the pristine uniform.

He's assaulted with painful memories of his father, uncles, older cousins, and other Uchiha. Images of his childhood in the district flash through his mind…of his family, and he both desperately longed for home while knowing there was nothing left but bitter feelings and ash.

He didn't know how long he stared at the uniform, shaken out of his stupor when Naruto walked into the room and flopped loudly onto the bed, sighing contentedly. He quickly let go of the uniform, feeling burned by the violent assault of memories, shoving it back into the closet and closing the door. He turned around the see Naruto shirtless again, thankfully laying on her stomach with her arms pillowing her head. Her hair was still in a loose bun and before he forced himself to look away, he's drawn to her upper shoulder which had previously been covered. He's not surprised to see the Anbu tattoo, but he's confused with the arrangement. He'd he been Anbu but left? All in all, it didn't matter. Whatever reality the illusion produced didn't exist.

Sasuke awkwardly stripped down to his boxer briefs, wanting nothing more than to sleep on the couch but knowing that it would raise more questions. He threw his clothing into the laundry basket near the door, thinking to himself—another day Uchiha. Tomorrow is another day—and went to shut the bedroom door. Tama rushed in quickly, meowing accusingly as he jumped onto the bed and curled into a ball by Naruto's leg. Naruto lifted her head sleepily, stretching out her arm to turn the lamp on the nightstand off. Once shrouded in darkness, Sasuke allowed his neutral expression to sour as he stared at the bed.

Shinobi were trained out of personal boundaries at a young age. It was an unaffordable luxury when on missions; you had no choice but to share everything from food, clothing, to personal space. Sasuke had never been squeamish about sharing, even when he had hated Naruto with every fibre of his being. And nothing could beat the time that he and Naruto were forced to share a tent and she had started menstruating in the middle of the night. But there's something about now…knowing the romantic undertones of this fucking illusion, that made him grossly uncomfortable with sharing a bed.

He carefully laid down, wiggling under the covers that Naruto hogged by laying on top of them. He crossed his arms across his chest, keeping his body as far away from hers as possible and willed himself to fall asleep. Predictably, the blonde eventually stirred, shifting until she was under the covers. Instead of staying over on her end, Naruto rolled over, plastering herself against his back. Sasuke froze. Brain seizing and calculating on how—the fuck do I get out of this—when he realized that she was sleeping. Sasuke's heart pounded loudly against his chest and his illogical emotions stirred again as her arms tightening around him.

He didn't have time to deconstruct this. Logically, he's young and allowed to have stirring desire. He's acted upon those desires before, but it's never been as important as the next mission. His next revenge. His next goal. But as Naruto cuddled into him annoyingly, he couldn't help but feel as if this were an out-of-body experience.

He wondered how you could fall asleep soundly when you were living in a dream.

.

.

.

…Scorching blood stained his clothing and dribbled across skin, carving valleys and filling them in its wake. He stared into the maniacal eyes of crazed ancestor and his chest burns painfully as his heart struggled to beat alongside the cool, metal sword. He coughed painfully, still suspended in disbelief that this is the end. He's hoisted into the air by the hilt of his sword; dangling feebly as the sword slid deeper into his flesh. Madara is speaking to him but he can't make sense of the words. Everything started going black, but this can't be the end. He can't die right now when—

Wake up.

Sasuke woke up with a withered exhale. He immediately sat up, burying his sweaty face in his hands. You're in Konoha, within a genjutsu. It's morning—he thinks to himself. The nightmare was just like the last one…some parts of it felt real. Had he been killed? Was this illusion purgatory? Get a hold of yourself Uchiha—he berated. There was no mistaking that they were stuck in the Infinite Tsukuyomi. The problem was fully deciphering the events leading up to its casting and he was working against a time bomb without knowing that that bomb was.

He lifted his head to peer at the analogue clock on Naruto's side of the bed, murky orange light making the violent red number seem slightly dimmed. It was six in the morning. Grateful that Naruto had rolled over during the night, he swung his legs to the side of the bed and stared at the closet. He remembered that his father would start work every morning at seven thirty in the morning and he best keep to that time—assuming that was his job. He decided to take things slow. Naruto was a heavy sleeper as he remembered and didn't stir much when he rummaged through the closet and went to take a long shower. His hair was still damp when he made himself coffee and toast, fed Tama as he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation. Facing the Uchiha District would be…difficult.

It's meant to manipulate your emotions—Sasuke thought to himself—the whole point of a genjutsu is to twist reality in a way that will bring out your opponent's weakness.

It was no secret that the loss of his family…of his brother, represented the totality of Sasuke's chronic trauma, and all that stemmed from it. If he could prove that this wouldn't shake his resolve, then Madara would have to find something else to taunt him with—if that was how the Tsukuyomi even functioned. He drank more of his coffee, strategizing and analyzing more in order to gain control of the situation, when there was a sudden, insistent beeping erupting from the bedroom. An annoyed whine followed it with a loud bang! Before the insistent beeping gave a shrivelled cry and faded. It's silent for an awkward moment…before Naruto belted out at the top of her lungs.

"SHIIIIIIIT!"

More banging followed with rummaging occurred before Naruto burst out of the room, freaking out as she belted, "I'm sooooo late! Ino and Sakura are gonna kill me!"

Her hair was messily tied into a bun on the top of her head. She wore high-waisted black capris with two orange stripes down the side along with a tight, white cropped t-shirt that showed off her toned midriff. She ran toward him, stealing his toast and pressed a quick peck to his cheek. Sasuke's nose wrinkled at the contact, staring at her with a raised eyebrow as the piece of toast hung from her mouth and she scrambled towards the window, vaulting out of it. He didn't even have a chance to take another sip of coffee when she sheepishly crawled back in.

"Sasuke, are we having dinner at your parents place tonight?"

He stared back at her with an equally shocked expression. "Are we?"

"Fuck my life! Ask Itachi so we don't get murdered later!"

His heart skipped a beat at the mention of his brother.

He took the time to put on his uniform, slowly slipping on the armband notifying his rank and sliding the jonin-like, black jacket on. The final piece was the Konoha hitai-ate, which made him feel brittle under its unfamiliar, heavy weight. He walked into the washroom and stared at himself in the mirror. It was as if looking at a mirage of something that hasn't and never will exist. It was…strange. As a child, he used to dream that as an adult he would become an officer alongside his father and clansmen. His childhood dream had manifested despite being long forgotten.

As Sasuke walked through the village, he was mildly surprised with the kind expressions and occasional helloes he received from people he didn't even recognize. It was a stark contrast to the oppressive gazes that used to drill into the back of his skull with whispers of awe, admiration, and fear. When he reached the Uchiha district, he expected it to look like it had in his childhood.

He hadn't expected it to look…honestly great. The cold, grey walls and towers were inviting and Konoha's prison was no longer located beside it which had previously given it an ominous presence—he would need to add that to his growing case file. The district looked up-kept and modern. Teyaki and Uruchi-sans shop was overflowing with goods and they greeted him cheerfully, as did other Uchiha. It was only once he swallowed the lump in his throat and kept repeating to himself—it's just an illusion that his anxiety subsided. All the Uchiha, besides himself, were dead. Except Obito—his mind conveniently reminded him. Until he recovered his shrouded memories of the war, he wasn't able to confidently say whether Obito was a part of the genjutsu or pulling the strings from above the water.

His mood soured as he picked apart his muddled mind, walking toward the police station with a stabilizing breath thinking—it's now or never. The station looked…different than it had in his childhood. The walls didn't seem as dark and intimidating as it had with frustrated Uchiha. He was unnerved by people greeting him cheerfully as "Uchiha-san" or "Uchiha-sama" and he recognized some faces of Uchiha children he had played with—Taiko, Yakumi, and Hakuna—as well as older officers—Yoshiro, Tekka, Inabi, and Kagami. It's surreal to see them alive and grown up when he vividly remembered seeing some of their slaughtered bodies.

"Sasuke!"

He whipped around to see Shisui. He didn't have a chance to conceal his shock when Shisui raised both his eyebrows.

"Wow, what's gotten into you mister too-cool-for-everyone?"

He immediately snorted in response, trying to recompose himself, but realized it wouldn't work at this point. He sighed irritably and rubbed the bridge between his brows. "I've been…stressed."

It's a weak excuse, but passable and believable. Shisui clapped his back and smiled crookedly. "Planning a wedding will do that to you. Especially since you're marrying the Hokage's daughter."

"I guess you could say I have a lot on my mind," he shrugged, aloof again as he tucked his hands into his pant pockets. "What's the agenda for today?"

"If you're already forgetting your own agenda, then you're much more stressed than you're letting on tough guy."

He didn't have a chance to respond when someone from behind him called out, "Ohayo Fugaku-sama!"

Every nerve in his body froze as a voice he never thought he'd hear again reverberated against his back.

"Good morning, Sasuke," his late father's voice rumbled. He turned around slowly, the pit of anxiety building up in his stomach again. "Ohayou, Tou-san."

His father looked different. Less exhausted and angry than he remembered, although he still had bags under his eyes. He's not necessarily smiling, but he recognized the fact that his notoriously stoic father was content. He no longer looms above Sasuke, tall and proud with his arms eternally crossed across his chest. In fact, Sasuke is taller than him and still feels incredibly small and insignificant in his presence. His father walked past him, and he followed him warily.

"Close the door, son," Fugaku waved, sitting behind his desk as Sasuke leaned against the wall moodily. His father paid no mind, flipping through a report as he spoke to him.

"Before we discuss your latest assignments, have you spoken to Yoshiro about which days you need off?"

"Not yet," he responded honestly.

Fugaku stopped flipping through the report to look up at him with a deadpan expression.

"Sasuke…your wedding is in two weeks. Your mother will be furious when she finds out. You best sort this out before dinner tonight."

"Father," he growled slightly, surprised at his father's response.

"Right, right. This wedding has everyone under pressure," he flashed a small smile, composing himself afterward as he continued to scan through the report.

Gods, he didn't even want to think about this audacity of him and Naruto being married and their dead families being excited about it in an extremely dangerous, and powerful genjutsu.

The rest of the day was interesting. He's used to gathering information in miniscule details and connected the dots between lines that may seem obscure at first. Sasuke was able to work out that within the Uchiha Police, he doesn't do simple patrolling so much as investigative work for homicide and other high-profile issues. However, his father had been lightening his load before the wedding.

However, he's surprised that he worked in a "homicide" unit in a world that should be seemingly without hate. How much of that is true was yet to be revealed. More so, after a long day of boring walking around Konoha, he's keen to do some real digging. During patrol, he noticed that in the middle of the Uchiha district, there was a massive statue of Madara that had caused his eyes to narrow and his blood to boil. He thinks back to the history of Konoha that the Nidaime had shared by the details are fuzzy. It's what lead him to the Naka Shrine. It surprised him yesterday, when he had stared at himself in the mirror feeling as if something was missing from his eyes, but the last time he had read the tablet in the Naka shrine he had only had a regular sharingan.

His assumption had been correct, and the tablet revealed more to him with his eternal mangeykou.

When someone who possesses the power of Saṃsāra approaches the moon, an eye will open that is reflected on the moon to grant the eternal dream.

As he walked back towards his and Naruto's apartment, he continued to meld over the contents. The passage he could decipher was obviously connected to the Infinite Tsukuyomi—referred to as the "eternal dream". But he was unfamiliar with what Samsara was or what it represented. He needed to think carefully about where he could find this information and who was safe to ask.

When he entered their apartment, he found Naruto already there, asleep in the kitchen with her head resting on top of the dining room table with Tama valiantly sleeping beside her. Said cat cracked open an eye, and when Tama noticed Sasuke, he chirped happily, jumping from the table to rub at his leg. He stroked Tama's spine, who arched in pleasure, before making his way towards Naruto. On closer inspection, she was sleeping on top of what looked like the seating arrangement for the wedding.

He shook her shoulder, "hey usuratonkatchi, wake up."

"Huh?" she grunted, waking up groggily, hair loosened and sticking out in an array of directions. "Shit, you're back from work already?"

"Hn, you better get ready soon since we're having dinner at my parents."

"Right!"

Naruto bolted upright, fixing her hair and running into the washroom. After a few moments she was already out, her hair in a well sculpted ponytail, spiking slight at the end, with shorter bangs framing her face. She switched out her cropped t-shirt for a long-sleeved black turtleneck. Naruto—as far as he's always assumed—has never cared about her appearance or what people thought of her. He's reluctant to admit that he's always appreciated her unruliness and the inherent wildness of her personality, unlike the other girls in their cohort. Her strength was always more attractive to him than her looks. That puberty had treated her generously was only an added bonus for the more primitive parts of his mind.

He wondered what part of his dream is making her behave so differently when he's never put much thought into what Naruto "should" look like. He's never cared. Unless this wasn't just his mass hallucination. Was there a chance that their dreams were mixed?

Unlike the lethargic pace on Sunday, the two of them raced over Konoha's rooftops and streets until they reached the Uchiha district.

"I never understood your Uchiha needs for walls," Naruto suddenly spoke, looking up as they walk through the main gate.

"What do you mean?" he asked, tone sharp. "The Hyuuga also have walls around their district."

"Not around the entire district, just around the main branch mansion," she replied. "But you have such massive walls. I mean, who are you trying to keep out?"

"Hn, idiots. Like you."

"Wow. You're a real laugh riot, Sasuke."

As they approach his home, he felt his body felt like lead. He didn't want to enter a place where he had last seen bloody walls, saturated with the stench of his parents' decay. It had taken years to repress traumatic memories and he wasn't eager to have an illusion viciously rip into the most intimate places of his mind to weed out information that would weaken him.

This wasn't going to be a pleasant experience.

From the outside, the home is an exact replica of what it used to be. The enormous courtyard was clean and organized with training targets and uchiwa's decorating the walls. The dark, solid oak of his home was adorned with spacious windows and trimmed cedar trees adding pops of colour amongst the monochromatic, stone walls. When they entered, he couldn't help but flinch at the cleanliness and the way it glowed with life, warm light filtering through the windows as opposed to the dull, cold grey that remained after their death. He could hear his mother's melodic voice chastising his father as she rounded the corner. Nothing could have prepared him for seeing his mother again. She looked exactly like he remembered. Ebony-black hair that faintly glowed blue, porcelain skin with hints of colour dusting her rosy cheeks and large, almond-shaped eyes a warm brown as opposed to his father's dark irises. She greeted Naruto enthusiastically with a warm embrace, asking about Kushina-san and complaining that they missed their weekly tea-time.

When she finally turned her attention toward Sasuke, he immediately collapsed into his mother's embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of jasmine that always lingered in her hair. She was so much smaller than him, fitting just under his chin. He was worried if he squeezed too tight, he'd break her in half and tries to shake himself out of thinking of her as so fragile. He always remembered her as a talented jonin, a loyal and dedicated Uchiha, and a compassionate mother. If he held onto her a little too tightly, Mikoto showed no mind, stroking his hair and hugging him back warmly. When he reluctantly pulled away, Mikoto smiled brightly and cupped his cheek.

"What did I do to deserve such an enthusiastic greeting from my youngest son?"

"Nothing, Kaa-chan," he forced the shaking emotion out of his voice. "I just—" He didn't think he would ever have the chance to embrace his mother again. His mother stared at him knowingly, stroking his cheek before pulling away, moving toward Naruto's voice.

He's surprised to see his father of all people hugging Naruto and chatting with her in front of the dining room that was already overflowing with all his favourite things and comfort items that reminded him of simpler, innocent times.

"Ohayo, Sasuke, Naruto-chan," another voice rang out. One that he knew would appear in this illusion but was hoping to avoid until he had a better handle on the situation and could contain the inevitable emotional vulnerability. When he turned around, he wasn't surprised to see Itachi in his prime; a smidge taller than he was with dark bags underneath his eyes he's starting to think are hereditary. His brother stared right at him, eyes playful, as he spoke to Naruto "it's good to see you outside of work for once, Naruto-chan."

Itachi's lips turned into a teasing smirk as he continued, "I think I see you more than Sasuke, perhaps we should be the ones getting married."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed at his brother's dry sense of humour, ignoring his mother chastising him gently for making such a comment, despite the fact that it had made Naruto guffaw in laughter. He didn't understand why the fuck Naruto and Itachi would be Anbu partners in an illusion.

Much like the brunch situation with Naruto's parents, Sasuke is astonished to see how close his family is with Naruto's and to see them interacting so…naturally when she never even knew them. More so, he didn't understand why, in a hallucination, were Naruto and Itachi of all people Anbu partners and he convinced himself he wasn't jealous. Naruto didn't even fucking know his family. What right did she have interacting with them as if they've known each other for years? Unable to handle the steady build-up of rage, Sasuke excused himself from dinner, avoiding Naruto's concerned expression since he wasn't entirely sure he could restrain himself from punching her in the face.

Ignoring his father's grunt of disappointment and his mother's hush whispering under her breath, Sasuke's leg seemed to have a mind of their own, dragging him toward his old bedroom. He forced himself to inhale deeply and exhale through his lips, unclenching the fist he had unconsciously made. Getting worked up in a stupid illusion would lead to nothing other than unnecessary panic and disarray. He didn't need to understand why specific relationships were happening or why his dead brother and the loser were intimately working together. He'd punch Naruto in the face for it later—in the real world.

Sasuke was broken out of his frustration when someone knocked on his door. He whipped around to see Itachi staring at him with his infamous passivity.

"Is it alright if I come in?"

He snorted, crossing his arms moodily across his chest. He loved his brother and seeing him alive, potentially to manipulate his emotions, infuriated him.

"Guess so."

Itachi walked over to his old desk, staring at the array of photographs that hung above it. If his memory was correct, he never had photographs in his childhood bedroom. Later, when he had been living alone, the only photograph that he had was the one of Team 7.

"You know, I meant no harm with the marriage joke," Itachi mused, continuing to look at the photographs. "You're too hot-headed, little brother. Sometimes more so than Naruto-chan."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes as he walked over to Itachi, curious to see what the photographs contained. The brothers stood side by side in silence, Sasuke himself analyzing the contents of the multiple photos. There was the original photo of Team 7 and the last family photo they took before the massacre. As if history had re-written itself, others included himself, Naruto, and Sakura receiving their chunin vests; Sakura and him passing the jonin exam with Naruto slumping angrily in the background in a chunin vest; and one of himself and Naruto in Anbu uniforms, while Sakura was in nursing scrubs. There were other, more casual photos of Team 7 with Kakashi, a few more of his family, and a few more of…himself and Naruto. He's never been a fan of photographs. He doesn't understand what their purpose is, or why they would manifest in his delusion.

"I'm not hot-headed," he suddenly replied, turning his head to look at Itachi.

His dead brother raised an eyebrow, face breaking into a mirthful smirk.

"You're right. 'Jealous' or 'possessive' are better words. Especially with Naruto."

"Bullshit," he scoffed, turning his attention back to the photos. "I am not 'jealous' of Naruto." And there was nothing to be possessive of when he didn't care about whether she lived or died. The only thing that mattered was that when she would die, it would be by his hand.

"You are marrying her of your own will, that's a pretty possessive statement."

"Hn."

"Besides," Itachi continued. "I always knew she would be the one to save you."

Sasuke immediately furrowed his brows and looked at Itachi quizzically. There was something odd and out of place about the statement. Something that sounded otherworldly and immediately put his senses on high.

"What do you mean?"

Itachi seemed to stare right through him, body no longer natural as he spoke in a definitive tone.

"The darkness that you drown yourself in, little brother."

.

.

.

The Nindaime-hokage stares at Sasuke with calculating, dead, eyes. Eerily red irises reminding him of how Itachi would pick apart every one of his emotions and actions with the flicker of his pinwheel sharingan.

"This is the cursed fate of the Uchiha. To think they were led to annihilation…" he trailed off angrily, his eyes never leaving Sasuke's as he gave continued his brutal, verbal strike on the Uchiha.

"The Uchiha are a clan haunted by evil and yet, they are able to feel love unlike any other. But that excessively strong love is capable of flying out of control."

He narrowed his eyes at Sasuke, arms rigid and stance as strong as it was before with his monstrous chakra acting as an invisible barrier. He was daring Sasuke to make his next move and prove him right—that his Mangeykou was a curse of uncontrollable hatred bred out of violent love.

Wake up.

Sasuke jolted awake, eyes adjusting to the darkness of their bedroom as he tried to control his breathing. He sighed angrily, grumpily extracting himself from Naruto's choke hold. The uncanniness of these dreams was becoming less worrisome, and more irritating. To think the Nindaime-hokage thought the Uchiha were obsessive with their love…

He didn't even want to begin dissecting that concept without getting more evidence from the Uchiha themselves and understanding what his own clan said about the matter—not some dead Senju who oppressed them. Considering who was sleeping beside him, he didn't even want to entertain the thought that hatred was born out of love.

Blearily, he pushed himself up to rest on his elbows, staring at the hazy, red numbers on their new analogue clock. Four thirty in the morning wasn't a terrible time to slip into the Naka shrine and do some poking. As soon as he started sliding out from other the covers, Naruto began mumbling in her sleep. He glanced over his shoulder quickly, hoping it was just her usual sleep garble, but instead, she looked…disturbed.

Her face was pinched in a painful grimace, hands clenched beside her head, as she slurred, "No…not like this…can't die yet—"

Suddenly Naruto jerked into consciousness, gasping, her dazed gaze finding his immediately.

"Sasuke," she exhaled his name like a prayer, relief flooding her voice. "What time is it?"

"Go to sleep, Naruto," he responded. Naruto looked at him confused, still half lucid as she reeled into reality sluggishly and started to push herself up.

"We were fighting and I—"

"—Dobe," he interrupted her panicked concern, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back into the mattress. "It was just a dream. Go back to sleep."

"Just a dream…" she repeated breathlessly, her forehead sweaty as she squirmed under his grip so that her arms were resting above her head.

"What time is it?" she repeated. He loosened his hold on her shoulders and leaned back so he wasn't looming above her.

"Four thirty-ish."

The blonde whispered the time out loud, still reassuring herself that whatever things had plagued her mind were long gone. He didn't have time to stare and watch her small brain struggle to make sense of itself. He moved away slowly, trying to keep Naruto pacified only to have her desperately grab his forearm, blunt nails digging into his skin.

"Where are you going," she demanded, her brows furrowed together, blue eyes shinning with determination. He hated that look. It meant she wouldn't let this go easily.

Grinding his teeth together, Sasuke forced himself to swallow and lean back into her presence. He couldn't risk having Naruto follow him and she was already suspicious of him as of late. He needed to calm her down and reassure her that there was nothing to worry about. Before his racing mind could catch up to his body, he impulsively leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"I have to go the station early. Tie up some loose ends before I'm away."

"Alright," she relented, easily accepting his smooth lie.

Not wanting to question his apparent good luck, he stood up quickly, moving toward the closet and grabbing his uniform. He knew that he should get dressed quickly and leave before dawn breaks and the inhabitants of Konoha—and the Uchiha district—began to wake up.

The raven's feet quietly padded into the kitchen. In the same subconscious motions he had been experiencing all week, he filled Tama's bowl with fresh food, petting the purring cat as he twirled around him gratefully. Too anxious to eat, Sasuke made his way to the door, about to pull on his shoes, and stopped. He stood there for a moment, fighting with the guilty sensation tugging at him from the pit of his gut. Gods, he hated emotions.

Cursing under his breath, Sasuke made his way back into the kitchen and filled a glass with water. He returned to their bedroom where Naruto sat in the bed, head buried in her hands and elbows resting on her knees. The sheets were pooled by her waist, exposing her bare back. He laid a stiff hand on her shoulder to get the disturbed blonde's attention. Naruto looked up, her usually bright eyes murky and exhausted. She accepted the glass, throwing her head back and chugging it in a few quick gulps. She set the glass down on the nightstand, face twisted into a grimace, haunted eyes avoiding his gaze.

He sat down next to her and stared at her whisker-less cheeks. He didn't know why he had the urge to break the dead look from her eyes and make Naruto look at him, like she had been all week. It felt…strange for her to be avoiding him when all she ever did was seek his attention. Sasuke elbowed her gently and Naruto immediately whipped around to stare at him accusingly. Before she could snap something at him, he chastised her gently.

"Stop over-thinking things. Your brain might blow up from such high levels of strain."

Like a switch, she blinked, and the look in her eyes disappeared. She harrumphed loudly and flopped back down onto her bed, arms resting beside her head.

"You have the best bedside manners, teme. Your fangirls don't know what they've missing out on."

A small smirk tugged onto his face, uncharacteristic guilt instantly melting away. Sasuke turned around, the urgency of getting the Naka shrine settling in again. Before he could stand, Naruto caught again, forcing him to still. He turned around slowly, straining to erase his growing irritation. When his eyes finally rested on her again, he inhaled sharply.

She looked lovely in the moonlight, cascading blonde hair tinted peach and her lips a dusty rose from the moon's misty, crimson glow. Its shimmering light softened everything, except her piercing blue eyes—as rebellious and electric as they've always been. Her piercing stare was hypnotic, and he couldn't look away. Naruto, who's grip remained on his arm, pulled the raven down, other hand raising to cup his face and she gave him a slow, open-mouthed kiss. He froze under her touch, but she didn't seem to notice, pressing their foreheads together and tucking Sasuke's long bangs behind his ears. His face burned the more he inhaled her intoxicated scent—musky, like fresh rain. This couldn't happen. Not like this. He…he needed to get himself under some fucking control and—

"—can we go to Ichiraku for lunch today? During our break?"

Her voice was small. Obscenely gentle and so unlike Naruto that it startled him.

"Okay," he responded quickly, anything to keep this strange illusion pacified so he could get out of her hold as quickly as possible. Naruto smiled sleepily, pressing another quick kiss against his rigid lips before letting go, rolling over onto her stomach, and settling herself back to sleep.

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.

.

Sasuke angrily stalked the streets of Konoha, hands shoved deep into his pockets and his grim scowl keeping everyone at length—except for Taiko and Hakuna, who had, unfortunately, drawn the short straw in going on patrol with him in a foul mood. Luckily, they'd taken the hint and let him brood silently.

His more intensive investigation of the Naka Shrine hadn't revealed even a hint of what Samsara could be or what it was. Instead, he had found ancient scrolls filled with the mythology of the old Uchiha deities that had stopped being revered long ago. Some residuals remained in their wedding customs and other traditions, but no one really worshipped the deities actively. He hadn't even known their names. The only text that had mentioned Tsukuyomi, was an old story about Amaterasu and her brother, also husband, Tsukuyomi. The two had ruled the skies as the "sun" and "moon" until an incident involving Tsukuyomi killing another god, lead to Amaterasu labelling her husband as "evil". Essentially divorcing him, the break in their union had led to the creation of "night" and "day".

From the story it had been clear to him that the Uchiha named their major abilities after the Uchiha deities…but what that had to do with an infinite casting and Samsara was unclear.

Sasuke knew that technically, he could speak to the Uchiha elders, but considering he was still trying to disseminate what was real and an illusion, he couldn't really trust anything anyone said to him. Especially if Madara or Obito could influence the jutsu in some way.

He was broken out of thought when a familiar, monstrous, chakra spiked angrily from a few feet away. He didn't even have a chance to roll his eyes when a fully armed Anbu jumped in front of them. They straightened slowly, moves meant to be intimidating. Even with the toad mask, it was obvious who it was with the tight, blonde braid and Taiko whispering teasingly, "It's the wife."

Sasuke ignored Taiko and Yakumi's snickers behind him, raising an eyebrow at this blatant case of Naruto metaphorically waving her dick in their faces.

"You didn't fucking show," a gruff voice echoed from behind the mask.

He kept his hands shoved in his pocket, sounding bored when he responded, "So?"

"So?" Naruto snarled, pushing the mask up to reveal her furious expression. "You fucking promised me!"

"And you, were delirious. Get over it, dobe."

Naruto bristled angrily, stalking right up to him until they were nose to nose and growling in his face. "I'm getting real tired of your shitty attitude, Sasuke. The world doesn't fucking revolve around you and your mood swings."

Mood swings? Sasuke thought furiously too himself. Gods she really was asking for it.

"Nor does it revolve around your pathetically, needy ass. We're in public, Naruto. Get a fucking grip."

"You are such a fucking asshole," Naruto hissed through her teeth. She then whipped around, her braid cracking in a snap after her as she stomped away angrily, before flickering out of sight. Sasuke fiercely stared at the spot where she had been, fists clenching when a low whistle echoed from behind him.

He turned around slowly to give Taiko his most menacing glare but unfortunately, he was far too stunned to be additionally accosted by his ire.

"Man," he spoke, "looks like you've met your match, huh Sasuke?"

Sasuke felt his chakra crackle in agitation and he inhaled deeply, trying to repress it.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Taiko," he growled, looking over his shoulder while flashing his sharingan. "You aren't paid to gossip."

He'd deal with Naruto and her tantrums later.

.

.

.

At the end of his incredibly boring shift, Sasuke reluctantly made it back to their apartment. Without a doubt, Naruto would be waiting for him and he knew that the longer he avoided her, the more it would motivate the tenacious blonde into stalking him down. His father had also informed him that today was his official last day of work before his vacation period, meaning that it wouldn't be so easy to avoid her during the day. Furthermore…he felt…guilt, as ludicrous as it sounded, for forgetting a stupid lunch date to comfort her stupid emotions.

Guilt wasn't an emotion that Sasuke handled well.

The tall raven stilled when he reached their door. He couldn't feel Naruto's chakra signature, but he didn't need the sharingan to prove that she was standing behind the door. He was being such a bitch, he berated himself as his hand hovered against the doorknob. He didn't have any reason to feel guilt, he rationalized to himself. How do you feel guilty for something that doesn't exist?

And besides, it was just Naruto.

The moment he opened the door, Naruto's voice rang out: "What are you hiding from me?"

He looked over at Naruto calmly. She was slumped against the wall opposite of the door, face half obscured in shadows with the lights turned off; the only source of illumination being the orange glow of dusk spilling through the windows. Her voice was gentle, so uncharacteristic of its usual rasp. She was still in her Anbu uniform, arms crossed over her chest angrily.

"I'm not hiding anything," he defended. "I just—"

"—You're not that good of a liar." she continued, fingers drumming against her arm in an irritated twitch. "I know you, Sasuke."

Do you?—He resisted the urge to ask, biting his tongue instead. Despite Naruto claiming to understand him, raving that they were still friends, the reality was that they haven't actually had a real, human, interaction in years. Yes, at one point she had been his best friend, but there was nothing but a few single threads of connection left between them until he finally severed them off into nothing. Yet he couldn't ignore her…devotion of wanting to "save" him, regardless of how deluded it was.

"So, for once," she continued, taking a step forward, eyes raging like a storm as her never ending resolve bubbled to the surface. "Stop bottling up that shit and talk to me. Maybe then I could actually help you!"

"Help me?" he asked incredulously, scoffing condescendingly. Even in a damn dream she couldn't stop, his carefully controlled facade finally cracking with rage.

"Naruto, for once keep your nose out of my fucking business," he seethed.

"I case you haven't noticed, bastard, we're getting married. Your business is my business."

Sasuke sneered in response, chakra pooling at the back of his eyes the more emotional he became. Kami, if he wasn't stuck in a fucking illusion who would have broken her face seven different ways. It was taking ever once of self control to not blurt out that none of this was real and she was just a fiction of his imagination—an annoyingly accurate one at that.

He needed to dissolve this illusion before he lost his own damn mind in it.

Naruto uncrossed her arms and placed one against the closed door, caging him in as she leaned into his personal space. He met her frown with his own fierce glare. Despite her electric blue eyes glowing with ire, he was surprised at her own self-control.

"Don't you remember?" her voice trying to be obscenely soft, even though her natural rasp had returned. "You and I, we're a team. At the end of the day, it's always been just you and I against the world."

He swallowed thickly, his petulance unravelling. Since when did Naruto become so damn perceptive? Even though Naruto's words were capable of sending him into an incontrollable rage, he couldn't deny their truth…and ever since he had broken out of the Tsukuyomi he has been struggling to harness the same hate that has fuelled him for years and compartmentalize his emotions. Even on his darkest days, when his revenge had been the only thing pushing him forward, he could never deny the pull that inevitably had them gravitating back to each other. In a way, it had always been just about the two of them.

It just used to be easier to ignore.

Especially in an illusion where his brother, family, and clan were alive. The Uchiha weren't marginalized, and the world was seemingly without hate. He couldn't ignore his abhorrence of the current ninja system and Kage in place… but whether their crimes were erased was yet to be determined. After all, the Yondaime was currently in power despite the fact that his daughter was, oddly enough, the Kyuubi jinchuuriki. Ignoring his political desires, everything he had ever wanted was younger was here—including Naruto.

Naruto's grin was full of teeth, as she dared him to make his next move. He allowed himself to smirk coldly.

"Us against the world? Why am I not surprised that you would use a gross cliché to describe your affection?"

"I'm not wrong though—" she murmured, arms sliding down from the door to drape itself his shoulders. She held him for a few heartbeats before drawing him in so they were breathing the same air; lips close enough to touch.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

He felt intoxicated from the proximity and grabbed onto her shoulder to prevent any more distance between them close and tried to ground himself in a situation where he was rapidly losing control. He noted that he missed the scarred whiskers on her cheeks as his hand absently raised to cup her cheek, thumb cautiously stroking the smooth skin. It was softer than he'd imagined it would be, for such a rough personality like Naruto. Sasuke's obsidian eyes locked with her azure blue. He knew that the longer he stared into them, the faster he would lose himself in the layers of blue radiating around her pupil like a whirlpool. Perhaps—just this once—he'd allow her to have a semi-win.

"You're not."

Her patience gave out, and she closed the gap between them. Her lips are slightly chapped, moving coarsely against his in a lazy, open-mouthed kiss. Their storms oscillated on different plains, dangerous in their own right, and when they brushed together, they either combined to make each other stronger, or were cataclysmic. This is the first time in years, Sasuke would admit to himself, that he willingly allowed for them to finally collide into one another. He felt struck by lightening; each nerve buzzing with this new sensation and before he could even enjoy it, Naruto pulled away—holding onto him firmly and staring at him through half-lidded eyes.

In the back of his mind, he knew that once he admittingly crossed this boundary, it would obliterate the remaining chains of his willpower.

He dipped back in more ferociously, cupping both her cheeks and pulling her as close to him as humanely possible, feeling the incontrollable need to devour and claim her as his. The drowning sensation he'd always felt when it came to emotions like love or affection felt shockingly clear and it made him feel so, so dizzy. For the first time, it felt like he was gasping—Naruto being the first hit of air after his lungs have been filled with water for so long. There was no grace in their movements; no skill or technique as they desperately clung to one another. Naruto moaned against his lips in appreciation, hand snaking down his back and digging into his backside, pressing their hips together. He didn't want to think about anything right now other than how right this felt. If this was his dream, then he would do whatever the fuck he wanted in it before he dissolved it. He had ever right to indulge in this side of his most secret fantasies since it was impossible in their war torn, broken reality.

.

.

.

In the evening they ended up at Shushu-ya with the rest of the Konoha no Juichinin—who apparently still considered themselves to be his friends. All twelve of them were seated in a large wooden booth, platters of charcoal roasted meat and vegetables, and a few bottles of sake. Everyone was grossly friendly, except for Kiba, who had been glaring at him since ever since he slid into the seat opposite of him and was squished between Naruto and Shikamaru, but the mutt had never been well behaved.

Regardless, he couldn't help but feel awkward amongst his ex-peers, and he was a surprised that he's able to hold an actual, intellectual conversation with Shikamaru as if he had never left the village. Otherwise, he tried to mask his general lack of enthusiasm with his quintessential indifference, listening to conversations that he knew nothing about and hearing about how lives he didn't care or have changed. Once a few more bottles of sake were added to the table, their tongues loosened and he finally sat back, observing the situation.

Choji's appearance is probably the most drastic out of all of them; having shed his big boned mass for a structure more obviously muscular. Lee was…the same, annoying twat he remembered, although his mooning at Neji was a new development. Neji was still as passive aggressive as ever with his sharp tongue and delightful wit yet seemed less angsty as he addressed Lee's unchanged ravings of youthfulness. He was seated next to his cousin, Hinata, who was better spoken, and no longer stammered when speaking to Naruto, although she would blush profusely whenever the hyper-blonde would lean onto the table to grab a piece of meat, revealing her low cut cleavage and looked devastated when Naruto laid a hand on his knee, dragging him as the authority to help back her up in an argument she was having with Kiba about weapons.

Ino starred at Shikamaru wistfully while his replacement from Team 7 appeared to have upgraded from deranged faking of emotions to being genuinely, socially awkward and capable of outwardly showing anger that Ino was not paying him any attention. From all the minor changes, he's most shocked at Sakura's—her chest size appeared to have doubled and she had the largest cleavage of her female cohort. It put an unpleasant taste in his mouth and he wrinkled his nose irritatingly. Suddenly, he was struck with a strange realization.

If this was his dream, why had their appearances changed so drastically?

"So, the soon to be Mister and Missus, how's wedding stuff going?" Ino asked cheerfully, pouring another round of sake for everyone. Naruto scowled annoyingly, drumming her fingers against the tabletop.

"You know exactly how it's going!"

"From your end, not Sasuke's," she winked in his direction, causing Sai to glare at him with hostility. At the mention of his name, Sakura looked at him in an intensive way that was far too familiar. "Did you finally get the last adjustments on your dresses?"

"Wait," Tenten interrupted, giving Naruto a deadpan look. "You still don't have your dresses finished?"

The blue-eyed beauty laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head. When she caught sight of Sakura's menacing glare she stuck both her hands up in defence.

"S-Sakura-chan, I can totally explain—!"

"—Do I have to drag you there myself?" the pinkette barked in response, her fist raised in outrage. He geared himself for the Sakura's inevitable blow-out, which would probably involve harming Naruto in some way, when Ino turned to Sakura, pointing a long, turquoise nail at her.

"And you! You're the maid of fucking honour and you can't keep Naruto in check? You know how busy she's been!"

"Yea, well I have been busy at the hospital Ino-pig!"

"Wow, what a lame excuse Forehead Girl!"

Ignoring how Ino and Sakura were about to throttle each other, Choji set his menu down calmly and spoke in a deep, masculine voice that honestly stumped Sasuke.

"That's right, it's in what, a week-ish?" Choji asked. "You guys are gonna have lots of food, right?"

"Don't even talk to me about the catering!" Naruto whined, slamming her forehead against the table, causing some of the liquid in their cups to spill over. "Everything is figured out except the fucking food. Why couldn't we just have ramen from Ichiraku, dattebayou?" her muffled complaint echoed from underneath her, causing the group to laugh.

"Because weddings are always a drag," Shikamaru chimed in. "Even if you guys were an Uzumaki and Uchiha, and this wasn't the greatest wedding of the decade, this would have been a shit show."

Sasuke eyes narrowed at Shikamaru's wording. Why wouldn't he have used Namikaze?"

"What's got your panties in a twist, Uchiha?" Kiba barked from across the table gearing up for a fight. "This wedding too much for you?"

"Too expensive for you, dog breath," he spat back on reflex.

"Leave them alone, Inuzaki," Sakura finally chimed in, punching him in the shoulder and causing the canine-nin to flinch pitifully. "You don't have the balls to ask someone out, let alone plan a wedding."

The usuratonkatchi was shockingly silent, staring at Sakura gratefully, leaning into his side. However, Sakura didn't seem to be too genuinely happy and there was something…off with how Sakura's been acting around the group. Was this some kind of ploy within the genjutsu?

"Man, you guys are getting more riled up than the people who are actually getting married, what a pain," Shikamaru muttered, reaching into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and quickly tucked it behind his ear, before turning to Sasuke, shaking the carton at him.

"Want one, Uchiha?"

"Sure," he responded smoothly, needing to get some air and space between himself and Sakura so he could figure out what she was. He exited quickly with Shikamaru, standing amongst other smokers, the moon's red glow mixing with the other bar signs, cascading a cocktail of neon lights over them.

"You'd think they would have matured by now," Shikamaru noted, lighting his cigarette and passing the lighter to Sasuke. "They're all so noisy."

"Hn, more like nosy."

"You know," he continued, "everyone always knew you two would hook up. Or kill each other. A wedding is kind of both of those."

The taller raven snorted in response, enjoying the burn of the cigarette and the way it shut his brain up. They both smoked in silence, needing a moment to regain his wits, when Sakura slinked out.

"Can I borrow Sasuke for a moment?" she asked gently. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at her, sighed, and threw his cigarette on the ground, stamping it out and mumbling about troublesome women as he made his way back inside. Sakura observed Shikamaru, eyes following him until the door had firmly shut behind him.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around so much," Sakura started timidly, reminding Sasuke of how she used to behave as a genin. "Since I've taken over Tsunade at the hospital, I've been extremely busy."

"It's…alright, Sakura," he replied awkwardly. At one time she had been a friend—his platonic feelings toward her had been mildly familial even though he'd always been frustrated with her skills as a kunoichi. In a genjutsu where everyone was meant to be happy, it would be suspicious if he was overly derisive.

"No, it's not," she replied sadly, looking right at him. "We're a team."

Naruto's words from earlier today echoed in his mind—You and I, we're a team. He had been so enthralled by her that it hadn't even registered to him that Naruto hadn't included Sakura, when in the real world, she always insisted that they, as in Team 7, were an indestructibly cohesive unit. In his mind, that team never existed anymore and the only one who mattered, was Naruto—if only because she was the only ninja powerful enough to challenge him properly or stand in his way.

He raised an aristocratic eyebrow at her, staring at her passively causing Sakura to look away, deep red blush blooming onto her cheeks. At first, he thought she was just avoiding his gaze, until he looked over as well, realizing that she was staring at Naruto. She had gotten into an arm wrestling match with Kiba, flexing her strong biceps which looked a little strange, considering the cropped, lacy, black top she was wearing with a low-cut neck-line, blue eyes outlined with smoky makeup and her hair twisted in messy side buns similar to Tenten. His eyes slid over to Sakura and she was smiling lightly, but it wasn't stretching across her cheeks.

"It's been hard for me to be around the two of you," she eventually spoke, once Naruto succeeded in slamming Kiba's arm into the table, whooping triumphantly.

She turned to look at him again, eyes begging him to say something. His lips stretched into a thin line, frowning eyes prompting her to continue. Sakura shook her pastel pink head, and suddenly he knew exactly what she was going to say, just like when they were genin, and he felt his body become rigid, silently begging her don't when she finally blurted out,

"I'm still in love with you."

It finally hit him. All of Sakura's dreams—having a large chest, being head nurse at the Konoha hospital—were fulfilled except…for being with him. This wasn't just his dream projected into the Tsukuyomi. He stared at her, not knowing what to say since he knew that this was the start of a horrible confession and—

"—And I love her. We're a team. I guess I'm just…getting used to being left behind again."

"Sakura," he responded uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head and exhaling cigarette smoke, not knowing what to do with his hands when she was so desperately reaching for his comfort. "You know that won't happen."

It's a lie, but it seems to pacify Sakura who nodded and slowly walked slowly inside.

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.

.

It was two am. Sasuke stared at the wisps of steam rising from his mug of tea, sitting at the kitchen table.

What a fucking mess. Everyone's dreams and desires had somehow cumulated and morphed into one mass entity to create this entire dream world. To his knowledge, only he had realized they were caught in the Infinite Tsukuyomi, he had no idea how to stop it, and he was getting married in a week to Naruto.

Tama meowed demandingly and jumped onto his lap. Sasuke pet the downy hair absentmindedly, troubled by not knowing what his next actions should be and how his and Naruto's relationship had manifested. How many of these were his desires? He'd always wanted his family back, but did that mean most Konoha inhabitants wanted the Uchiha back as well? In the deepest recesses of his mind, he's always wanted Naruto—whether it was as a friend, an enemy, or a lover—he's reluctant, but not prideful enough to deny that he's always needed her in his life in some capacity which is exactly why he violently tried to severe their bond. But if Sakura's confession had revealed anything, it was that desires didn't manifest unless more than one person dreamed it as well. Since he didn't reciprocate Sakura's feelings, a relationship between them didn't appear in the genjutsu. So, was his and Naruto's union a naïve construction of their mutual obsession and desire for family? Or was it because their gravitation toward one another was always something more? Besides his personal drama, and of far more importance, why was there a statue of Madara in the Uchiha district?

His fingers clenched around the mug. The worst part about it was that he didn't know what to do. He's never not known what to do and for once, the raven genuinely didn't know how to proceed. This jutsu… there had to be consequences beyond having their bodies in eternal paradise. Furthermore, a gargantuan amount of chakra was needed to sustain the jutsu. When he had observed the chakra strings pouring out of them, they hadn't appeared harmful, but for how long?

His thoughts were cut off when he heard Naruto rolling out of bed and softly padding her way over to him.

"Why are you still up? Are you alright?" she yawned, stretching her arms above her head.

"Yeah, I'm just—" What can he say? None of this is real. We're trapped in a genjutsu that's fucking with our minds and desires and I don't know how to break it. I need you to wake up.

Naruto wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a slow kiss to his shoulder, another on his neck, and finally into his mop of hair.

"Come to bed," she murmured, hugging him tightly. He quickly catalogued that her touch no longer caused him to stiffen. "I get weird dreams when you're not there."

That sparked his interest.

"Weird dreams?" he asked in a low rumble, turning slightly to stare at her. "Since when are any of your dreams normal, usuratonkatchi?" he teased, recalling how she used to rant about giant toads in her sleep when they were genin.

The blonde sneered at him before sitting down, taking Tama unwillingly into her lap and petting his soft hair.

"You're the worst. No, seriously, recently I've been getting these—flashes. But I don't think they're memories, you know? It's like I'm caught in a nightmare, and I keep hearing my dad telling me to get up. And then I wake up."

That sounded suspiciously familiar to his dreams. Other than the fact that he and Naruto were mutually deluded, he's starting to think that his—and Naruto's—dreams were memories; the missing black out pieces with clues as to how this had been cast and how they lost. But Naruto's dream, much like his own, wouldn't give him an obvious clue for how to break out of it from the inside.

"We should go to bed," he suddenly announced, thinking he didn't need Naruto to keep harassing him after her earlier confrontation today.

Naruto stared at him strangely as he broke out of her hold and walked toward their bedroom. He looked over his shoulder, "come on, loser."

She harrumphed loudly, but nonetheless trailed after him, their fingers finding each other and intertwining. When he pulled her into their bed, Naruto rolled onto him and kissed him deeply. He's surprised that there's the same tinge of desperation in it before she broke away with a weary sigh and rested her forehead against his.

"I love you so much," she whispered fiercely against his lips, fingers gently tracing shapes on his cheek. "You know that, right?"

He always has. Why else would she chase after him for years, spit in the face of everyone who would dare say an ill word about him, and continue to preach about how she would be the one to drag him back to Konoha? Even on his darkest days he could bury it, but could never deny it. And the fact that he's slowly succumbing to her warmth both thrilled and terrified him.

"I know," he murmured deeply, hands involuntarily running up and down her sides.

He closed his eyes and quickly succumbed to a deep sleep.

.

.

.

He was losing focus in his eyes. Dark, grainy dust clouds obscuring his vision and mixing with the blood filling his lungs as Madara stood above him. His limbs felt cold despite the blood dribbling out of the wound in his chest burning him. He blinked, forcing himself to remain conscious as his twisted ancestor suddenly disappeared. He tried to muster some chakra, using the remainder of his strength to try and feel Naruto's. If both of them died, then Madara would succeed. Suddenly, a voice echoed crisply in his mind, a voice he had never heard before.

Wake up.

Sasuke woke up with his nose buried into the back of Naruto's neck, her long hair frazzled above their heads, and his arm wrapped securely around her chest. In the back of his mind, he knew he should be…startled that they were spooning, but instead he succumbed to her warmth. He hadn't realized how much he missed human touch and just…platonic proximity. He allowed his eyes to slide shut, inhaling her scent deeply and indulge for a few more minutes. However, the dreams he was having were becoming more insistent, and he's worried that the more time he spent with Naruto in this pseudo-fantasy, the more he won't want this insanity to end. His arm unconsciously tightened and Naruto shifted, yawning loudly.

"Do we have any stupid wedding appointments today?" she asked gruffly.

"Not that I can think of," he replied honestly.

"Good," she grumbled, grabbing the covers and pulling them violently over her head.

"Wrong!" a cheerful voice popped from the window, causing Naruto to jolt in surprise with a yelp, knocking their heads together so painfully that he saw stars. He cursed viciously under his breath, rubbing his head with one hand and grabbing the covers with the other, pulling them tightly over Naruto's chest before she exposed her breasts to Kakashi of all people.

"What, bad timing?"

"Fuck! Kakashi-sensei you can't pull this kind of shit anymore!"

"Sure I can. You may not be my little genin anymore, but I work for the Yondaime, and the Yondaime requires your presence, Naruto. Something to do with your mother and the dresses."

He raised an eyebrow at their old sensei he seemed totally oblivious to their predicament. In fact, it also seemed like he was…avoiding his gaze? Had Kakashi realized this was an illusion with his sharingan as well and was pretending to act normal? He couldn't be sure with Naruto around, who kept rubbing her head before diving under the covers, sticking out her hand and flipping off Kakashi. Their former sensei paid them no mind, sitting on the windowsill and pulled out one of his erotic novels, patiently waiting for Naruto. He shoved her once…twice to no avail. On the third time, he channelled some of his chakra into his fingers tips and zapped her lightly with his lightening release.

She yelped angrily from under the covers, seething "Ite! Sasuke, you bastard! I've been sleeping like shit and now I can't catch a damn break before this fucking wedding!"

Kakashi smiled with faux glee, finally looking right at Sasuke, "save the pain and pleasure for your wedding night, brats. Although to be fair, a wedding is kind of pointless when your union's already been consummated."

His eyes narrowed dangerously and Naruto finally poked her head out, throwing her pillow at their perverted, white-haired sensei.

"Shut up Kakashi-sensei! Gimme five minutes."

That seemed to satisfy Kakashi, who gave them a thumbs up before flickering away. Once they were sure of his distance, Naruto finally crawled out from under the covers, muttering angrily to herself as she slammed open the closet and fished out a dark blue sports bra and a tight, mesh t-shirt. She sleepily dressed herself and trudged toward their bedroom door, grumbling I can't wait for this damn thing to be over.

He couldn't agree more.

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.

.

The two Uchiha brothers sat next to each other on the top of the Hokage-iwa, watching the blood orange sunset mixing with the enlarged crimson moon. Sasuke hadn't realized how intensely he missed just being close to his older brother and enjoy his presence. He hasn't…been able to do that since before the massacre. Just sit in silence and be brothers without the weight of tyrannical obligations, jealously, and hatred on their shoulders.

"I have to admit Sasuke, I'm a bit envious that you found someone so unconditionally devoted to you," Itachi spoke nonchalantly, staring out at Konoha.

"You've always had such a strong relationship. For a while we were worried that the two of you really would kill one another."

Sasuke snorted in response, refusing to look at his brother as discomfort settled in his stomach. Why was everyone so adamant on declaring the extremely thin line between his and Naruto's rivalry, friendship, and apparently, romantic interest to one another? Beyond actual shinobi that were caught in the genjutsu, Itachi was dead.

"Why do you say that?" he asked curiously, side-eyeing the other Uchiha.

Itachi shrugged. "Despite your intelligence, some things even slip through your fingers, Sasuke."

The younger of the ravens clenched his teeth, fingers curling into a fist. It was a brutal reminder of how he had always hated Itachi without even questioning once why his loving brother had suddenly "snapped" and committed atrocities against their family and clan. He had been so easily blinded and after he had killed Itachi, he had vowed to never allows something like this to happen again. It's why he had to break the genjutsu, had to suffocate his emotions for Naruto and defeat her. He needed to change the ninja system and ensure that something like this would never happen again—regardless of the means to get there. Ignoring the darkness that was slithering into his thoughts, he forced himself to take a deep breath and stare at the painful memory of Itachi.

"I'm marrying her, aren't I?" he asked haughtily, ignoring the way the words tugged on his emotions. Itachi smirked, clasping his shoulder tightly.

"I'm happy for both of you, truly. Just remember that marriage won't fix all your problems."

"What problems."

"The darkness that ignites you both. A chaotic fire like that will burn both of you in the aftermath. You both are still too young and impulsive to realize it."

Before he could respond to Itachi's strange, cryptic wording again, he flicked him painfully in the forehead.

"Anyway, tell me why you've been so obsessed with the Naka shrine as of late."

That was a surprise. It was very on brand for Itachi to be hyper-aware of his actions and to know much more than he was letting on, but considering the context it was also suspicious.

"Hn, I didn't think you'd noticed."

"I noticed everything you do, otouto. So tell me, what are you looking for? Every Uchiha knows the contents of the stone tablet."

Sasuke frowned. Something was off with Itachi and he didn't know what was generating his presence in this illusion. The more he thought about it, the more he was puzzled by his presence. Considering how many Uchiha were alive and the fact that the district had been restored, it was obvious that the majority of Konoha's denizens had either wanted the Uchiha back or were displeased with the massacre, but Itachi? Considering his Akatsuki status, wouldn't the majority be glad that Itachi was dead? Was he a manifestation of Sasuke's conscious? That would certainly explain the cross-examination of his unfortunate feelings for the usuratonkatchi. He was…wary to reveal to much in case this was a spy for Obito or Madara but was beginning to feel desperate in finding any clue that would reveal how to dispel the Infinite Tsukuyomi, recover his final memories of the war, and ending it.

"I'll know what I'm looking for when I find it," Sasuke vaguely responded, needing to keep his intentions as secretive as possible.

However, if this manifestation was some part of his consciousness, it could help him with his own thought process. Afterall, to his knowledge, his brother was one of the few Uchiha with the mangeykou sharingan who awakened Tsukuyomi in his right eye. However, if it was Madara or Obito's work, the consequences could include being manipulated again. He's through with being everyone's pawn. He could feel Itachi frowning at him as he wrestled with his own thoughts, and eventually, he decided he needed to risk it. There was no other way he could learn more about both Tsukuyomi and the Uchiha—from the Uchiha themselves.

"How much do you know about where our dojutsu's come from?" Sasuke suddenly asked, sitting with his knees bent and his arms lethargically wrapped around them.

"Hmm, not much, other than that they're based on the old religion we no longer worship."

"Well, apparently Tsukuyomi and Amaterasu were married, and when Amaterasu labelled her husband as 'evil' she threw him out and has avoided him ever since, hence why we have 'night' and 'day', as well as different abilities in our eyes."

He looked at his brother from the side of his eyes, curious to see the reaction. When Itachi had been alive, he hadn't contained the mangeykou, let alone eternal mangeykou sharingan. In fact, beside the few people he's fought and the handful of shinobi that witnessed his Amaterasu, no one knew he had awakened the full potential of the sharingan. Itachi stared at him blankly, blinking once before turning back to the sunset.

"Not every Uchiha awakens those specific abilities. But you're correct, our clan's most secretive and powerful techniques are based on a mythology hardly anyone remembers."

"And what of your Tsukuyomi?"

Itachi didn't even flinch before carrying the conversation, "Tsukuyomi is meant to represent the spiritual world and darkness. It is the antipode to Amaterasu. It can manipulate space and time while Amaterasu reacts in seconds and destroys anything it touches. It is both purifying and dangerous. But the more they are used, the more they begin to fade."

"Not necessarily," Sasuke responded, thinking of his own ability to manipulate and shape the eternal black flames because of transplanting Itachi's eyes into his skull. Itachi raised an eyebrow, but Sasuke refused to answer if he wasn't going to be pressed. If Itachi didn't respond aggressively or suspiciously it probably meant that…this manifestation of his brother was nothing more than a depiction of his imagination. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but it meant that the conversation wouldn't be dangerous, but rather, a way for him to explore his own thoughts.

"Anyway, the tablet only speaks of the relationship between the two, not how they form."

"Why don't you speak to the Uchiha elders?" Itachi responded diplomatically. "The tablet only carries so much information and you lack the proper training and eyesight to decipher it. Besides, it doesn't carry the entire story." Sasuke turned to stare at Itachi, giving him his full attention.

"Some stories say that Tsukuyomi, Amaterasu, and Susano'o were born when Izanagi washed his face. Tsukuyomi and Amaterasu came from his right and left eyes, respectively, while Susano'o came from his nose. But other legends counter their origins, arguing that Tsukuyomi was not of Izanagi but made by the god himself from a white, copper mirror he clutched in his right hand."

That…that changed things considerably. Itachi's Tsukuyomi had resided in his right eye but if the second legend was to be believed, that Tsukuyomi was a mirror—which would explain why the Infinite version required the eye of the castor to be reflected off the face of the moon, mimicking Amaterasu's light. If Tsukuyomi as a dojutsu trapped victims in a place where the castor could manipulate space and time, and Izanagi was a genjutsu self-cast on the user controlling reality, then the Infinite Tsukuyomi did both. Madara or Obito had manipulated the space to be a world of eternal peace but had given victims the ability to shape their own realities, which is why everyone's greatest desires and shared desires were manifest and altered. If that's how the genjutsu worked, it still didn't give a clue into breaking it. Other than smashing the metaphorical mirror, but even he wasn't reckless or stupid enough to try to destroy the moon.

"Look at you otouto, maybe you should have become an Uchiha scholar rather than a police officer."

"Could you imagine me as a monk?"

Itachi uncharacteristically snorted in laughter, "can't say that I can. But on the topic of our history, have you and Naruto figured out a loophole for the ritual yet?"

"The what?"

"This is unbecoming of you Sasuke. You were given the scroll months ago."

The younger of the Uchiha rubbed his temples, frustration beginning to seep into him again.

"Remind me," he demanded sullenly through clenched teeth, feeling angrier the more he stared at the streaks of orange in the sky.

"The Uchiha wedding sacrament…"

"…Which involves?"

"Sasuke, this is ridiculous. Grandfather gave you this scroll about the Ryubi no Jutsu Ritual months ago because Naruto can't perform a fire based jutsu. You were supposed to come up with a substitute or a way for her to perform her portion of the ritual."

Sasuke groaned loudly and buried his face into his hands. He's never even heard of such an absurd thing and although he's reluctant to admit it, he vaguely remembers a fire based jutsu being cast at Uchiha weddings. That fact that Naruto, who didn't have any elemental release, was to learn something fire based was completely out of question. It was also a gross reminder of what he'd have to endure if he didn't break this damn jutsu.

.

.

.

After his conversation with Itachi, Sasuke avoided everyone, sitting at the Uchiha docks alone like he used to as a child. It was a nostalgic spot where he spent many days and nights contemplating his motivations, his current actions, and future plans. He had spent years fantasizing about Itachi's death and rebuilding his clan. He felt just as small as he did back then—brooding and allowing his rage to monstrously stew. The implications behind this jutsu, the violation he felt at his emotions and feelings being used against him left him disturbed and he's so frustrated with himself for falling for it. What he felt for Naruto was irrelevant. Even he indulged himself in a dream world, what were the real-world consequences? For him, it was either death or revolution and he damn well wasn't going to go down without a fight. But starting a revolution within the dream world wasn't going to solve anything other than ignite conflict and amass a number of idiots who would only get in his way or alert Madara and Obito of his actions and dammit why couldn't he remember what happened?

He felt Naruto's chakra flare in the distance and his mood soured considerably. Of course, she would start chasing after him. Her anxiety regarding his absence was obvious to him, but right now he needed to stew alone with his thoughts. His feelings had never triumphed over his duties and he damn well wasn't going to give in when the state of the world was at stake.

Naruto landed gracefully a few feet behind him, commenting, "I haven't seen you this angsty since we were teenagers."

"Fuck you."

The blonde kunoichi wisely stayed silent and in the back of his mind, Sasuke thinks it's ironic that she's capable of restraining her loudmouth in an illusion but not in real life.

"Did something happen with Itachi?" she asked after a few moments of silence, her footsteps vibrating against the wooden dock as she walked confidently toward him. He glared at the dark lake ahead, refusing to give her attention as his aggravation increased.

"It's nothing," he responded definitively.

Naruto sighed loudly, "he's your brother. He means well."

"What would you know?" he viciously spat, his patience with this entire situation finally blowing up.

He loved his brother unconditionally, but the reality was that he'd lied and manipulated Sasuke since the massacre to design his own demise. For the greater part of his life, he's been incapable of any emotion other than hatred and bloodlust.

"What I know is that you've been moodier than usual these past few days for no reason."

Sasuke finally feels himself snap. He stood up, storming up to Naruto's face a spat, "and you've been clinging after me like a dog. Should I be giving you a collar instead of a wedding ring?"

He expected Naruto to punch him, start yelling at him, and go off like the emotional bomb she's always been. Instead she stood her ground, just as angry as he was but able to control her emotions.

"You always try to hurt me when something's upsetting you…" she spoke ferociously, gleaming teeth bared at him demonically red in the moon's glow. "…you always push me away and try to do things alone, only to have it blow up in your arrogant face."

Sasuke swung his fist, punching Naruto's jaw hard only for a cloud of smoke burst in his face as her shadow clone imploded. He immediately backflipped off the dock, landing gracefully on the lake's calm surface before Naruto's rasengan from above could smash into him. His sharingan started flaring as she run toward him and they began fighting each other. It's fast, hard, and brutal…but he's always been a better communicator through his fists. Naruto, for what it's worth, is frustratingly up to par with him, matching him almost equally in their deadly brawl, solely relying on their taijutsu skills to beat each other to a pulp. She'd gotten better, and yet he could feel that her blows were restrained. It gave him the upper hand, and it didn't take long for him to overpower her and slam her back into the ground.

They're both panting, Naruto smiling cheekily at him as if the fact that he'd "won" wasn't truly in his favour. It made his blood boil. He stood up, dusting invisible dirt off his pants and looked back at the lake. They hadn't caused too much damage, besides a few broken trees, which considering their violent streak was a damn miracle. He looked back down at Naruto, who still looked pleased with herself. She stretched her hand out, silently asking him to pull her up. He narrowed his eyes and turned away, shoving his hands into his black pant pockets, and started to walk away.

"Oi, bastard!"

He can here her scrambling up and running behind him. The moment she grabbed his upper arm he whipped around crossly, painfully breaking out of her hold.

"Just leave me alone, Naruto."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked, genuinely astonished and he realized that he'd finally crossed the line. This wasn't reality, where she was used to his moods and mean nature. She's visibly upset and for once, a vice squeezed the air out of him.

"Can you finally tell me what's been wrong with you this past week?"

"Naruto, I—"

"—This reminds me of when you shoved a hand through my chest."

He froze, staring at her in shock. That she would remember this is the narrative of their idealized lives honestly appalled him. Was that moment so important to her? Why would she hold onto that memory?

"For fuck's sake, Naruto—"

"—Seriously. And I couldn't tell what you were thinking, or what I meant to you."

She makes another reach toward him before aborting the movement, clenching her fists as she kicked some dirt. She looked over to the dock where he had been sitting with hardened eyes. He's suddenly hit with the memory of Naruto, alone as always, wandering the village. How they'd always glare at each other and where pit against one another despite their kindred loneliness and childhood trauma. They've always revolved around each other…were always on an unattainable level compared to their peers. Despite Naruto's cheery persona, he knows its just as much of a mask. She doesn't open up to anyone else…not in the same way she always did with him.

She finally looked back at him and he felt his breath hitch as her eyes welled with forgiveness he didn't deserve, unconditional understanding, and—fuck you, usuratonkatchi, for making me feel more than I should. His momentary lapse of rage dwindled as the uncomfortable sensation of guilt strangled him again. She continues to stare at him passively, but her eyes were tidal waves in her raging emotion. He remembered the Valley of the End and how she had tried so hard to reach him. It was the first time he'd actually acknowledged her strength out loud. He had confirmed that their friendship wasn't one-sided…the first time in years that he had unleashed all his repressed emotions. It also marked the first time he had acted so spontaneously and diverted from his plans.

That same nervous energy drove him forward to raise his hand to her cheek, hovering for a moment before tucking a lock of her unruly hair behind her ear. It almost felt like he would vomit again, and it fueled his conviction to carry through.

"Naruto," he spoke in a low, velvet smooth voice. Finally, he placed his hand on the back of her warm neck, swallowing as he considered recklessly admitting his most safely guarded secret aloud for the first time since it dared to cross his mind.

Her stony stare into a sad smile, hand reached up to tightly grip his wrist.

"I know," she leaned into his touch, once again proving just how much they understood each other with a single action as opposed to a thousand words. "Kind of figured, since you're putting a ring on it."

He thought back to Sakura and the evident fact that not all her desires had been fulfilled, insinuating that desires had to be compatible in order to manifest. If anything, this delusion proved that he was horrible at suppressing his emotions and that their fatal attraction was very much mutual. It would be supremely irresponsible and reckless to indulge in this more than he already has but at the same time, what did he have to lose?

The split-second decision was enough to ignore the rest of the world if it meant he could finally ease out of his constant anxiety. Since he'd first woken up, the raven is the one to make the first move, allowing himself to get lost in her hurricane. Sasuke pulled Naruto toward him, slotting his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. It felt baptismal, her entire charka warmly enveloping him as she gently pressed back. Her eyes slid shut as she let go of his wrist, carefully wrapping her arms around his lithe waist instead, as if afraid her touch would startle him. It was impossible, that despite their earlier rough touches, it was this tenderness that was causing all his walls to instantaneously crumble. She pulled away with a warm exhale, their lips still brushing against each other and he pressed his forehead against hers to ground himself.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, rubbing against smooth skin devoid of the scars that condemned her since they were children. Her hands rubbed up his sides before fisting his vest. She didn't pull him closer. In fact, it seemed like she was just as intoxicated as he was. She starred at him with no fear, as she always had, waiting for him to make the move. Even when his fingers trailed up her tan neck, his thumb eventually pressing against her plump, bottom lip she only tilted her head back, exhaling softly. She had left him in complete control of the situation, allowing for him to make the choice without (literally) wrenching his arm back to make him do what she wanted. The innocence only lasted for a moment before his resolve began to burn within him. Carnality possessed his next move as he pulled her toward him, pushing his lips against hers in an aggressive kiss and pried his way into her mouth with ease as she moaned in encouragement. She forcefully pulled away, dark blush reaching the tops of her breasts, from what he could see through her mesh shirt. Her pupils dilated with lust and she pressed her mouth against his ear, breathing hotly, "we should probably go home before we get caught fucking in a public space again."

She pushed him away with a sultry grin, biting her lip enticingly before sprinting off. For the first time, he chased her as she sprinted through the streets of Konoha as fast as she could. He eventually caught her just outside their building, spun her around and sealed their lips together. They barley tumbled back into the apartment, Naruto kissing him as if she would never be sated, her fingers threading through his thick, midnight black hair and pulling it in a way that made him moan embarrassingly into her mouth. Sasuke kicked the front door closed and the blonde immediately jumped, wrapping her muscular legs around his waist and forcing his heated arousal to rub against her own and he grunted at the added weight, hands grabbing her firm bottom and pulling her closer.

"Dobe, I—"

"—Shut up and touch me," she growled, lips peppering searing kisses across his cheek and down his neck before her sharp teeth latched against his ear.

He let out a humourless laugh, easily carrying her into their bedroom. He should have expected that Naruto would behave ferally during sex. He didn't have the brain capacity to ponder on whether it resulted from Kyuubi, or her own aggressive personality, as every nip and scrap of Naruto's teeth riled him up further. His knees meet the edge of the mattress and they toppled into the bed gracelessly, Naruto's teeth drawing blood as she yanked painfully on his ear. Sasuke hissed in pain, sneering at the blonde's mischievous snickering that rang against him. In retaliation, he grabbed her chin and turned it toward him so he could resume devouring her. Naruto's sparkling blue eyes slid shut, and she arched against him, long legs falling apart so he settled more comfortably between her.

There was an urgency to their movements. Naruto's blunt nails pried his sweaty shirt from his lower back, lifting it up and scratching his skin. Sasuke pulled away for a moment, quickly tugging his high-collared shirt off and throwing it away, and gradually crawled over her, resting his elbows on the bed to force some space between them. He wanted to savour the way he was feeling as his anxiety dissipated into nothing and the more primitive part of his brain took over, silencing his eternally screeching thoughts.

Gods she was so, so beautiful.

Naruto's eyes slithered open midway, eyes glowing in the musky darkness of the room. She held his gaze for a heartbeat, then tore her own shirt off, revealing her simple, blue sports bra overflowing with her breasts. She arched up, eyes never leaving his as her fingers creeped behind her back and the bra popped open. He stared at her hungrily. Naruto looked absolutely wild with her sunshine hair laid out like a halo and a dark, red blush reaching her breasts. Lust clouded her vision with a ferocious expression that dared him to make the next move. Sasuke pressed a slow kiss to her racing pulse, his own intoxicating desire reverberating against his chest. He dipped in to press sloppy kisses against her neck, desperate to taste every part of her. His lips brushed over her darkening nipple, causing her to whine loudly. His eyes flickered up to look at her, needing to see just how much she wanted this before latching on, biting lightly and eliciting a rasping moan. He should have known that Naruto liked her pleasure with a bit of pain.

He doesn't indulge her for long, lips skimming down the valleys of her body and hard muscles, occasionally sucking on her salty skin, eager to leave as many marks on her as possible. Naruto impatiently leaned up on her elbows, frustration bleeding out of her blown out pupils and golden mane cascading down her tan shoulders. She looked delicious covered in hickies, the darkening marks stirring something deep and possessive within him.

"Are you going to get me off or not?"

"So impatient," he chastised causing her to snap back, "how can I be patient when you're looking at me like that?"

"How do I look at you?" he murmured lowly, hooking a finger into her panties to slide them down, genuinely curious. Her lips twitched into a half smile, as she mockingly sang out, "Like you love me."

"And if I do?" he retorted, excited with how dangerous the question was.

He doesn't give her a chance to respond, going down on her pulsing sex and eliciting a sharp inhale, strong fingers anchoring themselves in his hair. He continues to watch her expression, quickly learning what works best as his tongues delves into the most intimate part of her, his own hands digging into her thick thighs to keep them apart. She was so different from his previous female and male lovers who were obnoxiously loud. Naruto was a naturally loud person, drawing attention to herself as much as possible, and yet she knew how to be strategically quiet. He immediately recognized the glint in her eyes; a familiar gleam that would bubble to the surface whenever they were fighting. This was slowly becoming a challenge of how much he could make her to react. It's only once he fucks her with his tongue that she finally becomes vocal, high-pitched oh's making him so much greedier for her. Chasing her own pleasure, Naruto let go of the vice-grip she kept on his hair, fingers trailing up her stomach before twisting her own nipples.

He pulled away from her throbbing sex and bit into the soft skin of her inner thigh. Naruto finally threw her head back, releasing a guttural groan mixed with his name, hands immediately shooting to grab the bed frame. He quickly sucked on her clit and Naruto finally released with a loud exhale, thrusting her hips against his face as she rode out her climax. He grinned at the breathless kunoichi whose body looked livid under his ministrations. He was the only one who she would submit to in this way and he selfishly wanted more. That he could finally have this…enjoy this…made him shake with need. He couldn't help himself and descended onto her again, kissing up her stomach. Her legs slid down his body to wrap around his waist, squeezing so tightly that he grunted in pain.

"Come on, Sasuke."

He lazily rolled off her, reaching into the drawer in search of condoms. When he couldn't find any, he growled lowly, pushing himself up to properly search through the drawer and he's worried that for once, his muscle reflex led him astray and he doesn't even want to think about stopping this.

"Hurry up," Naruto breathlessly demanded.

He looked over his shoulder and felt his blood pool into his cock at the sight of her fucking herself with two fingers, the other hand massaging her breast as she looked at him with hooded eyes. Her canine's glinting in a teasing smile before she threw her head back, never breaking her stare. In a fit of irritation, he yanked the drawer out, dumping all the contents onto the floor, which miraculously revealed a few condom packs. He threw the empty drawer in the room's corner with a loud bang, paying no mind as he hastily picked up his prize and waved it at Naruto. He made his way over to her, but Naruto quickly hooked her legs around him and slammed his back into the mattress, straddling him. His chakra flared, adrenaline eagerly boiling to fight her back, and it sent a thrill down his spine. Sex has always been boring—a way to release tension. He shouldn't have expected anything less from Naruto.

Her palm started rubbing firm circles against his erection through his pants and he's suddenly aware how painfully hard he is. Naruto licked her lips and unbuttoned his black ninja pants, sliding them down his thick thighs along with his boxers. She blew on his pulsing length and he hissed, hands reaching out, but Naruto is shockingly faster and grabbed his wrists. She looked up at him wickedly, his cock standing proud and angry beside her face. Her lips ghosted over the head and his hips jerked up, causing Naruto to pull back.

"Fuck you, Naruto," he spat infuriatingly.

"That's the point, isn't it?"

She lowered herself slowly, ass sticking in the air as she whispered against his livid membrane, "you made me wait for days and now you want a fast fuck? Not happening, anata."

The drowning sensation he's always had when it comes to his emotions regarding love and affection make him want to melt into her whirlpool and sink to the bottom of the ocean. He never expected to feel it so intensely after years of repressing himself. For the first time, it feels like she's tethered him—pulled him out of the rain and he's in the eyes of the storm. Everything is crashing around them and yet they're in the clear.

He snorted derisively as Naruto continued her teasing ministrations, letting her play her little game, knowing he would fuck her through the floor later. She nipped at his abdominal muscles, sloppily licking her way down to his cock before swallowing him down to the hilt. He bit his lip, holding his breath for a moment, and exhaled, refusing to allow Naruto to wring out anymore mortifying noises. Gods he had forgotten Naruto didn't have a gag reflex and to experience it in action was so, so erotic.

She rubbed the bottom of his base, her hand dragging his foreskin up and down with each wet stroke. Just when he feels like he's about to shoot his load she pulls off, she shakily snatched the condom out of his hand, ripping it open with her teeth before slipping it onto his sensitive dick. Naruto raised to her knees, shifting forward and lowered herself onto him. She rubbed her swollen sex against him, lewdly coating it in her essence, and he hissed when he'd catch the edge of her enlarged entrance. He knew what she was doing a refused to give in, instead his free hands trailed up her silky thighs, using his nails to dig into the thick muscles. She gasped, avoiding his penetrative gaze and fisted his cock, angling it so he could slide right into her in a single, impatient thrust. A groan ripped out of his throat and his sharingan activated. Kami he's fucked other women and men before; senseless lovers that were nothing more but a warm body for him to release tension onto. But this…the last barrier between them was obliterated and he felt completely overawed at the absolution coursing through his veins from the smoldering tightness. He stared at her with spinning red eyes, willing her to understand everything he wanted to say without opening his mouth as the texture of her monstrous chakra choked the air out of him. Gods she felt so wet, aching against him as their heart beats synchronized.

She's inhaled deeply, eyes falling shut, and snapped her hips forward, clenching her pelvic muscles so excruciatingly he saw stars. The friction felt wonderful and he didn't waste time, planting his feet solidly onto the bed so he could ram up into her, clammy hands smoothing up her waist. Despite the brutal pace the tenacious blonde had set, riding him into oblivion, it wasn't enough. It felt like it would never be enough. In a true show of dominance, he tightened his grip and flipped their positions, pushing her limp leg onto his shoulder before thrusting back into her, eliciting a panted fuck yeah, from Naruto who pulled his body against his, groaning Sasuke loudly as her breasts rubbed against his chest. Her rough hands clamped onto the raven's bottom, forcing him to fuck her harder to which he greedily complied. Nothing would ever compare to this.

He was getting close, and he wanted to draw this out for as long as possible, his forehead falling onto her shoulder as he hid his expression from her, not wanting to expose his own vulnerability. Nonetheless, Naruto seemed to know exactly what was going on, trailing her hand up his spine before cupping the back of his neck, forcing him to raise his heavy head so their heated cheeks pressed against each other. She played with the damp hair at the back of his neck, lips resting against his ear and there was absolutely no space between them as he desperately tried to envelop her.

"Sasuke," her voice quivered, so unlike the sensual groans she was releasing earlier. "I love you so much."

He whimpered, slamming into her brutally, biting on her shoulder as he painfully released. He began to thrust harder when he felt her climax around him. Naruto pressed kisses against his ebony hair as he collapsed on top of her. Dazed with affection for her, Sasuke wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he could. Finally, the buzz of his mind ceased, and he lay contently on her, too exhausted to move…to warm with desire…too sensitive with emotion. He kept his sharingan activated as he stroked her radiating skin, lips resting against her collarbone. He wanted to remember this moment…savour it for as long as he could before he had to get rid of it.

Naruto didn't seem to mind his heaviness, pleased to keep him insider her as she hummed contentedly, returning his embrace and basking in their afterglow. Once their sweat cooled and he felt disgustingly sticky, Naruto pushed them onto their sides so that he dislodged from her with a discontent mumble. Before he got up to shower, bravely, he looked into her eyes, surprised to see her just as dizzy as he was, and he felt hypnotized as Naruto raised her hand to stroke his cheek.

"I missed you," she slurred, dragging her lips against his in a slow kiss, sighing when their foreheads met each other. "I missed you so much, you bastard."

He didn't entirely know where this was coming from. Like the conversation with Itachi, it seemed like Naruto's conscious was bleeding through the illusion. He lowered his arms to the small of her back, pulled her firmly against him once more.

"Naruto," he finally gave into uttering her name, whispered it into her hair. "You don't have to miss me when I'm right here."

She made a painful nose and tried to pull him even closer, as if she could fuse them together. They held each other for what seemed like an eternity, until he gently broke out of her hold, discarding the condom and dragging her into the bathroom to properly shower. For once, he doesn't want to think. He wants to be selfish and focus on something other than revenge and family and ride this wave. For the first time since he'd achieved consciousness in the Infinite Tsukuyomi, he slid into a dreamless sleep. When he woke up the next day in the late afternoon, he traced the curves of her face, memorizing every detail: the way she glowed in the early morning light, her shimmering hair inelegantly frazzled and the small amount of drool escaping from the side of her coral pink lips. He kissed sharp shoulders and admired the slight flex in her arm, revealing her bulging biceps. When she finally woke up, revealing azure blue eyes and a bright smile it felt like looking at the sun. He couldn't help but think, this is what it feels like to come home.

.

.

.

A couple of days had passed, and Sasuke was feeling the exhaustion of being caught between worlds.

From one perspective, things had drastically changed between himself and Naruto. He felt at complete ease when in her presence, comfortably throwing his arm around her shoulder in a casual fit of possessiveness when they'd stroll through Konoha. In fact, he finds it amusing that the easiest way to shut her up is to straddle her, and he kind of wished he'd figured that one out earlier. It was…he didn't want to label it, but he realizes the danger in letting his guard down. Conversely, he's unable to figure anything out. He'd have to set his own ideological goals and motivations to the side about the pros and cons of the jutsu when hew as caught in it himself and it was obviously flawed. He had witnessed no open conflict, but even something as simple as Sakura's unhappiness at their union was proof of its internal failure to meet the needs of each host.

The limited information he recovered from the Naka Shrine is a riddle he's unable to crack and when he'd been able to find a moment of time for himself, he'd tried to analyze the moon more closely with his sharingan. He was unable to break himself out of the genjutsu, which is an infuriating complication that should be impossible. No genjutsu should be able to withstand the sharingan—especially the eternal sharingan. Was this the power of the rinneagan? Furthermore, his nights have been dreamless, and he felt as if they had yet to reveal the key to unraveling how this all began. Besides, he couldn't help but shake the eerie feeling that he was missing something important. The raven rogue was used to bull-dozing his way through all his obstacles; borders, countries, laws meaningless if it meant getting what he wanted. Of course, he was more than capable of staying in the shadows and running covert ops either with himself or with Taka, but even then, he hadn't needed to keep up appearances. As enthralling as Naruto was, she was still a colossal annoyance and thorn in his side when it came to his fierce independence.

A ridiculously alluring thorn, he couldn't help but think, as Naruto slept soundly against his side with her face buried into his hip and arms wrapped loosely around his waist. It wasn't even that late, but Naruto had complained about having a migraine as if her head was about to split in two. She'd popped three painkillers, hoping they'd counter-act as much pain as possible before the demon fox flushed the chemicals out of her system. But they'd done their duty, making her numb and drowsy, collapsing onto the bed next to him as he continued to read a scroll he'd stolen from the Naka Shrine—not that Naruto had noticed. She thought he'd been reading mission reports.

Suddenly Naruto began to mumble against his sweatpants. At first, he ignored it, trivializing it as Naruto's sleep garble until she started panting, nails digging into his sides with a sting that drew blood. She was having another nightmare.

"Naruto," he muttered, shaking her shoulder. "Dobe, wake up."

She didn't. Her breathing became erratic and her fist swung out, narrowly nailing him in the nose as he swiftly maneuvered to the end of the bed. She was thrashing wildly, as if fighting for her life against whatever phantom force was tormenting her, and he panicked, sharingan flaring into life. Her charka streams seemed normal—beyond the thin thread sucked by the moon—and the Kyuubi's chakra hadn't mixed into her stream. What had triggered her night terror?

Dodging another limb, Sasuke forced Naruto's arms into the mattress, straddling her to keep her in place.

"Wake up," he commanded loudly, tomoe swirling into a pinwheel surrounded by black loops. "Naruto, you need to wake up."

"Can't die yet!" she slurred, bucking him off of her before gasping into consciousness.

The moment her eyes flew open, and she stared at him with frantic, flickering cerulean orbs he felt his stomach drop.

Naruto had woken up.

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A/N: Because we deserve more Naruto fix-its and Infinite Tsukuyomi shenanigans. So I haven't posted a Naruto fic in a while and I'm very nervous-especially since the moment the series ended, I was so disappointed with the ending that I needed a break from writing Naruto and scrapped a few fix-it ideas. This work consolidates about a year of brainstorming and writing and I'll admit, I've been a very slow writer lately since grad school ate up my time and thesis writing kicked my ass; then Covid-19 happened and I had to defer my thesis defense so yeah.

That being said, I have lots of work in the pipeline, much of which is Naruto-centric (and for those who care/have followed me long enough, a Ghost Flowers re-haul!). I really hope I can start writing more frequently as I, despite everything, have more time and inspiration on my hands.

Finally, I hope everyone everyone is staying safe and healthy in these unprecedented times. Hopefully this puts a smile on your face.