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Chapter Text

Prologue — Dust Settles, But Doesn’t Heal

2 years after the war

(Naruto's POV)

A week before the wedding

Peace looked good on paper.

The village had never been more colorful: streamers over rooftops, laughter in the markets, old buildings made new again. The Five Nations were finally aligned in more than just survival. There were festivals now. Lanterns at night. Civilian kids with scraped knees instead of ninja scars.

The war had ended, but the world still felt half-burnt. Konoha rebuilt faster than anyone expected, planks rising, laughter returning, but Naruto hadn’t. He stood at the edge of it all like someone observing their own life from behind glass.

He told himself he should be happy. He was happy, in theory. The war was over. He had friends. A future. The Hokage hat was being stitched for him, they said. All he had to do was stay steady. Stay good. Stay expected.
And he was. Mostly.

Every morning, he helped with rebuilding missions, training academy grads, or sitting in on boring discussions with Lord Sixth Kakashi-sama and the elders about “long-term structure.” His afternoons belonged to events, charity visits, or public appearances.

His relationship with Hinata was something he really didn’t think about too much. It felt like the obvious thing to do, right? She never demanded more than he could give. She never pushed. Never questioned the space between his body and his heart.

And Naruto loved her. Or, he was trying. Trying to grow into the version of himself that could love her the way she deserved. Weeks earlier, when Kakashi mentioned Hinata’s quiet devotion and asked if Naruto was ready to “settle down,” Naruto had smiled, said the right things, and felt nothing but a dull, misplaced guilt.

So he proposed. And she said yes with tears in her eyes and her whole soul in her hands.

That night, alone, he dreamed of the Valley of the End, not the fight, but the way Sasuke’s hand would have felt in his, both of them half dead, refusing to let go.

Every time a raven passed overhead, his breath hitched. Every time the wind shifted, or the shadows flickered, or someone mentioned “wandering nin,” his heart beat like something waking up.

And it wasn’t fear that gnawed at him every night,it was want.

The kind he didn’t name.
The kind that didn’t make sense.
The kind that made him feel guilty every time Hinata’s hand curled around his in the dark.

A Week Before the Wedding

He hadn’t heard from Sasuke in almost three months. His hands had stopped shaking days ago, yet every time he caught a glimpse of Sasuke’s back, the old ache lit up again, fierce and familiar.

They’d been walking together that morning. No mission, no purpose,just the silence that followed people who had already said everything. The path was muddy from last night’s rain. Naruto had meant to tell Sasuke something stupid, like how Iruka kept calling him “Hokage-sama” before the title even fit.

But Sasuke turned to look at him then, really look and Naruto forgot every word.

There was nothing dramatic about it. No wind gust, no sunbeam. Just that calm, dark gaze, steady as it had been on the battlefield, when they’d bled side by side and refused to die.

And Naruto thought, with a clarity that left him breathless:

This is the person I’ve been trying to reach my whole life.

It wasn’t friendship. Friendship was what he’d had with everyone else. This was something that sat lower in his chest, warm and terrifying. Something that made his heart trip over itself every time Sasuke’s sleeve brushed his.

…so that’s what this is.

He’d been calling it “brotherhood” for years. Told himself it was about bonds. About saving a friend who lost his way.

But friends don’t look at each other like that.

Not the way his chest twists when Sasuke turns away.
Not how everything goes quiet in him when Sasuke’s around.

And now he can’t unsee it.

He kept telling himself it’s just the bond. That all this mess in his chest,the way his throat tightens when he thinks about Sasuke,it’s just relief that they survived. That they’re finally on the same side again.

But he knows that’s not it.

Every time he sees Sasuke, even just passing by, it hits like a punch. That same stupid flutter that used to make him chase him across the world. Only now it’s worse, because there’s no excuse left.

They’re both grown. The war’s over. Peace is supposed to feel simple.

Kakashi’s Hokage now, and everyone keeps looking at Naruto like he’s next. The future hero. The steady one.

But how’s he supposed to lead a whole village when he can’t even figure out his own heart?

What would they say, the elders, the villagers, hell, even his friends, if they knew the great Naruto Uzumaki can’t stop thinking about another man?

About Sasuke, of all people.

Would the villagers still look at him with respect? Or would they start whispering behind his back again, like when he was a kid and everyone looked away?

Would the people still bow to a Hokage who loved another man?
Who loved Sasuke?

He tries to picture it. Standing in front of the village, saying the words out loud:

“I love Sasuke.”

He almost laughs,not because it’s funny, but because it sounds impossible. He’s spent years trying to earn their respect. Now he might lose it for the one person he never could stop chasing.

He hates that the thought even scares him. After everything,the wars, the loss,he’s still afraid of being hated.

And Sasuke… hell, that’s its own battlefield.

Naruto knows what it’s like to love someone broken. Someone who keeps walking away.

What if he said it and Sasuke looked at him with that same calm, unreadable stare,and turned his back again? Could he survive that twice?

He thinks of Hinata, of the life they are going to build together, the life that feels good on paper. But it’s not this.

Not the ache that coils in his chest when Sasuke stands too close.
Not the quiet that feels full when they don’t speak.

Would Sasuke ever want him back?

Not out of guilt. Not out of shared history. But because he feels it too?

Because Naruto can’t tell if Sasuke feels the same, or if all that tension between them is just his own stupid heart reading too much into it. Sasuke’s always been hard to read. Always walking that thin line between staying and leaving.

What if Naruto said something and ruined everything?

What if it made Sasuke disappear again?

He couldn’t take that. Not again.

So he buries it. Calls it friendship. Calls it loyalty. Calls it anything that doesn’t sound like love.

He rubs the back of his neck like that’ll calm him down. But it doesn’t.

He can’t stop wondering if Sasuke knows. If he can feel it when their eyes meet,that pull that never went away.

And he hates himself for it, because he’s supposed to have moved on.

Would Sasuke even want that kind of thing? No… he probably wouldn’t. Sasuke’s too full of guilt. Too closed off.

Naruto knows he’s got no right to want more from him.

So he keeps quiet. Smiles around everyone else. Talks about dreams and rebuilding. Pretends everything inside him isn’t tied up in one person who keeps walking away.

Sometimes, late at night, he thinks about just saying it. Blurting it out. Taking the risk.

But then he remembers how Sasuke looked before he left that last time. The sadness in his eyes. The wall between them.

Naruto can fight gods. But saying I love you to Sasuke Uchiha?

That’s the one battle he still doesn’t know how to start.

He didn’t confess, of course. He wasn’t sure he even could.

Sasuke left again, and Naruto let him, because that was what loving him seemed to mean—letting go and waiting for his shadow to fall across the village gates again.

He woke before dawn, hand still clenched. Sleep had never felt farther.

For the first time, he didn’t fight the truth of it.

He loved Sasuke,had loved him through hatred, through loss, through every lifetime they’d burned through to find each other again.

The sky outside was just turning pale, light spilling over the Hokage monument.

Naruto sat by the window, watching the village breathe, and whispered into the empty room,

“Guess I’m too late, huh?”

The wind didn’t answer.
But in that stillness, he finally did.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Almost

 A Week Before the Wedding

(Sasuke’s POV)

Sasuke had learned to mistake silence for control.

It was easier that way, easier to fold every tremor, every unwanted warmth, into stillness.
The war had ended, but the noise inside him hadn’t.

He came back.
Not for long. Just long enough to remind himself why he always leaves.

The village was louder than he remembered, brighter too, too clean, like even the air had forgotten the war.
It smelled like fresh paint and civilian life and people who’d never watched their comrades die screaming in the rain.

Konoha rebuilt; he wandered.
Peace suited the village better than it suited him.

Everything smelled like it, fresh wood, inked scrolls, rice steaming behind open windows, and it made his skin itch.
He thought it would feel good to see it whole again.
It didn’t.

He’d spent so long learning how to leave that staying felt like another kind of exile.
Sakura still looked at him like there was something left to save.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her she was staring at an echo.

Sasuke had always believed that cutting things away was how you survived.
You shed what you didn’t need, family, warmth, the sound of your own laughter, and you kept moving until the silence didn’t hurt anymore.
That was supposed to make him strong. That was supposed to make him free.

He’d thought peace would make things easier.
It didn’t.
It only stripped away the excuses.
Without war, there was no mission to hide behind. No vengeance to justify the distance.

He sat beneath a tree near the old training grounds. Knees bent, one hand pressed into the dirt like it could ground him.
Still. Always still.
As if any movement might betray how unsteady he really was.

And everywhere he went, Naruto’s voice followed, like something stitched into the back of his ribs.
Just Naruto, too close, too bright, and the silence that follows when you ran out of reasons to stay apart.

Naruto.
Naruto.
Naruto.

Loud, ridiculous, relentless Naruto, who wouldn’t stop chasing him through battlefields and years and every lie Sasuke told himself about being alone.

Sasuke forced himself to walk the main road.
He walked with his cloak drawn low.
No one recognized him. 
Good.
He wasn’t ready for the eyes. The questions. The pity.

He heard Naruto’s name three times before noon.

Once from children chasing a kite.
Once from a vendor giving away oranges.
Once from a man bowing to Kakashi, asking how “Hokage-sama” was adjusting to the role, even though the hat hadn’t passed hands yet.

Naruto was everywhere.
Naruto always was.

And Sasuke was still the ghost who walked behind him.

He’d told himself it was guilt.
That was easier, too.
Guilt was clean.
Guilt made sense.
Love didn’t.

He preferred guilt. Guilt didn’t ask you to stay.

When Naruto had said, “I’ll bear your hatred,” Sasuke had wanted to laugh, because who else would say something so stupid?
Who else would mean it?

But the years went by, and the weight of that promise stayed in him like a second heartbeat.

He’d spent his life staring into hatred until it became familiar, but what he felt for Naruto wasn’t that.
It was worse.
It was wanting.

Every time Naruto reached for him, Sasuke felt himself split down the middle , half of him desperate to be seen, the other half desperate to disappear before Naruto could.

He’d tried to kill that feeling. Over and over.

Because it disgusted him. How deep it went, how nothing else could compare.

He thought of his clan, his revenge, the ghosts he’d sworn to honor… and realized he’d trade every single one of them just to stand next to Naruto again without pretending it didn’t matter.

He’d see Naruto smile and feel his chest tighten, because that light wasn’t meant for him, not after everything he’d done.
But Naruto kept looking at him like he was still worth saving.
And that mercy felt like cruelty.

He thought time would kill it. That leaving would starve it out.
Instead, every distance he carved only made Naruto sharper in his mind.
The stupid grin.
The way he’d look at Sasuke like he wasn’t something broken, just… delayed in coming home.

Sasuke remembered the questions he used to throw like knives:

“What does friend mean to you?”
It wasn’t curiosity. It was a plea in disguise: Tell me what I am to you, so I can stop wondering if it’s love.

“I know your heart, and you mine, right Naruto?”
It was a confession drowned in pride.

And when he told him, “You’re my one and only,” he meant it in a way he’d never meant anything else.

He’d always wanted to hear it, say it for me, so I don’t have to.
Because saying it himself would’ve shattered whatever armor he had left.

He’d thought maybe Naruto would say something reckless again.
Maybe he’d confess without knowing what he was confessing to.

But Naruto never did.
He just looked at him, open and steady, as if waiting for Sasuke to take his hand on his own terms.

And that’s when it turned cruel. Because Sasuke realized the truth: Naruto loved him, but he didn’t need to name it.
Sasuke, though… he did.
And he couldn’t.

He started testing it like a wound.
Every fight, every jab, every exile was him asking: Will you still love me if I push you one step further?

And every time, Naruto answered yes. By standing back up.

That’s when the disgust came.
Not because it was Naruto, but because Sasuke knew he’d never feel this for anyone else.
He could live a hundred lives and never want anyone the way he wanted him.
Fiercely. Selfishly. Ruinously.

After the war, standing over the Valley of the End again, blood drying on both their faces, he finally saw it plain:
Naruto was his only constant.
His only rival.
His only peace.
His only home.

Sasuke wanted to laugh, or scream, or confess.
He wanted to say, I love you, you fool. I’ve always loved you. You’re the only thing I’ve ever loved.

He didn’t say it.
He couldn’t.

The words burned too much to come out.

But when Naruto smiled at him through split lips and said, “Let’s go home,”
Sasuke knew he already had.

The rain had already stopped when Sasuke found him.

He turned a corner and there he was, talking to someone by the market stall, smile too wide, sleeves pushed to the elbows.
And for a second, just a second, Sasuke forgot how to breathe.

When Naruto smiled, it hit him like a genjutsu, soft, disarming, the kind that leaves you defenseless before you realize you’ve fallen for it.
It was the kind of smile that used to be his.

Sasuke looked away before it showed on his face.
He watched him from a distance, the way Naruto ran a hand through his hair, waved goodbye, and turned. And froze.

Their eyes met.

The path was slick, the air sharp with that smell of new earth after a storm.

They walked, with Naruto beside him, hands in his pockets, talking about nothing and everything the way he always did.

Naruto talked about rebuilding. About missions. About Iruka calling him Hokage like it was a joke that became real.

Sasuke only half listened.
He was too busy studying the edges of his voice, the quiet moments between the words.
It was easier to memorize those than the things he actually said.

Naruto’s laughter caught in the air.

“What?” Sasuke asked, too sharp, because softness scared him more than any enemy ever had.
“Nothing,” Naruto said, and looked at him like he was trying to remember the shape of his face.

Naruto’s voice was steady, but his shoulders were too tense.
His laugh didn’t reach his eyes.

He wasn’t okay.
But he wanted Sasuke to believe he was.

That, more than anything, made Sasuke ache.

He saw the ring.

Not a wedding band yet, but close.
A placeholder.
A promise.

Hinata’s name wasn’t spoken, but it didn’t need to be.
Sasuke knew.
He knew what Naruto was building.
What he was forcing himself to be.

And he hated himself for the flicker of resentment that came with it.
Not toward her.
Never her.

Toward the silence between them.
Toward every unspoken thing they buried under the word bond.

He almost said it.
Almost.

Something like: Are you happy?
Or: Do you love her?
Or: Did I wait too long to stay?

But instead, he said:

“You look tired.”

And Naruto lied:

“I’m fine.”

The silence that followed was heavier than steel.

He left again.
Because he didn’t know how to stay.
Because part of him thought Naruto would never say the words.
And part of him was terrified he would.

So he walked away before he could find out.

But just before he vanished into the trees, he turned back.
He watched Naruto’s silhouette shrink into the noise of the village, cloak in the wind, head bowed.

He wanted to say: I love you, do you know that?

Instead, he said:

“Don’t forget to eat.”

A stupid thing. A nothing sentence.

But Naruto flinched, like it meant everything.

Sasuke wanted to run.
He also wanted to stay forever.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 — His face, always
(Naruto’s POV)

The night before the wedding

The hum of the village almost seeped through the window.
Music, voices, the faint crackle of lanterns being lit for his wedding.
But Naruto couldn’t hear it.

For him, the room was quiet in a way that dared him to breathe too loud.

He lay on his back, arms behind his head, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling like it might have answers carved into the plaster. The sheets were kicked halfway off the bed, bunched at his ankles.

The fan overhead spun in slow, tired circles, but it did nothing for the heat crawling under his skin.

He couldn’t sleep.
He hadn’t even tried.

A bottle of sake stood half-empty beside him, untouched for the last hour.

All he could hear was Sasuke’s voice. Every laugh, every cheer outside his window. It meant nothing.

He was the hero. The groom. The man who finally had everything he’d ever said he wanted.

But when he closed his eyes, it wasn’t Hinata’s face he saw.
It was Sasuke’s.

The world would give him a wedding, a title, a perfect life, everything but the one person he couldn’t stop craving.

Tomorrow, the whole village would be watching him say “I do.”
And still, all he could think about was Sasuke.

Naruto squeezed his eyes shut. That didn’t help either.
All it did was burn the memory deeper.

He’d tell himself it wasn’t like that.
He’d tell himself he just admired him, his strength, his calm, his stupid, graceful way of moving.

But admiration doesn’t make your stomach twist and your throat feel too tight.
It doesn’t make your heart feel like it’s being wrung out every time he turned his head just enough for the light to catch his face.

Sasuke’s beauty is the kind that lingers in the corners of a room even after he’s gone.
It doesn’t demand attention, but commands it.

The kind of beauty that wasn’t loud or showy. Just there. Effortless and untouchable.
It wasn’t gentle, it was cruel.
It reminded Naruto of everything he couldn’t have, everything he couldn’t say.
A kind of beauty that didn’t ask to be noticed, but punished you if you did.

He was never supposed to notice.
Not like this.

Not in the way that made his hands clench every time Sasuke looked away. Like he was missing something important, something that belonged to him.

Because Sasuke didn’t even have to do anything.
He just was, standing there, impossibly calm, impossibly distant
And Naruto was the one falling apart.

He remembered the delicate lines and the soft edges of his face, so unfairly pretty, too pretty.
Pale skin that looked like it hadn’t been touched by sunlight in years, and how it would probably bruise too easily if anyone ever dared to touch it.

He shouldn’t imagine what that skin would feel like if he touched it.
Would it be as soft as it looked?
Would Sasuke let him?
Would he lean into it?

It wasn’t fair.

But it was his eyes that ruined Naruto.
Those eyes. His eyes.

Dark, endless, infuriating eyes.
Sometimes so empty they looked like still water.
They looked at him like they knew everything he was too afraid to admit.

When Sasuke’s gaze locked on his, it felt like falling.
Like Naruto could lose himself there and never find his way back.

And some nights, when he was too tired to fight it, he’d think… maybe he wouldn’t mind drowning if it was in that kind of darkness.

How someone so cold could still be beautiful?

And that made him angry.
No, furious.
It pissed him off.

How someone like him could look like that.

How do you tell the world’s strongest shinobi that he was brought to his knees not by war, not by pain,
but by the way Sasuke’s lips parted slightly when he was thinking?
By the slope of his neck?
By the way he looked at Naruto like he was the only thing left worth hating?

Sasuke looked like something out of a dream.
Too still. Too perfect.
Like the world had drawn him wrong on purpose.

He remembered the curve of Sasuke’s mouth
A mouth too perfect for someone who never smiled.
The way his bottom lip was a little fuller.
The ghost of a smirk that never quite reached his eyes.

How can someone who’s hurt me more than anyone… still be the only person I ever wanted to touch like that?

His hands fisted in the sheets.

It made him feel both alive and gutted. And he hated that.
Hated that when they fought, when their fists connected, it felt more intimate than any touch he’d ever known.

He hated how his heart jumped when he thought about Sasuke’s hair falling over his face.
Hated how he wanted to push it back with his fingers.
Hated that he knew the exact shape of Sasuke’s jaw, how it would feel beneath his palm if he cupped it.

He hated that he didn’t know. That he’d never done it.

That after everything. Wars, losses, vows. He still hadn’t kissed him.

And now he wanted to touch him.

And that was worse.

Because tomorrow… he’d be kissing someone else.

Because how do you admit something like that?

How do you say,
“I think about your hands when I hold hers,”
or “your eyes live in my dreams more than sleep ever does”?

And still, even through the guilt and the ache, he couldn’t stop thinking-
If someone like him could ever look at me the same way.

He wasn’t afraid of loving Sasuke.
Not really.
He was afraid of what it would mean if Sasuke never loved him back.

Sasuke was everything.
And he didn’t even try to be.

His face was always the last thing Naruto saw when he closed his eyes.

A deep, twisting nausea rolled through his gut.
He sat up, rubbed his face, tried to breathe it out.
It didn’t leave.

A breeze slipped through the window, carrying the smell of smoke and festival food.
It should have been comforting, but it only made the room smaller.

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes until the blur of the ceiling stopped spinning. Then suddenly,
A pulse. Familiar. Steady.
A flicker of chakra like the echo of a name he never stopped hearing.

Sasuke.

It was faint, far, soft,but unmistakable. A chakra signature burned into his memory. Heavy. Sharp around the edges. Cold like rainwater.

Before he could talk himself out of it, his head snapped up.
Before he knew it, he was on his feet.
He didn’t bother changing, just grabbed his jacket and shoved his arms through the sleeves like muscle memory.
The sake stayed behind. So did the guilt.

His heartbeat was louder than the fireworks in the distance.

He didn’t know what he’d say.
He just knew he had to see him, one more time before tomorrow made it impossible.

The floor was cold under his feet as he crossed the room.

The moment he stepped outside, the world felt wrong.

Paper cranes hung from window sills, blessings scrawled in childish handwriting trailing from their wings. Lanterns floated above rooftops like stars strung too low. Banners with his name and face boldly hung above every shop, every stall, every alley

Hero of the Leaf.
Seventh Hokage to be.
Tomorrow's groom.
Uzumaki Naruto, our sun.

Streamers curled in the breeze, red and gold and shimmering with someone else’s joy.
Laughter rippled from windows.
Music thrummed down alleyways.
Someone called his name from across the square, he didn’t turn.

It all felt like a joke.

Someone had even carved his face into a melon on display, a crooked smile etched into rind. The air was thick with incense and sugar, laughter spilling from open doorways.

It should have felt like everything he ever wanted.
But as Naruto passed through it, it all rang hollow.

Too loud. Too perfect.
Like a party thrown for someone who’d never been asked what he really wanted.

Somewhere nearby, someone was singing.
Someone was laughing.

Naruto walked like a ghost through it.
He didn’t know exactly where Sasuke was, only that his chakra was calling him and that his feet knew the way.

He kept his hands tucked in his pockets, head bowed just enough to discourage conversation.
But Konoha was small, and smiles came easy these days.

“Hey, Naruto-sama!” A man carrying bags of mochi lifted a hand as he passed. “Can’t wait for tomorrow! Hinata is a lucky girl.”

Naruto forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Thanks,” he muttered.

Another voice, this time from a child running past:
“Are you really getting married in front of the Hokage monument?! My mom says you’re gonna cry.”

He couldn’t help it, his mouth twitched upward. Just for a second.
Then it was gone again.

A banner hung over the road:
Tomorrow: A New Beginning!
Its edges fluttered in the wind like it was clapping for him.

He didn’t look at it. He turned down a quieter street.

The laughter and noise faded behind him.
He kept walking.
Past the market.
Past the light.
He walked faster.

Each step away from the center of the village brought quiet.
No more voices.
No more decorations.
No more congratulations.

Only the moon above, and the memory of a chakra he hadn’t felt in a week, sharp, unmistakable.

The further he went, the colder it turned.

The night air was heavy, sweet with rain and pine. Each step was a lie: he was just checking, just making sure. Nothing more.

The chakra was getting stronger now.
Not urgent. Not flaring. Just steady, like a heartbeat waiting for his.

His feet were guiding him toward the one place untouched by celebration, the old Uchiha shrine.

By the time Naruto reached the outskirts, the shrine rose out of the dark like a memory the village had tried to forget.

He hadn’t been here since before the war.

The air hummed with ghosts and things unsaid. Stones slick with moss, torii half buried under roots.

The Uchiha crest still hung faintly on some of the walls faded, cracked, covered by ivy, but not gone.

Naruto’s heart was restless, pounding, pulling him here like it knew.
Then he saw him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 - Say something, Say anything

The night before the wedding 

(Naruto's POV)

It had been a week.
Seven days since they’d spoken. Since Sasuke looked at him like he was about to say something that mattered and then didn’t.

Now, suddenly, he was there.
Back to him. Moonlight along his shoulders. The hem of his cloak stirring in the wind.

Sasuke stood there, leaning against a weathered column. One leg bent, arms crossed. Lantern light flickered behind him, casting long shadows over the curve of his face.

He looked like part of the ruin.
Like he belonged there more than anywhere else.

When Naruto saw him, leaning against the cracked stone, the air left his lungs in a rush.
Sasuke looked like a memory that wouldn’t fade, delicate and distant and sharp all at once.

He hadn’t changed. Still tall. Still that dark cloak, one sleeve fluttering loose in the wind. His hair was slightly longer, but his face was unreadable, all shadows and silence and the tension of someone who’d lived too long with only ghosts for company.

He didn’t turn, he never did.
His presence was stillness and tension at once, like a storm just waiting to be named.

And Naruto, idiot that he was, couldn’t stop staring.
Couldn’t stop wanting to understand how someone made of scars and silence could look that soft.

The dark fall of his hair. The sharp line of his jaw softened by moonlight. Eyes so deep they felt like gravity.

Naruto used to think beauty was loud, sunlight, fireworks, the kind of brightness you could feel on your skin.

But Sasuke was beautiful in the quiet way that undid him.

Every small thing, his stillness, the faint crease between his brows, the way his lashes caught the light, pressed against Naruto’s heart like a bruise he couldn’t stop touching.

Naruto slowed as he reached him, hands deep in his jacket pockets, kicking up a bit of gravel.
His throat was dry.
The silence stretched between them.

Naruto watched a moth spiral lazily under the shrine’s lantern before speaking.

He told himself he was here out of respect.
He told himself he wasn’t nervous.
Both were lies.

Naruto stopped a few paces back.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sasuke said without turning.

“Could say the same to you,” Naruto answered, softer than he meant. His voice barely carried. “Didn’t think you still came to this place.”

Sasuke’s head tilted, just enough to catch him with one eye.
“Old habits.”

Naruto swallowed. He wanted to laugh, to yell, to shake him for always sounding so calm while Naruto’s chest was chaos.

“You planning on disappearing again?”

Sasuke never stayed long. The village made him restless, all those stares, all that history hanging over him like smoke.

But even knowing that, Naruto hoped maybe this time he’d stay a little longer.
Long enough to feel like home again.

“Tomorrow,” Sasuke said. A pause. “You’re getting married.”

His voice was calm. Unmoved.
Like they were discussing the weather.

Naruto’s breath caught.
“Yeah.”
He cleared his throat. Tried again.
“Big day.”

Sasuke said nothing.

Naruto stared at the back of his head, willing him to see him. He didn’t. So Naruto kept going.
“I’m… looking forward to it.”

The words came out hollow. He knew it.
Sasuke knew it.
They hung in the air like smoke.

He forced a small laugh.
“Crazy, huh?”

Sasuke didn’t answer.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Wind stirred the dry leaves. The shrine creaked softly.

The silence between them was worse than any shouting match.

It was full of all the things they’d never said, things they’d almost died to protect, things they still didn’t have the language for.

Naruto swallowed. His voice felt stuck somewhere unknown.

He wanted to say something. Anything. But there was nothing that didn’t feel like a betrayal.
Not when he was supposed to belong to someone else tomorrow.

His throat felt like it was closing.
Words wouldn’t come out.

Finally, Naruto looked up.
“You’ll come, right? To the wedding.”

Sasuke turned away.
His voice was flat. “We’ll see.”

Naruto tried to laugh, but it came out broken.
“You really are an idiot.”

Sasuke turned and stared at him the way he always had, like he was memorizing the sight before walking into another storm.

They were standing too close, the distance between them shrinking in uneven steps, one drawn forward, the other not moving away.

And when their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them, recognition, surrender, a kind of exhaustion that only love ever leaves behind.

Then Sasuke said his name, quiet, like it meant something
and Naruto’s breath stuttered.

“Take care of yourself,” Sasuke said.

Simple words.
But Naruto heard everything else hiding underneath.

It landed like a goodbye.

Naruto’s stomach twisted. He wanted to scream, to shake him, to stay.

Naruto watched him walk away.

The ache sat heavy, familiar now.
He told himself it was fine.
That Sasuke needed to do this.
That he’d come back.

But the truth was, Naruto was scared.

Scared that when Sasuke was gone, the village would feel empty again.
Scared that maybe, someday, Sasuke would stop coming back at all.

Naruto didn’t move.

He stood there like something had cracked open in his chest. Like his body knew what his heart wouldn’t admit.

The night air was cold, but it wasn’t the kind of cold that went away with a jacket.

He wanted to yell after him.
He wanted to tell him that this bond, whatever it was, wasn’t enough anymore.

He can’t leave.
Not like this.
Not again.

If he let Sasuke walk away now
If he didn’t say anything
He’d carry it.
Into the vows. Into the kiss at the altar. Into every night after that.

It would be Sasuke’s name he swallowed when he would say “I love you.”
It would be Sasuke’s face he saw when he closed his eyes beside Hinata.
It would be Sasuke’s voice he imagined in the dark.

Low. Breathless. Wrecked.

What would Sasuke sound like if he let go?

Not in battle. Not in pain.
But here, between stolen breaths and shared heat.

Would it be sharp and sudden, like his temper?
Or quiet, like everything else he held back?
Would he tremble, just a little, when kissed right? When touched?

He wanted to hear Sasuke moan
The thought of it, what it might sound like 
how his name would fall from that mouth, all cracked open and undone…

Naruto’s jaw clenched.

He didn’t have the right to wonder.
Didn’t have the right to want.
But that didn’t stop the hunger curling deep in his gut, or the way his eyes kept falling to Sasuke’s mouth like it might hold every answer he was too much of a coward to ask.

He wanted to hear it.
Sasuke, breathless. Sasuke, breaking.
Sasuke, his.

Just once.

Even if it ruined everything.

That mouth.
Soft, pale, serious, even now.
What would it taste like, warm against his own? Would Sasuke’s breath catch if Naruto pressed in, tongue brushing just...

He stopped this train of thought, trying to go back to reality.

He shouldn’t want this.
But he did.
He wanted it so bad it hurt.

He blinked, like coming up for air.

Sasuke’s back was already turned again.
The hem of his cloak caught in the wind, a final flicker of him.

And Naruto realized

If he didn’t stop him now, that mouth, those moans would never be anything but imagined.

Say something.
Say anything.
He’s leaving again and you’re just standing here like a coward.

You have to say something now, or you’ll never get the chance again.

The air felt thin.

The words sat heavy on his tongue, but still, nothing.

So his body moved before he could stop it.

Because if he didn’t grab him now, he might lose him for good.

He clenched his fists.

And Naruto, stupid, desperate, tired of pretending, ran after him, fingers trembling as they caught the edge of Sasuke’s cloak.

The fabric was slick with rain, cold against his palm.

“You keep running,” he whispered.

Sasuke’s voice was barely there.
“And you keep chasing.”

“Because I have to.”

Sasuke stopped.
Just for a moment.

And then, he turned. Not all the way. Just enough.
Enough for Naruto to see his face, bathed in silver moonlight and something else, something that looked a little too much like regret.

His mouth parted like he might say something.
But he didn’t.

That was worse.

The silence grew teeth.

That was all it took.
One look.
One heartbeat too long.

And the air shifted.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 - Just Say The Word
 (Naruto’s POV)

The Night Before the Wedding

The moon hung low, silver light pooling around them, making the air thin and electric.

Naruto didn’t move, just stepped close enough that their breaths mingled, just enough to see the faint tremble in Sasuke’s jaw and the quick rise of his chest. The way his fingers curled at his side like he was holding himself together.

Naruto’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Look at me.”

And Sasuke did. Slowly. Like it physically hurt to meet Naruto’s gaze. Like the weight of it might break him.

Naruto didn’t reach for him. Not yet. He just stood there, waiting. He gave Sasuke the space to pull away. He waited, for resistance, for rejection, for a tremor that would shake him loose from this stupid, dangerous gravity.

But Sasuke didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away.
He just looked at Naruto, steady and still, like this was the one truth he wouldn’t run from.

Seconds passed. A breath. Another. Still, he stayed.
Their eyes locked. No more running. No more pretending.
That was all the permission Naruto needed.

He cupped Sasuke’s jaw, like he’d imagined doing a hundred times before.
His hand was steady. His heart wasn’t.

His thumb grazed the curve of Sasuke’s mouth, slow and reverent.
The skin was softer than he expected. Warmer.
Not the cold, distant thing he’d built up in his mind, but real. Alive. His.

His calloused fingertips trembled, suddenly clumsy against that impossible softness.

Naruto’s breath caught. He leaned in again, slower this time, more deliberate, and let his lips brush Sasuke’s lower one before catching it gently between his own.

He sucked on it, soft, wet, unhurried, like he was starving but still afraid to ask for too much.

His voice came low, rough against Sasuke’s mouth.

“Do you like this, Sasuke?”

Sasuke made a sound, something halfway between a breath and a whimper, low in his throat.
His eyes fluttered shut like the answer was too dangerous to speak out loud.

Naruto’s hands found Sasuke’s waist, fingers gripping the back of his cloak like he was drowning in it, like if he let go, everything would disappear.
And for the first time in years, Sasuke let himself be held.

“Sasuke,” he breathed, forehead pressed to his. “Tell me you want me.”

Sasuke’s breath trembled against his mouth.
“I want you,” he whispered.
His voice was thin, raw, almost angry with itself.
“I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

And then Sasuke made a small, broken sound, half gasp, half surrender, and opened his mouth to him.

Their mouths met with a force that startled even them.
Every breath between them felt like a secret.
Every pull and tilt of lips said what they never could:
You. Always you. Only you.

Sasuke’s only hand curled into Naruto’s shirt, dragging him closer until their bodies pressed chest to chest.
Naruto felt the sharp edge of his collarbone, the racing heartbeat underneath.

And when Sasuke broke for air, Naruto didn’t.

He followed.

He was drooling.

He didn’t care.

It slipped from the corner of his mouth as he chased Sasuke’s lips again, desperate, low, unrelenting.
And Sasuke took it. The kiss. The breath. The pressure.

He let Naruto have him.

And that, more than the kiss, was what ruined him.

Naruto moaned into his mouth, fingers tightening in Sasuke’s hair now, tugging just slightly as if to ask don’t run from this.

Sasuke didn’t.

He broke the kiss only to whisper, “Is this okay?”

And Sasuke, who had spent years flinching from touch, just nodded, breathless.
“Don’t stop.”

So he didn’t.

Naruto pressed forward, hips to hips.
Sasuke gasped, sharp, involuntary, his breath catching between them.
Naruto was desperate to feel him. Through the layers. Through the years. Through the silence they’d both tried to survive.

His mouth bruised Sasuke’s with every kiss, uncoordinated, hungry, too full of everything he didn’t know how to say.
And Sasuke let him.

He took the pressure. The need. The weight of it all.

“You’re doing so good,” Naruto whispered, voice shaking. “Let me have you. Just for this.”

His mouth trailed lower, pressing reverent kisses down Sasuke’s throat, then across the sharp line of his Adam’s apple.
It throbbed beneath his lips, and Naruto bit down.

Sasuke gasped. “Oh... Naruto—”

His hand clutched at Naruto’s jacket, twisting in the fabric like he needed something to hold onto or else he’d be swept away.

Sasuke tasted like breathless nights and heartbreak.
Like something Naruto had waited his whole life to touch.

He wanted him.

Not just his mouth. Not just this kiss.

He wanted every version of him.

The boy who left.
The boy who stayed.
The man who stood here now, who looked at him like maybe, just maybe, he could be loved.

The moment their lips broke apart, Naruto was already chasing more.
His eyes were rimmed red, lips swollen from the kiss.

“Sasuke,” Naruto breathed, voice rough and low and trembling at the edges, “I love you.”

It wasn’t a declaration.
It was a confession.

One that had been bleeding out of him for years in every fight, every glance, every time he said come home and meant come to me.

Sasuke didn’t speak.
But he didn’t move either.
Didn’t shut the door Naruto had just kicked wide open.

So Naruto kept going.
His chest was tight, his hands still hovering near Sasuke’s face like he didn’t know whether to hold him or let go.

“I don’t care about anything else,” he said. “The wedding, I’ll stop it. I will. I’ll walk away. I’ll tell everyone. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Still no answer.

But Sasuke was staring at him like he’d never seen him before.
Like he wanted to believe him.
Like he couldn’t let himself.

Naruto stepped closer again, heart racing.
He wasn’t afraid, he was done being afraid.

“You just have to say it,” he whispered. “Say you want me, and I’ll choose you. I’ve always chosen you.”

His voice cracked on that last part.

Because it was the truth.
He would burn it all down if Sasuke asked him to.
The wedding. The image. The village.
All of it.

“I’ll go wherever you go. I’ll build a life with you. Just say it.”

Still nothing.

But something in Sasuke’s eyes flickered, pain, maybe. Or love.

And Naruto, because he couldn’t help it, because his soul was already halfway inside out, said one last thing:

“You don’t even have to love me back. Just please stay.”

He hadn’t meant to say that last part.
It slipped out, bare, aching, too true.

But once it was out there, hanging between them, Naruto couldn’t stop.

“I love you,” he said again, softer this time. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what it meant.”

His hand trembled where it still hovered near Sasuke’s face.
He wanted to touch him again, wanted to bury his face in that stupid cloak and whisper it over and over until Sasuke believed him.

“I’ve waited my whole life for you to look at me like this,” he said. “Just once.”

Sasuke’s eyes didn’t move

“You were always the one,” Naruto whispered. “It was always you. Even when I was too stupid to admit it.”

He laughed once, breathless and broken.
“I thought saving the world would feel better than this. But it doesn’t mean anything if you’re not in it with me.”

He took one last breath.
One last step closer.

“I’m yours, Sasuke. I’ve always been yours.” he said, chest rising too fast, voice breaking like a wave. “But I want you to be mine too.”

“Not just here. Not just tonight. Mine. To come home to. To wake up next to. To fight beside, not just on a battlefield, but in life.”

“Say the word,” he whispered. “Please.”

“I’ll cancel it,” he said, voice shaking. “The wedding. Everything. I’ll walk away. Right now. You just have to say the word.”

Still nothing.

His chest ached.

“Do you hear me? I’m choosing you. I’ll always choose you.”

And when Sasuke still didn’t speak, didn’t run, but didn’t answer, Naruto did the only thing he could.

He dropped to his knees.
Right there in front of him.
Because his legs couldn’t carry this weight anymore.

His hands gripped the hem of Sasuke’s cloak, trembling.
His head bowed slightly, not in shame, but in surrender.

Sasuke’s mouth parted, just a fraction.
But still no sound.

“I’ll give you everything,” Naruto said. “I’ll protect you. Follow you. Love you. I’ll burn the whole world down if that’s what you need. Just...”

His voice cracked.

“Just say something. Say yes. Say no. Just don’t say nothing.”

And still, nothing.

The silence pressed in like stone.

And in it, Naruto finally realized:

Sasuke wasn’t going to say yes.

Sasuke’s POV — The Night Before the Wedding

For one suspended breath, Sasuke let himself feel it.

Naruto’s lips on his.
The heat of his hands.
The closeness. The ache.

It was everything he’d tried to bury. Everything he’d told himself he could survive without.
And now it was here, alive between them.

Naruto pulled back just slightly, just enough to breathe. Their noses brushed.

Then Naruto said it.

“I love you. The wedding, I’ll stop it. I will. I’ll walk away. I’ll tell everyone. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He shouldn’t have said that. Why did he say that?

And Naruto, just kept going, like he hadn’t already shattered him.

“I’ll go wherever you go. I’ll build a life with you. Just say it.”
“You don’t even have to love me back. Just please stay.”

The shrine felt cold suddenly, despite the heat still lingering where Naruto’s hands had touched him.
Where his mouth had been.
Where that kiss, the only one, still burned like a mark on his lips.

He wanted to say yes.

Every muscle in his body screamed for it. Every part of him that had once longed for closeness, for warmth, for a reason to stay

It wanted this.

But Sasuke had never been allowed to want things.
Not without cost.
Not without ruin.

Naruto’s hands trembled where they held his cloak.
His voice had gone hoarse from pleading.

“I’m yours,” Naruto whispered.
“I want you to be mine too.”

Sasuke thought of the war.
Of the blood on his hands.
Of everything Naruto had fought for, still fights for, and how loving Sasuke would only make him bleed in a different way.

Naruto’s hands found his again, smaller now somehow, shaking just enough to notice.

“Please.”

Then, as if the words weren’t enough, he dropped to his knees.
Naruto, the strongest, loudest, most relentless force Sasuke had ever known, kneeling. For him.

“Just say something. Say yes. Say no. Just don’t say nothing.”

Eyes shining with something too pure to deserve what Sasuke was about to do.

Sasuke knelt too, because he couldn’t bear to look down at him, and reached for Naruto’s face.

He swallowed the part of him that wanted to say I love you too.
The part that wanted to fall to the ground and wrap his arms around Naruto and never let go.
Yes, take me.
Yes, let’s leave.
Yes, let’s be selfish for once.

His thumb traced the corner of Naruto’s mouth, where that kiss still lingered.
He didn’t speak right away.

Because if he spoke, he’d break.

But he had to.
He had to be the one to break first.

“Naruto,” he said quietly. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Naruto met his eyes, unwavering. “Yes I do.”

Sasuke shook his head. “You think love is enough. But it’s not.”

He let his hand fall away.

“You deserve peace. You deserve everything you dreamed about. A family. A future. The title you fought for. You’re already holding it in your hands.”

“I don’t care,” Naruto whispered.

“I do.”
“Tomorrow you’ll wake up and realize what you almost gave up.”

Sasuke stood.

His chest ached in a way that felt fatal.

“Marry her,” he said, not looking down. The words tasted like poison. Like rot. Like something pulled from the deepest, ugliest part of him.

“No.”

“Marry her,” Sasuke repeated, this time with steel in his voice. “Be Hokage. Give the village what it needs. You’ve worked too hard to have the life I could never give you.”

Naruto’s voice cracked. “What I need is you.”

He reached for Sasuke’s hand. Kissed the knuckles. Held it against his cheek like it could anchor him back to the earth.

“Don’t do this.”
“Why won’t you just let me love you?”

And Sasuke
Sasuke couldn’t answer.

Because the truth was, love wasn’t enough.

Not if it meant dragging Naruto into the dark with him.
Not if it meant tainting the only good thing he had left.

So he stepped back.

Not far. But enough.

Naruto looked up, eyes wide, breath shallow.
Sasuke looked at him, really looked at him, and almost gave in.

Don’t say yes.
Don’t say yes.

His body was already leaning forward.

But he stopped himself.

Because if he gave in now, he’d never let go.
And Naruto wouldn’t walk away, not until it was too late to fix what loving Sasuke would destroy.

So he straightened.

And reached for the one weapon he’d never used against him before:

His voice.

“I’m marrying Sakura.”

The words left his mouth before he could think about how they would sound.
Even as he heard them, part of him wanted to snatch them back out of the air.

Naruto went still.

Sasuke felt the change, the warmth between them vanish, replaced by a cold he’d created.
The silence stretched.

Sasuke wanted to speak again, to explain, to tell him that he didn’t want to.
That he only said it because he was weak, because he couldn’t think of another way to save him from a life that would keep breaking under the weight of both of them.

He’d said the one thing guaranteed to stop Naruto.
And it worked.

Naruto’s hands slipped from his cloak.
The absence of that touch hurt more than any wound he’d taken in battle.

“You’ll forget me,” he said. “You’ll find peace. You’ll be happy.”

Inside, he could feel it already: a crack running through every reason he’d ever had for leaving, for staying alive, for trying to change.

When Naruto finally stood up, eyes dazed and wet, Sasuke turned before he could see the way his own hand trembled at his side.

And if Naruto kept looking at him like that, he’d say it.
He’d say I love you too.
He’d say take me.
He’d stay.

Keep walking, he told himself.
Don’t look back. If you do, you’ll go to him. You’ll ruin him.

And for the second time in his life

He walked away from the only person who ever made him feel whole.

He didn’t let himself look back.
Because if he did

He wouldn’t leave at all.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 - The ceremony

Morning of the wedding

(Naruto’s POV)

Naruto didn’t remember waking up.

One moment, it was still dark.
The next, he was lying on clean sheets with yesterday echoing in his mouth.

He wasn’t crying. He thought he would be.
But his body felt quiet. Empty. Like someone had wrung the tears out already.

He hadn’t meant to think about it again.
But it came back in flashes , like muscle memory.

Sasuke’s mouth.
The way he folded into him.
The tremor in his breath when Naruto pulled him closer.

What’s he doing now? Is he thinking about me?

He stood in front of the mirror, half swallowed by black silk.
The ceremonial kimono hung off his shoulders , heavy with embroidered symbols he barely recognized.

It didn’t feel like tradition.
It felt like a costume.
Like a lie dressed in haori.

He was supposed to be thinking about Hinata.
About the wedding.
About duty, family, peace.

But all he could see was Sasuke.
All he could feel was the ghost of his lips.

He closed his eyes.

And saw himself kissing the pale column of Sasuke’s throat, dragging his mouth down , slow, reverent , until he tasted him.

He hadn’t just wanted to kiss him.

He’d wanted to keep him.
To learn every scar, every inch of soft skin hidden beneath that armor of silence.

He wondered what Sasuke’s nipples would feel like under his tongue.
Soft, maybe. Sensitive.

He wanted to know what would make him gasp.
What would make him melt.
Would he pull Naruto closer, or just let himself be undone?

If he’d flinch.
Or arch into it.

He wanted that reaction , his reaction.
Wanted to be the only one who got to see Sasuke fall apart.

His lips still tingled.
Not from pressure.

Just memory.

The way Sasuke’s breath caught when he gave in.
The way he didn’t pull away.
The way his hand curled into Naruto’s shirt like he never wanted to let go.

That moment kept replaying.
Slower each time.
Quieter.

Naruto’s throat was dry.
He bit his tongue before the groan could escape.

Because this wasn’t the time.
This wasn’t allowed.

The heat in Naruto’s chest cracked into something else.

Maybe he doesn’t love me.
Maybe he never did.

Because if he did , if he felt even half of what Naruto felt last night 
he wouldn’t have said to go through with this.

He wouldn’t have looked at Naruto like he was the only thing in the world that ever made sense…
and then told him to give himself to someone else.

That’s not what love looks like.
Is it?

Or maybe..
maybe that’s exactly what it looks like.

Maybe love isn’t the fireworks and the kisses and the trembling hands.

Maybe it’s this:
Letting go.
Walking away.
Watching the person you want marry someone else , because you told them to.

He said I’d regret not marrying her.
That she loves me.
That I deserve a life he can’t give me.

But didn’t he hear me?

I don’t want a life without him.

I would’ve chosen him.
I did choose him.

I would’ve taken the silence.
The walls.
The wandering.

I would’ve taken all of it just to keep him.
I would’ve fought.
I would’ve stayed.
I would’ve thrown everything else away.

But he didn’t want to be kept.

He kissed me like I was everything.
Maybe that was the point.
Maybe he only did it because he knew it was goodbye.
Maybe he came to make sure I wouldn’t stay.

Maybe that was his way of saying no , without having to say it.

I’m such an idiot.

I thought love was enough.

But if he loved me, really loved me , wouldn’t he have stayed?
Wouldn’t he have said, don’t go?

Why kiss me at all? Why?

How am I supposed to live with that?

He was still asking the question when the world answered with silence.
Then-

There was a knock at the door.

He didn’t answer it.

Someone opened it anyway.

A quiet voice spoke his name , respectful, distant.

“Naruto-sama. It’s time to get ready.”

He stood there for a moment, in front of the mirror, staring at the floorboards.
Fingers ghosted over the skin where Sasuke had touched him.

He let his hand fall.

The sun had crept higher , light spilling through the shōji screens.

He rubbed his thumb against his palm.
His skin felt clean. Scrubbed.
But not his.

They came in twos. Silent and professional.

He didn’t know their names. Didn’t ask.
They moved around him with practiced ease . Adjusting, folding, layering.
As if he were a doll to be dressed for display.

The ceremonial montsuki haori was draped over his shoulders, black silk catching the light.

Layers of black and white.
Silk and creases.
Lifted. Folded. Arranged.

He raised his arms when told. Lowered them when guided.

They smoothed the sleeves. Tied the obi.
The fabric was cold at first , then heavy.

The crest of the Uzumaki clan had been hand stitched in silver thread across the back.

A hakama was tied around his waist.
He didn’t even look down at it.

“Perfect,” someone murmured.
“The Hokage-to-be should look composed.”

Naruto nodded.

The word Hokage felt foreign on his skin.

He flexed his fingers once.
Twice.
As if to remind himself they still worked.

Keep moving, he thought. Don’t stop moving.

Because if he stopped, the weight in his chest might drag him to the floor.

One of them said something about the sleeves being long.
Another chuckled softly, something about how handsome he looked, how proud the village would be.

Naruto nodded when expected.

His mouth stayed closed.

A knee touched the floor behind him as someone adjusted the hem, smoothing it to fall perfectly just above the sandals waiting by the door.

The room felt full, though no one said another word.
Only the quiet rustle of silk.
The faint scrape of a comb through his hair.

The whole room smelled like steam and starch and polished wood.

It smelled like nothing.

Someone handed him a small lacquered mirror , to check his hair.

He didn’t take it.

Another person ran a fine toothed comb through his bangs, pushing them back slightly.

Cleaner, they said.
More appropriate.
More future Hokage like.

He stared into the mirror like it might give him an answer.

Would Sasuke be here?
It wasn’t that he expected him to.
It was that he wanted him to, in a way that made no sense now that everything was supposed to be settled.
Just so they could be in the same place together.
Was he still waiting?

There was no answer.
Just a reflection of himself everyone wanted to see:
Steady.
Clothes perfect.
Face calm.
Presentable.

Nothing like the boy who’d knelt in the dark hours before.

It wasn’t a lie.

It was worse than a lie.

It was a man getting married to a village instead of the person he wanted.

A final bow.
A final check.
A final smile from someone he didn’t know.

When they finished, one attendant stepped back to admire their work.

“You’re ready now.”

Naruto nodded again.
His mouth remembered how.

His hands remembered what it felt like to hold Sasuke’s face.
But that memory had no place here.

He glanced down at his hands , steady, empty , then to the door, where light pooled across the threshold.

He was ready.

Or close enough to pass for it.

He was led to the door, then slid it open.

And for a second, Naruto thought of Sasuke again.
Of how the moonlight caught on his lashes.
Of how Naruto had wanted more , wanted everything.

A need so deep it could have broken him.

He still wants it.
He still wants him.

Even now.

Especially now.

Then Sasuke’s words came back to him:

Be Hokage. Give the village what it needs.

“I’m marrying Hinata.”
It sounded fake even in his own head.

He took a breath.
Stepped forward.

The door slid shut behind him.

Outside, the sun had risen fully.
The air was bright and clean , heavy with incense and bright with banners, almost sharp against his skin.

The village was awake.
Alive with joy that didn’t seem to belong to him.

And the mountain was already watching.

The Hokage monument loomed in the distance, carved faces catching the sunlight.

Villagers were setting up lanterns.
Garlands hung between pillars.
The elders whispered about legacy.

The Hokage‑to‑be was expected to smile, today of all days.

His hands stayed loose at his sides, fingers brushing the seams of the hakama with every step.
The montsuki sleeves dragged along his arms like a sentence.
Even the white sandals felt too loud when he stepped outside.

He kept walking. One foot after the other.

He stood beneath the monument.
Beneath the faces carved into the stone,  men who had led the village, protected it, died for it.

And now, he was joining them.
Not on the mountain.
But in sacrifice.

This was the altar.
A raised platform beneath fluttering fabric , white banners cut with the fire symbol, draped like clouds above the stage.
Flowers had been placed in matching rows along the aisle.

Everything was perfect.
Too perfect.

A gust of wind fluttered the paper charms above them. He watched one twist until it tore.

He knew he should feel something.
Joy. Gratitude. Relief. Anything.
But there was only a strange hum in his ears , like the world had gone underwater.

He saw his reflection in a polished bronze tray someone offered incense from.
He didn’t recognize the man staring back.

The last time he’d seen himself reflected, it was in Sasuke’s eyes , just before the kiss.
He’d looked alive then.

Hinata stood before him in pale lilac silk, soft and trembling.
He stared at the flower woven into her dark hair , soft and pale.
Barely pink.

That shade.
That exact color.
The same as Sasuke’s skin beneath the moonlight.

The pink on the flower was delicate. Gentle.
But on Sasuke, it had felt like something wild.
Something sacred.

The elder was speaking. His voice low and steady.
Words Naruto had heard in practice and forgotten the second they left his mouth.

He nodded when he was supposed to.
Smiled when eyes found him.

“Your hands,” Hinata whispered, her voice barely audible. “They’re shaking.”

Naruto blinked down at their joined hands , warm, smaller than his, familiar.

But his mind had slipped somewhere else.

Another hand.
Another warmth.
A rougher hold.

Sasuke’s hand, pulling him out of battle, pushing him away in anger, touching him once like it meant everything.

You’re not supposed to think about him here.
Not now. Not in front of her. Not when you’re holding her hand.

He felt like a missing piece slotted into someone else’s ceremony.
He looked like he belonged here.
He knew that.

But nothing inside him agreed.

He held her hand tighter , because if he let go, he wasn’t sure he’d still be there.

The elder began to speak again.
Said the traditional words.

Naruto bowed when expected.
He didn’t remember how deep.

He spoke because he had to.
Because everyone was watching.
Because the robe weighed so much more when you were the one meant to wear the hat next.

Beside him, Hinata’s voice was soft and steady.
She moved like someone who had dreamed of this moment.

Naruto hadn’t dreamed of it at all.

The san san kudo cups were placed between them , three sake vessels, each smaller than the last.

He reached for the smallest cup.
His hand didn’t shake.
He drank. Three sips. Ritual. Practiced.

Hinata followed. Graceful. Gentle.
She smiled, just slightly.

He could barely look at her.

Not because she wasn’t kind. Or beautiful.

But because, for half a breath 
the first time her lips touched the rim of the cup 
Hinata’s face shifted.

Black hair.
Sharper lines.
The impossible softness in those dark eyes.

It was Sasuke standing there.
It had to be.
Black cloak instead of silk. One hand at his side. Lips already parted.

Then the vision flickered.
Hinata again. Tears in her eyes.

He tasted sake now.
And rain.
And memory.

He remembered the taste of him.

He lifted the second cup.
Three more sips.

He remembered last night , there had been a ritual then, too.

Not of marriage.
But of devotion.
Of choosing.

Inside, he was still kneeling.
Still in that shrine, holding the echo of a kiss that had meant everything.
Still holding Sasuke’s face, whispering I love you.

Sasuke had let him in , just once.
Just enough to leave a mark on his soul.

And now here he was, playing husband beneath a mountain,
while the only person he wanted still stood in the shadow of it.

Someone clapped politely. The crowd shifted.
A flash of Iruka’s face in the front row , eyes soft, proud.

“I’m proud of you.”

Naruto swallowed.

The sake burned a little.
Or maybe that was guilt.
Because Iruka didn’t even know what he’d done.
What he’d said.
What he’d wanted.

The final cup.
Three last sips.

He was almost done.

He wondered if Sasuke had felt anything
when the mountain turned gold with morning light.
If he’d looked out across the rooftops and thought :

I should’ve stopped him.

Did Sasuke watched the ceremony from afar ?

He hoped not.

He hoped he hadn’t seen what it looked like when someone gave their body to a life they didn’t choose.

The crowd cheered.

The chant of the people  blurred into the rhythm of footsteps from the night before , gravel under sandals, two people walking away instead of toward.

Someone rang a bell.

Naruto turned.
He smiled.

And wondered , as the elder pronounced them married 
how many people realized that the real wedding had already happened.

This was a second ceremony.
An afterimage.
A hollow re-enactment of last night.

It had happened in silence.
In shadow.
In secret.

At a different altar.
One where only two people stood.

And one of them said goodbye.
And the other one never left.

(Sasuke’s POV)

Morning of the wedding

The first light of dawn touched the village rooftops when he stepped outside. The air smelled of smoke and celebration , of beginnings he had no part in.

He didn’t go.

He couldn’t go to the wedding.

Not because he didn’t want to see Naruto , but because he did.

Because he knew what would happen if he did.

He'd imagine Naruto in those formal robes, hands folded, smile tight around the edges. And all Sasuke would see was himself in her place , just for a second.

He told himself he was leaving for peace, to protect Naruto from scandal, from rumors, from the weight of association. He told himself Naruto’s path needed to stay clean, untangled from the wreckage of what they almost were.

That was the decision he’d made the night before, when Naruto kissed him like it was both a beginning and an ending.

There was no point in watching what came after.

He reached the village gates just as the sun broke the horizon. The guards were asleep. Konoha was quiet.

He thought about turning back. For one heartbeat, he actually did , one step in reverse, one breath held:

You should’ve stayed.
You should’ve told him.
You should’ve—

He turned forward again. Kept walking. Closed his eyes and forced the thoughts away.

Every step away from the village felt like a betrayal.
And yet the farther he went, the easier it was to breathe.

He told himself he was sparing Naruto the pain. That this was mercy. That peace demanded sacrifice.

He didn’t believe a word of it.

He stopped on a ridge above Konoha. The sun caught the Hokage Monument, turning it gold.

He could hear the bells when they rang, soft and distant from beneath the rock.
The sound carried across the village like something mocking him.
Too pure for what it marked.

The sky was too bright.

Everything was too bright.

He tried to picture it: Naruto in formal robes, smiling.

The image came too easily.
And it hurt worse than he expected.

He told himself this was justice , that people like him didn’t get to want things.

Not after what he’d done.

But the thought wouldn’t silence.

It should’ve been me.

He hadn’t meant to kiss him back.
But he had.

And he wanted it again.

Not just the kiss.
Not just the fire of it.

The safety of it.

Sasuke’s fingers drifted from his lips to his jaw, tracing the path Naruto’s hand had taken,  across his cheek, down to the base of his throat.

He closed his eyes.

He wanted Naruto’s hands on his skin.
Not to take,  but to hold.

To map every scar and whisper, mine.

He wanted to be undone.

He wanted Naruto to strip him of all that armor.
To drag his mouth down and taste every broken place.
To take the part of him that still believed he could be loved  and make it real.

The scent of smoke drifted from the village, mingled with flowers.

He remembered Naruto’s hands, the warmth of them, the way they shook when he’d reached up to touch Sasuke’s face last night.

He’d told Naruto to marry her.
To build the life he deserved.

But all Sasuke could see was that moment, years ago, when he’d thrown his body in front of Haku’s attack.

Before the war.
Before the exile.

Before he even understood why his chest tightened whenever Naruto smiled.

He remembered the needles piercing his skin.
The weight of Naruto’s voice screaming his name.
The cold. The blood. The surprise.

He’d moved before he could think , stepped between Naruto and death like it was instinct.

The strange calm that came with knowing he’d done the right thing.

Because even then 
before the war, before the exile, before he knew what love really was 

He’d already chosen him.

And now?

Now Naruto stood down there in ceremonial robes, bowing his head for vows he didn’t believe in.
Promising himself to a future Sasuke had forced him into.

I would’ve died for you, he thought.
I did.

But now… he was doing something worse.

Letting him go.
Letting Naruto walk into a life where he doesn’t exist.

He didn’t flinch at the idea of loving a boy. That would almost be too easy.

He’s defied the world before. Faced its judgment. Spat it back.
The rules of who to love felt small next to the weight of his sins.

Loving a man wouldn’t shame him. Not after everything he’s already done.

It was loving Naruto that was unbearable.

Because Naruto dismantles him.
He looks at him like he’s still salvageable , like the boy who killed his brother and betrayed his village could somehow still belong somewhere.

And Sasuke knows he shouldn’t want that.

Redemption isn’t supposed to feel this warm.

He hates how Naruto makes everything simple , even when it shouldn’t be.
How he smiles like forgiveness is instinct, not choice.
How that smile follows Sasuke into every exile.
How it still burns behind his eyelids when he closes his eyes at night.

He’s supposed to crave silence. Solitude. Clarity.
But he finds himself craving Naruto’s voice instead , the reckless laughter, the impossible persistence.

The life that radiates out of him.

Loving a boy would just mean breaking one rule.
Loving Naruto means rewriting his entire nature.
It means letting his heart want something pure.

And he doesn’t know if he deserves that kind of wanting.

He can’t hate Naruto, but he tries.

Every time he walks away.
Every time he convinces himself he’s above it.
Every time he whispers it’s not him, it’s not him , just to see if the ache listens.

But it never does.

He’d memorized the taste , the soft sound Naruto made when their foreheads touched.
And now, every time he closed his eyes, that memory replaced the ceremony he refused to see.

He told himself he stayed away for Naruto’s sake.
For his peace.
For his future.

But that was a lie.

He stayed away because if he saw him promise his life to someone else 
he wasn’t sure he’d keep standing.

The bells grew louder. Then quieted.

He looked down at his hand , his single arm.

A reminder of his sins.
Of how much he had hurt the person he loved most.

His hand was steady now.

Dead steady.

He thought of Sakura , of what she’d given. What he’d taken.
Maybe he could fix a small part of it.
Maybe giving her a life was a way to pay a debt.

He almost convinced himself that was reason enough.

Almost.

But when the last echo of the bells faded, the truth came back , cold and unrelenting:

He had never learned how to love gently.
Only completely.

And he had already given everything to Naruto.

He sat by the river, eyes open but unseeing.
The world was too bright. Too quiet.

He picked up a flat stone. Turned it over in his palm.

He remembered the old arguments.
The bruises.
The bleeding knuckles.
The way Naruto never stopped reaching for him , even when he should have.

It was that same pull now. Quiet, but relentless.

He threw the stone.

It skipped once. Twice. Then sank.

He wanted to be angry.
Anger was easier.

But what settled in his chest wasn’t rage , it was something raw.
A hollow kind of grief for a thing that had never been allowed to exist.

His mind had left hours ago.

Left him in that shrine.

Back in front of Naruto.

Back in the moment he said the only words that could make him let go.

I’m marrying Sakura.
I’m marrying Sakura.
I’m-

He pressed his palm against his forehead. Hard.

It didn’t make it stop.

Now Naruto was gone.
Married.
Crowned.
Buried under duty and names that didn’t belong to Sasuke.

“Idiot,” he muttered under his breath , though he wasn’t sure who he meant.

Chapter Text

 Chapter 7 - The Day That Peace Arrived

13 Years later.

(Naruto's POV)

Naruto never showed up to his own inauguration.

At least, not really.

To the crowd gathered below the Hokage monument, he was there , tall, smiling, resplendent in the ceremonial white cloak.

But it wasn’t him.

It was Konohamaru, henge’d to perfection, standing in his place while Naruto lay motionless on the floor of his bedroom.
Eyes closed. Breath steady. Faking unconsciousness so well that even Hinata had believed it.

Shikamaru hadn’t.

When he came to check, Naruto cracked one eye open and whispered, "Tell Kakashi-sensei I got knocked out. Say it was the Byakugan. It’ll make sense."

Shikamaru had sighed. Deeply. Said nothing.
Then left the room without another word.

Naruto stayed still.
Stayed still while the cheers rang through the village.
Stayed still while Hinata whispered something soft by his bedside that he pretended not to hear.
He stayed still while Konohamaru gave the speech in his voice, while the village roared 
his name echoing down from the monument like they were cheering for a ghost.

Because he couldn’t go.

Not to that , the dream that had come true.

The white Hokage cloak looked too much like a funeral shroud.
And maybe that’s what this was: the burial of everything else he’d ever wanted.

The hat was his. The village was safe. Peace was real.

But Naruto had never felt more alone.

Hinata didn’t ask who had attended the ceremony in his place.

She never asked much anymore.

She’d sat beside him that evening with a soft smile and warm tea, talking about his expectations now that he was Hokage.

Naruto had nodded.
He always nodded.

She poured his tea with both hands , the proper way. A sign of respect, of care.
He watched the steam rise and wondered what it would take for her to see him beneath it.

Hinata didn’t see it. Not really. Not him.
She looked at him like a statue. Like an idea.
Like the boy she’d fallen in love with was still standing there, grinning in orange and saying believe it.

But Naruto had grown up.
And parts of him had gone missing in the process.

He wanted to tell her. So many times. That he felt like a ghost in his own life.
That every time she touched his shoulder, it felt like she was reaching through him , for someone long gone.

But Hinata didn’t want a confession.
She wanted consistency.

So he gave it to her. Quiet dinners. Polite words. Shared parenting schedules.
A smile when the neighbors passed by.

He was good at playing the man they thought he was.

But sometimes, when she spoke , when she praised him, when she smiled like everything was fine ,he’d think of Neji.
Of that cursed seal burned into his forehead.

The mark the Hyūga branded their own with.
And how they still used it.

Even now. Even after everything.

She was the heiress. She could’ve done something. She should’ve done something.
But she didn’t.

Maybe she thought that was just how things were.
Maybe she believed the system could stay the same, as long as the people at the top were kind.

But kindness wasn’t the same as justice.

And Naruto was starting to realize he’d spent years mistaking the two.

He’d think about control.
About tradition.
About what people allowed to happen in the name of duty.

And he’d wonder what part of his own soul had been marked the day he put on the Hokage cloak.

He didn’t hate her.
He didn’t love her, either.

She was kind. Beautiful. Loyal.

But she didn’t know the things he dreamed about.
Didn’t know that when she blushed , when that pink bloomed across her cheeks , it reminded him of someone else's lips.

And he hated himself for thinking it.

But he thought it all the same.

A life had been stolen from him.
Not all at once. But piece by piece.
Every choice that looked right on paper. Every sacrifice they praised.
Every time he told himself it was worth it.

Until one day he woke up married, promoted, celebrated ,  and starving.

And even when the day ended, the performance didn’t.
He stepped off no stage. No curtains closed.
Just another meal, another silence, another part of himself left untouched.

Dinner was quiet.

It usually was.

The silence wasn’t peaceful. Not like it used to be, back when life was full of yelling, of laughter, of someone calling him an idiot.

Boruto pushed rice around his plate while Hima chatted softly about the ninja academy.
Naruto nodded in the right places. Smiled when it seemed expected.

Hinata placed another helping of vegetables in front of him.
"You barely touched your plate, Naruto-kun. Are you tired?"

"Mm," he answered, noncommittal. "Long day."

Even the miso smelled bland tonight. Or maybe he just did.

She smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Well, I’m just glad you’re okay. Boruto and Hima told me what happened , they were fighting over that stuffed bear again, and Hima accidentally hit your tenketsu point."

She said it like it was ordinary.
Like getting knocked out by a ten-year-old was just part of family life now.

"Honestly, I’m proud she managed to activate her Byakugan without training."

Naruto nodded.
He always nodded.

But part of him paused.

Neji had struck him with the gentle fist during the Chūnin Exams. Repeatedly. Precisely. Brutally.
And he hadn’t gone down once.

Hinata had watched those matches. She knew the technique.
She knew what it did , and what it didn’t do.

And still, she believed it. That their daughter , barely trained, barely ten , could knock him unconscious.

Because it was easier.
Easier to believe that lie than ask why he hadn’t shown up.
Easier to trust the story the children told than confront what he might’ve chosen.

He didn’t blame her. Not really.
But it stayed with him anyway.

"You should rest more," she said, pouring tea into his cup. "Now that you’re Hokage, you’ll need your energy."

Naruto looked down at the steam curling from the cup.

He wanted to tell her the truth , that he was already thinking of using shadow clones to eat dinner in his place.
That paperwork was piling up faster than he could manage.
That it had barely been a day, and already, being Hokage was swallowing him whole.

But more than that , he wanted the excuse.

He didn’t say any of it.

"I’ll try," he said.

Hinata smiled, warm and proud. "We’re proud of you. All of us."

Boruto didn’t look up.
He hadn’t in a while.
Lately, he only looked when Naruto wasn’t there.

Naruto chewed, slowly. Swallowed.

He thought about how strange it was, that everything he’d ever wanted had finally arrived , it was there right in front of him
and still, some part of him kept searching the room for something that wasn’t there.

And Naruto thought, maybe next time, he’d let the clone get hit instead.

The dishes were cleared. The lights dimmed.
Hima fell asleep first, curled against a stuffed bear like nothing had ever happened.
Boruto followed after, door closing with the same soft defiance he’d started to carry in his voice.

Naruto stayed behind to rinse the cups.
He always did.

By the time he slipped into the bedroom, the silence had thickened , not peaceful, but padded, like sound itself had decided not to bother.

The room was warm.

Too warm.

Steam from the bathroom lingered in the air, curling in soft lines above the floorboards like forgotten chakra.
Silk sheets covered the bed,  his and Hinata’s. Their matrimonial bed, in name more than anything else.

Naruto sat on the edge of it, the Hokage cloak draped over a chair , a soft white weight he couldn’t bear to fold.
It looked cleaner than it should have. Like it hadn’t touched the dirt he’d crawled through to get here.

Hinata was in the room, humming faintly as she combed out her hair.

He stared down at his hands.

They were clean. Steady. Strong.

And completely useless.

Hinata sat beside him, touched his arm gently.

Her robe was soft blue. Her hair shimmered like ink in moonlight.

"I’m glad," she said softly. "You’re finally Hokage. Everything you ever wanted came true."

Naruto nodded.
He just nodded and let her lie down beside him.

He thought about telling her. Just once. About how tired he really was. About what the hat had cost him.
But the words died in his throat , like they always did.

She reached for his hand beneath the covers. He let her hold it.

It didn’t twitch.

It didn’t move.

It just sat there, warm and numb, holding nothing back , because there was nothing left to hold.

She finally fell asleep beside him, curled on her side, her back facing him, breath slow and steady.
Peaceful. Not kissed. Not held. Not missed.

The ceremony had been perfect, they’d said.
Beautiful. A new beginning.
The whole village had come out to cheer the Seventh Hokage , the man everyone saw, not the one lying awake now.

Naruto ran a hand down his face.
His other hand was still clenched into the mattress.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He didn’t even know what he meant by it.
The words felt far away. Like someone else’s thought.

Naruto was supposed to feel peace. Completion.
Where everything was supposed to fall into place.
Where the war ended for good.
Where he slept beside someone who loved him , really loved him.

So why did it feel like he was still bleeding?

Hinata shifted slightly.
She didn’t wake.

And that made it worse somehow , how easy it was for her to be here.
How easy it would be to reach out , to hold her.

But his hands didn’t move toward her.

They moved the other way.

To the empty space behind him.

Slow. Barely a breath of movement. Fingers outstretched.

He reached back , just a few inches ,  like something in him expected to feel skin.
The ghost of a pulse.
A presence he’d only held once but memorized instantly.

But there was nothing there.

Just air.
Still. Cold.

Sasuke wasn’t here.

He never would be.

And that was the worst part.

Because Naruto still remembered that kiss. Thirteen years ago.

He’d felt Sasuke lean into it , not by accident, not out of shock, but because he’d wanted to.

And Naruto had wanted more.

He closed his fingers around the nothingness behind him, gripping it like he could will it into being.

"Please," he whispered into the dark.
No one heard.

Hinata stirred softly, adjusting her pillow.

Naruto turned back around.

He didn’t touch her.

Just stared at the wall.
Still.
As if the real him had never shown up at all.

Chapter Text