Sasuke is not doing well.
He's lying in Itachi's guest room, staring at the ceiling. His body feels heavy, but he can't rest. His mind won't stop. His chest feels tight, like something is pressing against it from the inside.
He thinks about the last twenty-four hours. About how everything feels different now. Fragile. Wrong. Like the ground under him has shifted just enough that he can't find balance anymore.
He's scared.
He remembers leaving that hotel room, his head spinning, breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat. The way the air had burned when he stepped outside, too cold, too bright.
He doesn't remember calling Itachi, only that he must have, because Itachi came.
Itachi picked him up, and brought him here. Sasuke vaguely remembers sitting on the sofa, listening to his brother's soothing voice, who, for once, didn't try to reason with him.
And now he's here. In this room that smells like laundry detergent and dust, pretending he's okay.
He'd wanted to go home. He'd said it. He wanted to see Sarada, to tell her goodnight, to see with his own eyes that she was safe. But Itachi told him not to. Told him that she shouldn't see him like this. That she shouldn't see her father breaking.
And Sasuke had listened.
Because he knew Itachi was right. Because even now, even as the guilt eats through his ribs, he knows that Sarada deserves better than this.
It is strange how in the last few months, that bond between them has become his anchor. They've always been close, but something changed. Maybe it's her growing up, maybe it's him growing older. Maybe they both learned to see each other as people, not just family. She had softened him in ways he didn't expect. Given him purpose again.
She deserves a father who can keep himself together.
So he is trying.
He sighs and turns on his side. He closes his eyes.
He can still see Naruto.
He wishes he couldn't.
The look in his eyes, the heat in his skin, the way his voice broke when he said his name. It doesn't leave him. None of it does. It replays, over and over, until it's just noise and breath and guilt.
He shouldn't have kissed him.
He shouldn't have wanted to.
But he did. And the worst part is that Naruto wanted it too. That he'd kissed back like he'd been waiting for it, like he'd missed him, like it meant something.
And maybe it did.
Sasuke bites the inside of his cheek.
He can still feel the tremor in Naruto's hands. The way he'd held on, too tightly. The way he'd looked at him when he pulled away, like he couldn't believe he was real.
He knows that look. He's seen it before, in the mirror. It's the look of someone who's lost everything and just found something they can't bear to lose.
And Sasuke can't give him that. He can't be that.
So he ran.
And now he's here. In this room that doesn't feel like his own, with a brother who knows too much and a life that doesn't make sense.
He wants to go home.
He wants to see his daughter.
He wants to sleep without dreaming of Naruto.
It's too much.
Married.
Sasuke had seen the call, the name on the screen, and his world had tilted. Hinata.
Of course.
Because that's how it always goes, doesn't it? He gives in, and he ruins everything.
Sasuke buries his face in his hands. The air feels too thick. He can't breathe right. His heart hammers against his ribs, a frantic, trapped thing. How is he supposed to go back? How is he supposed to look Naruto in the eye, knowing what he knows, knowing what he's done? How is he supposed to pretend everything's fine? How is he supposed to be fine?
How is he supposed to unfeel this?
He is not a good man.
This isn't a new realization. He's always known. He has always been selfish, and angry, and broken. He has hurt people. Hurt his family, not with his hands, but with his absence.
But he has never been this.
He has never kissed a married man.
He has never felt his heart break over it.
The guilt is a physical thing. A rock in his gut. He tries to remember what Itachi said, something about forgiveness, something about moving forward, but the words are a distant hum. All he can hear is the sound of Naruto's breathing, the feel of his hands, the weight of it all.
He should have been stronger.
But he's not. He's weak, and he's lonely, and he misses him. And that's the worst part. That even now, with the guilt and the shame, he misses him. He misses him in a way that makes him ache, in a way that makes him want to crawl out of his own skin. He misses him like a limb, a phantom pain where something used to be.
The knock on the door is soft.
"Sasuke?"
Itachi. Of course, it's Itachi. Who else would it be? He's been checking on him every hour, like he's a child who might break. Maybe he is. Maybe he's already broken.
Sasuke doesn't answer. He just pulls the blanket up to his chin. He doesn't want to talk. He doesn't want to be seen.
The door opens anyway. Itachi's always been like that. He doesn't wait for permission. He just steps inside, quiet as a ghost, and sits on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips with his weight. Sasuke feels it, but he doesn't move.
"I brought you some tea," Itachi says, his voice soft. "And a sandwich. You need to eat."
Sasuke doesn't want tea. He doesn't want a sandwich. He wants to be left alone. But he doesn't say that. He just stays there, curled up under the blanket, like if he stays still enough, he might disappear.
Itachi doesn't push. He just puts the tray on the nightstand. The clink of ceramic against wood is loud in the quiet room. For a moment, there's just silence. The kind of thick, heavy silence that feels like it might suffocate him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Itachi asks finally. It's the same question he's been asking since he found him. And Sasuke has been giving him the same answer.
No.
But this time, for some reason, the word gets stuck in his throat.
He takes a shaky breath.
"I'm gonna pull myself together," he says instead. The words are rough, unfamiliar. He sounds like a stranger to himself. "It's already afternoon. I need to go get Sarada. I need to be... I need to be her father."
Itachi is quiet for a moment. Sasuke can feel his eyes on him, that intense, knowing gaze that has always made him feel like a child.
"You are," Itachi says, his voice gentle. "You are her father. This doesn't change that."
Sasuke's throat tightens. He wants to believe him. He wants to believe that he can be the man his daughter needs, the man he's been trying to be for years. But it feels like a lie.
"I'm not a good man," he whispers. The confession feels heavy, like it's been sitting in his chest for years, waiting to get out.
"Good men do bad things, Sasuke," Itachi says, and his voice is so kind it hurts. "It doesn't make them bad men. It makes them human."
Sasuke finally looks at him. His brother's face is a mask of calm, but his eyes are full of something Sasuke can't name. Pity? Compassion? Whatever it is, it's too much.
He doesn't deserve it.
"Shisui is cooking for Sarada," Itachi continues, and his voice is almost casual, like he's trying to diffuse the tension in the room. "They're making curry."
Sasuke lets out a long, slow breath.
"She'll like that."
Itachi smiles. "I think so too. I told Shisui to make sure she has seconds."
"He's a good cook," Sasuke murmurs. He can't think of anything else to say. He feels numb. Drained.
"Yeah, I'm lucky." Itachi reaches out and touches Sasuke's hair, and for a moment, it's like they're children again. "Listen, Sasuke. I know you think you shouldn't be allowed to feel like this as an adult, and especially as a father. But you are allowed. To feel this. To not have the answers right now. Just... allow yourself to be a person. That's all I'm asking."
Sasuke closes his eyes. He wants to argue. Wants to tell him that he can't. That he has responsibilities, that he has a daughter who depends on him. That he doesn't get to fall apart. But he can't. Because a part of him, a small, broken part, wants to believe him. Wants to believe that he's allowed to be this messy, this flawed, this human.
"Okay," he whispers. It's not a promise. It's not even an agreement. It's just a word. A surrender.
"I'm glad you can lean on us," Itachi continues. "And that you are trying. Because it is difficult. I don't have all the answers, and I can't tell you how to fix this. But we'll figure it out together."
Sasuke exhales, and the ache in his chest subsides.
"Yeah. Okay."
He doesn't know what else to say. He doesn't know how to express his gratitude. He's never been good at that.
"Thanks."
Itachi looks surprised.
"For what?"
"I don't know. For being here."
"Last time you said you hated me," Itachi reminds him, but his tone is light. Teasing. It's a jab that, a day ago, would have landed like a blow. Now, it feels like a peace offering.
Sasuke manages a weak smile. "Yeah, well. People change."
"You've certainly been trying," Itachi says. His hand is still on his brother's hair, and Sasuke leans into it. It's an unfamiliar intimacy, but it's not unwelcome.
"I have," Sasuke agrees.
He thinks about all the years he spent pushing everyone away. All the years he spent thinking he had to do it all on his own. He was so stubborn. So proud. So stupid.
He was so lonely.
"I called Sakura the other day. To apologize," he confesses, the words leaving him in a rush. "I told her... I told her I was sorry for what I put her through. For not being a better husband. A better father. I told her I'll forever be grateful to her for giving me Sarada."
Itachi's hand stills. For a moment, he doesn't say anything. Sasuke can feel his own heart pounding in his chest. He's never told Itachi this. He's never told anyone. It feels too raw, too vulnerable. But he wants him to know. He needs him to know that he's trying. That he's not the same person he used to be.
"I think I needed to hear myself say it," Sasuke says quietly. "I think I needed to say it to her, and to myself."
"Yeah," Itachi says, his voice thick with emotion. "I think you did, too."
Sasuke pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
"It's... it's strange," he says. "Making amends. It feels like... like I'm pulling my own teeth. But it also feels like... like I'm finally breathing. After a long time."
Itachi nods.
"But it feels like last night took something away," Sasuke whispers. "It feels like I went backwards."
"It doesn't erase what you did before, Sasuke. It doesn't erase your progress."
Sasuke doesn't answer. He wants to believe him. He does. But the shame is a heavy blanket, smothering him.
"I'm sorry about Naruto," Itachi says. "About how that turned out."
There's a strange tone in his voice, and Sasuke wonders what it means.
"It's not your fault," he replies.
"I know. But it caught me by surprise. I'm usually pretty good at reading people. I never took him for the type." Itachi says, and his voice is thoughtful.
Sasuke's eyes snap open.
"To be the type?" he asks, his voice sharper than he intended.
"To be the type to cheat on his wife," Itachi says, and his voice is casual. But there's something in his eyes, a flicker of something Sasuke can't quite place.
Like he doesn't quite believe what he's saying.
"That's not something you'd think of him," Itachi continues. "He always seemed like a faithful person. And that's considering your fling back in college. Even then, I think he would have gone through with the breakup if Hinata wasn't pregnant. But cheating on her after all these years? It's out of character. Don't you think?"
Sasuke's throat tightens.
"Maybe he just snapped," he mumbles. "I sure did."
"But it was consensual, right? You didn't pressure him into it?"
"Of course not," Sasuke hisses. "Fuck, Itachi, I'm not a complete scumbag."
Itachi's hand leaves his hair, and for a second, Sasuke thinks he's offended him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you," Itachi says. "I didn't believe you would. I just needed to hear you say it."
Sasuke looks at him, confused.
"Why?"
"Because I am trying to understand the situation. To understand how it happened."
"I told you how it happened. We were drunk. And the dumbass told me he loved me, right in that fucking alleyway," Sasuke says, his voice bitter.
Itachi nods. He's looking all sorts of thoughtful again. Sasuke feels a pang of irritation.
"Don't look like that, there isn't anything to figure out," Sasuke says. "He's a fucking liar, and—"
He's interrupted by Itachi's phone ringing.
"Wait a second."
Itachi fishes the device out of his pocket, and frowns when he sees the screen.
"Who is it?"
"Shisui," Itachi says, his brows creasing.
Sasuke's heart jumps. Is something wrong with Sarada?
Itachi swipes and answers.
"Hello?"
There's a brief pause.
"Yeah, I'm talking to him right now. Is everything alright?"
Another pause.
"What? What do you mean—"
Itachi's eyes widen, and his gaze snaps to Sasuke.
"Sarada told you that? Are you sure?"
"What's going on?" Sasuke demands.
"Are you sure?" Itachi repeats.
Sasuke's heartbeat is pounding in his ears.
"Okay, I'm gonna talk to him," Itachi says. "Thanks, Shisui."
"Talk to who?" Sasuke snaps. "What's going on, Itachi? Is Sarada alright?"
Itachi ends the call, and his expression is unreadable.
"Sarada is fine," he says. "But she told Shisui something. Something about Naruto."
Sasuke tenses.
"What?"
Itachi inhales deeply, and lets it out slowly.
"Sasuke, Naruto and Hinata have been separated for years."
-
Sasuke feels like he's underwater.
Everything is blurry and distant. There's a ringing in his ears, and his heartbeat is loud. He can't seem to get a full breath.
"Sasuke?"
Itachi is talking, and he's looking at him. Sasuke blinks, and tries to focus.
"Sasuke, are you listening?"
Sasuke takes a breath. Then another. He can't seem to get enough air.
"Sasuke, say something."
Say something.
Say something.
What is there to say?
"Years?"
It comes out as a whisper.
"Sasuke," Itachi says, his voice gentle. "Sarada told Shisui that Naruto and Hinata have been separated since forever. She also said he's planning to move out soon."
Sasuke stares at him.
Separated.
For years.
It doesn't make sense.
It doesn't make any sense.
"He told me he was married," Sasuke says, and his voice is hoarse.
Itachi raises an eyebrow.
"Did he actually say that? Or did you assume?"
Sasuke's mind races, replaying their conversations. Did he say the word married? Or did he just talk about his life, his kids, his house, his situation, and Sasuke's mind had just filled in the blanks?
"He has kids," Sasuke says. "With her. He has two kids."
Itachi looks at him like he's a child.
"Yes, Sasuke, he does. But people can be separated and still have kids. It's quite common. In fact, you are doing the exact same thing."
Sasuke's head is spinning.
He's trying to make sense of it, trying to fit this new piece of information into the story he's been telling himself all day. But it won't fit. It's the wrong shape.
"But whenever Boruto mentioned his parents, he always referred to them as a unit. Together."
Itachi gives him a sad, knowing look.
"Maybe that's how he wants to see them. Or maybe that's what they want him to see. A united front for their children. People do that, Sasuke. They pretend for the sake of their kids."
Sasuke's chest aches.
He's been torturing himself all day. He's been tearing himself apart with guilt. He's been thinking of himself as a homewrecker. A monster. A man who destroys everything he touches.
And all this time, Naruto was...
He doesn't know what Naruto was.
But he wasn't what Sasuke thought he was.
"Why?" he asks. "Why would he let me believe..."
He can't finish the sentence.
Why would he let him believe that he was breaking up his family? Why would he let him carry that weight?
Why would he let him hate himself for it?
He remembers the look in Naruto's eyes, the desperation. He remembers the way he'd clung to him, like he was drowning and Sasuke was his only lifeline. The confession in the alleyway, raw and unrehearsed. The kiss in the hotel room, a desperate, frantic thing. It doesn't add up.
Why would he do all that, and not just tell him the truth?
"Why would he lie?" Sasuke whispers.
But even as he says it, he knows the answer.
Because he's a coward.
Just like him.
"I don't think he was actively trying to lie, Sasuke," Itachi says, his voice quiet. "I think he assumed you knew. I think you both assumed a lot of things, and you never actually talked about it."
"How the hell was I supposed to know?" Sasuke snaps. "It's not something you just guess!"
"I know," Itachi says, and his voice is infuriatingly calm. "But think about it. Has he ever spoken about Hinata with any affection? Has he ever talked about her like a wife? Is he wearing a wedding ring?"
Sasuke's mind flashes back to all their interactions. Naruto's hand, resting on his knee. His bare fingers.
No ring.
He never noticed.
He was too caught up in his own feelings, too focused on the lines he was telling himself he couldn't cross, to see that the lines weren't even there.
"He's never worn a ring," Sasuke says, the realization dawning on him, slow and sickening. "He's never worn a ring."
Itachi doesn't say anything. He just waits.
The guilt is still there, a familiar ache in his bones. But it's different now. It's not the sharp, searing guilt of a man who has destroyed a family. It's the dull, heavy guilt of a man who has made a colossal fool of himself.
He's spent the entire day in a self-imposed prison, torturing himself over a crime he didn't commit.
"I ran away from him," Sasuke says, his voice hollow. "I ran away because I thought he was married." He lets out a short, bitter laugh. "God, I must have looked like such an idiot."
He remembers the look on Naruto's face. The confusion. The hurt.
He hadn't understood.
Of course, he hadn't understood.
Because Sasuke had been speaking a different language. A language of shame and regret and stolen moments, and Naruto had just been... there. Telling him the truth, in his own clumsy, broken way.
"He told me he loved me," Sasuke whispers. "And I left him there."
The shame is a hot wave, washing over him. He wants to crawl into a hole and die. He wants to go back in time and erase his own stupidity. He wants to find Naruto and...
And what?
What would he even say?
The taste of his own foolishness is acrid in his throat. He feels raw and exposed, like a wound that's been scraped open.
He spent a day constructing a gallows for himself, built on a foundation of assumption and silence. Now, here he stands, with the rope around his neck, only to find the floor has been pulled out from under him. He doesn't fall. He just hangs there, suspended in a state of pure, unadulterated idiocy.
His mind replays every conversation, every glance, every touch, searching for the clues he missed. The signs. The signals. They were all there, he sees them now, but he was blind. Willfully blind. He saw what he expected to see, what his own guilty conscience projected onto Naruto's life. The perfect family. The loyal husband. The happy ending he could never be a part of. It was easier to believe in that fiction than to risk seeing the truth. That maybe, just maybe, there was a space for him.
Sasuke feels a sharp, sudden anger. At Naruto. At himself. At the entire fucked-up situation. Why couldn't he just say it? Why couldn't he just be clear? And why, for the love of God, couldn't Sasuke have just asked?
A single question. That's all it would have taken.
Are you with her?
But he hadn't. He was too scared of the answer. He had been so determined to be the good guy this time, to respect the boundaries he thought were there, that he ended up being the villain in a story that was never even being written. The self-sacrificing martyr, suffering in silence for a sin that didn't exist.
The image of Naruto's face, hurt and bewildered, is burned into his mind. It's worse than the guilt. The guilt was a private punishment, a personal hell of his own making. The hurt on Naruto's face, that's a consequence. That is damage he actually caused.
"Itachi, I'm an idiot," he whispers.
"I think 'idiot' is a bit strong," Itachi says, his voice a calm anchor in the storm of Sasuke's self-loathing. "You were operating on a very understandable, albeit incorrect, set of assumptions."
"No," Sasuke insists, shaking his head. He pushes himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The floor is cold against his bare feet. "I wasn't thinking. I was just... feeling. And running. That's all I ever do. I feel too much, and I run."
He's a creature of instinct and reaction, always has been. Anger. Grief. Love. He feels it all with the force of a tidal wave, and his only defense is to retreat, to build walls, to run until the feeling subsides. He did it with Sakura. He did it with his own daughter for years. And now he's done it to Naruto. Again.
"I have to talk to him," Sasuke says, the words decisive.
Itachi holds up a hand. "Sasuke. Wait. You've been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours. You haven't eaten. You haven't slept. You're not thinking clearly."
"I'm thinking more clearly than I have all day," Sasuke counters, his voice gaining strength. The numbness is receding, replaced by a frantic, buzzing energy. He needs to move.
"You're still reeling," Itachi says. "Give yourself some time."
"I've had enough time," Sasuke hisses. "I can't stay still. Not when..."
"When what?"
"Itachi, if he's not married, then..."
Then there's a chance.
A chance for them. A chance he has wanted since he was twenty-one years old and stupid enough to think he could have everything. The thought is terrifying. It's a sliver of light piercing through years of carefully constructed darkness. It's hope, and hope has always been the most dangerous feeling for him. It makes him weak. It makes him vulnerable.
"Can you keep an eye on Sarada a little longer?" Sasuke asks, already looking around for his clothes. His jacket is thrown over a chair, his jeans in a heap on the floor. He starts pulling them on, his movements jerky.
"Of course," Itachi says, his voice even. "But—"
"Thanks, Itachi. For everything," Sasuke says, cutting him off.
He shrugs his jacket on. It still smells faintly of the hotel room. Of alcohol. Of Naruto. The scent sends a jolt through him, a painful, electric current. He needs to see him. He needs to fix this.
He's almost at the door when Itachi speaks again.
"Sasuke."
He stops, his hand on the doorknob.
"What?"
Itachi looks at him, his expression unreadable.
"Just be careful."
Sasuke nods.
"I will."
And with that, he's gone.
-
When Sasuke knocks on the door, he isn't fully there. He knows that some part of his mind is still on his couch, in his brother's guest room, curled under a blanket.
Some other part of him is in that dorm room, seventeen years ago, listening to the shattering of his own heart.
He forces himself to breathe. He feels too big for his own skin. He feels like an astronaut. He has been in his own world for too long, and now he's trying to navigate an alien environment.
The door opens, and for a moment, the world stops.
Sasuke realizes he's been so caught up at the idea of finding him, he never actually thought about who else lives here.
Hinata opens the door.
It's like a bucket of ice water has been poured over his head. He freezes, his hand half-raised for another knock. Of course. Of all the stupid, idiotic, shortsighted things he's done in his life, this might be the worst. He never even considered this. That she might be here.
"Sasuke?" she says. Her voice is soft, gentle, the same as it's always been. There's no hostility in her tone. Just surprise. "What are you doing here?"
He can't speak. His throat is a knot of tangled nerves. He just stands there, gaping at her like a fish out of water.
"I... I... I was looking for Naruto," he finally manages to stammer out.
She looks at him, her head tilted. There's a deep, unnerving intelligence in her eyes. She's not just the quiet, reserved girl he remembers from college. She's a woman. A mother. A person who has lived a life he knows nothing about.
"He's not here," she says, her voice still calm. "He's staying at Shikamaru's place."
Sasuke just nods, his mind racing. He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. He's made a terrible mistake.
Instead, his knees seem to move on their own. They bend. He sinks to the floor.
He kneels in front of her, his head bowed.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."
He's not even sure what he's apologizing for. For yesterday. For seventeen years ago. For the pain he knows he must have caused. For the pain he's causing right now, by showing up at her door like this.
For breathing, maybe.
Hinata doesn't say anything for a long moment. Sasuke keeps his head down, his eyes fixed on the welcome mat. It's cheerful and domestic, a stark contrast to the chaos in his soul.
"Get up, Sasuke," she says finally, her voice firm but not unkind. "Please. You don't have to do that."
But he can't move. The shame is a physical weight, pinning him to the floor. He deserves this. He deserves to be on his knees in front of this woman he has wronged, this woman who represents everything he can never have.
"Sasuke," she says again, and there's a note of impatience in her voice now. "Get up. Let's not do this here. Come inside."
She holds the door open wider. He hesitates for a second, then shakily gets to his feet. He follows her inside, his eyes downcast, feeling like a prisoner being led to his own execution.
The house is exactly as he would have imagined. Clean. Organized. Warm. There are family photos on the walls. A smiling Boruto, a gap-toothed Himawari. A younger Naruto, with his arm around a smiling Hinata.
It's a perfect portrait of a happy family. And it's all a lie.
Or is it?
The thought catches him off guard.
"It's not as simple as you think, Sasuke," Hinata says, as if she can read his mind.
He looks up, startled. Her expression is unreadable.
"Please," she says, gesturing towards the living room sofa. "Sit down."
He sinks into the cushions. They're soft. Comfortable. He feels like he's soiling them with his presence.
Hinata sits in an armchair opposite him. She folds her hands in her lap, her posture perfect. For a moment, they just sit in silence. The only sound is the ticking of a clock on the wall.
"Why are you here, Sasuke?" she asks, her voice quiet.
He takes a deep breath.
"Is it true that you and Naruto have been separated for years?"
The question hangs in the air between them. He feels rude, intrusive. But he has to know.
Hinata looks away, her gaze falling on a picture of her children on the mantelpiece. A small, sad smile touches her lips.
"We've been living separate lives for a very long time," she says softly. "We're friends. We're partners in raising our children. We're a family. But we're not... together. Not in the way you mean."
Sasuke's heart is a frantic drum against his ribs.
"He sleeps in his own room and I in mine," she continues, and there's no bitterness in her voice, just a quiet matter-of-factness. "They know their parents are divorced in every way but name. We thought by not making it official, we were protecting them. But I see now that we were just... prolonging the inevitable. And hurting everyone in the process."
Sasuke doesn't know what to say.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.
She looks at him, and her eyes are full of a deep, ancient sadness. It's the look of someone who has been fighting a battle for a long, long time.
"Because you came to my door looking like you'd just lost the only thing that ever mattered," she says. "And I know that look. I've worn it myself."
She pauses.
"He told me about last night. What happened between you."
Sasuke flinches. He feels a hot wave of shame wash over him.
"He... he did?"
"Don't look so surprised, Sasuke," she says. "The state you left him in, it wasn't hard to guess. But it's okay. I'm not angry."
Sasuke just stares at her, completely bewildered.
"How can you not be angry?" he asks. "I... we..."
"You're in love with him, aren't you?"
The question is so direct, so unexpected, that it steals the air from his lungs. He opens his mouth to deny it, to deflect, to do something, anything to get away from the terrifying truth of it. But he can't. He just sits there, speechless, a fish on a hook.
"It's okay," she says again, her voice impossibly gentle. "It's written all over your face. It's been written all over his, too, for a very long time. Maybe his whole life."
Sasuke's mind is a blank slate. He can't process what she's saying. It's too much.
"You can admit it, Sasuke," she says. "It's just me here. And I already know."
And just like that, the dam breaks. The word comes out, raw and ragged, torn from a place so deep inside him he didn't even know it existed.
"Yes. I am."
The admission feels like a death sentence and a pardon all at once. He's exposed, stripped bare, his ugliest, most vulnerable secret laid out on this perfect, clean carpet for this woman to see.
But instead of judgment, he sees... understanding. Compassion. She nods, urging him to continue, to let the words out.
"From the moment I saw him," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "From the very first moment. He was like... like the sun, and I was just a cold, dark planet orbiting him. I never stood a chance."
He's never said these words out loud. Not to anyone. Not even to himself. They've been a silent, aching constant in the background of his life, a low hum of longing that he's never been able to turn off.
"I am so sorry for the pain I have caused your family," he whispers, the words tasting like acid. "For the pain I have caused you. That was never my intention."
"I know it wasn't," she says softly. "You're not a malicious person, Sasuke. You're just... a person. And you're in a situation that's impossible. That's we've all made impossible."
She looks away, her gaze distant, as if she's seeing a past he can't.
"We tried. We really did. For the kids. For ourselves. We had a good life. A comfortable life. We built a beautiful home. We have two wonderful children. But a house is not a home, and a partnership is not a marriage. Not when there's... someone else."
She looks back at him, her eyes clear and direct.
"He's never stopped loving you, you know. Not really. Even when we were first dating, even when we got married, even when Boruto was born... there was always a part of him that was yours. A part I could never touch."
Sasuke's heart is a painful, frantic beat in his chest.
"He tried so hard to be a good husband. To be a good father. And he is. He's a wonderful father. But he was never truly mine. Not completely. I spent years trying to fill that space in his heart. But it's your shape. It's always been your shape."
Sasuke feels a single, hot tear escape and trace a path down his cheek. He quickly wipes it away, embarrassed.
"Don't," she says, her voice firm. "Don't be ashamed. You have nothing to be ashamed of. We all deserve to be loved completely. To be someone's first choice. He was trying to give that to me. I was trying to give that to him. We were just... failing. Because the person who was meant to have his whole heart wasn't me."
The clock on the wall ticks, marking the seconds. Each tick is a hammer blow to Sasuke's soul. The silence is heavy, but it's not hostile. It's just... full. Full of years of unspoken truths, of shared pain, of a quiet, enduring love that has nothing to do with romance. He sees it now. The love she has for Naruto is not the desperate, all-consuming thing that churns in his own chest. It's a deep, steady, compassionate thing. The love of a friend. A partner. The mother of his children.
"He's a good man," she says, a sad smile touching her lips. "He's loyal to a fault. That's why he never left. He made a promise to me, to our family. And he would have kept it. He would have lived the rest of his life in that quiet, comfortable sadness, if you hadn't come back."
"And I ruined it," Sasuke says, his voice hollow.
"No," she says, and her voice is surprisingly strong. "You didn't ruin it. You just... woke him up. And waking up is always painful. You can't stay asleep once you've seen the sun."
She leans forward, her elbows on her knees.
"You both need to stop atoning for a mistake you made seventeen years ago. Yes, it hurt. It hurt all of us. It shattered things. But for God's sake, Sasuke, it's been seventeen years. How much longer are you going to punish yourselves? How much longer are you going to let that one moment define the rest of your lives?"
Her words are a lit match in the dark room of his mind. They burn away the cobwebs of guilt and regret that have clouded his vision for so long.
"I never wanted to be this person," he whispers. "The other... man."
"I know," she says softly. "And you're not. You're not the other man. You're the man. For him. You always have been."
The simplicity of the statement is staggering. It cuts through all the complexity, all the drama, all the tangled history. It's just a fact. As simple and as undeniable as gravity.
"Go find him," she says. "Do you have his number?"
Sasuke fumbles for his phone, his hands shaking so badly he can barely get his thumb on the screen. He shakes his head. "I... no."
"Let me give it to you," she says, and recites a string of digits. He types them in, his fingers clumsy on the glass. He saves the contact, his thumb hovering over the name.
Naruto.
Just his name. No last name. No emojis. Just the stark, simple reality of the man he loves.
"Thank you," he says, the words inadequate. "Hinata. You are truly..." He trails off, unable to find the words. She is too good for this world. Too good for the wreckage of their lives.
She smiles, a real smile this time. It reaches her eyes, and he can see the strength and grace that has held her, and their family, together for all these years.
"You are incredible," he finally settles on.
"Someone has to be," she says, her voice light. "Now go. Before I change my mind and decide to be angry after all."
There's a playful glint in her eye, and it breaks the tension. Sasuke finds himself returning the smile, a weak, wobbly thing, but a smile nonetheless.
He gets up and walks to the door. He feels different. Lighter. The weight of his own making is gone, replaced by the much heavier, much more terrifying weight of possibility.
At the door, he turns back.
"I will never be able to thank you enough for this."
"Just be happy, Sasuke," she says. "Both of you."
He nods, and then he's out the door, back into the cool evening air. He walks down the path, his phone held tightly in his hand like a lifeline.
And, for the first time in seventeen years, he doesn't feel like he's running. He feels like he's walking toward something.
Or someone.
Sasuke stops at the end of the driveway. The world seems sharper now, the colors more vivid. The setting sun casts long shadows across the street. He takes a deep breath, the air cool and clean in his lungs.
He opens his contacts. His thumb hovers over Naruto's name. His heart is a wild, frantic bird beating against his ribs.
This is it.
The point of no return.
He presses the call button.
It rings once. Twice. Each ring is an eternity. A universe of hope and fear.
A third ring. The world is holding its breath.
A fourth ring. Maybe he won't answer. Maybe he's changed his mind. Maybe he hates him now.
"Hello? Who is this?"
Naruto's voice. Rough, tired, wary. It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.
Sasuke's own voice is gone. His throat is closed up. He can't make a sound. He just stands there, on a stranger's sidewalk, clutching his phone like a fool. The air crackles with silence. He can hear Naruto breathing on the other end, waiting. He's about to hang up. He's going to lose him again.
"Naruto," he finally manages to choke out. It's barely a whisper, but it's his name. And it's everything.
There's a sharp intake of breath on the other end. A silence that is more deafening than any sound.
"Sasuke?" The name is a shattered breath, full of disbelief, of something fragile and hopeful and terrified all at once.
Sasuke closes his eyes. He can't speak. There's too much to say. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I'm an idiot. I love you. The words are a jumbled mess in his head, a traffic jam of emotion.
"Sasuke, are you there?" Naruto's voice is strained, urgent.
"I'm here," Sasuke says, finally. "Can I… can I see you?"
The question hangs between them, raw and exposed. He's laid himself bare, stripped of all his defenses.
"Yes," Naruto says, and the word is a rush of air, a surrender. "God, yes. Where are you?"
"I... I just left your house."
"My house?" Naruto asks, confused.
"Hinata... she was there."
A beat of silence.
"Oh," Naruto says. "You talked to her?"
"Yeah," Sasuke says. "She told me everything."
He can hear Naruto's sharp exhale on the other end of the line. It sounds like relief.
"Okay," Naruto says. "Okay. That's... that's good. That's really good."
"I'm at the end of your driveway," Sasuke says. "I don't know where to go."
"Stay there," Naruto says. "Don't move. I'm coming to get you."
"Okay," Sasuke whispers.
He lowers the phone, the call still connected. He can hear the faint sounds of movement on the other end. A door closing. Keys jingling. He's coming.
Sasuke stands there, in the middle of the sidewalk, a solitary figure in the fading light. The streetlights are starting to flicker on, casting a warm, orange glow. He feels like he's in a dream. A dream he's been having for seventeen years.
He waits.
He's been waiting his whole life.
It only takes a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime. Then, he sees it. A car turning the corner, its headlights cutting through the twilight. It's speeding, a little recklessly, and Sasuke's heart leaps into his throat. It's him.
The car screeches to a halt at the curb, and Naruto is out of it before it's even fully stopped. He leaves the door open, the engine running. He runs towards him, his face a mask of desperation, of disbelief, of a desperate, frantic hope.
Sasuke doesn't move. He just watches him come.
Naruto skids to a halt in front of him, his chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looks like he's run a marathon. He looks like he's just been saved from drowning.
He doesn't say anything. He just looks at him, his eyes wide, searching, drinking him in. He looks at his face, his hair, his clothes. He looks at him like he's trying to make sure he's real. That he's not a hallucination.
Sasuke feels tears prick his eyes. He tries to blink them back.
"Naruto," he whispers.
And then Naruto is on him.
His arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug so tight it almost knocks the air out of his lungs. He buries his face in Sasuke's neck, his body shaking with silent sobs. Sasuke can feel the hot tears on his skin. He can feel the frantic, desperate beat of his heart against his own chest.
Sasuke's arms come up to wrap around him, hesitantly at first, then with a force that surprises even himself. He clings to him, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket. He buries his face in Naruto's hair, breathing in his scent. It's familiar and comforting, like coming home after a long, long journey.
They stand there, on the sidewalk, wrapped in each other's arms, a tableau of regret and forgiveness and love. The world fades away. The only thing that exists is the warmth of Naruto's body, the sound of his ragged breaths, the feeling of his tears soaking into his collar.
Sasuke feels a wave of something so profound it almost buckles his knees. It's not just relief. It's not just happiness. It's a sense of rightness. Of finally being in the place he was always meant to be. He's a ship that's been lost at sea for seventeen years, and he's finally, finally, found his shore.
"Hey, we should probably not do this in the middle of the street," Naruto says, after a long moment. His voice is muffled by Sasuke's shoulder, thick with tears.
Sasuke chuckles, a wet, shaky sound.
"You're probably right."
Naruto pulls back, but he doesn't let go. He keeps his hands on Sasuke's arms, his grip firm, like he's afraid he might disappear if he lets go. He looks at him, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen, but a brilliant, beautiful blue. He looks at him like he's seeing him for the first time.
"Well, it's not like we can go to either of our houses," Sasuke points out, a wry smile touching his lips.
Naruto looks down the street, his brow furrowed in thought. Then he looks back at Sasuke, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips.
"Do you remember that park we used to go to? The one with the big oak tree?"
Sasuke's heart gives a painful lurch. He remembers. He remembers it like it was yesterday. He remembers sitting under that tree with Naruto, their shoulders touching, textbooks spread out in front of them. He remembers the way the sunlight would filter through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on Naruto's face. He remembers the feeling of a perfect, unspoken happiness.
"I remember," Sasuke says, his voice barely a whisper.
"Let's go there," Naruto says. "We can talk there."
Sasuke nods.
"Okay."
Naruto finally lets go of him, but only to take his hand. His grip is strong, warm. He leads him to the passenger side of the car, opens the door for him. Sasuke gets in, the leather of the seats cool against his skin. Naruto closes the door, then jogs around to the driver's side, gets in, and shuts the door with a solid thud.
The silence in the car is not uncomfortable. It's heavy with unspoken things, but it's not a bad heavy. It's a comfortable heavy. A familiar heavy. It's the weight of their shared history.
Naruto doesn't say anything. He just puts the car in drive and pulls away from the curb. He drives with a focused intensity, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road. But every few seconds, he glances over at Sasuke, a quick, almost furtive look, like he's still trying to convince himself he's really there.
Sasuke just sits back, letting the familiar comfort of Naruto's presence wash over him. He watches the city lights blur past, the world outside a smear of color and light. He's tired. So, so tired. But it's a good tired. It's the tired that comes after a long battle has been won.
They reach the park, and Naruto pulls into the empty parking lot. He kills the engine, and the sudden silence is almost deafening. They don't get out of the car right away. They just sit there, in the dark, the only light coming from the dim glow of the parking lot lamps.
"I was so scared I'd never see you again," Naruto says, his voice quiet, breaking the silence.
"I was scared, too," Sasuke admits.
"Come on," Naruto says, opening his door. "Let's go."
They walk across the grass, their footsteps silent in the cool night air. The park is quiet, deserted. They find the oak tree, its ancient branches reaching up towards the star-studded sky. They sit down underneath it, leaning against the rough bark of the trunk. They're close enough that their shoulders are touching, a solid, reassuring point of contact.
For a while, they just sit in silence, watching the moon rise over the city. It's a perfect, quiet moment, and Sasuke wants to hold onto it forever.
"I'm sorry," Naruto says, finally. "I'm so sorry, Sasuke. For everything."
Sasuke turns to look at him. His face is in shadow, but Sasuke can see the earnestness in his eyes.
Is he apologizing for last night? Or for seventeen years ago? Or for all the years in between? It doesn't matter. It's all the same apology. It's all the same regret.
"I am, too," Sasuke says. "I was an idiot. I was so wrapped up in my own guilt I didn't even think to ask. I just assumed."
"I should have told you," Naruto says. "I should have been clear. It's just... it never even crossed my mind that you don't know. It felt so obvious to me, the state of my life, that I just thought you knew. That everyone knew."
Sasuke nods. He understands. They were both living in their own private hells, both assuming the other person could see the landscape.
"I'm sorry for how I treated you last night," Sasuke says, his eyes taking in the bruises and bite marks on Naruto's neck. The marks that he made. A wave of shame washes over him. "I was rough."
Naruto lets out a short, humorless laugh.
"Sasuke, if I had a problem with the way you were treating me last night, I would have told you. I wanted it. I wanted all of it. I've wanted it for seventeen years."
Sasuke's heart aches. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the faint mark on Naruto's collarbone. Naruto flinches at his touch, then leans into it, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
"Does it hurt?" Sasuke asks.
"No," Naruto says. "It doesn't. It just reminds me of you."
Sasuke's hand drops back into his lap. He feels a blush creeping up his neck.
"I wanted to punish you," Sasuke admits. "For the way you left me. For the way you moved on. At least, that's what I thought I was doing. But I think... I think I just wanted you."
"I know," Naruto says, his voice soft. "I know. And I wanted you, too. I still want you."
The air between them crackles with a tension that is not unpleasant. It's the tension of possibility. Of a door that has been closed for seventeen years, finally standing slightly ajar.
"So, your marriage," Sasuke begins, unsure where to start. There are so many questions he needs answered. "It's not..."
"It's over," Naruto says. "It's been over for a long time. I mean, I can see how that would be confusing, but... we're not together anymore."
Sasuke nods. What Naruto is saying lines up perfectly with what Hinata had told him. But still, it's hard to wrap his head around. He's spent the past seventeen years imagining a happy, idyllic family life for him.
"You knew I was divorced, too?" Sasuke asks, wanting to make sure they're on the same page.
Naruto lets out a bitter chuckle.
"Not until yesterday. Up until then, I had no idea. When I'd asked about Sakura, back when the kids got hurt, you told me I have no right to know about her."
Sasuke's chest tightens at the memory. So many words left unsaid. So much damage done.
"I wanted to stay away from you," Naruto says. "Not completely, but enough to keep from driving myself crazy. But then Boruto found out about our past and... well, we had that fight I told you about, at the bar yesterday. He practically screamed at me that you were divorced, and I... it felt like I'd been punched in the gut. I knew it wasn't my place, but I had to know. I had to know if you were as alone as I was."
Sasuke swallows. His throat is suddenly dry. He remembers the way Naruto had looked at him, the raw, open need in his eyes.
So yesterday, at the bar, Naruto already knew that Sasuke was single. He'd seeked him out, knowing that they were both on equal footing. Knowing that they were both alone.
Shame so powerful it makes him nauseous floods him. Naruto knew, but Sasuke didn't. Sasuke'd slept with him, thinking he was cheating, thinking that he'd been a homewrecker.
"I'm a horrible person," Sasuke whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
"What?" Naruto says, incredulously. "No. You're not."
"I thought you were married," Sasuke chokes out. "And yet, when you confessed your feelings, I still went through with it. I let it happen. I wanted it to happen."
Realization dawns on Naruto's face. His mouth falls open, and he shakes his head, his brow furrowed in disbelief.
"But I am not with her anymore," Naruto protests.
"It doesn't matter," Sasuke insists. "Don't you understand? I thought you were cheating on her. And I did it anyway."
Sasuke can feel his emotions boiling over. Guilt, shame, self-hatred. All the things he's been holding in for the past year, the past seven, are finally pouring out of him, a toxic, poisonous flood. He feels the hot prickle of tears on his cheeks, but he doesn't care.
Naruto reaches out, his fingers gently cupping his jaw, turning his face to look at him.
"Sasuke," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "Would you have done it if I didn't confront you and tell you that I loved you? If I didn't make the first move?"
"No," Sasuke says, his voice breaking. "No, of course not. But—"
"Then that's all that matters," Naruto says. "I made the first move. I told you that I loved you. That I've always loved you. We were both drunk. I wasn't in a good place. I took advantage of that. If anyone is to blame, it's me."
"That's not true," Sasuke says, shaking his head. "That's not—"
"Sasuke," Naruto says, his thumb stroking his cheek. "Can't you see? We were both hurting. We were both lonely. And when we found each other again, after all this time, we just... snapped."
Sasuke swallows, his throat tight. Snapped. That's exactly how he described it to Itachi, earlier today. The two broken halves of a whole, coming together for a brief, painful moment.
"Do you regret it?" Naruto asks, his voice low. "Do you regret what we did?"
"Yes," Sasuke whispers. "I do."
Naruto drops his hand, pulling away from him. Sasuke sees the hurt on his face, and it's like a knife to his heart.
"Not because of you," Sasuke adds quickly. "Because of me. Because I thought you were married. I thought you had a family. And I still did it. I can't live with that."
Naruto takes a deep breath, nodding slowly.
"I get it," he says. "I can't keep excusing you, because that's not fair to you. You're right. What we did was wrong, especially from your point of view."
Sasuke nods.
"It was wrong from my point of view, too," Naruto says, quietly. "I came on to you, without having a proper conversation about what happened before. We should have never done anything before we worked that out. And that's on me."
They sit there, side by side, leaning against the rough bark of the old oak tree. The night air is cool, and a gentle breeze rustles the leaves overhead. They're both lost in thought, trying to work their way through the tangled mess of their past.
"But back then, seventeen years ago," Naruto says, finally. "That was all on me, Sasuke. That was all my fault. And I will never, ever forgive myself."
Sasuke opens his mouth to protest, but Naruto silences him with a gesture.
"Let me finish," he says. "Please."
Sasuke closes his mouth.
"Back then, seventeen years ago, I ruined more than just my own life. And it wasn't because I'd gotten Hinata pregnant. It was because I didn't see how badly my choices would affect the people I loved."
He looks at Sasuke, his eyes sad and serious.
"I thought my options were stepping up and marrying her, or leaving my unborn child fatherless. But now I see that there was a third option. An option that would have been much harder, but would have been the right thing to do. I should have begged her to let me be part of the child's life, even if we weren't together. I should have begged for her forgiveness, and hoped she'd accept me, and let me help raise our son. And then... then, I should have begged you, Sasuke, to wait for me."
Naruto's voice breaks, and he stops, taking a shaky breath.
"I'm sorry, Sasuke. For making you leave. For making you feel like I chose Hinata over you. For not being brave enough to choose a different path."
Tears are running down his face, and Sasuke can't stop his own from spilling over. They're two grown men, crying under an ancient oak tree, a lifetime of hurt and regret and sorrow between them.
Sasuke reaches out and grabs his hand, gripping it tightly.
"I'm sorry, too," he says. "For walking away. For not even giving you a chance to explain. For not even asking."
Naruto turns to look at him, and their eyes meet, a moment of understanding passing between them. They're not absolved, not completely, but the weight of their guilt has been shared, and it's not as heavy.
"I forgive you," Sasuke whispers.
"I forgive you, too," Naruto says, his voice cracking.
Sasuke pulls him close, wrapping his arms around him, burying his face in his neck. He can smell the salt of his tears, the faint scent of his aftershave. Naruto's arms come up, hugging him tightly, and they just hold each other, letting the weight of the past seventeen years sink into the ground beneath them.
"But what do we do now?" Sasuke asks, pulling back slightly.
The question hangs in the air between them, heavy with uncertainty. Forgiveness was one thing. The messy reality is another.
"This isn't just... about us. There's the children. There's Hinata."
"It's never been simple with us," Naruto says, a wry smile touching his lips. "Why should it start being simple now?"
Sasuke manages a weak smile in return.
"Hinata asked me to move out," Naruto says, and the statement is so unexpected it takes Sasuke a moment to process it.
"She did?"
"Yeah," Naruto says. "She said that us living together in that... state... it wasn't fair to anyone. Especially not to the kids. She's right. We've been living in a limbo, and it's time to end it."
"What will you do?"
"I was planning on crashing at Shikamaru's until I figured out a more permanent solution," Naruto says. "I'm gonna start looking for my own place. Something small. A place for me."
Sasuke's heart aches at the thought of him alone, in some empty apartment. The thought is so vivid it's almost painful. Naruto, surrounded by unpacked boxes, in a space that doesn't feel like home. It's not right.
"Don't," Sasuke says, the word a reflex. "Don't do that."
Naruto looks at him, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"What?"
"Don't get your own place," Sasuke says, his voice gaining a quiet, desperate strength. "Don't be alone."
He doesn't know where the words are coming from. He hasn't thought them through. He's just speaking from a place of pure, unadulterated instinct. The thought of Naruto being alone, after everything, is unbearable.
"Sasuke," Naruto says, his voice gentle, cautious. "What are you saying?"
"Sakura is coming back from her overseas research in a month," Sasuke says, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. "Sarada is going to go back to living with her full-time. I..."
He pauses, trying to find the right words. Trying to make sense of the chaotic, impulsive thought that is taking root in his mind.
"Stay with me," he finally says, the words barely a whisper. "Until you figure things out. Or... longer. Just... stay with me."
The air in the park seems to still. The distant city sounds fade into a low hum. He can hear the frantic, desperate beat of his own heart. He's just laid it all on the line. Again. But this time, it's not a plea for a night. It's a plea for a future. A future he's not sure he deserves, but a future he wants with a terrifying, all-consuming desire.
Naruto just stares at him, his eyes wide with disbelief. He looks like he's just been struck by lightning.
"Stay with you?" he repeats, his voice hoarse. "In your house? With you?"
"Yes," Sasuke says, his voice firm. "Stay with me."
Naruto's expression is a storm of emotions. Shock, hope, fear, love. It's all there, a chaotic, beautiful mess on his face.
"Sasuke, are you sure?" he asks. "Are you really sure? That's... that's a huge step."
"I've wasted seventeen years being sure of the wrong things," Sasuke says. "I'm done with that. I'm sure of this. I'm sure of you."
Naruto's eyes well up with tears. He doesn't try to stop them from falling.
"I..." he starts, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what to say."
"Only if you want to," Sasuke says, his voice gentle. "If it's too much, if it's too fast, I understand. I just... I had to ask."
Naruto shakes his head, a small, watery smile on his face.
"No, it's... Sasuke, what are you exactly asking?" He asks, trying to find the right words, trying to navigate this new, uncharted territory they've found themselves in. "I mean, what's the plan? Am I just crashing on your couch?"
He's trying to be practical, trying to ground this moment in reality, but Sasuke can see the hope in his eyes, the desperate, fragile hope that this is more than just a place to stay.
"You could... if you wanted," Sasuke says, his cheeks flushing. "But I was thinking... maybe the couch isn't the only option."
Naruto's eyes widen. He understands. He understands the implication, the unspoken invitation that hangs in the air between them.
"Sasuke," he whispers, his voice a raw, vulnerable thing.
"I want you in my bed, Naruto," Sasuke says, the words a quiet confession. "I want you there when I wake up in the morning. I want you there when I fall asleep at night. I'm done with the in-between. I'm done with the maybe."
Naruto's breath hitches. He looks at Sasuke like he's a mirage, a beautiful, impossible dream that's about to vanish.
"You don't know what you're asking for," Naruto says, his voice shaking. "My life is a mess. The divorce, even if it's not official yet, it's going to be complicated. The kids... they're going to have questions. They're going to be confused. And then there's Sarada..."
"I know," Sasuke says. "I know it's going to be complicated. I know it's going to be hard. But it's been hard, every day, without you. I can handle a little bit of hard if I have you."
He reaches out, his hand cupping Naruto's cheek. He can feel the faint stubble under his palm, the warmth of his skin. Naruto leans into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed.
"I love you," Sasuke says, the words coming out easily, naturally, like they've been waiting on the tip of his tongue for seventeen years. "I have always, always loved you. And I'm tired of pretending I don't."
A single tear escapes from Naruto's closed eye, tracing a path down his cheek, and onto Sasuke's thumb. Sasuke gently wipes it away.
"Sasuke," Naruto says, his voice a choked whisper. "Say it again."
"I love you," Sasuke repeats, his voice soft but firm. "I love you, Naruto."
Naruto opens his eyes, and they are a brilliant, glistening blue in the dim light. He looks at Sasuke with an intensity that takes his breath away.
"I love you, too," he says. "I've loved you since I was nineteen years old, and I will love you until the day I die."
He closes the small distance between them, his lips finding Sasuke's.
This kiss is not like the others. It's not frantic, or desperate, or punishing. It's slow, and sweet, and full of a quiet, profound joy. It's a kiss that says, I'm home. It's a kiss that says, I'm not going anywhere. It's a kiss that says, I'm yours.
Sasuke's hand moves from Naruto's cheek to the back of his neck, his fingers tangling in his hair. He deepens the kiss, pouring all the years of regret and longing into it. He can feel Naruto's arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, until there is no space left between them. It's a clumsy, perfect collision of two people who have spent a lifetime wanting to be exactly where they are now.
They break apart, resting their foreheads together, their breath mingling in the cool night air.
"So," Naruto says, his voice a low rumble. "I guess I'm moving in with you."
A slow, genuine smile spreads across Sasuke's face. It feels strange on his lips, unused as they are to the expression.
"I guess you are," he says.
"How will you tolerate that?" Naruto teases. "You love your quiet, and your perfectly arranged furniture."
Sasuke chuckles.
"I have some experience. I had this roommate back in college. He was a complete mess. Always leaving his socks on the floor, and his ramen cups in the sink. But he had a really great smile, and the most ridiculously blue eyes, so I let it slide."
Naruto laughs, a real, unburdened laugh that echoes in the quiet park.
"He sounds like a handful," he says.
"He was," Sasuke says, his voice soft. "He was impossible to live with."
"But?" Naruto prompts, his eyes sparkling.
"But it was even more impossible to live without him," Sasuke finishes.
Naruto's smile softens, and he leans in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Sasuke's lips.
"I'll go to a motel, then," Naruto says. "Until Sakura gets back. I don't want to... I don't want to complicate things for you and Sarada. And I need to... talk to the kids. Properly. Before I just... show up with a new life."
Sasuke nods.
"Yeah, I imagine she wouldn't be happy if her boyfriend's dad just moved into her house."
Realization dawns on both their faces at the same time.
"Oh god, our children are dating," Naruto says, his eyes wide with dawning horror.
Sasuke snorts. "I can't imagine that conversation."
Naruto starts to laugh, a full-bodied, helpless laugh that shakes his entire body. Sasuke watches him, a fond smile on his face. He could watch him laugh forever.
"That's going to be a disaster," Naruto says, when he finally catches his breath.
"It's going to be a catastrophe," Sasuke agrees.
"But we'll figure it out," Naruto says, his expression turning serious again. "Together."
"Together," Sasuke repeats, the word a promise.
They sit in a comfortable silence for a while longer, just watching the moon climb higher in the sky. Sasuke feels a sense of peace settle over him, a quiet contentment he's never known before. It's not the absence of problems. It's the presence of Naruto.
"Tell me about your life," Naruto says, his voice quiet. "These last seventeen years. I want to know everything."
Sasuke hesitates. His life is not a happy story. It's a story of loneliness, and regret, and a quiet, persistent ache that he's learned to live with. It's not a story he wants to tell. But he will. For Naruto, he will tell him anything.
"It's... not a very interesting story," he says.
"I don't care if it's interesting," Naruto says. "I want to know it. I want to know you."
So Sasuke tells him.
He tells him about the lonely, grey years after Naruto left. How he married Sakura because it was the expected thing to do, the sensible thing to do. How he tried to love her, but his heart was a locked room, and Naruto had the only key.
He tells him about Sarada's birth, and the overwhelming, terrifying love he felt for her. A love so pure and so fierce it scared him. A love that made him feel even more inadequate, more unworthy.
He tells him about his work, the long hours he poured himself into, a way he tried to deal with his sense of inadequacy by avoiding his family. He tells him about the quiet, suffocating misery of his marriage, the way he and Sakura drifted further and further apart, until they were just two strangers living in the same house, sharing a child.
He tells him about their divorce, and how it wasn't a bitter, angry thing, but a sad, quiet one. A mutual admission of failure.
He tells him about the years that followed, the quiet solitude of his life. The long hours he spent at the office, the silent evenings in his perfectly clean, perfectly empty house. The way he would see Naruto's face in crowds, a phantom limb that ached with a memory.
Naruto listens. He doesn't interrupt. He just listens, his hand resting on Sasuke's knee, a quiet, steady presence. He doesn't offer platitudes, or apologies. He just listens.
When Sasuke is finished, he feels like he's been wrung out, like he's just confessed a lifetime of sins.
"My turn," Naruto says, his voice soft.
Sasuke turns to him, his heart aching with a mixture of dread and anticipation. He wants to know, and he's terrified to know.
Naruto tells him his story.
He tells him about his own life with Hinata. It's not a story of misery. It's a story of a quiet, comfortable loneliness. He tells him about how much he loves his children, how they are the best things that have ever happened to him. He tells him about the years of trying, the years of trying to make his marriage work, to be a good husband and a good father, even though his heart was somewhere else.
He tells him about Himawari's birth, how a second child didn't fix the cracks in his marriage, it just made them more complicated. He tells him about the slow, painful realization that he was not the man Hinata thought he was. That he could never be the man she deserved.
He tells him about the conversations with Hinata, the long, painful talks that led to their decision to separate. It wasn't a sudden thing. It was a slow, gradual process, like a boat taking on water over many years.
Sasuke listens, his heart aching for him. He can see the love Naruto has for Hinata, the deep, abiding respect he has for her. He recognizes the feeling. It's the same feeling he has for Sakura. A love that is not romantic, but is no less real for it.
"I am sorry for not being your friend when you needed one the most," Sasuke says, his voice thick with regret.
Naruto looks at him, his expression soft.
"You're here now," he says. "That's all that matters."
Sasuke wants to believe him. He's trying to believe him. He's trying to let go of the past, to focus on the present, on the future. But the past is a heavy thing. It's a ghost that sits between them, a silent, third party in their conversation.
"And now what do we do?" Sasuke asks, his voice barely a whisper. "How do we even begin to... fix this?"
"I don't know," Naruto admits. "I don't think there's a guidebook for this situation. We just... take it one day at a time. We talk. A lot. We don't let things fester. We don't let seventeen years go by without saying the things that need to be said."
Sasuke nods. He can do that. He can do that.
"And we love each other," Naruto says, his voice firm. "We just love each other, and we don't let the rest of the world tell us that we're wrong."
He leans in and kisses him again, a slow, deep kiss that is a promise. It's a promise to try. A promise to fight. A promise to never, ever give up on each other again.
They pull apart, and Sasuke rests his head on Naruto's shoulder. It feels natural, right. Like he's been doing it for years.
"I'm tired," Sasuke says, the admission a quiet surrender. He feels like he could sleep for a week.
"Me too," Naruto says.
"I didn't really sleep last night," Sasuke admits.
"I can imagine," Naruto says. "I was... pretty worked up myself."
Sasuke lets out a soft laugh. "Understatement."
They sit in a comfortable silence, the weight of the world lifting from their shoulders, replaced by a quiet, tentative hope.
"Let's get you home," Naruto says, after a while. "Sarada must be worried."
Sasuke's heart aches at the mention of his daughter. He needs to see her. He needs to hold her, to reassure himself that she's real, that this new reality he's stepping into doesn't break her.
They get up, and Naruto takes his hand again, their fingers lacing together. They walk back to the car in silence, a silent, easy companionship settling between them. The drive to Sasuke's house is quiet, but it's a different kind of quiet than before. It's a peaceful quiet, a shared quiet. It's the quiet of two people who don't need words to understand each other.
Naruto pulls up in front of Sasuke's house, and kills the engine. The house is dark, save for a single light on in the living room.
"Shisui's car is here," Sasuke says. "He stayed with Sarada."
"Good," Naruto says. "She wasn't alone."
They sit in the dark for a moment, neither of them wanting the night to end.
"I'll call you tomorrow," Naruto says. "After I talk to the kids."
"Okay," Sasuke says.
"And Sasuke," he says, turning to him. "This is real. This is happening. We're not... we're not going to wake up tomorrow and realize this was a dream."
"I know," Sasuke says. "I know."
"I love you," Naruto says.
"I love you, too," Sasuke replies.
He leans in, and Naruto meets him halfway. It's a soft, gentle kiss, a benediction.
"Get some sleep," Naruto says, when they pull apart.
"You too," Sasuke says.
He gets out of the car, and closes the door. He stands on the sidewalk, watching Naruto's car until the taillights disappear around the corner. Then he turns, and walks up to his front door.
He takes a deep breath, and opens it.
He hears the sound of the TV, a low murmur from the living room. He walks down the hall, and stops in the doorway.
Sarada is looking right at him. She's sitting on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her expression is unreadable. Shisui is in the armchair, a book in his lap, but he's not reading it. He's watching Sasuke, his expression a careful mask of neutrality.
The air in the room is heavy with unspoken questions.
Sasuke opens his mouth to say something, to offer an explanation, an apology, but then Sarada is on her feet, the blanket falling to the floor. She runs to him, and throws her arms around his waist.
"Dad, I'm so glad you're home," she says, her voice muffled by his shirt.
Sasuke's arms wrap around her, a wave of relief washing over him so strong it almost brings him to his knees. He holds her tight, burying his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry I worried you."
"It's okay," she says, pulling back to look at him. She looks at his face, her eyes searching. "You look... different."
"Different how?" he asks, his heart starting to pound.
"Happy," she says, a slow, dawning smile spreading across her face. "You look happy, Dad."
Sasuke feels a lump form in his throat. He can't speak. He just nods, a single, jerky motion.
He looks over at Shisui, who is watching them with a small, knowing smile.
"Thanks for staying with her," Sasuke says, his voice raspy.
"Of course," Shisui says. "Anytime."
He gets up, and stretches.
"Did Itachi drive you home?" Shisui asks.
Sasuke shakes his head. "Naruto did."
Shisui's smile widens.
"Ah," he says. "I see."
Sasuke feels a blush creep up his neck.
"I'm going to head out," Shisui says, picking up his book. "Sarada, it was a pleasure as always."
"You too, Uncle Shisui," she says.
Shisui walks over to Sasuke, and claps him on the shoulder.
"Take care of yourself, Sasuke," he says, his voice low enough that only Sasuke can hear. "You deserve it."
He gives him a look that is full of understanding, and a quiet, unwavering support. Then he's gone, and the door clicks shut behind him, leaving Sasuke alone with his daughter.
The silence in the room is not heavy, but it's full. It's full of things that need to be said.
"Let's sit down," Sasuke says, leading her to the couch.
They sit down, and he turns to face her, taking her hands in his. Her hands are small in his.
"There's something I need to tell you," he starts, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Something that's going to... change things."
"Is it about Mr. Uzumaki?" she asks, her expression serious.
Sasuke nods, a little taken aback by her directness. He should have known better. She is, after all, his daughter.
"It is," he says. "We... we saw each other last night."
Sarada doesn't seem surprised. Shisui must have told her he was with him.
"I saw him again, today. We... talked," Sasuke continues, struggling to find the right words. "A lot. We talked about the past, about... us. About a lot of things that happened a long time ago that we never talked about."
He pauses, trying to gauge her reaction. She's just listening, her eyes wide and serious, her expression unreadable.
"And we've decided... we're going to try," he finally manages to say. "To be together."
The world doesn't end. The sky doesn't fall. Sarada just sits there, processing the information. She looks at their joined hands, then back up at his face.
"Together together?" she asks, her voice a small, careful whisper.
"Together together," Sasuke confirms, his voice quiet.
She's quiet for a long moment, then a slow, small smile spreads across her face. It's not a big, beaming smile. It's a small, hesitant, but genuine smile.
"Are you happy, Dad?" she asks. "Really, truly happy?"
A wave of emotion so powerful it almost overwhelms him washes over Sasuke. He feels his eyes well up with tears. He's spent so long being miserable, he'd forgotten what it felt like to be happy.
"Yes," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I am. I'm very, very happy."
Her smile widens. "Good," she says. "That's all that matters."
"Are you... okay with this?" he asks, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. "I know it's... a lot. And it's... complicated."
"It's a little weird," she admits, a small blush creeping up her cheeks. "I mean, my dad and my boyfriend's dad... it's a little weird."
Sasuke can imagine. It's more than a little weird. It's a cosmic joke.
"But," she continues, her expression turning thoughtful. "I want you happy. And... he makes you happy. I can see it. It's like a light turned on inside you. And I've never seen that before."
She pauses, her brow furrowed in thought.
"Are you gonna hang out with him here?" she asks. "At the house?"
Sasuke's heart hammers in his chest. This is it. The moment of truth.
"Not while you live here, unless it is explicitly something you're comfortable with," he says. "Your comfort is the most important thing to me, Sarada. That will never change."
He sees her visibly relax at his words, the tension in her shoulders easing.
"But after your mom gets back, and you go back to her... yes," he says. "He's going to... he's going to move in. With me."
Sarada's eyes widen.
"Move in?" she asks, her voice a squeak. "Like, live with you? Here?"
Sasuke nods, his stomach twisting with nerves. "Yes. If that's... if you're okay with that. When you're not here."
"Wow," she says, her mind clearly reeling. "Just... wow."
"I know it's a lot to take in," Sasuke says.
"It's just... a lot," she says. "But... I'm not mad. I'm not... upset. I'm just... processing."
She looks at him, her expression serious.
"I hope he won't hurt you," she says, her voice quiet. "Again."
"He won't," Sasuke says, his voice firm with a conviction he hasn't felt in years. "He won't. And I won't hurt him. We're done with that."
"Okay," she says. She seems to accept his words. "Then... I'm happy for you, Dad." She says, leaning against him, her head on his shoulder.
Sasuke's arm comes around her, pulling her close. He feels a sense of profound relief. He has his daughter's blessing. It's more than he ever could have hoped for.
"Boruto is going to flip out," she says, a small giggle escaping her lips.
"I hope it won't cause problems for you two," Sasuke says, a new worry taking root in his mind.
"It won't," she says, her voice confident. "It'll be fine. It's just... a lot of weird. But we can handle weird. We're weird."
Sasuke laughs, a real, genuine laugh that feels good in his chest.
"Yes," he says. "We are."
"Though it would be a lot weirder if we had to live together," Sarada says, wrinkling her nose in mock horror. "Can you imagine?"
"No," Sasuke says. "And we don't have to."
"Good," she says.
They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, the TV a low murmur in the background. Sasuke feels a sense of peace settle over him. The first hurdle is cleared. The most important one. He has his daughter.
"Can I ask you something?" Sarada says, her voice a small whisper in the quiet room.
"Anything," Sasuke says.
"When Mom comes back from her research, can we... spend some time together? Just the three of us?"
Sasuke's heart aches for her. He understands. Her world is changing, too. She needs a constant.
"Of course," he says. "Absolutely. We can do whatever you want. We can go on a trip. Or just stay home and watch movies. Whatever you want. Me and your mom, we want to become good friends again. And we both love you more than anything. That will never, ever change."
"Good," she says, her voice small.
He kisses the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. He is so lucky. So, so lucky.
"I love you, Sarada," he says.
"I love you too, Dad," she says.
He gets up, and turns off the TV. The sudden darkness is a welcome thing.
"It's late," he says. "You should get to bed."
"Okay," she says, getting up. She gives him another hug, a quick, tight squeeze. "I'm really glad you're happy, Dad."
"I'm glad you're okay with it," he says.
"Goodnight," she says.
"Goodnight," he replies.
He watches her walk up the stairs, then stands in the quiet living room for a long time, just breathing. The house feels different. It feels less empty. It feels like a home.
He goes to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water. He leans against the counter, looking out the window into the dark backyard. The moon is a sliver in the sky, a pale, shy crescent. He thinks of Naruto. He thinks of his bright, blue eyes, his easy laugh, the way his hand feels in his. He thinks of the promise of tomorrow, of the messy, complicated, beautiful future they have ahead of them.
He feels a sense of calm settle over him, a deep, abiding peace. He has spent seventeen years adrift, lost in a sea of regret. He is finally coming home. He is finally being found.
With that, he goes to his own room. It's a room he's always found to be a bit too neat, a bit too cold. A room that has always felt more like a hotel than a home. But as he looks around now, he sees it through new eyes. He sees it as a space that can be filled. A space that can be lived in. He sees the empty side of the bed not as a symbol of his loneliness, but as a promise of what's to come. A space for Naruto. A space for the two of them.
And when Sasuke falls asleep that night, he doesn't dream of ghosts.
He dreams of the sun.