Naruto woke with the sense of having been watched all night, only to find himself perfectly, clinically alone. The room was cold and stank faintly of ozone, the byproduct of too many charged emotions and the chemical tang of residual pheromones. He reached out by reflex for the battered alarm clock and nearly clocked himself in the face, the movement too abrupt, too certain, as if his body were trying to catch up with a dream he'd already forgotten.
He lay still for a moment, feeling the cheap mattress try to mold around his shoulders and fail, every spring a tiny betrayal. His gaze roved the ceiling, tracing the same crack he'd counted every morning since moving in. The shadow along the far wall signaled daylight, but the other bed—Sasuke's bed—was empty, linens smoothed as if by a funeral director. The absence was so precise that it felt like an accusation.
The old tension flared in Naruto's chest. He remembered, then, with a fresh wave of embarrassment and anger, the previous night's standoff: the heat, the helplessness, the handshake that lingered as if neither of them wanted to commit to letting go. "If I say stop, you stop," he'd said. And Sasuke, face unreadable, had nodded. Agreed. But now Sasuke was gone, leaving behind only the faint impression of his body on the mattress and the sharper memory of his fingers against Naruto's wrist.
Naruto sat up, the sheet clinging to his thigh, damp with old sweat. He blinked until his eyes stung, then swung his feet onto the floor, toes curling against the synthetic rug. The dorm was exactly as he'd left it: his side a disaster zone of half-zipped backpacks and loose-leaf notes, the desk a graveyard for old pens and ramen wrappers; Sasuke's side a study in geometric restraint, every object squared off to its own orbit, not a scrap of personality in sight.
The only evidence that Sasuke had even been here were two black hairs on the pillow, perfectly parallel, and the faintest hint of his scent—cedar, static electricity, some undertone that always made Naruto's skin prickle. He hated how much he noticed it, hated that it followed him from waking to sleep and back again.
He dragged himself to the bathroom, eyes fixed on the floor tiles to avoid the warped mirror. Cold water hit his face as he scrubbed at his skin, washing away the night's evidence. When he finally forced himself to look up, a stranger stared back—someone marked by last night's surrender, by Sasuke's hands on his body during the heat. His cheeks flamed hot enough to steam the glass.
Back in the room, he fumbled with the pill bottle, tapping a suppressant into his palm with shaking fingers before swallowing it dry.
Finally Naruto collapsed back onto his unmade bed, fishing the dog-eared notebook from beneath his pillow. His pen hovered over the page for a moment before he began to write, each word an attempt to cage the chaos of the night into neat, manageable lines.
- "Uchiha knows. Not reporting. Terms = dangerous. Why? New agenda? Figure out ASAP."
- "Sasuke = possible ally, possible threat. Don't get complacent."
Naruto sighed and flipped backward through the notebook, seeking refuge in the cold facts of his investigation. The timeline stared back at him, each entry more desperate than the last:
January 17: Kurama's disappearance.
January 16, 2:00 AM: Last phone call. Voice tight, words clipped.
January 10: "Can't hang out. Advanced Biochemistry test." First cancellation in months.
December 9: Video call. Dark circles under eyes. "School's rough." Wouldn't elaborate.
The entries stretched back for pages, meticulous documentation of a brother slowly vanishing. But after January 17, nothing but empty lines—a calendar of absence that taunted him with its blankness.
Naruto gathered his things with movements just shy of frantic, stuffing the mint tin full of backup suppressants into the inside pocket of his backpack. He double-checked the lining, made sure the false bottom lay perfectly flush.
He yanked on his jacket and zipped it to his throat though the weather report had promised sunshine. The air in the room bit at his skin now that Sasuke was gone, and he hated himself for noticing the difference.
Naruto's fingers hovered over the doorknob. Last night's handshake replayed in his mind: the firm pressure of Sasuke's palm against his, that thumb sliding over the thin skin of his wrist where his pulse jumped. Heat crept up his neck to his ears. Their agreement—Sasuke's low voice saying "I'm the only one who helps you"—twisted in his stomach like a live wire. Not just extortion, but something that made his throat dry. Something that felt like standing at the edge of a cliff.
Whatever it was, it wouldn't last unless they had a real conversation. Rules. Boundaries. Or at least an understanding about how much danger either of them was willing to tolerate.
Naruto squared his shoulders, jaw set, and yanked the door open. The hallway was silent except for the faint drone of fluorescent lights. Somewhere down the hall, a shower ran, pipes banging with pent-up pressure. He moved quickly, letting the momentum carry him away from the dorm, down the stairs, and into the uncertain clarity of a new day.
-
The quad at Konoha College for the Elite was more than a patch of grass and brick walkways—it was a living chart of power, a Petri dish where secondary gender played out as public theater. Even in the relative quiet of morning, the hierarchy wrote itself across every inch: Alphas in their gold-piped blazers swaggered down the central avenue, Betas trailed in flanking clusters, eyes flicking nervously for openings, and the few Omegas who braved this time of day stuck to the margins, moving in tight, defensive knots.
Naruto ducked his head and pressed forward, resisting the urge to keep looking back for Sasuke. Their deal from the night before was already starting to chafe; every time a new Alpha crossed his line of sight, he wondered if this was the one who'd catch him off-guard, who'd notice the slip, the tell, the secret burning under his skin.
He was halfway to the science complex when the real trouble started.
It was a flash at the edge of his vision—a silver glint, then the unmistakable whimper of distress that made every Omega on campus flinch, no matter how tough they pretended to be. Naruto twisted around and saw her: small and almost fragile-looking, trying to edge past three Alpha boys who had her boxed in beneath the overhang of the language building.
They were textbook: one tall and broad-shouldered, hair shorn tight to the scalp, the second lanky with a smirk already etched into his face, the third built like a linebacker with hands the size of dinner plates. All wore the same uniform, but with small, calculated violations—top buttons undone, sleeves rolled tight, shoes scuffed just enough to prove they didn't care.
She tried to sidestep, but the first Alpha stepped in, palm up as if to offer help, then "accidentally" brushed her hip. She flinched, making herself smaller. The second Alpha blocked her retreat, using the wall as leverage to lean in close. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply near her neck.
Naruto ducked his head, trying to blend into the stream of passing students. Not his business. Not his problem. Then the Alpha's voice cut through the crowd: "Don't be coy, we smelt an omega in heat last night. Just trying to get our attention, right?" His lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer. The other two Alphas exchanged glances, then burst into laughter. Nearby Omegas ducked their heads and hurried past.
Naruto froze mid-step. Last night. His stomach twisted with the realization—they'd caught traces of his scent, but were blaming her. His fingers went cold. He turned, jaw clenched, and barreled forward without thinking, without calculating the risk or the fact that he was half their size. He muscled between the first and third Alpha, arms spread wide, planting himself directly in front of Hinata.
"Back off," Naruto said, louder than he'd intended. His voice didn't have the raw volume of the Alphas, but it cracked with an intensity that made the trio pause.
The first Alpha cocked his head, a smile breaking slowly across his face. "You got lost, Beta?" He looked Naruto up and down, sizing him with a single glance. "Or maybe you're the rescue party?"
Naruto stood his ground. He felt the burn of adrenaline, the urge to bare teeth, to fight or flee or—worse—submit. He locked his jaw and glared at the guy, hoping the fire in his eyes would be enough to keep his own body chemistry from betraying him.
"She's not interested," Naruto said, each word a tiny act of defiance. "Get a life."
The second Alpha snorted and leaned forward, looking past Naruto as if he were nothing but air. "Come on, sweetheart, don't be like that," he said, his coffee-soured breath washing over them both. "We just want to know your name."
The omega shrank further, the silver bracelet on her wrist flashing as she tried to retreat behind Naruto. The third Alpha rolled his eyes, bored now that the entertainment had shifted, and took a step back.
The first Alpha wasn't backing down. He moved in close, pressing his chest against Naruto's, a clear display of size and rank. "Move," he said, low and dangerous. "Don't want to break you."
Naruto didn't move. He could feel his pulse racing, could feel the chemical backlash starting in his stomach, but he forced himself to hold steady. If he flinched, it was over.
The Alpha's face contorted with rage, nostrils flaring. A wave of dominance rolled off him—sharp and metallic like blood on teeth—as his control slipped. The pheromones hit Naruto like a physical blow, nothing like Sasuke's cedar-smoke scent; this reeked of rancid meat left too long in the sun. His stomach lurched as it seeped through his pores, triggering something primal. His body, keyed up and off-schedule from the suppressant, started to rebel. A sweet-sour surge crawled up the back of his throat, threatening to expose everything. He ground his teeth and fought it down, blinking away tears as his knees threatened to buckle.
The second Alpha, sensing victory, stepped forward and flicked Naruto on the forehead. "Beta hero," he said, voice full of mock admiration. "You really want to get beat up." His fingers flexed at his sides, knuckles cracking.
That was when Sasuke appeared, cutting through the crowd like a knife.
He didn't shout, didn't threaten, didn't have to. He simply walked up and stood behind Naruto, close enough that Naruto felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, caught the familiar cedar-and-smoke scent before he even turned. But something was off—the scent had an acrid edge to it, like charcoal about to ignite. Naruto's shoulders tensed involuntarily, his body recognizing the presence before his mind did. When he glanced back, Sasuke stood with arms folded and face blank as stone, but his jaw twitched with a tension that made Naruto's stomach drop. Was Sasuke mad at him? No—couldn't be. He was just helping someone.
"Is there a problem here?" Sasuke asked, his voice so cold it actually dropped the temperature a few degrees.
The first Alpha stiffened, recognizing Sasuke as Sasuke added, "I'm reporting this to the deans office. Bullying an Omega is an automatic expulsion, you know that, right?" Naruto exhaled, relief washing over him. Sasuke's anger wasn't directed at him after all—though the way those dark eyes had briefly flicked to him suggested there might be a conversation later.
The third Alpha, who'd already checked out, immediately took two steps back and pretended not to have been involved. The second Alpha's bravado dissolved, leaving him wide-eyed and stammering.
The first Alpha, the leader, tried to muster a comeback. "We were just helping her find her class," he said, but it sounded flat even to him.
Sasuke's mouth barely moved. "You're blocking her path. Let her go."
The first Alpha hesitated, then backed off, palms up in mock surrender. "Whatever, man. Wasn't worth it anyway." The trio dissolved, muttering to themselves, the threat evaporated as quickly as it had come.
Sasuke stayed exactly where he was until they were out of sight. Only then did he turn his gaze on Naruto. Their eyes met, and a chill raced up Naruto's spine, electric and unsettling. Something dangerous flickered behind Sasuke's dark irises—concern or anger, Naruto couldn't tell which. He deliberately broke the contact, turning away from whatever that look meant to face the girl still trembling behind him.
Naruto bent slightly to meet her downcast eyes. "Hey—are you alright?" he asked, trying to ignore the prickle at the back of his neck that told him Sasuke was still standing there, watching.
Her face flushed red, but her hands were steady as she nodded. "Thank you," she whispered, so soft only Naruto heard it. She hesitated, then extended her hand, the silver bracelet catching the light. "My name is Hinata."
Naruto took her hand, feeling the cool metal of her bracelet brush against his wrist. "Naruto. It is nice to meet you." He smiled, focusing entirely on her face and not on the shadow that loomed just at the edge of his peripheral vision.
"Let's get to class," Sasuke's voice cut through the moment, closer than Naruto had expected. He'd already started walking without waiting for agreement.