Sasuke didn't bother with subtlety. He waited until Naruto had matched his pace, waited until the prying eyes from the quad fell away, then caught Naruto's arm in a grip meant to be invisible from a distance but iron at the joint. The Alpha steered him off the main walk with surgical efficiency, threading them between two hulking cement buildings that doubled as windbreaks for the north end of campus. The instant they rounded the corner, Sasuke shoved Naruto up against the wall—hard enough to make the impact echo, soft enough not to leave visible marks.
The corridor was a dead zone. Twin walls of poured concrete boxed them in on either side, with barely a yard of space between. Overhead, a stretch of rusted ductwork hummed with the vibration of the building's innards. All the campus's ordinary noise faded into a muffled band of static, punctuated only by the muffled shouts of Alphas somewhere distant, probably reliving the morning's embarrassment at a safer location.
"You're an idiot," Sasuke said, his voice pitched low and surgical as a scalpel. His eyes held none of the blank politeness he wore for public consumption. Here, they were black and furious, every bit of restraint stripped away.
Naruto yanked his arm free, ignoring the prickle where Sasuke's fingers had left white marks behind. "Was that supposed to be a rescue?" He crossed his arms, jaw cocked in a way he clearly meant as defiance, but the effect was undercut by the way his heart beat visible at his throat.
Sasuke angled his body to block the only exit. He leaned in close—too close for comfort, the air thick with residual adrenaline and something sharper. "Are you trying to get caught?" he said. "Because it sure as hell looks like it."
Naruto shrugged, pushing off the wall just enough to stand straight. "Maybe I'm not afraid of a couple Alphas on a power trip. And you're not my boss, so don't act like—"
Sasuke's hand slammed the wall, inches from Naruto's head. The sound cracked through the corridor, making even the birds above them scatter. "You're going to get yourself registered or worse. You want to end up in a medical ward, maybe on Orochimaru's desk for dissection? Go right ahead. But don't drag me with you."
"Wow," Naruto said, voice clipped. "So that's what this is about. Not the girl, not what those assholes did—just you not wanting to get 'dragged' down." He huffed a bitter laugh, but the edge of a tremor betrayed how close the argument had come to home.
"Don't change the subject." Sasuke's words were knives. "You're supposed to be invisible. Blend in. That's the deal."
"Yeah? Well maybe I'm done hiding." Naruto's chin rose. "Maybe if more people stood up, it wouldn't be like this."
"Bullshit," Sasuke said, his eyes flat and bright. "You did it because you can't help yourself. You're reckless. You can't stand being told what to do, not even by your own body."
A flush raced up Naruto's neck. "Don't talk like you know me."
"Oh, I do," Sasuke said, stepping forward so their noses almost touched. "You're textbook: stubborn, impulsive, no regard for collateral damage. It's a miracle you've lasted this long." His own pulse hammered at the base of his throat, visible even through the stiff collar of his shirt.
Naruto opened his mouth, maybe for another volley, but Sasuke's composure cracked. The scent hit the air before he could stop it—a hot, iron-laced wave of Alpha pheromone, raw and thick as blood.
The effect was instant. Naruto's pupils dilated so fast it was visible. He staggered, knees almost giving, breath hitching in a sharp gasp. The defiance on his face evaporated, replaced by shock and something dangerously close to vulnerability.
Sasuke saw it happen and, for half a second, let it. There was a savage pleasure in seeing Naruto's mask slip, watching him scramble for footing as his body betrayed him.
But then something else flickered across Naruto's face—a panic, or maybe a memory, and Sasuke's own stomach twisted. He reined himself in with an effort, dragging the scent back under control like yanking a leash on a rabid dog.
"Shit," Sasuke muttered, all the heat in his posture collapsing into awkwardness. He took a step back, the space between them suddenly enormous. His breath sawed out in controlled bursts. "I didn't— That wasn't—"
Naruto slid down the wall until he landed on the backs of his calves. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to blink away the afterimage of whatever had just detonated inside his head. For a moment, he didn't move at all; then, with a trembling hand, he fished out the battered mint tin, popped the lid, and dry-swallowed a blue pill. His hands shook so badly the pill nearly skipped off his tongue.
"Asshole," Naruto said, voice ragged but steady. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then glared up at Sasuke.
"I know," Sasuke said, voice flat. He didn't look at Naruto, instead fixing his gaze on a point in the cinderblock, jaw clenched so hard it might break. "It was an accident."
Naruto laughed, hoarse and mean. "Sure. Like the last time someone said that to me, right before they tried to drag me to a Registry van." His hands flexed around the mint tin, knuckles nearly splitting the skin. "Just stay the hell away from me, Uchiha."
For a second, it looked like Sasuke might apologize. The words hovered at the edge of his tongue, but he choked them down, rolling his shoulders to reset the tension. "If you get yourself exposed," he said instead, "don't expect me to cover for you again."
Naruto stared at the concrete until the world came back into focus. Then he shoved himself upright, slid the mint tin back into his pocket, and stalked out of the corridor. For a long moment, he stood just outside the mouth of the alley, catching his breath, his whole body still humming with the chemical aftershocks. He didn't look back.
Sasuke remained in the dead zone, back to the wall, one hand pressed to his own throat as if to trap the offending pheromone before it escaped again. He watched Naruto's retreating form until it vanished into the tide of students, then sagged, exhaling the last of the regret like poison.
Neither of them noticed the window above them, where a thin slice of darkness flickered and vanished—a silent witness, already making notes.
-
Naruto slipped into the lecture hall twenty minutes before the hour, a record for punctuality only possible because the alternative was loitering in the hallway, replaying Sasuke's voice and the slap of that pheromone punch on an endless loop. He dropped his backpack on the desk, the impact a deliberate violation of the room's hush, then slouched into the middle row, Beta territory, safe but unremarkable.
The room was already mapped for hierarchy. Alphas colonized the front like a phalanx, gold piping on their blazers catching the light from the tall, grimy windows. Their laughter rolled in controlled waves, a performance for each other. Betas staked out the midsection, heads bent together in the subtle collusion of people who knew their place. At the rear, two registered Omegas—bracelets visible, posture folded—pretended to type notes, their voices never breaking above a murmur.
Naruto's palms still tingled. The blue pill was working, but not fast enough; every time he inhaled, it was as if the memory of Sasuke's pheromone spike hovered just above the air, ready to swoop in and override the chemical suppression. He kept his hands on the desk to keep them from shaking.
Students trickled in, pairs and trios at a time, each group scanning the rows before slotting themselves into the correct social pattern. The chatter built into a hum, over which certain names and words kept surfacing—"Orochimaru," "placement test," "what happened in the quad?" Naruto's own name was, thankfully, absent. He'd managed to be a hero and a nobody, all in the same morning.
He flipped open his notebook, but the lines swam before his eyes. He wasn't sure if it was the aftershocks of the pheromone hit, or the lack of sleep, or the fact that the word "idiot" was still ringing in his ears. Maybe all of it. The fight with Sasuke felt like a movie he'd watched too many times; every frame frozen, every line of dialogue memorized.
He didn't notice when Sasuke entered. He just felt it—a pressure, a static in the air, like the briefest electrical surge before a storm. Naruto hunched down, focusing on the margin of his notes, but he felt every step as Sasuke walked the length of the aisle and took a seat at the very front, one desk in from the left. Not a single glance backward. Not a flicker of acknowledgment. For a minute, Naruto tried to convince himself that was good. He didn't need more attention, didn't want it, but the ache in his jaw said otherwise.
The seat to his right creaked. Kiba slid in, dropping his bag with an energy drink clamped between his teeth.
"Dude," Kiba whispered, grinning with all canines. "I heard what you did this morning. Total legend."
Naruto grunted in response, but the praise, even secondhand, steadied him more than the suppressant. He shot a glance at the front, caught the faintest profile of Sasuke—posture so rigid he might as well have been carved from the chair.
The classroom began to fill in earnest. Sakura swept in next, her pink hair shining in the diffuse sunlight, silver bracelet clacking as she gestured to a friend. She circled the row, took her time, then zeroed in on Sasuke's desk with the precision of a guided missile.
"Oh my god, Sasuke, you were amazing out there," Sakura said, her voice pitched just loud enough for the surrounding Alphas to register. "I can't believe you just stepped in like that. I would have totally freaked."
She let the words hang, then tacked on a breathy laugh that curled around the syllables like the tail of a perfume ad. Subtle, but not for Sasuke's benefit; he barely turned, eyes staying glued to his notebook, the only acknowledgment a faint tightening at the corner of his mouth.
Naruto watched the display from the side, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It was almost funny, the way Sakura threw out a trace of her own pheromones—soft, sweet, impossible to mistake for anything but invitation—and how thoroughly Sasuke ignored it. The other Alphas in the row tensed, as if waiting for a cue, but the main act never played.
Sakura pouted, then dropped into her seat, immediately pulling out her phone and resuming the half-conversation with her friend, who shot periodic glances at Sasuke with a mixture of awe and envy. Naruto felt the burn of it, the way his own presence could be so thoroughly erased from the narrative. He was the one who stood up first, the one who took the hit—but the credit passed straight to Sasuke, as if the incident didn't matter until an Alpha put a name on it.
He drummed his pen against the spiral, the rhythm matching the irritation swelling in his chest.
The Professor arrived, whose only concession to hierarchy was the houndstooth jacket he wore over his standard-issue shirt. He launched immediately into a review of last week's material, his voice a drone that barely breached the social noise in the room.
Naruto scribbled a few notes, but his mind kept jumping tracks—back to the alley, to Sasuke's face inches from his own, the shock in those black eyes when the pheromone pulse hit. To the way it felt, for a half second, to lose control. He remembered the look Sasuke gave him after—regret, or maybe fear, or maybe something more complicated than either. For some reason, that look stayed with him more than the words.
He risked a glance at the front row. Sasuke sat perfectly still, left hand loosely curled on the desk, right hand turning a pencil in precise, measured rotations. Not a single sign he even knew Naruto existed, but the skin at the back of Naruto's neck prickled as if under a spotlight.
Kiba nudged him with an elbow. "You good?" he whispered, voice pitched for his ears only.
"Yeah," Naruto lied, then added, "Just tired."
Kiba nodded, then gestured with a jerk of his chin at the front. "That guy's a machine. Never seen anyone shut down Sakura before. Kinda brutal, but also—" He broke off, sensing the undercurrent, then shrugged. "Anyway. Let me know if you wanna hit the gym later."
Naruto grunted, then went back to the margin of his notes, where he started doodling a pattern of interlocking lines, more map than design. His thoughts drifted back to the fight, to the helplessness, to the panic that crept up the sides of his brain every time he remembered how quickly it all could've blown up. One mistake, one slip, and everything would be over.
The class dragged on, the professor's voice a metronome that marked time without moving it forward. Naruto wrote nothing, learned nothing. He just waited for the period to end, waited for the next decision, the next small disaster. He wondered if Sasuke would say anything after. He wondered if he would want him to.
At the back of the room, the two Omegas never looked up from their screens, heads bent together, separate even in solidarity. Naruto glanced over his shoulder once, just to see. They caught his eye, and he saw the recognition there—not of him, but of the role he played, the place he belonged. It was a warning, or maybe a welcome, depending on the day.
When the bell finally rang, the room dissolved into chaos. Alphas launched from their seats in synchronized motion, Betas swarmed the aisle, and the Omegas at the back vanished before anyone could see them leave.
Naruto waited until the crowd thinned, then shouldered his backpack and started toward the door. He didn't look at Sasuke, not at first, but when he reached the threshold, he paused. Out of habit, or hope, or something more dangerous.
Sasuke stood alone, packing his notes into a perfectly organized bag. He didn't look up, but Naruto caught the subtle shift of his head, the way his body angled ever so slightly in Naruto's direction.
For a second, neither moved. The whole world seemed to contract into the distance between their two desks. Naruto almost said something—almost reached for a word that could bridge the gulf.
Instead, he turned and left, the weight of the silence trailing after him like a shadow.