Chapter Text
The clearing still buzzed faintly with leftover chakra, the air thick with dust that clung to skin and eyelashes. Twilight pressed through the trees, dim and smoky, making everything look unreal — like the world had slowed down just for the two of them. Naruto stood in the center of it, cloak torn at the hem and fluttering lazily behind him, the red clouds glowing like embers every time the wind brushed past.
He looked like trouble.
He looked like heartbreak.
He looked like he belonged in the Akatsuki — except for his eyes.
Those blue eyes didn’t match anything else about him. Not the cloak, not the slashed Leaf plate, not the dark chakra aura that still clung to him from the fight he’d just survived.
Sasuke stared at him anyway.
He stood directly in front of Naruto, arms stiff at his sides, posture locked into place like he’d freeze to death if he moved even an inch. His breathing wasn’t steady. His jaw wasn’t steady. His hands definitely weren’t steady.
And Naruto, of course, saw everything.
Naruto took one small step closer — barely anything — but Sasuke instinctively tensed, like his body couldn’t decide whether to attack or lean into the warmth.
Naruto tilted his head, blond hair falling slightly into his eyes.
Soft voice. Too soft.
“Don’t cry, Sasuke.”
Sasuke’s heart lurched so violently he almost stepped back, but his pride glued his feet to the ground.
“I’m not,” he snapped — but even he heard the wobble in his voice.
A tear escaped anyway.
Treacherous.
Hot.
Visible.
Naruto’s expression shifted in a way that made Sasuke’s breath catch — gentle, familiar, painfully nostalgic. Like the old Naruto was still in there somewhere, trapped under all the black fabric and sharp edges.
Sasuke scrubbed his sleeve across his eyes, but all he managed to do was smear dust and chakra residue across his cheek. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” Naruto asked.
“Like you still know me.”
Naruto didn’t answer immediately. His gaze dropped to the smear of dust on Sasuke’s cheek, then lifted again, blue eyes quiet and unreadable.
He stepped closer — slowly, deliberately — giving Sasuke every chance to pull away.
Sasuke didn’t move.
Naruto raised a hand, hovering for half a heartbeat before pressing his palm gently against Sasuke’s cheek. His thumb brushed the tear trail with unbearable tenderness. Sasuke’s breath stuttered, the warmth of the touch sending an ache ripping through his chest.
It was infuriating how easy it was for him.
How natural.
How familiar.
Naruto’s voice was soft. “You’re crying.”
Sasuke glared at him through the tears. “You left.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t explain anything.”
“I know.”
“You disappeared like the village didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.”
Naruto’s expression flickered — a flash of pain, so quick Sasuke thought he imagined it. But the thumb on his cheek still moved slowly, carefully, like Naruto was trying to memorize the tear before it dried.
Sasuke swallowed hard. “Why did you leave, Naruto?”
Naruto hesitated — only for a heartbeat — but Sasuke saw it. He saw the way Naruto’s shoulders tensed, how his eyes shifted just slightly, like he was weighing whether he’d be allowed to say the truth.
Then Naruto shook his head.
“You’re safer not knowing.”
Sasuke’s frustration spiked into something desperate.
“Safer from what?” His voice cracked. He didn’t even care. “From who? The Akatsuki? You’re with them now? Is that it?”
Naruto’s eyes softened again, unbearably gentle.
“They’re not what you think.”
“Then what are they?” Sasuke demanded. “What are you?”
Naruto smiled — small, sad, way too soft to come from someone the world insisted was a villain. “I’m doing what I have to.”
“You left the village.” Sasuke’s voice almost dropped to a whisper. “You left me.”
That did it.
Naruto’s expression melted into something raw. Something he shouldn’t have let Sasuke see. His thumb brushed another tear from Sasuke’s cheek, slower this time, fingers lingering like they didn’t want to leave.
“Don’t say it like that,” Naruto whispered. “It hurts.”
Sasuke’s eyes widened. His breath froze. For a second, neither of them moved — just the two of them breathing the same air, sharing the same trembling moment.
Naruto finally stepped back, hand dropping from Sasuke’s cheek. The loss of warmth hit hard.
Sasuke sucked in a sharp breath. “Naruto—”
Naruto shook his head. “I can’t stay. Not now.”
“Why?” Sasuke asked again, voice shaking despite him forcing it steady.
“Why won’t you tell me?”
Naruto gave him that tired, bittersweet smile — the kind that made Sasuke’s stomach twist in knots.
“One day,” he said softly. “You’ll understand.”
Sasuke’s glare returned instantly. “I don’t want one day. I want now.”
A hint of something fond flickered in Naruto’s expression. “Still impatient.”
“Still impossible,” Sasuke shot back.
“Still…” Naruto’s voice dropped, almost too soft to hear. “Sasuke.”
Sasuke froze.
His name shouldn’t sound that warm coming from someone dressed like a villain.
Naruto took one step back, cloak swaying. “Don’t cry,” he said gently. “It really doesn’t suit you.”
Sasuke went pink immediately — which only made him angrier — which only made him tear up even more, which was just karmic bullying at this point.
Naruto’s eyes softened even further before he turned away.
As he shifted, the cloak flared just enough to reveal a faint outline of someone else standing at the forest’s edge — silent, still, watching. A shadow with familiar chakra. Familiar eyes.
But Sasuke didn’t notice.
Naruto did.
He dipped his head in the slightest nod — and the silhouette vanished.
Naruto gave Sasuke one last, heartbreakingly soft look…
…and disappeared in a flicker of black and red.
Leaving Sasuke standing alone, fists trembling, tears sliding freely now, heart pounding wildly as one thought echoed through his mind:
Why did he look at me like he was protecting me?