The Uchiha estate glittered under the moonlight like a palace carved from obsidian and pride. It stretched across acres of private land, its tall walls casting long shadows across the manicured gardens. White lilies lined the walkways in perfect rows, their scent mingling with the sharp freshness of the night air. Lanterns glowed in soft reds and golds, gently swaying from cherry blossom trees that whispered with the wind. Inside the mansion, the grand halls buzzed with preparation. Maids hurried from room to room, finalizing the decorations for the most anticipated wedding of the season: the union of the youngest Uchiha heir.
Sasuke sat in front of the full-length mirror in his private room, motionless. His reflection stared back at him in ornate layers of ceremonial silk. The deep crimson robe, embroidered with silver fan crests and delicate phoenix patterns, shimmered faintly with each breath he took. A thin chain of pearls lined his collar, and his black hair was styled traditionally, adorned with silver clips. But there was no joy in his reflection. No excitement, no anticipation. Only fire. Only panic.
His face was painfully beautiful—sharp cheekbones, porcelain skin, thick lashes framing dark storm-gray eyes, and lips that were always slightly parted in defiance. But that beauty felt like a cage.
"I can't do this," he whispered, the words barely more than breath.
He rose abruptly, ripping the ornate robe off and letting it crumple to the floor like a shed skin. The silk whispered against the wooden floor as it fell, like a quiet farewell. Beneath it, he wore a plain black shirt and loose dark pants he’d hidden away beneath his bed. He moved fast, pulling on a gray hoodie, tugging the hood low over his forehead. He paused at the dresser, digging into the secret compartment behind it and pulling out a small pouch.
Inside: a forged ID under a fake name, his acceptance letter to Konoha Elite Academy, several thick rolls of yen, and an old, worn photo of his parents—Fugaku and Mikoto—smiling in the garden with a much younger version of himself. His fingers lingered on the photo. He pressed it to his chest once before sliding it into his bag.
His disguise was simple, but effective. A light layer of BB cream dulled the flawless glow of his skin. A few faint, painted blemishes on his cheeks. A pair of thick-rimmed glasses covered most of his face. His short, layered black hair—the same length he always kept it—was tucked neatly under a cap. At home, he wore soft, luxurious omega robes, fabrics made for beauty and comfort. Tonight, he wore simple clothes meant for invisibility. Meant for freedom.
The air outside his room was quiet. Too quiet. His brothers were downstairs—Itachi and Obito likely discussing security, Madara on a call with the council, Izuna double-checking that no details were leaked to the press. All of them meant well. All of them loved him. And all of them were suffocating him.
He slipped through the side hallway, boots barely making a sound on the polished wooden floors. He passed the familiar alcove where his mother used to leave him sweets when he was upset. Passed the family room where his father once read to him while stroking his hair. His throat tightened. His hands clenched. But he didn’t stop.
Sasuke reached the garden wall—the outer boundary of the estate—and scaled it with practiced ease. He’d trained his body well in secret, preparing for this night ever since the engagement was announced. Every climb, every hidden weapon, every sparring session—it was all for this.
Just as he swung one leg over, a voice caught him.
"Young Master—!"
He froze. It was one of the older maids, Tomoe-san. She’d been with the family since before Sasuke was born. The one who used to sneak him strawberry mochi after dinner. Her eyes widened with shock, then sadness.
"Please," Sasuke said, voice tight and trembling. "Just this once. Let me go."
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she stepped back, bowing her head with tears in her eyes.
Sasuke leapt down into the alleyway beyond, the sound of his landing muffled by the soft soil.
---
The city never slept. Neon signs blinked above crowded streets. Music played faintly from a nearby arcade. The scent of grilled food and gasoline filled the air. Sasuke walked quickly, head down, heart pounding in his chest.
He caught the late train to Konoha District, his new school bag slung over one shoulder. The train was mostly empty—only a few workers and students heading home. He sat by the window, fingers gripping the edge of the seat.
His reflection stared back at him in the glass. Not Sasuke Uchiha, the heir of a legacy soaked in power and blood. Just a boy in glasses and a hoodie. A nobody.
His fingers brushed over the folded letter in his pocket. His ticket to freedom.
Tomorrow, he would step into a world where no one knew him. Where he wasn’t the Uchiha heir. Not an omega to be locked away. Not a prize to be possessed.
He would finally be free.
He whispered to the window, voice barely audible over the hum of the train:
"Goodbye, cage."
The train sped into the night, carrying him toward a new beginning.
___
The streets of Konoha were quiet under the gentle light of the moon, the usual hustle of the day replaced by an eerie calm. Street lamps glowed softly, casting elongated shadows on the pavement. It was the kind of night where secrets could slip through the cracks, where those desperate for freedom or anonymity could briefly pretend to be someone else.
Naruto adjusted the rim of his cap and pulled his mask up higher over the bridge of his nose. A pair of oversized, nerdy glasses sat crookedly on his face, and he wore a large, drab hoodie that concealed his golden hair. For once, he didn’t want to be the center of attention—he just wanted to walk down the street like a regular guy. No flashing cameras. No screaming fans. No marriage proposals from omegas he had never even spoken to.
But luck, as always, seemed to be laughing at him.
“Is that... Uzumaki Naruto?!” someone shouted from behind.
Naruto cursed under his breath and glanced over his shoulder. A small group of girls had spotted him, the glint of recognition too clear in their eyes. Panic surged through him. He turned and broke into a sprint, his footsteps echoing down the alleyways as his fans began to chase him.
Sasuke, meanwhile, was walking calmly on the sidewalk, his disguise still intact. Baggy clothes hung off his lean frame, glasses framing his sharp eyes, and subtle makeup created the illusion of blemishes on his normally flawless skin. He was enjoying the breeze, the rare feeling of independence. No one knew who he was. No bodyguards. No watchful gazes from overprotective cousins or uncles. Just him, the city, and the quiet night.
Until he heard footsteps.
He turned slightly, eyes narrowing as a boy in a hoodie ran toward him, clearly being chased.
Naruto saw him. Their gazes locked for a brief second. There was something oddly familiar about the boy—something sharp and unreadable in his eyes.
“Help me out!” Naruto hissed as he neared, not waiting for a response.
In one swift move, he yanked Sasuke’s hoodie off his shoulders and threw it on himself. He then snatched Sasuke’s cap and pulled it low over his own face. Between the cap, the hoodie, and his already-worn mask and glasses, Naruto's entire appearance was completely hidden. The hoodie sleeves covered his hands. His golden hair was nowhere to be seen. His build looked smaller. Unrecognizable.
To anyone watching, he was just some Alpha hiding with their Omega.
He quickly stepped forward and gently grabbed Sasuke’s jaw, pulling him closer.
From a distance, it looked like an Alpha stealing a quiet kiss from his partner in the shadows.
Sasuke's eyes went wide. What the actual hell—
The fans skidded to a stop a few feet away, catching sight of the scene.
“Wait… is that…?”
“Oh my god, it’s a couple!”
“Is that the Alpha we were chasing?”
“I don’t think so... the hoodie’s different."
Indeed, Sasuke was standing stiffly, expression somewhere between stunned and murderous.
But the fans weren’t brave—or rude—enough to get closer.
“It’s just a couple. Let’s go. That Alpha looked nothing like Naruto.”
One by one, disappointed and flustered, they turned around and left, muttering and sighing as they disappeared into the night.
And just as Naruto relaxed—
Someone stumbled while walking past, bumping into him from behind—
He fell forward.
Lips crashed.
For a moment, time froze.
Sasuke’s brain short-circuited. Naruto’s body was warm, and the kiss was real. Unexpected. Brief.
Naruto jerked back quickly, face beet red even under the shadow of the hoodie. “Shit! That wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—!”
The street was empty now. No fans. No noise.
Only them.
Naruto let out a breath of relief and slowly took off the cap and hoodie, returning Sasuke’s belongings.
“That worked,” he said with a breathless laugh. “They didn’t recognize me. Thanks for letting me borrow these.”
Sasuke took his things silently, his gaze sharp, calculating.
“I knew it,” he muttered.
Naruto tilted his head. “Huh?”
“You’re Uzumaki Naruto.”
Naruto pulled down his mask and grinned. “Guilty.”
Sasuke stared at him for a long beat.
The golden-haired model. The Alpha every Omega and Beta talked about. And now, the guy who had just kissed him.
Naruto rubbed the back of his neck. “So… sorry about the kiss. That wasn’t exactly on purpose.”
Sasuke gave him a withering look. “I noticed.”
Still, his heart was racing.
Naruto stepped back. “Well, I owe you. Thanks for helping a random Alpha on the run.”
Sasuke arched a brow. “I didn’t help. You stole my stuff.”
Naruto grinned sheepishly. “Details.”
Sasuke turned, tossing the cap back on his head and tugging on the hoodie. “Next time, don’t drag strangers into your mess.”
Naruto watched him walk away, and says. “I hope there won't be a next time.”
Sasuke didn’t look back .
And just like that, a night of chaos had become a memory neither of them would be able to forget.