Simple Questions
Sixteen years ago
Sasuke watched Naruto leave.
Sakura clung to his arm, her belly starting to round with the promise of new life. Kakashi winked at him and disappeared in a swirl of leaves.
Did Kakashi know? Did he enjoy watching Sasuke dig his own grave? To watch him burn with his failures, his body rendered to charred bones and ash, the rising smoke carrying him to the cavernous mausoleum of his home?
The taste of miso lingered thick on his tongue as he ignored the woman next to him. He watched as the night doused that retreating golden halo, the beacon he both chased and ran from. A forgettable woman with silky sheets of midnight hair followed him like a shadow, as she had done for years, a more persistent hunter than the rosy-hued leech attached to him.
This was a mistake.
He had never thought Naruto would be the one to walk away.
The present, as they know it
“Hey, Sasuke,” a too-high voice shouted. “You’re supposed to order!”
Sasuke rubbed his abused ear, glaring at Naruto. His twentieth birthday, the twentieth anniversary of the kyuubi attack, the day Naruto had become Hokage…it hadn’t happened yet. It wouldn’t happen. The indelible marks they had left on each other had proven far less permanent than they hoped. They renewed their definitions of sacrifice and had reborn themselves. A new start in an old world.
“I’ll just get what you’re having,” Sasuke said.
Naruto gave him a scandalized look. “I thought you didn’t like miso. You always ordered—said you liked tonkotsu!”
“Sasuke doesn’t like miso?” his mother asked, peering at him with an amused expression. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Miso is my favorite,” Sasuke said, blushing. The number of times he had secretly eaten cup ramen while on a mission was frankly embarrassing. He would go to the grave with that secret.
“You…” Naruto said, his blue eyes shining like the sea.
Sasuke sighed, leaning back to take in the odd group eating at Ichiraku that evening.
After their meeting with the Hokage, and Naruto’s ill-timed proclamation that Sasuke wanted to be Hokage—he didn’t, that was not in the plan and there would be words—Naruto had insisted they have dinner together. Sasuke’s mother had readily agreed, wanting to spend more time with her best friend’s son. Of course Hokage-jiji came along, couldn’t let the Uchiha head family spend time with the kyuubi jinchuuriki unsupervised. The Hokage being there meant his escort was as well—Itachi out of ANBU uniform and Kakashi in it. Iruka had somehow been swept along with them, and of course the Uchiha clan head and Konoha Military Police Chief Uchiha Fugaku, upon discovering his family was not at home, had hunted them down and inserted himself.
“Miso is my favorite,” Sasuke repeated. “Don’t make me say it again, idiot.”
“Sasuke, it isn’t nice to talk to your friend that way,” Itachi gently chastised.
“Best friend,” Naruto said with a brilliant smile, as if anyone needed a reminder. “He doesn’t mean it, Itachi-nii.”
“Hn.”
Naruto jumped onto his stool. “What was that, bastard? Don’t think I didn’t hear that!”
“Naruto, language!” Iruka snapped, before slapping a hand over his mouth as he realized he had shouted across both the Hokage and Fugaku.
Mikoto put a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, and he sat down with a huff. “Sorry, oba-chan.”
Sasuke rolled his eyes. Naruro’s antics were at least good at dispelling the awkward atmosphere. It was a habit he’d developed in childhood, a habit he was developing again. The loud, obnoxious prankster. The village idiot. Everyone had learned the hard way not to underestimate Uzumaki Naruto, but one look at that innocent, moronic smile would wipe away the memories of him beating them half to death with the strength of his convictions.
Their bowls of ramen arrived and anyone who didn’t know Naruto would think him distracted. While his literal other half inhaled his noodles, Sasuke proceeded at a more sedate pace. He was a well-mannered child from a prestigious clan. He knew how to savor a meal.
“So,” Mikoto said, recovering from the horror of Naruto eating, “you want to be Hokage, Sasuke?”
Sasuke immediately felt the weight of his father’s attention. Fugaku had been sipping sake, exchanging small talk with the Hokage.
“Yes,” Sasuke said, because that was the only thing he could say. “But so does Naruto.”
“We’ll both be Hokage!” Naruto cheered, raising his arms and splashing miso on those nearby.
Sasuke sighed again, wiping his face. “Two people can’t be Hokage.”
“Then you can change that rule when you’re Hokage!”
“What made you want to become Hokage?” Mikoto asked.
Sasuke shrugged. “Naruto.”
“I thought being Hokage was your dream, Naruto,” the current Hokage said.
“I want it to be Sasuke,” Naruto said. “Then everyone will like the Uchiha, because they would like Sasuke and Sasuke is an Uchiha.”
Sasuke heroically managed to swallow his food. It was the dumbest, most Naruto-brained logic, and he knew Naruto had gotten the idea from the incipient coup. The Uchiha clan elders had thought restoring their clan’s prestige in Konoha was as simple as an aggressive change in administration.
One good thing about being children was they had an excuse to ignore the adults' tension. Naruto could say whatever crazy shit came to his ramen-addled mind, consequences be damned.
“That’s a very noble thought, Naruto,” Mikoto said.
“If Naruto became Hokage,” Sasuke said, “then everyone would have to be nice to Naruto.”
Naruto crossed his arms and nodded. A second bowl of ramen was making its way to him. Sasuke wondered who was picking up the tab, and hoped it was Sandaime. That man had a lot to pay for.
“That’s why we’ll both be Hokage,” Naruto declared. “And because we’re best friends, like Hashirama and Madara!”
Fugaku coughed.
“Naruto-kun,” Itachi said, “Uchiha Madara fought Shodai-sama and fled the village.”
“And I bet he felt really stupid after that,” Naruto said, happily accepting another bowl of ramen. “I bet he was really sorry he was mean to his best friend.”
“Perhaps,” Itachi conceded. Sasuke noticed his brother’s own bowl had barely been touched.
“If me and Sasuke fought, and Sasuke was a crybaby and ran away, I would chase him and beat him up again and make him come back,” Naruto said with determination, his fist rising into the air. “I’d defeat him with the power of friendship!”
“I wouldn’t run away, idiot,” Sasuke said, meeting Naruto’s eyes. “And you wouldn’t win. It would be a tie.”
“So we would both win,” Naruto said. He turned back to his ramen and happily slurped it up.
The Hokage chuckled. “It seems you two are wiser than my predecessors.”
“Jiji,” Naruto said seriously, “you need to find someone to keep that hat warm for us!”
“Oh?”
“You’re old,” Naruto said, with all the grace of a child, “you’ve been Hokage twice. It’s not fair! Let someone else wear it!”
The Hokage got a distant look in his eyes. “Perhaps you’re right, Naruto.”
“Hokage-jiji,” Sasuke said, though it pained him to use Naruto’s name for the man. “You were Senju Tobirama’s student. Did you have students?”
“Did you?” Naruto asked, bouncing in his seat. “What about Yondaime? Did he have students?”
The Hokage was a shinobi, an old shinobi, and didn’t outwardly react to this line of inquiry. “Yes, we both did,” he said. “Though it has been a long time since I have seen any of mine. Too long…”
“Hokage-sama’s students were the Sannin,” Itachi explained, having still made no progress on his ramen. Sasuke knew Naruto was eyeing the cooling bowl, and passed it over to him. Itachi didn’t react to this theft. “Orochimaru, who is a missing-nin. Senju Tsunade, a renowned healer, and Jiraiya the Toad Sage.”
“Senju?” Naruto asked, eyes wide.
Itachi nodded. “She is Shodai-sama’s granddaughter.”
“We’re related?” Naruto asked, turning on the Hokage. “I have a baa-chan? Where is she? Why haven’t I met her?”
“Not everyone in a clan is related,” Mikoto said, placing a calming hand on Naruto. He was shaking so hard he was falling off of his stool. Sasuke was stunned at how in character Naruto was acting, though he knew not all of it was an act.
Naruto had talked to him about how betrayed he had felt by Sandaime, Kakashi, Jiraiya, Tsunade, and every other adult who had known the truth. Naruto had only learned the names of his parents by trying to release the kyuubi, an act which would have resulted in his death had he succeeded. But Konoha gave him a hat and pretended the years of casual cruelty were all in the past, swept away by pristine white robes.
“I want to meet her,” Naruto said. “Does she even know I exist?”
“Tsunade—”
The Hokage cut himself off. His first time around, Sasuke had never noticed how very old Sarutobi Hiruzen was. He had outlived three Hokage and survived three wars. He was immensely powerful, even in his old age, though he hid it well behind flowing robes of office and a grandfatherly smile.
“Being a ninja takes its toll,” Fugaku said, the first time he had spoken to the group since his arrival. “Tsunade-hime has had a life harder than most. She left the village a long time ago.”
Sasuke snorted. “Grown ups are supposed to take care of kids. If she’s an Uzumaki clanswomen, she has a duty to Naruto.”
“I have a clan?” Naruto exclaimed.
Teuchi, Sasuke noted, was doing a very good job pretending he didn’t know what was going on. Sasuke suspected the ramen master had known both Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina. He was certain Naruto’s mother had been as obsessed with ramen as her son. No normal person would have named their child after a ramen topping, and in Sasuke’s experience Uzumaki tended to have rather…extreme personalities.
Kakashi appeared like a ghost at the Hokage’s side. “Hokage-sama, it’s getting late.”
“Very well,” the Hokage said, standing up. “Please take Naruto home.”
“But,” Naruto said, turning to Sasuke.
“We’ll see each other tomorrow,” Sasuke said. He wasn’t happy about Naruto going home to an empty apartment either, but he knew they had pushed the adults pretty far in the span of a few hours.
Naruto frowned, then lunged at Sasuke. Sasuke got his arms up in time to hug him back, but a moment later Naruto was tearing down the street, Kakashi in hot pursuit.
“Thank you for the meal,” Sasuke said, lifting his arms so his brother could pick him up. Sasuke didn’t particularly want to be Hokage. He didn’t think Naruto did either. He’d been Hokage for sixteen years, and Sasuke had witnessed the decay. Everything Naruto fought for, everything he believed in, had been buried under piles of paperwork and the yoke of domesticity. Naruto had never really gotten what he wanted, nor had Sasuke, even when all they wanted was each other.
Naruto was being punished for acting out. Apparently his not-so-subtle destruction of Sandaime’s crystal ball and his schoolyard deathmatch with Sasuke were not being overlooked. In the week since their spar, Naruto had been given various chores around the Hokage Tower. Sweeping, wiping windows, acting as a courier for the Mission Assignment Desk. He was currently sorting files spread out on the floor of the Hokage’s office. It was his favorite place to do his punishment. He picked up on a lot of things without anyone knowing. He knew both ANBU sign language and the general Konoha signs. He tracked the traffic in and out of the office. He knew Itachi was hidden near the ceiling, invisible to all senses, and that Itachi watched him almost as much as he watched the Hokage.
At school, the night after ramen, Sasuke had admitted to his own punishment. He wasn’t allowed to hang out with Naruto after school for a week. Mizuki had tried to put them in different seats during class, insisting that Naruto was a distraction, but soon learned that Naruto was actually more well-behaved with Sasuke there to make him pay attention. And Sasuke would simply get up and relocate to wherever Naruto had been moved, intimidating his classmates into giving up their seats.
But it was the last day Naruto would be pressed into labor, kept busy from when school ended until dinner. He yawned, adding the last scroll to its proper pile.
"I'm done, jiji," he said, standing up to stretch. Being Hokage meant no days off. He was always on. Naruto had gone in early and stayed late. During Sasuke's rare visits he'd leave a few clones milling about and fuck off. No one noticed, and if they did there were few who dared criticize him.
The weeks since he and Sasuke had performed the ritual that sent them back, the weeks spent slipping into the life of a six-year-old and acclimatizing, were almost a vacation. At least, Naruto had been spared the tedium of paperwork, and true to form he didn't bother with his Academy homework. To excel academically, doing the same assignments he remembered helping his own children with, wouldn't comport with the plan.
Naruto was mostly on board with it. Prevent the Uchiha massacre, kill Danzo, stop Akatsuki, those were the Big Issues, the things Naruto and Sasuke agreed on. All the whatifs and I wishes. The existential threats.
At his core, Naruto wanted to be happy. He had a vague idea of what that looked like, a life in which Sasuke featured prominently. A life in which he liked the person he became, in which he wasn't a pre-approved set of reactions to the expectations of others.
He didn't want to carry Konoha's burden.
He was tired.
"Thank you for your hard work," Sandaime said, puffing on his pipe and smiling down at Naruto.
"Hey, jiji," he said, putting his hands on the desk, his face a portrait of confusion, "what's Root?"
The Hokage blinked at him. "What was that?"
"Root," Naruto repeated.
"Like the roots of a tree?"
Naruto shook his head. "No, I think it's the name of something. I had a weird dream. There were people with masks, like the animal mask people who follow me. They were talking about me, I think. What's a jinchuuriki?"
The Hokage made a few signs with his hand. Danzo. Now. A dark shape flitted through the window. Naruto screwed up his face.
"That sounds like a very strange dream," the Hokage said. "Let me know if you have any other dreams like that, alright?"
Naruto smiled brightly. "Okay!"
"Run along home, and don't go anywhere tonight," Sandaime said. "Remember, you're still grounded."
"But ramen!"
The Hokage chuckled, but Naruto could read the man and knew the Hokage was pissed. "That's also part of your punishment. Don't worry, you'll get Ichiraku soon enough. Perhaps you can go with Sasuke and his mother?"
Naruto nodded eagerly. "Sasuke says I can't have ramen every day, but I'll prove he's wrong! Bye, jiji!"
In the heart of the Uchiha compound, his family having come to the conclusion that he wasn't being challenged in school—his own fault, but faking a fight with Naruto felt wrong—Sasuke was sparring with his mother. It was shameful how kunoichi were reduced to housewives, and while Sasuke could tell his mother had kept up with her training, she was out of practice. She was a full-blooded Uchiha, and a jounin, but skills dulled when they weren't maintained. She had been out of the field since she was pregnant with Itachi.
Sasuke had never trained with his mother in his previous life. He never had the opportunity. He knew he would find his end in pain and suffering, an agonized eternity in a shinigami's belly for what he had done, but Sasuke couldn't regret it. Seeing Uchiha Mikoto shed the mask of motherhood, flawless moving through Uchiha kata passed down and perfected through the centuries, guiding his thin, ungainly limbs in those secret forms…it was worth it. Everything he had become, everything he had done, he would do it again without hesitation.
A spoiled child, a selfish adult, arrogant and audacious in his rejection of time itself, Sasuke didn't care. His mother was here and alive.
"You're reaching," his mother said. "A taller opponent will take advantage of that."
She demonstrated by knocking him off balance.
"Everyone is taller," Sasuke complained.
"Exactly," his mother said. "That's going to be true until you are fully grown, and even then you'll encounter opponents who are larger than you, or smaller. You're trying to mimic my movements, and are getting drawn into my pace. When you start sparring with your Academy instructors, you'll get more experience in fighting adults. Let's stop here for today. Too much training will stunt your growth. You need to give your body time to relax."
Sasuke sighed, but relaxed his stance. "May I practice ninjutsu?"
His mother smiled indulgently. "You may. After you rest for a bit, we can walk down to the lake."
Hours later, throat raw, face blistered, Sasuke grumpily sat still as his mother applied bandages to his face.
"Why are you pushing yourself so hard?" she asked, sitting back on her heels and looking at him with concern. "Is this because of your brother?"
Sasuke shook his head.
"Do you want to impress tou-san?"
"No."
"Then, Naruto?"
Sasuke scoffed. Naruto was impressed when he breathed. He just wanted to feel more like himself, to silence the old frustration of being too weak that plagued him until Itachi's death. He hadn't even killed his brother, he'd simply worn him out. Itachi had been dying for years before Sasuke got to him.
Being a child brought up so many of the feelings he had buried. Being in the compound, seeing people alive who he remembered best as bloodied bodies seared into his memories by his brother's genjutsu...
"Kaa-san," Sasuke said, pushing away that line of thinking, remembering what he needed to do. "What's Root?"