Sasuke has been missing for two months and three days. (And five hours, if Naruto cared to count to that extent, which he doesn’t.)
In truth, Sasuke may have been missing for a lot longer than that. He’s always coming and going from the village anyways, stopping in to visit only to leave for another week. If Naruto was lucky, Sasuke would stay the night before taking another month long(undercover, dangerous, life threatening, far away)mission.
But the fact was that Konoha was a safer place without him there, as much as it pained Naruto to acknowledge. Plus, at the moment, there were far too many ghosts in Konoha for it to be a home to Sasuke. The war had been a mere year ago.
The village itself was nowhere near full recovery, even with additional help from new allies. Sasuke wasn’t any closer.
Naruto had understood this from the beginning, directly after their battle. He’d known, even if Sasuke hadn’t been ready to admit it to himself.
So he never pushed Sasuke’s decisions. Never disagreed. Never asked him to stay.
The fact is that he probably should have, at least once. Even if it made Sasuke sulk. Even if it had made him yell and think of old memories and finally start peeling into the things that have been buried into his subconscious for almost a decade, now. Because at least, then, it would be more than the tip toeing they did every time they met up. At the very least, then, Naruto would walk away from their awkwardly silent coffee dates knowing more than he did walking in.
But he never asked. Because after prying for so many years, Naruto doesn’t want to. He isn’t scared of the answers he might get. No. He’s terrified that getting answers will push Sasuke further away, and that is the one thing he’s vowed to never do again.
Now, he wishes he had stared Sasuke straight on and demanded he spill his Uchiha angst right into Naruto’s lap.
Because he’s been gone for two months now.
The fact is that Sasuke may have been missing for an amount of time Naruto did not want to think of. But no one had taken notice until two months, three days, and five hours ago.
With every passing second, he reminds himself that he’d taken too long to notice.
Two months and three days(and six hours)too long.
//
Life doesn’t stop.
They don’t tell you about that part.
Sakura had been the first to suggest Naruto get professional help, but Shikamaru was the one who had forcefully put the plan into action by dragging Naruto by the ear to his appointments.
His therapist’s name is Miya. She’s a middle aged woman with dirty blond hair and odd jewellery, but she doesn’t make him think he’s crazy, so he starts going to his sessions without Shikamaru’s help(as much as it is appreciated.)
He talks to Miya about the things that come to mind. Any thing’s are fine. She doesn’t make him stick to a topic.
“This is your time, Naruto,” She’ll say, mouth curving upwards, pen bobbing. “You can spend it however you like.”
The main thing they discuss for the first few weeks(after he gets comfortable with her, that is)is his guilt. Or, that’s what he thinks it is, anyways. Guilty that after years of work on both of their ends, Sasuke hadn’t ever gotten to really settle in. He’d never gotten a taste of the normal, banal life that Naruto had promised he’d get to return to, just as soon as Sasuke was ready.
It used to claw at Naruto’s throat, day and night.
Now, he washes it down with tea and raw carrots, because Miya says that having midnight snacks is a healthy coping mechanism, as long as the snacks aren’t too sugary(or ramen).
At first he wished everything would just stop. How dare the earth keep turning when someone so monumentally important had disappeared off the face of the it? How dare they try to understand his feelings, how dare they give up the search, how dare they assume Naruto couldn’t sense him out there, how dare they, how dare they.
Miya says those thoughts are normal. It’s just part of grieving a long-term friendship.
After eight months, Naruto begins to believe her.
//
“You really didn’t have to—“
“C’mon, man, it’s not like you were busy or anything,” Kiba grins, lifting his glass of sake in Naruto’s direction. “We’re your friends! Of course we wanted to get you dinner and alcohol.”
“Mainly alcohol,” Shikamaru says, slurping down the last of his cup and reaching over to refill it.
“Mainly dinner!” Choji chimes, mouth full of BBQ and rice.
Naruto rubs the back of his neck, knowing he’s stricken out this time around. All of his female friends were sensitive enough to leave him alone today, but of course these idiots were too bored with their lives to access their sensitive sides.
Except maybe Choji. Naruto might have expected different from Choji, but only if there hadn’t been any BBQ involved.
“Well…” Naruto forces a chuckle, allowing Shikamaru to pour his sake. “Thanks!”
They shout their approval, knocking their glasses together.
“So how have things been lately?” Naruto asks. He picks at his beef absently.
“Temari's starting to get antsy,” Shikamaru says. “I think she expects a proposal soon.”
“Hey, that’s great though!” Choji beams, loud and bright, aiming his chopsticks at Shikamaru as he snaps them a few times.
“Yeah, guess so. Dunno how to go about it though. It’s such a bother.”
“Sucks for you,” Kiba says. “Asking Tamaki was a piece of cake.”
“Oh, I had no idea you two were engaged,” Naruto sits up a little straighter in his seat, lifting his eyebrows at Kiba.
“Yeah, me neither!” Choji frowns.
Shikamaru chugs another glass down.
“Yeah, we wanted to keep it on the down low for a while. But the wedding plans are underway, so I don’t think it’ll stay a secret too much longer.”
“Congrats, man,” Naruto smiles, and it’s almost completely genuine.
He pours them all another round of sake and ignores the pangs in his chest.
It isn’t until near midnight that Naruto escapes the restaurant, and the cool night air is a stark contrast to the stuffy air inside. He welcomes it, leaning into the breeze and stuffing his hands into his pockets.
The walk home is long. He makes it longer by taking the scenic route, leading straight through the forest.
It’s good that his friends are getting on with their lives. So good.
He can’t wait to see Kiba all dressed up for the wedding, hair slicked back. He’ll look like a total cheapskate.
Naruto grins a little at the image.
He half thinks Temari will have to propose to Shikamaru, just because the dumbass is so lazy, but then he thinks of how stubborn Shikamaru can be, and decides that he’ll probably ask in his own time.
Even Chouji had met someone; a girl from the Hidden Cloud, too. He was bound to take their relationship further soon enough.
Naruto kicks a stray rock on the path, watching as if flies into a bush.
He wishes his birthday was any day but today.
Miya wanted him to journal about his day went to discuss in their session tomorrow, but Naruto feels spent enough already. If he even makes it home at all, he probably won’t be feeling up to writing.
He’ll end up scribbling a few lines down tomorrow morning. It’ll be fine, even if they’re complete lies.
It would be hard to journal, either way. Just like it was hard getting himself off of his couch this afternoon to meet Shikamaru. Just like it was hard forcing food down his throat.
Today is his least favourite day ever. And it only recently became his least favourite.
His birthday used to be far up there, right beside Christmas and the last rounds of the chunin exams.
On his birthday, when he was young, the Third Hokage would bring him a gift. Sometimes it was a toy, and sometimes it was new clothes. But most of the time it was extra money, so Naruto could spend it on anything he wanted.
Iruka would treat him to as much ramen as he could eat, and maybe, if no one was looking, he’d let Naruo have a small sip of sake, just because he was getting to look so grown up.
Then, as he got older, there were more people to split the ramen bill. More people to accept gifts from. More people to laugh with, and share sake with, and have the best time with.
Now…
Naruto stops.
He hadn’t meant to come this way. When had he strayed from the path?
Today, exactly a year ago, Uchiha Sasuke had disappeared. More like today was the day people started to seriously worry that he had.
On Naruto’s birthday of all days. That bastard, taunting him from beyond the grave.
The smooth obsidian of the Stone Memorial glints in the moonlight, and his eyes dart to a familiar spot without meaning to.
Sasuke’s name, right there. Proof that he’s really gone, even when Naruto wakes up thinking he might not be. A darkness to snuff out the light of hope. A good thing, even if he’d hated it for a long time.
He’d spent countless nights out here. Right utop the surface of the memorial, lying down to bask in the memories. Staring at Sasuke’s name until it was burned into his corneas; until he could still see it when he closed his eyes.
Naruto shuts his eyes again. Allows himself to daydream, just for a second.
He sees a twelve year old him with two other teammates. He sees two packed lunches and one grumpy ninja teacher. He feels the sun on his skin, the rope around his torso. He hears the clicking of chopsticks on plastic, and then silence. He feels the warmth of his teammates’ compassion.
He remembers what it felt like. To feel like he was loved for the first time in his life. To feel like he was part of a family, and that he was worth fighting for.
Naruto opens his eyes as a harsh wind rustles the leaves, and looks up at the cold, blank glow of the moon.
Happy birthday to me.