Title: In Good Time
Rated: R
Pairing: SasuNaruSasu
Summary: With their livelihoods at stake, Naruto tries to hold together his village and Sasuke tries to make sense of it all.
Notes: For rosalui.
–
i.
Naruto took his five dozenth turn around the room, shoes skirting the characters of the seal scrawled into the floor. Sasuke rubbed his fingers against the skin between his eyebrows.
“Would you stay still?” Sasuke said. Naruto’s frustration was infecting the other ninjas in the room. “I’m sure it’s just a minor delay.”
“It’s been an hour,” Naruto pointed out. Sasuke was aware of how much time had passed. He’d been counting the minutes by Naruto’s pacing.
Naruto paused at the edge of the seal, arms crossed, and tapped his fingers in a restless fashion against his upper arm. Placed within the circle that stretched fifteen feet in diameter across the floor was twenty jugs of water and five crates filled with food stuffs. It was as much as Naruto could spare this week, which, Sasuke noted, was still more than what Kakashi had advised Naruto to send.
He and Gaara had an arrangement. Supplies were placed within the seal, and Suna summoned them at a predetermined time. It was quick and efficient, and the only means available to them now that blockades and checkpoints had been set up along every trade route and major road leading to and from Konoha.
Gaara had never been late before. It was possible that he was simply delayed, what with having to hold together a village on the edge of starvation.
After watching Naruto pace for another few minutes, his quick steps echoing his impatience, a knock at the door interrupted Sasuke from berating Naruto further. A tall jounin entered and bowed to Naruto. In his hand was a missive, Suna’s symbol stamped onto the front of it.
Naruto read it with brows narrowed and an unhappy set to his mouth. When he finished, he handed it without a word to Sasuke, and strode from the room.
Sasuke flipped open the missive. It read:
To Uzumaki Naruto, Rokudaime Hokage
I would see you in person to deliver this message myself, but I am unable to leave Suna in its current state. I wish to thank you for the aid you have provided us, aid which you were under no obligation to send, and which has caused you to spread thin the supplies you retain. With that in mind, we can no longer accept your help, and I urge you to hold onto the resources you have. Because I know you will, try not to worry about us. Suna will weather this as it has weathered many adversities before.
XXXX
Godaime Kazekage
#
Friday evening found Sasuke alone at his dinner table, which was a squat four by two stretch of dark wood and the only piece of furniture he owned aside from the sofa and his bed. His apartment was sparse due to preference, not lack of imagination as Naruto had once suggested. Naruto had tried, over the years, to leave his impression on the place–small paintings and miscellaneous trinkets, the occasional gaudy lamp and odd patterned rugs. Sasuke had relocated each item to either Naruto’s rooms in the Hokage tower or his office, which resulted in a rather eclectic assortment of odds and ends. Naruto refused to redecorate though, despite the way visiting dignitaries tended to pause at the threshold to his office and double check the sign on the door.
He’d prepared a simple dinner–rice flavored with soy sauce and a bit of fish on the side. He was rationing his own food supplies, just as the rest of Konoha had taken to doing.
A month prior, the Daimyo of Fire Country had canceled all exports to Konoha and forbid all independent vendors from trading with them. A few had gotten past the checkpoints, but for the most part, Konoha had been left to its own devices. Overpowering them militarily was, for the time being, not possible, so the Daimyo had settled on crippling their economy by refusing the village its main source of income–missions–and cutting off trade. The hidden villages had never been designed to be self sustaining and, with Konoha’s coffers dwindling and food and water in limited supply, the Daimyo probably believed it was only a matter of time before Naruto submitted to his will and disbanded his ninjas.
The Daimyo obviously didn’t know the current Hokage.
On a normal Friday evening, Naruto would have taken his dinner with Sasuke, but he’d canceled several hours earlier. Sasuke hadn’t needed to ask why. Naruto was probably still trying to convince Gaara to accept one last load of supplies. Many of Konoha’s villagers were farmers, the land and climate being suitable to agriculture. Despite the food shortage, they were not yet at risk of starving.
Suna, on the other hand, relied heavily on trade and imports, being located in the middle of a desert. Wind Country’s Daimyo had also taken control over Suna’s primary water resources. Without an adequate source of water, it was only a matter of time before Suna crumbled in on itself.
An extra bowl of rice sat on the counter in the kitchen, just in case Naruto realized his efforts to help Gaara were futile and showed up for dinner after all. Their dinners had become part of a system, not one put into place by Sasuke. Naruto, on account of being so busy, had something of a weekly rotation for his friends.
Naruto’s weekends were generally reserved for Sasuke (and Sakura when her time table permitted). This wasn’t entirely true, however, since Naruto made time every day for Sasuke between and during meetings, training, ramen breaks (minus Wednesdays when Sai came along). Sasuke had grown used to Naruto’s constant company, even if he found himself wanting to lock Naruto in a bathroom from time to time in order to have a moment alone.
He finished his dinner, glad of the silence, and didn’t think to question Naruto’s whereabouts when he put away the food on the counter. It had gone cold.
#
The next afternoon, Sasuke joined Sakura near the river to share a late lunch and sharpen their weapons. She set the food–rice and miso soup, small portions–out on a tray between them and they ate in between handling their weapons and the low hiss of their whetstones. It was late summer, and the air off the river was cool relief from the sun’s heat that sat against his shoulders and crept warm fingers down his back. In a few months, Konoha’s farmers would harvest their crops, and Naruto would determine whether it’d be enough to last the village through the winter.
Konoha was fortunate though. Winters were mild, and some farmers would continue to plant, despite the possibility of frost, which tended to be the worst winter brought to this part of Fire Country.
“So how was Naruto’s date?”
Sasuke paused with his whetstone against the blade of his sword. “What date?”
Sakura gave him the sort of look one might give a talking fish. “Er… I assumed Naruto had told you, since he tells you everything.”
Clearly, Naruto didn’t tell Sasuke everything. Sasuke said this to Sakura, who responded with a light shrug and returned to sipping at her soup.
“A few of us thought it’d be nice for him to just relax for one night and maybe focus on himself instead of worrying about the whole village. It was sort of a blind date. Well, on Naruto’s part anyway.”
She didn’t elaborate on who specifically those ‘few of us’ involved, and Sasuke didn’t care to ask.
“I had assumed he was still trying to get a hold of Gaara.” It didn’t matter that Naruto hadn’t explained why he’d canceled dinner with him, as Naruto rarely explained himself unless questioned or feeling guilty about something. He had no interest in Naruto’s private life, but thought he would welcome Naruto’s attention being diverted to someone else.
It had been long whispered among the ninja ranks that Sasuke was the Hokage’s “favorite”–not said as such by himself, of course, but a murmured secret that had probably deliberately not been kept a secret unless jounin had the same lack of control over their verbal impulses as pre-Academy children. Sasuke didn’t care what Naruto’s ninjas chose to gossip about, so long as they kept their drivel to themselves, but it would still be nice to have that patronizing title put to rest.
“I think it’d be nice for Naruto to have one person to focus his affection on, don’t you? He just…” She sighed, and Sasuke wondered at the weariness in it. “He loves the entire village. So very much. It does get to be a bit much sometimes, doesn’t it?”
Sasuke chose to believe her questions were rhetorical and didn’t reply. What did she mean by it getting to be a bit much?
Sasuke remembered the time Naruto had wanted to take all the new genin on a camping trip to Fire Country’s northern forests–territory over which the ownership had, at the time, been in dispute between Konoha and one of Fire Country’s lesser Daimyo. Sasuke recalled remarking on Naruto’s methods, which may or may not have involved telling Naruto to just pee on the trees in that part of the country if he wanted to prove how useless he was as a leader. It had effectively worked in canceling the trip.
Then there was that time Naruto had declared his birthday free ramen day, and the crowd that had gathered at Ichiraku Ramen to eat with Naruto would have stretched out clear to Suna if a line or any sort of organization had been enforced. Naruto had footed the bill, which had forced the council to garnish the wages of every mission for a month. Naruto had made it up to his ninjas though by giving them all a week off and if, during that time, Naruto had gotten more correspondence from Gaara than usual inquiring about the state of Konoha’s welfare, then Naruto didn’t speak about it.
“I just think that, when he’s not worrying about thousands of people, it’d be nice for him to have just one person to focus on. Naruto hasn’t been focused on any one person since he was still trying to bring you back.”
Sasuke gave her a sharp look to see if she’d meant anything by that. She was staring off toward the river, her soup cup cradled between her palms, a thoughtful look in her eyes. Sasuke snorted and looked away.
#
Somewhere along the way, Sasuke had become Naruto’s unofficial assistant. Sasuke attributed this to a combination of the lack of missions and Naruto’s tendency to do paperwork in Sasuke’s presence and then ask Sasuke to look them over for him, thereby forcing Sasuke to rewrite them entirely into something coherent and resembling structured sentences. For the time being, Sasuke didn’t mind. It kept him busy.
It was Monday, which meant Naruto met with Neji and Hinata, his two liaisons with the Hyuuga main and branch families. The three of them had, since the moment of Naruto’s inauguration, been working to change the Hyuuga, but with nearly the entire main family in opposition, Naruto had had a rough time of it. Kakashi had advised him against making so many enemies in the clan, despite that he stood behind the changes Naruto wanted to effect.
Sasuke didn’t know how he felt about the Hokage meddling in the affairs of the clan. The last thing Naruto needed was the Hyuuga coordinating a coup in the same fashion the Uchiha had.
Today, Kakashi had joined their meeting. Sasuke sat against the far wall, beside a standing lamp made to look like a hunched old man with a fishing rod, and sorted through lists of inventory to determine the week’s rations.
“Several of our elders believe we should send a team to the capital and–” Hinata paused, looking apologetic, “–impress upon the Daimyo how much he needs Konoha.”
Sasuke mentally scoffed. He didn’t know what ancient treaties, if any, kept the Hyuuga clan in Konoha. As far as he could tell, they were loyal to the Hokage through little more than convenience and happenstance. Regardless, nothing had made Naruto’s and the Hyuuga’s priorities align more quickly than a threat to their livelihoods. The Hyuuga’s influence was rooted in their superior abilities as ninjas. Without that rank, they would be little more than a clan of outcasts.
“I wish I could just knock a few heads together and have that be that,” Naruto said with a long suffering sigh.
“Using physical force would only play into their hands,” Neji said. “It would prove correct their propaganda about us being dangerous to the government and using our abilities to assert control.”
Naruto rubbed a hand through his hair. Sasuke watched the way Naruto’s hair fell against his cheekbones before looking back down at his lists.
“It’s such bullshit.”
Sasuke snorted in agreement.
“What we need is a diplomatic solution,” Kakashi said.
From gathered intelligence, not everyone felt this way. There had been several reports of riots breaking out in Earth Country and a number of civilian deaths.
“I’ve got Shikamaru working on something,” Naruto said, which made Sasuke’s head twitch up in interest. “He travels a lot between here and Suna and it’s only a small detour to pass through the capital. He’s been poking around to try and find where this all originated from. Who spoke out first and why.”
“What do you think, Sasuke?”
Sasuke looked up at the question, posed to him by Kakashi, who met his gaze with that annoyingly unreadable look in his visible eye.
Sasuke glanced between all four of them and said, “The Daimyo must have had doubts about us from the beginning for something like this to have spread so quickly. He probably wanted an excuse to test your loyalty.”
Naruto scowled. “Well, I’m not giving him what he wants. If it’s a choice between loyalty to him or my village, then the village wins. There are too many people here who rely on me. I won’t give up on them.”
“To be honest,” said Hinata, “I’m not sure what the Daimyo hopes to achieve by removing us as their recognized military. If he outlaws ninjas, we all become missing nin. What will that do other than upheave the entire country?”
No one quite had an answer to that. Sasuke returned to shuffling through the inventory, although his thoughts were now elsewhere. That time in Iron Country, during the Kage Summit years and years ago, had been the first and only time Sasuke had fought samurai. He would not have called them worthy adversaries, but the system there was one many of the Daimyo across the ninja continent hoped to adopt. He supposed there was something to be said about controlling one’s own military force.
Samurai, according to the lore, were said to be deeply loyal, but Sasuke didn’t see much difference between a samurai’s loyalty to his Daimyo and a ninja’s loyalty to his village, nor between a ronin and a missing nin. When those loyalties were stretched thin, neither class could be relied upon with complete faith, and it took no more than a tipping of the scales for betrayal to occur. Sasuke, of all people, knew this very well.
#
Friday’s dinner plans were again canceled without explanation. Sasuke took his meal alone, declining an invitation from Sakura to dine with her and Ino. He preferred the silence of his apartment, and he would see her the following afternoon anyway.
In the week since Naruto’s first date, he’d made no mention of it to Sasuke, despite seeing each other every day. Sasuke had assumed it had fallen through.
But Sakura knew he and Naruto took dinner together every Friday and the fact she’d extended her own dinner plans to him meant she’d been aware he would be alone, which also meant she knew where Naruto was–presumably on another date. As he’d told Sakura, Sasuke had no interest in Naruto’s private life, and Naruto knew this. Of course, knowing something wouldn’t interest Sasuke had never stopped Naruto from babbling in his ear about it anyway, but perhaps Naruto had finally developed something of an awareness for Sasuke’s tolerance levels.
So, four hours later, he wasn’t expecting to find a windblown Naruto standing outside his door.
Naruto gave him a sheepish smile, and Sasuke stepped aside to let him in without comment.
“Hey,” Naruto said, before kicking off his shoes. “You weren’t sleeping, were you?” He cast Sasuke’s bare torso and black pajamas a quick glance before looking away. His smile was tight, his gaze never quite lifting enough to catch Sasuke’s.
“Not yet,” Sasuke said. He shut the door and crossed the room to the balcony. He often took a cup of tea out into the warm evening when there wasn’t a mission to prepare for.
His apartment overlooked the crumbling remains of the only building left that was once a part of the Uchiha district: the old police department with half of a faded Uchiha crest remaining above its doors. The rest of the area had been rebuilt during the restoration into neat rows of stocky uniform houses and apartments that rose against the skyline, wires and pipes crawling across the roof tiles and down the buildings likes the veins of the city. Sasuke didn’t regret the loss of his childhood home, what with the ghosts that lingered there–in his mind if not in physical presence.
He had asked Naruto once what he planned to do with the building. Naruto had surprised him by saying he wanted to keep it, as a reminder to himself and to the council of what he would never allow to happen again, not so long as he was Hokage anyway. Sasuke would have scoffed, had it been anyone but Naruto.
He retrieved his tea from the balcony and slid the glass door shut. Naruto was slumped against his sofa, carding his fingers through his wild mess of hair. Sasuke didn’t ask, and Naruto no doubt knew from experience that he had no intention of asking. So Sasuke waited, knowing Naruto would volunteer the information whenever it suited him to do so.
Sasuke set his cup in the kitchen sink before joining Naruto in the living room.
“I was on the Hokage Mountain,” Naruto finally said.
Sasuke crossed his arms and hitched an eyebrow.
“Just needed room to think,” he said.
“I suppose the entire mountaintop would be necessary for that feat, yes.”
Naruto made a face at him, and Sasuke held back the smirk that threatened to curve his mouth.
Naruto stood and moved on silent feet toward the balcony. He brushed the curtain aside with the back of one hand and peered out the glass to the village beyond. The view hadn’t changed since the last time Naruto had stood at Sasuke’s balcony and watched the birds gather in flocks along the electric lines, and whatever Naruto expected to find this time was anyone’s guess. Naruto always seemed drawn to the windows when indoors, as if worried the village would shift around him if he looked away for too long.
“Sasuke,” he said. He stood too close to the window, his breath misting the glass and obscuring the view. “What do I do if the Daimyo refuses to lift the ban on the village?”
“Why are you asking me?”
Naruto was still, aside from his hand curling into a fist against the glass. “You’ve got an opinion, don’t you?”
It hadn’t sounded like an opinion was what Naruto was asking for. If Naruto wanted advice, he should have gone to Kakashi. Sasuke said nothing and let the silence grow thick between them.
Naruto sighed. “You always have an opinion about everything, you just don’t voice it unless asked. Dunno why. I hate having to guess at what you’re thinking even if half the time, I’m sure it’s something that’ll just piss me off.”
“Then don’t ask,” Sasuke said.
“Why not?” Naruto snapped, turning to face Sasuke, eyes cutting through him with more ease than any kunai ever had. “You’re my friend. That means something, Sasuke.”
Sasuke understood exactly what that meant, having spent the better part of the last five years–from the moment he’d returned to Konoha, if not before–coming to terms with it. “Why are you here, Naruto?”
Naruto’s lips tightened and he lowered his lashes, shielding his eyes from Sasuke. “Just had a lot on my mind. And…” He glanced up quickly before looking away again, the corner of his mouth quirking into something not quite a smile. “I wanted to see you.”
Sasuke felt something catch in his chest.
“You know,” Naruto continued, “because I skipped out on dinner again.”
Sasuke released his breath. “The mountaintop made for poor conversation?”
Naruto laughed. It sounded thin. “Yeah… So. Um…”
“Continue to resist the Daimyo.”
Naruto looked confused. “What?”
“Your question,” Sasuke said. “My opinion is that you should continue to resist the Daimyo. Not all leaders are right and not all orders should be obeyed.”
Naruto’s smile was warmer this time. He crossed the room again and sat down beside Sasuke, the sinking cushions forcing their combined weight to lean toward the middle so that their shoulders collided and held. Neither of them moved away.
“Yeah,” Naruto said. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
Sasuke gave him a flat look. “Idiot.”
“I know there’s a lot about ninjas that need to change, but I can’t imagine a world without Konoha. I don’t want to.”
Naruto cherished his bonds with voracious devotion and held onto them with equal tenacity. Sasuke couldn’t imagine Naruto giving up on anything much less his village.
“Can you?” Naruto asked.
Sasuke had once planned to wipe Konoha off the map so he didn’t think he was the right person to ask. He didn’t say this to Naruto though.
Instead, he shrugged once, and Naruto didn’t badger him further. They spoke for a brief time afterward, about simple things that didn’t carry with them the weight of their entire existence. About memories of summer afternoons by the river, the cicadas singing into the humid air and the two of them submerged, battling to see who could hold their breath the longest while Kakashi napped in the branches of a tree and Sakura kept the time. Memories of long ago missions in Wave Country when their team had been young and untested, of missions in Grass Country where they’d spent an entire night watching the fireflies flicker between stalks of grass as tall as their narrow shoulders, the tiny insects winking like starlight as they landed on the backs of their hands. Naruto had promised to catch a whole drove for Sakura once their mission was over, but their target had moved on the next day and they’d left the fireflies behind.
Then they spoke of nothing at all, and simply sat in the dim light of Sasuke’s corner lamp and the moonlight that lit his curtains and cast blocks of silver across the carpet.
Much later, Naruto surprised Sasuke by shifting against him, arms lifting in a languid stretch. He’d thought Naruto had fallen asleep. Naruto stood, his knuckles dragging down the side of Sasuke’s thigh, and moved to pull his shoes on. Sasuke offered him his sofa, but Naruto quietly refused, something like disappointment in the cast of his eyes.
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