Chapter Text
Sunlight cut through the poorly closed curtains like a blade, straight into Naruto's eyes. He groaned softly, turning his face to the side and burying his head in the pillow that smelled of sweat and regret. His head throbbed in a constant, nauseating rhythm, each pulse echoing like a drum inside his skull.
Shit. How much had he drunk last night?
He tried to remember the events of the previous night, but everything was blurred in an alcoholic haze. Disconnected fragments: laughter that was too loud, the bitter taste of cheap sake, trembling hands dialing numbers on his phone that he shouldn't have dialed. And then… nothing. A black hole until he woke up here, in his own bed, wearing the same clothes from the day before.
Naruto forced his eyes open, blinking a few times until he could focus on the light invading the room. The clock on the nightstand read 10:47 AM. Saturday. At least he hadn't missed anything important.
Or had he?
A strange feeling hung in the air, as if there was something he should be remembering, something important that insisted on escaping every time he tried to capture the memory. It was more than the hangover—it was a visceral anxiety, a knot in his stomach that wasn't just about the alcohol.
He got up slowly, testing if his legs would hold his weight. The apartment was silent, but it wasn't a comfortable silence. It was the kind of silence that comes before something bad happens, loaded with tension and unspoken possibilities.
His mouth was dry as sandpaper. He needed water, aspirin, and maybe a shower to wash away the feeling that something was fundamentally wrong with his life.
Naruto dragged his feet to the kitchen, running a hand through his blond hair, which was even messier than usual. The sink was full of dirty dishes: instant ramen bowls, glasses with drink remnants, a pan with something that was starting to develop a suspicious crust. When was the last time he had cleaned that?
He turned on the faucet and filled a glass with water, drinking it all in one go. The cold liquid soothed his throat a bit but did nothing for the weight in his chest. He opened the medicine cabinet and took two aspirin tablets, swallowing them without additional water.
It was then that his eyes landed on the table by the window.
A photo was there, leaning against the vase of dead plants he always forgot to water. It was a black and white photograph, impeccably composed: a sunset over sand dunes, with shadows creating hypnotic patterns on the landscape. It wasn't the kind of art he normally had at home, his walls were decorated mainly with movie posters and some plants that insisted on dying.
He approached and picked up the photo, examining the details. It was professional work, or at least from someone with real talent. The composition was perfect, the contrast between light and shadow created an almost ethereal atmosphere. In the lower right corner, there was a small signature in black ink: "S.U."
Why was this in his kitchen?
And then, like a lightning bolt, the memory hit him.
Seven days ago.
Rain beat against the apartment windows in a constant, hypnotic rhythm. It was a typical autumn Monday, cold and gray, the kind of day that invites you to stay home with a hot cup of tea and a good book. Naruto was doing exactly that, well, almost. He was on the couch with a bowl of instant ramen, watching a cooking show on TV and trying not to think about the fact that he was eating instant noodles while watching professional chefs prepare elaborate dishes.
The apartment was exactly as it always was on Monday afternoons, quiet, a bit messy, with that lazy atmosphere that follows a long weekend. Naruto had spent all of Sunday in meetings related to the preparations, listening to discussions about flowers, menus, and table arrangements that seemed to have a disproportionate importance to what they actually meant to him. He was grateful for the silence.
That's when someone knocked on the door.
Naruto frowned, pausing the show. He wasn't expecting anyone. Hinata had said she would be busy all week with final preparations, something about a final dress fitting and a meeting with the photographer. Sakura was traveling for work, and his other friends usually texted before showing up.
The knock came again, more insistent.
He put the bowl on the coffee table and went to the door, looking through the peephole.
His heart stopped.
There stood Sasuke Uchiha, in the hallway as if the last two years hadn't happened. His dark hair was a bit longer, falling over his eyes in a way Naruto remembered finding annoyingly attractive. He wore simple clothes, a black jacket and black jeans, but carried a professional camera bag over his shoulder, something Naruto definitely didn't remember him having before. There was something different about his posture too. Less rigid, perhaps. More… observant.
Naruto stood frozen for several seconds, his hand frozen on the doorknob. Sasuke was here. After two years without a word, without a call, without even a sign that he was still alive, he just… showed up.
Another knock, more hesitant this time.
With slightly trembling hands, Naruto unlocked the door and opened it.
They stared at each other in silence for a moment that seemed to stretch infinitely. Sasuke's dark eyes were exactly as Naruto remembered, intense, penetrating, capable of seeing through any mask he tried to wear. But there was something new there too. A different way of observing, as if he were constantly assessing light, angles, composition.
"Hi," Sasuke finally said, his voice lower and rougher than Naruto remembered.
"Hi," Naruto replied, aware of how his own voice sounded surprised and a bit breathless.
They stood there for a few more seconds, just looking at each other. Naruto noticed small details he hadn't caught through the peephole: a small new scar on Sasuke's forehead, the way he held the strap of the camera bag, how his eyes occasionally drifted to observe the light entering the hallway.
"Can I come in?" Sasuke asked, and there was an uncertainty in his voice that Naruto had never heard before.
Naruto moved away from the door without saying anything, gesturing for Sasuke to enter. The apartment suddenly seemed smaller, messier, inadequate for receiving someone he hadn't seen for so long. Sasuke entered slowly, and Naruto noticed how his eyes immediately assessed the space, not critically, but like someone used to observing environments, capturing details.
"You… changed some things," he commented, looking at the minimal and functional decor. His gaze landed on the coffee table, where the ramen bowl was still steaming.
"A bit," Naruto replied, closing and locking the door. "Sorry for the mess, I wasn't expecting…"
"No need to apologize. It's your home."
"You…" Naruto began, then stopped, not knowing exactly what to ask first. "Want to sit down? Coffee? Tea? I have…"
"Tea would be good," Sasuke gently interrupted, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.
Naruto went to the kitchen, grateful to have something to do with his hands. He turned on the kettle and grabbed two cups, trying to process the fact that Sasuke Uchiha was in his apartment, asking for tea as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"How did you know where I live?" he asked, still with his back turned.
"Kakashi. He… gave me some information when I said I was coming back."
"And that camera?" Naruto gestured to the bag Sasuke had carefully placed on the floor.
Sasuke followed his gaze and touched the bag almost unconsciously.
"I started photographing during my travels. I needed a way to… document the things I saw. And then it became more than that."
"Document?"
"At first, yes. Places, people, moments. But then I realized I was trying to capture something more. Feelings, maybe. Perspectives."
Naruto turned to look at him better.
"And why… why are you here? Now, I mean."
Sasuke was silent for so long that Naruto began to wonder if he had heard the question. When he finally answered, his hands played with the bag's strap.
"I was in Suna, finishing a photography project on desert landscapes, and… I thought about coming back. I thought about home. I thought about… people I left behind."
"Home," Naruto repeated, testing the word.
"Konoha has always been my home. Even when I tried to pretend it wasn't. Even when I… ran away from it."
The kettle began to whistle, interrupting the moment. Naruto prepared the tea in silence, giving himself time to process Sasuke's words. He placed a cup in front of Sasuke and sat across the table.
"How have you been?" Sasuke asked, and there was something genuine in the question.
"Good. Working a lot, keeping busy, but good." The words came out automatically. "And you? How was… all of it? The travel?"
"Revealing," Sasuke said, taking a sip of tea. "Difficult at times, but necessary. Seeing the world through the camera lens… changes your perspective on many things."
"What kind of things?" Naruto asked, genuinely curious.
Sasuke considered the question.
"About what really matters. About moments you want to preserve versus those you prefer to forget. About… connections you don't realize are important until they're no longer there."
"Sounds deep."
"Photography forces you to be present. You can't capture a moment if you're not really paying attention to it."
They talked for hours. Sasuke talked about places he had photographed, ancient temples in Suna where light filtered through stone windows creating geometric patterns on the floor, mountains in Kumo where he captured mist moving between peaks, small towns where he documented the daily life of people he had never seen before.
"You must have hundreds of photos," Naruto commented.
"Thousands. But only a few really… mean something."
"Can I see some?"
Sasuke hesitated, then took the bag and carefully pulled out a small leather portfolio.
"These are… the most personal ones. I don't usually show them to many people."
He opened the portfolio and placed several photographs on the table. Naruto leaned in to look at them, impressed by the technical and artistic quality. There was a photo of an old fisherman frozen in a moment of absolute concentration, another of children running in a square with their shadows creating dynamic patterns on the stone floor.
"Sasuke, these are incredible," Naruto said, and it wasn't just courtesy. "You have a real eye for this."
"Thank you," Sasuke replied, and there was something almost shy in his voice. "It was… therapeutic. Learning to see beauty in unexpected places."
When the afternoon began to darken, Sasuke mentioned he was looking for a place to stay.
"Hotels are impersonal," he said. "And I need a place where I can develop some photos, organize my portfolio."
"Stay here," Naruto said without hesitation.
Sasuke turned to him, surprised.
"Naruto, I can't…"
"I have a comfortable couch and even a small office you can use as a temporary studio. And it would… it would be good to have company."
"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your routine…"
"Sasuke," Naruto leaned forward, "you never intrude. You've always been welcome here."
And it was true. Even with all the history between them, even with the years of silence, Sasuke would always be welcome.
"Thank you," Sasuke said simply.
That night, Sasuke set up a small improvised lab in Naruto's office. He had portable development equipment, chemicals organized in small bottles, everything meticulously arranged. Naruto watched him work, fascinated by the precision of his movements.
"You don't develop digitally?" he asked.
"Some, yes. But there's something about the traditional process that can't be replicated. The total control over each step, the tangibility of the final result."
Sasuke was developing the photo Naruto had seen in the portfolio, the sunset over the dunes.
"This one… was it special?" Naruto asked, watching the image slowly appear on the paper.
Sasuke paused, his hands still in the chemicals.
"It was the first photo I took thinking of someone specific seeing it."
"Who were you thinking of?"
Sasuke didn't answer directly, but his eyes met Naruto's for a moment before returning to his work.
"Home. I was thinking of home."
When he finished developing the photo, Sasuke held it delicately, examining the result.
"Keep it," he said, handing the photo to Naruto.
"Sasuke, I can't accept this. You must want to keep it…"
"I want you to have it. It's… a gift. To thank you for letting me stay."
Naruto took the photo, aware of the symbolic weight of the gesture. Sasuke was giving him something that clearly meant a lot to him.
"Thank you. It's beautiful."
"Just like the view from your kitchen window. Maybe I can photograph it tomorrow, if you don't mind."
"Of course. This house is yours too, for as long as you want to stay."
And that's how it began. A simple invitation, a delicate gift, and the promise that there would be a tomorrow.
The sound of the phone ringing brought Naruto abruptly back to the present. He was still holding the photograph, his fingers unconsciously tracing the signature "S.U." in the corner.
The phone kept ringing. Naruto carefully placed the photo back on the table and answered, noticing the name on the screen: Hiashi Hyuuga.
His stomach dropped.
"Hello?" he answered, trying to sound awake.
"Naruto-kun," Hiashi's voice came through the line, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"No, of course not, Hiashi-san. How can I help you?"
"I wanted to confirm the times for today. The final suit fitting is scheduled for two PM, and the ceremony starts at six sharp."
Naruto looked at the clock. 11:23 AM.
The suit fitting. The ceremony at six.
The wedding.
His wedding to Hinata.
"Of course," he replied automatically, "I'll be there at two sharp."
"Excellent. And Naruto-kun… I know this is an important day. Hinata could barely sleep last night from so much happy excitement."
After hanging up, Naruto stood still, looking at the photograph on the table.
Six hours and thirty-seven minutes.
In less than seven hours, he would be married. In less than seven hours, he would make vows of eternal fidelity.
So why was all he could think about skilled hands developing photographs, dark eyes observing light and shadow, and the way Sasuke had said "I was thinking of home" that first night?
Why, on his wedding day, was the only thing that felt real those seven days that changed everything?