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2002, July 23rd, Saturday, Konohagakure.
The sun had barely risen over Konoha when Naruto bolted upright from bed, nearly tripping over tangled sheets as he scrambled toward the kitchen. Today was Sasuke's birthday — the one day he absolutely refused to screw up.
His hands shook slightly as he dug out an old cookbook Iruka-sensei gave him ("for emergencies" he'd said) from his dusty, half-empty wooden bookshelf, flipping frantically until landing on a strawberry shortcake recipe. Strawberry. Of course. Because once, months ago, during one of Team 7's first D-rank missions, when Sasuke wasn't too busy glaring daggers at him, he'd absentmindedly picked strawberries from a bush.
And of course Naruto saw. Beneath the scornful glances, the petty quarrels, and the constant challenging, the truth was that he saw Sasuke. At every moment, whenever they were together, even when they were not. He saw Sasuke. Even though Sasuke was unconscious of how much Naruto saw him; perhaps not as many, but so much.
That tiny detail lodged itself in Naruto’s brain like a kunai stuck in wood — proof that beneath the ice, there was a person. Someone, and, daring him to risk even entertain such thoughts, highly emotional someone. For empty souls carried little behind their eyes. Empty souls could not see so far beyond. A real, human boy. One who liked sweet things.
Five hours later, flour dusted every surface of his apartment (including his hair, exasperatingly so). Three failed attempts smoldered in the trash, their charred edges mocking him for yet another failure.
But the fourth? The fourth was Perfect.
Well, almost. Lopsided, sure, and the frosting looked like it survived a wind release jutsu, but it smelled so good. And he’d painstakingly arranged fresh strawberries on top in a heart shape. Details. Clearly, it was not out of his will to fashion a heart’s shape, but because strawberries themselves are inclined by nature to resemble hearts. Simple facts. And it looked cute.
Around 7 pm, walking briskly through the dimly lit streets of Konoha, Sasuke kept his shoulders squared despite the lingering soreness.
Rounding the final corner to his apartment complex, he spotted a shock of bright yellow and orange waiting by the doorstep. Naruto sat cross-legged against the door, a lopsided cake balanced precariously on his lap. At the sight of him, his face split into that infuriating grin.
"Naruto." Detached. Neutral.
Jumping to his feet so fast the cake wobbled dangerously, he caught the stoneware plate with both hands, eyes wide with panic before flashing another grin, brighter now that he was actually here. Brighter than the moon, the stars, than fire itself.
"Hey! Happy birthday, Sasuke!" His voice way too loud for the late hour, cheeks already burning hot and red. He thrust the cake toward him like an eager offering, strawberries glistening under pale light.
"I made it myself! Well, okay, kinda burned the first three, but this one’s edible! Promise!" Scratching the back of his head while flour still clung to his sleeves, his quickening heartbeat thundered louder than his own voice. Did he notice the heart? Oh god, he noticed the heart. Wait, was he actually looking or…? Hard to tell when the bastard had eyes so dark his pupils were barely distinguishable. No, screw that, he did look and he did notice. Shit.
Sasuke’s distinctive black eyes flickered down to the cake — the lopsided mess of frosting, the strawberries arranged in... was that supposed to be a freaking heart? Facial expression remained unreadable, though the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed something close to amusement. Or maybe just annoyance, hard to tell where Naruto was concerned.
Stepping closer, arms crossed loosely over his chest, he glanced again at the cake. No one had bothered making anything for him since — since Itachi left. Not that he cared. Obviously. Mostly.
"It looks terrible." A pause. Then, quieter: "...You didn't have to do this."
Naruto's grin faltered for half a second before bouncing back twice as wide, undeterred by the blunt assessment. If anything, him acknowledging said effort made his stomach flip-flop wildly.
"Heh, yeah well- I ain't exactly chef material yet! But!" Shifting the cake to one hand, he jabbed a thumb proudly at his chest. "Next year's gonna be way better! Gonna practice every damn day till then!"
A beat passed where he just stared at Sasuke, drinking in the way early evening moonlight caught in his midnight-black hair. Beautiful. So freaking beautiful it hurt sometimes.
"So uh..."Suddenly nervous again, withering in the endless wait for the small talk that never seemed to come with this infuriating boy and scuffing his sandal against the welcome mat. "Can we eat it together? Inside? Unless you got other plans which is totally cool! I mean- not that I'm assuming-"
Idiot. Idiot idiot IDIOT- why couldn't he shut up around him?!
A long silence stretched between them as Sasuke studied his flustered expression. The earnestness in his stupid blue eyes made something tighten in his chest.
With a slow exhale, he reached past him to unlock the front door, actually brushing against his arm as he did so — not quite accidental, not quite intentional either.
"...It's too late for your yelling." His tone was flat, but he held the door open just a fraction wider than necessary, glancing pointedly at the cake still clutched in Naruto's hands. "And don't drop crumbs everywhere. I cleaned today."
As he turned away, the smallest hint of color rose to his pale cheeks. Stupid Naruto and his stupid homemade cake. Of course he'd remember.
Eyes widening comically at both the brush of contact and the implied invitation, Naruto practically vibrated with restrained excitement. Carefully cradling the cake, he followed him inside like an overeager puppy granted entry to sacred ground.
"YES! I mean- yeah! No crumbs, got it!" Whispering now, tiptoeing absurdly as soon as he noticed the hardwood floors were spotless and smelling faintly of lavender cleaner. Setting the cake carefully on the kotatsu table, he fumbled pulling out utensils from his pocket — two mismatched forks wrapped clumsily in napkins.
"Dig in?" Offering a fork handle-first, fingers trembling slightly. God, the place smelled nice. Hmph. Like flowers and something subtly fancy — probably some kind of expensive shampoo. Of course even his shampoo was perfect. Showoff.
Sasuke took the offered fork with slender fingers, his movements precise and elegant as always. Sitting across from him at the kotatsu, he eyed the cake skeptically before taking a small bite. The sweetness exploded on his tongue - not entirely unpleasant. Truthfully? It was delicious. Surprisingly similar to the frosting his mother used to make for his and Itachi’s birthday cakes.
Suddenly, breathing felt too much. Same lavender cleaner, same spotless floors, same frosting, same place, same table. Except now, there was Naruto and Naruto only. Unlikely pleasant, but he'd never let it show too much.
"...It's edible." He conceded after swallowing, though the tone notably lacked its usual edge. Another pause, then quietly, "Better than expected."
Dark eyes flickered up to meet Naruto’s naive gaze briefly before looking away again. Why did he always look at him like that? Like he wanted to throttle him, but also like he hung the moon and stars himself. It was irritating. Maybe endearing.
"What?" He murmured, stabbing another piece of cake.
Beaming so hard his cheeks hurt, Naruto shoveled a massive forkful into his mouth immediately after the approval. Half-chewed, muffled words spilled out: "Told ya s'good!" Swallowing thickly, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve before catching himself and hastily using the napkin instead.
Then, suddenly serious, he set his fork down with uncharacteristic care. "Hey… You really like it? For real?" Leaning forward slightly, searching the Uchiha's face for any crack in that stoic mask. Please say yes. Please praise me. Please think I did good. Please-
Sasuke’s brows knitted together slightly at his sudden intensity. That desperate, hopeful look in his eyes was almost painful to witness. He hesitated, then took another deliberate bite, chewing slowly just to make him wait longer.
"...Yes." Finally admitting it, albeit begrudgingly. He could see the way his entire posture perked up at the single word, like some pathetic golden retriever being called a good boy.
Why did he always have to try so hard? Why did he insist on breaking through walls he'd spent years building? Annoying.
The blond's whole face lit up like the sun itself had burst inside him. Before he could stop himself, he lunged halfway across the kotatsu, stopping just inches from Sasuke's face.
"That's the best compliment you've ever given me!" Voice cracking embarrassingly high, pulse hammering in his throat. This close, he could count every eyelash framing those bottomless dark eyes. Lavender and vanilla filled his nose, drowning out even the scent of strawberry. Heart-attack. Imminent. Showoff x1000.
Retreating back just as quick, he shoved another huge bite of cake into his mouth to avoid saying something stupider. Like 'I wanna punch you.' Or 'Marry me someday?'
Instead, through stuffed cheeks: "Soooo what else d'ya wanna do for your birthday? We could train! Or eat ramen! Or-" Freezing mid-sentence as a horrifying thought struck him. "...Wait. Shit. Did Kakashi-sensei and Sakura-chan already take you out earlier? Without me?! Am I... Am I your second option?"
A sharp scoff escaped his lips as he watched the dramatic retreat. Typical Naruto – always swinging like a pendulum. Physically and mentally.
"No one 'took me out,' idiot." He stabbed the fork into the cake with unnecessary force, avoiding eye contact.
Setting his fork down neatly, he finally met his gaze, his expression softening imperceptibly. "No one remembered my birthday."
Something twisted painfully in Naruto’s chest at his admission. The realization hit him like a sucker-punch: of course no one remembered. Hell, they probably didn’t even know the date. How could they remember? Who else would? With his family gone and him pushing everyone away constantly — except him. Always except him, even when he pretended otherwise.
He saw through that.
The feeling of smallness, of being the one person the world forgets to remember.
As if every day could only become special when someone else chose to celebrate it.
As if, in solitude, any hidden magic simply unraveled and dissolved into echo.
He understood, perhaps not in the same way, not entirely, but he knew what it was to live without that quiet radiance — the subtle shimmer everyone else seemed to carry so effortlessly — and to find himself dim in comparison, waiting like a window.
"Well I did!" Blurting it out too loudly again before lowering his voice sheepishly. "An-and I always will, y'know? Every year. Till we're old n' wrinkly n' shit." Grinning crookedly, he nudged the remaining cake toward his plate. "'Cause you're impor- uh, I mean annoying! Super annoying! But the kind worth remembering stuff for!"
Internally screaming at his near slip-up. Too close. Way too close. Play it off play it off- "Betcha next year I'll make TWO cakes! Both flawless! And maybe- if you’re REAL lucky- I won't burn down my kitchen doing it!"
Sasuke’s grip tightened minutely around the fork, knuckles whitening. Old and wrinkly? Next year? As if they'd — no. He wouldn't indulge such foolish thoughts. Yet… Something warm curled treacherously in his gut at his words.
"You talk too much." Muttering, but there was no venom behind it. Taking another measured bite of cake, he chewed thoughtfully before adding, "...If you must come next year, at least learn proper baking techniques beforehand. Burning down your apartment would be troublesome for other people too, not just you."
Avoiding his gaze, he pushed the plate slightly towards him, an unspoken offer to share the rest. Stupid, sentimental gestures. Stupid Naruto making him participate in them.
Naruto's breath caught at the subtle gesture — sharing with him willingly, like he did once during the bell test, except now, there were no excuses of practicality and purpose, no masking beyond. A rare moment of vulnerability from the usually guarded boy. He accepted the offering eagerly, careful not to take too large a portion lest he change his mind.
"Y'know," He mumbled around a mouthful of cake, trying desperately to sound casual, "We should do this more often. Not just birthdays. Like... Cake nights or something. Could be our team tradition! Just us two obviously since Sakura's annoying around you and Kakashi-sensei probably eats ration bars exclusively like some weirdo-"
Cutting himself off abruptly when he realized he was rambling again. Face burning, he focused intently on scraping up the last bits of frosting from his plate, suddenly fascinated by the pattern the fork made in the remnants.
Then, softer, unable to help himself: "So… You're thirteen now, huh?" Like it was some profound revelation. His foot tapped nervously under the table. Older. Would he start wearing different clothes now? Grow even taller? Would he-
The slightest furrow formed between Sasuke’s brows as he listened to his babbling. Cake nights? Team traditions? Ridiculous notions that somehow didn't annoy him as much as they should have.
At his question about his age, he gave him a sidelong glance, noting the odd tension in his posture. Was he… Nervous? About what? Thirteen wasn't particularly significant.
"Yes." Deadpan reply, wiping his mouth delicately with a napkin.
Yet something about his reaction intrigued him. Leaning forward slightly, he tilted his head, studying his flushed face with detached curiosity. "Is there some special significance to turning thirteen that I'm unaware of?"
Choking slightly on air at the sudden proximity, Naruto's entire face went nuclear red. The way he leaned in — was he doing that on purpose?! His brain short-circuited completely, leaving only garbled nonsense in its wake.
"S-Significance?! Pffft nahhh, whaaat? Nothing special bout thirteen!" Laughing far too loudly while his traitorous eyes darted anywhere but his leanly defined chest concealed by navy fabric. Liar.
"'Cept umm... Maybe you'll start getting into shogi now? Which is dumb cause who cares bout board games- ACK!" Accidentally elbowing the cake's plate in his frantic gesturing, he scrambled to catch it with reflexes honed from training. Smooth. Real smooth.
Clutching the rescued cake like a lifeline, he peeked up at Sasuke through messy bangs, voice dropping to a mortified whisper: "...Do all people get this pretty at thirteen or is that just you?"
Instant regret. ABORT MISSION. KILL ME NOW. SOME FREAKING ROUGH SCARY VOICE LAUGHING IN HIS HEAD LIKE SOME DEMON-
Sasuke's entire body stiffened at his blurted-out words. A strange heat crawled up his neck, settling uncomfortably in his cheeks. Prettier? At thirteen? What absolute nonsense-
Yet he found himself staring at him, really looking at him for perhaps the first time today. The way his ridiculous orange clothes contrasted with his tan skin, how his bright — and beautiful — blue eyes widened in horror at his own confession, the faint dusting of flour still clinging to his cheek from baking. Those whiskered cheeks. Cute. Pathetic. Endearing. Infuriating. Beautiful.
"...Are you having a stroke?" He deadpanned. "At twelve? Because that's the only logical explanation for whatever that was."
Making a strangled noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper, Naruto buried his flaming face in his hands, knocking his forehead repeatedly against the kotatsu table. "Ughhhhh why do I SAY these things?! Just pretend I died! Right here right now! Funeral tomorrow! Flowers optional! YOUR PRESENCE’S NOT!"
Peeking through his fingers after a moment, he caught sight of that Uchiha-like composed expression — but wait. Were his cheeks... Pink? HIS EARS? Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. Embarrassment momentarily forgotten, he straightened up so fast he felt dizzy.
"Ohmygod you're BLUSHING-" Instantly slapping both hands over his mouth as if physically containing further verbal disasters. Eyes sparkling with delighted mischief above his self-imposed gag order. Take THAT, Ice Queen! Victory!
Through muffled fingers: "Mmf mmf mmmfff!"
Translation: HAHA I WIN!
Sasuke's blush deepened instantly at being called out, transforming into full-on crimson. His hand shot out lightning-fast to smack the back of his head with practiced ease.
"Shut up, moron." Hissing through gritted teeth, though the effect was somewhat ruined by how flustered he looked. Crossing his arms tightly over his small chest, he glared daggers at him.
"Stop misinterpreting things. It's hot in here. Obviously." Technically, it was. Mid July, post-rain sweltering heat. But not only that. He pointed sharply at the door. "Finish the damn cake and leave."
Except he made no move to actually kick him out, still sitting stubbornly across from him despite saying such harsh words in such a harsh tone.
"I swear to God if you say a word about this to anyone..." Trailing off ominously, nails digging into the table's wood. Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying that he could make him like this.
Naruto sheepishly rubbed the back of his head where he'd smacked him, grinning dopily despite the sting. Worth it. SO worth it. Seeing him flustered was rarer than finding a four-leaf clover in the middle of barren land.
"Yeah yeah, super hot in here~" Teasing sing-song voice, waggling eyebrows suggestively before quickly stuffing more cake in his mouth to avoid another smack. Chewing obnoxiously loud just to annoy him a little further.
"But hey," Swallowing dramatically, "Your secret's safe with me! Cross my heart!" Drawing an X over his chest with exaggerated solemnity before dissolving into giggles again. Then, softer: "...Seriously though. You're always pretty. Even when you're tryna murder me. Or being arrogant."
Immediately ducking under the table preemptively, expecting retaliation. But his voice came out sincere from beneath the kotatsu: "Best birthday present I could give ya is honesty, right?"
Total lie. Best present would be kissing him senseless — this time fucking intentionally, not that silly accident he pretended to hate even though both of them made no move to part immediately — but he'd literally combust attempting that.
Sasuke's glare intensified as he ducked under the table, fingers twitching with the urge to drag him out by his stupid blond hair. Pretty? Always? What absurd sentimentality-
Yet part of him wanted to hear more. Craved it, even. Disgusting weakness. Was it…? No. He wasn't needy. Not. A. Chance.
"Tch." Turning his face away sharply, he pretended to examine nonexistent dirt under his neatly-trimmed fingernails. "Save your empty flattery for someone gullible enough to thrive under it."
A pause. Then, barely audible: "...Though I suppose your company isn't entirely repulsive tonight." High praise coming from him. Practically a declaration of undying affection in Uchiha terms.
Straightening abruptly, Sasuke gathered the plate and forks with precise movements, refusing to meet his eyes. "Don't expect me to return the favor on your birthday though."
Lie. He'd already marked the date in his precious journal years ago.
Popping back up from under the table like a hyperactive jack-in-the-box, Naruto's grin could've powered the entire village. ‘Not entirely repulsive’? From SASUKE? That was basically a love confession!
"Awwwww, ‘Sukeee~" Dragging out his name in a singsong tease, resting his chin on folded arms atop the kotatsu. "Admit it, you loooove having me around! Bet you're already planning my birthday gift right now~" Wiggling eyebrows shamelessly.
When he shot him that trademark death-glare, he laughed brightly, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Okay okay! I'll behave! ...Mostly." Snickering as he helped gather dishes, intentionally brushing fingers against his when passing the forks. Tiny sparks shot up his arm at the contact.
"Ya know..." Voice dropping to something unexpectedly tender amidst the teasing. "Thanks for letting me stay. Means a lot." Blue eyes meeting his earnestly before darting away, suddenly shy. "Even if I am just some loudmouth loser to you."
Always that underlying insecurity, even when he tried so hard to pretend otherwise — that fear of being nothing more than an irritation to the person whose opinion mattered most.
Secretly hoping he'd deny it. Praying he'd call him more. Something in his head — that damn demon voice again — told him he would not. And that’s okay if he don't. No one does. Maybe it's true. But it won't be true forever and he'd make sure of it.
Sasuke's fingers froze mid-air when their skin brushed, that brief contact sending an unwelcome jolt through his system. Why did his touch always made him feel like drowning in... Lightning? Fire? Was it some kind of chakra disturbance?
And then his tone shifted — that vulnerable note creeping in. Loudmouth loser. Something ugly twisted in his stomach hearing Naruto describe himself that way. The gnawing doubt. The crushing weight of never measuring up.
Without thinking, his hand snapped out, gripping his wrist hard enough to bruise. Dark eyes burned into his blue ones with terrifying intensity.
"Don't." A single hissed command. "Don't speak about yourself like that." Because if HE was worthless, what did that make HIM? The thought enraged Sasuke beyond reason.
Breath hitching at his sudden ferocity, Naruto stared wide-eyed at where his slim fingers encircled his wrist. The pressure bordered on painful, but he wouldn't pull away for anything. This — this blazing protectiveness from HIM — was sweeter than any birthday cake. Any strawberry. Any victory, recognition, title.
"M' sorry," He whispered hoarsely, pulse rabbiting under his grip. Slowly, daringly, he turned his wrist to intertwine their fingers properly, calloused palm pressing against Sasuke's smoother one. "Just... gets hard sometimes. Feeling like I gotta prove I belong somewhere. Anywhere."
A shaky inhale, thumb brushing feather-light over his knuckles. Then: "But when you look at me like that — like I'm here — makes it easier, y'know?"
Too raw. Too honest. Panicking internally, he quickly tacked on: "Annnd now I'm being sappy as hell! Should prob'ly head out before I cry or something embarrassing-" Attempting to withdraw his hand with a strained chuckle.
Stay. Tell me to stay.
Sasuke's grip tightened reflexively when he tried to pull away, nails biting crescent moons into his skin. Stay. Don't go. Not yet.
"You idiot," He muttered, voice thick with something unrecognizable even to himself. Looking down at their joined hands — Naruto’s rough and warmer, Sasuke's pale and, for the first time in six years, trembling slightly.
"Do you think I waste my time on just anybody?" Intercepted by a sharp exhale through his nose. "If you were truly worthless, I wouldn't tolerate your existence near me for a second."
It was the closest he could come to saying 'you matter, you are not invisible'. The admission scraped his throat raw on the way out. Pulling his hand free abruptly, Sasuke stood and walked to the window, back rigid.
“It's late. If you insist on leaving, don't let me stop you." Brittle words belied by the way his shoulders tensed, waiting.
Please stay. Please see through me. Through my words, through my face. Read me like you always do. Like only you know how. Please-
Heart pounding so violently he feared it might rupture, Naruto stared at his silhouette framed by moonlight. Every cell in his body screamed at him to bridge the distance between them, to wrap his arms around that tense figure and never let go.
Instead, he swallowed hard and stayed seated, fingers curling into loose fists on his knees.
"Y'know what? Screw leaving." Voice way steadier than he felt. "Your couch looks mad comfy. Plus..." Grinning weakly, scratching his cheek. "Dunno if you noticed, but I kinda suck at taking hints. So unless ya throw me out bodily — which, fair warning, I'll fight dirty — guess I'm crashin' here tonight."
Standing slowly, he moved to stand beside him at the window — close enough to feel his body heat, but not touching. Studying his profile with aching tenderness.
"Birthday rule: Host can't kick guests out til sunrise. Made it up just now." Shoulder bumping his lightly. "...Happy Birthday, Sasuke."
I see you. All of you. And I'm staying.
The tension coiled inside Sasuke snapped like a taut wire. Before he could register his own actions, he whirled around and grabbed fistfuls of Naruto's hideous orange jacket, dragging him up to eye level with surprising strength.
"This isn't a hint" He growled, breath ghosting over his lips — then crushed his mouth against his in a kiss that tasted like desperation and birthday frosting.
Clumsy. Furious. Perfect.
One hand released his collar to tangle roughly in his blond hair, keeping him locked in place as if he might vanish otherwise. Layers of suppressed longing poured into the press of lips — the way his teeth accidentally grazed his chapped bottom lip, the shudder that ran through Sasuke's slight frame when he gasped against him.
Breaking apart just far enough to glare directly into his dazed blue eyes, cheeks flushed scarlet:
"There. Now shut up forever.
Usuratonkatchi."
I love you. I hate you. Never leave me. Even when I inevitably lose me, myself. Especially so.