He walked down the hallway. The wood floors, polished to gleaming, whispered under his bare feet. A hundred windows let in silver moonbeams and starlight, flooding the walls, turning stone statues to white marble.
The fifth floor, he thought. Just before the greenhouse.
Sasuke knew instinctively where to go. He could feel everything in those dreams: the dreamer's presence like a siren call, the tug at his navel to follow their lead. If he wanted to leave, or change the vision, he had to find them.
He always found who he was looking for.
Up, up. He heard no footsteps, no trace of midnight wanderings. Sasuke held his breath and stepped out onto the highest platform the school had to offer.
The greenhouse was a sanctuary. Rows of ferns and flowers stretched towards the tapered ceiling, green fronds and vines tangling and slithering over every surface. The air was always warm there, like a gentle blanket, and faintly sweet.
But not all sanctuaries can be preserved.
There. Small and delicately boned. Uncombed hair; unmarked face. The book in his lap had fallen to an unmarked page as he slept.
Sasuke approached. The little boy looked so comfortable, nestled beneath a thick hibiscus tree. A single bloom perched behind one ear—remnant of an afternoon that would be his last.
The beginning of the end.
Sasuke extended a hand. His fingers stretched like ghostly claws to scrape the boy's cheek before passing through. A shudder rippled through him; his brow scrunched, soft mouth puckering in distaste. The little boy's eyelashes fluttered like moths before flying apart altogether.
Sasuke stared up into the older face of himself.
And then he began to scream.
Sasuke stared at his reflection. He looked almost as bad as he felt—which was to say, like absolute horseshit.
Dark eye circles like he hadn't slept. Rumpled hair like he hadn't gelled it. Twice.
He let out a low breath.
"Sasuke," Itachi called through the bathroom door. "You're going to be late again."
He knew that. Of course he knew that. But if Itachi thought he was just going to waltz out with evidence all over him, he had a new one coming. Sasuke made some headass decisions sometimes, sure, but he wasn't stupid.
"I'll be out in a second," he called back. "Just go on ahead." He ran his toothbrush under the faucet, willing the tell-tale rasp in his voice away.
A moment of silence. "Another rough night?"
Sasuke scowled at his reflection. He bent, spitting loudly into the sink, and turned on the faucet as high as it would go. With any luck Itachi would take the hint and retreat; he had his own stellar attendance to cater to.
Sasuke went through the motions: fixing his hair, swishing his mouthwash, straightening his tie. He counted to fifty, and then a hundred. He straightened his tie again for extra measure.
The hallway was thankfully empty when he finally emerged. His brother's bedroom door was open—a sign that he'd left, if things were going right.
Sasuke dipped into his own room for his satchel. The worn leather was a comfort over his shoulder, a weight he could rely on. He straightened his shirt the best he could in his mirror's reflection, toed into his sneakers, and made for the kitchen.
A mug sat on the table; an egg bake sandwich nestled beside it, steaming in a paper towel. No Itachi was in sight.
Sasuke's shoulders relaxed. Things really were going right.
Maybe today will be livable after all, he thought, cramming the sandwich in his mouth. He slipped the travel mug into his bag and locked the front door behind him. Maybe..
He should have known better. Some things really were too good to be true.
The amphitheatre was jam-packed by the time he arrived. Sasuke shoved his way past a gaggle of girls up the staircase, searching through the rows for an open spot. The room was a sea of white shirts and black pants, monochrome speckled with red, yellow, and green neckties. His own—a rich, navy blue—suddenly felt as if it were strangling him.
There. A lone chair in the dead-middle of the ninth row. Sasuke bumped knees and stepped on toes in his haste to sit. Still, try as he might, he couldn't escape the hushed whispers and ogling eyes of his classmates.
"Look who's back. I thought.."
"His brother works for the school now, right?"
"...hope I don't get paired with.."
"Mindfreak."
Sasuke tucked his bag under his chair. He didn't look at anyone; he didn't talk to anyone. All he could do was wait for the verdict and leave as fast as possible.
If there's a god out there, he thought irritably, you better come through for me this once.
Several excruciating minutes passed before the lights began to dim. A single spotlight flared over the podium at the floor. Around him, babbles of conversation softened and died away.
The moment they'd waited all summer for.
Chancellor Sarutobi was a stoop of a man. When he walked up to the podium, he had to lower the microphone nearly four inches. His bald head reflected light like a mirror. Sasuke wondered distantly if anyone in the front row was blinded.
"Students," he rumbled out. "Welcome back to another year at Konohagakure. I'm sure your summers were well spent, being young and full of promise as you are."
The Chancellor shifted, pulling a sheaf of paper out of his robes. Sasuke's eyes narrowed.
"The past two years have been laden with trials both social and academic," he went on. "Time and time again, your professors have taught you, tested you, trained you. Your hours have been heavy with study, I know—perhaps too much, if I believe some of your complaints." A rumble of laughter. "But now, the first fruits of your labor shall be beared."
He lifted the papers for all of them to see. Nobody breathed.
"As you all know," the Chancellor croaked, "the academy's rules state that each student be placed into three-man teams starting their third year. These teams shall be upheld for the remainder of your education as a preemptive triad, a circle to rely on in the coming years. Personal skill may be powerful, but partnership—particularly at the level of skill you all possess—is even more critical."
He cleared his throat, coughing into the microphone. Sasuke didn't dare move.
"I will now speak the names of the upcoming triads."
Chancellor Sarutobi looked out over them all. He paused, wetting chapped lips, and peered down at the roster.
"Team One: Nakamura, Hana.."
Sasuke sat on the edge of his seat. His eyes burned; his throat clicked. He didn't dare think a single thought except please, please, please..
He'd thought long and hard over the summer. There weren't many students in his year that he could stand being around, much less tolerate for the next two years. There was Nara, of the Intelligence sector. There was Hyuuga, of Intuition.
Two people out of thousands. Sasuke didn't fool himself with favoring the odds.
They were hardly through when it happened.
"Team Seven," the Chancellor croaked. "Haruno, Sakura. Uchiha, Sasuke.."
Sasuke sucked in a sharp breath.
"..Uzumaki, Naruto."
All the air whooshed out of his lungs.
You're kidding. You're kidding. That's not—
Of all the people. Thousands in their class, and he was stuck with—
Sasuke stood. He ignored the murmurings around him, their prying eyes. He couldn't stand to be in this room any longer. He was out of here.
The room was even harder to navigate in the dark. Nobody made it easy for him; he could feel knees, elbows, stares jabbing into him. Always watching, waiting for him to fuck up.
Those Uchihas, they would say. A whole family of freaks.
Morning sun stung his eyes when he stepped outside. Sasuke narrowed his vision to the path directly in front of his shoes and made for home as fast as he could.
It hadn't always been this way.
There had been a time before , or so Itachi told him. A time when they all lived in one house; a time when Father would come home from work and Mother would make dinner while Itachi bottle-fed Sasuke on the couch. There hadn't been anything to fear, then.
An Uchiha's pride is their power, Father had said, and powerful they had been.
But sometimes power isn't enough.
Nobody greeted Sasuke when he came home. He dropped his keys on the counter and moved to stare blankly at the fridge's contents. Nothing looked appetizing.
Uzumaki Naruto.
Images of blond hair and big, blue eyes rose unbidden. Sasuke's mouth thinned into a line.
Everyone knew Naruto. He was the greatest spectacle to hit Konohagakure since Sasuke himself, but for all the wrong reasons. He was supposedly sloppy. Inconsistent. His power leaked like a dripping faucet, splattering hallways in multicolor and blinding overhead birds.
He was infamous for his failures and famous for his charm. His posse nearly encompassed the student body. Half the professors shook their head at his scores; the others smiled at his jokes. He was unfathomably popular and undoubtedly annoying.
And now I'm stuck with him for two years.
Sasuke flopped back onto his bed. His academy flag stretched above him on the ceiling. He eyed it wearily, tracing the lines between the four colored points and the tree in the center.
Invention. Intuition. Intelligence. Intercommunication.
It wasn't hard to guess what Naruto's sector; his powers gave him away even without the red tie. Invention, Sasuke thought bitterly. The sector of show-offs and loud-mouths. How fitting.
Sasuke, with his dream manipulation, specialized in Intercommunication. It had been a point of pride, once, to share the same sector as Itachi. They matched in uniform, two blips of blue in a sea of red, yellow, and green.
But then Itachi had graduated and left Sasuke all alone. There weren't any Intercom students in his year. He was the odd man out, the one to be avoided.
The mindfreak.
Sasuke rolled over onto his side. He hadn't been awake for long, but the morning's events suddenly were too exhausting to bear. He closed his eyes and immediately fell into an uneasy, dreamless sleep.
Morning was long gone when Sasuke awoke. He sat up, grimacing at the way his uniform stuck to his skin, and slid out of bed. Disaster or no, Itachi would have his head for skipping out on chores.
He went through the motions. Their apartment wasn't much—a two-bedroom, one-bathroom carpeted affair—but it was all he'd ever known. Signs of long inhabitance were everywhere: Sasuke's height chart in the kitchen, marked with ink; their old fridge, smothered in drawings and report cards; the potted plants out on the balcony, viny tendrils blanketing the wall.
Sasuke squinted out over the balcony. The academy-sanctioned neighborhood sat amidst a rippling sea of wild grass and perennials, a cluster of grey buildings on a massive slope. There were few trees; wild deer, when they chose to, grazed openly. The heat would keep them beyond for now, though.
Beyond. His eyes trailed up the slope to its peak. Beyond, in Konohagakure.
The academy was aptly named. While no trees grew beneath, an evergreen forest sprung up at the hilltop, crowning the slope in thick, dark trees. Sasuke imagined the way the forest extended backwards, blanketing hundreds of miles in dense foliage. It was there, buried among skyscraper trees and clover swathes, that Konohagakure lie.
His eyes fell to the single path from the treeline. Someone was making their way towards the neighborhood, clad in worker uniform and blue tie.
Itachi.
Minutes stretched before the front door opened. The afternoon heat flushed Itachi's cheeks, pressing clothes to skin as Sasuke's had. Someone really needed to argue for uniform shorts or something.
"Sasuke," he greeted. "Back so soon?"
Sasuke turned away to nudge his stir fry.
Itachi paused. Sasuke heard him lower his bag onto the counter, moving to stand beside him. "Sasuke? What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He exhaled harshly. "Just—"
He clenched the spatula, stabbing at a piece of broccoli. Itachi waited.
"Is it about your team?" he finally asked, when Sasuke had no answer.
The stove clicked off. Sasuke stared into the pan.
"..Yes."
Itachi's forehead creased. "Take a seat," he suggested. "I'll serve you up."
The first mouthful was impossible to swallow. Sasuke stabbed furiously at his chicken, willing himself to relax, but he couldn't. How was he going to stand this?
Itachi's eyes stayed glued to him even as he ate. "Do I need to speak with the Chancellor?"
"Yes. No." Sasuke frowned, forcing down a mouthful at last. "I don't want you interfering. But—"
"But what?"
"It's my teammates." He glared at his food. "I'm paired with an idiot."
"So you already know them personally?"
"No," Sasuke bit out, "and I never want to."
Itachi's eyebrows rose. "Well, who is it?"
Sasuke scraped his fork tines along the bowl's edge and chewed his lip.
"Sasuke?"
"It's"—he inhaled—" Uzumaki."
Itachi stilled. Sasuke glared at his food, willing it to set fire.
"He's an idiot," he repeated bitterly. "I have to spend the next two years of my life trying to scrape together a team with that, that clown. I bet he doesn't even know what the four sectors are! And the way he walks around leaking colors like he's pissed himself—Itachi, I don't have to know him personally. I already know he's a dumbass!"
Sasuke dropped his fork with a clatter. He sucked in a rattling breath, slowing his heart, and looked up.
"What?" he snapped. "What's that look for?"
"Nothing." Itachi's face smoothed out. "That's a shame. Perhaps he's gotten better over the summer?"
Sasuke gave him a look that would peel paint.
"Right," Itachi said. "Never mind." He cleared his throat. "Well, who else is on your team?"
Sasuke exhaled sharply. The moment he'd heard Naruto the rest of his brain had flown out the window. Who was on his team? Were they any good?
Anyone's better than that idiot . Still, admitting he had no idea to Itachi made him feel stupid.
"You don't know?" Itachi guessed. "Weren't you supposed to meet with them after the ceremony?" He blinked. "You came home immediately. You didn't even stay until the end."
"What's there to stay for?" Sasuke sniffed. "The less time I spend with Uzumaki the better."
"That's going to be impossible soon. You're going to live together, aren't you?"
Sasuke froze. "What?"
"The dorm assignments," Itachi said slowly. "They change with team assignments—or did you leave before they announced that, too?"
Sasuke's stomach plummeted. He stared at the clock over the oven without really seeing it.
This is it, he thought miserably. The beginning of the end.
The following week was a vortex of anxiety. Sasuke tossed and turned for hours, barely sleeping before waking again. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Uzumaki fucking up somehow.
Ruining their triad exams. Ruining his peaceful dorm life. Ruining Sasuke's evening runs through campus.
I won't graduate with him stuck to me, Sasuke feared. He'll stop me from leaving, and then what?
Every meal was overshadowed by worry. Could he get by without relying on his team? Had anyone ever petitioned to just go solo before? Was it even allowed?
Bit by bit, his personal belongings were boxed away. Down went his academy flag; away went his desk supplies. He was scheduled to move into K-32 next Saturday—all too soon.
Team assignments were posted online on Thursday. Sasuke sat with his laptop and stared at the roster for hours, willing the letters to change.
Haruno, Sakura. Uchiha, Sasuke.
Uzumaki, Naruto.
Their school emails were listed too—an effort to preemptively connect teammates. Sasuke pretended the links didn't exist. He pretended the following email from sharuno@konoha didn't exist either.
Dear Sasuke, the preview line said. I was thinking we could—
No. He deleted it immediately. Absolutely not.
Most things in life eventually went away if Sasuke ignored them for long enough. The girls who followed him. The crane fly trapped in the bathroom. The flu.
But every morning Sasuke woke up and had to face reality over and over. Uzumaki was not going away.
This is for real, he thought, lugging his things up the hill that Saturday. The open grasslands made his trek miserable, sweat soaking his shirt within minutes. What he wouldn't give to be telekinetic at that moment.
Itachi, at least, seemed no worse for wear. Where Sasuke spent the whole week wishing for death, Itachi tried to encourage him. He took on the optimist role, offering info in a vain attempt to improve his brother's mood.
Haruno has adequate written exam scores.
Her skill apparently packs quite the punch.
Uzumaki only got two black marks on his record last year?
None of them worked.
"Look at it this way," Itachi suggested. Sasuke hated that he wasn't even sweating. "You only have to be with him during half your class hours, and when you go to sleep. But that's really only sixty percent of your day."
"Not helpful, Itachi," Sasuke grit out.
"Sorry."
Stepping under the trees was sweet relief; breeze or not, the air had to be at least fifteen degrees cooler. Sasuke felt the sweat on his back instantly chill. He paused, taking a deep breath of rich, earthy air.
The K-30 apartments lie northwest on campus, circumventing Konohagakure's main roads. Their thoroughfare was paved with cobblestone and soil, the trees casting sunbeams in soft, green hues. They didn't pass any other people, but there was plenty of birdsong.
It could be worse, Sasuke supposed.
K-32 sat in the upper right corner of a huge, brown-shingled building. There were plant boxes hanging out in front and two staircases on either side leading to the second floor. The trees overhead barely cleared the perimeter, scattering fallen needles beyond the property. As they approached, Sasuke caught the clear starting bars of pop radio. All the sliding glass doors on the bottom floor were open.
A girl emerged—blonde, with bangs covering one eye. Sasuke wondered, briefly, if she had trouble seeing.
"Oh." Her gaze skated over him and his brother. "Upstairs?"
"32," Itachi replied pleasantly. "Are you Sasuke's new neighbor?"
"Yeah." She paused, tucking her hair behind one ear. "Ino Yamanaka."
"Itachi, Sasuke's older brother."
Ino's lips pressed thin. "I know," she said.
Right. Sasuke pushed past her for the stairs and left Itachi to say goodbye.
K-32 was larger than his old dorms. For one, the apartment had a kitchen. There were supposedly two communal bathrooms in the floor plan, one with a whole tub. The living room was already partially furnished with a couch, armchairs, and a table. They had two fridges.
"Two," Itachi remarked. "That's.. unorthodox."
Sasuke pushed onward. Muffled laughter echoed from a bedroom down the hall, but he didn't bother looking. The room he needed was directly in front of him—and already occupied with one tall, gleaming blond.
Literally. He was gleaming.
Itachi set down his armful of boxes with a thump . "Uzumaki?"
Naruto yelped. Sasuke squeezed his eyes shut as a kaleidoscopic flare exploded into the room. Prisms flung over the walls, the ceiling, the furniture—hundreds of thousands of lights, each bright enough to blind.
"Crap!" The light dimmed, leaving spots in Sasuke's vision. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you come in!"
How can you see anything? Sasuke thought irritably.
"It's fine," Itachi said. "You're Sasuke's new roommate, yes?"
Naruto flashed a smile bright enough to drop pigeons. "Yeah." He extended his hand. "That's me. I guess we'll get to know each other plenty, heh."
"Something like that," Sasuke muttered.
Naruto's eyes slid from Itachi to him. Sasuke didn't miss the way they widened slightly, sweeping over him in a quick one-two before sticking to his face.
"Sasuke," he breathed.
"Naruto."
The moment stretched.
"I'm going back downstairs to get the rest of your things," Itachi said. "Be right back."
Sasuke turned away. His side of the room was furnished with the bare minimum: a bed pallet, a standard desk and chair, a set of drawers. Little pin holes speckled the walls—remnants of someone with a penchant for decoration. Sasuke supposed he could hide most of them with his flag.
Naruto went back to shuffling around behind him. Sasuke staunchly ignored how uncomfortable the air suddenly was, thick enough to smother. Naruto could fidget all he wanted; Sasuke was here to excel , nothing less and nothing more.
The seconds ticked away.
I can do this , Sasuke thought. If he can just keep his mouth shut—
"So what's your power?"
Sasuke's hands stilled over the desk. "..What?"
"Your power?" Naruto repeated hesitantly. More shuffling. "You're uh, a blue-tie right? So—"
Heat rose like vomit from Sasuke's throat. "Is this some kind of joke?" he choked.
"Huh?"
"I said" —Sasuke spun around— "Are you fucking joking?"
Naruto's eyes stretched even wider. His mouth flapped open for a moment, hands rising as if Sasuke were a wild animal. Sasuke instantly hated the motion.
"No, I—"
"Because it wasn't funny," he went on. He felt sick. Who was Naruto playing him for? As if Naruto, jewel of Konohagakure, didn't know about Sasuke. About the endless rumors and staring, the unending shoves and notes under his door and—
"Sasuke, there's one more box outside. Could you get it for me?"
Naruto's shoulders jerked; his hands fell to his sides, gripping his jeans. Sasuke ripped his eyes away, sucking air frantically through his lungs. He would not snap here. He refused.
"Whatever," he snapped, and stormed out of the room.
Whoever had made the housing assignments had a sick sense of humor. It wasn't enough that Sasuke was rooming with Uzumaki—he'd also been placed with some of the slouchiest, idiotic clowns Konohagakure had to offer.
The second refrigerator wasn't school-issued, as Sasuke first suspected; his new housemate, Choji Akimichi, had lugged the damn thing in. Choji was always in the kitchen making dirty dishes, and with the way everyone flocked to pick scraps, the living room was always full. This wouldn't normally be a problem—everyone was entitled to eat—but his housemates were noisier than Itachi's old neighbors.
There was Kiba Inuzuka—Uzumaki's uglier, equally-idiotic half, apparently. But where Uzumaki could keep his mouth shut, Kiba had no qualms. He dogged Sasuke about everything from his powers to his eating habits, baring his teeth when Sasuke snapped back.
With the way he lorded himself over everyone, Neji Hyuuga was turning out to be scarcely better. The man was self-obsessed. Sasuke had already caught him gazing into his reflection in their cutlery; he shuddered to think about why Neji spent so long in the bathroom. His narcissism rankled like nothing else.
The silver lining—if one could call him that—was Shikamaru Nara. He rarely raised his voice, and if he had shit to say about Sasuke, he kept it out of earshot. Sasuke supposed he could live with him.
Their first weekend together was a tenuous affair. Sasuke did his best to avoid the other boys at all times, taking long walks through campus or reading under the trees behind their building. The summer air was uncomfortable even beneath the pines, thick with the heady scent of crushed needles. Sasuke found himself burning despite his best efforts. He'd have to buy better sunscreen when the campus pharmacy opened.
Naruto, amazingly, kept to himself. After their first encounter, he hadn't dared to speak a word in their room. He didn't even look at Sasuke if he could help it. The silence was a relief compared to their boisterous apartment, but Sasuke knew it wouldn't last. Once classes started, he would have to talk to Naruto, and their uneasy peace was sure to fall apart. The blond already looked ready to explode.
But Sasuke wasn't going to give in. Naruto could act as innocent as he liked, but there wasn't a soul on campus who didn't know about Sasuke. Who didn't know what a freak he was. Reprehensible, they called him. Fucking freak.
Idiot. Sasuke watched him trip on a desk leg, scattering papers everywhere. This team is set up for disaster.
"Maybe he's improved," Itachi had suggested after they'd finished moving. "He seems personable to me."
Sasuke scoffed. "Being personable isn't going to pass the triad exams. He can hardly hold himself together. He's like a dog, ready to piss all over the floor."
And piss Naruto had. He oozed light like a walking sun, scattering prisms when he smiled. Every burst of laughter made his skin flicker. It was like rooming with a star.
It could always be worse, Sasuke kept reminding himself, but he wasn't sure how.
Monday morning started the worst way possible: with screaming.
Lots of it.
Sasuke's eyes snapped open. He shot to his feet immediately, shaking all drowsiness away. Naruto attempted the same maneuver and fell over his bedside, hopelessly tangled in his sheets.
"Wha?" The blond slurred. "Wha's goin' on?"
Sasuke slammed open the bedroom door. The other two bedrooms were already open. None of their housemates were in sight, but when he walked out into the living room, Sasuke could see them outside. Their necks were craned over the walkway, staring down where the screaming originated.
Sasuke took a deep breath and stepped out.
"Awaken, brethren! A new day is upon us!" The screaming was even louder outside—bloodcurdling, even. "Youth should not be wasted within the confines of luxury!"
"Is this some sort of joke?" he hissed, plugging his ears.
Neji gave him a flat look. "Close," he said. "It's our new RA."
Our new RA was a sight for sore eyes. Between the bright-green spandex biking suit, the orange leg warmers, and the horrific bowl cut, Sasuke was beginning to wonder if everyone around here suffered some sort of brain damage. Was there something in the air?
"Greetings!" Ugly RA hollered. "Residents of K-30 , the morning has long greeted us! Come outside and relish the fresh air!"
"I'd rather die," Shikamaru muttered under his breath. Sasuke could hear similar groaning from the floor below—the girls' apartment, if he remembered correctly.
"As your RA," Ugly continued, "I must make my intentions clear! This morning meeting is mandatory and will be logged in your gradebook!"
Shikamaru's mouth twisted. He gave Sasuke a sideways glance. "You better wake up blondie."
Ten minutes later Sasuke stood in a circle of pajama-clad students. Some had the foresight to slag on clothes; others, like Naruto, weren't even sporting shirts. Sasuke could already see goosebumps rising on his arms.
Idiot. He tore his gaze away.
Ugly RA introduced himself as Rock Lee. He was, to quote, " absolutely ecstatic to have them under his wing." Sasuke took one look at Lee's sweaty armpits and made a mental note to never be anywhere near his wingspan. Ever.
"We'll go around the circle," Rock Lee chirped. "Everyone will introduce themselves—name and station, if you please! It's for the community record." He waved his clipboard.
The girl on his immediate left had to duck. "Hinata!" she squeaked. "Intuition sector!"
Rock Lee beamed. "And your power?"
Hinata's eyes flit over everyone, her face reddening under the attention. "U-um.. Danger intuition?"
"How fitting," Sasuke muttered. Neji barked a laugh.
Around the circle they went. Sasuke couldn't have cared less about the girls' names—they were fellow residents, nothing more—but he did take note of their powers. They had two Inventors: a plant manipulator and a telekinetic. There was a single Intel telepath. Hinata was the only Intuit.
Then they moved onto the boys' apartment.
Sasuke tuned out his housemates. He already knew he was the sole Intercom, an ugly add-on to an otherwise balanced house. The only other notable thing about their apartment was the volume of Intels—three—in comparison to a single Intuit.
And a single Inventor. Naruto.
"I'm a photokinetic," the blond informed everyone. He smiled, radiating beams, and Sasuke felt the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.
"We're nearly done!" Rock Lee finally announced. "Only one left on my roster—you, in the blue sweatpants! What is your name?"
All eyes flew to him. Sasuke could feel the sudden discomfort, the palpable tension hovering above. He grit his teeth and mentally counted to five. He was used to this.
This was his normal.
"Sasuke," he forced out. "Sasuke Uchiha."
Rock Lee hummed and scratched something down. "Power?"
The others shifted uneasily. Sasuke's eyes narrowed.
"Dream manipulation."
Sasuke saw the moment Rock Lee understood— the sudden stiffness, the recognition. His bushy brows rose until they disappeared behind his god-awful haircut.
"Oh," he said. "How.. unusual."
Sasuke bit his tongue.
Rock Lee squirmed for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. "Well," he finally managed, "if that's, ah, everyone.. Then I suppose you're free to mingle?"
The circle dissolved. Sasuke stepped back, watching his housemates group up. Naruto immediately gravitated towards a young woman with pink hair. His hand was already outstretched, his smile glimmering like sun-lit glass.
Sasuke turned and went back upstairs.
Later, after he'd already crawled back into bed with a book, Naruto returned. Sasuke tried to ignore how he paused in the doorway. He could feel the blond's eyes on him from behind his novel.
"For the record," Naruto finally said, "I didn't know you were an Intercom."
Sasuke flipped a page noisily.
Naruto moved further into the room. Sasuke heard bed springs creak, then the shuffle of moving sheets. The room lapsed back into silence.
He read two more pages before Naruto spoke again.
"I'm not afraid of you."
Sasuke stilled. He couldn't see Naruto—their dressers were back-to-back to give a semblance of privacy—but he could hear him roll over.
"Really," Naruto insisted softly. "I'm not."
Bitterness bubbled in Sasuke's stomach. His mouth twisted, fingers helplessly curling into the pages. The audacity of this guy—
"You should be," he spat.
"Maybe," Naruto agreed. Sasuke hated the way he sounded so calm, almost sad, like he pitied Sasuke. It was the only thing worse than being feared. Sasuke wanted to stand up and throw something at him.
But he wouldn't. He wouldn't give Naruto the satisfaction.
"I'm sorry," Naruto said. "I wish.."
Sasuke waited for him to finish. His throat felt impossibly tight; his eyes burned for no reason. He hated that he'd ignored Naruto all weekend only for their first conversation to be like this .
He waited, but Naruto never completed the thought.
Somehow that made him feel even worse.
School officially started on Wednesday. Tradition stated that teams met prior—to establish teamwork, or something like that. The only thing Sasuke wanted to establish with Naruto were boundaries. Ones where he didn't have to hear him scratching his ass, or know what he sounded like singing in the shower.
But that was a whole extra deal. There was still the matter of the mystery third member, this Haruno. Sasuke knew she had to be one of the girls in the apartment below, but he had no clue which one, and he didn't dare ask Naruto.
He found out the hard way Monday evening.
"Sasuke," Naruto called. "You'd better get out here."
He didn't look up from his book. "Sure."
"No, like.." Naruto's head popped in. His blue eyes were enormous, bottom lip caught between teeth. "Right now? Please?"
Sasuke raised an eyebrow. He set his book down.
A young woman sat in their living room—the girl Naruto had talked to earlier, in all her pink-haired glory. She leaned against their coffee table with her arms crossed, a stormy look on her face. Sasuke could already feel what was coming.
"Let me guess," he drawled. "You're Haruno?"
"And you haven't been responding to my emails."
Sasuke forgot he'd set her address to spam. "They were clogging my inbox."
"They were important." Her eyes narrowed. "And here I thought you were going to take this seriously. Isn't that your reputation? Nasty-neat?"
"It doesn't apply to chumps."
Haruno huffed. "It's going to have to. Like it or not, we're both stuck with Uzumaki."
"Hey!" Naruto yelped. "Why am I suddenly the problem?"
"I didn't want this any more than you," she pushed on. "We both know what's at stake. But we have to deal with it, okay? I want to graduate just as much as you."
Sasuke's nose wrinkled. "I have higher aspirations."
"Don't we all."
Naruto looked between them. "So.. does this mean we're going to be a team now?"
Over my dead body, Sasuke wanted to say. But he knew Haruno was right.
God, he hated it, but she was.
"Schedules," he said. "We get them all tonight, don't we? Come to me when you get them."
"To compare classes?" Naruto asked.
"To see when we share free time," Sakura said. She blew out a breath. "Of course, I almost forgot. We still have to find a sponsor."
Sasuke hadn't forgotten. Sponsorships were only the second most annoying Academy tradition behind teaming up with other people. They had to find a teacher too—one that could connect them to potential hirers and vouch for their strengths.
Sakura and him shared a look. He knew what she was thinking—he could see it in her eyes.
How are we supposed to find a sponsor with someone like Naruto?
"What?" Naruto frowned. "What's that look for?"
We need a plan."
Sasuke peered over his computer screen. Sakura sat across the kitchen table, knees pulled up to prop her freshly painted fingernails. She frowned thoughtfully and tapped a few keys.
"We have to market ourselves," she explained. "Everyone already knows about Naruto's.. shortcomings. But there has to be something we all share, right? Something we excel at?"
Sasuke's looked to Naruto, who was using his computer's reflection to pick his teeth. "Patience?" he drawled.
She rolled her eyes. "I was thinking something tactical."
"It depends on our personal assets. What are your high marks in?"
Sakura examined a nail. "Cooperative reaction and physical aid."
"So you're a healer."
"I'm multifaceted."
Sasuke sat back. "I'll believe it when I see it."
She visibly bristled. "What's that supposed to mean? Worried I won't be able to keep up?"
Sasuke had good reasons to be wary. It wasn't every day you paired with an Intercom; some people went their whole careers without ever teaming with one. As a result, typical strategy measures focused on the Inventor-Intel-Intuit trifecta.
Sakura could be as capable as she liked, but without Intercom training she was little more than an extra body.
"You've never worked with an Intercom before," he told her. "I have reasons to be skeptical."
"You could at least give me a shot before shitting on me."
"Uh, guys?" Naruto leaned in. "I'm here too."
Sasuke didn't even look at him. "How could we forget."
"Right. Well. I figured I should let you know before you kill each other."
Sasuke's eyes narrowed. That definitely drew his ire. "I'll kill you sooner," he informed the blond, "if only because you talk in your sleep."
"I do?"
Sasuke sighed loudly, leaning in. "You want my approval so badly?" Sakura's eyes narrowed. "Then prove it to me. Show me what you can do."
"I would have sooner," she said, "but someone was deleting my emails."
"I thought we were over this."
"No, you're over it. I'm still mad."
"Right. Whatever."
"Sooo.." Naruto looked between them. "Does this mean we're going outside?"
"Unless you have a better idea." Sasuke snapped his laptop shut and stood. "Meet me behind the building in fifteen."
Sasuke believed in a pyramid of rational thinking. Most of his decisions dwelled somewhere on the bottom: constant, reliable, a solid ground to build his life upon. He'd built his education and lifestyle on good choices.
This scenario was not one of them.
He squinted. "What the fuck is on your head?"
Naruto grinned sheepishly. "It's a headband. Pretty cool, right?" He adjusted the orange abomination, snapping it sharply against his skin.
"You look like you're filming for a 1980's aerobics video."
"In a good way?"
Sasuke gave him a dry look.
"You better not be all talk," Sakura said, stretching. "Otherwise I'm never going to let you live it down. I hope you're aware of that."
"I'm aware of a lot of things," Sasuke replied. Like how dumb this decision was.
So maybe Itachi was right sometimes. Sasuke was good about making the right choice— usually— but when his blood was running hot, he sometimes got a little ahead of himself.
There are better ways to do this, he reflected as he warmed up. Ways that didn't involve potentially maiming each other. But if there was one thing Sasuke never did, it was go back on his word. Shit choices be damned.
Sakura straightened. "What's the plan?"
"Old-fashioned," he said shortly. "Hand-to-hand combat."
"What, against each other? Is that even balanced?"
"Worried you're going to look bad?"
Sakura's eyes narrowed. "I'm worried I'll break your arm."
"Worse things have happened this week," Sasuke deadpanned. "I'll get over it."
Naruto practically bounced up and down. "So who goes first?" he asked. "Can I?"
"We'll draw straws," Sasuke decided, picking up some twigs.
The lots came up in Naruto's favor: him against Sasuke, then Sakura against whoever won. They'd take a break in between matches.
K-30 butted up against a pine-ringed clearing full of smooth dirt and clover. Sakura sat on the old bench at it's edge, ankle knocking a coffee can of cigarette butts. Sasuke moved to the center and faced Naruto.
"First pinned loses," Naruto suggested. He smiled crooked, fingers curling and uncurling experimentally. Sasuke felt something respond within him: the thrill for a fight, an untamable eagerness to move .
Sasuke smirked. He knew his body well. His limits were carefully placed and rarely reached—that is, unless he was fighting Itachi. Naruto would hold no challenge.
"You're on."
They circled each other. Sasuke took Naruto in: stocky, but sloppily stanced. The rumors were true, then.
Naruto had gone deadly quiet. Every muscle was visibly tensed, eyes following every move. He looked grimmer than Sasuke had ever seen.
His intense focus surprised Sasuke, but he wasn't afraid. All he had to do was wait and—
There.
He shot forward. Naruto's arms flew up. Flesh collided; knuckles bit. Naruto grunted. He dodged sideways and tried to slip under Sasuke's guard; Sasuke moved with him, cutting from the right.
Naruto's jaw bit Sasuke's knuckles. He recoiled with a glare. Sasuke bared his teeth.
"Careful," he hissed.
"Follow your own advice," Naruto shot back.
On it went. Naruto's fought unrefined—landing blows with wild force, throwing his weight into movement—but he was tireless. Sasuke's strikes glanced off as if he'd been made from stone.
Right. Dodge. Back. Forward.
Dust flew up. Sweat stung his eyes. Every breath became a punch: hot air in, hot air out. Sasuke's muscles ached.
Sasuke had no idea how long it'd been. The fight was supposed to be over. Frustration curled hot in his chest; he forced it away. He couldn't get distracted.
Blue eyes blazed; shoulders hunched tight. Naruto's shots got even sloppier.
He lunged. Sasuke moved back, ready to dart around—and felt earth crumble under him.
In an instant Naruto had his ankle hooked. Sasuke fell to his knees, snarling. He refused to lay down. His pride wouldn't allow it; he wouldn't allow it.
They grappled hands. Hot breath washed over Sasuke, mixing with his own. Their heads smacked; Sasuke bit his tongue and tasted blood.
Sasuke wasn't a messy fighter by nature, but he felt something changing. Naruto pressed in hard. They rolled, grappling desperately. Blood pounded in Sasuke's ears; his body throbbed, alive.
Naruto fought hard, but Sasuke wouldn't lose.
He'd trained with the best.
Dirt clouded. Naruto's eyes narrowed, tears streaming, and Sasuke saw his chance.
He rolled them again. An arm wrapped around Naruto's neck. The blond thrashed and bucked beneath him. Sasuke grit his teeth and held on for dear life.
And then, after a minute of furious squirming, Naruto relaxed.
Sasuke sucked in a breath. His heart beat furiously on his tongue, filling his head with noise. He could feel Naruto's breaths on his arm—his body heat, unbearably warm.
"Point," Sasuke panted.
Naruto ripped away from him and rolled onto his back. His chest heaved; his skin gleamed with sweat. Sasuke rose to his feet slowly.
"How," Naruto breathed, "did I do?"
Sasuke looked down at him. Even caked in dirt, Naruto glowed. He looked away.
Sakura stared from the bench, arms crossed. Sasuke had forgotten she was there. "Are you sure you can go another round right now?" she asked. Her eyes swept over them. "You both look wiped."
"Give me a few and I'll prove it," Sasuke breathed.
Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Okay." She stood and held out his water. "Here."
It was as Sasuke expected: neither teammate was up to par physically. Sakura was better about her form, but she was too obvious. Their fight was almost painfully short compared to Naruto's; all Sasuke had to do was watch her body language to do her in.
He didn't escape unscathed, though. Sakura's right hook was fucking terrifying.
Afterwards they sat beneath the trees. The morning dew had evaporated into musky, thick heat; every inhale tasted like dirt and sweat, salty bitterness on Sasuke's tongue. He was going to have to shower twice after this.
"I've been thinking." Naruto tilted his head back. "Why can't we just ask someone to be our sponsor?"
Sakura rolled her eyes. "Do you even pay attention? They have to choose us—it defeats the purpose of the exercise if we beg someone for a handout."
"Who said we'd be begging?"
"Idiot," Sasuke grunted. "We have you. Nobody's going to want to sponsor your scores."
"Bastard! Nobody's gonna want us with your shit attitude!"
"At least I'm capable."
"Yeah, capable of being a grade A bastard!"
"You already used that insult."
Naruto got to his feet."What's your problem?" he growled. "I barely even know you and you act like you have bees up your ass. Why do you dislike me so much? I didn't even do anything!"
Sasuke glared up at him. "You're Naruto Uzumaki."
"What's that got to—"
"Listen," Sakura snapped. "Everyone knows your field scores aren't very good. We have to make up for that somehow." She sighed, shoulders slumping. "Like it or not, right now you're a liability."
"I don't want to be," Naruto protested.
"Then don't," Sasuke suggested. His eyes narrowed. "If you can."
"I'll do it if it's the last thing I do," the blond snapped. "You both will see. I'm gonna graduate and work for ANBU!"
The very idea was laughable. Nobody chose ANBU; ANBU chose you. It was like declaring to become president or something. Sasuke snorted loudly.
"With your record right now?" Sakura pointed out. "I hate to say it, but Sasuke's right. We're all going to have to improve to get what we want, you most of all." Naruto scowled, but couldn't disagree.
They lapsed into sullen silence. Sasuke drained the last of his water to the hum of bees and stood, wincing. His limbs felt like lead weights.
"Let's get this over with," he said. "I want to see your powers. Properly."
Naruto looked up with grim determination. "Will it get you off my back?"
Sasuke raised an eyebrow. "Can you do any better than sparkling like a beauty pageant?"
"Bastard." Naruto rose. "I'll show you what I can do."
The blond stepped out of the shade. Sasuke watched him walk to the clearing center, counting the steps between them. He turned.
"It's going to be bright," he warned. "Don't look right at me."
Sasuke bit back a sour comment and turned cheek. In his peripheral he could see Naruto's hands raise and his head tip back.
The effect was instantaneous.
Light exploded outward. Naruto's shape flared; his skin lit like molten gold. The shadows beneath them dried up, every dust mote and leaf alight, and even turned away, Sasuke had to shut his eyes.
And the heat. Sasuke already knew Naruto was a furnace—the blond practically slept in the nude—but bedroom heating was nothing compared to this. He felt like he'd stepped into an oven.
Slowly, the light dissipated. Afterimages danced over Sasuke's open eyes; he swung, turning to where Naruto bashfully glimmered rainbows.
"This is the lowest setting," he explained. "But that's about as bright as I can go before.."
Sakura wiped her forehead. "Is it always so hot?"
"Yeah. I can melt stuff if it's soft enough." Naruto paused, thinking. "I wonder if I could bake cookies."
"Who knows," Sasuke replied flatly. "Maybe we can bribe our sponsor that way."
"Can you extend the light?" Sakura asked.
"Like sending out beams? I don't know. I've never really tried manipulating it—I just think and it happens."
Sasuke mulled over the possibilities. Photomanipulation wasn't just moving light; if Naruto could learn to direct beams, they could also use temperature to their advantage. He could be a walking lighthouse, or one of those magnifying glasses under the sun.
If he stayed quiet long enough to surprise the enemy, anyway.
Sakura was next. Sasuke wasn't sure what to expect. Officially she was an Inventor, but from what he understood, Sakura didn't create illusions or compel elements.
She forced them .
The fist Sakura threw into the earth would have shattered a lesser man's hand. The ground beneath reverberated; soil roiled outward from the epicenter, rippling like waves. Sasuke sucked in a sharp breath.
The ground exploded. Dirt flew in every direction. A horrible, awful groaning echoed around them—wood cracking and splintering like rain—and Sasuke didn't understand why or how anything was happening until he finally managed to lift his head and see the thick, thorny tendrils three stories up.
Leaves sprouted from every surface. The trees were alive, trembling with unspoken fervor, and Sasuke had to cover himself again as needles rained from above. The air hung thick with sweet sap and sharp, fresh growth.
"There," Sakura said. "That's what I can do."
Naruto lowered his arms. "Holy fuck," he breathed. "You're like that girl from Sky High."
Sasuke shook himself free of dirt. He glared.
"I thought you said you were a healer."
"I'm multifaceted," she repeated smugly. "Maybe next time you should listen better."
Sasuke didn't know what to say to that.
After what had to be hours, a vague image of their team was becoming visible. It could maybe be worse, but there were holes they couldn't cover overnight.
For one, while both Sakura and Naruto had power and potential in spades (something he could begrudgingly admit internally), neither of them had exemplary ingenuity scores or finely-honed skill sets. They appeared to both get by on sheer raw output.
Of course, Sasuke thought irritably. They're Inventors. They fall right into the stereotype.
There was nothing to be done about it now, though. Wish as he'd like for an Intel, Sasuke was stuck with what he had.
"So," Naruto said, breaking through Sasuke's thoughts, "how do we test you?"
Sasuke eyed him warily. He could see Sakura giving the blond an incredulous look in his peripheral; they both knew Sasuke's reputation, the rumors of what he could do.
Why would anyone want to willingly be subject to that?
"We don't," he replied stiffly. "You take my word for it."
Naruto hummed. "That doesn't seem very fair."
"You don't want to experience my talents, trust me." Was Naruto really as oblivious as he looked?
"I can take it," Naruto said, confirming Sasuke's fears. "Try me."
"Naruto," Sakura interrupted, "I don't think that's a very good idea."
"What? Why?"
They shared a look. Sasuke hated the way she wouldn't say it outright—the way she stepped away from him, as if just remembering how dangerous he supposedly was.
Good, Sasuke thought bitterly. Better safe than sorry, isn't it? He swallowed hard, hating the sudden sourness on his tongue.
The tenuous peace between them had been ruined. Sasuke was out of there.
"I'm done playing with you two." He picked up his water bottle and turned back towards the buildings. "We can figure out who to ask tomorrow after classes."
"Sasuke? Wait!"
Sasuke didn't look back. Nobody followed him inside.
He couldn't decide if he hated it more that Naruto tried to stop him, or that Sakura obviously held the blond back.
After two days of his depressing new reality, Sasuke was dying to talk to Itachi. Sure, he motherhenned the crap out of Sasuke, but his overbearing love was far better than the wary looks Sasuke's housemates gave, or how Naruto treated him like a dangerous animal. Sasuke wished he'd never moved out at all. How was he going to stand two years of this?
He shot his brother an email Monday night.
>>Meet me at our spot tomorrow.
>Everything alright?
Sasuke didn't bother dignifying that question with an answer.
The spot— Hinami's Cafe, specifically—was a quaint little coffee shop wedged into the Academy's main plaza. Students and professors alike flocked to its brown booths and wicker-chair seating for the best baked goods on campus. The owner, Hinami herself, used to babysit Sasuke while Itachi was in class.
The cafe was moderately full when Sasuke arrived, but his favorite corner table remained occupied. He sank into it gratefully, inhaling rich wafts of grounds and baked bread, and felt his shoulders already relaxing. He'd needed this bad.
Itachi emerged from the bathroom almost immediately. He took his place across the table and gave Sasuke The Look. Sasuke hated when he did that.
"Needed a reprieve already?"
"Am I not allowed to have coffee with my brother?"
Itachi raised an eyebrow. "So soon after moving in? I would think you too busy."
"I'd always make time for you."
"Hmm." He leaned back. "What is this about, Sasuke?"
Sasuke stared into his brother's eyes and sighed. He looked to the ceiling, eyeing the wobbly ceiling fan. Where was he supposed to start?
"It's them," he explained eloquently. "They're.. somehow both better and worse than I expected."
Itachi's second eyebrow rose to meet the first.
"Haruno," Sasuke said. "You were right about her scores being middle-of-the-road. She has good output, but I can't quite gauge how multifaceted she is." He decided not to mention how Sakura had left him speechless. "They're both lacking in creativity. And they're Inventors."
"Did you expect anything more?" Itachi asked.
"Yes," he replied bluntly. "This is the top Academy in the country. What's the point of attending if you don't have finesse? Or a brain?"
"Careful, Sasuke. Your big head must be painful for your neck."
"Shut up Itachi. You know what I mean."
"Well, have you tried showing them what you can do?"
Sasuke stiffened. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"Oh, Sasuke," his brother sighed. "How do you expect your teamwork to improve if you won't even work with them? Do they even know what you're capable of?"
He shifted uncomfortably. This was not how he expected their conversation to go. "I'm sure they've heard the rumors."
"Why not show them the real thing?"
"Are you really suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "You know what happens when Intercoms use their powers on other people. I could be expelled if something goes wrong! How am I supposed to just whip out my powers on a whim?"
"You're going to have to get used to it. Combat training requires monitored use."
"No. I.. this is beside the point. This isn't what I came for. I need.."
He sucked in a deep breath. He hated asking Itachi for favors—hated living in his heritage's shadow, as powerful as was. But how else was this going to work?
Who else was going to help them at this point? With Naruto Uzumaki on his team?
"I need a sponsor," Sasuke said. "And I need you to tell me who to ask."
Itachi exhaled slowly. He tapped one finger carefully against the polished table. "I didn't think you to be the one pulling favors."
"It's dire," he admitted. "I don't see how else we'll find one. We don't have anything in common, and right now Uzumaki's scores make him deadweight. Nobody will want to vouch for us."
Itachi hummed thoughtfully. The waitress, sensing a break in their tense conversation, finally came by to take their orders. Both brothers ordered without even looking at the menu; they'd been Hinami's regulars for years and knew exactly what they liked.
When Sasuke's espresso arrived, he didn't even bother sugaring it. He took a giant, steaming mouthful—burns and all—and swallowed. Itachi's nose wrinkled, but he refrained from saying anything. The battle over Sasuke's tastes (and sense of patience) had long stalemated.
"Well," he finally said, when both of their cups were half-empty. "I do know one man who might take you."
Sasuke looked up from his cup. "Who is it?" he demanded.
"An old coworker of mine. He's become a permanent professor—a partial retirement, if you will." Itachi paused. "He's.. a character in his own right. Yes. I think he'll take you all on."
"A name, Itachi," Sasuke pushed. "I need a name."
Itachi smiled.
"It's the night before instruction begins. Are you sure he's going to be here?"
"I know what Itachi said," Sasuke repeated. "He'll be here. We just have to ingratiate ourselves somehow and the deal is done."
Itachi hadn't been clear on exactly how that was supposed to happen—he'd seemed bafflingly confident that this professor would sponsor them—but Sasuke figured it couldn't be that difficult. He had to be a real sucker to take on Naruto, right?
And you, Itachi had not-so-helpfully pointed out. You're on the same team. Your strengths are each other's, now.
The idea of holding hands and singing kumbaya with Naruto made Sasuke vaguely ill, but at this point he would fake any friendship to get a sponsorship. Sasuke was going to graduate with highest honors. He would drag the others behind like deadweight if he had to.
The building they'd been directed to was nestled behind the Academy's main library and a nearby residency office. Dead needles were strewn over the cobblestones; the air hung thick with old smoke—a fireplace somewhere, or a serious cigarette problem. Sasuke tried not to sneeze.
"The lights are off," Naruto noted. "Are you sure he's here?"
Sasuke deigned not to answer. He eyeballed the pathway. If this building was used daily like Itachi said it was, then how did anyone get inside?
His gaze strayed to the trees. Their branches were similarly ungroomed, thick and snarled enough to block the dying sunlight.
And low enough to climb.
He turned to Sakura. "Can you get us to the second floor?"
"What am I, your on-demand garden service?" Her nose wrinkled at his glare. "Okay, fine. Stand back."
She stepped forward, fingers trailing over the snarled lower branches. Instantly they greened under her touch: new leaves growing, extending upwards, curling like a slow, curved staircase. Several thick roots burst from the grass to form lower steps. The last branch stopped inches from a second-story window.
"Ladies first," she said, and stepped forward.
The windowpane was opaque with grime. Old litter smeared the sill, clogging the drain with dead leaves. It almost looked unused—if not for the shiny, obviously-oiled hinges.
Bingo.
Sasuke's expertise lied within the mind, but that didn't stop him from picking up a couple tricks alongside his education. Breaking and entering, for example.
Within seconds he'd jimmied the outer lock. The window slid up soundlessly, clicking into place. Perfect.
"What the hell," Naruto hissed. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
"Ninja school," he muttered, and jumped inside.
The building's interior belied its usage. Even with heavy dust over the windows, the floor was perfectly swept. There wasn't garbage on any of the desks; the bookcases, thickly stocked, were polished to perfection. A tiny doggie bed sat in the corner.
"That's weird," Naruto remarked. "I thought you said—"
Snap!
Sasuke lunged sideways on reflex. Sakura screamed. Naruto yelped like a kicked dog, flaring bright enough to blind a small animal.
Cord swung inward. Something tight viced over Sasuke's limbs; he flipped end-over-end like Charlie Brown until he found himself staring at the floor.
Suspended.
"Oh my god," Sakura breathed. "We were booby-trapped?"
They hadn't just been booby-trapped—they were clumped together like fresh catch in a fishing net. Sasuke could feel Naruto's elbow digging into his spine.
Slowly, a single shadow slipped out from behind the furthest bookcase. Sasuke glared as the figure came within Naruto's glowering halo. A book lowered from its face.
"Excuse me," Professor Hatake said. "Who the hell are you?"