Naruto stumbled over his words, reciting the first symptoms like a grocery list—the muscle tension, the headaches, that horrible too-tight-skin feeling. When he got to the latest episode, his voice caught. "The last one hit different," he said, fingers tapping nervously against his thigh. "Like, I was totally fine one minute, then suddenly I wasn't. I took my dose that morning and everything seemed normal until Kiba called, and then—" His words dried up as heat crawled across his face, turning the tips of his ears crimson.
Tsunade's pen hovered, then scratched. She turned the page with her thumb and met Sasuke's gaze across the table. "Kiba," she repeated.
Naruto nodded. "He's a friend. Beta. He's safe, I mean—not a trigger."
Tsunade's eyes flicked up, eyebrows arched. "Random, then?"
"Yeah," Naruto said, trying to laugh it off. "It was just a call. Not like there was anything else happening."
Tsunade's expression shifted, curiosity blooming into something closer to suspicion. She clicked the pen, then set it down. "How about the context? What were you talking about?"
Naruto shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. "Soccer, school stuff. The usual. He was just checking in."
Tsunade's gaze lingered on him, then drifted to Sasuke, who hadn't moved except to tap his finger once on the table. She leaned back, folding her arms, and regarded them both with a new, clinical interest.
Tsunade suddenly pivoted toward Sasuke, her eyes gleaming with clinical precision. "You mentioned two incidents," she said, tapping her pen against the notepad. Sasuke's jaw tightened as Naruto turned to him, confusion evident in his widened blue eyes. A trickle of sweat formed at Sasuke's hairline—Uchihas didn't get nervous, and yet here he was. Tsunade leaned forward. "When exactly was the first one?"
Sasuke's fingers curled against his thigh beneath the table. The old woman's eyes glinted with calculation as she lobbed the question like a grenade, watching for his reaction. Every word was a deliberate trap—not direct enough to deny, but pointed enough that Naruto was starting to notice. His jaw clenched so tight he could feel a muscle jumping beneath his skin.
Sasuke's jaw tightened. "About a week ago," he said, eyes flicking toward Naruto, whose face darkened at the memory. "After he decided to play hero and nearly got himself beaten by a pack of Alphas. We argued about it afterward, and I..." He trailed off, the unspoken admission hanging in the air between them.
Something in Tsunade's expression yielded, like ice beginning to crack. She set her notebook down and mussed Naruto's hair, her fingers rough but lingering. "You've always had more heart than sense," she murmured, barely audible over the café chatter. "Remember that when the world tries to convince you it should be the other way around."
A knot of tension unwound between Sasuke's shoulder blades when Tsunade skipped over mentioning the second incident in her questioning.
The heat in Naruto's cheeks spread to his ears, but Tsunade was already moving on. "Let's see what you've got left."
Naruto dug into his pocket, produced a tin case, and pushed it across the formica with damp fingers. The lid popped with a hollow sound under Tsunade's thumb.
Her index finger tapped each remaining pill, lips forming silent numbers. The case snapped shut with a crack that jolted Naruto upright. "Fourteen days," she said, striking the case against her notebook twice. "That's all it took to burn through what should have lasted until the end of the month." One eyebrow arched high enough to disappear beneath her bangs, the gesture carrying more judgment than a courthouse full of lawyers.
Naruto tried to shrink, but Sasuke's knee pressed against his under the table, pinning him in place.
Naruto's fingers twisted in his lap. "Between the move and classes starting and everything else..." His voice trailed off, eyes fixed on the table.
Tsunade's pen scratched across her notepad, the sound sharp in the quiet booth. "Take twice this amount, and our next conversation won't be about suppressants—it'll be about which hospital has the shortest waiting list for liver donors." She slapped her notebook closed and leveled her gaze at Naruto, one eyebrow arched.
After a moment Tsunade's shoulders relaxed, the doctor vanishing as the family friend emerged. Her fingertips tapped a quiet rhythm against her medical bag.
"Listen," she said, leaning in until her voice was barely audible over the café noise. "Your suppressant dosage is unsustainable. But there's another option." She glanced at Sasuke, then back to Naruto. "Regular proximity to a compatible Alpha naturally stabilizes Omega hormones. Better than any pill I can prescribe."
Naruto's chair creaked as he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Let me get this straight. You want me to find some random Alpha to just... what? Follow me around campus like some kind of hormone bodyguard?"
Tsunade's lips curved into a knowing smile as she leaned back and grabbed her coffee cup. She took a slow sip, eyes never leaving his face. "I don't think you'll need to look very far."
Heat crawled up Naruto's neck as he glanced at Sasuke, whose shoulders had gone rigid beside him. "Wait—you can't possibly mean—" His eyes darted between them. "If we were compatible, why am I burning through suppressants like candy?"
Tsunade set down her cup with a soft clink against the saucer. Her eyes narrowed, lips pursing into that familiar expression Naruto had seen a thousand times—the one that meant he was missing something obvious.
"Regular intimate contact," she said, enunciating each syllable with clinical precision. "Alpha pheromones released during physical intimacy have a stabilizing effect on Omega hormones that can't be replicated by mere proximity."
When Naruto's expression remained blank, Sasuke exhaled sharply.
"She means sex," he said, voice low and flat. His dark eyes flicked to Naruto's face, catching the flush that bloomed across his cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. Something tightened in Sasuke's chest at the sight—a reaction he immediately suppressed.
Naruto's mouth opened and closed twice before words finally tumbled out. "I haven't—I mean, I've never—" His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "This isn't how I pictured my first time, okay? As some kind of medical treatment."
Sasuke's jaw tightened, a heat spreading beneath his ribs at the realization that no one else had touched Naruto before him. The thought sent a primal satisfaction through his veins that he immediately forced down, his expression carefully neutral despite the possessive hunger clawing inside.
Tsunade's eyebrow arched toward her hairline. "If there was no intercourse involved in this... assistance..." She let the implication hang in the air between them.
Naruto's face blazed hot enough to warm the entire café. His gaze dropped to the table as he mumbled something that sounded like "manual stimulation" through barely moving lips.
Tsunade sighed, like she was talking to a child, her clinical tone cutting through his embarrassment. "There's more to sexual contact than penetration. Your body releases pent-up hormones during any intimate activity." She tapped her pen against her notepad. "Regular self-stimulation helps too, though it's not as effective as Alpha contact." Naruto kept his eyes fixed on his coffee cup, but couldn't resist a quick glance at Sasuke, whose expression remained impassive save for the telltale crimson creeping along the edges of his ears.
Tsunade leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Think of it like a chemical handshake," she said, sketching two interlocking circles on her notepad. "When you're intimate, his body releases compounds that settle yours down. But your body—" she tapped the second circle with her pen, "—does something just as important for him. Ever notice how unmated Alphas get all..." she made a claw with her free hand, "...especially around other Alphas? That's because they're missing what you naturally provide." Her eyes caught Naruto's mortified expression, and her clinical tone softened. "Kid, this isn't some dirty secret. It's just biology doing exactly what it's supposed to do."
Tsunade leaned back against the vinyl booth, her shoulders dropping with the weight of professional resignation. "Look, I've spent two decades watching pharmaceutical companies try to bottle what happens naturally between Alpha's and Omega's," she said, tapping her pen against the rim of her coffee cup. "They're still chasing what evolution perfected thousands of years ago."
Sasuke's voice cut through the silence. "I'll do it." His tone left no room for debate, though Naruto's wide eyes suggested he'd try anyway. "We've already established I would help. And as she pointed out, this arrangement benefits us both."
"But—" Naruto began.
"We'll keep it simple," Sasuke continued, his gaze steady. Then, with the slightest quirk of his lips, he added, "Nothing more intimate than necessary. Unless that's something you decide you want."
Heat flooded Naruto's face, the blush reaching the tips of his ears. "In your dreams, Uchiha," he hissed.
Tsunade's pen moved across her notepad with clinical efficiency. "I'll mark this as the agreed treatment plan," she said, as though documenting nothing more remarkable than a vitamin regimen.
Naruto's mouth opened, but Sasuke's hand closed over his wrist, not hard, but firm enough to still the tremor.
Tsunade watched the exchange with clinical interest. "I'll schedule you for the first follow-up in a month," she said, already making a note in her phone. She looked at Naruto, her eyes warm but unyielding. "You're not alone in this. Let the Alpha help. It's what they're for."
The protest died on Naruto's tongue before it could form words. Nothing about this arrangement was normal, but Sasuke's fingers remained wrapped around his wrist, warm and steady against his pulse.
Tsunade reached into her coat, pulled out her wallet, and pushed a crumpled ten-dollar bill across the table. "Be a good kid and get me another coffee, would you?"
Naruto blinked, then nodded, scrambling from the booth with a muttered, "Sure." As he crossed to the counter, Tsunade watched him go, her eyes unreadable.
She tracked Naruto's path to the counter, waiting until he was fumbling the order at the register before pivoting toward Sasuke. The warmth drained from her face.
"Uchiha," she said, each syllable like ice dropping into still water.
Sasuke's shoulders squared, his chin lifting a fraction of an inch.
Tsunade's fingers curled around her pen until her knuckles whitened. "I've known that boy since he was in diapers," she said, gaze never leaving Sasuke's face. "He survives. That's what he does. But surviving isn't living, and I won't watch him endure one more unnecessary wound."
The wooden table surrendered with a soft pop as Tsunade's fist connected, leaving hairline fractures blooming outward from the impact. A girl with Beta-neutral perfume at the next booth startled, her coffee sloshing, before burying herself in her textbook.
"Harm one blonde hair on his head," Tsunade said with the calm of a surgeon describing routine procedure, "and I'll ensure your remains are too scattered for even the Registry's DNA sequencing."
Sasuke met her gaze without blinking. "Understood."
Tsunade smiled, but the expression never touched her eyes. She opened her notebook and scribbled a line, then closed it for good. "You'd be surprised what a medical examiner can overlook in the right hands," she said, almost to herself.
By the time Naruto returned, two coffees in hand, Tsunade was all business, her posture relaxed, her smile warm and genuine. She took the cup, patted Naruto's shoulder, and gathered her things.
"Same time next month," she said, standing. "And if you have any more 'random' episodes, call me first. Don't wait for it to get worse."
Naruto's fingers drummed against the table. "Before you go—" The words tumbled out as Tsunade paused, her medical bag half-closed. "Does the name 'Chimera Project' mean anything to you?"
The change in Tsunade was seismic, though subtle. Her hand went still mid-zip, pale knuckles flexing as she adjusted her grip on the bag. Her gaze slid sideways, meeting Sasuke's, then back to Naruto, the fraction of a second stretched into something brittle and taut.
Sasuke noticed it too. He'd been half-lost in thought, still chewing over the arrangement they'd just agreed to, but now his mind snapped into focus, cataloging every micro-expression on Tsunade's face. The slight tension of her jaw. The way her tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek, as if weighing what to say next.
The ambient noise of the café—steam whistling, cups clinking, the faint hum of conversation—seemed to mute itself as all three of them leaned into a pocket of private gravity, a moment that pressed on the chest like a prelude to disaster.
Tsunade dropped her bag onto the table with an audible thunk and pressed her fingers to her temples as if staving off a migraine. "Where did you hear that term?" she asked, voice lower and sharper than moments before. Not the maternal drawl, not the clinical detachment—something raw, and unmistakably dangerous.
Naruto met Tsunade's intensity with his own unwavering stare as he recounted their infiltration of the medical facility. Her fingernails tapped a staccato rhythm against the laminate tabletop, the tempo quickening when he described how Kabuto had nearly discovered his Omega status.
Tsunade pinched the bridge of her nose, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Let me get this straight. You two—untrained, barely-adult idiots—broke into a secure medical facility." She exhaled sharply through her nostrils. "And yes, I know about the Chimera Project, but—" She stopped, her gaze drifting to the window.
"We don't have time for dramatic pauses," Sasuke said, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.
Tsunade's shoulders dropped as she met their gaze. "The Chimera Project was mine," she said, her voice barely audible over the café's ambient noise.
Naruto's breath caught. The coffee cup trembled in his hand, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. "Yours?" The word came out strangled.
"Not what you're thinking," Tsunade said quickly, palms raised. "I had nothing to do with what you found."
Naruto's white-knuckled grip on the table gradually relaxed. "Then explain it," he demanded, while beside him, Sasuke remained silent, his dark eyes cataloging every flicker of emotion across Tsunade's face.
She exhaled slowly. "It was my doctoral thesis. Four decades ago, before the Registry even existed."
"What exactly," Sasuke asked, breaking his silence with precise words, "did this thesis propose?"
Tsunade's fingers traced the rim of her cup. "Forty years is a long time for scientific terminology to evolve," she said, her voice hollow with forced casualness. She met their stares and her shoulders fell. "My research explored triggering dormant genetic markers in Betas—specifically those that could potentially manifest Omega traits."
Naruto's spine went rigid as Sasuke's jaw locked beside him. The air between them crackled with shared understanding. "Your research," Naruto said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Could someone have taken it? Used it for this?"
Tsunade's fingers stilled on her cup. "It wasn't some classified research, Naruto," she said, voice hollow. "Just doctoral work that's been gathering dust in academic journals for decades. Anyone with university database access could have found it." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "But we're talking about research so outdated it should be irrelevant by now."
Finally Tsunade zipped her bag with a decisive tug, the sound cutting through Naruto's deflating hope. His shoulders curved inward, another dead end written in the slump of his spine. She reached across the table, her palm finding his shoulder with practiced familiarity.
"I'll dig into this," she said, voice low enough that only their table could hear. "If someone's bastardized my research, I'll find the connection."
Naruto's eyes lifted, a flicker of his usual brightness returning. She squeezed once before withdrawing her hand, fingers pausing to ruffle his hair in a gesture unchanged since childhood. Her final glance at Sasuke contained all the warmth of liquid nitrogen before she turned, coat swinging behind her as she pushed through the café door.