Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sasuke Uchiha tried to steady his nerves as he walked up to the front door of the luxury beachside villa on the west coast of the Big Island. 

The bright Hawaiian sunshine bathed Sasuke in comforting warmth as he approached Naruto Uzumaki’s villa. He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet fragrance of hibiscus that blossomed in vibrant clusters along the perfectly manicured yard. The property exuded exclusivity and attention to detail, with each flower bed carefully maintained and the lawns trimmed to perfection. 

Everyone on the island knew the name Naruto Uzumaki. He was more than just a local celebrity—he was a millionaire, a successful entrepreneur, and a world extreme surfing champion. His reputation preceded him, a legend whose accomplishments were as impressive as his public image. Even the architecture of his home echoed this status: the enormous two-storey structure, constructed of gleaming glass and solid concrete, stood tall and imposing. The massive koa wood door, polished to a high sheen, added to the sense of grandeur. It wasn’t just a house; it was a statement, intimidating in both scale and opulence, and it seemed to tower over Sasuke, making him feel small in comparison. 

Sasuke tried not to feel a pang of envy. He couldn't afford to rent a single room in a house like this, much less own one. Not so for Naruto Uzumaki, gorgeous and wealthy, who ranked three years running as Hawaii's most eligible bachelor in the local magazine, beating out even legendary rock stars who had taken up residence on Kauai. It was no wonder he was nervous. But he wasn't a groupie, he reminded himself. Sasuke was here on a mission. 

He rang the bell and waited, his hands damp as they gripped the handle of the bag containing the thank you gifts he had prepared: two handcrafted aromatherapy candles and several crayon drawings completed by his four-year-old son, Akari. Included was a gift certificate for a complimentary Tai Chi session—an offering Sasuke doubted Naruto would utilize, but given his limited financial resources, the lessons he could provide were among the few contributions available to him. 

Sasuke briefly considered leaving the package on the doorstep, mindful that the candles might melt in the afternoon heat. Ultimately, he chose to present the gifts in person, believing a direct expression of gratitude to Naruto was warranted. This intention also explained why he elected not to send the items by mail. 

He glanced at his reflection in the glass door. 

Sasuke took particular care to keep his pale skin immaculate, a habit ingrained in him from childhood. He was meticulous about applying sunscreen, often in greater quantities than most would consider necessary, and had always avoided direct sunlight as though it were dangerous. His mother, originally from Kyoto, had insisted upon this routine long before the widespread understanding of SPF and its protective benefits became common knowledge. 

That morning, Sasuke had come straight from home, dressed for his upcoming shift as a personal trainer at the large local gym. His attire was practical and professional—yoga capris, soft shoes, and a fitted athletic tank top. He had also pinned his dark hair away from his forehead to keep it neat and out of his eyes during sessions. Now, standing in the impressive shadow cast by Naruto’s villa, Sasuke was acutely aware of how casual his outfit seemed. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was underdressed for the occasion. Then again, he mused, what did one wear when expressing gratitude to the man who had saved their child’s life? 

This week marked the year anniversary of the tsunami that had nearly drowned Akari. If it hadn't been for Naruto Uzumaki, his precious boy would've died. 

Sasuke would never forget that morning. Sasuke had dropped Akari off at daycare as usual, but then, when he was already at work, on the tenth floor gym of a high rise, the earthquake hit, the tsunami came ashore, wrecking much of the western shoreline, and he got the worst news a parent could receive: his boy had never made it to the evacuation centre. He was missing. 

Then, after a horrible day of waiting, he got a message on his only social media account: friends of Naruto Uzumaki were trying to reach him. Naruto had broken his leg saving his son, and they were both in the hospital. Akari, thankfully, had only scratches. 

Thanks to Naruto. 

Sasuke's heart clenched painfully whenever he recalled that dreadful day—the overwhelming terror and icy panic that washed over him when the daycare centre informed him that Akari was missing. For Sasuke, his son was everything; Akari was his entire world. The young father had been only nineteen years old when Akari was born, barely out of adolescence himself. 

Akari’s arrival was not planned. He had been the result of a reckless moment—a lapse in judgement fuelled by too many drinks and Sasuke’s ongoing journey to understand his sexuality. It all happened quickly: a professional cheerleader, drawn to Sasuke’s appearance, was visiting the island for the Pro Bowl. Their encounter was brief and chaotic, a blur of lights, alcohol, and the back of a bus. Sasuke could hardly remember the details and had initially intended to forget the whole event, dismissing it from his life entirely. 

Until months later, he received a call and learned of how he was going to be a father. But a professional cheerleader had no time to be a mother, wanted nothing to do with Akari and quickly signed away her parental rights. 

Sasuke never fought for support. He wasn't going to beg anyone for anything. He didn't like the idea of being indebted to anyone, for any reason. 

Which was why, as grateful as he was to Naruto, he hated the feeling that he felt he owed the surfer. One way or another, he was going to find a way to pay that debt. Right now the only thing he could think to do was honour Naruto on every anniversary of that tsunami. 

Sasuke insisted to himself that his fascination with the renowned surfer was purely circumstantial, unrelated to the fact that Naruto possessed a physique and dazzling smile worthy of a Calvin Klein underwear campaign. He tried to convince himself his interest had nothing to do with the way Naruto’s body seemed sculpted by years of athletic discipline, nor the effortless confidence in his grin. Likewise, Sasuke reminded himself that Naruto’s wealth—amassed from a string of lucrative sponsorship deals and endorsements—had no bearing on his thoughts. It was only natural, he reasoned, to be momentarily distracted in the presence of someone whose achievements and lifestyle were so far removed from his own. 

He rang the bell once more and, unable to help himself, stole a glance through the expansive wall of glass windows that lined the front of the house. All that greeted his gaze was tasteful granite countertops, smooth finished wood, and floors polished to a gleam. Was that a lanai out back? The open-concept living room, completely unencumbered by walls, sprawled out in a way that dwarfed his entire condo back home. Beyond it, Sasuke caught sight of a glistening mirrored pool, its surface so perfectly still and reflective that it seemed to cascade seamlessly into the endless blue of the ocean beyond. He blinked rapidly, trying to process the sheer beauty and scale of it all, and forced himself not to press his nose up against the pristine glass. This might very well be the most beautiful house he had ever set eyes on. 

He saw movement inside and held his breath. 

Was Naruto going to answer the door? Or was he too rich for that? Was there a butler? His stomach lurched. He didn't know why he cared. As a single parent, he didn't have time to date. He barely had time to sleep. 

He heard the door lock click and the knob turn. Naruto stood there, shirtless, clad only in swim trunks. 

For a moment, Sasuke’s mind went utterly blank. Any semblance of composure or carefully rehearsed lines evaporated as he took in the sight before him. The words he’d meant to say dissolved on his tongue, leaving him unable to speak. All that filled his thoughts was the overwhelming impression of height and strength—Naruto was so tall, so broad-chested. His gaze travelled helplessly over endless expanses of sun-bronzed skin, every inch sculpted with muscle, not a trace of softness anywhere. Sasuke tried to swallow, but his throat refused to cooperate. Naruto’s sheer presence—his size, his height, the power in his form—left Sasuke momentarily speechless. 

Big muscles. Big, big muscles. 

Sasuke felt as if he'd devolved instantly into a caveman.  

Big muscles. Me like. 

The last time he'd seen Naruto, he'd been recovering in a hospital bed, fully clothed, his hurt leg in traction. He'd been tanned and attractive, sure, but clothed. That fierce six pack had been safely tucked away under a white hospital gown. 

Sasuke caught himself staring at Naruto’s tanned, perfectly sculpted abs, unable to look away. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch the firm definition, wondering how Naruto had achieved such remarkable physique. Although Sasuke worked at a gym and saw impressive bodies every day, the sight of Naruto’s abs left him genuinely stumped, marvelling at the sheer quality of muscle before him. 

He also realized that Naruto was much taller than he remembered. Standing close, Sasuke found his own eyes were at the level of Naruto’s broad chest—an undeniably impressive chest that only added to his sense of awe. The surfer’s physical presence was overwhelming, making Sasuke acutely aware of both the difference in stature and the extraordinary athletic build before him. 

Full lips curled up in an amused smile. "May I… help you?" 

Oh, yes. Yes, you can.  

Sasuke immediately felt his face flush a vivid tomato red. He was rarely this bold—even in his own imagination. Typically, he didn't behave like a lovesick teenager, chasing after dates or letting his emotions get the better of him. Yet, in this moment, he found himself almost gasping for air, unable to control the rapid pulse of attraction. What was happening to him? It was as if he had never encountered a handsome man without a shirt before, and the sight of Naruto left him reeling, his self-control slipping away. 

Get a grip, Sasuke.  

All those meatheads at the gym should've long since inoculated him against the power of the male form. 

And yet… clearly they hadn't. 

"I...uh..." Why couldn't his mind form words any longer? Sasuke felt as though he'd been hit on the head. Could a person get a concussion from close proximity to Hawaii's hottest and richest bachelor? Naruto probably got this all the time: men and women who lost the ability to speak in his presence. 

"Yes?" Naruto asked politely. With great effort, Sasuke pulled his attention away from the surfer’s physique and tried to focus on his face. 

Sasuke quickly realised his initial mistake. While Naruto’s tanned chest was undeniably captivating, it was his face that proved even more distracting. Every feature was precisely defined—his eyes were a striking crystal blue, intelligent and clear, framed by eyebrows that hinted at both expressiveness and playful mischief. Naruto’s mouth was undeniably sensual, and the subtle stubble across his strong, square jaw only added to his allure. 

Leaning casually against the doorframe, Naruto let his broad, muscular shoulders slump as he crossed his arms over his chest. He waited patiently, his posture relaxed yet commanding, leaving Sasuke with no choice but to break the silence and say something. 

Why wasn't his mouth working? 

"Hi..."  

Say your name. Your name.  

"Sasuke." 

"Sauce-skee?" 

This was going even worse than he'd feared. 

"No. Just Sasuke." Heat flared up the back of his neck. "Uh... Sasuke Uchiha. I..." 

Naruto's face showed zero recognition. He felt a little pinch in his chest. It had been a year since he'd seen the surfer and he didn't have Akari with him, and yet, somehow, he'd been hoping Naruto would remember him. 

"Maybe you'd like to come in? Get out of the sun?" Naruto offered, looking concerned. 

Yes, because clearly he was acting like a sunstroke victim. 

Sasuke just bobbed his head and stepped inside the cool interior, entering a masterfully designed living room that seamlessly opened onto a sprawling terrace. The massive lanai he had glimpsed from the window was even more impressive up close, offering an invitation to explore its vastness. Cushioned couches were arranged throughout the open space, providing both comfort and elegance. A small wooden footbridge arched gracefully over a koi pond, connecting the living room to the patio that bordered a gleaming, glassy square pool. Beyond the pool, the view stretched endlessly, revealing miles upon miles of pristine blue Pacific Ocean. 

None of this helped Sasuke's composure. He felt as though he might hyperventilate, overwhelmed by the sheer luxury and beauty surrounding him. He couldn't decide which was more alluring: the blond's stunning home or his equally captivating physique. 

"So, Sasuke, how can I help you?" 

"We met last year?" Sasuke said, now distracted by expensive furniture and what had to be an 18 million dollar view. At least. Eighteen, maybe even twenty. 

"Last year?" Naruto scoffed a little, staring at him blankly. Then blue eyes studied him, his eyes giving the raven’s hair body a slow, appreciative sweep. "Uh... did we..?" He trailed off. 

Sasuke wondered if Naruto thought they had hooked up? Nah, no way he swings that way he quickly thought to himself.  

"Oh, no. I mean, no, we didn't." Now his neck felt as if it were on fire. Even his ears burned. Not that I wouldn't go for that. Right here on this gleaming wood floor.  "We met at the hospital." 

Naruto's face darkened, the playfulness instantly disappearing. "The hospital," he repeated. 

The tsunami had been life changing for him and Akari, but for Naruto, clearly it hadn't made much of an impression at all. And, he understood with sharp disappointment, neither had he. 

"I'm... uh… Akari's dad." 

Naruto furrowed his brow as if trying to remember. "Akari?" 

"Naruto?" A woman's voice called from one of the hallways. 

"Oh, uh...one minute." Naruto turned toward the voice, moving away from the rich koawood table in his living room. 

"Naruto? Everything okay?" The woman's voice drifted in from a back room, and as Sasuke turned, he saw a tall blonde, wearing nothing but a man's white button down shirt with the bottom three buttons done up, long tanned legs on display and her ample, gravity defying cleavage showing. Her mascara had seeped into dark rings around her eyes, but given her half naked state, Sasuke doubted anybody else noticed. The woman clearly didn't care about anyone seeing her either, as she moved closer to Naruto and the door. Of course a mansion like this would have an accessory like that: a gorgeous model type ready to serve the owner's every whim. 

As Naruto responded, "Sorry, sweetheart, just give me a minute," the half-naked blonde moved closer, pressing herself against him for a kiss. Her hands rested on his impressive chest, exactly where Sasuke, if given the chance, would have placed his own—right in the centre of Naruto’s sternum. Sasuke’s gaze lingered, imagining his hand tracing the ridges of Naruto’s abs, and he was suddenly overcome by a searing wave of envy. 

"But today's our last day on the island!" the woman said, jutting her lower lip out in a pout. 

Great, a tourist, too! Figures. 

"Babe?" Another woman emerged from somewhere in the house. Sasuke moved a little and saw a glimpse of stainless steel, granite and an ornate minitiled backsplash, all slate gray and white. This woman wore a bikini and held a fruity drink in her hand. "We're out of ice." 

Sasuke nearly barked out a harsh laugh. Now it had gone from uncomfortable to downright ludicrous. He'd assumed someone as gorgeous and rich as Naruto wouldn't be single, but two women at once? 

Was it the playboy mansion here? It was the cold, brisk wakeup call he needed. 

He’d been in some kind of daze, drawn in by the power of Naruto’s charisma, but now he snapped to attention. Every fibre in his all-organic, holistic, yoga-loving body rebelled against the scene. The excess of sensuality and indulgence was overwhelming, and he suddenly realized that there truly was such a thing as too much sex. 

The memory of his graduate paper on Qigong, the study of meditation and healing, lingered in his mind, reminding him of the importance of balance and moderation. Sasuke had explored these concepts deeply, recognizing how vital it was to maintain one’s energy and not let it be depleted by reckless behaviour. Now, confronted with the reality before him, those lessons resonated more than ever, urging him to reassess the situation and his place within it. 

You gave away too much of your Chi during sex, and then you didn't have enough energy left over for anything else. Naruto looked as if he barely had enough energy to hold open his front door. Obviously these women had spent all night draining the man of his… Chi. 

Sasuke didn't need any ancient Chinese alternative medicine theories to tell him that Naruto was on the wrong path. And that if he got involved with him, he'd be, too. The realization made him feel a little bit better somehow. 

You couldn't get with him anyway, but even if you did, would you want to be one more through a revolving door? 

The two women closed ranks around Naruto. The other came up and slid her hand through the crook of his free arm. Both women eyed Sasuke with interest, as if trying to surmise if they needed to defend their territory. 

"I'm going to go," Sasuke said, wanting to get out of there, fast. 

What did you expect? A red carpet welcome? 

Why would Naruto remember you, when he's got beautiful women falling at his feet? 

It hit him that for the past year he'd been idolizing the blond a little bit, making him out to be the kind of selfless hero who only existed in novels and movies and comic books. Naruto was just a man. 

Belatedly, he remembered he was still holding the thank you gift. It seemed so childish now, so inconsequential. What had he been thinking? 

The man had everything he could possibly want. 

"It's been a year, but I just wanted to…..uh, thank you. For Akari." He thrust the bag at Naruto as if it were a hot potato and bolted for the front door. 

He'd been planning a whole speech, but at this point, he didn't care about it at all. Naruto stared at the bag, puzzled, as he nearly tripped over the two steps leading to the door. But he swung open the door and was outside, then hurried toward his old used hatchback, an ancient car that ran only by his sheer will and his mechanic cousin's generosity. It looked like such an eyesore there at the edge of the beautiful lawn. 

"Sasuke!" He turned at the sound of his voice to see Naruto running after him, barefoot in his swim trunks. He tried not to notice tanned muscled calves at work. "Wait." 

He hesitated, car keys in hand. 

"How's Akari?"  

As Sasuke stood there, he realized that Naruto did remember Akari. The boy’s injuries from the tsunami—those small scrapes and scratches—had healed long ago, but the emotional wounds were far deeper. Even now, Akari continued to wake up screaming in the night, plagued by nightmares that refused to fade. His fear of water had persisted, and he steadfastly refused to swim since that harrowing day. Sasuke couldn’t fault him for that; the trauma had left a lasting mark. 

Despite these hardships, Sasuke glanced at Naruto, noting the kindness in his eyes. Yet, when he looked back at the women waiting impatiently on the porch, he felt a sense of disconnect. Sasuke found himself unable to share Akari’s struggles. Why would Naruto care, after all? He seemed to be living life without a care, surrounded by people and indulgence, enjoying every moment. 

"He's good," he said, which was 80 percent truth. "He talks about you all the time. He really wanted to come see you..." 

Naruto glanced back and for a split second looked embarrassed. That was something. 

"Oh, right. But I'm… well, not G-rated." He grinned sheepishly, as if half naked women were just the price he paid for being… him. Maybe that was true. "I'll straighten out my act sometime. I just don't know how." 

"You could change that," Sasuke said, his tone sharper than he intended. The words cut through the air, catching Naruto off guard. For a moment, surprise flickered across the blond surfer's face; it was clear he wasn't accustomed to being spoken to so bluntly. Sasuke, however, had reached his limit. He had no patience for self-pity, not even the faintest trace of it. 

To Sasuke, self-pity was nothing more than a selfish, useless waste of time. He believed that dwelling on one's misfortunes only served to keep a person stuck, preventing them from moving forward or making real change. His sharp retort reflected his conviction—Naruto had the power to change his circumstances if he truly wanted to, but wallowing would get him nowhere. 

He thought about all the days he could've wallowed after Akari's mom abandoned their child, the endless time raising a child alone or the time his own mother died. But he hadn't. He had things to do, a son to raise. Naruto needed a good shake. His tiger mom would've agreed if she'd still been alive. 

"Well, I've got to go." Sasuke turned the keys in his hand 

"Uh... wait. Maybe you could bring Akari around sometime? I'd love to see him." 

"No," he said before he could even think about it, imagining an orgy of alcohol and sex and half naked tourists. 

"No?" Naruto looked taken aback by his flat refusal.  

Sasuke got the impression people didn't tell Naruto no very often.  

"Just no? Come on, at least pretend to consider it!" 

Naruto flashed a dazzling white smile, his warmth evident in the striking blue eyes that had lingered in Sasuke’s thoughts throughout the past year. As Naruto reached out and gently touched Sasuke’s arm, an electric jolt coursed through him, nearly knocking him off balance. In that fleeting moment, Sasuke felt himself unconsciously leaning toward the blond, drawn by a force he could hardly resist. 

He looked down at Naruto’s hand, wondering what it might feel like resting on the small of his back, drawing him close for a kiss. When Sasuke glanced up again, he found Naruto’s blue eyes fixed on him, holding his gaze longer than was necessary. All Sasuke wanted, in that instant, was to lose himself in those eyes, to sink into their depths and forget everything else. 

That was before Sasuke's brain kicked in again. 

What was he doing? Pining over a man who plainly had more women in his life than he could handle and obviously wasn’t gay? He wasn't going to throw himself on top of the pile.  

"I mean, it's not a good idea." Akari already hero worshipped Naruto. He didn't need to learn the fine art of being a heavily partying bachelor at age four. 

Naruto looked at him intently. It was as if he could sense Sasuke’s inner conflict, as if he knew he was struggling to keep control, as if by grasping his arm, feeling his pulse tick up. 

"Naruto!" called one of the women from his front stoop. "Naruto, we're hungry!" 

"You'd better go," Sasuke managed. 

"Sasuke, wait..." But Sasuke ducked into his car and turned over the ignition. He drove off, not looking back. 

Chapter Text

Naruto sat in the waiting room of his manager's office in Kona, nursing a headache that worsened as the day dragged on. The morning had been particularly taxing, as he struggled to disentangle himself from two tourists who, after a brief encounter, seemed intent on moving into his home. He felt relieved that they had a flight to catch; otherwise, they might still be lounging by his pool, draining his supply of booze and food. Although Naruto was a man who appreciated the company of both women and men, he found himself vowing—once more—to stop falling into bed with strangers. Technically, he could continue this behaviour; after all, it was an enjoyable way to spend a Saturday. Yet, he recognized that it was a cycle he needed to break. 

Naruto knew, deep down, that his encounters—whether on a Tuesday or any other day—were merely a temporary solution. They served as a quick fix, a means to distract himself from the real issues looming in his life. Pursuing the company of men and women was easier than confronting the daunting prospect of chasing waves again. He recognized this pattern for what it was: avoidance. There was no need for a psychologist to tell him; the truth was evident. He was using fleeting relationships to avoid facing the challenges and fears that truly mattered. 

He frowned, thinking about his damn knee. He flexed it, wondering whether it would ever be 100 percent again. The World Big Wave Surf Championship was coming up soon. He was nowhere near ready, and he knew it, and that thought scared the hell out of him. 

The damn tsunami. 

Everything had been fine before the wave tore through half the island and broke his leg in three places and completely dislocated his knee. Doctors told him he was healed, but he didn't feel healed. His knee felt as if it was going to slip out of place. The ligaments like loose rubber bands. 

It could've been worse. He knew that. And he was glad he'd gotten the broken leg and not Akari. 

Sasuke and Akari. 

He had almost forgotten about them. He'd been so fixated on the tsunami and his own leg that his thoughts had crowded out little Akari. In some ways, the boy was impossible to forget. Naruto couldn't look at his battered knee and the long ugly scar that ran the length of his thigh without thinking about the dreadful day, about being washed out with Akari, about barely surviving. But Naruto didn't look at the day the same way Sasuke did. He didn't know why Sasuke was trying to thank him. He kept sending food all through that first month and then the second, too. Naruto had thought maybe Sasuke had forgotten him at last, but then he showed up on the anniversary of the damn thing. He really wished Sasuke would stop thanking him. 

He hadn't done anything. He'd simply stayed with the boy. In the end, it had been just dumb luck they'd not both been killed. He'd thought countless times, what might have happened if he hadn't gone to the daycare that day to check on his cousin? If he'd simply headed straight to higher ground? 

Naruto's thoughts drifted to Akari, the small, dark-haired boy whose courage had left a lasting impression. He remembered how the two of them, seeking shelter, had huddled together on the second floor of the daycare as the first wave approached. The boy was clearly frightened, but despite his fear, he tried his best to appear brave. At just three years old—barely more than a toddler—Akari found himself facing a life-or-death situation. When the tsunami struck, destroying half the building and tearing them from their place of refuge, Akari swam for his life alongside Naruto. The aftermath was harrowing: Naruto lay injured in the floodwaters, but Akari, almost miraculously, emerged unharmed. 

He'd done nothing special then but pray. 

Naruto found himself unable to convince Sasuke to see things his way. Sasuke's expression remained impassive, his serious, dark almond-shaped eyes betraying little emotion. The smoothness of Sasuke's milk-coloured skin and the elegant contours of his face, shaped by his Asian heritage, made him stand out in any crowd. Naruto realized he had forgotten just how striking Sasuke could be—how genuinely beautiful he was. 

As Naruto's thoughts wandered, he became painfully aware of where his mind was drifting. He felt uncomfortable, even sleazy, for entertaining notions about what Sasuke’s toned, lithe body might look like naked in his bed. The attraction was undeniable, but Naruto chastised himself for letting his thoughts stray in that direction. 

There you go again, avoiding the real problem. 

It was easy to avoid problems, he thought, when he had a pretty face to think about.  

Naruto reached into his pocket and pulled out the small business card Sasuke had slipped into the gift bag. It read "Sasuke Uchiha, personal trainer, life coach. Live life organically." 

He must be one of those New Age nuts, the kind that ate only granola and rabbit pellet food. 

Naruto had never been in that camp. He had always been a barbecue rib kind of guy. He flipped the card over and saw the "Good for One Free Tai Chi Class" scrawled on the back. He thought that was something only old people did, but Sasuke wasn't old. 

At least it wasn't yoga. Naruto couldn't see himself doing yoga. But Tai Chi, maybe he'd try it. 

Or maybe he'd just call the raven haired man and ask him out for a drink.  

Then he remembered the look of complete horror when he'd asked if he could see Akari, how quickly Sasuke squealed out of his driveway. Maybe Sasuke had a girlfriend or is with Akari's mom, maybe?  

Or maybe Sasuke's just not interested and doesn’t swing that way. 

Somehow, the thought electrified him just a little. It had been weeks since he'd found anyone a real challenge. He couldn't remember the last time someone flat out told him no. 

He held the card between his two fingers, thinking about Sasuke’s lean, athletic body. He was sexy, no doubt, but there was something else that intrigued him about Sasuke Uchiha. 

You could change that. Sasuke seemed so sure he could turn around the disaster his life had become, as if he had some magic bullet to solve all his problems. Naruto knew he couldn't, that it was probably just talk, and yet the way he'd said it,with unwavering conviction, got him wondering. 

Could he? 

He glanced at the business card again and then nearly laughed out loud. What was he thinking? The Tai Chi instructor didn't have the answers. It was just his little head doing all the thinking again. It was just about him being attracted to the other, nothing more. 

Besides, Uchiha was far too serious for him, he reasoned. A grown-up. That was what came to mind when he thought of Sasuke Uchiha. The exact opposite of the tourists he'd been having fun with lately. 

Naruto had always surrounded himself with people who didn’t take life too seriously. Their easy-going attitudes suited him, especially now, when the idea of investing energy into anything serious just seemed pointless. He couldn’t help but question the value of worrying or planning for the future, not after everything he’d experienced. 

After all, what was the use in getting caught up in life’s seriousness? He’d seen how quickly everything could be lost—one moment, things were as they should be, and the next, a freak national disaster or an unstoppable wave could sweep away everything that mattered. The randomness of catastrophe had taught Naruto that seriousness offered no guarantees, and, for him, levity felt like the only rational response. 

The office door swung open and Shikamaru Nara, Naruto's manager – tall, brunette and excessively tanned from spending too much time being lazy on the beach leaned out. He wore his trademark Tommy Bahama gear from head to toe. "Sorry about that, Naruto! You ready?" Naruto walked in and was quickly surrounded by pictures of himself: him endorsing all kinds of products; him on a Wheaties box; him launching his clothing company nearly two years ago. 

Naruto had made Shikamaru rich, but Shikamaru had done the same for Naruto. Naruto never thought in marketing terms. He just liked to surf. When Naruto was at the top of his surfing game, the relationship worked perfectly. These days, however, Naruto felt as though it was only a matter of time before Shikamaru found out his knee hadn't healed right. Then the endorsement deals would disappear overnight. 

Hanging above Shikamaru's desk was a giant photo of Naruto surfing a stomach churning nearly forty-five-foot wave at Mavericks, California, the break so heinous even some pro surfers steered clear of it. Naruto thought about his performance earlier that week on a wave not even a fifth that size. He'd made his fortune risking it all on big waves, and now he couldn't even stand upright on five measly feet. 

"How are you?" Shikamaru asked Naruto, who simply shrugged. 

"Fine, I guess," he said, studying the old picture on the wall. 

Half Hawaiian and half Japanese, Naruto had always felt as if he had the pulse of the water. All of his ancestors came from one island or another, and that brought with it a healthy respect for the sea. But lately, it felt as though he'd simply lost his gift. 

A knock at Shikamaru's office door drew Naruto's attention. He realized with a start that Kiba Inuzuka stood there. Kiba was Naruto's tow partner, or had been, before the tsunami. Kiba was the one who'd driven the Jet Ski that took him out to the big waves, the seventy footers that no one could physically paddle to. Kiba was also the one who had risked his life to go in and get him whenever Naruto wiped out. 

Kiba glanced at Naruto and frowned. 

"You didn't tell me he would be here," Kiba said. "You asked me to come here to talk about a new job. Now I see why you didn't want to do it on the phone." 

He had good reason to be angry. Naruto couldn't look his once good friend in the eye. He lived on Maui, so what was he doing here? 

"Maybe I ought to go," Naruto said, standing. 

"Both of you— sit. You used to be the best team in big wave surfing, but now you're not speaking." Shikamaru looked back and forth between the two men, who weren't saying anything. "You guys have been doing this for more than fifteen years. 

Come on, you and a handful of other pro famous surfers… you invented this sport. You guys found a way to surf waves that everyone else said were impossible to surf. Tell me why you girls are fighting so we can put this behind us." Shikamaru leaned back in his chair. 

Kiba, who was built like a linebacker, all broad, hefty muscle across his back, stared a hole through Naruto. "He knows why." 

"Kiba, I said I'm sorry." Naruto moved toward his old partner, but Kiba backed away, hands up. 

"I don't want your apology, man." Kiba's eyes had gone cold and flat. "You can keep that, along with your endorsements and your clothing line. Just… stay away from Ma No Umi. I told you once." 

"Kiba, come on, man," Shikamaru pleaded. "Let's sit down and talk about this. The Big Wave Championship is coming up. You and Naruto, you're like gold." 

"Keep your gold," Kiba muttered, shaking his head. Naruto wished he could say the right thing, but no matter how often he apologized, he could never make it right. He knew it and Kiba did, too. 

He felt a pang as memories flooded back—those years when only a handful of fearless souls would ever dare to take on a ninety-foot break. Yet, against all odds, he and Kiba had been right there, trading roles and towing each other into monstrous waves that could have ended their lives. The early days had been defined by intuition and determination; neither had the luxury of experience, so they relied on guts and quick thinking to stay upright and survive the relentless power of the ocean. The partnership was built on mutual bravery—or perhaps recklessness—and together they pushed the boundaries of what was possible, becoming pioneers in the sport. Now, after everything they had endured, they found themselves barely able to speak to each other. 

"Look, Shikamaru, nothing personal, but I'm done talking." In seconds, Kiba had stalked out of the office. Naruto watched him go, feeling as if a chapter in his life was closing, yet he wasn't done reading it yet. 

Shikamaru let out a long sigh. "You going to tell me what's going on there?" 

Naruto shook his head. "Not my story to tell." If Kiba hadn't told him the details, then Naruto wouldn't. 

"You've got a new tower? Someone you can trust?" 

"I'm working on it," Naruto lied. He wasn't. Why recruit a tow partner when his knee was 50 percent at best? 

"You'd better work fast." 

"I know." Naruto shrugged, thinking about his wipeout earlier in the week. He hadn't been on his board since. In fact, the very thought of getting out there again made his stomach buzz with nerves, as if he'd drunk too much of the Kona coffee. 

Shikamaru studied him a minute. "Knee okay?" 

"Still stiff," Naruto admitted, avoiding all eye contact, as if the truth would be evident on his face. 

Shikamaru nodded, looking somber, and then leaned forward, clasping his hands together on his desk. 

"Sakura says you're blowing off training." Sakura was Naruto's personal trainer, but even he had to admit he hadn't been very trainable lately. Sakura had told him to cut back on the bar life, but there wasn't anything scarier than not being able to surf again except dealing with that sober. 

"You gonna be ready?" 

Naruto met Shikamaru's gaze and for a split second considered spilling his guts and admitting everything. 

I'm not going to be ready. I might never be ready again. 

"I'm gonna try," Naruto said. He thought it was safely the truth, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wasn't sure. Was he trying? 

"The new surfboards are ready to go, but we need some promo shots," Shikamaru said, leaning back in his chair. Pure Kona sunshine filtered in from the big bay window behind his desk. "Maybe you on a big practice wave? Maybe on Ma No Umi? You know, after you find a new tow guy." 

"Yeah, sure. Sometime." No way. Never. 

"How about next week? Photographer has openings a week from Sunday." 

"Can't do it." Naruto nearly clipped off the end of Shikamaru's sentence in his haste to decline. The idea of a photographer or anyone else recording one of his recent surfing disasters filled him with white hot embarrassment. He glanced at his fine form in the oversize photo above Shikamaru's desk. He was a lifetime away from the Naruto Uzumaki of two years ago. 

"Naruto, this has to be done." 

"I know." Naruto eyed Shikamaru, who didn't blink as he crossed his arms across his chest. 

"Fine." Shikamaru sighed, frustrated. "You're going to have to talk to me sometime about what's going on with you." 

"Nothing's going on with me." Nothing that can be fixed by talking about it. Naruto stood, and even in that brief motion, he felt the loosening creak of his right knee. He didn't care what the orthopedic surgeon said — those tendons and bone just hadn't healed right. He nearly stumbled a little but righted himself in time. "Is that all, Shikamaru?" 

"Need your signature on this," Shikamaru said, sliding contracts his way. "Just a renewal for the Mountain Dew endorsement. Oh, and Ino Yamanaka wants to talk to you. Says she needs to get your approval on the new fall line." 

Naruto bent down and signed his name with a flourish, all the while wondering how fast Mountain Dew would have dropped him if they'd seen him surf this week. Naruto turned to go. 

"One more thing, Naruto. Somebody from Time magazine keeps calling. They're doing an anniversary piece on the tsunami, you know, 'The Big Island a Year Later’, and wanted to interview you for it." 

"No," Naruto said. He had woken up more than once drenched in cold sweat, tormented by nightmares that featured reporters bombarding him with questions about his surfing, the state of his knee, and every detail of his recovery. He knew that no matter how an interview began, it would inevitably circle back to these painful topics. But it wasn't just the physical injury that made him hesitant. The thought of discussing the tsunami unsettled him; it was a day marked by tragedy, one when people he cared about lost their lives. The memories weighed heavily on him, making it impossible to even consider speaking about it publicly. 

"But it would be good for your brand. You know no publicity is..." 

"I said no." 

"Okay, okay!" Shikamaru's hands went up in a gesture of surrender. "I know you don't like to do interviews about the tsunami, but at some point, you're going to have to talk about it." 

"People died that day. I just got my leg broken. So what?" Might as well have died, though. 

Self-pity began to creep in again, stubbornly refusing to leave. Naruto tried to shoo the thoughts out of his head, but they clung to him, sticky and persistent. No matter how hard he pushed them away, some gunky residue always remained behind, making it impossible to forget the pain and guilt he still carried. 

"You're famous. You're a hero. You can inspire people." 

At this, Naruto barked a caustic laugh. "I'm no hero." The truth was, last night he had been so intoxicated that the details of what happened between him and the two tourists were hazy at best. Most weekends blurred together; he would wake up beside someone new—sometimes a woman, sometimes a man—never quite sure how he had ended up there. The constant cycle left him feeling disoriented, as though he was perpetually adrift, unsure if he was coming or going. In his own eyes, he was as far from being a hero as one could possibly be. 

"Course you are. There's that little boy you saved." 

"I didn't save him. We were both just lucky."  

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Fine. Then what about all those amateur surfers at Ma No Umi? How many did you pull out of the rocks?" Shikamaru stared at him. Naruto shrugged. "Two? Four? More than that?" 

"They had no business being out there in the first place," Naruto said. "I only saved them so I could chew them out and tell them to find another hobby. Doesn't make me heroic." 

"It doesn't matter. It only matters if people think you are." There was the Shikamaru Naruto remembered, the one always looking for the angle. It was this side of the business, the marketing whatever sells, that just rubbed Naruto the wrong way. 

"Why not make that the next shirt slogan?" Naruto said, a bit of bitterness creeping into his voice. 

Shikamaru laughed. "We should, bro. We totally should." He leaned forward, his antique wooden desk chair creaking. "By the way, that gossip columnist called again for a quote or confirmation. Said something about you and some wild escapade with two tourists. They have a picture. Looks like you." 

Naruto's stomach lurched. He didn't want to know what picture they could've gotten a hold of. 

Shikamaru tapped his tablet and then handed it to Naruto. 

There he was, sitting in his hot tub with the two women he'd just dropped off at the airport. They were both topless, but the picture was pixelated. 

One of the women was kissing his face and the other was taking a selfie. Naruto groaned. If his aunt Tsunade saw this, he'd be in for another lecture. 

"Yeah, that's me, but it's not as bad as it looks."  

Shikamaru threw his head back and laughed. "Bad? Man, I'd kill to be you for one weekend." The wedding ring flashed on Shikamaru's hand as he took the signed contracts from his desk and tucked them into a file. 

"It's not as fun as you think it would be," Naruto said, remembering the awkward goodbyes that afternoon after he dropped the tourists at the airport. They hadn't even gotten out of sight before they'd started posting to Instagram, clearly. 

"As long as you can train and do this. You sure you can?" 

"Yeah, of course." Such a lie. 

~~00~~ 

Seeing Kiba again had made Naruto itch to get out on the surf. He had something to prove. In the surf just beyond his beach house the next day, he started paddling. The wind was low, the waves gentle. It would be an ideal time to try to test his knee. 

Naruto paddled hard against the sparkling Pacific surf as he spied the perfect wave rolling in. He redoubled his efforts, sea spray hitting his face as the early morning light glinted off the tip of his prototype surfboard. Shikamaru would be happy to see him on it, at least. Kahaluu Beach stretched out behind him, and the crystal blue water was clear and relatively calm, the waves easy for even a beginner to handle. A few tourists were out, trying out their rental boards for the first time. 

Naruto still thought his board looked too new and flashy. If he'd been on one of the serious breaks, the locals would've ribbed him for it, and they'd have been right. Neon colors and cool graphics didn't make you a skilled surfer. Sweat and blood did. 

Maybe he'd forgotten that. He admitted loving the spotlight, the interviews on ESPN, the legions of followers online. Who wouldn't enjoy dating the models and actresses who gravitated toward his rising star? He hadn't turned them away. He'd passed the millions mark before he turned thirty. 

Since then, it had just been about building his empire of shirts, boards and even waterproof video cameras small enough to fit in your palm. 

Of course, that was all before the tsunami. 

Ocean spray hit his forehead and he shook his head to clear his eyes so he could focus on the wave. He couldn't dwell on the past. Surfing was all about living in the moment. 

He flexed his knee. It felt strong. Stronger than it had in weeks. Good. He was going to crush it today. 

Is that why you're hiding out on a tourist beach? 

Is that why you're riding these beginner waves, barely six feet? You used to say anything below twenty wasn't worth your time. 

A tingle of nerves pricked his stomach as he tried to shake off the uncertainty. 

He was the three time reigning big wave champion. He'd survived some of the most dangerous breaks in the world. He'd surfed waves taller than an eight story building. 

That was before the ocean shredded your leg and left you for dead. 

Naruto shut his eyes against the memory. 

Now was not the time for doubt. He knew it, and yet he couldn't shake the ghosts of uncertainty. He might never be good again, and he damn well knew it. 

But now he was out of time. The wave was here. 

He faced a crucial decision: try to catch the wave before him, or wait for another. Determined, he pushed aside the doubts clouding his mind, focusing solely on the muscle memory honed over years of surfing. As the wave rolled in, he sprang up onto his board, feeling the warm sun against his back and the cool air whipping across his chest. For a fleeting, brilliant moment, he believed he was going to succeed. Adrenaline surged through him as he fought for a solid foothold, scanning his surroundings in a quick glance. Nothing compared to the beauty of this experience: the glittering ocean stretching beneath his board, the distant shoreline adorned with palm trees swaying like hula dancers in the tropical breeze. Surfing had always been his one true passion; the rush of wind in his hair and the spray of the ocean on his face was a feeling he craved, as essential to him as a fix to a junkie. 

He was going to do it. He was upright, arms out for balance, both feet on the board. 

And then, as the wave gathered momentum, its relentless power tested Naruto in ways he hadn't expected. It challenged him fiercely—too fiercely—throwing him off balance with a force that felt almost personal, as though the water itself was determined to see him fail. In that unforgiving moment, it was as if the ocean sensed the very doubts Naruto had tried so hard to hide. He could no longer ignore the truth gnawing at him: he was not the world-class surfer he once claimed to be. Instead, he felt exposed, nothing more than the hollow shell of an imposter, a has-been struggling to reclaim a glory that might never return. 

He adjusted, trying to find his balance, but out of the blue, a sharp pain shot up his knee. 

No. 

He struggled to keep upright, but his knee buckled like a rusty hinge collapsing under the strain, and he fell backward into the surf, and suddenly, the moment of bliss was replaced by a moment of panic. The wave held him down, punishing him, as his leg flailed, ankle still attached to his board. 

The shiny neon board slid onward, dragging him beneath it under a dangerous weight of water. 

And once more, the fear suffocated him: he was back in the tsunami wave, powerless against the angry force of nature. He again felt the paralyzing terror: I'm going to die. 

Panic, cold and hard, drove down his spine. 

He struggled wildly to breach the surface, but tangled in the force of the wave, he felt helpless, as the expensive, shining new fiberglass board broke free of his ankle tether and shot across the wave. 

The water is going to kill me. The thing I love most in the world is going to kill me. 

He floundered, and then the wave released him, breaking across the reef, and he came up, gasping, sucking in big gulps of air. 

Alive, I'm alive.  

And then he realized he wasn't back in the tsunami. The huge wave that had killed so many people and destroyed so many homes was long gone. Yet the wave, being under, had brought him right back to the worst day of his life. 

The disappointment welled up inside Naruto, overwhelming him as he knelt in the hot, damp sand. Months of gruelling rehabilitation had passed, yet his knee still failed to meet the demands of serious surfing. The reality of his slow recovery gnawed at him, making the prospect of returning to the sport he loved seem impossibly distant. Hot tears of frustration threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes, but he stubbornly held them back, refusing to show weakness. He was on all fours, the sand clinging to his hands and knees, and though he felt an urge to lash out and punch the ground in anger, he restrained himself. The struggle was not only physical but deeply emotional—his determination battling the grief of setbacks and the painful uncertainty of his future as a surfer. 

It wasn't just his body that had disappointed him but his mind. He was afraid in a way he'd never been before. His whole life he'd been fearless, and now a simple dump off the board and he felt as though the ocean would kill him. He didn't want to go back out there. Wouldn't. Not today. 

Maybe not ever. 

At the heart of it, he was a coward, plain and simple. 

The wave knew it, too. That was why it had bucked him. It was the ocean schooling him for being a fool. He managed to drag himself back to his house, not proud of himself for leaving his broken board to the surf but too shaken to do much of anything else. He vowed to go look for it later, once he'd gotten his breathing under control. He felt as if he was going to have a heart attack, the panic pressing against his chest like a two-ton weight. 

Was he really done with surfing at age thirty three? Was it really all over? 

When he got to his porch, he saw Sakura waiting for him there, sitting on one of his patio chairs, clipboard in her lap, looking pissed. 

Training! He'd forgotten entirely that it was a training day, that Sakura would be working him on weights today. Everything about the tightness in her shoulders told him she was furious. He almost turned around and left, but she'd seen him, and he knew that would just make her angrier. 

Sooner or later, he'd have to take his medicine and later would just be worse. 

He trudged to the open patio, still dripping wet, his hands still shaking from nerves. 

"You're late," she said, and he could feel her glare even through her mirrored sunglasses. 

"Sakura, I am so sorry. I was surfing and lost track of time…”  

“What did I say about being late?” Sakura interrupted him, rising from her seat. Her short strawberry blond hair framed her face, but it was her strong, athletic build that drew everyone’s attention first. Sakura’s reputation as the island’s most sought-after personal trainer was well-earned. Alongside her impressive physique, she had an extensive collection of exercise videos and apps to her name, solidifying her status as a fitness authority. She consistently delivered results, expertly motivating Naruto and knowing precisely how to challenge him to achieve his best. 

Except recently. 

Over the past year, Sakura’s relentless “go for broke” attitude had lost its effectiveness with Naruto. Her insistence on pushing him harder in the gym, demanding extra reps and longer sessions, no longer inspired the determination it once had. Instead, the louder she became, the more he found himself withdrawing, resisting the very training that had propelled him to success in the past. What used to motivate him now felt like pressure, and with each shouted instruction, his desire to participate faded even further. 

But the fact that Sakura wasn't yelling at him now only made him nervous. That she was suddenly so calm made him realise the situation was far worse than he'd thought. She gestured with her hand and her diamond wedding band caught the light and sparkled like fire. Happily married to one of the best tour boat captains on the island, she was off limits. Naruto liked that their relationship had been strictly professional. Sakura was one of the few women in his life who didn't feel complicated. 

"You said I couldn't be late anymore or skip sessions… Or?" Naruto swallowed. "Or you'd quit." Panic rose in his throat. First Kiba had quit on him. Now Sakura, too? 

Everyone's abandoning me because they know I'm finished. 

"Exactly." She ripped off the page on the top of the clipboard. "My official letter of resignation, effective now." 

He glanced at the handwritten note, stunned. 

"Sakura, you can't quit! I need you. I..." She'd been with him for almost all of his surfing career. 

As his star had risen, so had hers. They made a nearly unstoppable team. He'd never worked with anyone else before and hadn't even considered the possibility. 

Sakura raised her chin, determined. He knew that look, and it was the one where she usually told him he needed to run five more miles and do an extra round of strength training. 

"I can quit and I am. I told you to cut out the partying and staying out late. You didn't. I told you to eat right. You didn't. I told you to show up at training sessions, and you haven't. It's not me who's quitting. It's you." 

Naruto knew she was right. "But I pay you anyway," Naruto pointed out. "And I can pay you more. Name your price." 

"It's not about the money," Sakura said, her expression softening with genuine concern. She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Naruto, I care about the work I do, and right now, this isn't working. It’s more than just the missed sessions or not following the plan—I can see you're really hurting. You’re going through a lot, and as much as I want to help, I don't think I'm the one who can get you through this. You need to find that spark on your own. Maybe my leaving will be the wake-up call you need to figure out what’s really going on. I truly wish I could do more, but I can't help you until you’re ready to help yourself." 

"Sakura, give me one more chance. I promise, I—" 

"You promised last week. No, it's done. I'm done. I'm sorry, Naruto." 

"But the surfing competition is in a matter of months! Who am I going to find on this kind of short notice?" 

"Maybe some of your friends can help you?" 

Sakura held up her smartphone and showed him the picture of him drinking in the hot tub. That damn picture was going to be the death of him. He suddenly wished for a massive internet malfunction, or at least just some strange outage that affected only social media sites. 

"That's not as bad as it looks," That was the second time in as many days that he'd said that, but it didn't make it true. "Look, I know I'm a mess, but..." 

"I can't do anything for you, Naruto. You've got to change that." 

Now she sounded like Sasuke. 

"Sakura, please…” 

"Nuh uh. Naruto. That's strike three, and I told you, after strike three, you're out. I don't mess around."  

There'd be no changing her mind. Naruto was officially screwed, and not in the way that involved tourists and hot tubs. 

What am I going to do now? 

On his patio, he saw Sasuke's gift bag and next to it, on the tabletop, his card: "Good for One Free Tai Chi Class." He saw a list of scheduled classes on the back, one of which was being held this afternoon. 

It's not like I have anything else going on. 

He went inside to dry off and get dressed. 

Chapter Text

Sasuke was packing up his gym bag, trying very hard not to think about Naruto Uzumaki. For nearly an hour, he had attempted to push Naruto from his mind, but it was no use. Earlier, he had made the mistake of searching for Naruto online and discovered a photo of him making out with at least one of the women he'd seen at his house. That was not the only photo, either—Naruto seemed to make a point of posing with attractive women whenever the opportunity arose. Sasuke didn’t know why he was surprised. 

Naruto was handsome, rich and a bonafide celebrity. 

All Sasuke could think about were the women at Naruto’s place, each of them clearly in the mood for whatever party Naruto was throwing—a party that seemed to have no boundaries. He knew he shouldn't care, but for some reason, the sight bothered him deeply. For the past year, Sasuke had believed Naruto to be brave and selfless, a person whose actions always reflected those qualities. Now, confronted with this new image of Naruto surrounded by women and embracing a lifestyle so different from the one Sasuke had imagined, he found himself wrestling with disappointment and confusion. The conflicting impressions left Sasuke unsettled, making it harder to reconcile the hero he had admired with the man he was seeing now. 

He didn’t like the conflicting images of Naruto he now held in his mind. It was much easier when he just thought of the surfer as a nice guy hero.  

Or maybe that’s just because you’re jealous. Wish you were in the hot tub with him Sasuke? 

"Earth to Sasuke. Come in, Sasuke." This was Hidan Yugakure, the owner of Island Fit and his boss. He used to be an Olympic athlete and had won a silver medal in some track and field event. Now he was the charismatic bodybuilder who inspired people to come to his gym just by standing near the window up front. 

"Sorry, Hidan. I wasn't listening.” 

"I gathered that. I was asking if you could pull a double shift Friday. Konan bailed on me and Nagato’s still on vacation, so that means just me, unless you save me." 

Sasuke hesitated. It would mean paying extra for daycare or calling in a babysitting favour from his brother, which would cost him in a different way. 

Then again, the overtime pay could always come in handy. Akari had outgrown his clothes, again. 

Hidan put his hand on his shoulder and let it linger there. Sasuke stepped out of the touch automatically, putting space between him and his boss. 

Sometimes Sasuke questioned whether Hidan’s behaviour was motivated by genuine interest or if he simply had a naturally touchy, outgoing personality. Regardless of the reason, Sasuke always felt slightly uneasy whenever Hidan entered his personal space, closing the gap a bit too much for comfort. Despite these feelings, Sasuke reminded himself that Hidan provided him with a reliable job and steady income. He frequently tried to convince himself that any imagined intentions on Hidan’s part were just that—imaginings—and nothing more. 

"Hey, if it's a big deal, I mean, don't worry about it..." Hidan worked hard to backpedal. He put his hands up and backed away, and it was times like these Sasuke thought, I'm just imagining that he's coming on to me. 

"Let me see if I can get someone to watch Akari," he said. "If I can, I'll do it." 

"Great." Hidan's eyes lit up in a way that was a little bit too excited.  

Nope. Definitely not imagining it.  

Sasuke definitely did not feel the same way about Hidan. Not that he wasn't a nice guy, but Sasuke wasn't interested in dating or adding complications in his life right now. He'd never yet met a man who was okay with Akari being his first priority. 

"I've, uh, got to head out." Sasuke finished stuffing his bag and zipped it closed, itching to get some distance from Hidan. There were only two hours of daycare left and thirty minutes until his Tai Chi class on the beach. 

"See you Friday," Hidan called as he walked out the door. Sasuke waved, but thankfully, his phone rang, so he could ignore Hidan's intense stare. 

He glanced down at the screen and saw the number of Akari's daycare. Instantly, his heart slid into his throat. What has happened now? Every time he saw Day Care on his caller ID, he felt as if he were right back to that moment a year ago when he had been told by a crying teacher that somehow they'd lost Akari. 

He took a deep breath, shoring himself up for bad news, and answered. "Hello?" 

"Mr. Uchiha," said a crisp voice on the other end of the line. It was the director of the daycare. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I'm afraid you're going to have to pick up your son." 

"Is he sick?" Sasuke's heart thudded. Sick, or worse, hurt? He always played rough on the playground, swinging his little body dangerously off the monkey bars. Sasuke fumbled in his bag for his car keys. They jangled in his hand as he searched for the right one. His car was so ancient it didn't have automatic locks. 

"No, no. He's fine. I'm afraid he's..." Sasuke heard the unmistakable sound of a swallow, "...bitten his teacher." 

Sasuke froze, car key in the door. 

"Oh, no." Sasuke's stomach lurched. "Not again." White hot embarrassment flared up his neck. 

He'd talked with Akari often about biting, but nothing seemed to get through. Last week he'd bitten a boy who'd taken his crayon, and the week before, he'd bitten a girl who'd spilled water on him, and now this. He'd thought it was just a phase, something he'd grow out of, but now he was starting to wonder if it was related to the nightmares and the stress and everything else left over from the tsunami. "I am so very sorry. Is the teacher okay?" 

"Just bruised, but I'm afraid you'll have to come get Akari. And we'll need to talk." 

Sasuke didn't like the sound of that. He'd already been warned twice before: third bite and he's out. He swung himself into the front seat and flew to the daycare, nearly running a red light, he felt so flustered. 

Minutes later, he was sitting in the director’s tidy office, with the single computer on the desk and the row of children's artwork pinned to a clothesline running the length of the window. Akari was still in his daycare room, playing with big foam blocks, building some kind of castle.  

"Mr. Uchiha, we've been very understanding about all the trauma Akari has suffered in the last year, and we understand it's a process. Many of our children have been affected by that horrible day, but I'm afraid we haven't seen much progress with Akari. And, as I don't need to remind you, this is the third incident in the month, and we have certain policies at Pacific Day Care." 

Sasuke's throat went dry. "I've been working with him. We've been reading the book you lent us, Teeth Are Not for Biting." 

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid, beginning tomorrow, you're going to have to find new care for Akari."  

It was one of the worst things a working single parent could hear. "But the other daycare centers are all full. Before we settled here, we were even on a wait list!" It was true. The tsunami had wiped out so many businesses on the west side of the island, and while some were still rebuilding, like their old daycare, others had decided not to rebuild at all. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Uchiha, We've done what we can, but we have to think of the other children." A soft knock came at the door. 

"Come in," the director called, and the door creaked open as Akari's teacher led him in. Just four, yet he seemed to know he was in trouble and he came sheepishly to Sasuke's side, dark haired head hung in shame. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Uchiha," the director said in a tone that didn't sound very much as if she were sorry. 

Sasuke stood, realizing it was pointless to stay. 

"Thank you." He took his son firmly by the hand and led him out. Once outside the school, he turned and kneeled by Akari on the sidewalk. "How many times have we talked about biting? Teeth are not for biting."  

Akari shrugged, eyes down, kicking his small Spider Man tennis shoe into the ground. He was wearing his favorite Spider Man T-shirt, faded from too many washings and already beginning to be too short at the waist. But Akari wouldn't hear of parting with it. He'd wear it every day if Sasuke had let him. 

"Why did you bite the teacher?" 

"She's mean," Akari said, crossing his arms. 

"Akari, I'm sure she's not mean." 

"She was going to throw me in the pool. I told her, I don't want to!" Akari shrugged again. 

Sasuke sighed and dropped his head in defeat. The daycare had a small pool in the back where they taught kids how to swim. Akari hadn't wanted to go near any water since the tsunami, not that Sasuke blamed him. It wasn't surprising he'd lashed out at a teacher trying to push him in. 

"Why didn't the teacher let you sit on the edge? Just put your feet in?" Anger boiled in Sasuke's chest. What were those teachers doing to his son? 

"She said I'd done that enough." Akari shrugged. 

"She said I needed to join the class. So she picked me up and took me to the diving board and was gonna throw me. So I..." Akari hung his head, not finishing. Sasuke could fill in the rest. 

"They should not have done that. They were wrong." Of course, the director hadn't mentioned that in the exit interview. 

Sasuke wanted to march back into the daycare and ask them what they were doing trying to force a boy petrified of the water into the deep end of a pool. Akari wouldn't even take a bath. And they were trying to get him to swim in nine feet of water? 

At the same time, he knew it wouldn't make any difference, and besides, Akari shouldn't have bitten anyone. 

He felt frustration well up in him as he stared into the face of his beautiful baby boy. He wished he could fix him. Before the tsunami, he'd been the first kid in the water and the last out. Now he wondered if he'd ever swim again. 

"Am I in trouble now? Big trouble?" Akari asked, his dark eyes sad. 

"We don't bite, Akari," he said sternly. "Ever." Akari nodded, his eyes growing wide, his bottom lip quivering just a little bit. Sasuke hated to see him like that, especially when he knew it wasn't all his fault. But he couldn't not punish him, either. 

So while he wanted to hug him and tell him it would all be okay, the ghost of his tiger mom in his head told him, Two wrongs don't make a right. 

"No TV today," he added. 

"But!" he protested. 

"I mean it." Even if his son wasn't completely in the wrong, he still had to lay down the law. 

Yet as Sasuke watched Akari's small shoulders slump in resignation, a wave of uncertainty washed over him. Was he truly making the right choice as a parent? He questioned whether he should have stood his ground so firmly, or if perhaps, in this circumstance, he should have reassured Akari that biting—even in defence against someone trying to throw him into the deep end of the pool—was not the answer, but also not entirely without reason. Doubt crept in, and Sasuke found himself second-guessing his actions, just as he had so often in the tumultuous year since the tsunami. The constant worry of whether he was doing right by his son lingered, unresolved and heavy on his shoulders. 

Akari may have gotten kicked out of day care, but why did he feel like the one who was failing? 

Sasuke glanced at his watch. 

"My Tai Chi class!" he exclaimed, realizing that he had just a few minutes to get there and no time to find a sitter. "You're coming to daddy’s class." After a hectic drive, Sasuke managed to pull into a spot not too far from the beach. He grabbed his bag and took Akari's hand, guiding him down the sand strewn path next to the parking lot, which led to the swaying palm trees and sparkling blue ocean. Already, most of the class had gathered and he hated that he was late. It was unprofessional and unlike him. 

"Come on, Akari. We've got to hurry." This day just felt as if it had taken on a life of its own and was quickly spiraling out of his grasp. 

As Sasuke hurried through the parking lot, still frazzled from the events at the daycare and anxious about being late for his Tai Chi class, a deep rumbling voice behind him stopped him in his tracks. Turning around, he saw Naruto Uzumaki approaching, his presence unmistakable. Naruto's blond hair and tanned face stood out against the sunlight, and his wide, genuine smile revealed perfectly white teeth. For once, Naruto was wearing a shirt, but the effect of his charisma and magnetic energy was undiminished. 

Sasuke felt his heart leap in surprise and embarrassment, suddenly aware of his own windblown hair and the dishevelled state he was in. He was late, harried, and far from his usual composed self. The question lingered in his mind: what was Naruto doing here, at this moment, following him across the parking lot? 

Chapter Text

Naruto reached out to help Sasuke with his bag, but Sasuke's guarded expression made it clear he was unwilling to accept the gesture. Standing there, Sasuke appeared uncertain as he clutched Akari's hand, leaving Naruto to wonder if Sasuke was truly pleased to see him. The coolness of Sasuke's welcome was unfamiliar territory for Naruto, who was used to warmer receptions. Despite this, Akari's reaction was quite the opposite—his enthusiasm and excitement upon seeing Naruto provided an uplifting contrast to Sasuke's hesitance. 

"Naruto!" the little boy cried, his voice pure joy as he whipped his tiny hand free of his father's grasp and ran to him. Surprised that the boy even remembered him after all these months, he grinned. 

The boy charged straight to Naruto, arms wide. Akari's enthusiasm was infectious as Naruto instinctively picked him up and swung him in the air, causing him to squeal in delight. 

"Good to see you, Akari!" Naruto said and meant it. Seeing him happy and healthy meant something. 

As Naruto watched Akari’s exuberance, he was reminded of how fragile and valuable life truly is. The boy’s infectious happiness made Naruto realize that, in this moment, surfing and other worries seemed insignificant. He questioned himself—why had he distanced himself from Akari for so long? Seeing the pure delight on Akari’s face brought a warmth to Naruto’s heart, lifting his spirits in a way he hadn’t felt for months. 

Noticing Sasuke’s disapproving glance, Naruto carefully set Akari back down. It struck him then just how much Akari had changed in the past year; the child had shed much of his earlier baby fat, and his hair was trimmed shorter. Despite these changes, the mischievous grin Akari wore as Sasuke whispered something to him was unchanged—still as lively as ever. Akari’s hand gripped a plastic Spider Man figure, and he was outfitted almost entirely in clothing adorned with the superhero, a testament to his evolving personality and interests. 

Thinking back to the tsunami, Naruto remembered Elmo tennis shoes as the boy scrambled up the stairs to the second floor of the daycare building just seconds before the first wave hit. Naruto could hear the loud chest thumping roar of the wave even now, could feel it reverberating in his bones. 

"I have a poster of you in my room!" Akari exclaimed, breathless. "You're like this!" Akari mimicked a surfing pose. 

"A poster, huh?" Naruto glanced over at Sasuke. 

"He saw it at the store and wouldn't let us leave until I promised to get it for his birthday," Sasuke admitted as he juggled the beach bag, a bottle of water and a clipboard. 

"Can I take that?" Naruto again offered to take the bag, but Sasuke resisted, moving his shoulder away. 

"I'm fine," he said, tightly, like one who didn't want help. Sasuke probably didn't like those who opened doors, either. Stubborn and independent, Naruto could tell. 

"Can I… uh, we… help you? I've got a class here..." Sasuke nodded anxiously down at the modest crowd milling about in the shade of palm trees on the beach. 

"That's why I'm here." 

The raven-haired man fixed Naruto with a look of utter disbelief, as though he had suddenly sprouted horns. The intensity of the gaze made Naruto self-conscious, and he fought the urge to check if his hair was sticking up in some odd way. Tilting his head slightly to one side, Sasuke's dark hair fell across his pale shoulder, his onyx eyes locked on Naruto with a mix of confusion and curiosity, as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing. 

"Your free class?" He held up the business card between two fingers and then Sasuke’s face lit up in recognition. It had been on a whim he'd even come, but after Sakura had quit, he'd been at loose ends. The card Sasuke had given him had felt like serendipity. 

Sakura's words still ricocheted around his head. ‘It's not me who's quitting. It's you.’ 

He knew Sakura was right, and yet he didn't know how to snap out of it, or he would. He glanced at the beach, at the people there in loose fitting shorts, waiting for class to start. Part of him hoped Tai Chi would help him. But deep down, he knew Tai Chi wouldn't replace Sakura's grueling training sessions. Tai Chi wasn't the answer, but it was a way to spend the afternoon that didn't involve heading to a tourist bar and seducing another hotel guest, which he thought had to be an improvement. 

Unless it involved seducing a beautiful Tai Chi instructor instead. 

He glanced at Sasuke’s fitted capries and his bare toned calves. Yes, he wouldn't mind that at all. 

"Oh… yes, of course." Sasuke’s demeanor changed. "I didn't expect you today, but you're welcome to stay. Although today might not be the best class. Akari, uh, is usually at daycare, but..." 

"I bit my teacher!" Akari exclaimed, in the blunt honesty of a four year old. 

"You bit your teacher!" Naruto echoed, surprised. "Why?" 

Naruto saw Sasuke wince. 

"She wanted to throw me in the pool!" 

"But I thought you liked to swim," Naruto said, remembering how amazed he had been at the then three year old's advanced dog paddling skills in the flood after the tsunami. The skill saved him. 

The boy's eyes grew wide and he shook his head slowly side to side. Naruto got a feeling then that there was more going on with Akari than his father had let on when he'd dropped by his house. The look on his face when he'd mentioned swimming was plain old fear, and Naruto recognized it clearly enough. It was the same way he felt about surfing. 

"Akari, come along now. We've got to start class. If you'd like to join, you're welcome to Mr. Uzumaki." 

Sasuke infused a formalness into his speech and Naruto could almost hear a wall coming up, a protective parent's instincts. The daycare discussion or one about swimming was not one he wanted to have. 

"Call me Naruto," he said, flashing his best smile. 

"Yeah, dad. Call him Naruto!" Akari exclaimed, jumping up and down and clapping. 

"All right," Sasuke acquiesced, but Naruto noticed he didn't actually say his name. Sasuke looked away from him, Naruto saw a blush creeping up his cheek. "Come on, Akari. Let's set you up so you can build sand castles while daddy does his class. I need a good helper." 

Akari nodded solemnly in a way that showed he was taking this as seriously as a little kid could. 

He trailed after his dad as the three of them joined the rest of the class on the beach under the shade of some large palm trees. Sasuke waved to some of the people waiting as he bustled Akari over to an outcropping of lava rocks at the edge of the shade, plopping him down on a towel with a bucket and shovel about thirty feet from the ocean. Naruto tried to imagine this sweet boy as a wild child who would bite his teacher at daycare. 

He just couldn't see it. 

A man waiting for the lesson to begin sighed loudly near him. 

"He brought a kid?" the fifty something man groaned, disapproving. "I didn't pay for a toddler class." Naruto eyed the man with the silver hair in the black T-shirt and frowned. The judgment rolling off him was palpable, and Naruto wanted to tell him to give Sasuke a break. What was he supposed to do? Leave Akari in the car to die of heatstroke? 

Naruto felt defensive of single parents. After all, he'd been raised by one, his aunt, who'd done it all by herself. He knew how hard a job it was, and he also knew that this man had no idea at all the sacrifices Sasuke likely made. 

Sasuke was too far away to hear and Naruto was grateful. He hoped the guy kept the rest of his complaints to himself. Sasuke and Akari didn't need his grousing. Naruto took up a position beside him on the far side of the class as the dozen or so people fell into a loose grid in front of Sasuke. Naruto had always thought that Tai Chi was only for older people, but the class included a wide variety of ages, and surprisingly, most of them were men. 

Sasuke unzipped his windbreaker and was now in a tank and yoga pants. Naruto couldn't help but notice the tight fit of black down marble skinned muscled legs, and instantly, his thoughts went to what it might feel like to run his hand up them.  

Sasuke kicked off his shoes, letting his toes settle in the sand. “I am so sorry we’re getting a little bit of a late start,” Sasuke said. “I had… uh babysitting trouble today, so I really appreciate your patience.” 

Most of the class seemed fine, but the grumpy man in the black T-shirt let out a disgruntled sigh. Naruto glared at him. "Kids," the man said to Naruto with an eye roll as if Naruto were in on the complaint. 

Naruto was about to say something, but Sasuke started the class and he didn't want to be caught talking. 

Sasuke led them in a warmup. He was delicate and graceful. Naruto noticed that the disgruntled man kept staring at Sasuke's body. That observation made Naruto like him even less. After completing a series of stretches, Sasuke began the Tai Chi. 

"We'll start with the motion Hands on the Table," he said, putting his hands palm down in the air in front of him. "And then we'll Calm the Water." Sasuke stepped out on his front foot, shifting his weight and pushing his hands, still palm down, outward. Naruto and the other students did the same. They went through the same motion on the other side.  

None of the moves were strenuous, and yet, doing them, Naruto did feel a bit of a calm seep into the slow rhythm. Naruto tried to keep his eye on Sasuke as they went through several more movements, including Moving the Water and Over the Drum. About fifteen minutes into the class, he saw that Akari had abandoned his bucket and shovel and was mimicking every move his father made, almost as if he wanted to do the class himself. The end result was an adorable, awkward preschooler's version of Tai Chi. In his little Spider Man shirt, he was pretty darn cute. 

A snicker or two went up from the class. The three women in the class, in particular, smiled warmly at the boy. Sasuke glanced anxiously over at Akari, but seeing that he was really doing no harm trying the moves, he let it go. The grumbling man next to Naruto, however, didn't like it. 

"Can't concentrate with that kid interrupting," he groused. Naruto was pretty sure what he meant was he couldn't concentrate on Sasuke’s ass with the kid nearby.  

Naruto shushed him, annoyed. 

The man frowned in return but fell silent. 

"We'll now move on to Ball in the Mountain. Move those arms," Sasuke said. "Feel it building your Chi. This is a great exercise for making a stronger mind." 

Akari mimicked the same move, stretching his hands in a circular motion forward, but he overexaggerated it and toppled over, like a puppy with oversized paws. Akari, fine, bounced back up grinning, ready to start again. 

"Honestly, if you can't control your kid..." the grumpy man said, very loudly this time as he shook his head in disapproval. He seemed to miss the fact that no one else in the class appeared to agree with him. A few shot him dirty looks. "I can't focus on these moves with him bouncing around like an idiot. Someone needs to teach that kid to be still!" 

Naruto wanted to teach the man how to be still and quiet. Sasuke heard his remarks, and his face turned beet red. He sent a worried glance at Akari, but honestly, the boy wasn't doing any harm. The man was overreacting. 

Sasuke transitioned the class into another pose, and this time Akari decided to do his own headstand and rolled over in the sand 

The irritated man bellowed, "if nobody is going to tell that kid to sit down, I'll do it." Sasuke's head popped up in alarm. He was already on the move to intercept the angry man from getting to Akari, but Naruto was there first. He put a hand on the man's chest. 

"Hey, the kid's not hurting anybody," Naruto said, stopping the man's progress cold. Sasuke, who'd hurried to Akari's side, stood still, a protective arm around his son. 

"He's a distraction," the man growled, dark eyes flashing. 

"You're a distraction," Naruto corrected. "Why don't you quiet down?" 

Murmurs and agreeing nods swept the class. 

They were the focus of attention now, and Naruto could feel everyone's gaze on them, even as some tried to continue the motions. Sasuke just stared, speechless. 

The man, clearly not used to being called on his grumbling, glared at Naruto. "I'm not going to be quiet. I'm going to get the fucking class I paid for, a class without kids." 

A few gasps went up from the class at the language. 

Sasuke rushed, too late, to cover Akari's little ears. 

"Either quiet down or leave." Naruto wasn't going to back down. He wasn't the kind of man who went looking for a fight, but he'd been pushed into plenty of corners by surfers defending turf on various beaches all over the world. Bullies were the same, no matter their age or nationality: you either stood up to them, or you let them walk over you. 

And Naruto had never backed down from a bully, not once in his life. 

“I'm not going to have my afternoon ruined by some stupid fuckin' kid!" he roared, pointing at the little boy, whose bottom lip quivered as his eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. 

"Hey!" Sasuke's voice cut through the commotion, steely and unwavering. His eyes flashed with determination as he confronted the angry man, leaving no doubt about his resolve. "You do not talk about my son that way," Sasuke declared, his tone fierce and protective. Despite his smaller build, he approached the man without hesitation, radiating the energy of a protective parent. "And watch your language!" he added, firmly asserting his role as Akari's defender and making it clear that disrespect would not be tolerated. 

In that instant, the man's aggression faded, subdued by the unmistakable authority in Sasuke’s voice. Sasuke’s words carried a weight that made it clear he was not to be trifled with, and Naruto couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. Sasuke was, in every sense of the word, a firecracker—full of resolve and energy. Naruto had initially assumed Sasuke would need his help to deal with the confrontation, but it became apparent that the raven-haired teacher was more than capable of handling the situation on his own. There was strength behind Sasuke’s porcelain appearance, and Naruto recognized it with a newfound respect. 

"You have two choices, Mr. Hiram. You can stay in this class and behave. Or you can leave." 

"I-I..." Mr. Hiram sputtered, temporarily taken aback by Sasuke. "But that stupid kid!" 

"You've made your choice. Time for you to go," Sasuke said, and Naruto tightened his grip on the man. 

"You can't kick me out. I paid for this class!" the man sputtered. 

Naruto dug his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. He tucked the money in the man's shirt pocket. 

"Consider it refunded." 

"But..." If he was hoping for a reprieve from Sasuke, he wouldn't get one. 

Sasuke just pointed his finger to the parking lot and gave Mr. Hiram a look that could probably make one combust. "Let's go." Naruto swept his hands forward. 

Mr. Hiram looked as though he was going to dig in his heels. 

"Stupid little fag," he muttered under his breath. 

"What did you say?"  

Sasuke was livid now. So was Naruto. Sasuke stepped over, as if he planned to do something about it, but Naruto wasn't going to let that happen. He was filled with a protective kind of fury. "That's it." Naruto grabbed the man's arm and with one quick move twisted it up behind his back. 

"Ow," the man cried. Naruto steadily marched the man, arm still behind his back, up the beach and to the parking lot. Once near the asphalt, Naruto stopped. "You can go home either with or without a broken arm." He twisted the man's arm harder and the man squealed. "Which one is it going to be?" 

"Without," he ground out. 

Naruto released him with a shove, and the man stumbled into the parking lot, holding his arm. Eyes full of fear, he glanced back at Naruto. He scampered to his car, a rental, and got in. Naruto watched while he backed up and drove away. 

The class broke out in spontaneous applause as Naruto made his way back to them. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who felt that the man needed to be shown out. Sasuke, his arm around a now grinning Akari, nodded once at him. Naruto just shrugged no big deal. And anyway, Sasuke appeared to have had it covered even without his help. He had to admire the raven Tai Chi instructor, who appeared athletically and delicately lithe, but, he realized, there wasn't anything delicate about him. 

"Thank you," Sasuke whispered to him as he squeezed his arm. 

"It's nothing," he said. Akari threw his tiny arms around Naruto's legs, his silent hug saying more than Sasuke ever could. 

"Come on, now, sweetie," Sasuke said, pulling Akari back. "Time we finish the class." Akari went back to his bucket and shovel, happily digging in the sand, and Sasuke moved to the front of the class. 

"Well, I'm sorry for that, everyone," he said, addressing the others. "I guess Mr. Hiram kind of missed the point of using Tai Chi to calm his Chi." A murmur of laughter rippled through the class. 

"Okay, let's start again with Moving the Water," Sasuke said as he swept his arms forward as if pushing air. 

Forty minutes later, after a cool down session, as the class dispersed, gathering their towels and bags and heading back to their cars, Sasuke saw that Naruto had stuck around. He was kneeling next to Akari, helping him add another turret to his sandcastle. 

They had their heads together. Naruto talked softly to the boy, the conversation not carrying over the wind. For a second, he just stood by, watching them. Naruto showed him the trick to getting the wet sand out of the bucket without crumbling the top: three hard taps to the flat side of the bucket before gently lifting. Akari listened and watched carefully and then repeated everything he'd just learned. 

Sasuke marvelled at his son's attention. It was a rare occurrence for Akari to sit still long enough to learn anything from him, as the boy was usually restless and full of energy. Yet, in this moment, Sasuke watched with surprise as Akari absorbed every instruction Naruto offered, listening intently and following each step with care. The boy's eagerness to learn from Naruto stood in contrast to his usual impatience, making Sasuke appreciate the significance of the scene unfolding before him. 

Maybe Akari could use another adult in his life, someone else to help him learn about the world. 

Someone other than his father or uncle. Yet as soon as the thought entered his mind, defensively, he pushed it out. 

No, they were just fine on their own. He and Akari against the world. Always had been. Always would be. 

Naruto wasn't someone you could depend on, he reasoned. Sasuke remembered the two tourists at his house and the empty alcohol bottles on his floor. He might have done us a favour today, but Naruto's not the mentoring type. He shook his head. Why would he think that anyhow? 

Naruto was straight. 

"Hey, Akari, time to pack up," he said, interrupting the scene. 

"Aw, dad." Akari looked up, disappointed. "Do I have to?" 

"Yes, young man. You know the rule." He prayed he wouldn't test him on it. Not today. Not in front of Naruto. 

"When you say it's time to go, it's time to go." Akari hung his head in defeat and shuffled his feet in the sand. 

"Sandals on. Go on." Akari reluctantly went to fetch his sandals, which he'd flung off earlier near a palm tree. 

"He's a good kid," Naruto said as the two watched Akari sit in the sand and put his shoes on. 

"Yeah, he is." Sasuke knew that in his heart to be true. The biting just wasn't him at all. He really was a sweet kid, and he minded rules so well, most of the time. "Listen, thanks for what you did. With Mr. Hiram. I don't know what made him go off like that..." 

"Who knows? But it wasn't anything. Bullies are the same wherever they are."  

Naruto smiled, and the air between them suddenly grew tense and heavy, charged with a subtle energy. Sasuke became keenly aware of Naruto’s presence, noticing the way the blond’s hair was tousled by the breeze coming in from the sea. Naruto’s deep blue eyes held a warmth that felt familiar to Sasuke, almost as if it were a comforting place he had visited before. 

When Naruto flashed a dazzling smile, Sasuke felt his heart shift ever so slightly. The effect of that smile was undeniable; Sasuke found himself enjoying it—perhaps even a bit too much for his own comfort. 

Naruto cleared his throat, his tone revealing genuine surprise. "Your class was… really good."  

Though Sasuke noticed the surprise in Naruto's voice, he made a conscious effort not to take it to heart. He understood that many people held misconceptions about Tai Chi; it was often underestimated, with few truly appreciating how relaxing it could be when one fully committed to the practice. Sasuke reflected that Tai Chi could offer the same centering and calming effects as yoga, but without requiring the participant to perform challenging contortions. The experience, he believed, was accessible and grounding, inviting participants to find balance and peace within themselves. 

Naruto hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Listen, this may sound crazy, but I recently lost my personal trainer." He glanced at Sasuke, searching his expression for any sign of mockery or disbelief. "I looked you up. You've got all kinds of classes at Island Fit." 

He continued, his tone earnest. "I know you know your way around weights and training, because I called the gym and checked up on you." Naruto paused, giving Sasuke a chance to take in the offer. "How much would it take for you to come work for me... full-time?" 

Chapter Text

Sasuke stood frozen to the spot, the enormity of Naruto Uzumaki’s offer settling over him like a heavy blanket. Work for Naruto, full time? The thought sent a jolt through his system. He stared into those warm, crystal blue puppy dog eyes, and for a fleeting moment, he almost blurted out "Yes!" His mouth quivered with anticipation, but his brain intervened just in time, forcing him to press his lips together and hold back his response. 

Careful, his mind cautioned. There's got to be a catch. The voice inside him reminded Sasuke that nothing in his life had ever come easily. Opportunity always required a price, and accepting this one might cost him more than he realised. 

He wrestled with his motives, uncertain if he wanted the job for its own sake—or simply for the chance to be closer to Naruto. Thoughts of Naruto’s smooth, tanned face and those strong, kissable lips lingered, making it impossible to ignore the allure. Sasuke questioned himself: was his desire to work for Naruto rooted in professional ambition, or was it something far more personal? 

Sasuke felt completely out of his element. He wasn’t used to the sensation of being sought after, the idea of someone recruiting him for a job. Every role he had ever taken, every class he had taught, was built from the ground up by his own effort—his own blood, sweat, and tears. Opportunity had never simply appeared; it was something he fought for, something he earned. Now, faced with Naruto Uzumaki’s offer, he was left stunned, his mind scrambling to process the implications as his body responded instinctively to the tantalizing prospect. Working full time for Naruto Uzumaki felt unreal. 

The thought of spending so many hours together, so close to Naruto, sent his heart racing. Just imagining the proximity and the intensity of their interaction made him feel unsettled, but also excited. Sasuke knew he needed to figure things out, to weigh the risks and rewards, before making a decision that could change everything. 

"I used to pay my last trainer six figures to clear her calendar for me. I'll offer the same thing for you." 

Sasuke's knees felt weak. Six figures! He'd never made that kind of money in his life. It would double his salary.  

"But I..." With that, Sasuke realised he could afford a nanny—and much more—if he accepted Naruto’s offer. The thought made his head spin. He hesitated, unsure and overwhelmed. It wasn’t just the promise of money that clouded his judgement; it was also Naruto, standing so close that Sasuke could hardly concentrate. The hem of Naruto’s thin T-shirt fluttered in the beach breeze, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his flat, tanned stomach and the muscled V just below his abs. Sasuke blinked, fighting to regain his senses and clarity, as the intensity of the moment threatened to sweep him away. 

To accept Naruto Uzumaki’s offer, Sasuke would have to make a drastic change—quitting all his current jobs at Island Fit and giving up his private classes. This decision weighed heavily on him, as it meant he would be putting all his trust in Naruto. The prospect of relying completely on the surfer, who could hire or fire him at any moment, was unsettling. Sasuke recalled the uncertainty and tension he had felt at Naruto’s house, questioning whether he could even train someone as unpredictable as Naruto. The thought of losing his independence, risking everything for a single job and person, made Sasuke uneasy. If Naruto ever became angry or dissatisfied, Sasuke could be left without work and without options. The idea of depending on someone else for everything went against his instincts and long-standing self-reliance. 

"Akari doesn't have daycare. And I wouldn't have time to find a nanny..." This would be the deal breaker, he thought. Then he wouldn't even have to think about accepting the job. Akari would be his out. 

"I know." Naruto shrugged, indifferent. 

"You know?" 

“While we were making sandcastles, Akari mentioned he can't return because of the biting incident. Still, I have someone who could watch over him during our training—my aunt. She's wonderful with children; she brought me up like a mother, and I'm sure she'd be glad to look after Akari. I'd need to check with her, but I think she'll agree. He could stay at the house while we're training, so you wouldn't be far from him.” 

Sasuke felt dizzy with possibilities. It seemed like a dream job in so many ways, except one: he really didn't know if he could do it. Could he whip Naruto into shape? 

"I don't know…” 

Naruto grabbed his hand. Electricity shot up his wrist. He glanced at the tanned strong hand on his. 

"Don't say no. Just think about it, okay? Take two days.'" 

Sasuke wanted to say no. So much about it seemed perfect, which was why a small part of him screamed, it's too good to be true! 

And yet Sasuke found himself nodding. 

"Okay, I'll think about it." 

~~00~~ 

"What’s to think about?" Sasuke's brother, Itachi, said, as he picked up his own toddler daughter and held her on one hip. "He's offering daycare and more money than you've ever made. And you've had a crush on him for a year." 

"I have not." Sasuke crossed his arms and leaned back against his older brother's kitchen counter in the small house near Hilo, about an hour away from Sasuke's apartment. "He saved Akari's life. I've just been trying to figure out how to pay him back.'" 

"Take the job, then," his brother said, shrugging as he stirred chicken stir fry in an oversize wok on the stove. Itachi took a sip of his iced tea. "What? Afraid you'll fall into bed with him before the first week is up?" 

"Nii-san!" Sasuke instinctively glanced at Akari, worried he'd overheard, but he was out of earshot, busy playing awful music on his cousin's baby electronic keyboard, shaped like a smiling Cheshire cat, with the ivories as teeth. He was singing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" and pounding ruthlessly on the keys. His cousin, two year old Hana, squirmed to be let down, and so Itachi put her on the ground. She tottered around "helping" by dancing and shrieking in delight. 

"Oh, come on. He can't hear us, and even if he did, he'd have no idea what we're talking about." Itachi tossed an oven mitt on the countertop. "Your problem is you've been in mommy mode far too long. You need to think about your whole self. You're a man with needs too, not just a parent." 

"I'll have plenty of time to think of that later." Sasuke shook his head. "Like when Akari is eighteen."  

Itachi sputtered a derisive laugh. "You'll be shriveled up and wrinkled out by then." 

"Nii-san!" Sasuke slapped his brother's arm. 

Itachi moved briskly across the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to gather ingredients for a salad. He handed Sasuke a head of lettuce, several ripe tomatoes, and a handful of carrots. Without needing to exchange words, Sasuke understood that it was his responsibility to wash the vegetables, while Itachi would handle the chopping. This familiar routine unfolded quietly between them, a testament to the unspoken understanding developed over years of shared family meals and chores. 

It was no surprise Itachi worried about how much Sasuke was getting laid. Itachi had always been more into going out and having fun when they were younger. Itachi had been the rebel who butted heads with their tiger mom for years: getting a tattoo, coming home drunk, showing up with a new boyfriend or girlfriend every month. Sasuke had been the picture perfect child with the impeccable grades and dreams of going to med school, and yet, irony of ironies, Sasuke's one drunken mistake ended with him impregnating some random fling at nineteen. And now Itachi was the one who'd gone to college, come out the other side a nurse and had a doting wife, the cozy house, the nice green lawn, while Sasuke had to drop out of college and work odd jobs to support Akari. 

Sasuke still remembered his mother's face when he told her he was a father at nineteen. His mother had reared back and slapped him hard across the face. If he thought about it, the blow still stung. His tiger mom, so angry, so completely rigid about her rules, hadn't even come to see Akari after Sasuke took custody shortly after he was born. Sasuke felt his mother had abandoned him then, and when a sudden heart attack took her six months later, it was more like a formality. 

"You need to stop living like a priest," Itachi said as Sasuke handed him freshly washed pieces of lettuce that he broke off by hand and tossed into a waiting teak bowl. "Akari needs stability and a solid parent. All the research says that boys with one parent are at a disadvantage. You don't want Akari to be a statistic, do you?" 

The more Itachi had settled down into his white picket fence life, the more judgmental he'd gotten, a quality Sasuke liked less and less the older they both got. 

"Akari and I are doing just fine." 

"Is that why he got kicked out of daycare?" 

"Itachi." Sasuke hated when his brother brought up his shortcomings, especially now, since he had so many and Itachi had so few. 

Sasuke still couldn't believe Itachi used to listen to punk rock, wear black lipstick and stay out all night. Now Itachi was a lot like a domineering father. One of these days, if Itachi pushed him too far, Sasuke might just point that out. "Come on. That's not fair." 

"Akari needs more role models in his life." 

"You don't know that." Sasuke exhaled a long, frustrated sigh.  

Sasuke appreciated that his brother meant well, but Itachi simply did not understand the reality of Sasuke’s life as a single parent. Itachi enjoyed the security of a stable marriage and a reliable job, which made it easier for him to scrutinize Sasuke’s choices and offer advice from a place of comfort. Unlike Itachi, Sasuke faced the constant stress of managing household finances and the anxiety of finding last-minute childcare whenever plans fell through. These responsibilities weighed heavily on him, making the prospect of dating feel unrealistic. Without anyone to watch Akari, Sasuke saw little opportunity to pursue a relationship, and even if circumstances allowed, he felt it would be selfish to take time away from his son to chase after something that might ultimately lead to disappointment for both of them. 

"Sasuke, I'm sorry. I just... I just hate to see you unhappy." Itachi paused, wiping his hands on a tea towel. "Naruto Uzumaki is rich, he's handsome and it sounds like he's into you." 

"No." Sasuke shook his head furiously, thinking of yesterday when he had gone to Naruto’s house and the blond didn't even remember him. Not to mention, the man screams straight. 

"That's not why he wants to hire me." 

"It's not?" 

"I think it's for Akari." Sasuke had it all figured out. 

Naruto seemed to like Akari for some reason, like maybe he was one of those rich celebrities who every now and again decided to adopt a stray. 

"Great! He's role model material, then." 

Sasuke felt panic in his throat. A party happy millionaire was not a good role model. 

"No. You don't get it. I don't think he's got it in him to commit to Akari…. or anything. Surfing is his life, extreme surfing at that, and even that's something he puts aside to party. Besides, if I take this job, I'll have to quit my others, and what if he fires me after one month? Then what?" 

"Then you and Akari come live with us. We just finished the guest room." 

"Nii-san...” 

"I mean it. Opportunities like this don't come along any old time, Sasuke. You've got to take them when you can." 

Sasuke sighed as he washed the tomatoes beneath the tap. "Even if I take the job, I'm not sure I can train him. He doesn't want to be trained." 

"Is that what the hesitation is about? You know what mom always said about training people." Itachi began slicing the tomatoes Sasuke had placed on the cutting board. 

Sasuke smiled at the memory of their no nonsense, sugar coat nothing mother. '"In a contest of wills, the laziest one loses.'" 

"See? All you have to do is work harder than he does, which doesn't sound like it would be too difficult. Why don't you channel mom and see if you can't whip that surfer into shape?" 

Sasuke imagined what their mother might do to Naruto if she'd been assigned the job of getting him in shape for a surf competition. She'd crush him in one week flat. 

"You did it before when you worked at Cross Fit two years ago. Didn't they have a name for you there?" Itachi asked. 

"The Terminator," Sasuke said, and laughed a little. He had been a tough trainer then. It had been one of his first classes, and he'd maybe overcompensated for nerves by being extra tough on everyone. But the nickname had stuck until he'd transferred over to Island Fit and discovered Tai Chi, yoga and a more Zen approach to fitness. 

"See? You've already got this in the bag. Plus, I know you have a thing for surfers. What was his name? Menma?" 

Sasuke thought about the year in high school he'd spent following around Menma, the big headed surfer whom he'd had a crush on. Nothing had ever happened. Menma never even knew he existed, really, but Sasuke had learned how to surf. Still, he wasn't anywhere near Naruto's caliber. 

"I don't have a thing for surfers." Sasuke saw Naruto’s inviting blue eyes once more in his mind's eye. 

Or did he? 

"Okay, then, well, you owe Naruto a debt. You know how mom felt about debt." 

Sasuke often reflected on the influence his mother had on his approach to life. She was a woman who paid cash for everything, never once relying on a credit card. Her resourcefulness was legendary: if a neighbour brought her a basket of fruit, she would transform it into a full meal and return the favour the very next day. This unwavering self-sufficiency and commitment to reciprocity shaped Sasuke’s own sense of independence. He recognized that his refusal to rely on others and his determination to repay debts stemmed directly from his mother’s example. Now, faced with Naruto’s request for help, Sasuke understood he could not turn him down. He owed Naruto, and his mother’s values would not let him ignore that debt. 

So why did working for the blond surfer fill him with dread? 

Repaying a debt should have felt straightforward, but for Sasuke, it was anything but. The act of settling what he owed seemed to carry an invisible weight, as if by doing so, he would only be plunging himself deeper into obligation. The core of his anxiety lay not only in owing Naruto, but in the sense that Naruto himself was spiralling—so entrenched in self-destructive patterns that Sasuke feared his efforts might be futile. What would happen if he tried to help and ultimately failed? The possibility gnawed at him, making the prospect of repayment feel less like freedom and more like walking into a trap of uncertainty and helplessness. 

"It's not how I wanted to repay the debt," Sasuke said. "Besides, how is it being repaid if he's paying me to do it?" 

"You want to take the job for free, that's your business, but he's asking you for help. You know you can't turn him down." 

Sasuke knew his brother spoke the truth. Yet, as he thought about the surfer’s devilishly charming smile and the way his blue eyes suggested he knew just how much he got under his skin, Sasuke really wished he could. 

"He told me to think about it for two days." 

“So?" 

“So I'm going to take two days to think about it." 

Chapter Text

Naruto sat outside Island Fit in his open top Jeep, the warm tropical sun beaming down on his thick blond hair. His golden tanned skin didn't need more of a tan, but it was a crime to put the fabric top up and shut out the beautiful Hawaiian weather. 

Two days had passed since the Tai Chi lesson on the beach, when Naruto had offered Sasuke a job. Despite his anticipation, Naruto had not heard a single word from him. He realised that, deep down, he had expected a call from Sasuke that very same day. Sasuke's hesitation to seize the opportunity left Naruto questioning whether his famed charm was beginning to wane. After all, people rarely told him no. In fact, it had been a very long time since anyone had dared to refuse him. 

For years, Naruto had been the recipient of countless enthusiastic yeses. Both women and men had frequently thrown themselves at him, making it easy to forget what it felt like to actually pursue someone. Now, confronted with Sasuke's silence, Naruto experienced the unfamiliar sensation of having to chase after someone who didn't immediately fall under his spell. 

Personally or professionally. 

Not many people on the Big Island possessed the kind of wealth that Naruto did. For years, his combination of charm and financial prowess had been enough to win people over—those who didn’t immediately succumb to his smile would usually capitulate once he revealed the depth of his resources. 

But Sasuke was different. His reaction to Naruto's offer was not what Naruto had come to expect. There was something about Sasuke’s refusal to be swayed, whether by charisma or money, that intrigued Naruto deeply. He found himself compelled to learn more about Sasuke and understand the reasons behind his resistance. 

It had been a while since he'd cared enough about someone to get out of bed before noon. Here it was, eight in the morning, and he was sitting outside the gym, watching Sasuke move about inside. 

He didn't know what it was about him. Maybe the grounded confidence he wore easily, like a second skin? 

He might have stepped in to save Sasuke from that rude client on the beach, but part of him suspected Sasuke would’ve handled it just fine. He’d never met anyone so completely self‑contained, someone who moved through the world with that kind of quiet certainty. He used to be like that, before the tsunami. Back then, he felt unstoppable — like he could take on any challenge, ride any wave no matter how big. Now, some mornings, even getting out of bed felt impossible. He wanted a little of Sasuke’s steadiness, just enough of that inner glue to keep himself from falling apart. 

Even now he shifted in the front seat of his car, his groin growing taut as he watched Sasuke march across the gym in black spandex capris that hugged his thighs and ass, his gleaming black thick hair bouncing slightly as he went.  

His own body still surprised him sometimes. It wasn’t as if he lacked for sex, but being so drawn to one man — this man — felt different. He believed in kazoku, as his aunt called it, the Japanese idea of family. He’d always assumed he’d have one of his own someday, but that future felt distant, something meant for years down the line when his surfing career was behind him. He’d never seriously considered dating someone with a child, but then again, he’d never met a single parent who captivated him the way Sasuke did. 

But this is professional, not personal, he reminded himself. He needed a trainer. Sasuke needed to earn more than what this place could no doubt provide. Island Fit might be a nice gym, but it was small and probably relied heavily on tourists streaming in from the big hotel resort next door. 

He swung open the Jeep door and stepped into the warm tropical breeze rolling in off the ocean, resolve settling over him. He needed to know why Sasuke hadn’t accepted his offer yet, and he wasn’t leaving without an answer. Sliding off his expensive shades and pushing them onto the top of his head, he pulled open the gym’s glass door. 

He spotted Sasuke first, standing near the front desk — and then noticed the man crowding him. A stocky, muscled guy hovered too close, his hand lingering on the small of Sasuke’s back as if he were searching for an excuse to keep it there. 

A spark of jealousy flared hot in his chest. The intensity of it startled him, and he forced himself to swallow the territorial edge rising up. 

He had no claim on Sasuke. Not yet. 

“Naruto,” Sasuke blurted, surprise flickering across his face. The man beside him didn’t step back; if anything, he edged closer, his eyes narrowing as he sized Naruto up. Sasuke tried to subtly free himself from the man’s firm grip as he made the introductions. 

“Um… Hidan, this is Naruto Uzumaki. Naruto, this is my boss, Hidan Yugakure.” 

Hidan finally removed his hand from Sasuke’s back — though not nearly fast enough for Naruto’s liking. This guy was Sasuke’s boss? He practically radiated sexual harassment. 

“Naruto, I’ve heard of you, man. You’re the guy with that baggy board‑short line everyone’s wearing.” Hidan’s smile was tight, the kind meant to sound like a compliment but land like a warning. He extended a hand, and Naruto shook it, noting immediately that Hidan’s grip was harder than necessary — a silent declaration of competition. 

If Hidan wanted a pissing contest, Naruto already knew how it would end. 

“Yeah,” Naruto said easily, “we just hit the three‑million mark in sales. Projections say we’ll double that next year. Even mainland kids are wearing them.” 

That shut Hidan up fast, exactly as Naruto expected. He hated throwing numbers around, but some guys only backed off when the scoreboard was shoved right in their face. 

“Naruto?” Sasuke’s voice cracked slightly, surprise flashing across his face — almost panic. 

“You forgot already? You promised me a workout session.” The lie slid out smoothly. 

“I… did?” Sasuke blinked, expression going blank. 

“You did.” Naruto nodded toward the half‑empty gym, as if the space itself backed him up. 

Hidan still hovered too close to Sasuke, but Naruto could practically see the calculations behind the man’s narrowed eyes. A three‑time surf champion training at Island Fit would draw in customers. Hidan looked torn between what he wanted more — Sasuke or the business. 

If Naruto had to make that choice, he wouldn’t have hesitated. 

 “I double‑booked, then. I’ve got another client in ten minutes.” Sasuke glanced down at the computer monitor, clearly flustered. 

“I’ll take it, Sasuke,” Hidan cut in, patting Sasuke’s arm like he owned the place — or him. Naruto’s jaw tightened. He wanted to smack the guy’s hand away, especially when Sasuke gave Hidan a relieved smile. 

“Thanks, Hidan.” 

“No problem. You go help Naruto.” Hidan’s hand slid across Sasuke’s back again, and it took every ounce of Naruto’s restraint not to vault over the counter and rip the man’s muscle shirt off his smug body. Sasuke stepped away, and Naruto followed him toward the far corner of the gym. 

“You didn’t ask for a session,” Sasuke said once they were out of earshot. 

 “I asked for all your sessions,” Naruto corrected. Sasuke nearly slipped on the rubber‑matted floor, and Naruto’s hand shot out to steady him. 

“You okay?” 

“Fine.” Sasuke held onto his arm for a heartbeat before letting go as if it burned. Naruto didn’t have to look to know Hidan was glaring at them from the desk. 

“It’s been two days,” Naruto said quietly. “I was expecting your call.” 

“I…” Sasuke looked fully flustered now, eyes darting away. “I was just taking some time to think about it.” 

“What’s there to think about?” Naruto genuinely wanted to know. He was offering free childcare and six figures. What else did Sasuke need — stock options? 

“Let’s start with some free weights and squats,” Sasuke said quickly, steering them toward the rack. “Good for building those surfing muscles.” 

“I’m serious, Sasuke.” Naruto didn’t follow the redirect. “What’s it going to take for you to say yes? I want this to work.” 

He needed Sasuke’s steadiness, that calm, no‑nonsense you’ll get through this energy. And, if he was honest, he liked having Akari around. The kid made him smile — made him think about something other than his knee for once. That alone felt like a gift. 

“Where’s Akari?” 

“My brother is watching him today.” 

“Can your brother watch him every day?” 

“No,” Sasuke admitted. 

Naruto grabbed a pair of thirty‑pound weights. “You can do more than that,” Sasuke said, swapping them out for fifties before Naruto could protest. “We’re starting with lunges. Like this.” 

He stepped forward into a clean, practiced lunge, demonstrating the form. Naruto followed, letting his good knee take the weight first, muscle memory kicking in. 

“Come work for me,” he said, not bothering to hide the urgency anymore. 

“But… Hidan has been good to me,” Sasuke said. 

Naruto flinched at the warmth in his voice. Did Sasuke actually like the guy? Hidan certainly liked Sasuke — the way he kept staring over from the desk made that painfully obvious, as if he was ready to charge over the second Naruto got too close. 

Sweat gathered at Naruto’s forehead. It had been a while since he’d pushed himself this hard. 

“Hidan has a thing for you, you know.” Naruto watched Sasuke carefully. 

Sasuke winced — a small, uncomfortable shift — and Naruto felt a flicker of relief. 

“Is it that obvious?” Sasuke glanced back toward the desk. 

“You see how he’s staring daggers at me right now? He’s mad I interrupted his little… back‑rubbing moment.” 

“His what?” Sasuke looked genuinely bewildered. 

“He touches you. A lot.” Naruto’s voice dropped, more serious now. “And if he’s your boss, that’s not just ‘not great,’ Sasuke — that’s crossing into actual sexual harassment.” 

Sasuke’s eyes widened slightly, as if the thought hadn’t fully clicked until now. 

Naruto swallowed the rest of what he wanted to say — the part about how he’d imagined being close to Sasuke too, but only if Sasuke wanted it. That was the difference between him and Hidan. 

“He’s not that bad,” Sasuke said, trying to shrug it off. 

Naruto’s jaw tightened. Maybe Sasuke liked it when Hidan put his hands on him every chance he got. The thought irritated him more than he wanted to admit. 

“Come work for me. Get away from Handsy McHands.” Naruto grunted as he pushed through the last few lunges on his good knee. 

Sasuke laughed. “Time to switch legs.” 

Naruto shifted his weight and moved into the lunge on his weaker knee. It strained, but it held — better than he expected. 

“What guarantee do I have that you won’t hire me one week and fire me the next?” Sasuke asked, watching his form closely. “Remember, don’t let your knee go past your foot. Keep it aligned.” 

He knelt beside Naruto to demonstrate, placing a hand lightly on Naruto’s knee to guide it into position. The touch was cool, precise — and sent a sharp jolt of awareness through him. If Sasuke kept doing that, Naruto wasn’t sure he’d stay balanced at all. 

“We can sign a contract. It’ll say you’re entitled to six months’ severance, even if I fire you after day one.” Naruto’s breath came quicker; working the weak knee took real focus and effort. 

Sasuke froze, staring at him, mouth slightly open. “Are you serious?” 

“Look in my shirt pocket.” 

Sasuke reached into the open pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded it — and found exactly what Naruto had described. A full contract. 

“I told you I’d do what it takes for you to come work for me.” 

Sasuke bit his lower lip, thinking hard. “I don’t know.” 

Naruto pushed through three more lunges, the weights growing heavier, the strain on his bad knee building. What was it going to take to get him to say yes? 

Sweat trickled down Naruto’s temple. His legs burned, and his weak knee felt like it could buckle at any second. He badly wanted a break. 

“We can stop now, right?” he said, only half joking. 

“Three more.” Sasuke nodded for him to keep going. 

Naruto wasn’t sure he could. And on the very next lunge, his knee gave out, wobbling hard beneath him. 

“Watch out…” he muttered, panicked, as one of the fifty‑pound weights slipped from his hand. It hit the floor with a heavy bounce, narrowly missing the free‑weight stand. 

Thankfully, no one was close — especially Sasuke. 

Naruto staggered, trying to catch himself, but his balance was gone. Before he could fall, Sasuke was suddenly right beside him, an arm firm around his waist, steadying him. 

 “You okay?” Sasuke breathed, eyes wide with fear as he looked down at Naruto’s knee. 

To anyone else, the leg probably looked fine — strong, healed, normal. But Naruto still saw what it had been ten months ago when they cut the cast off: pale, shrunken, wrong. No one else noticed the difference. Not Sakura. Not his doctors. But he did. Every time. 

“The knee isn’t… healed?” Sasuke’s voice was soft, too perceptive, and it hit Naruto in a place he didn’t want touched. The fact that Sasuke could see straight through him — right to the thing he hated most — made him feel suddenly exposed. Vulnerable in a way he wasn’t ready for. 

“I’m fine,” Naruto said quickly, shaking it off. Shaking Sasuke off, stepping out of his hold. “It’s no big deal.” 

But he suspected Sasuke knew he was lying. The way Sasuke stared at him — steady, skeptical, blinking slowly as if weighing every word — made it obvious. Naruto wasn’t going to bluff his way through training with him. Not when Sasuke could read him this easily. 

Yet the idea of admitting the truth — the depth of the problem, the ways his body still failed him — made panic crawl up his spine. Saying it out loud would make it real in a way he wasn’t ready for. Naming the weakness felt like giving it power. 

He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be that. 

“I’m fine,” he said again, this time looking away. He didn’t want to see the flash of pity. 

“Everything all right over here?” Hidan appeared between them, an intrusion Naruto felt in his teeth. 

“Just slipped out of my hand,” Naruto lied. “Not his fault.” 

Hidan’s eyes flicked from Sasuke to Naruto, assessing, suspicious. 

“Maybe that’s enough for today?” He didn’t bother hiding the edge in his voice. The animosity was mutual, and Naruto wasn’t bothered by that — they both wanted the same thing, after all. No point pretending otherwise. 

“Naruto, need some water?” Sasuke asked, nodding toward the dispenser in the corner. 

“I’ll get it,” Hidan offered immediately, far too eager — clearly hoping to speed Naruto’s exit from his gym. 

Once he was out of earshot, Naruto looked at Sasuke. 

“I guess you can tell training me won’t be easy.” Naruto hated how defeated he sounded, but the words slipped out anyway. His knee had failed him again — and this time right in front of Sasuke. It made him feel like a lost cause, like every fear he’d tried to bury was suddenly on display. 

But he wasn’t ready to quit. Not yet. Not when Sasuke was the one person who might actually be able to help him. 

“But… tell me, which way are you leaning?” Sasuke studied him for a long second, and Naruto braced himself for the answer he didn’t want. The look on Sasuke’s face told him everything — he was leaning toward no. 

Panic tightened in Naruto’s chest. If Sasuke didn’t help him, who would? Who could? 

An idea hit him then — reckless, maybe even stupid — but he was about to be turned down anyway, so what did it matter? At this point, he had nothing left to lose. 

“Wait,” he cut in, hoping his Hail Mary would land. “Before you turn me down, come to dinner.” 

Sasuke’s dark eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in suspicion. “Excuse me?” He clearly thought Naruto was asking him out. 

“Not just with me,” Naruto clarified quickly. “With my sister, my aunt. My friends Dallas and Allie. You remember them?” 

Sasuke nodded slowly. How could he forget? Dallas and Allie were the ones who’d pulled Akari and Naruto out of the floodwaters, hauling them into their kayak when things could’ve gone very differently. They were also the ones who’d found Sasuke afterward and reunited him with Akari. Without them, Naruto knew he might not be standing here at all. 

"They're having a dinner tonight at the Kona Estate. Why don't you come? Bring Akari." 

“I wasn’t invited,” Sasuke said, uncertainty flickering across his face. Naruto could see the distrust there too — as if he suspected this was some kind of trap. 

And, honestly, it was. A gentle one, but still a trap. 

Naruto knew Sasuke might be able to tell him no. But Aunt Tsunade? That was another story entirely. She adored kids, and once she laid eyes on Akari, it would be over. She’d practically shove Naruto aside to volunteer for babysitting duty. 

“They always cook more than we can eat,” Naruto said. “Dallas is barbecuing, which means he won’t stop until he’s seared the whole cow. I’m serious.” 

Sasuke’s expression softened a fraction. 

“Besides,” Naruto added, “Aunt Tsunade knows me better than anyone. If after you talk to her, you still want to tell me no, then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“One dinner tonight with them, and then if I say no, you won’t show up at my work? Stalk me?” 

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Naruto said. 

Sasuke gave him a look — flat, unimpressed, absolutely not buying it. 

“Okay, so I was,” Naruto admitted with a sigh. “I admit it. But come tonight, and if you don’t want the job after that, then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.” 

Sasuke mulled it over. “Okay,” he said at last. “I’ll come.” 

“I can pick you both up at six.” 

“No,” Sasuke said quickly. “I’ll meet you there.” 

Naruto decided not to push it. Sasuke had agreed to come — that was already more than he’d expected. He’d have to be satisfied with that. 

Chapter Text

That evening as Sasuke made his way to the Kona Estate, he gripped his steering wheel and thought, once again, about turning around and going home.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Akari happily kicking his feet in the booster seat, Spider‑Man clutched in his tiny fist as he stared out the window. The sight should have calmed him. Instead, it only made the knot in Sasuke’s stomach tighten. He felt nervous — more nervous than he wanted to admit — about meeting Naruto’s aunt and sister. He already felt an unnatural pull toward Naruto, something he didn’t trust, something he didn’t want to trust. Going to the man’s home, meeting his family, stepping into his world… it felt like crossing a line he wasn’t sure he’d be able to step back from.

Maybe meeting Naruto’s sister and aunt would snap him out of it. Maybe seeing Naruto surrounded by people who loved him would remind Sasuke just how out of place he really was. If they were rude, or dismissive, or even just indifferent, he’d take it as a sign. He’d leave. He’d protect Akari from getting attached to people who might not stay.

And Naruto had offered his aunt as a babysitter. That alone made Sasuke uneasy. If the woman was careless with Akari, or impatient, or even slightly unkind, then Sasuke would have his answer. He could walk away from the job offer without guilt. Without wondering what might have happened if he’d said yes.

Maybe this dinner would give him the excuse he needed — the clean, simple reason to bow out before he let himself get pulled any deeper into Naruto’s orbit.

Dallas and Allie, of course, were another story.

He remembered them from the emergency room last year, when they’d looked after Akari and helped track him down. Sasuke had liked them immediately — but then, he would’ve liked anyone who brought his son back to him safe. He still remembered how Akari’s hands had been sticky from the mango candy Allie had given him. Under normal circumstances, he might have frowned at the sugar, but that day he’d only felt relief. Someone had been kind to his boy when he couldn’t be there to do it himself. Dallas and Allie were good people; he didn’t need to know them well to understand that. They’d gone out into the flooding to find Naruto, and by doing so, they’d found Akari too. He’d seen them around the island since and always made a point to say hello, but this would be the first time he’d ever stepped into their home.

Sasuke glanced at the seat next to him and the bag with his hostess gift tucked inside: another homemade candle and some macadamia-nut cookies he'd baked himself. At least he'd get a chance to tell Dallas and Allie thank you once more.

He saw the sign for the Kona Coffee Estate and turned up the long gravel drive, the tires crunching softly as rows of lush coffee trees rose on either side. Their branches were heavy with bright red cherries, the kind of sight that made the whole place feel alive. It struck him, not for the first time, how much work Dallas and Allie must put into this land. Running a coffee plantation wasn’t easy, but somehow those two made it look natural — like the island itself had chosen them. He knew they’d won award after award for their Kona brew this past year, and a small part of him felt proud on their behalf, even though he had nothing to do with it.

Through his open window, the smoky scent of barbecue drifted in, warm and inviting. It reminded him of the way Dallas had hovered protectively over Akari in the ER, or how Allie had kept the boy distracted with mango candy and gentle chatter. Good people. The kind you wanted to see succeed. As he drove closer to the house, Sasuke felt a quiet gratitude settle in his chest — not just for what they’d done back then, but for the kind of life they’d built here. A life he hoped wouldn’t feel too foreign to step into, even for one evening.

As Sasuke looked for a place to park, brake lights flared on a new Jeep ahead of him, and then Naruto stepped out. Sasuke’s pulse kicked hard before he could stop it. Naruto looked effortlessly put together — khaki shorts, a casual button‑down, flip‑flops — the kind of relaxed island look that shouldn’t have mattered but somehow did.

Even through the loose fabric, it was impossible not to notice the strength in his build. The shirt pulled slightly across his chest and shoulders when he moved, hinting at the solid muscle beneath. His forearms were tanned and defined, the kind of strength that came from real work, not a gym routine. And his calves, visible below the hem of his shorts, were just as strong — corded muscle shaped by years of surfing and constant motion.

Sasuke tried not to stare, tried to pretend none of it affected him, but the truth was harder to ignore. Seeing Naruto like this — relaxed, confident, completely unaware of the effect he had — made the whole situation feel suddenly, dangerously real.

"Naruto!" Akari shouted out the open window.

Naruto turned and spotted the boy, and his face split into a wide, unguarded grin. Sasuke barely had time to open his door before Akari wriggled out of his seat belt and pushed his own door open. Too independent for his own good, Sasuke thought, watching him sprint across the gravel toward Naruto.

The surfer scooped Akari up with an ease that made the boy squeal in delight, his laughter ringing across the driveway. The sight hit Sasuke low in the stomach — a warm, unsettling tug he shoved down immediately. He didn’t like Akari getting attached to people who might not stay. He’d worked too hard to keep their world small and safe.

Naruto set Akari gently back on his feet, ruffling his hair before looking up at Sasuke. “Glad you came.”

"Again!" Akari cried, holding up his hands and asking to be picked up.

"Akari," Sasuke warned his boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. As they stood near the front porch of the farmhouse, the door slapped open and Dallas came out, a big grin on his face.

"Good to see you, man," Dallas said, shaking Naruto's hand. His Texan drawl gave away that he wasn't born on the Big Island, which Sasuke knew already.

"Sasuke, welcome," Dallas said, holding out a hand, which he took. "And there's the little guy. High five, Akari?" Dallas offered a hand that Akari gladly slapped.

"Hi, everyone!" cried Allie, coming out on the porch and throwing her arms wide to give Naruto a hug. Sasuke felt a little surge of something that felt a bit like jealousy. Until he saw the bright diamond on Allie's left hand.

"Did you and Dallas get engaged?" Sasuke asked.

"Yes," Allie said, beaming, and then added, "so nice of you to come!"

"Thank you for having us. This is for you." Sasuke handed over the gift bag, and Allie surprised him by taking it and then wrapping him in a warm hug. He already felt as though he were part of a little family. It had been just him and Itachi and Akari for so long, he'd kind of forgotten what that was like. "We did. Dallas even managed a romantic proposal."

Dallas rolled his eyes. "The things men do for love."

"I still can't believe you're going through with it," Naruto declared. "You? Settle down? The stars must be out of alignment."

"You should try it," Allie said as Dallas slipped an arm around her small waist. "You might like it." Allie turned her attention to Akari as she knelt down by him. "Akari! Is that you? I hardly recognized you, you've grown so much!"

Akari stood a little taller, proud to be bigger. "I'm four!" he declared.

"I see that," Allie said. "I've got something that I think you'll like. Do you think your dad will let you have one of these before dinner?" She reached into her pocket and drew out a small wrapped piece of mango candy.

Sasuke thought about saying no. But one little piece wouldn't kill him. And he was touched Allie remembered it was Akari's favorite. "Okay, but tell Miss Allie thank you."

"Thank you!" Akari almost shouted as he grabbed the candy and immediately began tearing into the wrapper.

“Is that Naruto? He owes me twenty bucks.”

A petite redhead strode out of the house, voice sharp and amused.

“Hey, sis,” Naruto said, pulling the woman into a hug.

Kyuubi, Sasuke assumed. He wasn’t sure what he’d pictured — something quieter, maybe, or someone more reserved — but this no‑filter, firecracker of a woman wasn’t it. And somehow, that made him like her immediately. If this was Naruto’s family, maybe tonight wouldn’t be as impossible as he’d feared.

Kyuubi pulled back from her brother and grinned. “You said the customers at Hula Coffee would hate the new coconut latte, but they love it. So pay up. It’s becoming the most popular drink on the menu.”

She held out her palm expectantly, and Naruto let out a dramatic sigh as he dug out his wallet. He slapped a twenty into her hand with exaggerated defeat.

“Okay, okay, fine. You win.”

Sasuke watched the exchange, surprised by how natural it felt — the easy teasing, the warmth underneath it.

Kyuubi glanced over at Sasuke. “Where are my manners! I’m Kyuubi, Naruto’s sister. You must be Sasuke. I’ve heard so much about you.”

She held out her hand, and Sasuke shook it, trying not to show how that one sentence snagged in his mind. Naruto had talked about him? They barely knew each other. 

“And Akari! I heard you like Spider‑Man.”

Akari, cheeks full and sticky with candy, nodded enthusiastically and mumbled, “Mrghf!”

“I think he’s saying that’s his favorite,” Sasuke translated, and the others laughed.

An older woman stepped out onto the front porch, wearing fitted dark jeans and a crisp white linen shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Her long pale‑blond hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head, a few strands escaping in a way that somehow made her look even more put‑together. “I hear a big racket out here!”

Sasuke straightened instinctively. This had to be Naruto’s aunt — Tsunade. She wasn’t at all what he’d imagined.

The others laughed and then Naruto turned to introduce Sasuke and Akari.

“This is Aunt Tsunade,” Naruto said, and something clicked in Sasuke’s memory. He had seen her before — that day at the hospital when he’d gone to check on Naruto. The visit had been a blur of exhaustion and worry, but he remembered a warm, steady presence in the waiting room.

Now, seeing her clearly, he could pick out the family resemblance. The same warm eyes Naruto had — bright, perceptive, and carrying a hint of mischief, as if she were always sitting on a very good joke. 

"Oh, yes, Ms. Sen–..."

"Ms. Senju, but you can call me Tsunade. Everyone does."

"Tsunade," Sasuke said, and it felt right.

“Naruto! When will you fix my cabinet hinge? My doors are falling off!” Tsunade called, her voice carrying easily across the porch. The teasing lilt in it made Naruto groan.

“Tomorrow, okay? I’ll do it tomorrow!”

She waved off his promise like she’d heard it a hundred times before, already moving on.

“This must be Akari.”

Tsunade knelt down so she was nearly eye‑level with the boy. Akari blinked at her, wide‑eyed and curious, a smear of candy still on his cheek.

Tsunade studied the boy for a beat. "Akari, you look hungry," Tsunade said. "Why not come in and eat some real food!"

“I’m starving!” Akari managed after finally swallowing his candy.

Sasuke watched Tsunade’s face soften instantly, her whole demeanor warming as she looked at the boy. And Akari — usually shy around new adults — leaned into that warmth without hesitation. It struck Sasuke more than he expected. His gut told him Tsunade would be a great babysitter, someone Akari would feel safe with. One hurdle down.

He wasn’t sure if the feeling that followed was relief… or something closer to disappointment. Letting people into their lives had never been simple. And the easier this all seemed, the more dangerous it felt to let himself trust it.

"Why is Auntie acting like this is her house?" Naruto asked Allie, who shrugged.

"You know better than I do that woman does exactly what she wants when she wants." They shared a grin.

"Why do you say that?" Sasuke asked, curious.

"She's known to speak Hawaiian and pretend not to know English if she doesn't like what's being said," Allie said. "She did that to me when I first moved back to the island and wanted to sell my share of the coffee plantation."

"She did?"

“She’s done worse. But it’s because she always knows best,” Naruto said, winking at Sasuke.

Sasuke tried — genuinely tried — to fight off the effect that wink had on him. It was ridiculous how easily Naruto’s charm slipped past his defenses. And meeting his family wasn’t helping. If anything, it was making everything worse. Or better. He couldn’t decide.

He’d come here expecting to confirm what he already believed: that Naruto was a playboy who didn’t take anything seriously, someone who drifted through life without thinking too hard about the people he left behind. But standing here, looking into those warm blue eyes, watching how gently he handled Akari, how naturally he fit with the people around him… Sasuke found that belief harder and harder to hold onto.

He didn’t want to like Naruto more. But he did.

And that was the problem.

"Come in!" Aunt Tsunade prodded the group again. "Dallas, you have work to do on that grill!"

"Yes, ma'am," Dallas drawled, standing at attention.

Dallas, Allie, and Akari headed inside, and Sasuke followed a few steps behind them. Just as he reached the doorway, Tsunade stopped Naruto with a hand on his arm. Sasuke hadn’t meant to overhear anything — he wasn’t trying to pry — but he’d only just turned the corner, not far enough away to miss their voices. The words drifted to him whether he wanted them or not.

"When you going to quit this crazy surfing? Naminori!"

"Auntie..." Naruto breathed a long sigh.

"Thought you were going to retire!"

"I'm not ready yet. I'm going to do it whether or not Sasuke helps me, and if he helps me, then I have a better chance of not drowning." 

Tsunade made a disapproving sound in her throat. "You stubborn. Too stubborn."

"That's why you love me."

Sasuke heard Tsunade chuckle and shuffled away from his eavesdropping point, feeling even more that he ought to take the job, despite his reservations. If he could help him, shouldn't he try?

"Can I get you a drink?" Allie asked, swinging by, holding a pitcher of sangria.

Just then Dallas slid his arms around his fiancée's waist, giving her a hug from behind that made her squeal.

“Dallas! You’re going to make me spill.”

Dallas only laughed and leaned in to press a light kiss to Allie’s shoulder. Her blue sleeveless sundress showed off the elegant line of her collarbone, and she nudged him with her hip, pretending to be annoyed. He didn’t budge. The easy way those two moved around each other — the comfort, the quiet certainty — made it obvious they were built for this life together.

Sasuke felt a pang he hadn’t expected. Not jealousy, exactly… more like recognition. A reminder of something he’d once imagined for himself. Something he still wanted, if he was honest.

But wanting didn’t matter. Not when he had Akari to think about. His son came first. Always. And anything that complicated that — anything that risked their stability — wasn’t an option.

"Sasuke? A drink?" Allie held up the pitcher.

"Oh, no, thank you." Sasuke wasn't going to drink, not when he had to drive Akari home. He watched his little boy as he trailed Dallas to the barbecue out back, where he was shown the fine art of flipping a steak.

Sasuke saw Kyuubi at the kitchen counter slicing mangos.

“Can I help?” he asked, stepping toward her.

“Oh, no, I’m fine — but I’d love the company.” She shot him a quick smile before adding, “So, Naruto thinks you can help him. Says you’ve got a way to rehabilitate the knee.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sasuke said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I can help him, but I’m just a little uncomfortable with…”

“Working for an egomaniac who parties all the time and thinks he’s always right?”

Sasuke gaped at her, caught completely off guard — and then Kyuubi burst out laughing. The sound was bright and unfiltered, and it tugged a reluctant laugh out of him too.

“I guess so!”

Her grin widened. “Good. Then you’ll fit right in. He’s my brother, and I love him, but he’s a mess.”

Kyuubi swept the sliced mangos into a big bowl, then wiped her hands on a tea towel with the practiced efficiency of someone who ran a household — and half the island — without breaking a sweat.

“He’s also bossy,” she added, “so don’t let him push you around too much. If you don’t want the job, you don’t have to take it, even if he bugs you to death.”

“He said if I came to dinner and still didn’t want the job, he’d leave me alone.”

Kyuubi quirked an eyebrow, the expression so sharp and amused it could’ve cut fruit on its own.

“And you believed him.”

Sasuke laughed, the sound slipping out before he could stop it. “No, I guess I didn’t.”

Kyuubi grinned, satisfied. “Good. You’re catching on.”

“Are you two talking about me?” Naruto asked, popping into the space between them with the ease of someone who’d been doing it his whole life. “Sasuke, don’t believe anything this girl says. She’s still holding a grudge about the time I borrowed her bike.”

Kyuubi scooped more fruit into the bowl and grabbed a spoon to mix it in.

“Crashed it, you mean! I don’t know how you bent the front wheel, but you did!”

“I didn’t—” Naruto started, indignant.

Kyuubi snorted. “Please. You were twelve and thought you were Evel Knievel.”

Naruto opened his mouth to argue again, but Sasuke caught the faint flush on his cheeks — embarrassment, nostalgia, and affection all tangled together. It was strangely endearing.

"Oh, you did, all right," Allie said, leaning into the kitchen from the dining room. "I remember that. Bent the front fender and everything."

“See?” Kyuubi said, triumphant as she waved the wooden spoon in Naruto’s face. “You definitely don’t want to work for this man.”

“Kyuubi! You’re not helping!” Naruto threw his arms up in mock frustration. “You’re supposed to convince Sasuke to take the job.”

Kyuubi didn’t even look up from the fruit bowl. “I am helping. I’m giving him the truth. You should try it sometime.”

Naruto sputtered, but Sasuke caught the faint flush on his cheeks — half embarrassment, half affection.

“Run! Get out while you still can!” Kyuubi stage‑whispered, and Sasuke couldn’t help it — he laughed. Really laughed. The kind that loosened something tight in his chest.

He found himself liking everyone here, and honestly, who wouldn’t? Warmth and affection seemed to radiate from every corner of the house. People teased because they cared. They touched shoulders, shared food, moved around each other with an ease that spoke of years of trust.

It was nothing like the home he grew up in.

He remembered the strict rules, the quiet hallways, his mother’s perpetually sour expression. The constant feeling that he was one misstep away from disappointing someone. That he was always doing something wrong, even when he didn’t know what.

But this house…

This house was full of joy and laughter.

And he liked it.

Maybe a little too much.

"Steaks are ready!" Dallas called as he brought in a plateful of seared monsters. "I hope you're hungry," he told Sasuke, who couldn't help but stare at the two-inch-thick steaks. Naruto had been right: he'd made too many. Yet they smelled delicious.

Soon enough they were all seated around a big farmhouse table, happily eating and chatting. The lively buzz of conversation and good food warmed Sasuke, made him feel as if he belonged. Even Akari cheerfully gobbled up some of his fruit and vegetables, which normally required a nightly fight.

Sasuke nodded at him and he grinned back, mouth full of mango.

“So, Sasuke, are you single?” Tsunade asked out of nowhere, and the entire table seemed to freeze mid‑conversation.

“Auntie!” Kyuubi exclaimed, horrified.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Naruto said quickly, shooting his aunt a look.

“Uh…” Sasuke managed.

His eyes flicked to Akari, a reflexive jolt of worry hitting him — the last thing he wanted was to explain that word right now. But the little boy was completely absorbed in his own world, swinging his legs and examining a Spider‑Man sticker on his hand like it held the secrets of the universe. If it wasn’t superhero‑related, he didn’t care.

“Yes, I am.”

“Auntie,” Naruto groaned. “You know if these were interview questions, you could be sued for harassment.”

Tsunade waved a dismissive hand, utterly unbothered. “I’m just getting to know Sasuke!”

“And the whole dinner table,” Naruto pointed out.

Sasuke chuckled, unable to help himself. The whole exchange was ridiculous — and strangely comforting. This family didn’t tiptoe around anything. They asked blunt questions, teased without mercy, and somehow made it feel like an invitation rather than an intrusion.

For someone who’d grown up in a house where silence was the default and personal questions were landmines, the openness was… disorienting. But in a good way. A warm way.

“Okay, so you want to talk about your personal life, then?” Tsunade challenged, folding her arms like she was about to conduct a cross‑examination.

Sasuke felt the spotlight shift off him and exhaled in relief — but the relief didn’t last long. If Tsunade started digging into Naruto’s personal life, who knew what might come up. And worse, who might overhear.

His gaze flicked immediately to Akari.

The boy was still perched at the table, swinging his legs and humming to himself, completely absorbed in peeling the backing off a Spider‑Man sticker. If the conversation wasn’t about superheroes, he wasn’t listening. Thank goodness.

“What personal life?” Kyuubi said. “All the women he dates put it on Instagram.”

Sasuke got the reference immediately. He wasn’t the only one who’d seen Naruto with women — apparently half the island had.

Naruto suddenly flushed. “Did you see…?”

“The hot tub picture?” Allie chimed in, and Kyuubi burst out laughing.

“Everyone’s seen that,” Kyuubi added, far too delighted. Then she turned to Sasuke with a wicked grin. “Right, Sasuke?”

“Uh… well…” Sasuke felt heat crawl up his neck. He had no idea where to look — at Naruto’s mortified face, at Kyuubi’s triumphant one, or anywhere else that wasn’t this conversation.

Naruto turned to Sasuke, and Sasuke could practically see the moment the memory hit him — those two women at his house, the assumptions Sasuke must have made, the image he probably projected without meaning to. Colour rushed up Naruto’s neck and into his cheeks, bright and unmistakable.

And somehow, that made Sasuke like him more.

He hadn’t expected embarrassment. Not from someone with a reputation like Naruto’s. Not from someone who seemed so unapologetically confident, so at ease with the world and his place in it. A player shouldn’t care what anyone thought. A player shouldn’t look flustered about being seen.

But Naruto did.

And that discomfort — that flash of vulnerability — didn’t fit the image Sasuke had built of him.

"Nice work, man," Dallas said, and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Hey! You better not think that's nice work," Allie said, waving a fork threateningly in Dallas's direction. Dallas put his hands up in surrender.

"I was being sarcastic," Dallas protested.

Kyuubi fixed Naruto with a look. "You've really been the talk of the island lately. That picture is only the least of it, from what I heard."

The Big Island was the biggest in Hawaii's chain, yet gossip still traveled faster than lightning. Among the locals, secrets were never safe.

"You've officially surpassed my record for Island's Biggest Tourist Magnet," Dallas said. "Congratulations."

"If you don't watch it, you're going to end up as a stop on a bus tour," Allie teased.

"I'm not that bad," Naruto protested.

Sasuke had the good sense to stay absolutely silent and suddenly become very interested in the food on his plate. If he didn’t move, maybe the conversation would pass over him like a storm cloud.

Akari, having finished his dinner, began fidgeting on his chair — legs swinging, fingers tapping, whole body vibrating with the unmistakable signs of a five‑minute countdown before chaos. The boy was an endless ball of energy, and Sasuke could already picture him breaking into a sprint around the table if he didn’t redirect him soon. Especially if this conversation took a turn into territory Sasuke definitely didn’t want little ears absorbing.

“Akari? Do you like bubbles?” Tsunade asked suddenly, her voice bright and conspiratorial.

Akari froze mid‑wiggle.

“I’ve got a new bottle I want to try out. Want to help me?”

Then, like a magician revealing her final trick, Tsunade pulled a full bottle of Spider‑Man bubbles from her pocket.

Akari’s eyes went huge. “Spider‑Man!”

Sasuke blinked. Tsunade had come prepared. Extremely prepared.

And just like that, the potential disaster of adult conversation evaporated. Akari slid off his chair with the single‑minded purpose of a child who had just been offered the greatest opportunity of his life.

He clapped his hands in joy and then turned to Sasuke for permission. He nodded and he took the bubbles, then gleefully clomped out to the backyard to open them.

"Thank you, Tsunade," Sasuke said, grateful for the distraction and the discretion. Sasuke stood to take his plate to the kitchen and then followed Tsunade out back, watching her help the boy unwrap the bubbles. She was good with kids. Naruto had been right about that.

Now more than ever, he felt as if he should take the job. More money. A great babysitter. Why was he even hesitating?

“Hey.”

Naruto stood beside him at the porch door, tall and tense, his whole frame coiled with a kind of restless energy that felt impossible to ignore. And suddenly Sasuke understood — that was why he kept getting pulled in, why his thoughts kept drifting places he didn’t intend.

Naruto didn’t just walk into a space. He filled it.

He radiated something warm and alive that tugged at Sasuke even when he tried to look away.

Sasuke felt the pull now, sharp and immediate, like gravity had shifted. A part of him — the part he kept locked down — wanted to lean in, to close the distance, to let himself fall into that warmth and not think about consequences for once.

“Uh, hi.” Sasuke straightened up a little too quickly, trying to look composed. It didn’t help much — not with Naruto standing that close, warm and restless beside him. He forced his gaze forward, willing his pulse to settle, pretending he wasn’t reacting at all.

“So, sorry about… well, dinner.”

Sasuke blinked. “Sorry? Why?”

“Aunt Tsunade asking you… about…” Naruto shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “She doesn’t have an edit button.”

“No need to apologize,” Sasuke said, and he meant it. “I like her. And your sister. And Dallas and Allie. Dinner was really nice.”

“It was?” Naruto looked genuinely surprised, like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “Well… uh, good.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable exactly — just charged, like neither of them knew what to do with the fact that the evening had gone well.

Sasuke glanced up at Naruto’s face and instantly realized it was a mistake.

Those blue eyes were fixed on him, steady and intent, and the pull he felt toward him sharpened in an instant. Naruto was handsome, sure — anyone could see that — but it was more than that. It was the way he looked at him, like he was trying to read something in Sasuke he hadn’t decided whether to say out loud.

Maybe he looked at everyone like that. Maybe that was just Naruto.

But Sasuke couldn’t look away.

No matter how hard he tried.

“Sasuke,” Naruto said, voice low and serious.

Sasuke looked up — and immediately regretted it. Naruto’s eyes were fixed on him, steady and intense, and the air between them seemed to tighten. Was he stepping closer? It felt like he was. Sasuke’s heartbeat kicked up in response.

“Mmm‑hmm?”

“This might seem… forward.”

Forward. Right. Sasuke could think of a dozen things that would qualify, and somehow none of them felt too bold in this moment. His thoughts were already drifting in directions he shouldn’t let them go, pulled by the charged energy snapping between them.

“What?” he managed.

Naruto hesitated, and the pause only made the moment feel sharper. Sasuke could feel the warmth of him, the nearness, the possibility. A part of him — the reckless part he usually kept buried — hoped Naruto would close the distance, would act on whatever was flickering behind those blue eyes.

But he held still, waiting, pulse loud in his ears.

“Have you thought more about taking the job?”

Job?

It took Sasuke a full second to recalibrate, his brain scrambling to shift gears from the entirely different direction it had been heading. The sudden pivot from whatever this moment was to employment talk left him blinking.

The job.  

Right.

The whole reason he was here in the first place.

He felt abruptly foolish, heat creeping up his neck. Of course Naruto wasn’t about to say anything bold or intimate. Of course he was talking about work. Meanwhile Sasuke’s thoughts had been… elsewhere. Very elsewhere.

That was not where Sasuke had thought Naruto was going. Not even close.

He was still off balance, still trying to steady his breathing, and for one dizzy second he couldn’t come up with a single good reason not to say yes. Not when Naruto was looking at him like that.

“Are you serious about this?” Sasuke asked. His voice came out slightly hoarse, betraying more than he wanted.

“More serious than anything.”

Naruto stepped closer.

Just one step — but it was enough to freeze Sasuke’s brain completely. Naruto was close enough now that Sasuke could feel the warmth radiating off him, a quiet, steady heat that made it impossible to think straight.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” Sasuke said.

The words were out before he could second‑guess them, and for a heartbeat he worried he’d regret it — that he’d spoken too quickly, too impulsively, too influenced by the warmth standing inches from him.

But then Naruto’s face lit up.

Not a polite smile. Not a relieved exhale.

Pure joy.

“You will?”

“On one condition. I make the rules. You break the rules, I’m outta there,” Sasuke said.

He needed the boundary — or at least the illusion of one. His heart was beating far too fast for him to pretend he had any real control over the situation. At least where his hormones were concerned, the battle was already lost.

“Of course. You make the rules.”

Naruto’s mouth curved into a teasing smile, the kind that made Sasuke question whether the surfer had ever followed a rule in his life. The expression was warm, playful… and entirely unhelpful for Sasuke’s self‑control.

"The first rule is, Akari doesn't come with me on the first day."

"Why not? He loves Aunt Tsuname."

Sasuke looked over at his boy playing with Naruto’s aunt, tiny hands chasing bubbles across the yard. “Yes, he does, but the first day, I…”

The sentence trailed off.

I want to be alone with you.

The thought hit him like a flash of heat, sharp and uninvited. A guilty admission he hadn’t meant to form, let alone acknowledge. Was that really what he wanted?

"I... don't want any distractions."

Naruto raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Okay."

"You'll be ready at eight Saturday morning?" 

Naruto gave a knowing smile. "Oh, I'll be ready. Will you?"

Sasuke's stomach lurched as he wondered if he'd just made the best or worst decision of his life.