This was so... strange.
Not the kind of strange that sets off alarms. The quieter kind. The kind you notice in the pit of your stomach before your brain catches on. Something about all this didn't sit right, and I couldn't put it down to nerves or paranoia.
This mission hadn't even started, and I already knew it was going to go wrong.
I should've been more concerned about Sai. Root's edge-of-sociopathy shinobi. On paper, he should have been my first headache. Root types usually are. Weaponized detachment. Programmed loyalty. There were very specific ways to handle someone trained to kill emotions before they were allowed to tie their shoes. But he was a known variable, more or less.
No. The real problems were a little closer to home. Too close, really.
Some of them were entirely my fault.
I never planed to screw myself out of operational harmony by sleeping with my teammate's mother—but plans aren't usually involved in mistakes like that.
Sakura had watched me bury my cock into everything she came from.
And she was not happy. With all those glares, huffs, and scowls.
I knew I'd regret it.
And that would've been enough poison in the team dynamic and push this mission over a cliff.
But that was not all of it, was it? I also had the wisdom of emptying myself into Shiho moments ago. Three times. All the release, none of the clarity. Now I feel slow, drained. Chakra sluggish like molasses through my coils.
Sex always dulls the edge.
I never learn.
The only grace in this was the mission taking place tomorrow and not right now. Hopefully, I will regain the fine control of my chakra by then.
And then there was Naruto.
The one taking the lead on my headache list.
It may sound cowardly — and maybe it was — but I didn't want to be the one responsible for keeping him alive.
This wasn't the anime. There was no swelling orchestral theme when he was about to do something reckless. Just silence and the dull snap of a body hitting the forest floor.
I left the field for a reason. Statistically, eighty percent of those assigned to high-risk missions end up dead. That number doesn't scare me. It's just a number. What scares me was being there when it happens. Seeing it. Failing at it.
Three out of four of my previous 'teammates' were now fertilizers.
Naruto didn't have an atom bomb in his gut. No fox spirit to bail him out when things get ugly.
The shining brat. The would-be savior of the world.
And one fucked-up decision on my part....
I thought about refusing the assignment. Orders be damned. If they court-martialed me, fine. If they blackballed me from every mission record and erased my name from the war ledgers —good.
Because the cost of failing here, of being the man who got Uzumaki Naruto killed, doesn't stop at one life.
Nonetheless, I reconsidered refusing after reading the mission's details.
It was in the Land of Waves.
The client was a merchant, not a bridge builder. But "bridge" was mentioned a couple of times. And there was talk of Fog and instability. Pirates turned rogue ninja. Client with a gambling problem. Infrastructure sabotage.
It was all off, twisted.
A mission three years late. But timelines shift without the Nine-Tails attack, don't they? Butterfly wings and all that.
It was familiar and predictable enough that I decided to roll with it.
It was an hour—maybe two—past dinner time when we finally stepped out of the Hokage Tower. I stretched, joints popping like cheap fireworks, and cast a lazy glance over the three of them.
"What a fine day for barbecue," I said brightly, trying to sound like I hadn't aged ten years just from this assignment. "Let's go. I'm paying."
Sakura scoffed and turned her eyes away, arms folded across her chest like a barrier that dared me to approach.
I didn't blame her. I just didn't have the energy to deal with her yet.
Sai spoke next, his voice soft, "shouldn't we prioritize organizing the tactical framework before indulging in recreational nourishment?"
"Ramen!" Naruto cut in, energetic as ever. "Why would anyone go for that burnt beefy stuff when Ichiraku's exists? Seriously, Eishin, c'mon!"
Part of me wanted to sigh. How did Kakashi manage not to strangle this?
But Kakashi was on a mission now and…..
I rubbed a knuckle against my temple. I should stop being a whiny bitch. I smiled gently, aiming it at Sai first.
"We will talk shop, Sai, in a calm setting." I said, "but we don't run a mission on empty guts and low morale."
Sai tilted his head the way a dog ear twitches when it half-understands something. "Morale and satiety are not empirically linked, but… you are the jonin commander."
"Glad we cleared that up," I murmured, then glanced down at the loudest member of this disaster trio.
Naruto was already fidgeting, likely mentally running through the top ten toppings Ichiraku had available tonight.
I gave him an apologetic smile, softening the correction with something that maybe reminded him of Kakashi. Or Iruka. Or something I was trying too hard to fake.
"We hit barbecue today," I said gently. "Next time? Ramen's on me."
He opened his mouth—already pouting, I could tell—but I put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially.
"All the servings you want."
That did it.
Naruto lit up like the sky over Konoha on festival night. "You mean, even extra miso pork?" he beamed. "Like, five bowls worth?!"
"Nine," I said with a grin, "but only if you survive waves country without punching the wrong thug."
He let out a goofy laugh, throwing his hands behind his head in that ridiculous, open-chested shrug-stance of his. "Heh—deal! I'll hold back unless they mess with Sakura-chan!"
Sakura blew out a sigh through her nose, clearly unimpressed.
I caught myself smiling again, even though I knew better. It was tough not to be affected by his enthusiasm.
I truly didn't give a damn whether they ate ramen, barbecue, or stall bread hard enough to crack a molar. I want to take that time to directly pick up rations for the mission and the raccoons' preferred meat.
As if those insufferable trash-summoning bastards had refined palates.
We hadn't made it three steps when another voice came crashing into the alleyway behind us like a festival firecracker.
"Ah! The vibrant flames of springtime youth demand sustenance after a mission is declared—WONDERFULLY STATED, MY YOUNG FRIEND!"
It was a familiar voice, but I couldn't help the jolt.
I turned — and yes, there he was. Gai-sensei.
Sunlight still beaming off that green jumpsuit. Flashing the same dazzling grin I'd seen at least one hundred goddamn sunrises. He was standing near the market road's edge with his three students in tow. Rock Lee practically vibrating in place, Neji looking mildly pained to exist, and Tenten—
...Tenten.
My eyes stayed on her for a breath too long.
I caught myself. Immediately. Not here. Not in front of Gai-sensei.
"Ahh — Gai-sensei," I pulled my smile up gently and genuinely, "well, you've always taught me that youth needs fuel. And misbehavior needs protein."
Gai-sensei laughed with all his lungs, striking the skies with a practiced thumbs-up. "YES! The forges of youth blaze hotter when well-fed and emotionally connected with one's comrades! A shared meal is as vital as shared JUTSU PRACTICE!"
Naruto was already laughing like it was a performance.
Sakura looked vaguely horrified.
Sai blinked at him in a bewildered silence that made me bite back another smirk.
I had been five or six when I first met the Green Beast of Konoha. Jogging pre-dawn laps around the whole village, haloed in backlight, breathing pure discipline like it was oxygen.
He didn't ignore me.
He was kind enough—or sadistic enough—not to refuse help, training-wise more so. And I was shameless enough, desperate enough, and quite frankly foolish enough to not take advantage of that.
It was hell, I got shivers just by the memories. But Gai-sensei never stopped shouting encouragements, no matter how awful I was. No matter if I puked in a bush halfway into wind sprint number ten. He shouted louder.
Not a mentor, not officially. But a first anchor. A bit of loud, obnoxious light.
And I clung to it, because, again, I'm shameless.
"You've still got the loudest lungs in all the Country of Fire, sensei," I said, lips twitching.
He laughed, his hands on his hips, "Let's spar next time."
I would rather not.
"Just got our assignment," I offered, to explain why we were all gathered like a funeral procession outside Hokage Tower. "Land of Waves. Merchant trouble."
"Excellent!" he bellowed. "A test for your youthful flames! Let no storm dim your fire!"
"Back from a mission?" I asked, scanning their dusty gear and the subtle weariness in Neji's shoulders.
I nodded at Gai as he confirmed it with his eternal grin, fist planted on his hip, everyone radiating that fresh-post-mission mix of success and suppressed tension.
They didn't linger. Gai marched toward the tower with his team in tow. Neji barely spared us a glance before following Gai into the Tower. Rock Lee gave Naruto an exaggerated nod, as if willing him into some unspoken sparring pact, and Tenten—
I tried not to stare too much at her ass. That was a mistake.
Sakura noticed.
"Do you always look like that when you see her?" Sakura asked, voice low and sharp as a drawn kunai.
"Like what?" I said.
Her eyes cut me.
"You know what."
I shrugged and started walking.
— — —
The barbecue place was the opposite of calm; loud, greasy, and smelled like heaven if heaven was poorly ventilated. We slid into a booth in the back, Naruto grinning like his usual, Sakura still simmering in near silence, and the new guy—Sai—sitting down with the calculated precision of someone who had read about dining in a scroll but never done it.
He was quiet, pale, and inappropriately calm. I'd barely gotten a read on him.
Until he spoke.
"You seem tense," he said to Sakura, with the flat, clinical delivery of a man commenting on the weather.
Sai tilted his head, studying her like a specimen.
"I've read that stress in kunoichi is often tied to unresolved emotional trauma. Or romantic entanglements. Or betrayal by a trusted male figure."
Naruto blinked at him. "Uh... bro, what?"
A waitress brought water and the menus. That distracted the blonde from his question, but Sai was not done. We hadn't even touched the menus when Sai leaned toward me and sniffed.
"You're fatigued," he said.
I blinked.
"Little," I admitted. "Long day."
"You engaged in sexual activity," he added blandly.
Naruto choked on his water.
Sakura perked up.
... what the fuck.
Sai tilted his head, curious. "Did you copulate today?"
"Dude!" Naruto sputtered. "You can't just say stuff like that!"
Yeah, tell him, Naruto!Because frankly, I don't seem to find words myself.
Sai tilted his head, still utterly calm. "His chakra is erratic and poorly distributed across his tenketsu. That is typically a result of recent rapture. Possibly multiple. Chakra recovery is slower in those cases. There is also odor of bodily fluids."
... what the fucking fuck.
This guy... was scarier than I gave him credit for.
Sakura's knuckles whitened around her glass. She didn't speak, didn't look at me.
Naruto jabbed a finger at me. "I knew it! You are Pervert Number Two!"
I brought a hand to my face. Not to hide. Just... to collect myself.
"Remind me," I said slowly, "to talk to whoever taught you tableside manners."
I sighed. Then, trying to keep it cool, I started pouring sauce into the little dish at the side of the grill.
Sai blinked slowly, then looked at Naruto. "You witnessed intercourse?"
"I didn't mean to!" Naruto snapped, misunderstanding, his cheeks red. "He was just—there! And she was—ugh! It was traumatizing!"
Sakura took a long sip of water. Her eyes didn't leave the table. But she was listening. Burning.
Sai turned back to me. "So you're sexually active."
I placed a strip of beef on the grill. The fat sizzled. I watched it bubble.
"Observation confirmed," Sai muttered.
"Why is this even a thing?!" Naruto threw his hands up. "Can we just eat?!"
Nobody answered. The smoke rose between us, thin and bitter.
Sakura still hadn't touched her menu.