Naruto sat on the floor, legs folded, back already sore, hands supporting his chin as he tried his very best not to fall asleep. Iruka-sensei stood at the blackboard, sketching a rough diagram of the chakra network. A bunch of squiggly lines and dots meant to represent the body's internal system of spiritual and physical energy flow. To Naruto, it looked more like spaghetti being eaten by ants.
"So," Iruka said with a pointer, tapping the figure's belly, "chakra coils are densely concentrated along the spine and major tenketsu points. That's why chakra control training usually starts with—"
"Uuuuughhh, I'm dying!" Naruto moaned, leaning so far back he nearly fell over. "This is worse than D-rank missions!"
Iruka chuckled, unfazed. "Come on now, Naruto. If you want to be Hokage, you need to master this stuff. Precision chakra control separates a brute from a true shinobi leader."
"I already have Kurama's chakra and Sage Mode! I don't need to know the difference between a third-level coil and a left-kidney point!" he whined.
Iruka raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you think you'll always have those to rely on?"
Naruto shut his mouth. Iruka had a way of saying things that slapped harder than any Rasengan.
Iruka smiled and leaned against the desk. "By the way... I meant to ask. How's it going, you and Sasuke?"
Naruto perked up slightly. "Uh... good? I guess. We're kinda... awkward. She's being weird. Like, suddenly bossy."
Iruka tilted his head, amused. "Well, that was inevitable. Women change after marriage."
Naruto nearly choked. "Bruh, she beat me this morning. And electrocuted me! I've got a burn mark near my neck!"
Iruka blinked, suddenly serious. "Wait. What happened? Don't tell me... Naruto, you weren't forcing anything on her, were you?"
"WHAT?!" Naruto stood up so fast the floor creaked. "Do I look like a beast to you?!"
Iruka rubbed his chin. "I don't know. You're a young man. Hot blood. A little... impulsive. It wouldn't surprise me if you lost control."
Naruto sat back down, stiff, jaw clenched. He remembered.
The morning had been chaos. He had woken up with his arm hugged tightly between Sasuke's legs and torso, a soft warmth and the pressure of her body still lingering in his bones. He hadn't meant to fall asleep like that. He hadn't meant to touch her.
And yet...
The moment her thigh brushed against him, Naruto Jr., who had absolutely no moral compass of his own—had... responded.
Just remembering that moment of electricity shooting up his spine made Naruto's entire face flush beet red. Not just his face. His ears. His neck. Even his arms seemed to blush.
Iruka watched the color rise and frowned. "Naruto?"
Naruto scrambled for words. "A-as if! No way! Sasuke's my best friend! I can't think about her in that way, believe it!"
In his head, Kurama groaned.
"Your dick says otherwise. You're such a masochist. Getting turned on by an Uchiha sitting on you like a throne. Disgraceful."
Naruto mentally gritted his teeth. Shut up, Furball!
Iruka gave him a long, searching look, then sighed. "Well, just... be careful. She's been through a lot. Treat her well."
"Yeah, yeah," Naruto muttered. "I know."
"Good," Iruka said with finality. "Now back to the chakra coil lesson—"
Naruto groaned. "Uuuugh."
"Focus!"
And Naruto slumped forward onto the floor, murmuring, "Kill me now…"
Meanwhile, in the quiet apartment back home, Sasuke sat cross-legged on the couch, nursing a cup of tea and rereading the same page of her book for the third time.
Her thoughts weren't on the book.
They were on the bed. The morning. Him.
Stupid, stupid Naruto. And his stupid arm. And the stupid way he looked surprised and soft and so warm.
She turned the page, again, not seeing a single word.
Her cheeks warmed.
Idiot.
—T~T—
Naruto hadn't even stepped fully out of the classroom when the stampede began.
"UZUMAKI-SENPAI!"
Dozens of Academy kids swarmed him like a pack of excited squirrels. Some were shouting, some tugging at his sleeve, others jumping up and down with notebooks and pens in hand. The hallway became a flood of chaos with Naruto at its center.
"Show us a kick!"
"Do a spin! You're the hero of the war!"
"Punch through the wall!"
Naruto sweatdropped. "Eh?! Why would I punch through a wall?! That's vandalism!"
"But you're Naruto Uzumaki!" a small boy with a crooked headband shouted. "We saw your fight with Pain in the historical archives!"
"Yeah, yeah! And you did that cool Rasengan jump-kick in the movie version!"
Naruto scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Y'know, that was mostly dramatized…"
But it was too late. He was boxed in by eager eyes and eagerer shouts.
"Alright, alright!" he said, grinning with a defeated shrug. "Watch closely!"
He launched into a few smooth Taijutsu movements, nothing serious, just some fluid kicks, turns, a sweeping leg sweep, and a palm-thrust that stopped an inch from the wall. The kids gasped. A few clapped. One fainted. Overreaction level: 100.
"Senpai's so cool…"
"Do you train with Lady Sasuke every day?!"
Naruto blinked. "Uh, yeah—well, not every day…"
A loud whisper rippled through the crowd:
"Is it true she calls you darling at home?"
"I heard she calls him Goshujin-sama and makes 18 different ramen flavors for breakfast!"
"She's a housewife now, right? Always in an apron with a ladle?"
Naruto's eye twitched. Where the hell were they getting this garbage?
He raised both hands. "Okay, okay: hold up. None of that's true. We're just adjusting, alright? It's complicated. We respect each other's space and boundaries."
A long groan came from the crowd.
"So boring…"
"You're lame, Senpai."
Naruto tried to laugh it off. "Sorry for being normal?"
A girl in the back, no older than 11, raised her hand innocently. "Do you think Lady Sasuke is sexy?"
Naruto's brain immediately short-circuited.
"Wha— What kinda question is that?! Who raised you kids?!"
Some of them giggled, others just stared, awaiting an answer like reporters at a press conference.
Luckily, salvation came in the form of a tall figure in a long-sleeved jacket and shades.
"Time for class," said Shino Aburame, voice calm and utterly monotone.
The kids sighed and shuffled off, clearly disappointed the entertainment portion of their day was over.
Naruto gave a grateful thumbs-up. "Thanks, Shino."
Shino adjusted his glasses. "You're lucky I was assigned hall monitoring today. Children are like moths to a flame when it comes to celebrity."
"Yeah... tell me about it." Naruto rubbed the back of his neck. "How do you even work here without losing your mind?"
"I raise insects for company."
Naruto opened his mouth. Closed it. Nodded. "Fair."
With the crowd gone, he finally exhaled and straightened his jacket. "Alright. Time to head to the Hokage's office."
As he stepped out of the Academy gates and onto the sunny road, the image of Sasuke's face flashed in his mind,not the stoic glare she usually gave him, but the look she'd had this morning, sleep-ruffled and furious, straddling him and radiating Rinnegan-infused homicide.
Naruto shook his head hard.
Focus, idiot. You've got more important things to worry about. Like speaking to Kakashi-sensei about the Uchiha Clan compounds. Sasuke had finally agreed, and if they didn't act soon, the place might get swallowed up by Konoha's ever-hungry urban planners.
He sighed again.
Marriage sure is complicated.
Naruto barged into the Hokage's office like he always did—no knocking, no warning, just full-volume presence.
"Yo, Kakashi-sensei!"
Inside, Kakashi Hatake sat behind his desk, half-buried in paperwork, as usual. Across from him stood Shikamaru and Temari, mid-discussion with maps and documents spread across the table. Naruto's hand paused mid-wave as his gaze settled on Temari. His brows drew together.
"…Temari? You're here again?"
She glanced at him, unimpressed. "Good to see you too, Naruto."
Naruto blinked. "I mean—you've been coming to Konoha like, what, twice a month lately?"
Temari crossed her arms. "It's called diplomacy. I represent the Kazekage."
"And Shikamaru's your… tour guide?" Naruto asked, smirking as he saw the faint blush crawling up Shikamaru's neck.
Shikamaru coughed, avoiding eye contact. "It's just my job. Liaisons and whatnot."
Naruto grinned wider. "Right. Liaisons. Sure. Definitely not personal."
Temari raised a brow but didn't deny it. Naruto's eyes sparkled. He'd been married for only two days, but apparently, that was enough to develop an expert's intuition.
Still, he didn't butt in. Whatever diplomatic business they had was above his pay grade right now, and he had something important of his own to discuss. So, he sat on the couch near the back of the room and waited.
To kill time, Naruto wandered over to the tall bookshelf behind Kakashi's desk. The old wood shelves were loaded with scrolls, logs, historical documents… and, of course, a shrine of thick orange-covered volumes with a red spine: the Icha Icha series. Jiraiya's legendary perverted masterpieces.
Naruto sighed.
"All of them, huh…" he muttered, trailing a finger across the spines. "You really loved his books, huh, Kakashi-sensei…"
He had copies of his own, Jiraiya had insisted on gifting them to his "godson" as some twisted form of inheritance. Not that Naruto enjoyed reading them. But they were… informative. In weird ways. And occasionally useful when dealing with people like Konohamaru.
Then, with a quiet shuffle, he turned to the row of Hokage portraits above the bookcase.
Hashirama grinned like he was everyone's uncle. Tobirama scowled like the artist had offended him personally. Hiruzen's was a photograph, he looked like he'd just caught someone sneaking dango and was proud of it. Naruto's dad, Minato, smiled nervously, like he didn't know what to do with his hands. And Tsunade—
"Man," Naruto muttered, "she looks like she's about to punch someone."
Kakashi's own portrait hung above them all, freshly painted. Calm. Simple. 80% of his face was the mask.
"Pretty on-brand," Naruto said.
"You done judging the dead and emotionally scarred?" Temari asked, drawing his attention.
Naruto turned just as she approached, arms crossed again. She gave him a once-over and then her eyes narrowed at the base of his neck.
"Hm." She grabbed him by the collar. "Didn't see this last time."
Naruto looked confused. "What—?"
Temari smirked. "That burn mark. Real smooth married life, huh?"
She let go, then leaned in slightly. "I always knew you were a little masochist. Guess Lady Sasuke brings it out in you."
"W-What?!" Naruto spluttered, red-faced.
Temari turned, sauntering toward the door. "I'm telling Gaara."
"Don't you dare!"
"Already imagining the headline: 'War Hero Turns Doormat: Uchiha Dominance Confirmed.'"
Shikamaru sighed deeply, muttering, "Troublesome…" before trailing after her.
As the door shut, Naruto flopped onto the couch, groaning. "That woman's got a scary imagination…"
Kakashi leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. "So. Tell me."
"Tell you what?" Naruto narrowed his eyes.
Kakashi's visible eye twinkled. "How's married life, hmm?"
Naruto crossed his arms. "Normal."
"Any sleepless nights?"
"Define sleepless."
"Any… heated exchanges?" Kakashi asked, with the tone of someone who definitely wanted the dirty details.
Naruto's face turned beet red. "W-Why would I tell you that?!"
Kakashi shrugged. "It's my job to ensure my ninja's mental stability. And, let's be honest, I'm your godfather's best friend. It's practically a family tradition."
"You're disgusting."
Kakashi nodded solemnly. "So I've been told."
Naruto leaned back, grumbling. "Sasuke nearly killed me this morning. Does that count?"
"I mean, depending on the context—"
"Nope! Not talking about it!"
"Mm-hm."
"Seriously, it's weird. She's… kind of bossy now. Like, she's always been strict, but this is a whole new level."
"Well, that was inevitable," Kakashi said wisely. "Women change after marriage."
Naruto muttered, "She electrocuted me, sensei…"
Kakashi paused. "...So she's channeling her grief into lightning jutsu. That's progress."
"Is it?!"
"Of course. At least she's opening up."
Naruto looked like he was rethinking every choice he'd made in life.
Kakashi chuckled, then pulled a brown folder from the stack on his desk and slid it across the table.
"Anyway," he said. "I figured you'd come about this sooner or later."
Naruto blinked. "What's this?"
Kakashi gestured toward the cover. "Uchiha Clan Compounds. I secured the rights and zoning weeks ago, just in case."
Naruto stared, stunned. "You… already took care of it?"
Kakashi eye-smiled. "I had a feeling."
Naruto grabbed the folder and flipped through it. Detailed maps, household inventories, zoning permissions, preservation orders, it was all in order.
"There are forty-seven houses," Kakashi explained, "including the Naka Shrine and the river district. Everything's still in excellent condition. You can move in whenever you're ready."
Naruto gaped. "You're amazing, Kakashi-sensei!"
"I know."
Naruto laughed, loud and genuine, pressing the folder to his chest like it was a treasure.
He thought of Sasuke, her quiet resolve when she offered to reclaim the home she'd once fled. Maybe this was one step closer to healing, for both of them.
Yeah. This would be their start.
—T~T—
The sky outside was painted orange and lilac as Naruto stepped into the dim apartment, tired but light-hearted after the long day. He kicked off his sandals with a lazy hop and glanced around, quiet, still, warm with a strange peace.
His eyes found Sasuke almost instantly.
She sat curled up on the couch, a book in her hand, a soft blue gown draped over her like a second skin. Different from the one this morning: this one was deeper in shade, making her look oddly regal despite the worn-down surroundings. Her hair, dark as raven feathers, shimmered subtly under the faint lamp glow. The scent in the air was unmistakable—jasmine, clean and bright. His brows twitched with interest.
"Hey, Sasuke," he said as he stepped in, pulling off his jacket. "You smell nice. Did you go out today?"
She didn't look up from her book. "Yes."
He raised a brow. "Ah. That would explain the jasmine. You bought oil?"
"No. I stole it," she said blandly.
"What—"
"From the store shelf. Into the cart. Then paid for it. That's how stealing works."
Naruto huffed. "Cute. Real funny. You could be a comedian."
"You're late," she said simply, flipping a page.
"Aww," Naruto stepped closer, grinning. "Were you missing me? Such a nice, caring wifey—"
"No," she cut in smoothly. "I'm glad you were late. Keeps the place calm."
"Ouch," Naruto clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me, my queen."
She finally looked up, raising an unimpressed brow.
He laughed and reached into his bag. "Okay, okay, I surrender. But! Look what I've got!"
He handed her an envelope. Sasuke set the book aside, took the envelope without a word, and opened it.
Her eyes moved over the papers slowly. Then—her breath caught, just slightly. Her fingers tightened on the edge. Her face didn't betray much, but Naruto had known her long enough to catch that softened gaze, the brief hitch in her breath. It meant something.
"I see," she murmured, then quietly folded the papers back inside. "We'll move out tomorrow."
Naruto blinked. "Wait, already? Tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"But—" he looked around the apartment. "I mean, yeah, this place is a dump, but moving needs, like, time and stuff—"
"This place is dirty," she said flatly, ticking off her fingers as she spoke. "Has roaches. Mice. The sink doesn't work. The toilet flushes halfway. Water smells of arsenic. No wardrobe or closet space. The furniture has bed bugs. There's no proper kitchen. Only one bedroom. No TV. No radio. No light. And only one bathroom."
Naruto stared at her, slowly wilting under the barrage.
"Okay, okay! I get it, geez! It's a hellhole!" he sighed. "Still, we'll need to get furniture, right? It's not gonna happen in a day—"
"Then use shadow clones," she said calmly.
Naruto blinked. "…That's a good idea, bastard. I mean—uh, Sasuke."
"Hn."
She stood and moved toward the kitchen. "Get freshened up."
"I don't like salad," he called after her, frowning. "I'm hungry. I could really go for some dumplings or ramen or—"
She turned her head, Sharingan just barely flickering in her left eye. "Get freshened up. I have cooked salad."
Naruto raised his hands in surrender. "…Right. Salad it is."
He shuffled toward the bathroom, grumbling under his breath. But there was a strange, bubbling warmth in his chest. The way she took charge so easily. The way she'd said we'll move instead of I'll move.
We.
It had only been two days, and they were still a mess of awkward silences and strange conversations, burnt rice and electric shocks, bruised pride and bruised throats.
But somehow, this was working. Somehow, it felt like something real.
Even if dinner was salad.
—T~T—
It was still dark outside when Sasuke stirred awake, eyes blinking open to the faint hum of the city yet to rise. The apartment was silent, save for Naruto's gentle snoring in the bedroom down the narrow hall. The clock read 4:02 AM. She sat up from the couch, blanket falling from her legs.
She hadn't slept well: not because the couch was uncomfortable (which it was), but because something churned in her chest. Anticipation.
Today, she would return to the Uchiha Compound. Home. After all these years.
She didn't want to waste a second.
She padded quietly to the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft click. The mirror reflected her face: no longer that cold, vengeful girl. A woman now. Her fingers gently traced her bandaged synthetic arm before she peeled away her nightgown and stepped into the hot shower.
The water steamed up fast, heat scalding against her skin—but she didn't complain. She let it roll down her body in long, slow rivulets. For the first time in a while, she felt something like…excitement. Her eyes closed, and for a moment, she imagined the cracked stones of the compound paths, the silent rooms of her old home. She could almost hear the creak of the floorboards, her mother's voice calling for dinner.
When she stepped out, steam billowed around her. She wrapped a towel around herself and lifted a hand, forming a simple seal. A small gust of air circled her head: her Wind Release drying her hair swiftly.
She selected one of her mother's old gowns: purple with a high collar and a ribboned waist. Slipping into it, she looked elegant and almost fragile in the mirror's hazy surface. Satisfied, she stepped out of the bathroom, bare feet soft against the cool floor.
Sasuke moved toward the bedroom quietly. The door was slightly ajar. Naruto lay on the bed; spread out like a defeated shinobi after a mission, blanket half-tangled around one leg, hair messier than ever, mouth slightly open. A string of drool trailed onto the pillow.
Utterly ungraceful.
And yet… weirdly adorable.
She leaned against the doorframe, watching him. Her Sharingan spun to life almost subconsciously, recording every tiny twitch of his face, every slow rise and fall of his chest. She remembered the wedding ceremony, the brief, stunned kiss she had given him when the priest insisted on sealing the bond. He hadn't even moved, just gone cross-eyed in surprise.
She didn't regret that kiss. In fact, thinking back, it had been... amusing.
She crept closer, one step, then another, until she was hovering over him. A strange flutter danced in her chest. The tips of her fingers brushed her hair behind her ear. Just a little closer…
Her eyes closed.
Then—
"Nnnh… Sasuke?"
She froze. Her heart leapt to her throat.
She opened her eyes in pure horror.
Naruto, bleary-eyed, blinked up at her, still half-dreaming. "What are you doing?"
Sasuke's face went beet red, panic flashing through her like a lightning strike. "I—uh—I was just—!"
Her words died in her throat.
Red flared in her vision. Her Sharingan spun rapidly, then shifted into the elegant pattern of the Eternal Mangekyō. "Tsukuyomi," she muttered without thinking.
Naruto's eyes fluttered shut instantly.
She exhaled hard, hands trembling as she backed away, her whole body glowing like a furnace. "Baka, baka, baka, baka," she hissed under her breath. "Why did he have to wake up?!"
She turned away, arms crossed, seething and flustered. Her lips were pressed into a hard line, until they curled slightly into a smirk.
His loss, she thought.
He missed a kiss from her.
Still… if he's already in a coma, might as well punish him.
Sasuke turned back, knelt by the bed again. Her fingers brushed the edge of his pillow. She hesitated, then leaned forward, slowly, deliberately. Her breath mingled with his. Her lips met his in the barest touch—soft, feather-light, almost reverent.
Then, something in her broke.
She pressed harder, kissing him more firmly. There was warmth, electricity—a rush of heat that started in her chest and surged down to her toes. Her hands gripped the blanket. When she pulled away, her breathing was shaky, heart pounding in her ears.
There. Now he's properly punished. They are both legally adults and married, he should deserve nothing less.
She got up, adjusting her gown, and walked toward the kitchen, calm once again.
Unaware of the silent spectator inside Naruto's head.
Inside the sealed cage within the depths of Naruto's subconscious, Kurama's nine tails bristled with utter disgust.
This is the lowest I have ever seen a human stoop, the Nine-Tailed Fox grumbled. Assaulting a boy in his sleep? With Genjutsu, no less. Uchiha women are demons. Literal demons.
He buried his face into his tails with a loud snort.
Disgusting. Absolutely revolting. And what's worse… the idiot enjoyed it.
Kurama sighed, resigned.
And thus, Naruto Uzumaki, Hero of the Fourth Great Shinobi War, savior of the world, Hokage-in-training, was officially assaulted in his coma by his tsundere wife.
And he would wake up none the wiser.
—T~T—
Naruto woke up with a dull, persistent headache. His eyelids felt like sandpaper, and his mouth—he grimaced.
"Ugh... I feel like I got hit in the face by Madara's gunbai..." he muttered, dragging his palm across his face. His tongue felt oddly thick, sticky, like it had been coated in something. And—"Why does my mouth taste like toothpaste? I didn't even brush yet..."
Still bleary, he sat up slowly, mind foggy and oddly sluggish. There was something nagging at the edge of his thoughts, like a dream he couldn't remember but left an imprint behind. He frowned and reached out internally.
"Kurama? You there?"
Silence.
"Kurama?"
Still nothing. Not even a snort. That wasn't like him.
"…What happened last night?"
The silence was deafening. Then, the faintest rustle of tails. "Don't ask."
"…What?"
"I said don't ask, you miserable idiot. I'm still trying to bleach the memory from my mind."
"…What the hell does that mean—?"
"EAT YOUR BREAKFAST."
Naruto blinked, confused and mildly disturbed. "Weirdo," he muttered, rubbing his stomach and stumbling out of the bedroom.
The living room was already bathed in early morning light. Sasuke stood near the shelf, boxing books into a plain brown box, her expression unreadable as always. Her long dark hair was tied loosely back, and she wore that same old purple gown that somehow made her look like both a shinobi and a noblewoman. The apartment was a mess of half-packed boxes—books, scrolls, kunai pouches, a few clothes neatly folded. Honestly, not that they owned much. No furniture worth taking, no luxuries. Just basics.
She glanced at him as he entered.
"Morning, Sasuke," he greeted, yawning.
She didn't respond at first, just pointed silently toward the dining table. "I made eggfry. Eat and help me pack."
Naruto rubbed his stomach again and made a face. "Eggfry? That's so boring... Ramen is peak. I'm eating ramen instead."
Sasuke said nothing.
He walked to the cabinets and pulled one open.
Empty.
His brow twitched. He checked another one. Still empty. A frown started forming on his face as he opened the familiar instant ramen box that usually overflowed with flavor packets of joy.
It was empty too.
"…Sasuke?" His voice came out slow, disbelieving. "Where is my ramen?"
"Thrown away."
He stared at her, frozen. "…What?"
"Those were expired," she replied plainly, sliding another scroll into a box. "You're lucky the fox keeps purging your system. You shouldn't even be alive."
Naruto's face contorted in horror. "Sasuke—how could you?! That ramen was my pride! My soul! It was with me through pain and poverty! And you—!"
"I only threw away the ones that were expired." She finally turned to face him fully, hands on her hips. "The special ones—Ichiraku's limited editions, the ones you were hoarding like a dragon—I packed those."
He paused.
"…Really?"
She gave him a curt nod.
His eyes lit up like the sun. "You're the best, Sasuke!!" he said, rushing toward her with arms wide and scooping her into a sudden hug.
"Wha—Naruto—!" Her cheeks flushed a light pink as she stiffened in his arms. She pushed at his chest, grumbling, "Don't touch me out of nowhere, idiot."
He let go, grinning like a fool. "You saved my ramen stash. That means I owe you one. I'm totally naming my firstborn after you now."
"I will personally gouge your eyes out if you do."
"Heh, classic Sasuke."
She rolled her eyes, the faint tint of color still on her cheeks as she turned back to the boxes. "Eat quickly. We've got a lot to do today. Move-in starts after eight."
"Yes ma'am!" Naruto gave a mock salute and plopped down at the table, looking at the plate of hot eggfry. It was simple—fried eggs with a hint of salt and pepper, chopped scallions, and a drizzle of sesame oil.
He took a bite.
Not bad.
Actually, kinda good.
Not ramen, but… definitely made with care.
He chewed slowly, looking toward Sasuke's back as she worked in silence, packing away the last of their old life into those cardboard boxes. She didn't say much, but he could tell—today meant something to her.
She was going home. The Uchiha Compound, once abandoned, would breathe again.
Maybe this marriage, this mess of a setup, this confusing friendship-between-marriage-between-rivalry... maybe it was the start of something not so terrible.
He took another bite and smiled softly to himself.
Even without ramen, mornings like these might just be okay.
—T~T—
Naruto, flanked by an army of shadow clones, trudged along the road toward the Uchiha Clan compound, balancing boxes on each arm, on his shoulders, and even on his head. Sweat rolled down his face as he groaned under the weight.
"Man… I thought having clones would make this easy," he grumbled.
"Then why did you summon us?" one of the clones shot back, shifting a heavy box labeled "Weapons – Sasuke's – Do Not Touch."
"Because she'll murder me if I drop even one of her books," Naruto snapped, and the clone nodded grimly. It understood the stakes.
Meanwhile, Sasuke had taken the shortcut through the lesser-traveled alleys and rooftops, smoothly navigating away from the main streets, her form flickering between shadows and sunlight. She didn't want the attention. It wasn't the fear of the public, Sasuke feared nothing, but the sheer discomfort of being watched: as an SSS-ranked ex-missing-nin, a war criminal, a war hero… and now, most annoyingly, the wife of the Seventh Hokage.
She was sure the ANBU trailing behind her were grumbling too, she had seen to it that they carried all the things she had bought from the market: toiletries, kitchenware, a new tea kettle, and three potted herbs. They didn't protest. They weren't supposed to. She, after all, wasn't technically leaving their supervision, merely relocating within it. It wasn't her fault they didn't anticipate carrying her shopping bags like pack mules.
Her thoughts lingered on the phrase that had reached her ears a few times as she passed stalls: "Mrs. Uzumaki."
She clicked her tongue in annoyance.
Mrs. Uzumaki? No thank you. She was Sasuke Uchiha. Her name held history, tragedy, pride, and power. She hadn't changed it, wouldn't change it. Yet, she touched her chest lightly, there was a strange warmth at the idea. The idiot's name clung to her now, attached by duty, by fate, by fire.
She brushed aside the memory of that morning, the blush creeping up again as her lips tingled at the thought. Toothpaste and ramen. Why did she even remember the flavor so precisely? And why the hell had she kissed him while he was comatose?
Baka.
She blinked it all away as the towering walls of the Uchiha compound finally came into view.
Her steps slowed.
This was… home.
No, it had been.
The grand wooden gate was still intact, its black frame dusted with time but lovingly preserved. The Uchiha fan crest stood proudly in the center, untouched by war or decay. As she walked through it, the familiar stone path greeted her—each footfall echoing with ghosts of a life long lost.
She clenched her fists and held her breath. The air here smelled of stillness, dust, memory. It almost made her knees buckle. But she didn't break. She couldn't—not now.
"Over there," she barked at the ANBU, gesturing toward the main house. "Place the bags by the engawa. And you—don't scratch that kettle."
They obeyed without question.
Inside, the house had been cleaned—someone had done their job well. The tatami mats were dust-free, the shoji doors slid smoothly, and the wooden floors had been recently polished. Still, the place was empty, haunted with silence and echo. No signs of laughter, no clatter of chopsticks, no smell of her mother's simmered hijiki.
Just… cold space.
She knelt by the genkan and placed her hand on the wooden floor. The wood was warm with the summer sun. But still not quite home.
She heard the clones before she saw them, loud, arguing, and chaotic.
"I told you to hold it from the bottom!"
"I am holding it from the bottom—your bottom!"
"Guys, come on! The box says 'fragile,' and that probably means Sasuke's stuff!"
Then Naruto appeared, sweat dripping down his brow, a huge grin on his face as he struggled with two massive boxes. "Yo! We made it!"
He kicked off his sandals with the elegance of a hurricane and stumbled inside. "Sasuke, this place is huge! I didn't even know there were so many houses back here!"
Sasuke gave him a brief glance. "It's a clan compound. Of course, it's big."
He set the boxes down with a relieved groan. "Man, I don't know how you survived living here. All this space and no ramen shop in walking distance. Tragic."
"It was peaceful," she said softly, not looking at him.
Naruto paused. He looked at her then, really looked. Her shoulders were a little tense, her eyes distant. There was something fragile in the way she stood at the center of this empty house, dressed in her mother's gown, hair tied loose, like a lone survivor finally returning to a ruined temple.
He wanted to say something, but didn't. He didn't have to.
She turned back to him and snapped, "Stop staring and help unpack."
"There's the Sasuke I know," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "I'll get the kitchen stuff set up. My clones are handling the rest."
"Good. And keep your clone from touching my undergarments this time or I'll stab you."
"Eh-heh... noted."
The place was slowly coming alive. The kitchen had the kettle boiling. The sliding doors were opened to let in the light. The boxes were sorted—his clothes, her scrolls, his spare headbands, her medicinal herbs. One room at a time, the home of the Uchiha began to feel less abandoned.
By late afternoon, the house was no longer empty.
There were cups in the cupboard. Rice and tea on the shelf. Two toothbrushes by the sink. Her fan and his frog wallet shared a drawer. Her sword stood near his old sage coat. It was awkward, imperfect, but it was theirs.
Their new home.
Or perhaps, her old home reborn.
Naruto stood at the engawa, stretching and smiling up at the sky. "I think this'll be good, y'know?"
Sasuke joined him silently, eyes scanning the familiar garden. Her gaze softened.
"…Yeah," she murmured. "Maybe."
Just maybe.
Naruto's clones dashed back and forth, lugging furniture, hammering nails, hoisting shelves, and arguing amongst themselves as if they weren't born from the same chakra stream. It was a chaotic symphony of grunts, clonish complaints, and heavy thuds echoing through the once-hollow hallways of the old Uchiha house.
He'd picked this house—close to Sasuke's childhood home but far enough from the shadows of the past. It had been renovated just before the massacre, then sealed and forgotten. Its bones were untouched by bloodshed. Now it was getting a new chance.
An electrician crew, half-spooked by ANBU presence, was threading new wiring through the old wooden walls, muttering about antique structures and fire hazards. Naruto supervised while wiping sweat from his brow, giving cheerful nods and helping where he could, though more often than not, he was mistaken for just another clone.
Meanwhile, Sasuke stood in the kitchen, sleeves tied up to her elbows, organizing dishes and utensils in quiet, efficient movements. She'd taken to the space like she'd always known it—the cupboards were older, sure, and the sink groaned with age, but it was clean, functional, and slowly becoming hers.
The scent of new beginnings clung to the air—soap, polish, cardboard, a hint of detergent. Still, beneath all that, the house whispered memories she didn't want to touch. She let her mind focus instead on plates and spice jars.
The layout was generous: four bedrooms (two upstairs), a cozy living room with wide windows, a spacious kitchen, two bathrooms, a long hallway, and a quiet study. There was even a terrace overlooking the courtyard, where plants from Shino now stood like silent green guardians, and a big yard where Naruto swore he'd set up a small training post "just in case."
Sasuke appreciated the idea of sharing space—more than she admitted. Sharing a house with him was already... strange in a warm way. Sharing a bedroom, though?
Her pride scoffed at the thought. No.
So, two rooms it was. She'd claimed the upstairs one on the left. Naruto, without protest, took the one beside hers.
Their friends, Naruto's friends, had sent over more than expected. In true Leaf fashion, they showed up in waves of well-meaning, half-teasing generosity.
Choji's contribution had nearly floored her. The entire kitchen setup—rice cooker, pots, pans, knives, and even a top-tier microwave, had been purchased on his coin. When Naruto had thanked him, Choji just waved it off. "It's an investment. Feed the Hokage well."
Shikamaru, unsurprisingly, had paid for the study room setup. A desk, a few shelves, reading lamps, and even a proper chair Naruto immediately spun in circles until Sasuke smacked his head.
Shino had given plants. Of course he had. All kinds, indoor, outdoor, medicinal, aromatic. They now sat by the windows, near the genkan, by the bathroom sink. Quiet, green, and alive.
Ino sent over a full-length dresser and wardrobe, sleek and clearly expensive. Naruto claimed both without shame, stuffing his frog wallet, socks, and spare kunai into the drawers before Sasuke could object. "I have more stuff than you!" he argued. He was wrong, but louder, so he won.
TenTen and Lee showed up together with a sofa set wrapped in ribbons and motivational messages scrawled on the cardboard. It was hideous. Sasuke hated it. Naruto loved it. So they kept it.
Kiba's gift was... confusing at first. Boxes of decorative items, all labeled "Cool Stuff." There were throw pillows shaped like ninja tools, wooden wall hangings, a handmade wind chime, and one framed quote that read, "Hokage is temporary. Dogs are forever." Naruto hung it over the bathroom door. Sasuke considered destroying it daily.
Then there was Sakura.
She came in like a storm—bright, pink, bossy. She'd brought with her a brand-new fridge and washing machine, both carried in on the back of an ox-cart like sacred offerings.
"You're both hopeless," she said, hands on hips, eyes rolling. "You'll thank me later."
Naruto stood beside her, watching in awe as the washing machine made its first spin. "Sakura-chan, this thing is amazing! I just put the clothes in and poof, clean!"
Sasuke stood in the hallway, arms crossed, watching from the shadows. Something in her stomach twisted—not quite anger, not quite sadness. She wasn't sure. Sakura looked too comfortable next to him. Smiled too easily. Touched his arm too casually.
Ridiculous.
She turned away.
Naruto called out, "Hey, Sasuke! Come check out how this thing spins!" He was pointing at the washer like it was the greatest ninjutsu ever invented.
"I know how it works," she replied curtly.
"Oh," he blinked, a little deflated.
Sakura raised an eyebrow at Sasuke and then smirked. Sasuke resisted the urge to punch something. Later, after Sakura had left, she went and reorganized the laundry room entirely.
The sun was dipping low when the clones started vanishing one by one, their jobs done. The couch was in place. Books were on shelves. The kettle in the kitchen was humming.
Sasuke stood at the entrance to the hallway, arms folded, watching Naruto lay on the sofa with a tired groan, limbs spread out like he'd been hit by a jutsu.
"It's done," he mumbled. "Our house... is set."
Sasuke didn't correct him.
She just nodded, "Tomorrow, you'll help with the yard."
Naruto groaned again. "You're a tyrant."
She smirked. "You married me."
He cracked an eye open and grinned. "Best terrible decision I ever made."
She turned away to hide her smile. The house was starting to feel lived in. Not quite home yet... but it was getting there.