"Where there is no complete frankness, no complete trust,
where even the slightest thing is hidden,
there is and cannot be friendship."
V. G. Belinsky
Sasuke was born into a great clan where mental calm and strength of spirit were passed down from generation to generation, from father to son. His brother always taught him to be patient and rational: Itachi said that in battle, observers win first—those who spot enemy weaknesses and strike them immediately. He was raised with the understanding that a shinobi's career comes first, and a Uchiha clan member cannot be a failure.
Sasuke didn't resist; he always tried to follow the rules. His father's approval was the most valuable thing to the boy. Uchiha wanted him to say as often as possible how proud he was. For recognition, Sasuke ignored all the clingy girls, refused to hang out with classmates, and studied the fireball day and night to impress Dad.
Seeing the example of his genius older brother, who graduated the Academy in just a year and was revered and respected by all clan members, he couldn't allow himself to be worse. But despite all his persistent efforts, no one took him as seriously.
Fugaku and Itachi rarely paid him attention, as they held high positions and were often busy, gently hinting for Sasuke to train on his own.
If at first it hurt and he felt deep resentment and pain that the two biggest authorities in his life didn't notice him, later he confidently decided: surpass his brother and, when he grew up, join the Konoha police.
The younger Uchiha's trainings always passed in oppressive silence, but despite that, he flatly refused to make friends at the Academy. He considered all the boys in his class weak, and didn't take the girls seriously. To him, they were almost decorations simply moving in space behind him. No matter how you look at it, the heir of the strongest clan looked down on them, and even felt contempt for some.
But all his worldview shattered against the wall of harsh reality on that fateful day when, returning home from training in the evening, he saw cold corpses of his clansmen instead of the lively streets of his beloved clan. He didn't understand what happened, who did it, or where he was. Panic gripped the boy, and only a series of explosions snapped him out of hysteria.
Realizing it came from his house, he rushed forward. Crushing anxiety never left the boy the whole way. His racing mind insisted his parents were dead too, but Uchiha refused to believe it.
Screaming "Dad!" and "Mom!", Sasuke burst into the dark house. His legs shook with fear, and he didn't even know what to think. But the clang of metal from the yard behind the house forcibly brought him back to reality.
He saw his wounded father and fighting older brother, fully protecting their parents. As it turned out later, the killer was his acquaintance Hitoshi, who by "official" account killed Shisui and went mad.
Father nearly died in Mikoto and Sasuke's arms, and the boy awakened Sharingan from the stress. The remaining five surviving clan members recovered from the incident for a long time, and only after a week noticed the awakened dojutsu in the child.
Then his older brother gave him his first training on extending Sharingan use duration, and Sasuke spent whole days occasionally activating his new eyes. He already dreamed that when Father woke from the coma, he'd be prouder of him than anyone.
But naive faith didn't last long; when Father came to, he had no time for his son again. A mass of urgent matters after hospital discharge left no chance for the younger heir to get attention. Sasuke thought telling about his awakened dojutsu would change everything, but Fugaku, as in old times, indifferently left, saying lastly:
"Keep it up. Then you'll become as good a ninja as your brother."
The little boy's expectations, like raging waves, crashed again on the rocky shore of father's indifference. Watching his back, Sasuke felt his dreams shattered: the clan was gone, he no longer wanted to work in Konoha police—strangers there, not his clansmen—and Itachi and Father completely stopped paying him attention, constantly telling him to train alone.
The child simply didn't understand the difficulties adults faced and how hard it was for them now, so he blamed himself, as if he was too weak, utterly useless, and would never be as special as his brother. It started seeming his mom and dad would always love Itachi more. And that made it unbearably bitter.
He no longer knew where to turn from these feelings or how to live on. Each subsequent day was worse than the last. And Sasuke probably would have completely lost faith in his father if something—or rather, someone—at the Academy hadn't distracted him.
After awakening Sharingan, he decided to read the girls' emotions at school and find out what they really felt for him and why they kept pestering him.
Hiding his Sharingan under henge, he began studying them. His classmates really were interested: many admired him, some even in love. The red-haired girl, whose name he didn't even know, felt nothing like that. She seemed to pretend with everyone for show, to blend in, which shifted Sasuke's attention from his unreliable father to her.
The boy started watching her and noticed she never smiled sincerely at anyone; all her emotions were fake. Even Naruto, whom Sasuke considered the ultimate loser, she "fed" false smirks, though they seemed to talk almost every day since the first day of school.
The guy didn't understand what this girl wanted. She mostly sat at her desk with Shikamaru or Hinata, and on breaks chatted with Naruto. Theoretically an excellent student, on practicals she got satisfactory grades like most other girls.
A couple days later, he realized he needed to tail her outside the Academy, and chose Friday, August nineteenth, 1051. It was a cloudy, windy, and quite dark day. Every minute it seemed rain would start any second. And that's exactly what the young Uchiha needed, deciding to dedicate a whole day to surveillance. Father and brother were on late missions, and he told Mom he'd be training.
In the end, Sasuke convinced himself this was also a surveillance training of sorts, since overhearing she was a sensor, he carefully hid his chakra, trying not to give himself away. But deep down, he knew he just wanted any activity to distract from the tearing feeling of worthlessness.
Jumping from roof to roof, the boy followed Ariza to the farthest, most abandoned training ground. He was surprised why she came here when there were much closer, more convenient spots.
Hiding in the foliage, he began observing her training.
First, the girl started running. After fifty laps, by Sasuke's expectations, she should have collapsed from exhaustion, but no—for her it was just a warm-up.
"What stamina!"
Wondering what exercises she'd do next, the boy expected anything but clones.
Nearly falling from the tree, he gawked, continuing to watch what this mysterious girl would show next. And the surprises didn't end there. Turns out, these clones weren't illusory ones from the program, but real ones. He'd heard of them from his brother but couldn't imagine anyone mastering such a complex jutsu.
"Impossible!" he exclaimed mentally.
Holding his breath, the kid watched on. Her clones went to throw shuriken and kunai, hitting dead center, though at the Academy she always missed targets. Sasuke couldn't figure why she failed practice at school, and the closer the sensei, the worse the result.
"Maybe she's nervous or gets scolded at home for good grades?" his thoughts raced.
When her clones started throwing kunai at each other, little Sasuke's patience snapped, and for a moment he stopped hiding his chakra. He thought a second wouldn't be enough to detect him, but the girl froze, clearly pinpointing the intruder.
Sasuke's heart skipped a beat; he fearfully hunkered down, not knowing what to do. But doubts didn't torment him long; as soon as she gathered her things and headed out, he clearly decided:
"I won't let her go," whispering it, the boy jumped from the tree.
"There are mistakes that ruin plans and cost lives. Well, it seems I just made one," I concluded silently while staring at Sasuke. "Why him of all people? Why not Naruto, not Kiba, not Choji, but Uchiha Sasuke, whom I pester at the Academy?"
My silence didn't last long. Devising a tactic, I sprang into action:
"Oh, Sasuke-kun! You're training here too?" I feigned delight, mentally adding: "'Hope he's still a silly kid and falls for it?'"
"Don't pretend! I saw everything!" the boy yelled and activated his dojutsu. His eyes burned with one-tomoe Sharingan. It looked more realistic than in anime, like they had some glow even without close inspection.
"Huh? Saw what, Sasuke-kun?" still playing dumb, I smiled. "And what's with your eyes?"
"So you know, with my clan's dojutsu I can read people's emotions! All your smiles are fake. Confess—who are you and why do you follow me!"
Sasuke stood confidently opposite me demanding explanations, as if I owed him a report. He tried to stay impassive as much as he could, but his chubby cheeks, big eyes, and cute face didn't match the serious vibe. Morally I'm about twenty, and I saw a kid first and foremost, albeit extremely smart for his age.
"The thing is..." I started, dropping the pretense. No point pretending anymore; he'd seen everything. Finita la comedia. Though I'd planned for everything, Sasuke awakening Sharingan at eight and figuring me out was unpredictable. Now the main thing was to ensure he told no one. "You're right, I have way fewer emotions. It's been like this since childhood. Seems like a clan trait," I shrugged, continuing the shameless lie: "And I was afraid of being different from everyone else. Many in class don't like me already, even though I do everything like them," I said, trying to play on pity.
"So you just befriend a loser like Naruto for no reason?"
"Not at all. Yes, fewer emotions, but that doesn't mean none. I have feelings, like loneliness and uselessness," I gave an example, noticing a glint in his black eyes. Apparently, I struck the deepest chords. "Few classmates acknowledge me. Everyone admires you, but besides Naruto, Shikamaru, and Hinata, no one wants to talk to me," I explained. Whether past life or this one, no one really wants to befriend me. Not that I need it badly, but it causes problems. Suspect it's all me. Probably too boring, serious, and arrogant. "I don't even know how familiar you are with that feeling when you crave approval and get completely ignored."
I deliberately hit the kid's sore spots. Even watching anime, I noted he lacked father's attention; older brother never had time for Sasuke either. And apparently, it was the same here. My words hurt; the boy's gaze dimmed.
"Fine..." Sasuke said resolutely. "I won't tell anyone about your real abilities if you beat me!" He stepped back and assumed a stance. "But if I win, you teach me that cloning technique!"
I blinked a couple seconds, trying to figure his angle. Does he want to brag to father and brother that badly he's willing to fight for it? And why not just ask to teach him? Why fight?
"Why? You're stronger than me—obviously," I objected.
"I'm sure, but I want to fight you! Test your abilities... and mine too."
"I'll just teach you for free," I offered, just to avoid the fight and continue training.
"I don't need handouts!"
"Hm. Fine. Then I have a condition too," I stated clearly to my future teammate. "If I win, you teach me some jutsu. I heard the Uchiha clan is famous for fire techniques."
"Hah," the boy smirked confidently. "Deal!"
We moved to the clearing's center and faced off, each glaring at the opponent.
"His taijutsu and bukijutsu surpass mine, but I'm Uzumaki, so more enduring than him. Key—not let him knock me out early; then time's on my side. Once he tires, I land a series of strikes, and victory's mine," I planned mentally.
"We fight until one can't stand," I declared firmly, and Sasuke, smirking, counted:
"One. Two... Three!"
On "three," the boy lunged at me. We clashed using only taijutsu. He punched, but seeing me block, tried a body kick.
Dodging, I crouched, forming the shadow cloning seal mid-motion.
Two of my clones appeared behind him. Bracing on my shoulder, he leaped and heel-kicked them. Grabbing his wrist, I threw him over my shoulder into the ground.
I was already winding up a finishing kick, but rolling, he sprang up, backflipped, and hurled shuriken at me.
Thanks to evasion training, I nimbly dodged most, but some grazed me.
"Has he gone mad? What if I hadn't dodged?"
I wanted to yell "No weapons," but he exploited my hesitation and slammed a foot into my gut. I flew several meters, plowing face-first into dirt, doubling over from burning pain. The strike was so strong I felt my guts.
I thought he'd at least wait for me to stand, but no. Drawing a black kunai, he charged.
"Does he want to stab me?"—feeling primal fear of being run through, I jumped up. Created about nine shadow clones and as many illusory ones. To distract him while I recovered.
In this fight, for the first time in ages, I felt faint anxiety, but stronger than any I'd had in years. Real threat to my life. It even "intoxicated" me somewhat. Made me want to feel it again.
"Is that self-preservation instinct?" I wondered as Sasuke leaped skyward, yelling across the clearing: "Fireball!" The boy exhaled a massive fiery sphere of raging flames from his mouth, instantly dispersing all my clones. This jutsu is the Uchiha clan's staple; no surprise he knows it.
"That's the technique I'll beg from him if I win," I summed up, making a new batch of shadow clones.
Landing on scorched grass, the boy charged again.
Sasuke wasn't just good at taijutsu; he was brilliant. In his style, he used hands for support and often kicked from unexpected angles. His feints outdid the whole class, and with Sharingan he predicted clone attacks and countered swiftly.
Parrying his strike with my arm, I aimed an uppercut, but Sasuke headbutted my chin first. Feeling a crunch in my mouth, I realized Uchiha knocked out a milk tooth, maybe more. I spat out the bloody teeth, and Uchiha exploited it with a tornado kick[tornado kick: jumping spinning kick.] straight to my cheek, sparks flying from my eyes.
I crashed to the ground, scratching my face and pulling a leg muscle.
"I can't fight on. Sasuke'll be faster than limping me. Is this it—I lost?"
Clones distracted him to keep him from finishing me. Somewhat recovered, I quickly substituted with a nearby clone, retreating to a tree. Kids study this technique only third year at Academy; it should be my victory key, since Sasuke's not ready for a little illusion.
The substituted clone stayed as planned, last one, drawing all attention. Sasuke definitely thinks it's the original.
The clone clashed with the boy and seconds later drew a kunai. Not to wound Uchiha, but to make him switch to cold weapons too.
As expected, Sasuke drew his weapon, and then it went per plan: trading blows, my double "accidentally" let a strike through, letting the guy plunge kunai into the clone's gut.
For seconds, the young clan heir really believed he'd stabbed me. The clone put on a show of "agonizing death" from evisceration. I exploited his daze, leaping from the tree with a precise rear strike.
The boy lost consciousness instantly, but I caught his head at the last moment so he wouldn't smash it on the ground.
Lower jaw, solar plexus, groin, and liver are most vulnerable; my strike hit the jaw—temporomandibular joint, with two small bones that knock you out on impact.
Checking his pulse and confirming he was alive, I wiped sweat from my brow and collapsed beside him, too drained to stand. Chakra was spent. I rasped raggedly, trying to catch breath, each inhale agony.
Staring at leaden thundercloud sky, I kept groaning from monstrous gut pain. Seemed like ruptured organs and broken ribs.
"And how do I explain the huge purple shiner on my face Monday? Sure Naruto won't let up till he finds out whose handiwork," flashed through my battered mind, and running tongue over lower jaw, I found two teeth missing. "No wonder he's the strongest in class. Underestimated this little genius after all," I thought before blacking out.
I don't know how long we lay like that. I woke to pouring rain. Icy drops pelted my face annoyingly, then dripped unpleasantly into ears. Shirt and pants soaked through, clammy against skin. I coughed, turning left, and saw Sasuke still motionless on cold grass. No clue how much time passed, but judging by dark sky, not just minutes.
On shaky limbs, breathing loudly, I henge'd Sasuke into a small puppy. If I stayed in rain waiting for him to wake, he'd surely get sick. And talks better in comfort.
Carrying him home—reckless, we couldn't discuss there. We're both after strength, so better if we find common ground and truce; thus I decided to bring him to mine.
At home, I immediately smelled burnt.
"Apparently when I passed out, the home-cooking clone vanished, leaving something frying on the stove," I realized and sent a new double to turn off the burner. Turned on light and sat Sasuke in a chair. "Bring oilcloth and ammonia," I called, and he fetched from kitchen.
Clone and I removed the boy's shoes and wet shirt, then toweled him dry. Once done, we laid oilcloth over the sheet so he wouldn't stain it with shorts, and put him to bed.
Checked his airways clear, jaw unbroken, then treated wounds. After all, he's beaten because of me. When all wounds were cleaned and bandaged, I covered him with blanket, soaked cotton in ammonia, and held to his nose. Seeing him grimace and stir, I left the room to change.
Returned minutes later with full first-aid kit and tea.
"Here," I handed the boy a mug while he stared at me bewildered. "Not boiling, don't worry. How do you feel?"
"I... I thought I killed you," Sasuke murmured worriedly, lips pursed.
"Don't use kunai or shuriken anymore; it's dangerous. If I hadn't substituted, you'd have killed me."
"Got it," he muttered dejectedly and began scanning my room. The last decade of August 1051 wasn't bright with warm sunny days. They were gloomy and damp, tinged with end-of-summer sadness and lyrical nostalgia.
Talking at home, warm and cozy over tea while rain poured and lightning flashed outside, was truly the right call.
"You're at my place, if you're wondering," I preempted, and he, sipping black tea, set mug on nightstand. Noticing he was bare-chested, he started looking for his clothes.
"You undressed me?" the boy fumed, blushing to his ears.
"So you don't get sick," I forced a smile, soul empty, then created a clone. "Lie there, warm up, and don't interfere, okay?"
The boy squinted suspiciously and watched my double fuss with the kit. When Sasuke threw shuriken, he inevitably left cuts I'd now have to stitch.
I sat on wooden chair facing room center, clone started procedures while Sasuke curiously eyed everything, warming under blanket and sipping tea. First, double did infiltration anesthesia[infiltration anesthesia: injecting painkiller shallowly, subcutaneously] on shoulder cut site, then sutured.
"What are you doing?!" the boy exclaimed worriedly, half-rising.
"What did you expect to see when you threw shuriken at me? That I'd dodge them all like in a blockbuster?" I asked him, but he stayed silent. "I trained with shuriken and kunai before too. And the first injury didn't keep me waiting. I went to the hospital, but they refused me—my stipend wasn't enough for medical care, so that's when I learned to stitch wounds myself. Now all my shuriken training is done by my clones—they're expendable."
Having said that, I kept quiet about how in my previous life I'd trained as a nurse and already knew a lot.
"Wow," the boy marveled, still watching as the clone stitched and bandaged my wounds.
"Plus, next year I'm starting medical ninja courses—so I'm studying ahead," I explained, and that's when I noticed how the boy was clutching his shoulder, his lips pressed into a thin white line.
"Show me," I demanded emotionlessly and coldly. Sasuke's face changed instantly; he frowned and looked away, somehow childishly indignant. "I won't make it worse, and if it's a dislocation not a break, I can help."
"No need!" Uchiha snorted proudly. He was apparently still harboring a grudge because I'd beaten him.
"If you go home like that, won't your dad ask who did it to you?" I began to manipulate. If his father Fugaku found out his son had been beaten by someone, Sasuke would definitely lose face, and I remembered from some filler episodes in anime that an Uchiha who doesn't feel recognized could end up resenting everyone because of it.
"Uh-uhh..." Sasuke's face made it clear a full war was raging inside him. He was somehow offended by me, but at the same time he absolutely didn't want Mom and Dad asking who beat him up. "Fine, ahem," Uchiha closed his eyes and turned away slightly. "And anyway, I was holding back because you're a girl!"
"That was obvious," I played along and approached the boy. "Sit down, I'll check it." The kid sat upright, and I discovered he really did have an anterior shoulder dislocation: the bone end had shifted toward the clavicle area—apparently when he fell, I hadn't caught him fully.
"Lie down and don't move for twenty minutes; we need to relax the contracted muscles first so we can reduce it," I helped the boy lie down properly and created a clone who sat on the chair and picked up a book from the table. "I'll go make some food meanwhile, and the clone will keep watch."
"Uh..." the boy looked at me so pitifully and sadly, like I was leaving forever.
"What?"
"Can I talk to you? Can't the clones cook?.."
"Why does he want to talk to me? Doesn't he despise me?" I didn't understand.
"Fine, then you go cook," I said to the clone who was already deep into the book. He nodded and headed to the kitchen.
We talked with Sasuke the whole twenty minutes. He asked about almost every technique I'd used in the fight. I also asked him about his techniques. Then the boy sat in position, and with the clones using the Kocher method, we reduced his shoulder.
"Where'd you learn this?" Uchiha asked.
"I told you, I'm starting medical ninja courses soon," I lied shamelessly, remembering how I'd actually learned it: "Not for nothing did they talk me into medical school in my previous life."
"Th-thanks," Sasuke said more relaxedly while I bandaged his shoulder. Our eyes met and lingered for a moment. We looked at each other for a few seconds, and something twisted in my heart. Uchiha blushed a little, like he'd felt the same, and quickly looked away.
"What was that? Some unfamiliar feeling flashed through my soul for a moment."
"Sorry about that," I said, sitting back on the chair—I'd beaten him unconscious for the first time.
"You're not at fault," Sasuke frowned. "I challenged you myself." Making a thoughtful face, he stared at his bandages. It stung him to lose to a girl; at the Academy, Uchiha only lost to boys, and just once or twice. "Just don't tell anyone. No one can know I... lost..."
"Sasuke, even though I won, I got it worse. You've got a dislocated shoulder and a bruise on your jaw; I've got bruised internal organs, two knocked-out teeth, a couple broken ribs, a leg sprain, and a black eye," I smiled a little, and the younger Uchiha smirked triumphantly, like he enjoyed hitting me. I wanted the boy not to hold a grudge over my win. "So consider it luck on my part."
"How'd you learn those techniques?"
"I paid upperclassmen to teach me, of course. And... no one refused," I shrugged.
"Hm... Got it... Can I ask you something?" he said quickly, his eyes darting around the room.
"What?" I asked, but Sasuke was silent. He apparently wanted to ask for something, but Uchiha pride wouldn't let him. I was about to ask again when he suddenly blurted out:
"Let's train together!" Sasuke said loudly and looked away, like he'd asked something embarrassing.
I was stunned, definitely not expecting that from him. Where was his arrogance? It was risky, but training with him would benefit me. I was planning to learn the fire element anyway.
"Mm... Sure. Sometimes. And since you're my guest, want me to feed you?" I offered, smelling the pleasant aroma of curry from the kitchen.
"Me?" he blinked his cute eyes in surprise, then his stomach growled, and the kid embarrassedly pulled the blanket over himself.
"Yeah, come on, let's eat," I said, and somehow a smile appeared on my face unbidden.
"It's somehow easier with him..."
"Listen, does your jaw hurt?" I asked, remembering how I'd knocked him out.
"A little," he said, touching his face. "What about your stomach?"
"A bit too," I said thoughtfully, not understanding how that could be. Either we didn't hit that hard, or we'd lain there for hours. "Anyway, come on before it gets cold. Wash your hands first. And if you need it, your shirt's drying; you can wear mine, it's on the chair."
The clone who'd made the curry had dispersed. They ate this dish in Konoha too, but less often: mostly preferring beef, fried fish, and rice.
Sasuke, having put on a clean shirt and washed his hands in the bathroom, entered the kitchen and started looking around. Luckily everything was clean and tidy, just a faint smell of burnt food. The boy sat at the table, watching me "run" around the kitchen serving food.
"You eat curry?"
"Uh-huh. By the way, why are you limping?" the boy noticed I was standing on one foot.
"I said earlier: ligament strain... I didn't tuck right on the fall," I explained and set a plate of curry and tea in front of him.
"Got it... You made this?" Sasuke asked excitedly, eyeing the food hungrily. I got spare chopsticks and a stand and handed them to him.
"Yeah," I said, picking up my chopsticks and wrapping a warm wool blanket around myself before eating.
"Aren't you Ariza Saito?"
"No, my surname's Saito, not Saito," I corrected him.
"Ariza, everything here's kinda... old," he commented on the house after trying my cooking. "And your kitchen's weird; the table's so high. At my house it's different!" the boy said in surprise. Apparently the Uchiha clan preserved old traditions from the Sengoku Jidai era.
"It's a dorm; I have to make do with what's there," I replied calmly, and the boy looked out the rain-streaked window, where the distant outline of Hokage Rock was barely visible.
The downpour drummed relentlessly on the windowsill, making the bright, warm kitchen feel even cozier by contrast.
"Will you tell me why you bother people at the Academy?" Sasuke turned his intense big black eyes on me. "I don't like it."
"I won't anymore, promise. I just thought if I acted like everyone else, I'd be liked and they'd be friends with me," I muttered childishly to avoid suspicion. "For now they just laugh at me."
"You write weird on the board. Wrong order, lots of mistakes," Uchiha pointed out.
"Yeah, happens... I'm human, I'm allowed to err."
"Listen, let's train tomorrow already!" he said seriously, fixing me with a stare like I'd back out at the last second.
"Afraid not; neither you nor I can train tomorrow. I've got a sprain, you've got a dislocated shoulder. We need rest after today's sparring, or it'll get worse."
"Aw," the boy sighed in disappointment, and thunder rumbled outside.
"But if you really want, we can meet at the same training ground tomorrow at three. I'll show you a technique that doesn't need hand seals," I forced a smile, seeing joy and happiness in Sasuke's eyes. "And you show me something."
"Sasuke definitely can't tree-walk yet. Hope he gets it and brags to his family later."
"Hai!" the boy smiled, then continued interestedly: "Do your parents teach you all this?"
"No," I lowered my head. "They died long ago," I whispered, feeling a slight pain and resentment in my heart. For some reason, with each year I felt the loss more and more. Sometimes I suspected I hadn't been here since five, but since birth.
"I didn't mean..."
"It's fine... They were killed when I was five. Until seven I lived in an orphanage, then they gave me this dorm apartment. The Academy and books teach me," I nodded at the stack.
"Hm..." He looked thoughtfully at the textbooks, then at his tea. "You're not like the others. Why befriend that loser Naruto?"
"I wouldn't say we're close friends, but definitely good acquaintances. He accepts me as I am, and no one else needs me in this world," I replied with a note of melancholy. "Please don't call him names around me?"
"Fine..."
We sat a bit longer, chatting about lessons and techniques, then Sasuke went home—everyone had homework. I stopped "chasing" him after that, and eventually we became good friends, spending our whole childhood together.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan