Chapter Beta: Sakura's Unicorn

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"Stop pacing. It's making me dizzy."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't care."

"Rude. I've never met anyone more ornery or uncouth in my life."

"Yeah? Take a look in the mirror, pal!"

Naruto and Condor glare at one another. Naruto sticks out his tongue while Condor pulls down his lower eyelid at him then they turn their backs on one another, resuming their previous behaviours: Naruto paces back and forth while Condor perches irritably on the couch, knees tucked up under his chest and elbows close to his sides.

They've been left to their own devices in the Hokage's chamber while the old man makes their 'super-secret arrangements.' At least, that's what Naruto is calling them in his head because 'babysitting' sounds much worse.

"I hate this," he grumbles. His stomach echoes the sentiment. "And I'm hungry again. And bored. Where the hell is the old guy because I gotta go to the bathroom!"

"Then go," Condor says, examining his fingernails in a gesture that is way too feminine to be allowed with Naruto's body.

"I can't exactly fit in the can with this big bird-ass!"

Condor rolls his eyes like he's completely missing the point, and fixes him with a pointed stare.

The penny drops and Naruto sniggers. "Oh, man, that'd be a story to tell! Taking a massive crap in the Hokage's house?!" He giggles and looks around. "I'd have to do it somewhere really hard to find, so it'd stick around for weeks! Like under the couch, or in a cupboard, or something!"

"You're absolutely charming," Condor tells him, wrinkling his nose. "Only a human could be pleased at the thought of defecating in a wardrobe."

"I would appreciate it if you refrained from that sort of behaviour," the tired voice of the Third Hokage interrupts, and Naruto snaps into standing attention as the old man reappears in the entranceway.

"It was his idea," he says immediately, pointing at Condor when he remembers that the Hokage can't actually understand him.

Condor sticks out his tongue.

"I really don't care whose idea it was, don't do it," Lord Third says abruptly. "Now smarten yourselves up. I have someone I want to introduce you to."

He steps aside, and a second man enters the room. He is much younger with almond-shaped, black eyes and short brown hair that's tucked behind a happuri-style forehead protector, the like of which Naruto has only ever seen on the great stone face of the Second Hokage.

"This is your handler for the time being," Lord Third introduces.

"Handler?" Naruto echoes, wrinkling his nose – or beak, or whatever.

Condor shoots the newcomer a piercing, up-down glance and then turns to the old man. "He looks like a weirdo." The stranger facefaults. "Lord Hokage, I demand someone who looks more imposing than this...this waif."

"You can call me Yamato," the man tells him stiffly.

"Can?" Condor challenges.

"Does that mean it isn't your real name?" Naruto demands. "Yeah, that's not creepy at all..."

"Lord Third, I really must protest – how am I supposed to trust my protector when I don't even know his name?" Condor demands. "That's a mark of polite society, you know. Even among birds, sharing one's name is a mark of respect!"

"Yeah!" Naruto echoes.

"Shut up. No one was talking to you."

"You shut up first! You're the one running your mouth!"

The man known as Yamato blinks and says to Lord Third, "I see what you mean."

The Hokage sighs wearily then clears his throat. "Captain Yamato will be escorting you to your safe location and keeping an eye on you while you adjust to your...situation. Hopefully, it won't take very long, but in the event that it does, we've procured an abandoned farmhouse for you to –"

"A farmhouse?" Condor interrupts, scandalised.

"A barn?!" Naruto demands. "That's it? That's your grand plan for us? To hide out in a shack somewhere until this blows over?!"

"I'm trying not to be insulted," Condor sneers.

"Screw that! I am insulted! Why don't we just stay in my apartment?!"

"Yes. Certainly, the smelly one's hovel would be preferable to a cowshed."

"No, the location we've found for you is better," Lord Third says. "It's protected by the same barrier that keeps the village safe, although on a smaller scale. And the property itself is perfect for your unique situation. There's enough space for you both to adjust to the changes in your bodies, and their respective...er...needs."

"And there will be space for your teammates to visit and train as well," Yamato says. "I know Kakashi will want you to keep practicing even more to make up for what's going on with you guys. More importantly, you two are comrades. You have to learn to get along with each other if you want to have any chance of functioning."

Naruto scowls at the two men and, after a beat of silence, says, "Tell him I'm going to shit on his foot."

"Get in line," Condor growls back, hands on his hips, chin jutting out at Yamato. "You expect me to be comrades with that?" He points at Naruto.

"Hey!"

Lord Third opens his mouth, presumably to say something threatening or to start another lecture, but Yamato raises a hand.

"If I may?" he asks the old man.

Lord Third nods.

Yamato strides forward, a calm expression on his face, until he is within two feet of Naruto and Condor. He looks them both in the eye as he speaks.

"Rest assured, I prefer the kinder, gentler approach. But believe me –" his expression darkens, eyes somehow becoming sinister and hollow, and there's an ominous tone in his voice that makes Naruto's feathers ruffle in sudden, inexplicable panic, " – I'll use more Draconian methods when it's necessary. Got it?"

"Waaaaugh!"

Naruto and Condor both stagger back a few steps.

"G-got it," they both chorus.

What the hell is with the freaky-ass look?!

"Now, would you rather spend the day crammed in a wooden box acquainting yourselves with the meaning of teamwork, or enjoy a night on a quaint homestead with food, a roof, and plumbing?" the man continues.

Condor and Naruto exchange looks, nod stiffly, and chorus, "Homestead."

Yamato nods, satisfied. "That's what I thought."

I'm not going to survive this, Naruto thinks.

ナルト

Sakura is not sure what she expected Kakashi's apartment to look like, but somehow this was not it.

The place is tiny and surprisingly spartan, consisting of an eat-in kitchen and living area crammed together, a washroom, and one bedroom.

Then again, her experience with men is limited to her own father (an absent-minded layabout) and her teammates (a slob and a perfectionist), so it's not like she'd have much to compare it to.

"Do you want some tea or a sandwich?" Kakashi asks, wandering over to his fridge to peer inside.

Her stomach growls again – Geez, Sasuke is always hungry! – and she admits, "That would be nice."

"...because I don't have either of those things," her teacher finishes, closing the door and rubbing tiredly at his eye. Apologetically, he continues "I should have gone shopping before we left. I don't really get a lot of visitors.

"At least, not ones with stomachs," Sakura suggests.

"Something like that," he agrees, amused by something, and then shakes his head. "Never mind. I'll order something in for you. But before that – we should talk. Go put your bag in my room, that's where you'll be staying."

"No. It's all right, I don't –"

"I've slept on worse things than the couch. It's not up for discussion. Now hurry up. I want to talk to you before I pass out for the day."

Sakura does as she's told, wandering into the room to put her things down, barely taking in the spare furnishings, and hurrying back out. Kakashi is having a quick conversation with one of his ninja hounds who mutters about being turned into a delivery boy before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

"I hope you don't mind eating yōshoku. He's got a preference, and since I sent him on such an errand, it seemed best to let him choose," Kakashi says with a shrug.

"Uh, no. That's fine."

"Good."

"Great."

They are silent for a long while, and Sakura shifts uncomfortably. It feels weird to be with just Kakashi with neither of her teammates to command his attention. He must feel it, too, because he seems to be going out of his way to be nice to her.

This whole training thing isn't going to work, if he's going to treat me different from Sasuke –

"I wanted to apologise," Kakashi says suddenly, which catches her completely off-guard. "It's been pointed out to me that I've been neglecting your training needs."

Well. She wasn't expecting him to address that so quickly.

"Oh. I..." she trails off, not quite sure what to say to that.

It's reflex to deny it, and to insist she doesn't need his help, but remembering her conversation with Sasuke earlier, she decides not to. If she's going to get any stronger, she's going to have to fight for it, and that includes not being as accommodating and humble as girls are usually taught to be.

"There's no excuse for it," Kakashi goes on. "Although, in my defense, you're talented enough that I didn't think you needed it. Also..." He shifts uncomfortably here. "You're the first girl who's ever been assigned to me, let alone that I've had to speak to for prolonged periods of time. It's required some adaptation."

Sakura stares at him for a beat and then grins. "Who knew the great Kakashi was afraid of little girls?"

"That's not – that's not what I –" Kakashi begins, and even beneath the mask he looks so utterly confused about whether he should be offended or defensive that Sakura laughs. It's the first thing she's found truly funny all day, and something tense within her breaks.

Maybe this won't be so bad.

Kakashi is staring at her now, thoughtful, and then shakes his head. "It's uncanny..."

"What is?"

"Nothing. I just...haven't seen that particular smile in many years."

It takes her a moment to figure it out – he can't be talking about Sasuke because Sasuke never smiles or laughs (barring the startled chuckles she pried out of him earlier). And he only just met Sasuke when their team formed, so he must mean –

Itachi Uchiha.

"Did you know him?" she asks, almost breathless with curiosity. She doesn't know anything about Sasuke's infamous brother, but considering Sasuke has made it his life's mission to kill the man, she thinks she should probably get informed. He won't tell her anything, of course, but maybe this is another avenue...

But Kakashi simply shakes his head and says, "That's a conversation for another time. For now, I want to discuss your plans."

"My plans?"

"You never gave me a concrete answer and, at the time, I didn't expect any of you to pass, so I didn't push it," Kakashi says, making Sakura scowl because he could at least soften the blow of his words. "But if I'm to help you improve yourself, I need to know what your dreams for the future are."

"Getting my body back would be a start," she tells him. "That's kind of a big one right now."

"And after that?"

She shrugs, not exactly sure how to answer that.

"Let me put it this way – why do you want to be a shinobi, Sakura?"

"To serve the village," she answers immediately.

"That's the standard response that every Academy student is taught before they become genin," he points out. "Dig deeper."

"I guess it's like with Naruto," she says, hedging a little on the topic. "I want people to acknowledge me for me, even though I come from a civilian family."

It's mostly true, even if it's not exactly for that reason.

A large part of her wish for acknowledgement is still directed as Sasuke, wanting his recognition, and she knows Kakashi knows this, too. It's embarrassing and simplistic and selfish enough that she doesn't want to say it out loud. Being a shinobi is supposed to be about more than any one person or any selfish motivations.

Wanting to impress your crush doesn't feel like the right thing to drive a glowing shinobi career.

At the same time, she doesn't want to outright admit that she's been floundering a little lately. With how strong Naruto and Sasuke have been getting, she feels as if she's holding them back.

Kakashi studies her again, tapping his chin, then nods to himself. "What are you the most afraid of?" he asks, suddenly switching tactics.

"Huh?"

"Just answer the question – don't think about boys, or make-up, or clothes, or whatever it is girls your age think about –"

"If that's all you think girls think about, it's no wonder you suck at teaching me," she deadpans.

"Focus on you. What is the worst thing that could ever happen to you?"

"Besides being trapped in someone else's body, you mean?" Kakashi gives her an impatient look, and she sighs, trying to think. "Being left behind, I guess," she muses slowly. "Or having to be left behind because I can't be of use. Like...if someone I cared about was in trouble and I couldn't do anything to help them."

An image hits her of that day on the bridge in the Land of Waves. Of sitting over Sasuke's body, staring at his lifeless eyes while blood trickled from his neck, not knowing whether she should remove the senbon or not. Not knowing if he was breathing or if she could – or should – check for a pulse, but knowing that if she didn't do something, he would die.

"Not being able to do anything would...it is the worse thing that could happen to me."

She remembers the sense of utter powerlessness as Naruto, the most unskilled of their group, threw his life on the line to avenge their teammate, and Kakashi spilled blood to get the upper hand against Zabuza and Haku.

It was the longest two hours of her life.

The whole time I was useless. Without them backing me up, I'm useless. And that's the worst feeling in the world.

When she looks up, Kakashi's eyes are crinkled in the manner she has come to associate with him smiling.

"Why does that make you happy?" she asks, suspicious.

"Because you just reminded me of someone else," he tells her, and from the lack of ominous tone lacing his words, she suspects it's not an international murderer like before. "Wanting to protect the people important to you is a far more admirable goal than most. And it's encouraging that you can come to that conclusion so young. It takes most shinobi years before they realise that – if they do at all."

"You got that all from me remembering one bad day?" she asks, impressed.

"Give me some credit," Kakashi deadpans. "I've been observing you as much as the others these past few months, even if I've had to concentrate more on them. I feel confident enough saying that helping people is part of who you are, whether you choose the life of a shinobi or not."

Sakura blushes at the praise.

"That being said, the shinobi life is harder for those who strive to protect others because it leads to making very tough decisions," Kakashi goes on, the complimentary tone fading into warning. "Often, in a split second. They can't freeze up."

"Right..." Sakura says, a little uncertain about this because her track record in that respect hasn't been very good.

"I take it you don't just want to keep people from getting hurt – you want to help them if they do get hurt," Kakashi suggests, and when Sakura nods, he goes on, "That makes me think that medical ninjutsu might be an area of interest to you. It can be used effectively to save the lives of those you care about – and when properly trained, it can be used offensively as well."

Sakura considers it, trying to remember everything she's ever learned about medical ninjutsu. In theory, it sounds good...

"If it's something you're interested in, the earlier you start, the better. Which means discussing it with Sasuke as, while he's in your body, he's going to have to do most of the practical work. You'll have to be familiar enough with the theory that, by the time you get your body back, you don't have to relearn it all."

"You think I'll be able to?" Sakura wonders.

"There isn't a doubt in my mind. You're the most intelligent member of this team."

Sakura shifts, embarrassed. "No. Sasuke is."

"Sasuke has the best memory on the squad, that's true. But having a good memory doesn't necessarily mean having a good understanding or critical thinking skills. When it comes to analysing problems and engineering solutions, you have him beat," Kakashi tells her, and Sakura doesn't bother suppressing the pleased smile that breaks out here. "Sasuke is like Naruto in that respect – they both see all problems as nails. They hammer them down, reacting instead of anticipating which, in the short-term, is useful, but in the long-run, can cause additional problems."

"I...guess I never thought about it like that."

"Second – when you're actually in your body, you have excellent chakra control. Quite possibly better than mine, once you've perfected it," Kakashi continues. "Add that to your ability to analyse a situation, you have a proficiency with genjutsu that could be further developed. I know you've been speaking to Kurenai lately."

"A little," Sakura admits. "But she's usually busy with her team, so..."

"I'll help you with what I can," he promises. "In the meantime, it's probably good that you and Sasuke will be working together more often, given that the Uchiha clan specialise in genjutsu. You'll both get a chance to experience a different perspective on it which will be useful in the future."

"Maybe for me, but I don't think Sasuke would get anything from it – I mean, isn't it kind of a downgrade, going from having a Sharingan to relying just on basic genjutsu?" Sakura wonders.

"Right now it doesn't matter because he hasn't learned to use any Sharingan genjutsu yet," Kakashi says. "He operates on instinct – being in your body, he'll have to learn to deconstruct the process if he wants to achieve results. You, however, have the analytical part down, and so, once you figure out how to activate the Sharingan, you'll get a better understanding of how it works as you use it. It's something no other non-Uchiha, besides me, has ever gotten a chance to do. And you'll still have that knowledge once you get your body back. Can you imagine how seamless your dynamic will be if you have an understanding of his Sharingan? And that's before we've even factored Naruto into the equation."

Right. Naruto.

Sakura shifts uncomfortably, the truth about her teammate suddenly coming to the forefront.

"Kakashi-sensei," she begins, uncertain how to broach the subject without sounding utterly callous. A second later, she decides there's no way to do that properly and just goes on ahead. "If Naruto is...what we said he is, how...is that a good idea? For him to be, um, on a team and allowed out of the village and stuff? I mean, from what little I've read about jinchūriki, they can sometimes...uh...lose control? And don't their villages usually guard them pretty strictly?"

To her surprise, Kakashi doesn't look as if he is judging her for her question, but is contemplating how to answer it.

"They do," he agrees, "and in the past, their movements were restricted greatly. But in the last few decades, it's become more and more apparent that training them is in the best interest of the village. Every village is different, of course..."

"All this makes him sound like a weapon," Sakura says darkly.

"You're not wrong," Kakashi says, and she shivers. "Does this change how you feel? What you said earlier?"

"He might be a total mess, but he's our mess. Right, Sasuke?"

"No," Sakura says slowly. "It's just...really weird to think about. I mean, it's Naruto. But he's also got a demon in him...and it all makes sense, but at the same time, it's just..." She gestures ineffectually, once again unable to articulate exactly how she feels about the whole thing.

"Confusion is natural," Kakashi says. "It will take time to come to terms with it. You might even feel afraid sometimes when you think too hard on it. When that happens, come talk to me. Or if I'm not around, just remember that he didn't have a choice in the matter. He wasn't even a few hours old when the Fourth Hokage sealed the Nine-Tails inside of him."

Sakura thinks back on all her memories of Naruto during their days at the Academy and the few times she saw him beforehand. She remembers the way people looked at him – the way they still look at him – as if he's done something horrible when, in fact, he's the reason the village is still standing. And all of it's related to an event he can't even remember.

A huge sense of wrongness hits her.

"How could someone do that to a baby?" Sakura demands. "All the books go on and on about what a hero Lord Fourth was, but that's horrible! And where were Naruto's parents? Why didn't they stop him?"

Kakashi's eye flashes with something like pain, and he says quietly, "Naruto's parents were killed in the attack. They also didn't have much of a choice in the matter."

"Did you know them?" Sakura asks.

Kakashi nods. "I did. And I can tell you that they wanted him to be as normal and happy as possible. And he never had a chance at that until he was placed on the team with you and Sasuke."

Which of course makes her feel even worse for how she treated Naruto before they were placed on the same squad.

"And now he's stuck as an ostrich," she says glumly, for the first time all day thinking maybe she and Sasuke didn't get the worst consequence of the swap. "Will we be able to see him at all now that he's off...wherever he is?"

"Of that, I have no doubt," Kakashi says, standing up heavily. "You'll need to learn how to work with Condor, after all. As soon as you and Sasuke settle into some kind of routine, we'll see about arranging some team-training exercises. But until then, you've got your own training to do. First and foremost – learning to urinate without dribbling on your or someone else's feet."

Sakura's cheeks are instantly flaming. "Kakashi-sensei!"

ナルト

Wandering down the streets of Konoha, Sasuke decides he should've gotten Sakura to write down the directions to her house. He's never actually been there before, but he figured it would be easy to follow her spoken directives.

He wasn't counting on being too distracted by people staring at him.

Well, not everyone. Not really. But more people than usual. Villagers he supposes are Sakura's neighbours and people who know her beam at him, waving and offering greetings. Sasuke still isn't quite sold on the idea of smiling for no reason, but he mechanically raises his hand to return the wave or juts his head forward in a nod of greeting. If anyone looks like they're about to engage him in conversation, he speeds up his pace or feigns deafness when they call out Sakura's name.

Surprisingly, it's worse when they don't talk to him, but just try to make eye-contact – which is either really embarrassing or really creepy. He's never actually considered that this could be a problem. Granted, he's used to unwanted attention, but generally from a gaggle of girls his own age. Not –

Did the baker just leer at me? What the hell?! I'm thirteen! Sakura is thirteen!

No adult should be staring at a thirteen-year-old girl like that, and Sasuke's immediate reaction is to shoot a warning glare in the man's direction. Then he remembers that, at the moment, he can't back up any threat with force because he has no idea how to use this body properly.

He decides he must be imagining things. He must be exaggerating people's attention, especially disturbing attention like that, because he's just hyper-aware of his new circumstances. All the same, he quickens his pace.

It takes far too long to finally arrive at the Haruno household. Even once he gets there, Sasuke stops at the front door and stares at it, abruptly hit by the realisation that, once he enters, there is no going back. There is no possible other strategy but to pretend to be Sakura.

There's still time to find Kakashi and think up a better plan than this...

He isn't just worried about the possibility of Sakura's parents realising that he's not who he is pretending to be. The fact of the matter is, it's been five years since he's interacted with parents of any type. As painful as it is being on his own, he's gotten used to it. There's a terrible freedom in not being held accountable to anyone –

And not having anyone nearby to notice when he's upset.

If Sakura's parents are anything like his own were, he's not entirely sure he can maintain his composure, let alone keep them from noticing.

As he lingers uncertainly, trying to decide if he's supposed to just let himself in or knock – people don't knock at their own homes, idiot – the door is thrown open, and he is suddenly staring up at a kind-faced woman with blonde hair and Sakura's green eyes.

"There you are!" she declares, and he finds himself dragged into a hug so quickly that he doesn't have a chance to fend it off. There's such a speedy casualness to it that, before he can reflexively tense up, the woman has pulled away. "You were supposed to be home yesterday. I was so worried! I had half a mind to ask Lord Third what was taking so long, but then your Dad reminded me that sometimes missions take a little longer than expected –"

Then the woman, who could only be Sakura's mother, half-guides, half-pulls him into the house and shuts the door behind him. The smell of cooking and something floral fills the air, and the walls are brightly decorated with a more modern pattern than he is used to seeing in his own home.

Sasuke tries to suppress the instinctual need to make a run for it. If that inclination shows on his face, Mebuki Haruno doesn't notice because she is still talking.

" – although, in my day, C-rank missions were a lot more dangerous. So I told him, there's a reason I've been worrying. You'd think that teacher of yours could at least send word that you were on your way – of course, I've heard he's late for everything. I hope he doesn't pass that bad habit onto you three – Sakura, shoes!"

Sasuke startles, so caught off-guard by the woman's mile-a-minute ramble that he's forgotten basic routine.

Damn it...

He slips out of Sakura's sandals and puts them neatly beside the other pairs in the entrance.

"Hmph. At least I didn't have to remind you not to leave them in the doorway," Mebuki Haruno says, hands on her hips and a fond, yet exasperated, smile on her face. "Well, come on then. Say hello to your Dad before he heads off to work."

The world around Sasuke rushes away for a moment, the warmth and brightness of the Haruno's home coalescing into a different, long-forgotten warmth.

"Are you going to say 'good morning' to your father before he goes to work?" Mother asks as she passes him in the hallway.

"What's the point?" Sasuke sighs, world-weary at eight-years-old. "He never even notices. He only ever cares about Big Brother."

"You know that's not true," Mother soothes him. "Go on. He'll have a much better day if he sees you before he leaves."

"Sakura!"

Sasuke jumps, not realising that Mebuki is calling his borrowed name.

"I'm fine," he says automatically, coming back to the present.

"Are you sure?" the woman asks, frowning. "You're quiet – did you catch a cold while you were away from the village? I told you to bundle up at night, sweetheart. Let me check your temperature."

She reaches for his forehead in a gesture that is eerily reminiscent of Sakura, and Sasuke ducks it with practiced ease.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, edging toward what he assumes to be the kitchen.

Inside, he finds a lanky, tall man – who appears taller because of his outrageous, gravity-defying hair – who must Sakura's father. He's the only other person Sasuke has ever seen with that particular shade of hair, although his is streaked with a lot of grey.

Kizashi Haruno throws his arms wide and beams up at Sasuke. "There's my little girl! Come give your old man a hug!"

Sasuke freezes like a mouse staring up at a snake.

Shit. Shit! What do I do?!

If this man is anything like Sakura, he's persistent, and smart. He'll notice if Sasuke doesn't hug him, but there is no way – no way! – that he's going to do that, so the best tactic is –

Distraction!

"Did you two know about Naruto?" he blurts out because if there's anything that will put an end to any familiar overtures or parental displays of affection, it's bringing up the village secret that he's not supposed to know.

Sakura's parents wear carefully blank looks.

"Know what?" Mebuki asks.

Apparently, that's where Sakura gets her inability to tell a lie...

"About his special...status," Sasuke clarifies, narrowing his eyes to watch their reactions. This time the looks are knowing and resigned.

So, I was right about the villagers knowing about Naruto. Even civilians know what happened. It's just us kids that they kept it from.

"The question is, what do you know?" Kizashi asks, all traces of humour disappearing.

"Sak – Sasuke and I found out today. Because of something to do with the mission," Sasuke says cautiously.

"Well, that explains your mood today," Mebuki sighs, going to stand behind her husband, hands on his shoulders like she's drawing support from him.

"We know it's a bit of a shock," Sakura's father agrees.

Sasuke wants to brush it off like it's nothing because that's what he would usually do even if he feels the contrary, but that's probably not how Sakura would react. Instead, he forces back his natural inclination to stay quiet, and mumbles, "Yeah. Yeah, it was. I'm still...processing."

Did that sound too technical for Sakura? No, she could easily say something like that, I think.

Besides, it seems like a pretty complete answer, without giving away too much. Furthermore, it has the benefit of being completely true for both him and Sakura. Sasuke noticed earlier from Sakura's (his!) face that she wasn't as comfortable about the revelation of Naruto's status as she pretended in front of Kakashi and the Third Hokage.

"I'm surprised Kakashi mentioned it to you, though it's probably for the best that you know."

"I'm not sure about that," Mebuki says, mouth turning down briefly. Her expression softens as she gazes at Sasuke. "If you want to talk about it, we're here for you. Or did you want us to speak to someone about having you switch teams? I'm sure if it's really a problem we can help..."

"What? No," Sasuke says, a lot quicker than he would have expected from himself. Off their surprised expressions, he tries to backpedal. "Naruto's an idiot, but he's not...it's not a problem."

"Well, if you're sure..." Mebuki murmurs doubtfully.

"That's a change from usual," Kizashi snorts, "Usually, all you do is complain about him."

"Shinobi get assigned to teams they don't like all the time, and they have to adapt," Sasuke says stiffly, and adds a little defensively, "I can deal with it." He sees their eyes soften with pride, and it looks like Mebuki might reach for him again, so he hurriedly tries to deflect once more. "It might help to know more about it. All I know comes from what we studied in class."

He doesn't remember that night – he was only about four months old when the Nine-Tails attacked. Sakura, being a few months older, probably wasn't old enough to form many opinions about that night either.

Kizashi's face sobers and Sasuke is taken aback because, without the wide smile, there is a haunted, grim expression that Sasuke remembers his own father wearing long ago.

"It was a sad day," the man says. "We lost a lot of good men and women." He appears troubled for a moment, staring at something invisible to them. Then he shakes it off and, without warning of any kind, brightens. "And Sasuke?"

"What?" Sasuke says immediately before he realises he's not being addressed, but talked about.

Mebuki playfully smacks her husband's shoulder. "Kizashi, stop teasing her."

"But I need to know," Sakura's father pretends to whine, cheery demeanour back. "Every day, we get an update. I need to know what absolutely earth-shattering feat the Rookie of the Year has performed today."

Sasuke glares and opens his mouth before realising that Sakura's father isn't speaking with any of the sarcasm or resentment he's heard from other boys at the Academy. Or from Naruto on a good day. It's just good-natured teasing, and it makes him feel somewhat flustered.

His reaction appears to be the right one, in any case, because Sakura's parents burst into amused laughter. He clenches his fist, annoyed that their humour is at his expense, but also at himself for almost forgetting the most obvious way to act like Sakura. He supposes he has to say something on the subject, but he refuses to hyperventilate about himself.

"Sasuke is...fine," he hedges.

Even though I am anything but fine.

"Hm, she's downgraded him from 'amazing, talented, and the epitome of cool' to just 'fine,'" Kizashi ponders. "I think there might be trouble in paradise, dear."

"Sh-sh-hh," Mebuki giggles.

"I'm going to my room," Sasuke says tersely because he can't think of anything else to say.

"Oh, sweetheart. You know we're only joking with you," Mebuki soothes. "Honestly, if he's so important to you, we should have him over for supper –"

"No," Sasuke says immediately, at the same time that Kizashi says, "That would be awkward. As I would have to kill him."

Sasuke glares at him. Bring it on, old man.

"Well, then, how about the whole team?" Sakura's mother goes on. "We haven't done that yet. I was just chatting with Yoshino the other day, and they've had Asuma and the rest of Shikamaru's team over almost every other week. And those three are always together – the same way you're always off with Sasuke and Naruto. I think a team dinner night would be fun."

"It really wouldn't," Sasuke tells her unapologetically.

There are few things he can imagine which could be worse than a team dinner. And that's on a normal day, not one where the entire team has swapped bodies.

"Well, we'll talk about it later. Go wash up and we'll have dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Sasuke says, even though he is. He supposes he can find something to eat later when Sakura's parents aren't around to grill him with questions. When Mebuki shoots him a suspicious, concerned look, he backpedals – Mother used to look at Itachi like that – and says, "We ate before we got back to the village. Besides, I'm...tired."

"Well, it has been a long few days," Sakura's mother muses. "All right, then. You go take a bit of a rest. I'll leave a cold plate out for you."

Sasuke sighs in relief and heads for the stairs he'd seen earlier.

"Just make sure you shower off all that road dust before you get into bed," Mebuki calls after him. "I cleaned your sheets while you were away. Don't you dare get them grimy!"

Which causes him to wince because, as necessary as it is, bathing is the last thing he wants to do right now.

Still...that could have gone a lot worse, he thinks to himself as he wanders upstairs.

_____

つづく

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クリ

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