Moving Forward

The mask was cool under his hands, sculpted edges surprisingly smooth, deceptively gentle. He ran a nail along the lines of red paint that failed to accent any emotion beyond impartial, and then feigned that same sort of unimpressed as he flipped the mask on.
It blocked out the almost desperate twist to his smile, leaving his eyes to glitter as he examined himself between the water spots on the mirror.
Naruto sputtered his way through a laugh, wondering how many ANBU spent their time grinning maniacally behind their masks.
Sasuke was there, poised and perfect on the apartment’s one concession to extravagant comfort as he studied a scroll, when Naruto came back from his first mission. There was a moment of confusion as Sasuke struggled to match a familiar chakra with unfamiliar visage, and Naruto called out a tired greeting.
The sound echoed weirdly, stopping him in mid-insult. The mask. He had forgotten to remove his mask.
“Naruto?”
His name, framed as a question as Sasuke tested and tasted the atmosphere, standing slowly.
Thankfully slowly. Naruto’s nerves, kicked back into action by the look on Sasuke’s face, were doing their best to keep him twitching forward, just ahead of the next kunai. Naruto took a deep breath, tried to convince himself Sasuke wasn’t a threat.
But Sasuke was never unarmed. Sasuke moved with a predator’s grace, eyes narrowed and shifting.
History hung in their air between them as Naruto’s fingers flicked towards his kunai and Sasuke’s eyes shattered into wary fractals.
It was fantastically backwards, Sasuke easing forward to offer awkward comfort. It was deliciously unsettling, feeling Sasuke’s hands near his neck, brushing across the mask, and then slowly removing it. The world settled back into some semblance of sanity as the night air drifted across Naruto’s cheeks.
“Congratulations.”
Naruto choked on a snort, caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. He still wasn’t used to this, this Sasuke who was willing to come close, to touch. Sasuke smelled of soap as he draped an arm over Naruto’s shoulders, politely ignoring the way they shook slightly. His breath was warm with tea, earthy and minty.
“When were you going to tell me?”
Naruto’s face remembered how to crinkle up in an endearing bit of chagrin, and both men relaxed at the subtle return of normalcy. “Tomorrow?”
They both pretended the tinge of jealous distemper had never hung from Sasuke’s words.
It got easier. Putting on the mask was like leaving one room and entering another. Naruto no longer struggled with the mindset. It had saturated the mask along with the scent of sweat and blood, old anxiety and past danger. He was gone longer, more often, leaving Sasuke to sit and study. To wait and watch as Naruto’s eyes hardened along with the muscles in his already powerful frame.
Sasuke recognized the expression; it had hounded his own face through most of his childhood. It looked viciously out of place on Naruto.
He mentioned it once. Naruto had looked up, noodles dangling out his mouth like a catfish’s feelers for a stunned second before they were sent wiggling as Naruto laughed, dismissing Sasuke’s concern.
Sasuke refused Naruto’s attention when the blond came back from missions, exertion and victory staining his clothing with damp splotches. Naruto would snarl, eyes narrowing, and Sasuke would snarl right back. He was Naruto’s responsibility, but he was not Naruto’s consolation and coping mechanism. Violence hovered close to the surface of Naruto’s expression most of the time, lingered at the edge of every gesture.
Sasuke hovered in the corners of the apartment, chakra roiling a warning that Naruto wasn’t always wise enough to heed.
Their first actual fight destroyed the better part of the building Naruto had called home for years. Naruto rolled out of the wreckage snapping and snarling. Sasuke’s hand flew through seals, intent on aggression more than preservation, his temper finally pulled taut. They were too evenly matched for their feuding to end easily. Naruto crouched, eyes red and glaring. Sasuke inhaled, preparing…
DĂ©jĂ vu hung heavy in the dust their fighting had kicked into the air. History gleamed in every mote that flashed in a stray bit of sunlight. Sasuke was the first to back down, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning his back on Naruto.
Naruto blinked, Sasuke’s action so out of character it snapped his hold on his temper, forced an unwelcome bit of introspection.
Naruto glared at his ANBU mask, hating every flawless inch, the way it seemed so unconcerned with the chaos that had replaced Naruto’s conviction.
“Come back like a proper ninja or don’t bother.” Sasuke growled glancing up from his scroll, a welcome voice of short-tempered reason.
Naruto cracked a grin, and tossed a rude gesture Sasuke’s way before vanishing.
Sasuke shook his head with a snort. It figured Naruto would sort out a way to wear an ANBU mask at an irreverently rakish angle.
The mask was cool under his hands, sculpted edges surprisingly smooth, deceptively gentle. He ran a nail along the lines of red paint that failed to accent any emotion beyond impartial, and then feigned that same sort of unimpressed as he flipped the mask on.
It blocked out the almost desperate twist to his smile, leaving his eyes to glitter as he examined himself between the water spots on the mirror.
Naruto sputtered his way through a laugh, wondering how many ANBU spent their time grinning maniacally behind their masks.
Sasuke was there, poised and perfect on the apartment’s one concession to extravagant comfort as he studied a scroll, when Naruto came back from his first mission. There was a moment of confusion as Sasuke struggled to match a familiar chakra with unfamiliar visage, and Naruto called out a tired greeting.
The sound echoed weirdly, stopping him in mid-insult. The mask. He had forgotten to remove his mask.
“Naruto?”
His name, framed as a question as Sasuke tested and tasted the atmosphere, standing slowly.
Thankfully slowly. Naruto’s nerves, kicked back into action by the look on Sasuke’s face, were doing their best to keep him twitching forward, just ahead of the next kunai. Naruto took a deep breath, tried to convince himself Sasuke wasn’t a threat.
But Sasuke was never unarmed. Sasuke moved with a predator’s grace, eyes narrowed and shifting.
History hung in their air between them as Naruto’s fingers flicked towards his kunai and Sasuke’s eyes shattered into wary fractals.
It was fantastically backwards, Sasuke easing forward to offer awkward comfort. It was deliciously unsettling, feeling Sasuke’s hands near his neck, brushing across the mask, and then slowly removing it. The world settled back into some semblance of sanity as the night air drifted across Naruto’s cheeks.
“Congratulations.”
Naruto choked on a snort, caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. He still wasn’t used to this, this Sasuke who was willing to come close, to touch. Sasuke smelled of soap as he draped an arm over Naruto’s shoulders, politely ignoring the way they shook slightly. His breath was warm with tea, earthy and minty.
“When were you going to tell me?”
Naruto’s face remembered how to crinkle up in an endearing bit of chagrin, and both men relaxed at the subtle return of normalcy. “Tomorrow?”
They both pretended the tinge of jealous distemper had never hung from Sasuke’s words.
It got easier. Putting on the mask was like leaving one room and entering another. Naruto no longer struggled with the mindset. It had saturated the mask along with the scent of sweat and blood, old anxiety and past danger. He was gone longer, more often, leaving Sasuke to sit and study. To wait and watch as Naruto’s eyes hardened along with the muscles in his already powerful frame.
Sasuke recognized the expression; it had hounded his own face through most of his childhood. It looked viciously out of place on Naruto.
He mentioned it once. Naruto had looked up, noodles dangling out his mouth like a catfish’s feelers for a stunned second before they were sent wiggling as Naruto laughed, dismissing Sasuke’s concern.
Sasuke refused Naruto’s attention when the blond came back from missions, exertion and victory staining his clothing with damp splotches. Naruto would snarl, eyes narrowing, and Sasuke would snarl right back. He was Naruto’s responsibility, but he was not Naruto’s consolation and coping mechanism. Violence hovered close to the surface of Naruto’s expression most of the time, lingered at the edge of every gesture.
Sasuke hovered in the corners of the apartment, chakra roiling a warning that Naruto wasn’t always wise enough to heed.
Their first actual fight destroyed the better part of the building Naruto had called home for years. Naruto rolled out of the wreckage snapping and snarling. Sasuke’s hand flew through seals, intent on aggression more than preservation, his temper finally pulled taut. They were too evenly matched for their feuding to end easily. Naruto crouched, eyes red and glaring. Sasuke inhaled, preparing…
DĂ©jĂ vu hung heavy in the dust their fighting had kicked into the air. History gleamed in every mote that flashed in a stray bit of sunlight. Sasuke was the first to back down, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning his back on Naruto.
Naruto blinked, Sasuke’s action so out of character it snapped his hold on his temper, forced an unwelcome bit of introspection.
Naruto glared at his ANBU mask, hating every flawless inch, the way it seemed so unconcerned with the chaos that had replaced Naruto’s conviction.
“Come back like a proper ninja or don’t bother.” Sasuke growled glancing up from his scroll, a welcome voice of short-tempered reason.
Naruto cracked a grin, and tossed a rude gesture Sasuke’s way before vanishing.
Sasuke shook his head with a snort. It figured Naruto would sort out a way to wear an ANBU mask at an irreverently rakish angle.
