Naruto's head was swimming—not just from the cider and Lee's homebrewed energy cocktails, but from the relentless cycle of "survive the day, survive Sasuke." Every time he set down his glass, condensation etched new ring patterns over the already-saturated wood. He picked a fry from the basket, brandished it like a conductor's baton, and said, "You know what's bullshit? Deadlines. No, scratch that. Deadlines administered by people who think weekends are a myth."
Lee, ever the motivational coach, pumped his fist. "If you believe in yourself, you can defeat the deadline! Even if it is set by a cruel, unfeeling master—"
Gaara snorted, the sound soft but devastating. "Cruel. Unfeeling. Uchiha?"
"Maybe you just need to assert dominance, Naruto," Lee said, with the earnestness of a man who once challenged a mountain to a staring contest. "Next time he tries to micro-manage you, you stand up and you—"
A hush dropped over the bar, like a circuit breaker flipping off. Lee's words died mid-gesture. Gaara's eyes cut to the entrance. Naruto turned just in time to see a black-suited, angular presence sliding through the door, shadow in tow.
Sasuke Uchiha, hair immaculate and posture straight as a ruler. Even from this distance, Naruto could feel the gravity shift. The man could have been modeled out of poured obsidian, except for the skin so pale it nearly blue-shifted under the lamps. Next to him, Suigetsu Hōzuki strode like a man who knew the price of every drink in the city and dared the world to comp him. Suigetsu's platinum undercut glimmered under the neon, and his eyes flicked over the crowd with lazy disinterest until, almost by accident, he spotted Naruto.
Naruto ducked his head so fast he nearly smacked his forehead on the table. "Oh shit, oh shit," he hissed, sliding down in his seat. "That's him. That's Sasuke. The one I was just—" He made a frantic cutting motion across his throat with one hand while trying to disappear behind Lee's shoulder. Lee's arm came around him instantly, protective as a shield wall.
"The cruel, unfeeling master?" Gaara asked, voice carrying clear across the table as he dragged the pitcher over to refill their glasses. "What a coincidence."
"They won't see us," Naruto whispered desperately. "There are at least thirty people in here."
"They already saw you," Gaara said, not even bothering to lower his voice.
On cue, Sasuke's gaze snapped to their booth, irises gone dark as gunmetal. He halted mid-step, adjusted trajectory with the unhurried menace of a homing missile. Suigetsu paused, caught the drift, and flashed a carnivore's grin, teeth bright even at a distance.
Naruto's heart was beating so hard he wondered if it might actually rattle the glasses on the table. Lee patted him with the force of a jackhammer, as if this would steady him. "It's fine," Lee hissed. "Just act normal! Act very, very normal!"
Gaara reached across the table and, in the world's most transparent act, covered Naruto's hand with his own. "Don't panic," he said. "We're not afraid of him."
But Naruto was. Not in the "run away from a serial killer" sense, but in the way one might fear an undertow—subtle, steady, the power of it all the more terrifying for being invisible right up to the moment it pulled you under.
As Sasuke and Suigetsu approached, the bar noise rose around them again, but the bubble at the booth was its own little vacuum. Sasuke wore the look of a man who'd been ambushed at a funeral by someone live-streaming. His eyes flicked first to Naruto, then to Lee's arm, then to Gaara's hand over Naruto's. The sharp corners of his mouth twitched. Suigetsu, meanwhile, skipped the courtesy of assessing the group and went straight to a flirtatious wink at Gaara, who didn't deign to react.
Sasuke stopped at the booth, feet braced apart, coat half-open despite the indoor heat. The power dynamic in the room did a quick inversion—Lee's smile faded a notch, Gaara's fingers tensed where they covered Naruto's, and Naruto himself couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. Sasuke's gaze swept across the table and locked onto Naruto with all the violence of a chessmaster about to checkmate in three moves.
Sasuke's eyes locked on Naruto from across the sticky table, the bar's dim lighting casting shadows that made his glare even more intense. "Uzumaki," he said, voice cutting through the ambient chatter and clinking glasses.
Naruto's throat dried up completely. He shifted uncomfortably in the cramped booth, his knee bumping the table leg, nearly toppling his half-empty glass. "Uh, these are my friends. Lee and Gaara." The words tumbled out as Lee's arm tightened protectively around his shoulders.
Sasuke's gaze lingered on that arm for three heartbeats before sliding to where Gaara's fingers still rested over Naruto's hand. His jaw tightened. "Pleasure," he said, the word sharp as broken glass.
Suigetsu slid into the booth first, uninvited, his hip shoving Naruto further against Lee's side. "Hope you don't mind if we join you," he said, before immediately ordering two drinks from a passing server with a flick of his hand. "Busy night."
Sasuke remained standing, one hand gripping the back of the booth so hard his knuckles whitened, looming over them in the confined space. His shadow fell across Naruto's face. "We're here for a meeting," he said, eyes darting to where Lee's shoulder pressed against Naruto's.
"Yeah, same," Naruto managed, voice cracking as he tried to create distance between himself and Lee without success in the packed booth. "Just—catching up with friends."
Suigetsu, watching the tension unfold, grinned wider. "Didn't take you for a social butterfly, Naruto. Must be a special occasion."
Gaara's thumb moved almost imperceptibly over Naruto's knuckles. Lee's arm remained firmly around Naruto's shoulders. Sasuke's eyes tracked both movements like a predator.
"I hope the project's not suffering for it," Sasuke said, leaning in closer, the smell of expensive cologne mixing with the bar's scent of beer and fried food. "We're under a tight deadline."
Naruto's elbow knocked against a nearby empty shot glass as he tried to appear casual. "It's fine. I work better when I'm—relaxed."
Lee, oblivious to the daggers Sasuke was glaring at his arm, raised his glass. "To deadlines! And to the tireless passion of creative teams!" He clinked his glass against Naruto's, cider sloshing across the lip and into Naruto's lap, forcing him to press even closer to Lee as he tried to avoid the spill.
Sasuke's eyes did not leave Naruto's, even as he responded to Suigetsu. "Some people work best under pressure. Others collapse." His fingers tapped once against the table edge, a single deliberate movement that somehow made the wood seem fragile.
Gaara's lips barely moved behind his glass. "You'd be surprised what people survive." He set his drink down with surgical precision, exactly where a drop of condensation had formed on the table. "And what breaks them."
Naruto, caught between the vise of Lee's arm and Gaara's hand, felt his throat close. The air between Sasuke and Gaara crackled like a live wire over water. He tried for a laugh that came out strangled. "It's just a job, Sasuke. I'll have the pages ready."
"Good," Sasuke said, the word dropping like a stone through ice. His gaze flicked to where Gaara's fingers curled possessively over Naruto's.
Gaara's hand slid from Naruto's, but not before giving it one last, uncharacteristically gentle squeeze.
Sasuke turned suddenly to Suigetsu. "Get us drinks. They're taking too long." Suigetsu's shoulders slumped slightly but he scooted out of the booth to head to the bar.