Chapter Text
🌟🌟🌟
There was no better smell than a ball field at the crack of dawn.
The red dirt was still damp, the chalk lines freshly dragged, the outfield grass cut so clean and level it looked painted on. Naruto stopped just inside the gate and took a deep breath, let the crisp fall air fill his lungs all the way to the bottom.
Somewhere past the backstop, a metal bat cracked. The sound echoed off the empty bleachers and rolled out toward the mountains.
He still couldn't believe he was here.
He'd made it. Not because of one big moment, but because of all the small ones stacked up. Every grueling drill in July heat, every camp check-in where he wrote his name too big on the tag, every travel team where he was the loud kid in the back of the van, every night in his backyard throwing at the fence until his mom yelled about the dents.
Konoha University. Fall ball. The school's practice jersey with his last name stitched on the back.
Naruto pulled the brim of his hat down and grinned to himself. For about ten seconds, it was just him and the field and that perfect smell.
Then he saw Sasuke.
Same black hair under the red practice hat, same loose stance by the cage, already taking soft toss like he'd been here for years. Sasuke glanced up, saw Naruto, and his face did exactly what Naruto expected it to do. Nothing.
That was the cue. Naruto hitched his bag higher and started across the dirt toward the one person who had once been his goal, and the one person who'd spent the last four years pretending he didn't exist.
Which sucked, considering Naruto had once considered the guy his best friend.
⚾️⚾️⚾️
Light filtered through the trees, freckling Naruto's nose as the wind rushed through the car and tussled his golden hair.
"Naruto," his father called from the front seat, "roll up that window, you're messing up your mother's hair."
He pretended he didn't hear him. Instead he held his arm out the window and let the mountain air lift his palm, then dive, flying a hand-plane the way ten-year-olds do when the road climbs and the air turns cold.
"Naruto. Window."
His mother turned around, laughing as she tried to pin her fiery red strands. "He's fine, dear. A little air won't kill us, ya know?"
His duffle was wedged tight against the seat, zipper straining around cleats that were still too clean, a glove he'd oiled three nights in a row, and two weeks of shirts his mom had folded and refolded. Every bump made the bag thump his calves and he could smell the leather through the canvas.
"Naruto," his dad tried again, softer now, "you're gonna freeze that arm off before camp even starts."
"Oh, cool it, Minato, he's just excited." She glanced back. "Isn't that right, Naruto?"
He yanked his arm in just long enough to nod hard, then shot it back out. "Coach said we get the field by the creek. Two weeks, Mom. Two whole weeks."
The car kept climbing toward the aspens. The turnoff came up fast after the last switchback.
His dad eased off the gas and the tires left pavement for gravel. Naruto had to pull his arm in then, his fingers coming back cold and pink. He wiped them on his shorts without looking.
A hand-painted sign leaned between two pines: BASEBALL CAMP CHECK-IN → with an arrow that pointed down toward the creek. Below it the trees opened and you could see it all at once, three dusty diamonds cut into the meadow, a row of low cabins, kids already whipping out their mitts and throwing a ball, itching to get started as bad as he was.
"Window up now, bud," his dad said, quieter this time, and Naruto hit the switch himself. The sudden quiet made the car feel small.
Naruto didn't wait for the jeep to fully stop. He had the door cracked, one sneaker on the gravel, the strap of his duffle clutched in his fist. The air out here was colder than on the road, pine and dust and fresh-cut grass, and somewhere a bat cracked and a bunch of boys shouted.
Gripping his duffle tight, Naruto bounced on his toes, blue eyes twinkling. Ten whole years of waiting and he was finally here. He could already smell that red dirt and chalk.
His dad popped the trunk and came around with his bat bag. He put his big hand on top of Naruto's wind-tangled hair and messed it worse. "Two weeks," he said. "You listen to your coaches. You call if you need anything." Bending down to his son's level, his eyes serious, "No pranks. No trouble."
"I won't," he said a little too quickly, already giggling at the whoopee cushion and can of fart spray he hid in his bag.
"Mind your manners," his mom chimed in, wrapping her arms around him tight and making his cheek squish. "Have so much fun you forget to miss us," she whispered.
Naruto grinned as he wiggled away. He hoisted the duffle that was almost as big as he was. He didn't look back at the car. He looked at the field by the creek, at the other ten-year-olds dragging their gear to the flagpole.
He took off at a half-run, duffle banging his leg, turning while walking backwards to give one last wave, "Love you! Bye!" Then flipping back around and forgetting his life before he got there existed.
Hustling through the crowd, he squeezed his way to the front, ignoring the grumbles of those he pushed past.
Standing in front were two men in ball caps. One held a clipboard, the other a whistle, then gave up and grabbed a bullhorn when nobody listened. "You boys better buck up and sit your butts down for roll call and bunk assignments," his voice rattled the needles in the pines.
Naruto plopped down on the grass and unzipped his bag to pull out his brand-new glove, wanting to look ready, wanting to make his mark.
"Anderson, Carl," the clipboard coach began. With every name, Naruto's legs bounced. Not hearing any other name as he listened for his own.
"Uzumaki, Naruto..." His blue eyes shot wide as he hopped up.
"Your number one rookie is here!" he shouted, pounding his fist into his glove. "All you guys better watch out, I'm gonna be runnin' laps and wipin' the mound with every last one of ya!"
The coach lowered the bullhorn and gave him a long, flat stare. "Uzumaki. That's a here, then?"
"That's a here, sir, yes sir, number one, sir!" Naruto snapped a salute with the hand that still had the glove on it. The glove flopped off and landed in the dirt.
A kid two rows back muttered "oh brother" and a couple others laughed.
The coach made his check mark, then circled the name twice... already having a feeling it was one he was going to be saying, or shouting, often, "Runnin' laps. Son, you just tripped over your own glove standing still. Let's see you run to your bunk first."
Naruto scooped the glove up, pounded his fist in it again, and plopped back down hard enough to puff dust off his shorts. He was grinning ear to ear, missing that the glove squeaked every time he closed it.
"What a loser..."
Naruto's grin sharpened. He twisted left and locked onto the kid who'd muttered it, hunched over picking at the grass, jet black hair hanging over his eyes with a stubborn duck-butt in back.
"What'd you call me?" Naruto said, loud enough that the whispering stopped.
The kid flicked another piece of grass away. "I said what a loser. A loud one."
"Why-I-oughta, I'm gonna... I'm gonna kick your butt!"
The kid huffed. "Sure. By the way, your glove is on the wrong hand. Loser."
Naruto looked down at his gloved right hand, swapped it to his left fast, and got louder. "No I'm not! I'm practicing using both! Like a switch hitter for the field! You're just not cool enough to know how." He stuck out his tongue.
The black-haired kid finally looked up, just enough for Naruto to see one dark eye. He flicked another piece of grass at Naruto's shoe. "You're annoying."
The clipboard coach cleared his throat. "Uzumaki. Kid With The Hair. You two want to keep doing comedy hour, you can do it while you run the bases. Five laps."
Naruto leaned forward, elbows on his knees, glove squeaking. "What's your name anyway, Duck-butt?"
The kid hunched back over his grass. "Sasuke."
"Sasuke," Naruto repeated, mentally labeling him enemy number one, "be ready to eat my dust."
The coach didn't wait. He yanked the bullhorn. "Bases. Now." He pointed toward the nearest diamond.
Naruto yanked his glove off and shoved it in his bag, jogging to home plate. "This is all your fault, jerk," he spat as Sasuke finally met him there.
He took a breath and smiled. I'm gonna laugh in this guy's face when I'm sliding home and he's still rounding first. He chuckled, until he noticed Sasuke wasn't even at home with him. By the time Naruto blinked, snapped back to reality, Sasuke was halfway between first and second, black hair lifting, running like he did it in his sleep.
"Hey!" Naruto yelled, and launched himself after him.
He hit first hard, already breathing louder than he wanted. Sasuke was already heading back to first by the time Naruto crossed third.
He pumped his arms, but he never caught up.
Naruto finally finished and made it in almost twenty seconds behind, bending over with his hands on his knees. He straightened fast and forced a grin, but his chest was still heaving.
Sasuke stood at home, arms loose, not even a bead of sweat on his forehead. That small smug smirk was still there.
"Took you long enough," Sasuke said smugly.
Naruto wiped his forehead and pointed. "Yeah, well, I let you win the practice run. Wouldn't be fair otherwise. Plus, you're lucky I'm in my sneakers, barely any traction. Now if I was in my cleats..." He poked Sasuke's chest. "Just wait, next time I'm gonna..."
Sasuke rolled his eyes and started jogging back to the flag. "Hey!" Naruto jolted forward to catch up.
Everyone else had their assignments and were scattering by the time they got back.
"Hope that is all out of your system," the coach said, bored as he flipped his paper. "Uzumaki, Naruto, bunkhouse seven, bottom bunk. Uchiha, Sasuke..." He paused. "Well, this is going to be fun. Bunkhouse seven, top bunk."
Naruto shot straight up. "WHAT? No way! You can't put me with him! He’s an aaaaa….jerk!” quickly correcting course to not have to run bases again by letting a bad word slip, “He started it! This is bunkhouse sabotage! I demand a trade!"
Sasuke didn't look up. He rolled his eyes so slow you could see it, slung his bag over his shoulder, and started walking toward the cabins.
"Oh, you're just gonna walk away?" Naruto scrambled after him, bat bag clinging to his shoulder while his duffle bounced off every root. "That's your whole plan? Eye rolls and silence? Real mature, Sasuke!"
Sasuke kept walking.
"I'm serious! I snore! I talk in my sleep! Probably about how many more homers I'm gonna get than you!"
Nothing.
"And I'm taking the bottom bunk. It's closer to the door for midnight training runs. You get the top because you're tall and you like heights and you're annoying up there!"
Sasuke sighed through his nose, just enough to let Naruto know he'd heard him.
Naruto hopped over a root to catch up. "Fine! Be quiet! See if I care! I'm gonna be the best bunkmate you've ever had and you're gonna hate it!"
By the time bunkhouse seven came into view, Sasuke was still a step ahead, still quiet. Naruto was still talking, already plotting how he was going to get back at the kid, completely missing the tiny twitch at the corner of Sasuke's mouth that might have been a smile.
The screen door banged shut behind them.
Dinner was sloppy joes, corn that was mostly butter, and a tray of yellow jello cups that the kitchen lady set down like she was dealing cards.
Naruto’s tray hit the table hard. He was still going on about the bases and talking with his mouth full. “I’m just saying, if I didn’t have my slick-as-snake-snot sneakers on, you would’ve been toast, Duck-butt.”
Sasuke didn’t look up from his corn. “You would have tripped on your laces.”
There were eight boys at the table and seven jello cups. Naruto saw it at the same time Sasuke did. They both went for the last one.
Their hands hit the plastic at the exact same second.
“Mine,” Naruto said, already pulling. “I ran extra. I earned it.”
“You lost,” Sasuke said, not letting go.
Coach Ebisu walked past with his own tray, didn’t even slow down. “Split it or lose it, gentlemen.”
Sasuke sighed through his nose, the way he did everything. He peeled the foil lid, flipped the cup over onto his empty plate, and tapped the bottom until the whole yellow jello plopped out in one wobbly tower.
He took his plastic spoon and cut it straight down the middle. Two perfect, jiggling halves.
He slid the plate across the table and pushed Naruto’s half toward him without looking at him.
Naruto stared at it, offended. “That’s it?”
“What?” Sasuke said flatly.
“You took the bigger half!”
Sasuke finally glanced up, one dark eyebrow raised. He picked up his own wiggly piece and took one slow, deliberate bite while Naruto watched it wobble.
Naruto scooped his half up in one go, then immediately eyed Sasuke’s plate. “You gonna finish that?”
Sasuke didn’t answer. He just took another tiny bite, then lifted his tray six inches out of reach and kept eating.
Naruto kicked him under the table. Sasuke didn’t flinch.
After dinner it was the rest of the first-day blur. Campfire where Coach Ebisu read the rules off a clipboard like it was the law. Showers that were freezing. A walk back to the cabins in the dark with flashlights.
Naruto spent the whole time still mad about the jello. Sasuke had eaten his half one tiny bite at a time all the way back to the bunkhouse, just to be annoying.
By the time Ebisu did bed check and said “lights out in ten, I’m hitting the other cabins first,” Naruto was bouncing again for a different reason.
He’d been holding it since the mess hall because he didn’t want to miss anything. Now the bathrooms were across the gravel path and the rule was no leaving the bunk after dark without supervision.
Ebisu was late.
Sasuke was already in the top bunk, arms folded behind his head.
Naruto looked at the empty counselor bed. Then at his duffle bag.
Vengeance was required.
He grinned to himself and made a break for his duffle. He dug past clean socks and an extra t-shirt until his fingers hit rubber. Out came the whoopee cushion. He quickly inflated it before he smoothed the counselor’s covers, slid the cushion right in the middle where a butt would land, and fluffed the pillow over it like he was making a hotel bed.
The can of fart spray was next. He palmed it behind his back and turned just in time to see Sasuke watching him from the top bunk, one eyebrow up, arms folded on the rail.
Sasuke didn’t say anything. He just stared.
Naruto held up the can like it was a trophy. “What? He’s late,” he whispered, loud enough for the whole cabin to hear. “Somebody oughta teach him a lesson.”
From the bunk by the window, one of the other kids snorted. “You’re gonna get us killed, Uzumaki.”
“Yeah,” Naruto said, bouncing on his toes, “but it’s gonna be hilarious!”
The screen door banged and Coach Ebisu shuffled in, hoodie half zipped, clipboard tucked under his arm like a shield. He was maybe twenty-one, had the tired eyes of someone who had already done bed check for three other cabins, and he smelled faintly like bug spray.
He stopped just inside the doorway and took in eight boys in various stages of pajamas, one kid doing a full pee-pee dance in the middle of the floor, and the others watching him suspiciously.
“Lights out was ten minutes ago,” Ebisu said. “Why are you all still awake?”
Naruto kept the can hidden behind his back and tried to look angelic. It did not work because he was still hopping from foot to foot. “We were waiting for you, Coach. Safety in numbers. Rule number one. I gotta take a wiz. Ya know?”
“I think you can hold it, kid. Should have gone before lights out.” Ebisu dropped his clipboard on his little desk, kicked off his shoes, and flopped down hard on his bunk by the door without even pulling the covers back.
Naruto was ready. The second Ebisu’s butt hit the mattress, Naruto hit the button on the can behind his back.
PFFFFFFFFT went the whoopee cushion, but it wasn’t a clean cartoon toot. It was wet and warm and went on forever, like someone sitting on a water balloon full of gravy.
PSSSSSSST went the fart spray.
For one perfect second, the cabin exploded with laughter. The kid by the window fell off his bunk. Two boys in the corner bunk started howling and pounding the mattress. Naruto doubled over, cackling so hard he had to cross his legs.
Then the smell trickled on in.
It bloomed and filled the small cabin in an instant— sucking out any air and replaced it with nothing but the smell of poor life choices and chemical rot. Like warm gas station sushi followed by a cup of sour milk. Putrid and sickly.
The laughter turned into choking and dry heaves. Kids grabbed pillows and shoved them over their faces. Someone yelled “OH MY GOD.”
Up on the top bunk, Sasuke pressed his lips together so tight his cheeks went pink. His shoulders shook once with a laugh, then he immediately buried his face in his pillow and coughed.
Ebisu shot up, eyes watering, waving a hand in front of his nose. He reached behind him and pulled out the bright red whoopee cushion like he was presenting evidence in a murder trial.
He held it up in one hand and scanned the room for the culprit.
Naruto was still up in the middle of the room, doing his pee dance, looking guilty as hell.
“Uzumaki,” Ebisu wheezed.
Naruto threw both hands in the air, can and all. “It wasn’t me!”
Ebisu stared at the can, then at Naruto hopping in place. “Give me that!” confiscating the cruel can immediately. “Bathroom. Whole cabin. Before somebody passes out.”
Eight boys stampeded for the door in socks and slides, covering their noses. Naruto was first out, sprinting like his life depended on it. Sasuke was last, moving at his usual not-impressed pace, only the large gasp of fresh air the moment he walked outside indicated he was hit by the stench at all.
Outside, the cold pine air was the best smell in the world. Naruto made it to the bathhouse with seconds to spare and came out a new man.
On the walk back, he fell into step beside Sasuke. “Did you see his face?” he whispered, vibrating. “Did you hear it? Did you smell it?”
Sasuke kept his eyes forward and pulled his shirt up over his nose.
“You’re welcome.”
Back in bunkhouse seven, Ebisu had all the windows cracked open and was standing by the door with his arms crossed. He pointed at the floor. “Ten pushups. All of you. Pajama punishment.”
Groans went up, but they dropped. Naruto got to three and collapsed face-first, giggling into the floorboards. Sasuke knocked out ten perfect ones without breathing hard, then sat back on his heels and watched Naruto flop.
Ebisu finally cracked, just a little. “Lights out. For real this time. Uzumaki, if I hear or smell anything else, you’re running bases at dawn.”
“Yes, sir,” Naruto said from the floor.
Ebisu clicked off the lantern. The cabin went dark except for the little nightlight by the door and the faint lingering stink.
From the bottom bunk, Naruto whispered up into the dark, “Hey, Sasuke. You awake?”
A long pause. Then from the top bunk, quiet and flat and a little stuffy from the smell, “Obviously.”
Naruto grinned into his pillow. “Best first day ever.”
Sasuke rolled over. In the dark, nobody could see it, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Worst,” he said.
But Naruto knew that the jerk was lying.
⚾️⚾️⚾️
The bugle was terrible. It sounded like someone stepping on a duck at 6:30 in the morning.
Naruto sat straight up in the bottom bunk, bright eyed and bushy tailed. He was already in his practice uniform before his feet hit the cold floor, navy shorts, knee-high socks with a navy stripe up the sides, and the camp practice button-up with UZUMAKI printed across the shoulders and his lucky number 9 right below it.
Outside the air was sharp and piney and still had a little bite to it. Coach Ebisu stood by home plate with a whistle and a travel mug that said World's Okayest Coach.
"Warmups," Ebisu called. "Six laps. High knees, butt kickers. Move it."
Naruto actually kept up. He hit the line right in the middle of the pack, breathing hard and grinning.
Then Sasuke ran.
He didn't try to show off. He just went. High knees clean, butt kickers perfect, and when Ebisu blew the whistle for bases he was gone. First to home, first to second, first to third, like the bases were set closer for him than everyone else.
Watching him made Naruto lift his own knees higher without thinking.
Ebisu pointed the whistle at the batting cage. "Uzumaki. You're up. Machine's set to medium."
Naruto jogged to his gear bag by the bench and pulled out his trusty bat and walked over like he owned the place. He pulled his helmet down low, tapped the plate twice with the barrel, and settled in. Number 9 on his back, shoulders square.
The pitching machine whirred and clunked.
First ball came in fast and straight. Naruto swung big and early, way too eager. He missed clean and spun halfway around from the effort. The ball thumped into the back net.
A couple kids snickered from the bench.
Naruto just grinned and reset his feet. He stepped out, knocked the dirt off his cleats, tapped the plate twice again, and pointed the bat at the machine, “okay, my turn.”
The machine whirred again.
This time he waited. He watched the ball all the way in and unloaded.
Crack.
It jumped off his bat hard and sailed over left field and smacked the fence on one hop. Loud and clean.
Third pitch. Whirr, clunk. He stayed short and quick and drove it right back up the middle, so fast the machine almost got it’s ball fed back into it. It whistled past Ebisu's travel mug and rattled the back net.
Ebisu actually nodded. "That's more like it, nine."
Naruto jogged out of the cage feeling his heart hammering in his ears, in a good way. He'd missed one, sure, but he'd smashed the next two right where he wanted them. He tapped the dirt off his bat and leaned it against the fence by his bag, then looked over at the line.
Sasuke was already walking up, bat resting on his shoulder, not in a hurry.
Sure, he could run… but could the jerk hit?
Sasuke didn't tap the plate. He just set his feet and looked at the machine like it was no threat.
First pitch. Crack. The ball took off on a line and kept rising until it cleared the center field fence and disappeared into the pine trees past the camp sign.
Second pitch. Same swing. Same sound. This one went even farther, way over the right field fence, and hit a tree with a dull thonk.
Ebisu just took a sip from his mug. "Next."
Sasuke walked back to the line. Totally indifferent. Like he had expected nothing less.
Naruto was still standing with his arms crossed so tight his knuckles went white. His own two line drives suddenly felt stupid.
God damn it.
Batting was his thing. That was the one thing he was supposed to be better at. He was the kid who practically lived at the batting cage at home and now this quiet jerk with the perfect high knees just put two balls into the woods like it was nothing.
He kicked at the dirt by the fence and scowled. He wasn't going to admit it looked cool. He wasn't going to admit anything.
Naruto grabbed his bat off the fence harder than he needed to. He wasn't buzzing with respect, he was just mad. Mad enough to stay after practice. Mad enough to take a hundred more swings until his hands stung.
Lunch bell rang at twelve and the whole camp smelled like grilled cheese and tomato soup.
Naruto didn't go.
He dropped his bat by home plate and just started running. Home to first, first to second, second to third. He focused on getting his knees up high the way Sasuke did, not the sloppy jog he'd done that morning. He pumped his arms hard, too hard at first, and almost tripped rounding second.
He did it again. And again.
By the fifth lap his legs were shaking. He rounded third too wide and nearly ate dirt, caught himself, and kept going anyway.
Field practice was at one, so Naruto finally gave up on the bases and jogged back to the cabin with his shirt plastered to him and dirt on both knees.
He pushed the screen door open and went straight for his water bottle.
Something small hit him right in the forehead and bounced onto his pillow.
Sasuke was already up in the top bunk, legs dangling over the edge, digging through his duffel bag like he hadn't just thrown anything.
"You didn't eat," Sasuke said, not even looking down.
Naruto picked the granola bar up. Chewy chocolate chip. He scowled up at the bottom of the bunk.
"So?" he said, ripping it open anyway because his stomach was screaming. "What are you, my mom?"
"You run like crap when you're hungry," the jerk said.
Naruto shoved half the bar in his mouth in one bite, mostly so he didn't have to say thank you. He chewed, still sweaty and still mad, and stared at that stupid knot in the wood.
🌟🌟🌟
Back on the Konoha University turf, their days in bunkhouse seven years behind them, but the feeling was the same.
Naruto hitched his bag higher and started across the damp dirt toward Sasuke at the cage. Sasuke glanced up, saw him coming, and walked straight into his path.
The shoulder hit hard enough to rock Naruto back a step.
"Stay out of my way, Uzumaki" Sasuke said, low and flat, and kept walking without looking back.