First Naruto thing I ever really wrote--it's a drabble, so it's short, and it's pretty trippy. I mean, there's a lot of symbolism in it--it's a very interesting view on the characters, actually. ...
"It's only Tuesday," is his reply, and it's odd, coming out of Naruto's long, blunt muzzle. It sounds like a snarl, though he isn't angry.
"Be careful not to kill my parents again," Iruka-sensei says matter-of-factly, and he's walking arm-in-arm with the Third; Naruto scratches the back of his head with a guilty smile. "I won't, Iruka-/sensei/!"
And he runs off down the street to the noodle shop. Sasuke is running behind him, only now he's wearing Itachi's red and black cloak and looks through Itachi's Mangekyou eyes. "I'll eat with you," he says, smiling still. It is not unkind.
Kakashi is working behind the counter and he's wearing a chef's hat down over his right eye and a little medical mask over his mouth and nose. He says as they approach, "Naruto-kun, Sasuke-kun. I've taken a part-time job over the sumer--Jiraiya's been writing nonstop, and I require sufficient funds to keep pace. The romance is really... developing..." he drifts off and serves them all a Special, on the house.
Sasuke taps his chopsticks together, then starts eating one of them; Naruto shakes his head, two of nine tails whipping the bits of wood from his hands. "No, Sasuke, you have to eat the bowl first."
"Oh... right," and Sasuke is smiling again, and it's with Itachi's mouth, but Itachi must be dead because Sasuke isn't and Naruto is a fox.
"Sakura-chan broke today," Kakashi says idly. "I think she was trying to fix Lee-kun," and there is a moment of silence as a bird flies overhead. "He was playing shogi with Gaara-kun, and broke his hand."
Sasuke nods sagely. "Those rooks."
Naruto is suddenly filled with an impenetrable sadness; and blinded by it, he finds that there is a swirl around his mind that doesn't make sense, that Sexy no Jutsu kind of cloud that covers all the good bits; and he leans over and kisses Sasuke.
When Naruto wakes up, he's human again and there is sweat in his hair and a chill breeze through the window and he fights to recall eyes receding back, away, closed; fights to remember, but he can't, and then there is Sasuke's forehead protecter with the scratch through it, on the bedside table, and the only thing relating his world to the dream was that same, massive despair.
He wonders how long it will last.