The Academy was a storm.
Naruto had barely stepped into the courtyard when the kids swarmed him like bees on honey.
Especially the girls.
Mini tornadoes of curiosity, excitement, and chaos.
“Naruto-sensei!”
“Is it true you’re getting married?!”
“Who is she?!”
“Is she pretty?!”
“Did you knock a girl up?!”
“Is she older than you?!”
“Was it Sakura?! Or maybe Ino?!”
Naruto’s eye twitched.
“W-What does knocking up even—? No! I didn’t knock anyone up!”
More questions.
Screams.
Blushing.
Laughter.
A feral game of guess-the-bride broke out.
“Clone Jutsu!” Poof!
One unfortunate shadow clone was left to manage the chaos, doing crowd control with a forced smile and barely concealed panic.
Naruto made his escape into the building.
He weaved through the halls, stopping at a familiar door.
Iruka’s office.
Inside, the older man sat stiffly, eyes glued to the front page of Konoha Daily.
That damn headline again.
“Peace Hero Naruto Uzumaki Soon to Wed!”
Iruka’s brow was furrowed deep enough to crack stone.
As Naruto stepped in, Iruka stood abruptly.
“Naruto!
What is the meaning of this?
Why are you getting married?!
Who is she?!
Why so soon?!
Did you knock a girl up?!
Is she older than you?!
Is it Sakura?!
Ino?!
Someone from your peers?
Or someone else entirely?!”
“Sensei—please!” Naruto flailed his arms, red in the face.
“Calm down!”
Iruka’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
Naruto scratched the back of his neck.
“It’s Sasuke.”
A pause.
Dead silence.
Iruka blinked.
“…You knocked the Sasuke Uchiha up?!”
“Gah—No! Would everyone stop saying that?! I didn’t do anything! It’s just—she’s being targeted for execution. The Nations are paranoid. But Kakashi-sensei got them to agree to spare her if she gives up her Shinobi status and… becomes a civilian wife. So, uh… they picked me.” Read this novel at novelping . com for the best experience.
Iruka stared, lips parted slightly.
“That’s…”
“I had a plan, y’know! Disguise, fake death, smuggle her out to Ame. But she—she accepted the damn proposal.”
Iruka sank back down into his chair.
“That’s… heavy, Naruto. And how is she taking it?”
Naruto shrugged helplessly.
“Calm. Cold. Like usual. I can’t even tell what she’s really thinking…”
There was a long beat of silence, filled only by the distant laughter of kids through the windows.
“Anyway,” Naruto muttered, rubbing his arm, “the wedding’s tomorrow and, uh… I was wondering if you’d be my dad figure? You know… for the ritual part.”
Iruka stared.
Then his throat moved as he swallowed hard.
His hands clenched on the desk.
And finally, his voice broke as he said, softly—
“Yes.”
—T~T—
Sasuke sat quietly, back straight, legs folded beneath her, the silence of the guest room a strange thing—so different from the hush of a battlefield, or the quiet of mourning.
This silence was gentle, too gentle.
It gave her thoughts the space to wander.
Her mind drifted to the faint scent of camellias and steaming rice.
A memory.
Her mother, Mikoto, combing her hair when she was just a child—tiny, stubborn, and fierce even then.
“Tell me the story again,” little Sasuke would say.
Mikoto would chuckle, brushing gently through tangled locks.
“The one about the prince?”
“Yeah. The one who comes riding on a white fox. The one who saves the princess and they live happily ever after.”
“You want to be the princess?”
“No way.” Her younger self had huffed, arms crossed.
“Princesses just sit there. I wanna be the one with the sword!”
“Then maybe you’ll save the prince someday.”
“Okay! Then I’ll save Big Brother!”
“You can’t marry your own brother,” Mikoto had said gently, laughter in her voice.
“Why not? Big Brother is like a prince! And he lets me ride on his shoulders!”
“Maybe someday you’ll find someone like him.”
“Pfft, no way! He’s the best! No one’s like Nii-san.”
Mikoto had smiled then.
Soft.
Wise.
As if she knew something even time hadn’t dared to whisper yet.
But now, sitting here years and scars later, Sasuke couldn’t help but smirk bitterly.
If only that little girl knew.
That her future wasn’t a grand palace or a battlefield of honor—but this.
A guest room turned holding cell.
Surveillance in the walls.
A marriage out of diplomacy.
A husband-to-be who once shoved noodles up his nose when dared.
The kid who used to yell about ramen and Hokageship in the same breath.
The boy who, in winter, always had a runny nose and in summer, never bothered to wash his face.
Naruto Uzumaki. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Her fiancé.
Life didn’t make sense.
And perhaps it never would.
But even so…
She had accepted the proposal—for him.
Because she didn’t care about execution.
She’d made her peace.
She had lived in vengeance, bathed in blood and regret.
She had tried to kill the very hands that had reached out for her.
She had broken more than bones—she had broken trust, faith, hearts.
But he…
Naruto.
He never let go.
And she knew—she knew—if she died, a part of him would too.
Not his body.
His spirit.
So, yes, maybe it was selfish.
Maybe she didn’t deserve him.
But if saving herself would keep him whole… then she would do it.
For him.
Just for him.
The door creaked open.
Sasuke turned sharply, muscles tense—until she saw the ANBU enter.
A slender figure, face hidden behind a feline mask.
Silently, the ANBU wheeled in a tall frame draped in a long cloth.
“What’s that?” Sasuke asked, voice flat.
The ANBU said nothing, merely stepped aside.
Sasuke rose, brows furrowing as she gripped the veil and pulled it aside.
Her breath caught.
It was white.
Pure white silk, aged by time yet lovingly preserved.
Embroidered cranes across the hem.
A sash the color of plum wine.
The scent—faint but unmistakable—of camellia and sandalwood.
It was her mother’s wedding kimono.
“…Why?” she asked quietly, more to herself.
The ANBU finally spoke.
“Uzumaki-san insisted.”
Sasuke turned slowly.
“Lord Hokage personally fetched it from the Uchiha clan vault,” the ANBU added, before vanishing like mist.
Sasuke stared at the fabric for a long, long time.
Then, wordlessly, she reached out, brushing her fingers over it—ghosts of memory dancing in every thread.
A child’s dream.
A mother’s smile.
A brother’s shadow.
And now—Naruto.
That loud, foolish, golden idiot.
She exhaled.
“…Tch. Baka.”