Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing Sasuke noticed when he woke up was the pain. It was dull but deep, rooted in his bones like a wound too old to heal properly. His left arm, what remained of it, throbbed, and he gritted his teeth against the hollow ache. The ground beneath him was damp, sticky with blood and dirt. His blood. Naruto’s blood.  

Slowly, he forced his eyes open. The sky above was dull gray, dawn struggling to break through the storm clouds. The air smelled like iron and rain, the aftermath of their battle still clinging to the earth.  

And then, he heard it.  

A weak, ragged breath.  

Sasuke turned his head, ignoring the protest of his muscles, and found Naruto lying beside him. Unmoving.  

His heart clenched. “Oi,” he rasped, his throat dry from blood and exhaustion. “Naruto.”  

No response.  

Something cold crept up Sasuke’s spine. He could see Naruto’s chest moving but barely, each breath shallow, struggling. His body was a mess of cuts, burns, and bruises, but Sasuke had seen Naruto bounce back from worse. This wasn’t just exhaustion. Something was wrong.  

He forced himself upright, hissing at the pain that lanced through his body. He barely registered the missing weight of his left arm—there were more pressing concerns. Naruto’s chakra felt… off. Too weak. Too unstable. 

Sasuke clenched his fist. “Damn it, dobe. Wake up.”  

Nothing.  

For the first time in years, fear coiled in his gut.  

Sasuke reached out with his remaining hand and shook Naruto’s shoulder, harder than necessary, just to get a reaction. A groan. A twitch. Anything. But—

Naruto didn’t move.

His breathing hitched, uneven, and Sasuke swore under his breath. His fingers curled into Naruto’s tattered jacket, gripping tightly as if that alone could keep him anchored here, alive.   

“Don’t you dare,” Sasuke muttered, voice sharp, but his hands were shaking. “Don’t you dare pull this shit now, Naruto.”  

Still, nothing.  

A gust of wind blew through the valley, stirring the dust and the scent of blood. The statues of their ancestors loomed above them, silent witnesses to their destruction. It should have been over. They were supposed to go back to Konoha together, just like Naruto always wanted.  

So why did it feel like Sasuke was about to lose him?  

Footsteps. Fast, urgent.  

Sasuke’s head snapped up just as a blur of pink and green rushed toward them.  

“Sasuke-kun! Naruto—!” Sakura dropped to her knees beside them, hands already glowing with chakra as she pressed them against Naruto’s chest. Her expression twisted in horror. “His chakra is—oh god, it’s—”  

“What’s wrong with him?” Sasuke demanded.  

“I—I don’t know,” Sakura stammered, her voice shaking. “His chakra is leaking, but it’s not just his. It’s—Kurama’s.”  

Sasuke’s blood ran cold.  

As if on cue, Naruto’s body jerked, his back arching slightly before slumping back down. His breathing grew even more erratic, his lips parting as if he was trying to speak. Sasuke leaned in, heart pounding.  

“…Sasuke…” Naruto’s voice was barely a whisper, a ghost of sound between them. Sasuke hated how weak it was. Naruto had never been weak.  

“I’m right here, dobe,” he muttered.  

Naruto’s eyelids fluttered. His gaze was unfocused, but he was looking at him. Not at Sakura, not at the ruins around them. At him . 

Something inside Sasuke cracked.  

“I think…” Naruto swallowed thickly, his voice hoarse. “I think I messed up.”  

Sasuke wanted to shake him. Wanted to yell at him for saying something so utterly stupid when he was lying there dying. But he couldn’t—because the fear had sunk its claws too deep, and Sasuke couldn’t lose him again.

“Yeah, you did,” he said instead, his voice rough. “So don’t you dare die here. That’s an order.”  

Naruto exhaled a weak chuckle. “Since… when do I take orders from you?”  

Sasuke felt a lump rise in his throat. “Since now.”  

His grip tightened on Naruto’s jacket, fingers digging into the fabric as if sheer willpower could hold him together.

Sakura’s chakra flared brighter. “We need to get him back to Konoha, now,” she said, panic edging her tone. “If this keeps up, he—he won’t survive the night.”

Sasuke refused to accept that. His heart pounded violently in his chest, each beat echoing like a death knell. His hands trembled as he hovered over Naruto’s broken body, his fingers curling into fists to steady himself. Blood soaked through Naruto’s clothes, staining the earth beneath him, a stark, horrifying reminder of just how close he was to slipping away.

No.

Sasuke’s vision blurred, and he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let the tears fall. Refusing to admit how terrified he was. How helpless he felt. This was Naruto. The idiot who always charged ahead, who never knew when to give up. Who made promises he’d die before breaking. Who believed in Sasuke even when no one else did.

His rival. His best friend. His everything.

The world couldn’t exist without him. Sasuke’s world couldn’t exist without him.

He had walked away from Naruto once. Had convinced himself that it was for the best, that power and vengeance were more important than the bonds he pretended not to need. He had severed those ties with his own hands, watching the pain in Naruto’s eyes as he did.

He’d hurt him. Over and over again. Had thrown his loyalty back in his face, had fought against him with every intention of destroying him. And still... Naruto never gave up on him. Never stopped trying to bring him home.

How many times had he turned his back on that outstretched hand? How many times had he let Naruto carry the weight of his sins?

And now...

Sasuke’s chest tightened painfully, a hollow ache that made it hard to breathe. Seeing Naruto like this—broken, bloodied, teetering on the edge of death—it was unbearable.

Because deep down, he knew.

This was his fault.

If he hadn’t left, if he hadn’t chosen revenge over the one person who always believed in him... Naruto wouldn’t be here now, fighting for his life. He wouldn’t be lying on the cold, unforgiving ground, his breaths shallow and uneven, his life slipping away with every passing second.

Sasuke’s hands clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms, pain shooting up his arms. But it was nothing compared to the agony tearing through his heart.

He had walked away once, but not this time.

This time, he’d stay. He’d fight. He’d save him.

Even if it meant breaking every rule, making every sacrifice.

Even if it meant selling his own soul to save him.

Because losing Naruto... it would shatter him. Destroy him in ways he’d never recover from.

Because Naruto was the light in his darkness, the hope he never knew he needed. The one person who made him feel like he wasn’t alone.

And Sasuke wasn’t losing him.

Not now. Not ever.

Chapter Text

The trip back to Konoha was a blur.

Sasuke barely remembered how they got there—only that Naruto’s breathing never stabilized. Each second felt like an eternity, a countdown to something he wasn’t ready to face. By the time they arrived, Naruto was half-conscious, slipping in and out of awareness, his body cold despite the feverish sweat on his skin.

Sasuke didn’t let go of him. Not once.

Not even when the medics arrived in a panic. Not when Sakura tried to push him back so they could work. Not even when Tsunade herself stormed into the hospital, her face a mask of cold determination.

“Sasuke, move,” she ordered, voice sharp.

“No.” It was instinct. A refusal torn from somewhere deep, somewhere desperate. The idea of leaving Naruto’s side—even for a second—was unthinkable.

Sakura looked up, panic tightening her features. “Sasuke-kun, please. We need space to—”

“No.”

She reached out to pull him away, and he wrenched himself from her grasp, a snarl on his lips. “Don’t touch me!” His voice cracked, raw with fear and fury. “I’m not leaving him.”

He didn’t care how desperate he sounded. He didn’t care if they thought he was being irrational. Naruto was dying, and they wanted him to just stand aside and do nothing.

No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Because if he let go... if he looked away... he was terrified that Naruto would slip away for good. His fingers tightened around Naruto’s cold, limp hand. His chest burned with every shaky breath Naruto took, each one a reminder of how fragile life was. How close he was to losing him.

A sharp pain lanced through him, twisting in his gut, and he realized he was afraid. Truly, gut-wrenchingly afraid. He had never been good at handling fear. Not when he was a child standing before his clan’s corpses, not when he faced Itachi, and not when he felt the emptiness of his own loneliness.

But this fear was different. It was paralyzing. It was suffocating.

It was the fear of losing the one person who meant everything to him.

The one person who never gave up on him.

“Sasuke.” Tsunade’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, firm and unyielding. “I need you to move. If you want him to live, you need to get out of the way.”

“No,” he repeated, his voice trembling. He hated how weak he sounded, how broken. But he couldn’t help it. “I... I can’t...”

Tsunade’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again. “You staying there won’t save him. But if you don’t move, he will die.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and his knees buckled. His grip on Naruto’s hand tightened, his vision blurring.

He couldn’t lose him. He just... couldn’t.

Not after everything they’d been through. Not after he finally understood just how much Naruto meant to him.

A hand settled on his shoulder, firm but gentle. Sakura’s voice was choked, her eyes red. “Sasuke-kun... please. Let us help him.”

He looked at her, seeing her pain, her fear. She was hurting too. But she was stronger than him, braver. Because she could let go. She could do what was needed.

He wasn’t that strong.

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “I won’t... I won’t let him die.” His voice broke, raw and desperate. “He can’t die. Not because of me.”

It was his fault. All of it. If he hadn’t pushed Naruto so hard, if he hadn’t been so consumed by his own darkness...

Naruto wouldn’t be lying here, fighting for his life.

A fresh wave of guilt crushed him, suffocating and relentless. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All he could see was Naruto’s broken body, all he could hear was his labored breathing, all he could feel was the coldness of his hand.

This was his punishment, wasn’t it? For all the pain he’d caused, for all the times he turned his back on the one person who always reached out to him.

This was his punishment for breaking Naruto’s heart.

Tsunade stepped forward, her eyes fierce. “If you want him alive, then shut up and let me work.”

Before he could react, a pulse of chakra slammed into him, shoving him back. He stumbled, his grip on Naruto slipping as his back hit the wall.

“No—!” He surged forward, but Sakura held him back, her strength surprising. “Let go! I need to—”

“If you go near him now, you’ll only get in the way!” she yelled, tears streaming down her face. “Do you want to kill him? Is that it?!”

Her words cut through him, freezing him in place. He stood there, trembling, his eyes fixed on Naruto.

Tsunade’s hands were already glowing with chakra, pressing firmly against Naruto’s chest. A golden light burst from Naruto’s body, twisting like wildfire, scorching the walls.

The air thickened with an unnatural heat, and Sasuke’s blood ran cold.

Kyuubi.

Naruto’s body tensed, his face contorted in pain, his fingers curling weakly into the sheets. He looked like he was fighting something.

And he was losing.

Tsunade cursed under her breath. “Damn it. His seal’s falling apart.”

A hollow terror gripped Sasuke, his heart dropping. “Why... why is this happening?”

Tsunade’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know yet. But if we don’t stabilize him, the Kyuubi will tear him apart from the inside out.”

No. No, that couldn’t happen. Not to Naruto. Not to the one person who was always so strong, so unbreakable.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

A sharp pain shot through his chest, so intense it felt like his ribs were splintering. He couldn’t breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in, the air too heavy, too suffocating.

This couldn’t be happening.

This was Naruto. Naruto, who always bounced back no matter how badly he was hurt. Naruto, who refused to give up, who kept chasing him even when everyone else had let go.

Naruto, who had saved him—again and again—without asking for anything in return.

Who had forgiven him.

Who had believed in him when he couldn’t even believe in himself.

And now…

His knees wobbled. He was falling, falling, but he caught himself, leaning heavily against the bed, his fingers digging into the mattress as he struggled to stay upright. He couldn’t fall apart. Not here. Not now.

But his vision blurred, and he realized belatedly that his eyes were burning. His Sharingan was still active, spinning wildly as if trying to memorize every detail of Naruto’s face. As if, somehow, that would keep him from slipping away.

Sasuke’s throat tightened. His chest ached. His hands were trembling. He’d been through pain before, had his body shattered and rebuilt more times than he could count. But this… this was different.

It felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out.

If Naruto died…

The thought alone was unbearable. It lodged itself in his chest, sharp and cold, making it hard to breathe.

If Naruto died, then everything he’d done—all the blood he’d spilled, all the sacrifices he’d made… it would all be for nothing.

Because Naruto was supposed to be there. To live. To survive.

To keep him tethered to this world.

He remembered that day, years ago, standing over Naruto’s fallen body in the Valley of the End. The rain had poured around them, washing away the blood and mud, and he’d stared down at him, feeling… empty.

Hollow.

Even now, the memory made his chest tighten painfully. He’d walked away then, convinced that cutting ties with Naruto would make him stronger. That he didn’t need anyone. That he could do it alone.

But he was wrong.

Naruto was the only one who had ever truly seen him, who had never given up on him. Who had fought for him, bled for him, cried for him.

Who had promised to bring him back—no matter what.

Sasuke’s fingers trembled as he reached out, his hand hovering just above Naruto’s face. His skin was cold, his breathing shallow.

The realization hit him like a kunai to the gut. He was losing him.

No. He couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not like this.

The fear twisted inside him, raw and ugly, leaving him shaking. Because Naruto was his light. His hope. The one thing that kept him from falling into the darkness.

If he lost him…

Then what was left?

His vision blurred again, and this time, he couldn’t hold it back. A tear slipped down his cheek, hot and stinging, and he quickly wiped it away, anger flaring in his chest.

Weak. He couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now. Not when Naruto needed him.

He tightened his jaw, forcing himself to stay upright, to keep his eyes on Naruto’s face. If he looked away, if he even blinked, he was terrified that Naruto would vanish.

And he couldn’t… he couldn’t live in a world without him.

His chest ached, his heart pounding wildly, painfully, as he watched the rise and fall of Naruto’s chest. Each breath was labored, shallow, as if it took every ounce of his strength just to keep going.

Sasuke’s hand clenched into a fist, his nails digging into his palm so hard he felt blood trickle between his fingers. But he welcomed the pain. It kept him grounded, kept him here, with Naruto.

He had to stay. He had to keep watching. Because if he didn’t…

If Naruto slipped away, and he wasn’t there to see it…

He would never forgive himself.

His throat tightened, another tear slipping free before he could stop it. His voice was a whisper, broken and raw.

“Don’t… don’t you dare leave me.”

The words were barely audible, cracking under the weight of his emotions. But he meant them. With everything he had. He didn’t care what it took. Didn’t care how many rules he had to break, how many enemies he had to face.

He would fight the gods themselves if it meant keeping Naruto here.

He wouldn’t lose him.

He couldn’t.

Because without Naruto…

Without that blinding, stupidly stubborn light…

All that was left was darkness.

And Sasuke had had enough of that to last a lifetime.

“Sasuke!” Sakura was at his side again, her eyes wide and pleading. “You’re hurt. You need to—”

“I don’t care,” he snapped, jerking his arm out of her reach. Pain shot through him, sharp and burning, but he welcomed it. It kept him grounded, kept him here, with Naruto. “I’m not leaving him.”

“You’re no good to him like this!” she argued, voice cracking. “If you collapse—” Her words cut off when Naruto suddenly gasped loudly.

Sasuke was at his side in an instant. His eyes snapped open, wild and unfocused, pupils blown wide.  

For a split second, relief washed over Sasuke like cool rain.  

Then Naruto screamed.

A raw, guttural sound ripped from his throat, his back arching violently off the bed. The golden chakra surged again, filling the room with blinding light.

Sasuke’s heart clenched painfully. It was a sound he’d never heard before—a sound that shattered something deep inside him. Naruto’s pain was raw, unfiltered, tearing through the room like a storm. And Sasuke could do nothing.

Nothing.

He’d sworn to protect him. Sworn to never let him suffer again. Yet here he was, watching Naruto break, powerless to stop it.

Tsunade swore. “Shit!”  

Sakura flinched. “What’s happening to him—?”  

But Sasuke wasn’t listening.  

Because Naruto wasn’t looking at them.  

His gaze was distant, glassy. His lips moved, forming words that made no sense. 

And then—  

His body went still. 

The chakra around him flickered—then vanished completely.  

Sasuke’s heart stopped. “Naruto?” His own voice sounded foreign, shaking. “Oi, Naruto!”  

No response.  

Tsunade moved fast, her hands pressing against Naruto’s chest. “He’s still alive,” she muttered. “But his chakra—”  

Her sentence cut off. Because Naruto’s fingers twitched. 

And then—  

A different voice filled the room.  

“Finally. That took longer than I thought.” The voice was deep. Rough. Ancient.

It wasn’t Naruto’s.  

A cold chill ran down Sasuke’s spine. His breath hitched, body going rigid. No. This wasn’t right. That voice… it didn’t belong to him. It didn’t belong to Naruto. His eyes fixed on Naruto’s face, searching desperately for any sign of him—for that familiar, stubborn glimmer. But all he saw were those eyes, burning red, empty and cold.

This wasn’t Naruto.

The air turned heavy, pressing down on them like a physical weight. The lights overhead flickered.  

And then, Naruto opened his eyes again. His irises burned a deep, unnatural red.  

Tsunade went rigid. “Kurama.”  

The fox’s grin stretched across Naruto’s face. “Tsunade.”  

Sasuke’s breath caught in his throat. The raw power behind his presence was suffocating, pressing against Sasuke’s senses like a tidal wave.  

Kurama shifted, rolling Naruto’s shoulders as if testing them. “I don’t have much time,” he muttered. Then his gaze—Naruto’s gaze, but not—landed on Sasuke.  

Sasuke didn’t flinch. “What the hell is happening to him?”  

Kurama snorted. “You really don’t waste time, huh?” His tone was amused, but there was something else underneath.  

Something grim.

Tsunade stepped forward. “Tell me what’s going on. Now.”  

Kurama sighed. “It’s simple. That fight at the valley? The damage wasn’t just to his body.”  

Sasuke’s stomach twisted.  

Kurama continued. “When you two nearly killed each other, it put too much strain on the seal. It held up—for a while. But once you got back here, once his body finally relaxed—”  His expression darkened. “It started unraveling.”  

Sasuke’s pulse pounded in his ears.  

Tsunade’s hands clenched into fists. “Can it be fixed?”  

Kurama looked at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. “Tell me, Hokage,” he drawled. “Have you ever tried stitching together paper after it’s been set on fire?”  

Silence.  

Sasuke took a step forward. “Are you saying it’s impossible?”  

“No,” Kurama said, tilting Naruto’s head slightly. “But let’s just say… you’re running out of time.”  

Sakura let out a sharp breath. “What happens if we don’t fix it?”  

Kurama finally looked away. His gaze drifted toward the window, as if watching something none of them could see. “If the seal fully collapses,” he said slowly, “Naruto dies.”  

A cold weight settled in Sasuke’s chest.  

Kurama wasn’t done.  

“And if it doesn’t collapse completely?” Sakura asked, her voice small.  

Kurama chuckled. “Then I die.”  

The words hit like a punch to the gut.  

Tsunade’s face hardened. “That’s not an option.”  

“Oh?” Kurama raised a brow. “Because if I die, Naruto dies too.”  

Sasuke froze. His mind struggled to process the words. “What do you mean?”  

Kurama turned to him. His expression was unreadable. “You don’t get it yet, do you?”  

Sasuke’s throat tightened.  

Kurama exhaled slowly. When he spoke again, it was soft. “Naruto’s body can’t function without me anymore.”  

A heartbeat passed.  

Then another.  

Then—  

Sasuke lunged forward, his own injuries forgotten, grabbing the front of Naruto’s hospital gown. “Fix it.” His voice was sharp, desperate. “You’re a damn tailed beast—fix it!”  

Kurama only looked at him.  

And smiled.  

“I told you,” he murmured. “You’re running out of time.”  

Sasuke’s grip tightened.

But Naruto’s body suddenly went limp again.  

Kurama’s chakra vanished.  

Naruto’s eyes fluttered closed. His breathing slowed.  

Too slow.  

Too weak.  

And for the first time since the battle, Sasuke realized the truth.  

It wasn’t a matter of whether Naruto could recover.  

It was a matter of how long he had left.

Chapter Text

Sasuke didn’t leave.  

He couldn’t leave.  

Even though Naruto had stopped glowing. Even though his breathing had evened out, his face finally peaceful. Even though Tsunade had declared he was stable for now—Sasuke didn’t move from his spot by the hospital bed.  

Sasuke clenched his fists, staring at Naruto’s sleeping face. His chest felt heavy, each breath a struggle as if the air itself was rebelling against him.

Naruto looked so… fragile. Vulnerable in a way that felt wrong, like something was fundamentally broken in the universe.

The idiot was supposed to be invincible. Loud, stubborn, infuriatingly bright. A force of nature that no one could touch, no matter how hard they tried.

But now…

Now his face was pale, lips tinged with a faint blue, his body unmoving except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. A hollow shell of the boy who had once charged at him with eyes blazing with determination.

Sasuke’s fingers twitched, aching to reach out, to touch, to prove that Naruto was still there. That he hadn’t already slipped away. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His hands felt stained, tainted.

Instead, he forced himself to stay still, nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. Pain was good. It kept him grounded, kept him from drowning in the suffocating fear clawing at his insides.

The silence was unbearable.

His mind spun, replaying Kurama’s words over and over until they were branded into his skull.

"Naruto’s body can’t function without me anymore."

"You’re running out of time."

Time.

How much time did they have? Days? Hours? Minutes?

The thought twisted in his gut like a knife.

Sasuke’s eyes burned, and he forced himself to look away, his gaze settling on the moonlit window. The night was quiet, mocking him with its indifference.

Naruto was dying. And the world kept turning.

His hands trembled, and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay standing. He wouldn’t break. He couldn’t. Not when Naruto needed him.

But what could he do?

He felt so helpless. Trapped. As if the walls were closing in, the air growing thinner.

His mind raced, searching desperately for a solution. There had to be a way to fix this. There was always a way—there had to be.

But no matter how hard he tried to piece it together, the answer remained just out of reach. Slipping through his fingers like sand. He hated it. The uncertainty. The fear. The knowledge that he might lose the one person he couldn’t afford to lose.

The thought alone was suffocating.

Because Naruto wasn’t just his friend, his rival, his teammate. He was… everything. His light. His anchor. His reason to keep moving forward, even when everything else was falling apart. Losing him wasn’t an option.

Sasuke swallowed, his throat tight, burning. His eyes drifted back to Naruto, to the peaceful expression on his face. As if he was merely sleeping, blissfully unaware of the battle raging just beneath the surface.

How much did Naruto know?

Did he realize how close he was to the edge? Did he know that his body was breaking down, that his time was running out?

Would he still be smiling if he did? Would he still be so determined to keep that stupid promise?

A bitter laugh bubbled up in Sasuke’s chest, sharp and cold. Of course, he would. This was Naruto. The idiot who never gave up, no matter how impossible the odds.

And that’s what made it hurt even more.

Because Naruto would fight, he would struggle and claw his way back, no matter how much pain he was in. He would keep his promise, even if it killed him. Sasuke’s eyes stung, and he looked away, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t.

He would find a way to fix this. To save him. Even if it meant tearing apart the world to do it.

A soft sound broke the silence, and Sasuke’s eyes snapped back to the bed.

Naruto’s fingers twitched, his brows furrowing, his lips parting as if to speak.

Sasuke’s heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. “Naruto?”

“...S-sasuke..”

He was by his side in an instant. “I’m here. Are you hurt? Should I call Sakura?”

He watched as Naruto slowly raised his hand and placed it on top of his, his thumb caressing his skin. "Stop looking like that." Naruto’s voice was hoarse—rough from sleep. His eyes were half-open, bleary but awake, watching him with a tired sort of exasperation.  

"You look like you just swallowed a lemon or something," Naruto muttered. His voice was too soft, the usual warmth drained. He shifted slightly, his fingers twitching against his, but didn’t have the energy to do much else.  

Sasuke stared at him, jaw tightening. "You almost died."  

Naruto blinked, then gave a weak laugh. "Yeah? And?"  

"And?" Something inside Sasuke snapped. "And you think that’s normal?" he said, voice sharp.  

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "For me? Yeah, pretty much."  

Sasuke wanted to hit something. That was the problem. It was normal. Naruto had been dying for years, throwing himself into battle, getting torn apart over and over, and still smiling like it was nothing.  

Like it was fine.  

Like he was fine.  

Sasuke knew better.  

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, looking away.  

Naruto chuckled, but it was weak. "You just figuring that out?"  

The room was quiet for a long time. The sounds of the machines beeped steadily beside them. Finally, Naruto shifted again, trying to sit up.

Sasuke moved on instinct, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him back down.

"Don't," Sasuke said. "Just—stay still."

Naruto huffed but didn’t argue.

"You're bossy," he muttered, trying for casual.

Sasuke didn’t answer. He was too busy staring—at the IV in Naruto’s arm, the bandages wrapped tight across his chest. Too busy trying to breathe through the pressure building in his ribs.

For a moment, they just sat there.

Then Naruto sighed. "Look, I know it sucks, but…" His voice was quieter now. "I'm not dead yet."

"Yet."

Sasuke hated how easily he said it. Like it was just a fact. Like he’d already accepted it.

Naruto must have seen something in his expression, because he suddenly grinned, weak but still Naruto. Still infuriatingly himself.

"Besides," he said, "if I died, who else is gonna keep an eye on you, huh?"

Sasuke scoffed under his breath, but it wasn’t real. He didn’t feel like arguing. Didn’t have the energy to fight.

"I don’t need a babysitter," he said instead.

Naruto closed one eye in a lazy wink. "Sure you don’t."

The silence returned, but it felt different this time—heavier, not quite settled.

Sasuke shifted in his seat. He opened his mouth, closed it again. Then, finally, he asked the one question he’d been too much of a coward to ask before.

"…Why?"

Naruto blinked. "Why what?"

"Why do you keep trying so hard for me?"

The grin faded. Naruto looked at him for a long time. His blue eyes—dull now, too tired—studied Sasuke’s face, like he was searching for something beneath the question. Some hidden meaning Sasuke was too scared to put into words.

"You’re seriously asking me that now?"

Sasuke said nothing. His gaze dropped.

Naruto exhaled, quiet. Then he smiled again. Softer this time.

"Because you’re my friend."

Sasuke sucked in a breath.

That answer should have been obvious. Naruto had said it a thousand times before, screamed it across battlefields, chased him down with it. But now… now it felt different.

Now there was no fight left. No chase. Just a boy lying in a hospital bed, trying to smile through pain.

He had spent so long pushing Naruto away, convinced it didn’t matter. That Naruto was just some annoying idiot who didn’t know when to give up. That whatever he felt, whatever bonds he thought they had, could be cut away.

But they hadn’t.

Even when Sasuke left, even when he tried to kill him, Naruto still called him a friend.

And Sasuke had nearly destroyed that.

He couldn’t look at him.

Sasuke turned his head, staring at the floor. "You're an idiot," he muttered again.

Naruto grinned, closing his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You keep saying that."

He sounded tired now. Not annoyed. Not smug. Just… tired.

Silence stretched between them.

Naruto’s breathing was slow, steady.

For a second, Sasuke thought he had fallen back asleep.

Then—

"I'm scared."

Sasuke froze.

The words were soft. Barely there. Like a secret Naruto hadn’t meant to let slip.

Sasuke turned his head sharply. Naruto was still facing away, eyes closed, body tense. Like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Like it had slipped past his defenses before he could stop it.

Sasuke’s heart clenched.

Naruto—fearless Naruto—had never once admitted he was afraid. Not even when he was covered in blood, when he was being beaten down, when he had every reason to give up.

But now…

Now he was lying in a hospital bed, too weak to move, the seal on his stomach slowly killing him.

And he was scared.

“…How long?” Sasuke asked, before he could stop himself.

Naruto didn’t open his eyes. “A while.”

"You didn’t tell anyone."

"No point." Naruto’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "I thought I could fix it. Thought I could… hold out. Just a little longer."

"And you were gonna let yourself die trying?"

Naruto’s lips quirked. "I’ve always been stubborn. You of all people should know that."

Sasuke’s hands shook.

He didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know how to fix this.

Didn’t know how to fix him.

So he did the only thing he could do.

He reached out, gripping Naruto’s wrist tightly.

Naruto's fingers twitched in surprise. He opened his eyes again, blinking at him.

Sasuke didn't let go.

"I'm not gonna let you die." His voice was steady. Firm. A promise.

Naruto stared at him.

There was something in his eyes—something Sasuke hadn’t seen in a long time. Hope.

Then—slowly—he smiled.

“Okay,” Naruto whispered. “Okay.”

And for the first time since the battle, Sasuke felt like he meant it.

Tsunade leaned against the wall, eyes closed.  

She had heard everything.  

Sakura stood beside her, arms wrapped around herself. Her fingers dug into her sleeves, holding back the emotions threatening to spill over. "...They're both idiots," she muttered.  

Tsunade huffed out a laugh. "Yeah."  

Sakura bit her lip, then hesitated. "Shishou… Is there really nothing we can do?"  

Tsunade’s expression darkened. "There might be something."  

Sakura looked up sharply. "Then—"  

"But it won’t be easy," Tsunade said. "And it might not work."  

Sakura swallowed.  

Tsunade sighed, rubbing her temples. "We’ll need time," she muttered. "And that’s something Naruto doesn’t have much of."  

Her gaze flickered toward the hospital room. Inside, Naruto and Sasuke were still talking. Naruto was smiling—small, tired, but real.  

Tsunade exhaled slowly, the weight of the situation pressing down on her like a storm about to break.  

They had to move fast.  

Because if they didn’t, Naruto wouldn’t just be slipping away.  

He’d be lost...forever. 

Chapter Text

Sasuke stayed.

Through the night, through the morning, through the endless cycle of quiet beeping and shallow breaths. He couldn't bring himself to walk away—not when every time he closed his eyes, he saw Naruto lying there under the dim hospital lights, smiling like he always did, like everything was fine. Like his body wasn’t betraying him.

He sat by the window, arms crossed, watching.

Naruto had always been good at pretending he was fine. It was a skill, one honed through years of being ignored, beaten down, and left behind. And now, even as his body turned against him, that damn mask still held.

But Sasuke wasn’t a fool.

He saw the way Naruto’s fingers trembled when he reached for his cup of water. The way he turned his head before coughing, as if he could somehow hide it. The way his usually tanned skin was too pale, a thin sheen of sweat sticking to his forehead.

Sasuke clenched his fists.

"I’m scared."

That whisper from the night before was still looping in his head, over and over.

Naruto had looked so damn small in that bed, body limp, voice too quiet.

And Sasuke—Sasuke had just sat there, gripping his wrist like an idiot, like that alone could keep him here.

It wasn’t enough.

Nothing about this was enough.

Sasuke had spent years chasing strength, obsessed with the idea that power meant control. That if he just became strong enough, no one could take anything from him ever again.

And yet—

Here he was.

Powerless.

Watching Naruto waste away right in front of him.

A sharp knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Sakura stood at the entrance, a clipboard in her hands. "Check-up time," she announced.

Naruto groaned. "Ugh, again? You guys check me more than a paranoid landlord checks a rental unit."

"Well, considering your body is literally shutting down, forgive us for being thorough," she shot back dryly.

Sasuke stood, moving to the side as she approached. Naruto huffed but didn’t argue, holding out his arm.

Sakura took his pulse first. Then she pulled back the thin sheet covering him and pressed her hand lightly against his stomach.

Naruto flinched.

It was barely noticeable—just a tiny twitch in his jaw, a flicker in his expression. But Sasuke saw it.

So did Sakura. Her fingers lingered there a moment longer, pressing a little more firmly.

Naruto didn’t move. Didn’t react.

Which—was worse.

Sasuke’s stomach twisted.

Sakura’s hand retreated.

"...How bad?" Naruto asked, keeping his voice light. Too light.

Sakura didn’t answer immediately. She didn’t meet his eyes.

That was all the answer Naruto needed.

"...Right," he muttered, forcing a laugh. "So… not great then."

Sakura pursed her lips. "Your chakra network is still deteriorating," she admitted. "Slower than before, but…"

Naruto nodded. "Still happening."

Silence.

Naruto sighed, tipping his head back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers he was too tired to search for. "Tsunade-baachan’s working on a fix, right?" His voice was steady, but there was a quiet strain beneath it, a fragile hope he refused to acknowledge.

Sakura hesitated, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her skirt. She hated the way his question made her stomach twist, the way she had to pause before answering.

"Yeah," she said, forcing a small smile. "She’s working on it." The words felt thin, almost weightless, but she willed them to be enough.

Sasuke caught it immediately.

The way she said it.

Not We have a solution.

Not We’re close.

Just “She’s working on it.”

Naruto heard it too. His face didn’t change. Didn’t flinch, didn’t shift. But his fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles turning white. The only sign that he had, in fact, heard every word.

Sasuke couldn’t stand it.

Something inside him twisted, sharp and unbearable. Before he even thought about it, the words were out of his mouth.

"You’re not going to die."

Naruto blinked, then gave him an amused look. "Well, good to know you’ve got it all figured out, teme."

Sasuke’s jaw tightened. His hands clenched at his sides. "I mean it."

Naruto held his gaze for a long moment before exhaling.

He looked… tired.

"Yeah," he murmured, voice soft, almost resigned. "I know."

But it didn’t sound like he believed it.

And that—that pissed Sasuke off.

Because Naruto should believe it. Because Naruto wasn’t allowed to just accept this. Because Sasuke refused to sit here and watch the one person who had ever—

"Because you’re my friend."

The breath caught in Sasuke’s throat.

Naruto—his rival, his first bond, his stupid, too-bright idiot of a best friend— had never once let go of him. Even after everything.

So how the hell was Sasuke supposed to let go of him now?

"I’m not gonna let you die."

His own words echoed back at him.

A promise.

Sasuke had spent years throwing away his bonds, severing ties, convincing himself that he didn’t need anyone. That no one was worth keeping.

But Naruto has always been the exception.

And Sasuke refused to fail him again.

He turned to Sakura. "Tsunade," he said sharply. "Where is she?"

Sakura blinked. "She’s in her office, but—"

Before she could finish, Sasuke was already moving.

"Sasuke?" Naruto called after him, confused.

But Sasuke didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around. Because there was one thing he did know—

He wasn’t losing Naruto.

And if there was a way to stop it—anything—then he was going to find it.

Tsunade barely looked up when Sasuke stormed in.

"I was wondering when you’d come," she muttered, flipping a page in her medical journal.

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed. "You knew?"

"That you’d come demanding answers?" She snorted. "Please. I had a bet with Shizune that you wouldn’t last two days before barging in here."

Sasuke clenched his fists. "Then tell me. What’s being done?"

Tsunade sighed, finally setting the book down. "Right now? Research," she said bluntly. "The seal is degrading, which means Naruto is essentially running on borrowed time. If we can reinforce it—"

"Can you?" Sasuke interrupted.

Tsunade hesitated.

Sasuke’s stomach dropped. "You don’t know," he accused.

Tsunade’s face was unreadable. "We’re running out of options," she admitted. "There are theories, but nothing solid. If Minato were here—"

"But he’s not."

Tsunade exhaled, rubbing her temple.

Sasuke took a step forward. "If there’s a solution," he said, voice dangerously low, "I want to know."

Tsunade studied him, her expression unreadable. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the quiet rustling of parchment as she exhaled through her nose. Then, slowly, she reached into her desk, fingers brushing against something old, something worn by time and use.

She pulled out a scroll, its edges frayed, its once-pristine paper stained with age.

Sasuke frowned, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "What is that?"

Tsunade set it down between them with deliberate care. "A last resort," she said. "A possible way to stabilize Naruto’s seal. But it comes with a cost."

Sasuke’s fingers twitched at his sides. "What kind of cost?"

Tsunade met his gaze, her eyes steady, unyielding.

"A life."

The room seemed to contract around them, the weight of those two syllables pressing down like a vice. Sasuke stilled.

Tsunade continued, her voice quieter now, but no less firm. "This technique could theoretically repair the seal," she said. "But it demands a price. Someone would have to surrender their chakra flow entirely."

Her expression darkened. "It would essentially mean becoming a—"

"I’ll do it."

The words left Sasuke’s mouth before he could think. Before he could stop himself. But even as they hung in the air, final and irreversible, he felt no regret.

Tsunade’s eyes widened slightly. "Sasuke—"

"I said I’ll do it." His voice was firm, unshakable.

Tsunade watched him, searching for hesitation, for anything that might make her take back the scroll and tell him no.

But she found nothing. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "You’re both insane," she muttered.

But she didn’t refuse him.

And Sasuke...

Sasuke had already made up his mind.

Because if saving Naruto meant giving up his own power—his own life—

Then so be it.

Chapter Text

Sasuke didn’t hesitate.

Not when Tsunade laid the scroll between them, its worn edges curling slightly with age. Not when she carefully unraveled it, revealing faded ink and symbols that pulsed with something old and dangerous.

Not even when she looked at him—really looked at him—with something dangerously close to concern in her sharp, assessing eyes.

"You understand what this means, right?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual but no less firm. "This isn’t some jutsu you can undo. If you go through with it, you won’t just be losing chakra—you’ll be burning through every last drop of it. Your reserves will collapse. Your life force will be drained to the brink."

Her gaze was unyielding. "Best case? You survive, but your ability to use chakra will be gone—permanently. Worst case?" She exhaled slowly. "Your body shuts down before the process even finishes."

Sasuke’s fingers hovered just above the scroll.

Permanent chakra loss.

No more Sharingan. No more jutsu. No more power.

It wasn’t just about losing a part of himself—it was about stripping away everything that had defined him, everything he had built himself upon. His bloodline, his strength, his ability to protect.

He would never fight the way he had before.

Never stand at the same level as Naruto again.

That thought should have given him pause. Should have made his stomach twist, made his fingers curl away from the brittle parchment.

But all he could see was Naruto, pale and unmoving in that hospital bed.

All he could hear was the way Naruto’s voice had cracked, quiet and raw, when he admitted, "I’m scared."

Sasuke clenched his jaw. "I understand," he said, his voice steady.

Tsunade exhaled through her nose, slow and measured, her fingers drumming restlessly against the desk. "It doesn’t have to be you," she said after a beat, her gaze searching. "There are other—"

"There aren’t." Sasuke cut her off, sharper than he intended, but he didn’t take it back. "Don’t lie to me. If there was another way, you wouldn’t have waited this long."

Tsunade didn’t argue. She didn’t even flinch.

And that silence—that lack of denial—was all the confirmation Sasuke needed.

His grip on the scroll tightened. "I’m doing it."

Tsunade studied him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across her face. Then, with a sigh, she leaned back in her chair. "...I’ll need time to make the proper preparations," she said finally. "We’ll perform the ritual in three days."

Sasuke gave a single, decisive nod.

Then he turned on his heel and walked out.

There was nothing else to discuss.

Naruto was awake when Sasuke returned.

He sat with his back to the door, his shoulders slightly hunched, the thin hospital blanket draped over him like a second skin. He looked smaller somehow, as though the weight pressing down on him had finally started to show. The moonlight spilled in through the window, painting him in shades of silver and shadow. It caught on the angles of his face, deepening the bruises beneath his eyes and casting the sharp lines of his jaw in stark relief. He didn’t move, didn’t speak right away. Just sat there in the quiet, as if he hadn’t heard Sasuke come in at all.

But Naruto always noticed.

"Where’d you go?" he asked after a moment, voice quiet. Casual, almost. But Sasuke knew better—knew that carefully measured tone, the way Naruto used it like armor when things were slipping through the cracks. It was the kind of voice he used when he was pretending not to worry.

Sasuke paused just inside the door. The stillness of the room felt fragile, like any sudden movement might shatter it. "Nowhere important," he said finally.

Naruto let out a short breath that might’ve been a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Liar," he said, without turning around.

Sasuke didn’t deny it. What was the point? Naruto could always tell.

After a moment, Naruto twisted just enough to glance over his shoulder. His expression was tired, and the smirk tugging at his lips looked more like muscle memory than anything real. But it was there. A ghost of the old Naruto, still trying.

"You’ve got that face," he said, voice a little more alive now, like the effort of teasing him sparked something warm under the exhaustion.

Sasuke frowned. "What face?"

Naruto’s smirk grew a fraction. "The one that says you just did something stupid."

Sasuke rolled his eyes and moved across the room, letting the door click shut behind him. "Then you must see that face every time you look in a mirror."

The comeback was automatic, but it had the intended effect. Naruto actually laughed—a real, unguarded sound that briefly lit up the gloom like sunlight cracking through storm clouds. It didn’t last long, but Sasuke took it anyway. Clung to it like a lifeline.

He settled into the chair beside the bed, careful not to jostle the tray of untouched food or the tangle of IV lines. The chair creaked softly beneath him, and for a second, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t hostile—it was something else. Weighted. Waiting.

Then Naruto broke it.

"Sasuke," he said, quieter now, and Sasuke looked up immediately. The playful edge had vanished from his voice.

Naruto was watching him, all trace of humor gone from his face. His eyes—dull from exhaustion but still sharp with that same unwavering clarity—studied him like he already knew what was coming.

"You’re planning something," Naruto said, voice steady despite the weakness in it.

Sasuke didn’t answer right away. He didn’t flinch, but his body tensed like a wire pulled taut. He stared at the floor, at the space between his feet, wishing the question hadn’t come. Wishing Naruto hadn’t noticed. But of course he had.

"Tell me," Naruto said, not harshly—just firmly, like he wasn’t going to let it go.

Sasuke took a slow breath. "I’m fixing this," he said at last, the words falling heavy and hard into the space between them.

Naruto drew in a sharp breath, barely audible, but it made Sasuke’s shoulders tighten further. He didn’t want to see Naruto’s face right now. Didn’t want to see the disappointment, the worry, the understanding.

"Sasuke…" Naruto began, and there was something like a warning in his voice.

"Don’t," Sasuke said quickly, cutting him off before the argument could begin. His voice wasn’t sharp—just tired. "Don’t ask questions. Don’t try to stop me. Just—" He exhaled through his nose, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he swallowed the rest. Just let me do this. Just let me save you, for once.

Naruto was silent for a beat. Then he asked, softly, "How bad?"

Sasuke clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to answer that, either. But he knew Naruto wouldn’t drop it, not when he was like this—sharp and relentless, even on the edge of collapse.

"Not as bad as dying," Sasuke muttered, the words bitter in his mouth.

Naruto looked at him for a long moment. Then—without fanfare, without any dramatic sigh or scolding—he smiled. It wasn’t his usual grin. Just a small, tired curve of his lips that said more than any words could.

"You’re an idiot," Naruto murmured.

Sasuke snorted softly, though there wasn’t much amusement in it. "And you’re annoying," he replied. "So we’re even."

Naruto didn’t argue. Instead, slowly—carefully, as though every movement cost him something—he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Sasuke’s wrist.

His hand was cold. Alarmingly cold.

Sasuke’s heart stuttered in his chest, a flicker of panic rising unbidden, but he didn’t move. He let Naruto hold on, his own fingers instinctively turning inward, ready to catch him if he started to slip again.

"...You always do this," Naruto said, his voice low and rough.

Sasuke frowned. "Do what?"

"Act like it’s all your responsibility," Naruto murmured. "Like it’s your job to carry the world. Like if something goes wrong, it’s your fault—like you’re the only one who can fix it."

Sasuke looked away, jaw tightening. It wasn’t untrue. He’d always carried that burden. He hadn’t known how to live any other way.

"But you don’t have to do it alone," Naruto said, squeezing his wrist just a little. His eyes locked on Sasuke’s face, unwavering. "Not anymore."

Sasuke stared at him. He didn’t know what to say. The words tangled in his throat like thorns, too heavy to voice. The truth was, he didn’t believe he deserved that kind of help. Didn’t believe he’d earned the right to lean on someone else.

And yet—Naruto was still here. Still fighting. Still reaching for him, even now.

Even when he shouldn’t.

Sasuke’s hand twitched. Then, wordlessly, he turned it over and wrapped his fingers around Naruto’s.

His grip was firm. Solid. Grounding.

Naruto blinked at him, a flicker of surprise in his expression—but he didn’t let go. His hand stayed curled around Sasuke’s, a silent anchor in the cold, sterile quiet of the hospital room.

They didn’t say anything else.

They didn’t need to.

Tsunade leaned against the window, a heavy sigh escaping her lips as she watched the village beneath her. The late afternoon sun bathed Konoha in a warm, golden light, but it didn’t reach the cold knot of worry sitting in her chest.

Her gaze drifted toward the hospital’s east wing—the room where Naruto was being kept. And where, not long ago, Sasuke had stormed out, his face set in that stubborn, closed-off way that reminded her too much of his older brother.

Stupid brat.

She pressed her fingers to her temples, willing the headache building there to ease. It didn’t.

How could it, with everything that was happening? With the life of one of the few people she actually cared about slipping through her fingers?

Naruto wasn’t just a patient. He was family.

And right now, he was dying.

Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. That boy had been pretending he was fine since the day he first set foot in this village. Always smiling, always pushing forward, always carrying more than anyone had a right to

But Tsunade knew better.

She’d seen the dark circles under his eyes. The way his chakra flickered unpredictably, like a candle fighting against the wind. She’d seen the way he winced when he thought no one was looking, how his hands trembled just enough for her trained eyes to catch it.

And she’d seen Sasuke, sitting by his bed like a silent, brooding sentinel.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going through his head.

Sasuke was the same as Naruto in some ways. Stubborn. Reckless. And completely incapable of watching someone he cared about suffer without trying to fix it—even if it meant breaking himself in the process.

Which was exactly why Tsunade had been hesitant to tell him about the ritual in the first place.

She’d known, the moment she laid out the details, that Sasuke would take the burden on without hesitation. That he’d offer up his own chakra—his own future—for Naruto’s sake, because guilt and loyalty and love (not that he’d ever admit that last one) wouldn’t let him do anything else.

And now, here they were.

Tsunade closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She wasn’t sure if she was making the right call. She wasn’t sure if there even was a right call to make.

All she knew was that Naruto’s seal was deteriorating faster than they’d anticipated, and if they didn’t do something soon, he’d be dead within the week.

If it continues, Naruto will die.

Her own words echoed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine.

She opened her eyes again and pushed away from the window. There was no point in second-guessing herself now.

She had a plan.

It wasn’t a perfect plan. It wasn’t even a good plan. But it was the only one they had.

The ritual—an ancient, risky technique designed to transfer chakra from one person to another—was their best shot at stabilizing Naruto’s seal. It wouldn’t fix it completely, but it would buy them time.

And time was something Naruto desperately needed right now.

The price, though…

Tsunade grimaced. The price was steep.

Whoever performed the transfer would lose a significant portion of their own chakra. In some cases, the damage could be temporary. But in this case—given the scale of what they were dealing with—it was likely to be permanent.

Which meant Sasuke, if he went through with it, would lose his ability to use chakra entirely. No more jutsu. No more Sharingan. No more fighting on the front lines.

He’d be giving up a part of himself...a part that defined him.

And the worst part was, he knew it.

He knew exactly what he was sacrificing, and he didn’t care.

Tsunade ran a hand through her hair, feeling the familiar sting of frustration and helplessness.

Why do these kids always have to make things so damn hard?

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, her voice sharper than she intended.  

Shizune stepped inside, her expression anxious, hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Tsunade-sama, I’ve double-checked everything. The preparations for the ritual are still on track, but it’ll be two days before we’re ready.”  

Tsunade nodded, already aware of the timeline, though it didn’t make the situation any easier. “Two days,” she repeated quietly, more to herself than to Shizune. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “We just have to keep him stable until then.”  

Shizune hesitated, her brow creased with concern. “Naruto’s chakra is fluctuating more than before… Are you sure he can hold out that long?”  

Tsunade clenched her jaw. “He has to.”  

Shizune shifted on her feet, hesitant. “And Sasuke-kun? He hasn’t left Naruto’s side since yesterday.”  

Tsunade sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know. I told him what this ritual will cost, and he didn’t even blink. Typical Uchiha stubbornness.”  

Shizune frowned. “Do you think he fully understands what he’s sacrificing?”  

“Oh, he understands,” Tsunade said bitterly, her jaw tightening. “He’s determined to do this, no matter what it costs him. And knowing Naruto, he’ll figure it out soon enough—and when he does…” She trailed off, shaking her head.  

Shizune’s expression softened. “They’re both so stubborn.”  

“Stubborn and reckless,” Tsunade agreed with a sigh. “And right now, that’s the only reason either of them is still alive.”

Shizune nodded, her eyes troubled.

Tsunade sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. She was so damn tired. Tired of making impossible choices, tired of watching people she cared about suffer, tired of carrying the weight of this village on her shoulders.

But she couldn’t afford to break down now. Not when Naruto’s life was hanging by a thread.

“We’ll get through this,” she said, more to herself than to Shizune. “We have to.”

Shizune didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway.

And as she left the office, Tsunade turned back to the window, her gaze once again drifting toward the hospital’s east wing.

She didn’t know what the future held. She didn’t know if they were making the right choices or walking straight into disaster.

But one thing she did know was this:

Naruto and Sasuke were two of the most stubborn, reckless, and infuriating people she’d ever met.

And if anyone could survive this—if anyone could defy the odds and come out the other side—it was them.

Because they weren’t just two boys with too much history and too much pain.

They were Naruto and Sasuke.

And that had to count for something.