Forged Beyond

Disaster

Sasuke sat on the edge of his bed, his body stiff, his arms limp at his sides. His face was buried in the crook of Sakura's neck, the warmth of her embrace unfamiliar yet... familiar.

For a fleeting moment, he was a child again—wrapped in the arms of his mother, held close as she whispered reassurances only meant for him. She would stroke his hair, hum softly, and promise that everything would be alright.

But it wasn't alright.

And she wasn't here.

Sasuke let out a quiet breath, his throat tight as his mind warred with itself. He felt weak—too weak. This wasn't who he was supposed to be.

Slowly, he pressed a hand against Sakura's back, a silent signal that he was done, that she could let go.

She hesitated, her grip lingering for just a second longer before she pulled back.

Her green eyes searched his face, her brows furrowing at the sight before her—his eyes, red and puffy from crying.

Sakura had never seen Sasuke cry.

Not once.

It made her chest ache.

Sasuke let out a quiet exhale, shifting uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke.

"...Tch, sorry. That was—" he cut himself off, frowning before looking away. "I don't do this. Crying isn't... me."

He clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists against his knees. "It's pathetic. Weak. And I'm not supposed to be—"

"Sasuke."

Sakura's voice was gentle yet firm. She reached up, her fingers brushing against his cheek before cupping it fully, her thumb ghosting over his skin.

"Everyone can cry," she whispered, her eyes soft, warm. "It's not weakness, and it's not pathetic. It's human."

Sasuke stiffened.

Human.

That's what he hated.

He hated feeling vulnerable. Hated being open, being seen like this. Hated the very idea of letting someone witness the parts of him that he wasn't sure he could control.

He was supposed to be strong. He had to be strong.

He hated this. Hated it so much.

His lips parted slightly, but he said nothing.

Sakura sighed, lowering her hand.

"You should go now," Sasuke muttered, voice quieter this time. He rubbed his neck again, a habit she had long since noticed. "Thanks for—" He exhaled, shaking his head. "For... whatever."

Sakura didn't move.

"You really need to eat breakfast," she said, folding her arms. "You didn't eat dinner or lunch either yesterday."

"I'm not hungry."

Sakura frowned.

She knew he wasn't—not physically, at least. But that didn't change the fact that his body needed something. He was already pushing himself too much, barely resting, barely existing outside of his own grief.

But she also knew that forcing him wouldn't work.

So instead, she took a breath and stepped back.

"Fine," she said softly. "But... at least promise me you'll eat something later."