Konoha Hospital, third floor, the ward at the end of the corridor.
Naruto stood at the door, his hand on the handle. He put it down three times without pushing it open. It was not that he did not dare—it was that he did not know what to say once he opened the door. Kakashi leaned against the corridor wall, Make-Out Paradise covering his face. He was not reading. He was waiting. Waiting for Naruto to decide for himself whether to go in. The corridor lights flickered, not because they were broken, but because the voltage was unstable. Konoha's power system had not fully recovered from the attack. Like the village itself, it looked whole on the outside, but inside it was full of cracks.
The door opened from within.
Sasuke stood in the doorway, his left hand wrapped in bandages. The Curse Mark showed at the edge of the bandages around his neck. It was not red—it was black. Black as though ink had seeped into his skin, crawling up his veins toward his face. He looked at Naruto, not as if he were looking at an enemy, but at something he did not want to face.
"Move."
"No." Naruto blocked the doorway, gripping the frame so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "That Curse Mark on your neck was given to you by Orochimaru. Kakashi-sensei said that thing will erode your will. It will not make you stronger—it will turn you into someone else's vessel."
Sasuke's eyes changed from black to red. His Sharingan, with two tomoe, glowed in the dim corridor. It was not the light of chakra—it was the light of hatred. He stared at Naruto for three seconds, then smiled. He was not smiling at Naruto—he was laughing at himself. Laughing at himself for spending