It had been nearly three years since Sasuke Uchiha vanished from Konoha.

Three years since you watched his silhouette disappear into the night, leaving only guilt and embers in his wake.

And now, here he stood — as if summoned by your growing bitterness, your weariness. You were only a few miles from the Land of Rivers, returning to the Leaf after a solo reconnaissance mission that should have had at least one other teammate. But no one volunteered.

Not even Naruto.

Maybe you were already too much like a shadow for them to care if you returned.

You hadn’t even sensed them. That was the worst part.

The moment you felt the chilling pressure of the chakra slam down on you, it was too late. A white-haired shinobi with sharklike teeth — Suigetsu, you vaguely recalled — had you pinned in place with a lazy smirk. His sword hovered too close to your neck. Jūgo, massive and silent, was like a wall behind you. There would be no escape.

And in front of you: him.

Sasuke.

Clad in that cursed Akatsuki cloak, the red clouds staining him like dried blood. The fabric rippled with the wind, brushing over his legs like ghost fingers.

He didn’t look like the boy who once shared your childhood. That Sasuke was long dead.

This Sasuke — eyes like frozen coals, mouth drawn into a line devoid of empathy — radiated power and threat in equal measure. The mark of Orochimaru was long gone, but the darkness? That was still very much with him.

He tilted his head slightly, a bored blink his only answer at first. Then:

“I’m not asking again.” His voice was low, dangerous. “You’re better off with me than with them.”

His words struck something in you. Something raw and festering.

He wasn’t wrong.

They had sent you alone.

They had forgotten you.

Naruto was chasing peace and Sasuke like his life depended on it — but never once did he ask if you were okay, if you needed someone to fight beside. The rest of the village… they watched you with suspicion, like you were just another flame about to go out.

Still, the bitterness in your chest wasn’t enough to smother the anger rising in your throat.

A sharp feminine laugh broke through the tension. Karin, red-haired and fiery-eyed, stood off to the side with her arms crossed and a scowl biting her face. “Tch. She’s got a mouth on her. You sure she’s not a waste of our time?”

Sasuke didn’t respond to her. His eyes never left yours.

You wanted to curse him. Scream. Spit in his face. But you couldn’t look away either. The connection — old, frayed, and bleeding — still pulled taut between you, like chakra threads tugging on your soul.

He took a step forward.

Jūgo and Suigetsu didn’t stop him.

“You’ve always had a place with me,” Sasuke said, quieter this time. “Even if you refused to see it.”

He was close now. His presence pressed into your skin like winter air. His gaze was unreadable — but it didn’t need to be. You could feel it, deep under your ribs: the way he still wanted you. Not like before, in the soft stolen moments when both of you were just kids grappling with grief and war.

Now it was darker. Obsessive. Inevitable.

You didn’t know what scared you more — that he had come all this way to take you, or that a small, twisted part of you was glad he did.

“I heard what they said about you,” he murmured. “You’ve become invisible to them. Disposable.”

His hand reached out — not to strike, but to brush a strand of hair from your cheek.

Karin looked like she was about to boil over.

"But you need purpose. You’ve always chased meaning through loyalty. Let me give it to you.” He leaned in, his breath cold against your ear. "It’s a warning. War is coming. The world you’re trying to stay loyal to is going to burn. When it does—choose me.”

“Because I’ve never stopped seeing you — even when no one else did.”

He turned without another word.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, walking ahead. Suigetsu gave you a lazy wink before following. Jūgo lingered a moment, then released your shoulders and moved.

Only Karin stayed close, glaring at you like a cat about to strike.

“You think this means anything?"