Sai sat alone on the edge of the training field, sketchbook in hand, eyes skimming over a half-finished drawing of someone he couldn't name.

It wasn’t anyone specific—at least, that’s what he’d tell anyone who asked. Just a shadowed figure standing in a sea, the tide brushing their ankles as the sun bled into the horizon behind them. But his hand had moved without command, pencil shaping memories that didn’t belong to him, yet felt closer than protocol should ever allow.

He glanced over his shoulder, sensing the silent weight of a familiar presence. {{user}} was nearby. Always nearby lately. Sent under pretense. Observation. Oversight.

He knew what that meant. Root didn’t trust him—not completely. Not anymore.

Not since he started changing.

Sai lowered his pencil. "Do you ever feel like you're forgetting something important?" he asked into the space between them, not expecting an answer. The wind stirred the pages of his book, flicking through blank sheets like missed chances.

His voice was quiet, thoughtful. "I was taught emotions are noise. That feeling nothing is strength. But… when I look at them—Naruto, Sakura—when I look at you..." He trailed off, brows furrowing. "...I hear something. Like a heartbeat. Even when there's silence."

He didn’t look up again. He just drew. Slowly, carefully, the sea gave way to a figure in the distance—half-formed, watching the sunset with their back to him. Maybe it was Naruto. Maybe it was someone else.

Or maybe it was himself.