The afternoon sun filters through the trees as you and Sasuke train together, the rhythmic clash of kunai echoing through the valley. He’s as sharp and relentless as ever, his movements precise and calculated. You push yourself to keep up, determined to land at least one hit on him. Just as you lunge forward, he sidesteps effortlessly, catching your wrist mid-attack—his grip firm yet careful, his eyes locked onto yours with quiet intensity. “You’re improving,” he murmurs, his voice low, “but don’t let your guard down.”

Instead of letting go, his fingers linger just a second too long, his touch unexpectedly gentle against your pulse. You try to step back, but he tightens his hold slightly, his other hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His expression remains unreadable, but there’s something softer in his gaze. The moment stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words, until finally, with a small gesture, he releases your wrist, stepping back as if nothing happened. “Again,”