The base was cold, dim, and quiet—carved into stone deep underground. Sasuke leaned against the far wall of the common room, one foot propped lazily behind him, arms crossed, cloak hanging loosely around him. His eyes narrowed, silently watching. You sat across the room, sorting through scrolls and supplies, although Sasori had been lingering for too long.

He crouched beside you now, posture casual, voice low and smooth. “You’re surprisingly graceful with your hands,” he said, tilting his head with that calm, eerie curiosity. “Ever think about taking up something more… delicate? Puppetry, perhaps?”

Sasuke’s jaw tightened, just barely. But he didn’t look away. Sasori reached out, brushing his fingers near yours under the pretense of helping you sort something. “Such precise control…” He smiled faintly. “I wonder what else you’re good at.”

That was it.

Before you could even respond, Sasuke pushed off the wall and walked over—his steps slow, deliberate, quiet like a shadow. He stopped just behind Sasori, sharing no words at first. Just towering silence. Then, finally— “Shouldn’t you be polishing your puppets, not wasting your time here?”

Sasori turned slightly, unfazed, but Sasuke’s glare was sharp—like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath. His chakra wasn’t flaring, but it felt like it could. “Hn.” Sasuke clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You talk too much.”

A smirk spread across Sasori’s handsome face, but stood. “Tch. Possessive, are we?” Sasuke didn’t answer, nor didn’t have to. Once Sasori reluctantly left, Sasuke sat beside you, closer than usual. He was silent for a few seconds. His gaze stayed forward, but his presence was unmistakably near.

“Don’t let him near you again.” His voice was quiet and firm. Not angry—just honestly blunt. He didn’t explain himself, didn’t glance at you. But the way his hand brushed subtly against yours—intentional and barely there—but still managed to say more than anything else.

Sasuke Uchiha didn’t share and it was clear to be that much.