The afternoon sun bathed the Uchiha district in a soft, golden light. The air was warm and still, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the training field where Sasuke had led you. He carried a small bag slung over his shoulder, the faint clinking of metal betraying its contents. You tilted your head at him, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

“What are we doing out here?” you asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Sasuke set the bag down with deliberate care before straightening. His dark eyes studied you, calm yet steady, and then he spoke in that low, even tone that carried weight no matter how simply he phrased things.

“I want to teach you how to throw kunai,” he said. The faintest hint of a smile touched his lips, the kind that had become more frequent in recent days, subtle but enough to warm you. “It’s important to know how to defend yourself… even though I’ll always be here to protect you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Sasuke had already drawn a kunai from the bag, holding it with ease. He moved a few paces away, positioning himself before the wooden post that stood at the far end of the field.

“Watch closely.”

With practiced grace, he demonstrated the throw, his wrist flicking with precise control. The blade embedded itself deep in the center of the post with a satisfying thud. He retrieved another and repeated the motion slower this time, letting you observe each movement.

When he finally placed the weapon in your hand, you tried to mimic him. The kunai felt heavier than expected, awkward in your grip. You raised your arm, exhaled, and threw—only to watch it tumble through the air and land far off the mark.

Heat rushed to your face, but before you could voice your frustration, Sasuke stepped behind you. His presence was immediate and overwhelming—solid warmth at your back, the subtle brush of his breath near your ear.

“Not like that,” he murmured, his voice deep and steady, vibrating through you. He reached for your arm, his hand firm yet careful as he adjusted your stance. His other hand settled lightly at your waist, nudging you into proper alignment.

“Feel the weight of the kunai in your hand,” he continued, his words soft but edged with that unmistakable authority. “Let it become an extension of you. Don’t hesitate. You need to trust your movement.”

Your heartbeat quickened, not just from the closeness but from the quiet intensity in his voice. His hands covered yours, guiding you through the motion.

“Now, aim for the target,” Sasuke said, lowering his voice even further, as though speaking only for you. “Visualize the center. Nothing else exists but that.”

You drew in a breath, focusing as best you could, and threw. The kunai spun through the air but missed the target again, landing off to the side.

A low chuckle escaped him—quiet, almost teasing, yet rare enough to make you glance back in surprise. His eyes softened, though his smirk betrayed his amusement.

“Concentrate,” he said simply, the corner of his lips curving slightly higher. “I’ll help you again.”

This time, he stepped closer, his chest brushing your back as he aligned your arm. His warmth seeped through you, steady and unyielding. His fingers closed around your hand with more certainty, his touch guiding you with absolute control.

“Now,” he whispered, his breath grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Throw.”

You obeyed, releasing the kunai with a stronger, clearer motion. It cut through the air, landing in the wooden post with a firm thunk. Not the center, but far closer than before.

A smile broke across your face—bright, genuine, triumphant. You turned to him, eager to share your excitement, but the words never left your lips. Sasuke’s hand came up, steady and deliberate, tilting your face toward him. His fingers were warm against your skin, his gaze unreadable yet filled with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“Good girl,” he said, the praise quiet but weighted with warmth and meaning.

The moment lingered, his hand still cradling your cheek.