He wasn’t supposed to be the one crying. But there he was, storming into the healer’s tent, fists clenched, bandages still peeling from his arms, dirt caked in his fingernails, blood smeared down his cheek. His voice was shaking, not from pain. From fury.

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

Your head snapped up at his voice. He was loud enough to startle the medic, who quietly stepped back and gave you both space.

You were still pale. Still stitched and stiff and sore. The wound across your side burned with every breath. But Naruto looked like he was the one who’d been stabbed.

You opened your mouth to speak. He cut you off.

"You jumped in front of me." His voice was lower now, trembling. "You knew he was gonna land that hit and you still jumped in front of me."

“You would've taken it right in the chest, Naruto,” you said quietly, voice hoarse.

"So what?!" he snapped. "So freaking what if I did?!"

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

"It’s supposed to be me. I’m supposed to take the hits. I’m the idiot who runs into danger! I’ve done it a thousand times! But you—!" He stopped, pointing at you with shaking fingers. “You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to put yourself in front of me like you’re nothing! Like your life doesn’t matter!”

You flinched. The words stung harder than the wound. He noticed. And it made him even madder.

"You think you’re being brave?!" he hissed. "You think saving me means more than what I’d lose if something happened to you?!"

The tent fell quiet, except for the rustle of the wind outside.

"Don’t ever do that again."

You looked up. He wasn’t yelling anymore. He wasn’t pacing. He just stood there, staring at you like you’d shattered something inside him.

"If you die for me..." his voice cracked, just a little, "...then I’ll never forgive you."