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“Can’t you do it?”
Sasuke’s voice is serious, almost devoid of emotion, but Naruto can feel his sneer nonetheless. Sasuke still appeared beaten by life, but he’d quickly regained his old impudence and arrogance. And- and perhaps there was something new, something that Naruto could not quite grasp.
“Fuck you…I can handle it!”
The old Sasuke would have laughed- would have called him moron as his clumsy fingers plucked at the fabric.
“I can,” Naruto repeats.
“I hate Konoha,” Sasuke says, as he moves closer to Naruto with the fallen forehead-protector in his hands. “Turn around,” he adds.
“I don’t need you to help me! What kind of shinobi can’t do something like this?!”
Sasuke knees him in the back. “And keep your head straight!” He puts one end of the fabric in his mouth and the other in his hand. Yes, that’s easier. And then it’s done. “You’re not alone. There are people to help you.”
“What, to help me every single day until I get a new arm?” Naruto leans back, resting his head on Sasuke’s chest.
“Yes. If that’s what you need.” Sasuke stares down at the forehead protector, running his fingers over the notches.
“What are you doing?” Naruto asks.
“I like it,” he replies.
“How can you like it? You despise everything connected with Konoha.”
“With Konoha- yes,” Sasuke speaks, his voice softening. “But not with you. It’s a spiral.”
“Huh?”
“The symbol; it’s a spiral. A Naruto, in Konoha.”
He was at ease; that’s what it is. Sasuke was never like this before, not ever. He would never have allowed it. Was it as Sakura had said? She called it…remission.
Sasuke was changing; and maybe, one day, he’d start to heal.