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Summary
Citizens of the Land of Fire were superstitious people. Sasuke was not. When he—against his better judgement—decided to hunt down a ghost from his own past, he couldn't care less which hotel room he ended up in. A nicer place probably wouldn't even have a room number 9 that, when pronounced aloud, sounded suspiciously similar to 'suffering' and smelled like a mixture of cleaning agents and poor life choices. None of it mattered when it meant sharing a stolen moment exempt from the passage of time with the one person he would spend a whole lifetime missing and whose absence would be waiting for him once all of this was over.