"Sasuke," a familiar voice called from behind, stopping him in his tracks. Sasuke closed his eyes, exhaling sharply as he tilted his head back, already bracing himself for what was coming. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"What do you think you're doing?" Itachi's tone was calm but carried an edge, the kind only an older brother could wield. Sasuke could practically see him standing there, arms crossed, smirking like he had everything figured out.

Itachi Uchiha—always the picture of composed authority, always the one with all the answers. He was the kind of person who noticed everything. He could sense discomfort before you even voiced it, recognize happiness in the smallest of gestures, hear what you didn't say, and see what you tried to hide. A doctor of philosophy, in a way, though he was neither a doctor nor a philosopher. He was, simply, a prosecutor—a fitting role for someone who dissected human behavior as naturally as breathing.

Sasuke turned slowly, his expression already slipping into a mask of irritation. "To say hello to a friend?" he said flatly, raising an eyebrow as his brother's knowing grin came into view.

"You know, little brother," Itachi began, walking toward him with measured, deliberate steps. Sasuke hated that—how he managed to make even the simplest actions feel like some kind of power move. "Lately, I've noticed you've had your head in the clouds. You're distracted. But let me remind you—don't play both ends. You're an Uchiha. We have an image to maintain."

Sasuke rolled his eyes, his frustration bubbling just below the surface.
Here it comes, he thought. The lecture.

Itachi stopped a few feet away, his expression softening but his words hitting their mark with precision. "And I'd prefer you not hurt her again."

Sasuke stiffened, his jaw tightening. He didn't need this reminder—not from Itachi, not from anyone. He was perfectly aware of his past mistakes, particularly the ones involving Sakura. It wasn't exactly something he was proud of. But the past was called the past for a reason, wasn't it? It was a chapter you moved on from, not one you lived in.

Still, Itachi's words dredged up memories he'd rather forget. He remembered that day in high school all too well—the day he'd found Sakura's letter in his locker, a heartfelt confession of her feelings for him. And what had he done? He'd torn it up in front of her, grinning like the arrogant jerk he was back then, and told her how pathetic she was. He hadn't even registered the hurt on her face until Naruto confronted him about it, fists flying, calling him out for being a heartless bastard.

It wasn't just Naruto's reaction that stuck with him. It was the aftermath—the disappointment in his mother's eyes when the school called about his detention, the lecture she gave him about respect and decency. And, of course, her unyielding suspicion of Sakura, the girl whose name she never learned but whom she blamed for "provoking" her son's behavior.

He clenched his fists at the memory, shaking it off. That was years ago. Things were different now—or at least, he liked to think they were.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Sasuke muttered, his tone sharp.

Itachi tilted his head slightly, his smirk fading into something more serious. "Oh, I do," he said. "And if you take another step down this road, you'll hurt her again. She doesn't deserve that. Not from you."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, his frustration boiling over. "Who said anything about hurting her? I just want to make sure she's okay. She's injured, Itachi, and she works here, at this hospital. What am I supposed to do—ignore it?"

Itachi studied him for a long moment, his silence speaking volumes. Then he sighed, his expression softening, but there was a flicker of doubt in his gaze.

"You can dress it up however you want, Sasuke," he said quietly. "But don't pretend this is just about making sure she's okay. You're treading a fine line, and I hope, for her sake, you know what you're doing."

Sasuke smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I learned to be a man from my older brother," he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and strode toward the hospital entrance, leaving Itachi behind.

Itachi watched him go, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Sasuke, you idiot," he muttered under his breath.

Sasuke moved through the hospital corridors with purpose, though his mind was far from calm. Itachi's words lingered, biting at him with the irritating persistence of a splinter under the skin. You're treading a fine line. Fine line or not, Sasuke wasn't about to turn back. Not when Sakura had looked so pale, her brow furrowed as she rushed past earlier.

When he reached her office, the door was slightly ajar, light spilling out into the dim hallway. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering near the doorframe. He could hear her moving around inside—papers rustling, the soft clink of glass against metal.

Steeling himself, Sasuke knocked lightly and pushed the door open.

Sakura looked up, startled. She was standing by her desk, a bandage hastily thrown on her forehead, her movements stiff as though she were trying to mask some discomfort. Her wide green eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Sasuke?" she said finally, her voice tinged with surprise and a hint of wariness. "What are you doing here?"

"Weekly check-up on mom. You're hurt," he stated flatly, completely ignoring her scolding tone. He pointed at her forehead like it was the most offensive thing he'd seen all day. "What, did a shelf take personal offense to you?"

Sakura groaned, already annoyed. "It's nothing. Just a tiny accident, no big deal." She waved him off, but Sasuke was already crossing the room.

"That's not 'nothing,' Haruno," he shot back, narrowing his eyes at her bandage. "You can't even patch yourself up right. What kind of doctor are you?"

"A very competent one, thank you very much!" she huffed, crossing her arms. "And stop calling me Haruno, you idiot!"

"Nope," he quipped, smirking as he reached out to inspect the bandage despite her obvious protests.

"Sasuke!" she swatted his hand away, glaring at him. "Personal space! Ever heard of it?"

"Yeah, but you don't need it," he said with a smirk, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Besides, it's not like you're doing a great job protecting yourself. What were you even doing? Wrestling the storage closet?"

"You're impossible!" she threw her hands up dramatically. "Yes, the storage closet hates me, okay? Are you happy now?"

"Ecstatic," he said, deadpan. "Now sit still."

Sakura rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck. "Seriously, I'm fine. This is unnecessary."

"No, what's unnecessary is you walking around with a bandage that looks like you let Naruto apply it," Sasuke countered, grabbing the first aid kit on her desk and sitting it down with a flourish.

Sakura raised an eyebrow, watching him skeptically. "And you think you can do better?"

"Obviously," he said, his tone bordering on smug. "Hold still."

She groaned but didn't stop him as he gently peeled back the bandage. She winced, and he gave her a sideways glance of concern.

"Drama queen," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" she fired back, narrowing her eyes. "This coming from the guy who once sprained his wrist and acted like it was a mortal wound."

"I don't recall that," he said quickly, smirking as he dabbed antiseptic onto her cut. "But thanks for confirming you remember everything about me, Haruno."

She opened her mouth to retort but shut it just as quickly, realizing she was playing right into his hands. Instead, she settled for an exaggerated groan. "You're impossible."

"And you're clumsy," he replied smoothly, applying a fresh bandage. "Good thing I'm here to save you from yourself again."

Sakura gave him a long, flat stare. "Congratulations. Want a medal or something?"

Sasuke smirked, his confidence radiating as he leaned casually against the edge of her desk. "Nah, I'm good. But maybe you can thank me by telling me more about that date you're having tomorrow."

Her cheeks flushed, but her irritation flared. "Why do you care? It's not like—"

"Because it's pathetic," Sasuke interrupted, his voice low and cutting. "You're not stupid, Sakura. You know exactly what he's doing. He's playing it safe, buttering you up with compliments and sweet little gestures, hoping you'll fall for it. Like fucking messages on a coffee cup."

Her eyes narrowed. "And what's wrong with that? At least he's trying, which is more than I can say for most people."

"Is that really what you want?" Sasuke pressed, his gaze locking onto hers. "Some guy who worships the ground you walk on, who'll say whatever you want to hear just to keep you happy?"

"And what if it is what I want?" Sakura shot back, her voice rising. "Why does it bother you so much, Sasuke? Jealous?"

The word hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Sasuke didn't respond. His jaw tightened, and a muscle ticked in his temple as he stared at her, his dark eyes betraying the turmoil behind them.

"Jealous?" he repeated finally, his tone a mix of mockery and something darker. "Not even close to that. Only the idea of you wasting your time on someone who doesn't even know you is enough."

Her breath hitched, but she refused to look away. "And you think you do?"

"I know you better than he ever will," Sasuke said, stepping closer. The space between them was rapidly disappearing, and Sakura's heart pounded in her chest as his presence became impossible to ignore. "I know that you hate fake compliments. That you'd rather have someone call you out on your bullshit than kiss your ass. And I also know that you only bite your lip like that when you're trying to hide something."

Her eyes widened, her lip instantly releasing from between her teeth. "I'm not hiding anything. You're thinking way too much."

"Really?" Sasuke murmured, his voice dropping as he leaned in, his face inches from hers. "Because it sure feels like you are."

Sakura's breath caught, her pulse racing as his proximity overwhelmed her senses. The faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body—it was all too much. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck in her throat as his gaze dropped to her lips. Sasuke was close now, too close, the air between them charged with something she couldn't quite name. His hand came up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with a gentleness that caught her completely off guard.

He's not going to kiss me, she thought, her mind a chaotic mess of emotions she didn't have the energy to untangle. Is he?

But just as he tilted his head slightly, his lips dangerously close to hers, her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket, jolting her back to reality.

Sakura fumbled to pull it out, her hands shaking slightly as she saw Tsunade's name flashing on the screen. She swallowed hard, her voice shaky as she answered. Sasuke's jaw tightened slightly, his smirk fading into something unreadable as he straightened and took a step back, his hands returning to his pockets.

Sakura swiped to answer. "Hello? Yes, Shishou. I'll be there in five minutes." She ended the call quickly, still feeling the tension thrumming in her chest as she turned to Sasuke. "I have to go."

He didn't respond immediately, his dark eyes fixed on her like he was trying to decipher something. Finally, he nodded. "Sure. Go."

She hesitated for a moment, as though waiting for him to say something else, but he didn't. With a small nod, she grabbed her clipboard with tests results and brushed past him, her shoulder barely grazing his as she left.

Sasuke stood there for a moment longer, staring at the door after she disappeared. His hand twitched at his side before he sighed, running it through his hair and muttering to himself.

"Damn it, Sakura."

Idiot, he thought bitterly. Why the hell do I keep doing this?