"Shika, what shirt can I use?" Ino called out as she stepped out of the shower, her hair damp and a bath towel loosely wrapped around her.

"Pick whatever you want," Shikamaru replied lazily from the bed, popping a handful of nuts into his mouth. "The ones on the hangers are usually for going out. But honestly, it doesn't really matter."

Ino paused, an eyebrow arching as she glanced back at him while rifling through his shelves. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He tilted his head to look at her, a sly grin forming as his eyes roamed her now-unwrapped figure. He bit his bottom lip, a faint chuckle escaping him. "It means," he said, his voice dropping an octave, "that the shirt's not gonna stay on you anyway."

Her lips curved into a smirk, matching his energy as she walked over to him, holding the shirt loosely in her hands. "This would be the fourth round," she teased, sliding onto his lap, her body fitting perfectly against his.

Shikamaru's dark eyes flickered with mischief and desire as he let his hands settle on her hips. "And it won't be the last," he murmured, pulling her down to meet his lips in a deep, consuming kiss.

The shirt? It was quickly forgotten, just as he predicted.

Ino walked down the college corridor, her mind still reeling from the morning's events. It wasn't often that Shikamaru had her mind so occupied—usually, she could compartmentalize the parts of her life, but today was different. The rush of emotions, the lingering warmth of his touch... she shook her head, trying to focus.

As she passed by a row of lockers, she suddenly felt a sharp tug on her arm, pulling her back with unexpected force. She stumbled slightly before catching herself, turning to face the person who had grabbed her.

Her eyes widened when she saw who it was—Sasuke Uchiha, his usual brooding expression on his face. She blinked in surprise, but before she could speak, he spoke first, his voice low and direct.

"You were right" Sasuke said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were sizing her up.

Ino tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. The last thing she expected this morning was for Sasuke to approach her like this, especially with something that sounded so damn confusing.

"I am right about many things, Uchiha", Ino started, "Care to explain?"

"You told me so."

Ino looked at him way more confused than he expected, and he still stared at her waiting for the memories flashbacks to strike her blonde head.

FLASHBACK

"Whatever you say, Uchiha. But one day, you're going to have to admit the truth—maybe to her, maybe to yourself. When that day comes, I'm going to say, 'I told you so.' "

END OF FLASHBACK

Ino's eye widen up and clapped her hands at the same time.

"YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR SAKURA?!"

Sasuke flinched, his stoic expression cracking just slightly at the bluntness of Ino's outburst. His eyes darted around to make sure no one was nearby, but in the crowded hallway of the college, the last thing he needed was for anyone to overhear this conversation.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. "It's not like that," he muttered, though the redness creeping up his neck suggested otherwise. Sasuke was never one to openly admit much of anything, especially not feelings.

Ino, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, her arms crossed smugly as she leaned closer to him. "Oh, really?" she teased, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "So you're telling me you've been brooding over her for months, fighting random dudes over her honor, and you don't have feelings? Is that your story, Sasuke?"

I regret it. I regret coming to her so fucking much.

Sasuke's jaw tightened, but he didn't retort immediately. He was quiet for a moment, as though struggling to find the right words—or perhaps simply unwilling to acknowledge the truth aloud. But Ino's mischievous smile never wavered, watching him with amusement.

Finally, Sasuke let out a heavy sigh. "I didn't want to get involved. I just… I couldn't let her get hurt again."

Ino raised an eyebrow, now genuinely intrigued. She folded her arms, leaning back against the locker and watching Sasuke. "Huh. Hurt by what? Love?"

Sasuke's eye twitched at the word "love" as he cannot help not getting frustrated imagining Sakura in love with someone. Someone else, more precisely. Why the hell was it so hard to understand what he feels?

His eyes scanned her face, and he began to tell her everything that he and Naruto overheard that day—how Jenji wanted to use Sakura and then toss her aside like a used sock. He couldn't let that happen to her, so he decided to step in and help her, without her ever knowing that he was only trying to protect her and not leave her without a boyfriend. But Jenji provoked him, and well, it ended in a fight that scared Sakura and turned her against him. Now, he needed to explain everything to her, but she didn't want to talk to him, and he didn't want to insist.

"This is so much to take in, Sasuke," Ino whispered, shocked by what her friend had said. "You only tried to protect her."

"Will you help me out or not?"

"I have an idea," Ino said thoughtfully.

Sakura stood in the middle of the dimly lit dojo, her breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps as she relentlessly pounded the punching bag. The sound of her fists connecting with the heavy leather echoed in the empty room, each strike fueled by the bubbling rage she couldn't quite release. Her body was drenched in sweat, glistening under the low light, and her toned muscles rippled with each powerful hit.

Her sports bra and leggings, both black, clung to her form, highlighting the strength that she had worked so hard to build over the years. The tattoos on her arms—silent stories of pain, strength, and survival—were now on full display, a contrast against the pale skin as the sweat traced lines down her body. Her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, strands falling loose to frame her agonized face.

She hit the bag harder, pushing herself further, as if trying to beat the confusion and frustration out of herself.

Her fists ached, her arms burned, but still, she didn't stop. Every punch was a release, every jab an attempt to rid herself of the thoughts that had been swirling in her mind for weeks—Jenji, Sasuke, the lies, the confusion, the pain. Her vision blurred, but it wasn't from exhaustion. No, it was because of the emotions threatening to spill over.

Why didn't he just tell me? Why did I have to find out this way?

Her punches began to slow, each one less intense, and the adrenaline started to fade, leaving her feeling hollow. She let her arms drop, standing still, panting heavily as she wiped the sweat from her brow. She stared at the punching bag, her reflection barely visible in the mirror across the room, eyes shadowed with uncertainty.

Was she ever going to find peace with all this? Would she ever understand?

Sakura closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking in deep breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control over her racing thoughts. The silence in the room enveloped her, and for a moment, she allowed herself to simply exist in the stillness.

But she couldn't escape it. She couldn't run from what she didn't understand. And right now, all she could do was fight.

Sweat dripped down her face and neck as her breath came in uneven gasps. She stood there for a moment, staring at the punching bag, her fists still clenched as if she could release the weight of everything pressing on her heart by simply continuing the motion.

But it was no use.

Her vision blurred, and her chest tightened. Without warning, her breath hitched, and the tears she had been holding back for so long began to fall. Quiet, almost silent sobs racked her body, each breath shaky and strained. She pressed her forehead against the cool leather of the punching bag, trying to steady herself, but the tears wouldn't stop. Her hands trembled as she wiped her face with her arm, as if she could will away the vulnerability that was creeping up on her.

Sakura felt lost. Not just in the chaos of her emotions, but in everything that had happened. Jenji's betrayal, Sasuke's strange interference, the confusion he left behind with all of his hot-cold games, the anger, the workload, the college tasks... It was all too much. She didn't know who to trust anymore, and the weight of the realization hit her harder than any punch she'd thrown.

Her sobs were muffled by the punching bag, the room silent except for the sound of her breathing. The dojo felt like the only place she could let it all out, away from the eyes of the world.

And then, she heard a sound—a quiet shuffle, the softest footstep on the wooden floor. Her breath froze, and she quickly wiped her face again, trying to compose herself, but it was too late.

She looked up, eyes wide, and saw him standing there.

Sasuke