undone

Naruto wasn’t stupid.

People thought he was, mostly because he ran his mouth too much and didn’t think before he spoke, but he wasn’t actually an idiot. He noticed things.

He noticed the way Sasuke had picked at his food more than he actually ate it. He noticed the way Sasuke had hated every second of it, even though all he had done was eat a normal amount—barely a full meal. And he definitely noticed the way Sasuke had been acting off ever since.

But Naruto knew better than to push.

If he wanted Sasuke to talk, he had to be patient. And if he wasn’t going to talk, then Naruto could at least make sure he wasn’t making things worse.

So, when they got back to their dorm, Naruto didn’t say anything about it. Didn’t bring up how tense Sasuke was, or how quiet he’d gotten, or how he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

Instead, he flopped onto the couch, grabbed a controller, and tossed the other one at Sasuke’s head.

“Alright, bastard,” Naruto said, stretching out and making himself comfortable. “Let’s get this over with. You’re gonna lose so bad, it’s not even funny.”

Sasuke caught the controller easily, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “You really think you can beat me?”

Naruto grinned. “Oh, I know I can beat you.”

Sasuke snorted, but his posture eased a little, tension shifting just enough that Naruto knew he had made the right call.

For the next couple of hours, they didn’t talk—not really. But they didn’t need to. They trashed each other through round after round of Smash Bros, Naruto making every loss loud and every win even louder, while Sasuke stayed infuriatingly calm no matter what happened.

At some point, Sasuke stretched out on the couch beside him, tucking his feet up like he was trying to get comfortable, but Naruto didn’t miss the way his arms stayed wrapped around his stomach.

Naruto side-eyed him, pretending to focus on the screen.

Yeah. He definitely wasn’t imagining things.

The way Sasuke’s knee bounced every now and then. The way he barely moved, like shifting too much might make everything worse. The way he was still shivering, even in their heated dorm, even when Naruto had literally thrown his hoodie at him earlier like some kind of human sacrifice.

Sasuke’s body language was off.

And Naruto didn’t know why.

His stomach twisted at the thought, frustration bubbling under his skin. He hated not knowing. Hated feeling like something was right there, just out of reach, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite get it.

Sasuke wasn’t fine.

He acted fine, but Naruto knew him too well. He could see the cracks.

And that meant there was something Naruto wasn’t seeing.

Something Sasuke didn’t want him to see.

Naruto inhaled deeply, forcing himself to focus. He couldn’t do anything if Sasuke wasn’t willing to admit that he wasn’t invincible. Pushing him never worked—it only made him shut down even more.

So, instead, he nudged Sasuke’s leg with his foot.

“Hey,” Naruto said, keeping his voice casual. “Wanna order a pizza?”

Sasuke didn’t look away from the screen. “No.”

Naruto hummed. “What about Chinese?”

“No.”

Naruto clicked his tongue, thinking. “Ice cream?”

Sasuke shot him a flat look. “Do you ever not think about food?”

“Uh, no?” Naruto grinned, leaning back. “C’mon, it’s a chill day, we should eat chill food.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond.

Naruto watched him for a second longer, then sighed and stretched his arms over his head. “Alright, fine, whatever. But don’t come crying to me when you’re starving later.”

Sasuke didn’t respond to that either.

And Naruto didn’t push.

—

Sasuke’s stomach was still too full.

It wasn’t actually full, not by any normal standard, but it felt like it. Every shift, every movement sent a sharp wave of discomfort rolling through his gut, a reminder that he had kept down more food than he was used to.

He hated it.

It sat inside him, heavy and wrong, like his body was struggling to process something it wasn’t meant to have.

But Naruto was watching him. Not obviously—Naruto wasn’t exactly subtle about anything, and if he had really been staring, Sasuke would have called him out.

Naruto noticed things.

It was infuriating.

So, instead of retreating to the bathroom or coming up with an excuse to go on a walk alone (preferably to find a nice bush to puke behind), Sasuke grabbed the controller Naruto had thrown at him and settled in on the couch.

If he could just wait it out, if he could make himself ignore the way his stomach twisted and the creeping anxiety that came with it, then Naruto would eventually stop caring so much and just get over it.

At least, that was the plan.

But even as they fell into their usual rhythm—Naruto being obnoxiously loud every time he won, Sasuke pointedly ignoring him—he couldn’t shake the feeling of disgust. He had to get this shit out.

He knew Naruto had noticed he was acting off, and Naruto wasn’t exactly the type to let things like that go.

Sasuke braced himself for it, waiting for Naruto to inevitably call him out, but when Naruto finally spoke, his voice was just a bit too casual.

“Hey, wanna order a pizza?”

Sasuke didn’t look at him. “No.”

“What about Chinese?”

“No.”

“Ice cream?”

Sasuke shot him a flat look. “Do you ever not think about food?”

Naruto grinned, leaning back. “Uh, no?” He stretched his arms out, making himself comfortable. “C’mon, it’s a chill day, we should eat chill food.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Naruto was so fucking stupid. He loved hated him so much.

“Alright, fine, whatever,” Naruto said, finally looking back at the screen. “But don’t come crying to me when you’re starving later.”

Sasuke didn’t respond.

And Naruto didn’t push.

—

Sasuke could roll his eyes and act uninterested all he wanted, but Naruto knew what was up. Knew the signs of Sasuke shutting down, of him curling in on himself like he thought no one would notice.

Naruto noticed.

He noticed when Sasuke picked at his food at lunch. He noticed how eating seemed to make him miserable, which was just the most baffling thing ever, because who the hell didn’t like eating? He noticed how Sasuke was still clutching at his stomach like it was some kind of battle he was barely winning.

And Naruto didn’t like it.

So, after a few more rounds of Smash—which Sasuke totally cheated in, by the way—Naruto casually pulled out his phone, leaned back into the couch, and placed an order for food anyway.

When Naruto’s phone vibrated with the order confirmation, Sasuke gave him a side glance.

“What did you just do?”

“Nothing,” Naruto said, a small guilty smile spreading across his face.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “Naruto.”

Naruto grinned, locking his phone. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sasuke exhaled sharply, clearly not in the mood for whatever game Naruto was playing. “If you ordered something for me, I’m not eating it.”

Naruto shrugged, tossing his phone onto the couch. “Cool. Guess I’ll have extra, then.”

Sasuke scowled. “You’re so—”

“Awesome? Thoughtful? An amazing roommate?”

“Infuriating,” Sasuke muttered, crossing his arms.

Naruto just smirked. “Yeah, yeah. You love me.”

Sasuke didn’t dignify that with a response, forcing a frown instead.

Which meant Naruto was totally right.

He didn’t expect Sasuke to eat much, if at all. But Sasuke could sulk all he wanted. Naruto was stubborn as hell. And patient.

Not always, not with most things—but when it came to Sasuke, he knew better than to push too hard. He knew when to let things go, when to wait, when to give Sasuke space until he was ready to give in.

And Sasuke would give in. Eventually.

Naruto had learned that forcing things never worked. The more he pried, the harder Sasuke shut down. But if he played it right—if he gave Sasuke just enough room to pretend he wasn’t being forced to do something—then he could get somewhere.

So, he didn’t push.

Instead, he played another round of Smash, letting Sasuke stew in whatever brooding mess was going on in his head. He didn't need to look at him to know that he was probably regretting not locking himself away in his room the second they got home.

Sasuke thought he was slick, that he was subtle—but Naruto had lived with him for over a year. He saw the little things.

Like how he kept subtly shifting, like he couldn’t quite get comfortable, even though he was curled into the couch in the exact way he always did when he was exhausted but too damn proud to admit it.

Sasuke was tense.

Naruto could see it in the way Sasuke’s jaw stayed locked, the way his eyes flickered toward the door every time a shadow passed under the frame, the way his foot tapped against the carpet with a rhythm just a little too controlled to be casual. It wasn’t just his usual brand of irritation or indifference—it was something deeper, something unsettled. And Naruto hated it.

Because Sasuke wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sure, he was an asshole most of the time, but he was a steady kind of asshole—predictable, in a weird way. When things were normal, Sasuke’s insults were sharper, his comebacks quicker, his presence solid and unshaken.

But when something was wrong—when things got bad—Sasuke started to pull in on himself. The sharp edges dulled, not because he was calming down, but because he was retreating. Shrinking. Trying to disappear before anyone could notice.

Naruto noticed.

And he was noticing now.

He didn’t know what had Sasuke so on edge. It couldn’t possibly be just about lunch.

Sure, Sasuke had been weird about food for as long as Naruto had known him, but this felt different. This wasn’t his usual brand of annoyance when Naruto shoved a plate in front of him or tried to drag him out for ramen. This wasn’t just him being picky or having a small appetite or whatever excuse he always gave.

Naruto had seen Sasuke pissed off about food before—rolling his eyes, scoffing, complaining. It wasn’t the usual irritation that came with Naruto pushing his limits. It wasn’t the kind of annoyance that made Sasuke call him an idiot and move on.

Naruto didn’t know what had set him off, but he could feel it—lingering in the air between them, pressing into the space where words should have been. It was in the way Sasuke barely reacted to Naruto’s taunts, in the way his shoulders stayed tight, in the way he kept fidgeting with the edge of Naruto’s hoodie, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Too quiet.

Naruto didn’t like it.

Naruto furrowed his brows, focusing on the game to keep from staring outright. He didn’t get it. He really didn’t. Sasuke had barely eaten at lunch—so why did he look like it was physically killing him to sit there?

He’d always figured Sasuke was just one of those people who didn’t care much about food. That he didn’t like eating the way Naruto did. But this? Why did he look so.. uncomfortable. Almost in pain.

Did eating make him sick? Did he have some kind of weird stomach issue he never told Naruto about? Was it something worse?

Naruto’s mind ran through all the dumb possibilities—some kind of stomach issue, a food allergy Sasuke refused to acknowledge, maybe even stress, since college did a number on everyone.

Or maybe, Naruto thought, it was him.

Maybe he was stressing Sasuke out. Maybe Sasuke just didn’t like eating around people, and Naruto being a pushy asshole about it only made it worse.

The thought made something tight settle in his chest, something close to guilt.

Naruto let out a breath, rolling his shoulders. “You know,” he started, keeping his tone easy, “if you’ve got some kind of stomach problem or whatever, you could just say so. I’d stop bugging you about food.”

Sasuke’s hands tensed on the controller, just for a second, before his body language forced itself back into something neutral. “I don’t.”

Naruto shot him a look. “Yeah? ‘Cause you’ve been acting real normal about eating lately.”

Sasuke didn’t answer.

Naruto waited, but Sasuke didn’t deny it either. He just kept his focus trained on the game, like he could pretend they weren’t even having this conversation if he ignored it hard enough.

Typical.

Naruto sighed, stretching out his legs and nudging Sasuke’s foot with his own. “Alright, alright. Be weird about it. I don’t care.”

Sasuke scoffed. “Clearly, you do.”

Naruto grinned, nudging him again, harder. “Nah, I just like pissing you off.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away.

And Naruto let it go.

For now.

—

Naruto wasn’t supposed to notice this shit. He wasn’t supposed to care this much.

Sasuke had been fine before—he had been dealing with this for years, and Naruto had only been involved for a fraction of that time. So why did it feel so much harder to deal with now?

It wasn’t like he was going to fucking die.

(At least, not yet.)

Sasuke exhaled through his nose, gripping the controller in his hands a little tighter. He could get through this. He could sit here, play their stupid game, pretend that he wasn’t completely unraveling from the inside out, and Naruto would eventually move on.

He just had to wait it out.

His stomach still felt too full, a horrible, gnawing discomfort that made him want to claw at his skin until he felt empty again.

He just had to get through this.

It would be fine.

Either way, it was infuriating.

But Naruto wasn’t going anywhere.

And, for some reason, Sasuke didn’t actually want him to.