undone

Sasuke stared blankly at the ceiling of his dorm room, the faint glow of his bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. His body still felt heavy, uncooperative, the aftershocks of earlier lingering in the dull ache behind his eyes and the exhaustion dragging at his limbs.

He hadn’t meant to let it get this bad.

He’d passed out before—more times than he could count, honestly—but it had always been in the privacy of his own room, or the dorm when Naruto wasn’t around. He had always made sure to actually eat just enough to keep himself functioning, to prevent anything like that from happening in front of people.

But he’d slipped.

He had gotten too comfortable—too reckless.

Sasuke exhaled slowly, pressing his fingertips against his temples. His head was still foggy, thoughts tangled and sluggish, but he couldn’t stop replaying Naruto’s voice over and over in his head.

You scared the shit out of me. What the hell is going on with you?

Sasuke had seen the look in his eyes.

Naruto was pissed. Worried.

And Sasuke didn’t know what to do with that.

He hadn’t meant for Naruto to find out. Hadn’t meant for anyone to find out. This wasn’t supposed to be something that mattered. It was just something he dealt with—just another part of his life, another thing he had to manage, like everything else.

But Naruto didn’t see it like that.

And the worst part?

Sasuke wasn’t sure he could even argue with him anymore.

A sharp frustration curled in his chest, twisting against the exhaustion settling deep in his bones.

He should have been more careful.

Naruto had seen.

And instead of letting it go, instead of brushing it off like any normal person would, he had grabbed Sasuke and called him out.

Sasuke shut his eyes, jaw clenching.

He should have just said something dismissive, thrown out some lie about low blood sugar or not sleeping enough or anything that would get Naruto off his back. But instead, he’d frozen. Instead, he’d let Naruto get to him.

And then—he cringed at the memory—he’d let himself say something. Something that made Naruto’s face drop, something that made his entire body language shift from pissed off to something worse. Something so much worse.

Because Naruto hadn’t just been angry. He’d been scared.

Sasuke’s stomach curled at the thought.

He hated it. Hated that Naruto cared so much. Hated that he’d made himself so obvious that now Naruto was getting involved.

He needed to get himself back under control.

This wasn’t supposed to matter.

It wasn’t supposed to be something that affected anyone else.

And yet, for the first time in a long time, Sasuke felt something like doubt creeping in. Because passing out in his own room, alone, where no one could see—that was fine. That was manageable. But this? Losing control in front of Naruto, of all people?

That wasn’t okay.

—

Over the next week, not much changed—or at least, not on the surface.

Sasuke made an effort. He tried.

He forced himself to eat a little more when Naruto was watching, tried to act like he wasn’t completely unraveling under the weight of Naruto’s concern. But it never lasted long. More often than not, he ended up excusing himself to the bathroom, the food sitting too wrong, too heavy, twisting his stomach into knots until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Naruto didn’t know.

But he still suspected something.

Sasuke could see it in the way Naruto looked at him.

He wasn’t subtle. He never had been.

The side-eyes during meals, the barely restrained irritation when Sasuke pushed food around more than he actually ate it, the way Naruto watched him now—like he was trying to catch something.

Sasuke hated it.

Hated how much effort it took to act normal. Hated that, no matter what he did, Naruto still knew something was wrong.

—

Naruto wasn’t stupid.

He didn’t know exactly what was going on with Sasuke—didn’t have the full picture, didn’t understand why he was like this when it came to food—but he knew something was still wrong.

It had been a week since Sasuke nearly passed out in class, and while things on the surface seemed sort of normal, Naruto wasn’t convinced.

He could tell Sasuke was trying—or at least, he was making an effort when Naruto was around. He wasn’t flat-out refusing food anymore, wasn’t brushing him off as much when Naruto asked if he’d eaten. But still… something wasn’t adding up.

Because Naruto watched him.

And yeah, maybe that was a little weird, maybe it made him seem paranoid, but he couldn’t help it. The whole situation sat wrong with him, lodged in the back of his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Sasuke would take food when Naruto handed it to him. He’d eat just enough that Naruto couldn’t say anything. But then, more often than not, within ten or fifteen minutes, he was suddenly getting up, mumbling something about the bathroom, and disappearing for a while.

And every time he came back, he looked just a little more tired. A little more worn down.

Naruto didn’t know what to make of it.

He wasn’t dumb enough to believe Sasuke was eating enough—not when he still looked just as pale, when his fingers still felt cold when Naruto flicked them just to piss him off, when he still had that same hollowed-out look sometimes, like he was barely hanging on.

But Naruto didn’t know how to call him out.

Didn’t know what to call him out on.

He had no idea what the hell he was doing, and that made his skin crawl. Because this wasn’t just Sasuke being weird or picky. This was something else. Something bigger.

Sasuke was good at brushing him off. Good at making everything seem fine. But Naruto knew better now. He knew what it looked like when Sasuke was trying to disappear right in front of him.

And Naruto wasn’t just going to let that happen.

He just… needed to figure out how to stop it.

Something was wrong with Sasuke. That much was obvious.

But Naruto didn’t know what.

He sat on his bed, phone in hand, staring at the search bar for a long time before finally typing:

why isn’t my friend eating

The results loaded instantly.

- Medical conditions that cause loss of appetite
- Stress and its effects on eating habits
- What to do if your friend stops eating

Naruto frowned, scrolling down. Some of the articles talked about stomach issues, like ulcers or food intolerances. Others mentioned depression, anxiety—stuff he knew Sasuke wasn’t going to talk about or admit to even if it was true.

He hesitated before deleting his search and trying something else.

what happens if you don’t eat enough

The first result made his stomach twist.

- Signs of malnutrition and starvation

Naruto clicked on it before he could second-guess himself, skimming through the symptoms.

- Fatigue(Sasuke was always tired. He looked exhausted all the time, even when he slept in.)
- Dizziness(Well, yeah. He nearly passed out in class.)
- Cold intolerance (Naruto had literally thrown his hoodie at him last week and he was still shivering.)
- Muscle weakness(Sasuke wasn’t weak but..)
- Irritability(Okay, but Sasuke was always like that.)

Naruto swallowed, jaw clenching.

It wasn’t just this. It couldn’t just be this.

Sasuke was eating. Just… not enough. And it still didn’t explain why he kept running off to the bathroom after meals.

Naruto hesitated before typing again.

why does my friend go to the bathroom after eating

He almost didn’t want to see the answers.

- Could your friend have an eating disorder?
- Signs of disordered eating behaviors
- Bulimia: What to look for if you're worried about a friend

Naruto stared.

His pulse pounded in his ears as he clicked the second link.

- Skipping meals or eating very little(Yeah.)
- Obsessing over food or weight(…Maybe?)
- Disappearing after meals(Fuck.)
- Frequent stomach pain or digestive issues(Sasuke always said he had a weird stomach, but Naruto had never actually seen him sick.)
- Changes in mood or extreme secrecy around eating habits(Sasuke barely let Naruto see him eat at all.)

Naruto’s stomach twisted. He clicked on another article. Then another. He kept scrolling, eyes flicking over words that made everything feel real in a way he didn’t like.

Because this? This wasn’t just not eating enough.

This was a thing.

A real thing.

Naruto couldn’t wrap his head around it.

The more he read, the more he scrolled through article after article, the less sense any of it made.

Because the whole weight thing? The appearance thing? That was insane.

Sasuke was beautiful.

And not in some weird, sappy way—he just was. It was a fact. Naruto had eyes. He had seen the way people looked at him.

Hell, in the one class they had together, at least three different girls blatantly checked Sasuke out every time he walked in the room.

People admired Sasuke. They noticed him.

And yeah, he was a bastard, cold and sharp-edged and impossible to get close to—but that only seemed to make people more obsessed. Naruto wasn’t dumb—he knew at least half the students in their building wanted to either be Sasuke or be with him.

So what the hell was he seeing when he looked in the mirror?

Why would he—?

Naruto ran a hand through his hair, gripping it at the roots. His brain hurt just trying to figure it out.

Because it wasn’t like Sasuke didn’t know he was attractive. He rolled his eyes every time someone got caught staring, like he was used to it. He wasn’t humble about it. He wasn’t shy.

So why would he do this to himself? Why would he starve himself, hurt himself, like he needed to look different?

Naruto hated it. He hated thinking about it.

And more than anything, he hated that he had no idea what to do.

—

Sasuke had never given much thought to the fact that an entire year of his childhood was missing.

It had always been that way—just an empty space where memories should be. He knew that when he was nine, he had been miserable, just as he was when he was eleven. But ten? That year was gone. If someone asked him to recall anything about it, he would come up with nothing but silence. A blank page in his history.

And he had never really tried to remember.

Because what was the point? His childhood hadn’t been worth remembering in the first place. The absence of one year didn’t matter when all the rest had been filled with loneliness, neglect, and the sharp contrast between himself and Itachi.

So he had ignored it.

Until this week.

It had been a normal enough day. Cafeteria food wasn’t something he ate often, but Naruto had been watching him again—throwing him looks, subtly checking his tray, making those little huffs under his breath every time Sasuke barely touched his food. So Sasuke had forced himself to take a few bites, enough to keep Naruto satisfied.

Then he’d excused himself, made his way to the restroom, and locked himself in the farthest stall.

He was quick about it. He had long since learned how to make it fast and quiet, how to minimize the strain in his throat and the burning in his nose. It didn’t take long before his stomach was empty again.

He wiped his mouth, flushed, and stepped out to wash his hands.

He didn’t look at himself in the mirror. He never did. He just focused on scrubbing his hands clean, on rinsing his mouth, making sure there were no signs left behind.

Then—

A presence behind him.

Someone moving into view, just over his shoulder in the mirror.

Sasuke’s breath stopped.

The man looked like a janitor, dressed in standard maintenance coveralls, pushing a mop and bucket. He didn’t glance at Sasuke, didn’t acknowledge him at all.

But Sasuke—

Instant recognition.

It was like something had grabbed his stomach and twisted. His breath turned sharp, his shoulders locked up, and his mind supplied a name before he could even think—

Orochimaru.

He didn’t know how he knew that.

The second it clicked, his pulse spiked, his hands freezing under the running water. His throat clenched up, his skin went cold, and something deep in his chest screamed at him to run.

But why?

His heart was pounding, his muscles had gone tense, but he had no reason to be reacting like this. He didn’t know this man.

Right?

The janitor just walked past, paying him no mind, pushing the mop and bucket like he was just another person going about his day. The door swung shut behind him, and that should have been the end of it.

But Sasuke—

For just a moment—

He felt ten years old.

Like his body had shrunk, like his limbs were smaller, like he had somehow stepped back into something he couldn’t remember.

He forced himself to shut off the sink. Forced himself to leave. Forced himself to act like nothing was wrong.

Because nothing was wrong.

Right?

Except that night, he had his first nightmare.

And then another.

And another.

They weren’t clear. They weren’t even memories, not really—just flashes of sensation, fragments of something he couldn’t quite grasp. The overwhelming feeling of being small and helpless.

A hand on his shoulder. A voice too close to his ear. A sick, twisting feeling in his stomach, something curling around his throat like a warning.

And when he woke up, panting and shaking and drenched in sweat—

He didn’t know why.

So he coped the only way he knew how to cope.

Sasuke had always been good at controlling things. If he could control what went in and out of his body, if he could regulate it, if he could make sure that nothing stuck, then he could at least have that. It was something solid, something predictable. And right now, when his own mind was betraying him with memories that weren’t memories, with nightmares he couldn’t explain, it was all he had.

So he let himself fall back into it.

More than he had in a long time.

Every time Naruto left the dorm, every time he was alone, he went at it. Food he didn’t even taste, eaten too fast, until he felt sick, until his stomach screamed at him to stop. And then, the relief of getting it all out.

It wasn’t enough.

Not with Naruto around.

So Sasuke started asking to borrow his car.

He always gave some excuse—he needed something from the store, he had to run an errand, he just wanted to drive for a bit. And Naruto, trusting and stupidly kind, always handed him the keys.

Sasuke would drive to the convenience store, the one where no one knew him, where he could walk in, buy armfuls of food, and eat it in the parking lot. He’d sit in the backseat of the car, hands shaking, stuffing himself until his stomach was unbearably full, his breath coming short.

Then he’d drive to the nearest restroom and get rid of all of it.

By the time Sasuke got back to the dorm, Naruto was already there, sprawled on the couch. He glanced up when Sasuke walked in, eyes lingering for a beat too long.

“Hey,” Naruto said, voice casual—but not quite. “Get everything you needed?”

Sasuke nodded, kicking off his boots. “Yeah.”

Naruto didn’t say anything at first. He just watched him. Sasuke could feel it, that quiet scrutiny.

He ignored it.

Naruto still hadn’t looked away.

“You’ve been leaving a lot,” Naruto said suddenly, voice oddly careful. “Like… I dunno. Just a lot.”

Sasuke felt his shoulders go rigid. “So?”

Naruto tilted his head, still watching. “So nothing, I guess. Just seems kinda weird.”

Sasuke’s fingers twitched against his knee. “You’re overthinking.”

“Maybe.” Naruto stretched his arms above his head, but his eyes never left Sasuke. “You know you can tell me shit, right?”

Sasuke swallowed hard, forcing himself to scoff, to roll his eyes like Naruto was being ridiculous. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Naruto didn’t look convinced.

But Sasuke quickly headed to his room and sat on his bed, stomach empty, throat raw, jaw tight, wondering if he was taking things too far.

But he already knew the answer to that.

And it didn’t stop him.

—

Sasuke ran a hand down his face, pressing his fingers into his temples as if that would somehow push away the exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks of this. Of waking up in a cold sweat, his pulse hammering, his throat raw from silent screams he didn’t remember letting out.

He was losing track of time again.

It wasn’t just the nightmares—it was the constant, gnawing feeling that something was wrong, that something had always been wrong. The flashes of memory that felt more like hallucinations. The sensation of hands that weren’t there. The sound of a voice he couldn’t place, but that made his stomach twist with dread.

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

He was still trying. Trying to eat when Naruto asked him to, trying to act normal, trying to pretend like he wasn’t unraveling at the seams. But it was getting harder. His head felt foggy, his body weak, and every time he forced food past his lips, the disgust churned so violently in his stomach that he couldn’t keep it down for long.

He knew Naruto was watching him closely now. The blond wasn’t stupid. If Sasuke thought he’d been paying too much attention before, now it was suffocating.

“Dude, you look like shit,” Naruto muttered one morning, frowning as Sasuke rubbed his eyes for what had to be the fifth time in the last minute. “Are you even sleeping?”

Sasuke scoffed, reaching for his coffee. “No.”

Naruto blinked, clearly thrown by the blunt response. “Okay, well… maybe you should, I dunno, try?”

Sasuke shot him a dry look over the rim of his mug. “Brilliant suggestion. I’ll get right on that.”

Naruto sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re—ugh. Whatever. Just… I dunno, tell me if you need something.”

Sasuke hummed noncommittally, taking a slow sip of his coffee. He wouldn’t. There was nothing Naruto could do. This was his problem.

But he had no idea how to fix it.

—

The first few times it happened that week, Sasuke barely thought anything of it.

He’d felt it coming—he always did. The way the edges of his vision went spotty, how his body felt like it was sinking into itself, how the air grew thin and distant. It never lasted long. A few seconds, maybe a minute at most, and then he’d wake up, disoriented, sometimes on the floor, sometimes still slumped in whatever position he’d been in. He never told Naruto. Naruto didn’t need to know.

But then it happened when Naruto was home.

One second, Sasuke was standing in the living room, arms crossed as he listened to Naruto rant about something or other—something about their professor, or maybe it was the price of ramen going up—he wasn’t really listening. He was focusing on staying upright. He’d barely eaten all day, and even the little he’d forced down was sitting like lead in his stomach. The lack of sleep wasn’t helping.

Then, his head swam. His body swayed before he even realized it was happening, and before he could catch himself, the world tilted sideways.

The last thing he heard was Naruto’s panicked voice shouting his name.

Then, nothing.

—

“Sasuke. Sasuke—fuck, come on, wake up—”

There were hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him slightly. His head was throbbing. The rest of his body felt unbearably heavy, like he was trapped under water, limbs too weak to move. A low groan left his lips as he forced his eyes open.

Naruto was hovering over him, wide-eyed and visibly freaked out, mouth pressed in a thin, tight line.

“What the fuck was that?” Naruto snapped, voice sharp, but Sasuke could hear the waver beneath it. “You just—just collapsed. Are you okay?”

Sasuke blinked sluggishly, licking his lips. His mouth felt dry.

“’M fine,” he muttered, starting to push himself up.

Naruto’s hands immediately moved to help him, gripping his arms, keeping him steady. “Fine, my ass,” he said, frustration clear in his voice.

He knew what Naruto was thinking, though. He could see it in his expression—the way his brows furrowed, the way his mouth opened slightly like he was about to say something but then thought better of it.

Naruto had been suspicious for weeks. This was only going to make it worse.

Naruto was still staring at him, eyes dark with frustration, concern, something else Sasuke couldn’t name. His grip on Sasuke’s arm was tight, grounding. Sasuke wished he didn’t feel so unsteady. He wished Naruto would just drop it.

“You’re not fine, bastard.” His voice was sharp, but it wavered, just a little. “You just passed out. You—fuck, you scared the shit out of me, what the hell—“

Sasuke stayed silent.

Naruto huffed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not eating, you look like you haven’t slept in days, and now you’re just collapsing out of nowhere? You—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply, then exhaled through his nose, visibly trying to keep himself from yelling.

Sasuke swallowed, shifting his gaze away. “…I haven’t been sleeping well,” he muttered.

Naruto’s expression flickered, the frustration faltering just for a second before it settled into something softer. Something worried.

“…Yeah?” His voice was quieter now.

Sasuke nodded, gaze fixed on the floor. “Yeah.”

Naruto was still watching him, like he was trying to piece something together. Sasuke wished he’d stop looking at him like that. Like he actually cared.

“Is that why you—” Naruto hesitated, brows furrowing. “Why you’ve been… like this?”

Sasuke didn’t answer. He didn’t even know how to answer.

Naruto sighed, rubbing his face. “Okay. Fine. Whatever. But you—you can’t just keep going like this, dumbass.” He huffed, leaning back. “You need to—I don’t know. Eat more. Sleep more. Stop scaring the shit out of me.”

Sasuke let out a breath of a laugh, but there was no real humor in it. “I’ll try.”

Naruto frowned. “That’s not good enough.”

Sasuke didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what else Naruto wanted from him.

Naruto was quiet for a long moment, just watching him. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed together, like he was debating something. Then, finally, he spoke.

“…Do you have an eating disorder?”

Sasuke’s breath caught in his throat.

He blinked. Once. Twice. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, his body still. His heart was hammering, but on the outside, he knew he probably just looked bored, maybe mildly annoyed.

“No,” he said flatly.

Naruto narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? You sure?”

Sasuke exhaled, shifting his weight slightly. “Yes.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not technically. It wasn’t like he’d been diagnosed or anything. It wasn’t like he was sick. He was choosing to do this to himself.

Naruto didn’t look convinced. “You barely eat.”

“I eat.”

“Not enough.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t have an eating disorder, Naruto.”

Naruto’s frown deepened. “Then why the hell are you—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. He looked frustrated. But also, maybe, a little desperate. “You passed out, Sasuke. You—” He exhaled sharply. “Something is wrong.”

Sasuke stayed silent.

Naruto let out a rough sigh, gripping his own knees. “You’re lying to me,” he muttered.

Sasuke stiffened.

“I’m not,” he said, voice steady.

Naruto’s gaze met his, piercing and too damn knowing. Sasuke hated it. Hated how Naruto could see through him like this.

“…Fine,” Naruto said finally, jaw tightening. “Whatever. You don’t have an eating disorder. Sure.”

Sasuke swallowed, but didn’t respond.

Because what the hell was he supposed to say to that?