undone

Naruto had never been good at dealing with this kind of stuff.

Sasuke wasn’t normal lately. And yeah, sure, Sasuke was never really normal, but this was different. This was worse.

He was hardly eating at all, he looked like he was running on maybe an hour of sleep a night. And now, all of a sudden, he couldn’t even stand to be touched? That part stung more than Naruto wanted to admit. Sasuke had always acted like Naruto’s touch was annoying, but he had never avoided it. Not like this. Not like he thought Naruto’s hands would taint him or something.

So yeah, Naruto had told him he was gonna go study, and that wasn’t a lie. But the truth was, he wasn’t going for the fucking schoolwork.

He needed help.

The library was dim and quiet when he stepped in, the scent of old books and stale coffee lingering in the air. His friends were already settled in their usual corner, textbooks and notebooks spread across the table in what was probably a very half-hearted attempt at actual studying.

Shikamaru was leaned back in his chair, half-asleep, while Sakura and Ino were bickering over something written in one of their notebooks.

Naruto pulled up a chair and dropped into it with a sigh, rubbing a hand down his face.

Sakura glanced up at him, her expression already tinged with suspicion. “If you’re here to copy my notes again—”

“I’m not.”

That caught their attention.

Naruto never voluntarily showed up to study.

Shikamaru cracked an eye open. “Huh. That’s new.”

Ino smirked, propping her chin on her hand. “Don’t tell me you actually care about your grades now.”

Naruto shot her a flat look. “I care about my grades.”

“You barely care about your grades,” Sakura corrected, crossing her arms. Then her eyes narrowed slightly. “Okay, seriously. Why are you here?”

Naruto exhaled, glancing down at his hands. His fingers curled against the table, hesitating.

“…It’s about Sasuke.”

There was a brief pause, and then—

“Oh my God,” Ino drawled, grinning. “Finally.”

Sakura groaned, rubbing her temples. “Took you long enough.”

Naruto blinked. “Wait, what—”

“You’ve been obsessed with him since day one,” Ino said.

Shikamaru hummed in agreement. “It has been painfully obvious.”

Naruto’s face burned. “That’s not—I mean, yeah, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Mm-hm,” Ino said, clearly not convinced.

Naruto huffed. “I’m serious.”

Sakura frowned, her teasing demeanor shifting slightly. “…Okay. What’s going on?”

Naruto hesitated again. He didn’t even know how to explain it.

How the hell was he supposed to tell them that he thought Sasuke had an eating disorder?

The words felt too big—too real—like saying them out loud would confirm them, would make them something Naruto couldn’t brush off as paranoia anymore.

Naruto stared down at the table, hands clenched into fists against the worn wood. His mouth was dry, and his stomach twisted in that awful, uneasy way that only ever happened when he was about to say something he really didn’t want to say.

But he had to.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, bracing himself. “…I think he has an eating disorder.”

Silence.

Sakura, Ino, and Shikamaru all looked at him, and for a moment, none of them reacted.

Then Ino blinked, tilting her head. "Sasuke?" She let out a short, uncertain laugh. "Are we talking about the same Sasuke?"

Naruto clenched his jaw. "Yeah."

Ino looked over at Sakura, as if expecting her to jump in, but Sakura was quiet, brows drawn together slightly.

Shikamaru sighed, rubbing his temple. "That’s kind of a big claim, y’know."

"I know," Naruto said quickly. "I know how it sounds, but just—just listen, okay?"

Ino crossed her arms. "It’s just, like—come on, it’s Sasuke. He’s… I don’t know. He’s not exactly the type."

Naruto shot her a sharp look. "The type?"

She held up her hands in defense. "I just mean—he doesn’t seem like someone who’d have that kind of problem. He’s always been like that, hasn’t he?" She gestured vaguely. “Quiet, broody, barely eats, barely sleeps—just kind of an asshole by default.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s normal,” he muttered.

Ino crossed her arms, still looking unconvinced. “I just mean, he’s always been like this. It’s not new.”

Naruto exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. I get why you guys wouldn’t think that, okay? I mean, I didn’t want to believe it either, but I’ve been living with him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him eat an actual meal."

He took a steadying breath. "He barely eats, and when he does, he goes straight to the bathroom. Every single time. And I think… I think he’s making himself throw up."

That got their attention.

Sakura’s expression darkened, and Ino suddenly looked a lot less doubtful.

Shikamaru raised a brow. "You sure?"

Naruto shot him an irritated look. "No, Shikamaru, I just love making up weirdly specific lies about my best friend for no reason."

Shikamaru sighed. "I’m just saying—it’s a serious thing to accuse someone of."

Naruto’s fingers curled into fists. "I know that," he said, quieter this time. "But I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t sure."

Ino looked troubled now, her fingers tapping against her arm. "I mean… okay, I’ll admit, I’ve never actually seen him eat that much, but I always figured he was just one of those people who naturally didn’t eat a lot."

Naruto shook his head. "It’s not that, I just know it." He exhaled sharply. "He eats like it physically pains him to do so."

Sakura’s frown deepened.

Naruto turned to her. "You’re the only one who actually went to school with him before college. Was he always like this?"

Sakura hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I didn’t know him back then though, not really."

Ino pressed her lips together. "I guess I just… never really thought about it. Sasuke’s always seemed so—" She gestured vaguely. "You know. Untouchable. Perfect."

Naruto’s hands tightened around the edge of the table.

That was the problem.

No one ever thought anything was wrong with Sasuke because they all had this idea of him—this image of someone who was too perfect for anything to really hurt him.

Naruto clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
"He’s making himself sick, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do."

Sakura sighed, watching Naruto as he stared down at the table, jaw tight, fists clenched against his knees like he was bracing for something. His usual energy—the loud, unshakable confidence—was nowhere to be found. Instead, he just looked tired.

She softened a little, shifting in her seat. “Naruto,” she started, voice quieter now, “I know this is frustrating. And I know it’s scary.”

He didn’t say anything, but his shoulders twitched, just slightly. She took that as a sign to keep going.

She sighed, “You have to know this by now—Sasuke doesn’t let people in.”

Naruto scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“I mean it,” she pressed, her gaze steady. “You’re probably the only person he actually considers a friend.”

That made him pause. His brows furrowed, his mouth pressing into a thin line.

She continued, her tone careful. “Think about it. Has he ever been close to anyone else? Has he ever let anyone stick around like you?”

Naruto swallowed hard, staring at the table. He’d never really thought about it that way before.

Sakura shook her head. “I know he’s a pain in the ass, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He’s just—he’s spent so long keeping people out that he probably doesn’t even know how to ask for help.”

Naruto exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, it’d be a hell of a lot easier if he tried for once.”

“I know,” she said gently. “But if he’s not going to, that means it’s up to you.”

Naruto huffed, crossing his arms. “Great. No pressure or anything.”

Sakura gave him a small smile. “You’re already doing more than anyone else ever has.”

Naruto let out a slow breath, some of the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

Because if he was the only person Sasuke had—

Sakura smiled slightly. “He cares about you. In his own way.”

Naruto felt his throat go dry.

He didn’t know what to say to that.

Because deep down, he knew Sasuke cared. Maybe not in the way other people did, maybe not in a way that was always obvious. But there was a reason Sasuke let him get close, a reason he let Naruto into his space when he pushed everyone else away.

And it only made this worse.

Because if Sasuke cared about him, then why the fuck wouldn’t he let him help?

—

Sasuke sat on the floor of their dorm’s tiny kitchen, back pressed against the fridge, breathing hard. His stomach hurt—full to the point of nausea, stretched tight in a way that made his skin crawl. The empty containers and wrappers were scattered around him, a pathetic display of everything he’d just shoved down his throat in a haze.

He swallowed thickly, already knowing what came next.

He forced himself up, legs unsteady as he staggered toward the bathroom. He barely flicked the light on before sinking to his knees, his body already going through the motions before his mind could catch up. Two fingers down his throat. A few deep, practiced heaves. Repeat, repeat, repeat, until everything was out.

Sasuke clenched his eyes shut as his throat burned, his stomach convulsing as it emptied itself out. He braced his free hand against the toilet seat, trying not to think about how disgusting this was, how pathetic it was that this was just normal for him.

Again. And again. And again.

By the time he was done, he was shaking. His mouth tasted like acid and failure. His entire body felt weak, wrung out, useless. He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, ignoring how clammy his skin felt.

This was fine.

It was fine.

He was fine.

His chest was heaving as he sat back on his heels, the nausea still there, even though there was nothing left to get rid of. He was lightheaded, dizzy. His vision swam for a moment, and he pressed his forehead to the cool seat of the toilet, breathing in slow, measured inhales.

He felt so fucking gross.

He didn’t know how much time passed before he finally dragged himself up to rinse his mouth out. He gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles going white as he stared at himself in the mirror.

Sasuke barely made it out of the bathroom before he was reaching for more food. His hands were shaking as he ripped open another package of something he wasn’t even registering—cookies, chips, some convenience store bento he’d bought earlier just for this. He doesn’t even fuckng like any of this shit. It didn’t matter. He barely chewed, barely tasted it. Just shoved it down as fast as he could, his stomach already hurt, but he couldn’t stop.

His body was screaming at him to stop, to just breathe, to let himself sit with it for once, but that wasn’t an option.

Fuck. Fuck.

He shoved the last bite into his mouth, his throat constricting around it, and he barely got it down before he was stumbling back toward the bathroom. His knees hit the tile hard, but he didn’t care. Didn’t even fucking feel it.

His fingers were down his throat before he could think, before he could even breathe, and the relief was instant. His stomach clenched, his body violently rejecting everything he’d just crammed inside of it, and he gasped between heaves, barely able to get enough air.

Again.

And again.

And again.

His entire body was shaking by the time he was done. His head was spinning, his throat burned, and his stomach ached in a way that made him feel like he could fucking die right there on the bathroom floor.

And the worst part?

It still wasn’t enough.

His breath hitched, and before he could stop himself, he let out a quiet, broken sound. His hand curled weakly over his stomach, the other still gripping the toilet seat, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His chest heaved. His entire body trembled.

He hated this.

He hated himself.

And yet, as soon as he washed his hands and rinsed out his mouth again—

He found himself heading back to the fucking kitchen.

Because he wasn’t done.

Because he’d never be done.

Because he couldn’t stop.

And for the first time in years of this fucking cycle, he felt dangerously close to crying.

How had he let it get this bad again?

He was so sucked in he didn’t hear the door open. Didn’t hear the soft creak of the hinges, didn’t hear the sound of Naruto stepping inside, kicking his shoes off with the usual careless thud.

Didn’t notice a thing.

—

Naruto had barely shut the door behind him before something felt off.

It wasn’t obvious at first. The lights were on, the air smelled vaguely like something sweet—maybe chocolate?—but there was no sign of Sasuke. Not in the living room, not sprawled out on the couch with a book, not at the kitchen table pretending to study while zoning the hell out. But there was a mess of wrappers and junk strewn about. Did Sasuke eat all of that?

Naruto’s stomach sank.

He figured Sasuke would be in his room, maybe sitting on his bed with his laptop or reading one of his stupid pretentious books, ignoring him like usual. But the second he stepped inside, something in his gut twisted.

“Sasuke?” he called, frowning as he kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag by the couch.

No response.

His frown deepened.

He glanced toward Sasuke’s room. The door was open, but from where he stood, he could tell the bed was empty. The weird feeling in his gut sharpened.

Something was wrong.

Naruto started moving before he could think about it, heading down the hallway.

“Sasuke?” His voice was louder this time, more forceful. He stopped in front of his bedroom door, realizing the bathroom light was on.

Naruto hesitated.

His breath caught, and then, without giving himself time to second-guess, he walked in and pushed the bathroom door open.

And froze.

Sasuke had always been composed. Always so put together, always carrying himself with that same bored, effortless grace. But here he was—

Bent over the toilet, gasping between choked-up mouthfuls, his entire body trembling from the strain. His damp hair clung to the sides of his face, his face was flushed, tears streaming down.

Naruto’s chest ached.

He wanted to say something. Wanted to reach for him, shake him, demand to know why the fuck he was doing this to himself—

But then Sasuke turned, noticing him.

For a second, he just stared, blankly, his breath hitching as their eyes met. His expression was unreadable, but his face was pale, dark eyes rimmed with exhaustion. He blinked at Naruto slowly, dully, like he was seeing straight through him.

Naruto waited for him to react—something. A flinch, a glare, an excuse, maybe even anger.

But Sasuke just exhaled softly, and in the most lifeless voice Naruto had ever heard from him, he said,

“Just go, Naruto.”

Naruto’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Sasuke swallowed thickly, like even speaking was exhausting, and turned his gaze back to the toilet. He didn’t look embarrassed. Didn’t look ashamed. Didn’t even look at him again as he hoarsely added,

“Just let me finish.”

And then, as if Naruto wasn’t even there—

He shoved his fingers back into his throat.

Naruto wanted to stop him. His body screamed at him to lunge forward, to grab Sasuke’s wrist and yank him away from the toilet, to make him stop—

But he couldn’t move.

His legs felt like lead, his arms locked stiff at his sides, his breath stuck somewhere between his chest and throat. His mind was screaming, his pulse pounding against his temples, but his body—his body wouldn’t listen.

Because this was real. This wasn’t just suspicion, wasn’t just paranoia—

Sasuke was actually doing this to himself. Right in front of him.

Naruto had spent so much time questioning, trying to piece together every little thing, trying to figure out what was happening behind the scenes. But now, standing there, watching Sasuke shove his fingers down his throat again, gagging, choking—

It was too much.

The reality of it crashed down on him so hard he thought he might fucking break.

Sasuke’s whole body lurched forward with another violent heave. His breath hitched, tears stinging at the edges of his eyes as he forced up another mouthful.

It felt like hours before Sasuke finally slumped forward, then he just sat there, panting, trembling, chest heaving. His eyes were barely open, lashes clumped with tears.

And Naruto couldn’t just stand theremand do nothing.

He lurched forward, dropping to his knees, one hand hovering uselessly, just short of touching Sasuke’s shoulder.

“Jesus—Sasuke—what the fuck—” The words left Naruto’s mouth before he could stop them, his voice cracking halfway through. “Stop—just stop, okay? Please, you’re—just stop.”

Sasuke didn’t even flinch. He just stayed there, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. He looked so tired. Then Sasuke let out a soft, broken laugh, barely more than a breath.

“You’re so damn annoying,” Sasuke mumbled, voice slurred and raw. His eyes flickered, dull and glassy. “I told you to leave.”

Naruto barely had a second to react before Sasuke shoved him away. The force of it was more than he expected, considering how weak Sasuke looked, and he rocked back on his heels. Sasuke used the space he created to push himself up, his legs wobbling dangerously beneath him as he collapsed against the sink counter. His hands gripped the edges so tightly his knuckles turned white.

His breathing was unsteady, his shoulders trembling, but his voice—when he finally spoke—was sharp, raw, like he was trying to cut Naruto down with every word.

"You happy now?" Sasuke spat. His reflection in the mirror was a disaster—but despite how close he was to completely falling apart, he still managed to glare at Naruto like this was his fault. "You got what you wanted. Now you can go."

Naruto’s throat tightened. "Are you serious right now? You think I wanted to find you like this?"

Sasuke let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Of course you did. You’ve been hounding me for weeks. This is what you were looking for, wasn’t it? Proof? Well, congratulations. You fucking got it."

Naruto felt something in his chest twist violently. "That’s not—"

"Just drop it," Sasuke snapped. "It’s not a big deal. It’s nothing."

"Nothing?" Naruto’s stomach churned. "Are you kidding me?" He gestured wildly at the toilet, at Sasuke himself, at everything. "How the hell is this nothing?"

Sasuke exhaled sharply through his nose, rolling his eyes like Naruto was the one being unreasonable. "You’re overreacting."

"Overreacting?" Naruto’s voice rose, but he didn’t care. "You just spent God knows how long making yourself throw up and you can barely even stand, Sasuke! But yeah, sure, I’m the one overreacting."

Sasuke’s expression flickered, something cracking through the thin veil of indifference he was trying so hard to keep up. But then, just as quickly, his eyes hardened again.

"I don’t need you to stand here and lecture me," he said, voice low and warning, like he was trying to end this conversation before it even started. "Just drop it and leave."

Naruto stared at him, his hands clenched into fists. "No."

Sasuke’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly, his fingers twitching where they clutched the counter. His entire body was trembling now, though whether it was from exhaustion or something else, Naruto couldn’t tell.

"I never wanted you to see this," Sasuke said suddenly, quieter this time, his voice raw. The anger in his expression faltered, replaced with something else—something closer to humiliation. "Just—" He inhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You weren’t supposed to fucking find out."

Naruto felt his heart clench painfully. "Why?"

Sasuke let out a bitter laugh, tilting his head back slightly like he was trying to keep himself together, trying to shove down whatever he was feeling. "Because it’s pathetic, obviously."

Naruto flinched. "Sasuke—"

"Just fucking go," Sasuke said, voice cracking at the edges. His fingers dug into the counter like it was the only thing keeping him upright. "I don’t need you to look at me like that."

And that’s when Naruto realized—

Sasuke wasn’t angry at him.

He was angry at himself.

Naruto took a careful step forward. "Sasuke—"

"Don’t," Sasuke cut him off immediately. His voice wavered, but the warning was there. "I don’t—I don’t need you here, okay? Just pretend you never saw this. Just—" His breath hitched, his eyes flickering away. "Just let me have this."

Naruto’s chest tightened painfully. "Sasuke," he said again, softer this time, more pleading than anything else.

Sasuke clenched his jaw, his entire body trembling, but he still wouldn’t look at him. He just stood there, staring at the sink, his breaths coming quicker, more uneven. His eyes were glassy, dangerously close to spilling over—but he was holding it in. Trying so, so hard to hold it in.

But Naruto could see it.

He was breaking.

And god, Naruto didn’t know what to do.

He knew the last thing Sasuke wanted was to cry in front of him, but Naruto could see how fucking close he was. His entire body was trembling with the effort of keeping it together, and Naruto felt so damn helpless.

"You don’t have to do this anymore," Naruto said, his voice barely above a whisper now. "You don’t have to—"

"Shut up," Sasuke whispered back, his voice shaking, his fingers gripping the counter so hard Naruto thought they might snap. "Just shut the fuck up."

But his chest hitched.

And then, just like that—

His walls crumbled.

His body gave out, sliding down the counter, his head hanging low, shoulders shaking. A quiet, barely-there sob slipped out, like he was still trying to swallow it back down, but it was too late. The tears had already started to fall.

Naruto barely even thought before he was in front of him again, before his hands were gripping Sasuke’s arms, grounding him. "Hey, hey—"

"Don’t," Sasuke choked out, his hands pushing weakly at Naruto’s arms. "Don’t fucking—"

But he didn’t have the strength to push him away anymore.

He crumpled under his own weight, his forehead pressing against Naruto’s shoulder, his breath shuddering violently against Naruto’s skin.

And Naruto held him.

Sasuke wasn’t making any sound beyond the occasional sharp inhale, the quietest of sobs that he still tried to smother, like he couldn’t even let himself cry properly. But the way his fingers curled against Naruto’s shirt, the way his body shook, the way he let Naruto hold him—

Naruto just tightened his grip. "It’s okay," he murmured. "You’re okay."

And for once—

Sasuke didn’t tell him to shut up.

—

They sat there for what felt like forever.

Naruto didn’t move. He just held onto Sasuke, let him shake, let him breathe, let him take whatever he needed from him. The fabric of his shirt was clenched so tightly in Sasuke’s hands that Naruto was sure it would stretch and wrinkle beyond repair, but he didn’t care. He’d let Sasuke tear him to fucking shreds if it meant he’d just let himself lean on someone for once.

Sasuke’s breathing was still uneven, still sharp and shuddering, but he was slowly, slowly starting to come down. The violent trembling had dulled to something more subtle, his shoulders still jerking every few breaths, but it was better than before.

Naruto didn’t say anything. Didn’t rush him, didn’t push him. He just kept his grip steady, rubbing his thumb absently over Sasuke’s arm in slow, repetitive strokes.

It was terrifying how small Sasuke felt like this.

Naruto had never thought of him as small before—Sasuke was sharp, untouchable.

But right now, pressed against Naruto’s chest, his body limp and shaking—he just looked tired.

Naruto didn’t know how long they sat like that, Sasuke’s breaths eventually evening out, his body still tense but no longer on the verge of collapse.

Then, finally, in the quietest, rawest voice Naruto had ever heard from him—

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

Naruto’s grip on him tightened for just a second.

He swallowed, exhaling softly. “Because I care.”

Sasuke let out a quiet, humorless laugh, barely more than a breath.

“That’s stupid.”

Naruto shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

Sasuke didn’t argue. Didn’t say anything at all, actually.

He just sat there, fingers still curled against Naruto’s shirt, body still leaning into him despite everything.

And Naruto wasn’t about to let go.