Doubt persists even when one tries to suppress it, so the only thing a human being can do is keep moving forward with it.
Being afraid is, in any case, an advantage. It allows you to do things you otherwise never could. Lacking it, on the other hand, felt more like a disadvantage than an asset.
Even so, the raven-haired girl couldn't bring herself to knock on the wooden door in front of her. She tried several times, but the sound of her fist hitting the surface never came.
She frowned slightly as she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her—one she had done nothing to deserve.
She didn't understand why she was standing there, hesitating, when at any other time she would have walked right in as if it were her own home.
Which, in a way, it was. It was where she was staying. She glanced to the side and saw the mailbox plate bearing the name 'Uzumaki,' eaten away by rust.
Someday, she would replace that mailbox with a new one, Sarada promised herself.
Frustrated, she grabbed her hair with her hand and squeezed hard enough to cause a dull ache.
She didn't know what to do. How to support someone whose most beloved master had died.
*'Come on, Sarada, you've been through worse than this. You just need to knock, go in, and give him a hug... and maybe even...'*
Her imagination led her down darker thoughts, a path she shouldn't be walking.
*'What are you thinking? Focus.'*
She took a breath and, finally, found the strength to open the door.
Stepping inside with caution and obvious nervousness, she quickly scanned the house.
She didn't sense anyone.
Had he gone somewhere? But where could a depressed teenager have gone?
She headed toward the kitchen and found a bowl of instant ramen untouched, already cold from the passage of time.
*'Not even a bite?'* Sarada thought as she scanned the room, searching for any hint of the boy's whereabouts.
Where could he have gone? He must have moved fast for a depressed teenager.
She would wait for him to return.
Going out to look for him would be difficult, as she had no idea where to start; besides, she was just returning from a mission that had taken several days to complete. She was exhausted, even if she didn't want to admit it.
Once she took the groceries out of the plastic bag and put them in the fridge, she moved toward the house's only bedroom.
It was a room they both shared out of necessity and, truth be told, one that made her heart race every night just by the sheer fact of having him near. Though she would never say it out loud.
He never had bad intentions toward her; not once did he try to cross the line while they were in bed. It was something Sarada was grateful for, but it also frustrated her.
She shook her head, pushing away any obscene images that threatened to form in her mind.
Her high-heeled sandals were left stranded by the side of the bed as she took them off. Her outfit, on more than one occasion, had caused her discomfort due to the stares she received.
With that in mind, she settled into bed. It was already night, which made her concern grow significantly.
Eventually, sleep won the battle, and the stillness of the night passed quickly until the halfway point.
Midnight.
Her senses sharpened instantly when she heard the jingle of keys trying to open the front door.
She sat up quickly, and upon reaching the door, obsidian eyes met confused jade eyes.
"Sarada-san? What are you doing in Naruto's apartment?" Her mother's voice made her tense up immediately. "Sarada-san…"
The Haruno spoke with gravity, clearly demanding an explanation.
What was she supposed to say? *"Hey, look, I've been living with him for a while"*? No. That would only lead to trouble and, knowing her mother's temper, she'd start throwing punches at the very least...
Still, she wasn't the type to back down from a challenge. She crossed her arms over her chest and confronted her.
"And what about you, Sakura-san? As far as I'm concerned, you and Naruto are just friends." Her dark eyes narrowed behind her glasses.
Sakura recoiled slightly, confirming Sarada's suspicions almost instantly.
"I assume you've already heard what happened..." The pink-haired woman regained her composure. "Jiraiya-sama fell at the hands of the Akatsuki leader."
The Uchiha looked at the floor, letting out a soft hum of affirmation. She already knew. It had been a heavy blow for everyone who held him dear.
"He's not okay. We all want to stop him from doing something impulsive that he might regret later. He can be reckless, but..." Sakura looked away, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds. "He's the best friend I have. That's why I'm here," she finished with a smile.
Sarada didn't detect any lies in that little speech and accepted it, though she knew, somehow, that it wasn't the whole truth.
She would find out in due time.
"Still..." The dark-haired girl's hand gripped the doorframe tighter; her nervousness resurfaced. "You still haven't explained what *you* are doing at Naruto's house." This time, it was Sarada who started counting the planks on the ceiling.
The green-eyed woman waited expectantly, her face showing an unusual sense of calm.
Would a lie be enough?
Sarada's brain began working as fast as possible. It shifted into overdrive when she noticed Sakura's fist clenching tightly. If she didn't answer, things would get ugly very quickly.
Digging deep within herself, she found a skill every shinobi should have in their repertoire: acting.
"My apartment is under renovation, and since I didn't have anywhere else to stay, Naruto offered me a temporary place." She saw Sakura raise an eyebrow and quickly added, "I was too embarrassed to ask anyone else for a room. And you know how Naruto is—he kept insisting, and I finally just gave in."
Everything depended on whether the Haruno bought her story. It was a cheap excuse, but it was the first one she could think of; if she had hesitated any longer, Sakura would have become even more suspicious than she already was.
"I see." The young girl with glasses was caught off guard by her mother's friendly smile. "It wouldn't be Naruto if he didn't lend a hand to someone in need." If Sarada hadn't been there, Sakura would have stayed until Naruto arrived, but since she was…
"Y-yeah."
An awkward, nervous laugh escaped her. "What do you have there?" Changing the subject, the Uchiha pointed to the bags the pink-haired woman was carrying.
As if barely noticing the weight of the nearly full bags, Sakura lifted them up.
"Here." She held them out to Sarada. "I don't like the idea of him eating nothing but ramen, so I was planning to fix some dinner." A small, warm smile touched her lips, causing the girl with glasses to arch an eyebrow.
Her mother held the Seventh in much higher regard in her youth than she had ever let on.
It made sense. A mother would never tell her daughter about the affection she felt for a man other than her father.
"I'll be heading home, then." Once Sarada took the bags, Sakura turned around, adding, "Don't tell Naruto I stopped by."
She walked away down the dark hallway. Watching her go, the Uchiha's smile vanished, her lips curving downward.
The dark-eyed girl simply watched her disappear at the foot of the entrance.
Her gaze shifted to the bags in her hands as she walked toward the kitchen. One contained actual cooking ingredients; the other held popcorn, sodas, and some other sweets.
She felt like she had ruined her mother's plans to cheer him up. She thought about it as she began to put everything away in its place.
It wasn't until two in the morning that something suddenly *clicked* in her head.
Why did Mom have the keys to the Seventh's apartment?
Before her mind could drag her down a rabbit hole of speculation, the front door opened again.
Already knowing who it was, she looked at herself in the mirror and gave a small nod. She hurried out of the bathroom, reaching the door just as he was stepping inside.
The concern in his guest's eyes made the blonde realize just how late it was.
Neither of them said a word.
Naruto locked the door and walked past Sarada without a single word or an explanation. Not that the Uchiha was demanding one, anyway.
She was still in her sleepwear: a blue shirt and pants. She hadn't seen him in over a week, not since she had left on a reconnaissance mission.
This wasn't the usual Naruto. The dark circles under his eyes and his hollow expression gave him away. The bright, lively blonde she knew stood in stark contrast to the person before her now, just as he did whenever he was around her or any of his friends.
Following him into the bedroom they shared, she paused at the doorway, watching as Naruto sat on the edge of the bed.
He kept his gaze fixed on his feet. *He's really going through it,* she thought. She understood that feeling—understood it perfectly. But she had no experience dealing with someone else who was going through the same thing.
The bed dipped slightly as the girl's weight joined his when she positioned herself behind him.
She fidgeted with her fingers out of nervousness. Taking a deep breath, she restlessly scanned the room, as if making sure they were truly alone.
When she looked at the back of Naruto's neck again, she pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his chest.
It was a bit clumsy, born from the nervousness eating away at her in that moment, but that didn't stop the gesture from being one of the warmest Naruto had ever received in his entire life.
"It's okay, alright?" Her arms were trembling; he noticed. "Uh… sorry, I'm just not very good at… well, all of this."
She gave him a few gentle pats on the head while her blushing cheek rested against the back of his neck. Fortunately—or unfortunately—he couldn't see her face.
The Uzumaki chuckled softly and offered a brief but sincere:
"Thank you."
He said nothing more.
They both stayed like that as the night moved on in silence, until exhaustion finally got the better of them.