[Yes, he sees your dig at him, and yes, he's going to ignore it. If he weren't so stressed out being in his former teammate's body, he might even have rolled his eyes. Jonas is more right than he knows; his conversations with Sakura have so far been professionally, impersonally truncated.
Sasuke whips away, blessed by tense silence that he carries all the way down the road and around the corner to Sakura's clinic — dark and poorly lit at this hour, its canvas walls stand an eerie paleness in the night. He ducks beneath one, but his mind has already settled on disappointment. There's no one inside. He knew upon immediate approach; he hadn't felt the oppressive, cold, smothering immensity of his own chakra signature, surreal and disorienting from outside perspective. There was nothing.
He stands a few moments longer in the dark, then ducks back out and begins to pace a circuit on the deserted street, waiting for Jonas' return. The movement is entirely driven by anxiety — even he does not have the self-control to stop himself, to breathe, to rally composure. The thoughts are turning in his mind, too quick, lodged around fear: Where is she? What happened? She should have returned and found him by now. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫.
Paranoia creeps in, webbed around that same fear. Does he even trust Jonas to help? He said himself that he isn't close to Sakura. Can he help, or if this all a ruse of entertainment? Or perhaps, more sinister, Jonas is wasting his time for a reason. The other boy may not return from the market; how much longer should Sasuke wait?
Sasuke will just continue spiraling until he's interrupted.]
no subject
Sasuke whips away, blessed by tense silence that he carries all the way down the road and around the corner to Sakura's clinic — dark and poorly lit at this hour, its canvas walls stand an eerie paleness in the night. He ducks beneath one, but his mind has already settled on disappointment. There's no one inside. He knew upon immediate approach; he hadn't felt the oppressive, cold, smothering immensity of his own chakra signature, surreal and disorienting from outside perspective. There was nothing.
He stands a few moments longer in the dark, then ducks back out and begins to pace a circuit on the deserted street, waiting for Jonas' return. The movement is entirely driven by anxiety — even he does not have the self-control to stop himself, to breathe, to rally composure. The thoughts are turning in his mind, too quick, lodged around fear: Where is she? What happened? She should have returned and found him by now. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫.
Paranoia creeps in, webbed around that same fear. Does he even trust Jonas to help? He said himself that he isn't close to Sakura. Can he help, or if this all a ruse of entertainment? Or perhaps, more sinister, Jonas is wasting his time for a reason. The other boy may not return from the market; how much longer should Sasuke wait?
Sasuke will just continue spiraling until he's interrupted.]