The hospital room was quiet.
Naruto and Sakura sat on the bed, fingers loosely intertwined. Neither spoke for a long moment—words felt fragile after everything that had finally been said.
Naruto broke the silence first. "You don't have to stay."
Sakura raised an eyebrow. "I want to."
His thumb brushed over her knuckles. "Good."
She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. For the first time, there was no fear of crossing a line—because the line was already gone.
"I kept telling myself I was protecting my heart," Sakura whispered. "But I was really just running."
Naruto kissed the top of her head. "We both were."
That night, Sakura didn't leave.
They lay together beneath the thin hospital sheets, bodies close, breaths slow and synchronized. No urgency. No desperation. Just warmth, safety, and the quiet certainty that neither was alone anymore.
Outside, dawn crept over Konoha.
And nothing would ever be the same.