It said enough about his physical and mental state that he would allow such an embarrassing display. No matter how much he trusted Iruka, or how much he had seen during his childhood, this wouldn’t have been something he wouldn’t have allowed if he were in his right mind. But as things were–he wouldn’t be complaining about it any time soon. There were few people allowed in his room, and Iruka was one of the few he hadn’t yet reacted poorly to (it gave his brother a chance to leave, and shower, and sleep, and maybe cease his incessant worrying for a scant few hours).
Iruka’s idle chatter gave Sasuke something to focus on other than the pain in his limbs, or the violent whispering in his head. He even put forth the effort to respond, when he could–when speaking wasn’t too difficult (sometimes he’d try to say something, and he would have to stop mid-way. he didn’t try to gauge the Chuunin’s reaction to that). He wasn’t certain who had told Iruka what his favorite food was, or why he’d felt the need to cook it for him, but maybe it was his way of assisting. Sasuke couldn’t bare to see either of his parents, so it was safe to say, they hadn’t come after that first visit.
He wanted to say he appreciated this, and that he was sorry it had to be done at all, but the words wouldn’t come. Sasuke, instead, shook his head when Iruka offered another bite.
Of the people who came to visit Sasuke, most had needed to be turned away. By the time Iruka came by for the first time, Itachi was far from optimistic. The look of relief on the man’s face when Sasuke did not react poorly to him is what keeps bringing Iruka back to the hospital.
By now, Itachi was showing more wear and strain than usual. The long hours by Sasuke’s side left dark circles under his eyes and a slow decline in his personal hygiene. Iruka offered to stay with Sasuke for a while, to let Itachi get some rest.
It took a little convincing, but the man gave in after Iruka showed him the food he had brought. The teacher only vaguely remembered a mention of Sasuke’s favorite meal. It is an odd talent of his, to remember a few of the obscure facts he learned about his students over the years. Itachi’s faint smile told him he had remembered right.
Sasuke seemed to be doing better. He was more responsive than the first time Iruka came to visit, willing to eat and even talk when he can. Iruka kept him company with the antics his students got up to and tales of the many conditions in which people had tried to turn in mission reports.
“I know you don’t want to,” he spoke with the kind of empathy that only comes from experience, “but you would feel better if you took your medication. Maybe when your brother gets back so you feel a little safer?” This is the only time he would mention it but he felt obligated to do so at least once. At the shake of Sasuke’s head, Iruka nodded, wheeling the tray to the side.
