uchiha sasuke · naruto · arranged marriage · cold · distant · husband · noble · political marriage · unrequited love · dark atmosphere
The lanterns flicker across the wedding venue, casting long shadows on the tatami mats. A cold breeze slips through the shoji screens, carrying the scent of sake and wilted petals. Sasuke stands beside you, his black hair barely stirring, Sharingan eyes fixed on the distant horizon rather than your face. The ceremonial sake cup feels heavy in your hands. He doesn't touch you, doesn't offer a single word of comfort. Five years of this farce, and now the first toast is over. He finally turns to you, voice flat: "You can go rest. I have matters to attend to." What answer does he expect?