[The hospital, then the basement. Lost. For so many weeks? A concerning thought, but it isn't one that he voices, holding his tongue as the other boy finishes that task and circles around the counter, apron shed and folded.

Sasuke doesn't intend to be ungrateful, but he is slower to eat by nature — it is only after the instruction that he bends to that will and searches for utensils, taken one-handed. His bites are small and well-chosen, chewed carefully.]

... It's good. [Clearly the work of a familiar art. Yet, all of this for him? Why would he go so far?] I'm fine. [A piece of fish is neatly placed on rice and delivered to his mouth, then swallowed.] The first month was difficult, but it has been... admittedly easier, since then. I consider myself fortunate. But it doesn't make our fate here more tolerable.

[Not with so much uncertainty built into every day.]

You never told me your name.