When Sasuke woke, it was with a start. He could hear Naruto yelling, feel the searing heat of his fire vortex boiling the ice into hot water, the burning and throbbing and bone-deep ache of his arm. It was all so vivid, so real. There was something on top of him, holding him down. The panic began rising, his whole body tensing, and his eyes flew open. Instead of a dreary sky, hazy with fog, Sasuke saw a wooden ceiling, crisp and bright. It was then that the warm, soft futon registered in his mind. He was in a house. In Tazuna's house. The fight was over. There was no pain in his arm, no feeling at all. Sasuke glanced down, not knowing what to expect. Bright white bandages were wrapped around it, covering him from shoulder to fingertips, carefully tied at the ends. At least it was still attached, Sasuke had feared on the bridge it would have to come off.