Dinner had been silent for enough days that Sasuke questioned occasionally whether his roommate was actually still around or not -- for all that the boy had expressed confidence when they'd first met, confidence was as poor a predictor of lasting in the Institute as was competence. Whatever metric was used was one that Sasuke had not yet grasped, however clear the structure of its measure had become over the past few days. He listened carefully as the soldiers shut the door behind them for the end of the day, one of the few remnants of the farce.

There was a presence and movement at the other side of the room, but no speaking. He had been too caught in his own thoughts over the past days: the seemingly endless frustrations and the tease of being close enough to an age-old goal that he could sense it across his fingers. The length of time it took to accomplish something and the weight of reliance on others -- one of these was familiar and the other no longer so.

Not as obviously as this, anyway, speaking to Sai on the bus and hearing Sakura's voice calling to him over the crunch of snow, brief exchange of information and times with the cold biting at their skin.

Whatever the case -- someone else was in the room. Whether it was the same roommate as before was something Sasuke had not observed closely enough to be certain just by listening, but he made no bid for conversation before starting on dinner. Tonight was not a night to be concerned for anything but time.