The Sharingan was still spinning in his eyes, the comfort of its grey-tinted clarity serving to remind him of the difference between reality and illusion. The earliest training a Sharingan-user got was that difference, when vision could be trusted and when it could lie, but he'd willingly subsumed himself in the illusion -- he'd forgotten how quickly genjutsu could take hold of the senses.

And that one had done more. There was something about it that he couldn't put his finger on, mind still whirring through images and deconstructing them now with Sharingan-memory; the little things that had been wrong with the way Hinata had moved, the lack of focus in Naruto's expression.

The cruel disappointment in Itachi's voice.

Those things should have tipped him off in a regular genjutsu, but it had escalated so quickly, and something about it had used -- something more than his own entering reminder that he couldn't break the genjutsu --

But the single word from Sakura brought his head up with a jerk, the motion a full-body flinch. It was a question. Had she not --

"Did you see it?" He asked, voice hoarse.