Perhaps the smaller wildlife in the immediate vicinity of the house had been frightened away by the wingspan of the summons, but the lonely clearing was quiet enough that Sasuke was tense again when he slid off Kono-hana's back. Away from the need to control his body language and the distraction of his summons' sense of etiquette (none; she dispersed with a cursory bump of her head against his shoulder), the weight of what was actually happened pressed in with a terrible claustrophobia.

"This is it," he murmured to Obito, an entirely unnecessary aside; there was only one house in the space, the only lights left on the ones that Sasuke had barely kept it together to light to give the semblance of activity. The Sharingan spun into his eyes as he circled the house, looking for the window closest to the cellar trapdoor.