It slipped out before he'd thought it through -- "Are there many missions like these?"

The rest sounded through a weird haze, Sasuke trying to imagine Naruto or Hinata in a situation like this -- Hinata, quiet sure hands stained with innocent blood; Naruto, bright and broken under the weight of cold-blooded murder -- he'd seen a genjutsu not unlike it, not too long ago, in the very worst of his fears pulled to the surface. If there were other missions (and if he thought about it, the look on Obito's face when he'd realised what had happened, of course there were, of course there were), and if there were many --

And if there were many shinobi leaving the village gates with Konoha bright in the mind's eye and returning with nothing more than blood seeping into skin -- "I can't," he tried, and couldn't phrase it well: "I don't want them to have to -- I don't want this to happen to them."