[A histrionic groan meets the flat, uncompromising refusal. Naruto rolls his head back along his shoulders in a practiced study of drama, even as he continues to steadily eat up the dwindling distance between them. When at last he finally halts, the jinchūriki is well within Sasuke’s personal space—enough so that when he leans forward, smirking, they’re sharing recycled air. With one clawed finger, he prods the brunet in the chest, an action meant to seem provocative in nature…until he crooks that finger and delicately flicks off a clump of dirt.]

Eh? Who’s worked up?

[There’s a coy twist to the smirk, one that deepens a moment later; Naruto slides into place on Sasuke’s left, bumping shoulders with a playful air.]

You’re right though… It wouldn’t be satisfying trouncing you like this. [And there it is, lurking in the timber of his hoarse voice, the dark sanguine depths of his eyes—anger.] Never should’ve let them take you away. All for what? Their pathetic sense of justice.

[But then that anger bleeds away; Naruto focuses on Sasuke again, a sunny smile brightening his face.]

If you won’t fight, wanna race? [Sasuke isn’t given an opportunity to say no. The blond darts in, knocking their foreheads together in a kind of companionable acknowledgement before he’s pulling away—charging through the skeleton of the chapel. His laughter echoes in his wake.] Last one in has’ta—

[The rest of the declaration is unintelligible; Naruto has jumped directly into the well.]