She didn't love him.
Well, she did.
She loved what he used to be, and she might love him again, now that he was changing back. She could forgive him, eventually, but she couldn't—wouldn't—love him right now.
He'd nearly killed her. She felt his chakra then, felt the coldness, the hatred, the sheer not-him in it, and couldn't manage to reconcile it with the boy she'd worked with for so long, known for so long, loved for so long.
And yet the fact that he was dying, that he was so close to leaving her forever, was breaking her heart. Every step she took brought her closer to him, but with every step, she also felt the growing futility of the action.
Her life had revolved around him for so long, and while she knew that she could live without him, she…
Anger coursed through her, anger and fear and she knew how to bring out those golden chains that had defined her clan, a clan that she hadn't known about, a clan that she would not have known about if it weren't for Orochimaru, a clan that was almost dead.
But she had that power, had the ability to get past and—
Don't you dare die on me, Sasuke.