heritage

Chapter Twenty-One: Culminate

 "Take it as you will."

          After a long moment of silence, Sakura sits down next to him. She carefully guides his lulling head to rest on her shoulder. Surprisingly enough, he lets her. Or perhaps it is not so surprising at all, she thinks when her inquisitive poke to his chakra is only given a weak pulse in return. He's exhausted. She is too, she realises quickly. Her body is suddenly weighed down by some invisible force. Her arm muscles flex, but her intended movement is feeble. Slow. Her eyelids shutter. She takes a deep breath, sighing softly.

He's warm, Sakura notes, duly. Her lashes flutter, her eyes opening just a crack. She hadn't realised that she had closed them. And although it feels like no time has passed at all, she knows that can't be true. Her heartbeat has steadied. And another poke at Obito tells her he has a bit more energy than before. It has to at least have been a couple of minutes. Maybe half an hour? She's tempted to shake her head, but she doesn't have the energy to. It doesn't matter.

Time continues to pass in jumps and starts. Sakura cannot truly tell how long it has been, but even with the spikes and lulls of consciousness, her thoughts keep pace well enough.

She wonders what he saw to make him this way. What his own test was like. Did it hurt as much as hers? She can't help but think. What decision did he have to make, if he has already made it? What is it that he must decide, if he hasn't?

Because that has to be why he's here, right? In this space, where the next beginning is being written? His body slumped in defeat—so robbed of energy and so drained of emotion that he can't even muster a word? It has to be. It isn't as if nothing happened—clearly, he has gone through something. Some sort of test, if not the one Sakura just completed herself. And when it ended Motoyo saw it fit to leave him here. With Sakura.

Or perhaps it is the reverse? That it is instead Sakura who is kept here and forced to face him. To test if she will honor her decision in the presence of the one it was about. And yet such a theory doesn't feel quite right. It tugs at her, the thought that there is something else. Some other, better, reason for the two of them to be forced together like this. Is it an accident?

Or, Sakura dares to hope, is she being given the gift of bringing him home?

It is her last solid thought for some time. Her mind drifts, though the idea clings to her in the brief moments that the exhaustion wanes.

Such moments are few. They come and go like a rolling fog. Many of the lighter thoughts leave. Some make her smile, but then the fatigue comes back and fuzzes her mind. It annoys her a little. Not to the point of anger, but perhaps that is the weariness talking. Still. The moments recur, and that is enough for now.

Aside from her thoughts, her awareness of Obito comes and goes as well. She isn't worried. Not anymore than is reasonable, really. He is as faint-limbed as she, and, even were he of the mind to, cannot hurt her here.

In the beginning, he does not bother to move his head from her shoulder. It is an awkward position, given that Sakura's current height at thirteen is likely a good two feet—or more—shorter than him. But he stays there for awhile, the press of his cheek against her shoulder a bit heavy.

At some point, however, Sakura comes back to herself with their positions reversed; Obito sitting up and her head pressed against his upper arm. Sometimes she can feel his fingers carding through her hair. Other times, his hand gently clasps hers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the top. He's warm. She thinks again, the observation dripping out of her fingers like molasses. The comfort he gives reminds her so much of Kakashi-sensei that her chest aches.