Naruto: The Seraph Project

Chapter 82: Between Two Worlds

TW: Eating Disorder

I wake up at around noon, shortly before I'm given another meal that I have to eat. As with the previous one, solid food finds it difficult to force its way into my constricted esophagus—a consequence of my stomach that is determined to remain empty. I depend on the medication to finish my meal, and soon it will no longer work.

My body is already building antibodies to resist it. Despite the numbing drug supposed to put everything to sleep, I still feel the annoying protests of my useless organ, and I'm nauseous. Of course, I relegate this information to the nurse when she comes to collect my tray and draw my blood.

Lady Tsunade will see me today. I await her visit with anxiety. She will probably tell me about my resistance to medications, which is seriously starting to ruin my life. I no longer have any pleasure in eating. I don't need to lose the only help with which I can eat and gain weight without regurgitating everything afterwards. What will I do if I resist the miracle cure that could save my life in the future? Sure, I'm a shinobi with an immune system made of steel, but I'm still a man like any other. Old age won't forget me, and a mortal illness won't spare me.

Naruto fell asleep at my bedside, although the comings and goings of the nurses made him keep an eye open. I repeat to him that he can lie down in the next bed, and each time his refusal is absolute. According to his terrified face, the bed must bring up trauma within him. I assume Naruto was given a bunk like this during his kidnapping ... and not for comfort.

His injuries have almost disappeared; they are simple redness that will fade by tomorrow. Only fatigue hollows out his exhausted face; the dark circles that adorn his eyes speak for themselves. He doesn't sleep enough, if at all. That said, he will be able to rest tonight. If I trust that nightmarish night in which I was almost assaulted, the full moon will force him to sleep.

While I digest my sad meal, the hospital staff barricade the windows of my room, now condemned to darkness. They use hardened fibre boards by nailing them to the wall. With curtains, no light can slip through this barrier. The room is plunged into a rather relaxing darkness. To save my student from unnecessary blindness, a floor lamp with two globes is plugged in and installed at my bedside, illuminating the surroundings with a soft light that allows me to read. The dangers of the imminent full moon are over; one less worry.

My chakra veins no longer hurt as much; they're just a little sore. I may have recovered enough chakra to feed Naruto tomorrow night. I'm willing to bet that he would rather devour a tiny amount of chakra than be offered an "all you can eat buffet." I don't want him to have another meltdown of this magnitude again. Although he accepted Kiba's chakra more easily, the mental repercussions were much more violent than with Shikamaru.

Naruto screamed like a beast in agony and tore out many blond locks. I couldn't stroke his hair to comfort him. Since he was under too much stress, his hairs were fragile and stuck to my hand, probably accentuating their inevitable whitening. He vomited bile several times. I couldn't soothe his cries either; my voice didn't reach him. He weighs tons, sure, but I allowed him to climb on top of me so I could cradle him in my arms. He crushed my thighs and hid his face in my chest moistened with his tears. His cries of despair were so loud and must have been heard by the entire hospital.

I don't know what causes this rupture in him if he devours another chakra than mine, and I don't care. I'm ready to extend my stay and my convalescence to spare him unimaginable suffering. As soon as I can and as long as I can, my chakra will be offered to him on a silver platter. When I woke up this afternoon, I took a look at Naruto's forehead mark on his chest. It hasn't changed; Kiba's chakra nature is also earth.

Since I can stand up on my own and my legs are eager to stretch, the nurse removes this uncomfortable catheter. The relief of no longer having a tube in my penis going to my bladder is indescribable. I don't wait long to have a need to relive myself and therefore, an ideal excuse to take my first steps since my hospitalization.