Theseus


Numb.

There was no breeze brushing over her skin, no water rolling off her arms, no sunlight warming her hair.

There was no light in front of her eyes, no darkness to obscure her vision.

There was nothing.

She refused to feel, refused to recognize. It wasn't conscious, it wasn't unconscious. It just was.

They tried to make her eat, to respond, but she stared listlessly ahead, up at the ceiling, at the sky, at the grass in front of her; whatever was there at the moment.

Her mind had been broken and now there were only memories.

She walked where she was told, sat when they pushed gently on her shoulders. They told her she was making progress, but she couldn't escape the maze.

Why couldn't they see the maze?

The twisting shadows, the endless corridors, the corners that were sharp as a knife.

It trapped her, tried to keep her in, clawing at what little sanity she had left by throwing pictures, feelings, touches, scents at her.

So many times she tried to tell him about it, he was the only one who would understand. But they, they dismissed it as ramblings, odd noises and gestures that made no sense.

Eventually they refused to let him see her anymore, saying his visits only made her agitated, slowing her recovery.

She grew worse after that, not even moving when they stood her up from her bed. She would stand there, looking straight ahead, arms listless at her sides. They couldn't make her walk.

Eventually she was confined to a wheelchair, a throw across her lap. An orderly pushed her around, made sure she went outside. She didn't recognize the light, the dark, the warmth.

She was still trapped in the maze, fighting for a way out. Now only a thin thread stretched forward from her position, the only guide to the exit.

She edged around corners, never taking her eyes off the precious string, the escape. But it grew thinner day by day.

Then it happened.

He fought his way back in, yelling. She heard his voice as it echoed down the corridors, and the thread grew thicker.

"I don't care what you say! She's not getting any better, for all of your efforts! Let me try my way."

She wasn't in that place of walls and corners, light and darkness anymore. Now she saw rounded ends, greys and blues, and white.

"Come back to me," he would whisper, and she would struggle to make a gesture, to show him she was fighting.

The end was so close she could almost touch it.

Her finger moved. She was there, at the end of the maze, looking at the wall the string disappeared through, but she couldn't follow. Her hands were flat against it, trying to push through, trying, trying…a finger slipped through, and it moved.

He saw it, eyes shooting up to hers where they still stared straight ahead.

It wasn't until weeks later, when she could move her hand, that he had hope. Fingers now clenched voluntarily, able to grasp his hand tightly to keep him from moving away.

The more progress manifested, the faster it spread, as she pushed herself through that membrane that separated her from her body. She would win.

The last part to slip through was her head.

" – aiya?" Her voice was nearly gone from disuse, a weak whisper he only heard because he was listening for it.

Eyes that hadn't focused in so long finally saw his face, the messy white hair, red rimmed eyes, disbelieving expression.

Her mouth opened again, but this time nothing came out. She couldn't form the word.

"You don't have to try," he told her, looking into her eyes for the first time since it happened. "It will come eventually."

And he was right.

There was sunlight, and darkness, and water, and grass, and warmth. Eventually there was laughter, smiles, and no more mazes.

For the first time since she had been broken, since that event, Tsunade was on her way to becoming whole once more.