"I can send two of you back. That's all I can manage." Obito has no legs, a hand is missing, his chest stutters up and down unevenly. His accelerated healing ability has long since worn out. "You have less than a day to decide. After that, it will be too late."
"Sasuke," begins Naruto. They are in their shared tent, crammed full of books and scrolls and weapons. They have been sat in silence for some time until now. "I can't make this choice."
His friend says nothing. Mismatched eyes watch him, unreadable.
Naruto shakes his head, desperately needing him to understand. "I can't."
But Sasuke only rises and strides from the tent.
It has been every man for himself for a while now, except for those select few fortunate enough — strong enough — to still have a few of their comrades by their side. Every man for himself, except for Team 7.
And Naruto; a terrible, terrible part of him wonders if perhaps that has changed.
"What are the odds of this working?"
Obito raises an eyebrow, scarred face managing a grotesque display of derision. "What? Of me successfully launching someone back in time? Slim. But high enough to take the chance."
"What are the odds of it working for both."
A pause. Hesitation brought on by self-doubt. "I'm dying. Wait too long to make your choices and I won't have the power to send one back, let alone two."
"That wasn't an answer."
"Alright then, I'll bite. Best case scenario: both land in the intended time, but in different places. Worst case? One lands in the wrong place, wrong time, and the other is entirely lost in the time-stream forever."
Contemplative silence. They have assumed the risks involved already, but hearing it confirmed was something else.
"Like I said, you need to choose quickly."
"Obito said that?" says Sakura, short hair falling about her face.
"Yes. He sounded fairly sure of himself."
"No one knows the extent Kamui like him…"
"So. We have to come to a decision."
She pauses, thinking. Her tent is close to the medical bay, and full of supplies. She thinks about Ino, and Hinata, and the surgery she performed on their bodies to keep them alive. It had been successful, but they had died later nonetheless.
Sakura smiles. "All of you come here for tea tonight? Around ten? I'll be off by then, and Kiba's patrol should be out."
They nod. Sakura keeps smiling, and hopes it looks better than it feels.
Warm lamplight fills the tent. Boxes have been shoved roughly to the sides, building up around them like walls. There is barely room for the four of them in there, but they make do. The old tea pot is boiled by the time Sasuke and he arrive, Kakashi already sat by Sakura's side. Naruto thinks that, were it not for the death in the air and the silence of the Earth, it might almost be like old times.
"Naruto. You have to go back," says Sakura, taking a sip of her tea.
His jaw tightens and he frowns. "Why me?"
"You're the most likely to survive such a trip, Naruto," Kakashi points out, and in the blink of an eye he has drained his cup without ever revealing the face beneath the mask.
Naruto balls his hands into fists. "That's—That's not—That's not a good enough reason."
"It's a damn well good enough reason and you know it!" growls Sakura with a fierce scowl. "The whole point of this is to go back and change things, and you can't do that if you're dead."
"Face it, you're going back, dobe," drawls Sasuke, idly swirling the tea in his cup.
"You can't— Don't ask me to make this choice!" he yells, desperate for them to not make him choose, to not make him leave his comrades, his friends, his family in this hell world.
Sakura looks at Kakashi, who is eyeing Naruto with something like regret, and she smiles. "We've already made the choice for you. For both of you." And she and Kakashi are both smiling at he and Sasuke.
At first he doesn't comprehend, but then he looks at the sheen on Sakura's forehead, and the slight glaze to Kakashi's eye, and Naruto thinks those smiles are the worst things he has ever seen.
"Tell me you didn't. No—But, when—?" Sasuke cuts himself off, even as all Naruto can hear is roaring in his ears, and all he can taste is the death, the death in the air and the soil and the tea— "Before we arrived. You poisoned the tea. But we—"
"It won't affect you. We took the poison before you arrived, to remain dormant until we drank the tea, which contained the catalyst. Don't worry — it's made of poisons you're both immune to," explains Sakura, and Naruto wants to scream.
"No, no— You'll be fine. Just put together an antidote, it won't take long, you'll be fine—" Naruto stops at the sob catching in his throat, and he shakes with grief for the people he loves who are dying in front of him, and who he is powerless to save.
Kakashi smiles, reaching up with hands that are too slow, too clumsy, to push up his hitai-ate. A Sharingan swirls sluggishly, roaming over Naruto's face, over Sasuke's face, and their teacher gives a low laugh. "We took the poison well before you arrived. Sakura-chan would need an hour to put together an antidote. We don't have an hour." Even as he says it, Naruto watches sakura's head begin to hang, her shoulders slump slightly, and she leans on Kakashi's shoulder. Kakashi equally puts his weight against her, and they are holding each other up, almost.
"Don't—Don't—" Naruto can't get the words out, he can't get them out, there is nothing he can say which even begins to describe this, this loss, this anger, this pure despair. How is this how they die? How is this how Hatake Kakashi and Haruno Sakura die? "Don't do this. Don't. Don't."
And tears leak from Sakura's eyes, as she leans her head on Kakashi's shoulder, skin rapidly losing colour. The droplets soak into the dark material of Kakashi's armoured jacket. "You'll be fine. You'll… You'll both be fine. I believe in you."
Kakashi, who Naruto has seen at his best, at his worst, who has been the strongest person throughout Naruto's entire life, like a father to him, takes Sakura's hand in a gesture of comfort. His eyes droop, the Sharingan's movement slower and slower. "I have great faith in you both. I am proud of you all. Thank you for being my students."
Naruto shakes his head. It isn't happening. It is not happening. This isn't— It isn't— It is not—
"Naruto. Kit," rumbles Kurama softly, and Naruto closes his eyes with a shudder.
He won't accept this. He can't—
"Uzumaki-san, Uchiha-san!" comes the cry of a former Iwa-nin, and on reflex they turn to face him, hands flying to concealed weapons. He bursts through the flaps of the tent, eyes wide and frantic as he hones in on them immediately. "It's Uchiha Obito! He— He said to send for you— He's not going to last much longer!"
Naruto thinks he might be sick from the sheer everything that is happening. He grits his teeth, nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood, turns back to Kakashi and Sakura, "I'll give you Kurama's chakra, just hold—"
"Naruto," says Sasuke, something tight and strained and wrong in his voice.
And Naruto's breath stutters to a halt as he sees, sees Kakashi with his eyes closed and head leant against Sakura's, sees their ashen skin, slumped forms barely keeping each other upright, and entirely, horrifyingly still.
No. No no no no—
"Naruto, we have to go," says Sasuke, and Naruto can't believe it, can't comprehend what he's saying, because Kakashi and Sakura are both just sitting there and not moving and not breathing and— and—
Sasuke's hand closes around his arm unforgivingly, dragging him up.
"Sasuke, let me go!" he screams, and thrashes wildly as he reaches out with his other arm to his friends, desperate to— to do something.
Arms wrap around him, pinning his own down, and he throws his head back to break Sasuke's nose.
"Naruto!" Sasuke growls. "It's too late! It— We have to go!"
"No— No, I won't— I can't!"
"They're dead!"
Naruto stills in Sasuke's hold; he can't breathe for the numb shock that closes in around him. He is dragged from the tent, his body limp, as he desperately stares back at Kakashi and Sakura who really just look like they are sleeping, just resting after a long day, until the flaps shut and leave them to their makeshift tombs.
Obito's breaths are short and ragged, pallor almost as white as the Senju-cell half of his body. He does not have long. They stumble into his tent ungracefully, Naruto held firmly in Sasuke's grasp. The red rimmed blue eyes, the hard set to Sasuke's jaw — Obito understands what has happened, with a flash of something cold and desolate deep within him.
"Was it painless?" he rasps, even though it really doesn't matter.
Sasuke's mouth tightens, but he nods once.
Good. That… That is good, at least. "We must hurry. Are you ready?"
"Are you?" demands Sasuke.
He smiles thinly. "Come closer."
Sasuke hauls Naruto with him until they are beside his futon.
They both know how this has to happen, and who the priority is. It is an unspoken acceptance between them, like a sacred law that must be abided by.
Gathering his strength, his soul, his entire being, Obito commands, "Kamui!"
They were told to hold on to one another as they travelled, to keep each other as close as possible lest they be lost to the river of time that flows between worlds. A spectrum flows around them, liquid and volatile and rushing at light-speed; it floods their every sense with indescribable colour as they travel.
Sasuke thinks this might be beauty, or perhaps a nightmarish parody. His hold on Naruto has not lessened; Naruto, eyes wide as he takes in the spectacle of Time, seems to have forgotten how to move his body.
He almost smiles. "Dobe, don't mess things up too bad, ne?"
Naruto turns to him, grief still fresh in his eyes, frowns uncomprehendingly. "What are you—?"
He grips Naruto's jacket hard, and blue eyes widen in horror.
"No—!"
Sasuke shoves Naruto away from him with all his power towards the speck of white at the end of the fluid light tunnel, and allows himself a moment of quiet reflection.
If anyone can do this, it's Naruto.
Sasuke closes his eyes, having known it would come to this in the end, and lets himself fall away into the nothing of eternity.
He lands in Fire Country. The heat, the humidity; there is no mistaking it. The forest around him thrums with life, birds sing softly, wind rustles the leaves of the trees and the tall grass sways. This green world around him is alive with the promise of a good tomorrow.
And, alone in this world, Naruto screams.
The flare of chakra is wide, massively spread — even low-level sensory shinobi from each and every village can feel it.
In Konohagakure, a man and his wife pause in their preparations for their evening meal. They stand in silence for a long, tense minute, and then the woman nods.
Yondaime Namikaze Minato tugs on his coat, bids Kushina a good evening, and departs.
He looks to the north, and trepidatiously he wonders.
A/N: So. This just kind of happened. idk where I'm going with it yet so I'm just gonna take it chapter by chapter, try and exercise those angst muscles that haven't been used in a while, try and make something interesting of this? But yeah idk what it's gonna turn into tbh.
