Severance
He finds her when he is near-dead (again).
She has aged so much and none at all. Her skin is bluish with veins raised, thrashing. But she still had her kindness, her steadfast, assuring smile. Rin is always kind, always loyal.
He can hear it, the lilt in her laugh. Peculiar—he can recognize it anywhere.
"Rin," he calls out.
Winking, she leaves.
Evaporates.
...
She doesn't haunt him screaming (not like Obito and the thousands, endless other ghosts). She lingers only for a bit, revealing only a hazy silhouette. Brief, intangible, and silent.
Desperate, he inveigles her to talk. And stern, she declines the invitation.
Why're you…where are you going? And how do I follow?
Still grinning, Rin waves and cheers him on.
...
He is a second too late and once more, she is gone.
This is madness (he knows) but for some reason, he can't stop.
...
He remembers the precise hour when it happened. When she started slipping and grabbed his hand, thinking it was an anchor. And that, he realizes, was her final mistake. The first was in trusting him all together.
He remembers the day he received the news. Calm, respectful (she would want that) and exhausted. He was nothing else and she—she was good and certainly dead.
He even remembers Obito and the promise (and how sickened and guilty and wretched promises can be).
And then remembers how he failed both of them.
...
She doesn't blame him.
Repeat.
She understands.
Again.
But knowing and believing are two entirely different things. Simple processes feigning resemblance. And he (per usual) is having trouble separating the two.
Reality is heartless—cruel—and he'll just have to make the best of it.
...
Sometimes, he wonders if he does it to himself. On purpose, perverse, and self-hating. Or maybe it's out of some secret and neglected inward-spite. Either way (doesn't matter) there's no escape. Nowhere in sight.
It's fine. He wants it. Has been dreaming, half-desiring this for so long.
Except—drawing in fast and jarring—gradual: she unravels, releases. And he too relinquishes her. He is grateful.
A moment later, Tsunade hovers over him with a sigh of relief forming on the edge of her lips.
It's not okay to die, not right now,not when there are so many counting on you.
(Rin would never forgive him for that—neither would Obito.)