When time is against her, each life changing event is heavily dependent on every millisecond of her actions. For Obito, seconds become hours and minutes become years. The lonely soul that is now so tangible against her skin is holding on by a single thread, a potent sense of determination to keep her presence lingering.
At her gentle persuasion, he reluctantly withdraws from her. There is a set of heavy emotions that persists across his face, yet his gaze is oddly lifeless.
When Rin kneels before him, he sends her a perplexed look of concern.
"Do you remember the last time when we were doing exactly this?" She asks mildly.
Obito's expression is stark with confusion, but he relaxes at her light tone.
"Don't you? We were one week into the Academy and it was so rainy and muddy on the way home," she pauses, an immense attempt on her part not to laugh, "and I didn't want to get my shoes wet so you offered to carry me back. But you somehow misjudged the long distance. There was no way you could have carried me all the way home, but you being you, insisted, only to misstep and fall into an enormous pile of mud. We were both covered in that goopy crap-"
At this point, Obito lets out a short tentative laugh.
"-And I sat you down on the bench underneath that maple tree by the lake and had to kneel before you to bandage your knee," she hesitates, "That turned out spectacularly."
In the tender silence that follows, there is a look of nostalgia in their gazes, a sweet experience only they can re-imagine.
"Of all the times, you had to remember that," Obito says.
He grins sheepishly at her.
"I just remember the better times."
She lets out a soft laugh of delight, an act that sees Obito watching with rising endearment.
"I've always loved the way you laugh," he whispers lightly.
The comment sends her demure gaze to the ground, but Obito takes her hand and tugs her forward.
"You know, I doubt I'd fall victim to the long distance failure of carrying you this time," he says thoughtfully.
There is a haunting smile that dances ever so serenely on her lips.
"You'll have to prove that to me. No teleporting," she answers softly.
When he lifts her from the ground, there is a look of hidden amusement beneath his watch, as if he knows the outcome but is in it for the process.
Perhaps Rin is subconsciously aware, because her head automatically rests against his shoulder - the sense of security flows through as he carries her into the blackness.
x
Her inn room is warm and uplifting.
Obito sets her on the bed then backs from her. For a fleeting moment, his action appears involuntary, but behind the pleasant look of desire, the blatant apprehension makes her heart run cold.
There is deliberation in every move, as if his wariness is tested by her imminent gestures.
"Goodnight," he says.
"You don't want to stay with me?" She asks.
She is having trouble concealing the dismay in her tone.
"You know I always do."
"Then why are you still standing there?"
He does not answer, but a surge of guilt inundates his features.
"You don't have to hate yourself for what you have done. I stand by my words and feelings, I will do it all over again."
There is hesitation in his demeanour as he tearfully turns away, perhaps out of embarrassment for showcasing such strong emotions.
"You are always so kind, Rin. I don't think anyone would ever be good enough to deserve you," he says quietly.
"Do you think I deserve you?" She whispers.
He looks to her in disbelief.
"You deserve only the best," he replies quickly.
She smiles at the abrupt comment.
"Then come here," she reaches out a hand for him.
He stares wildly for several seconds, then tentatively closes the distance between them.
When she takes his hand, his arm instantly tenses.
"What's wrong with your arm?" She asks curiously.
"Nothing of concern," he answers.
She sends him a disapproving frown.
"I'm always watching you, Obito, so please don't hide things from me."
Reluctantly, he allows her to peruse.
"This is the same injury I treated you last time," she stares perplexedly at the familiar deep gash across his left arm.
"I got injured again."
He does not look at her when he speaks. It is a component she finds suspicious, but she does not pursue the subject.
"It's mostly dried up blood," she says, "Come, let's get that off you, okay?"
She takes his hand and leads him to the bathroom.
Without speaking, she slides his shirt off, then takes the hand held shower head and suffuses his arm with water.
There are splashes of blood across his body, some freshly dried, others old and dark. Again, Rin does not question the extent of such injuries, but that does not detract from the disconcerting expression that is evident across her face.
"You know, you might as well just step in and shower that all off," she frowns.
"I'll need help," he answers softly.
She looks to him curiously then turns away in diffidence. Her silence spells her reply, but Obito seems more inclined to get a vocal response from her.
"Because you know, I can't reach the area on my back," he continues.
"Well played," she answers mildly.
"Practicality," he whispers, and he is stripping the rest of his clothes and stepping into the rush of water, "Are you okay?" he adds.
He looks slightly troubled at her frozen expression. Perhaps there is an element of surprise at his sudden audacious move, but it is the incredible sight that paralyses her.
Obito's explicit beauty is ever so flagrant. He is a flawless exemplification of male perfection. And though she has seen the sweetness of his nakedness, the view of his entirety is incredibly alluring. In the full lighting of an artificial glow, his body reflects a perfectly formed stature of power that far exceeds the definition of superiority. In all her life, Rin has never seen anything so exquisitely arousing.
"Yes," she answers swiftly, "let me help you."
Rin is quiet when assisting him, but the atmosphere's tension is so strong, she finds herself repeatedly working at the same spot, even after the blood is long gone.
"Either I'm still bleeding or the blood residue is glued on rather strongly," Obito says sometime later.
She breaks from the nervous trance and mutters a sheepish apology.
"Are you okay?" he turns and halts her hand.
She does not answer, instead, her attention arrests on the mesmerising droplets of water that is sliding so serenely down that perfect muscular chest. One after another, it continues, sliding and landing, until she automatically reaches for it.
Good heavens he is incredibly beautiful.
"Rin?"
She does not respond to his quizzical frown, nor the deep heavy breathing he is actioning in response to her soft caresses. And without so much as a flicker, she steps close, fully clothed in her nightdress, until the gush of water descends onto her.
"Rin?"
His voice is uncertain.
But the sound of her name and the firm grip on her waist breaks the reverie.
"I'm sorry, all done," she gives a brief smile, "come here, I'll wash your hair too."
Obito's hold remains firm as she moves through his hair in gentle strokes. And with every motion, her body is lightly brushing against his.
"You have a lot of hair, it's rather deceptive," she lets the water suffuse his hair in heavy wet droplets.
Even when she finishes, Obito does not let go. Instead, his watch lingers on her torso, where the nightdress is clinging possessively to her body, it could look like she is completely naked.
"What a sight," he whispers.
He nudges her forwards so that her soft body is pressing and sliding against the hardness of his chest.
Then, he leans down and kisses her with a reinvigorating sweetness.
When he withdraws from her, he is resting his cheek against her forehead.
"Will it be your turn now?" He breathes.
The comment sears her cheeks with flames of embarrassment.
"I suppose so," she answers quietly.
Without a spoken word, she removes all material barriers, until she is standing and shivering nervously before him. But he gives no reaction to her nakedness, instead he is lathering her hair with the sweet floral scent of soap and running the silky strands between the heavy drops of water.
When he finishes, Obito turns her around so she is facing the blank tile walls. Without speaking, he runs the liquid soap down her back, and manipulates every muscle from shoulders to legs.
In Rin's mind, the suppression of rising pleasure is futile. The sensation is so excruciatingly intense, it stays rooted at the forefront of her consciousness.
Only when his hand reaches her inner thigh that her breath hitches and a soft muffled gasp emanates their surroundings. And he notices, yet his hand runs further, until it reaches her centre and he is lightly brushing the warmth of sensitive skin. But it does not last long, as if her middle is just like any other part of her body and he is moving on at a leisurely pace.
Her deep exhales reinforce the delightful movement of his hands, which have now strayed between her breasts. Then he encloses them in his palms and gently presses in a circular motion. In time-freezing moment, his fingers manipulate the stiffen peaks that have notably changed in size and sensitivity.
And again, he notices.
"I'm hurting you," he says to her sudden wince.
"No," she replies swiftly, "just-just sensitive."
She does not face him for fear he may read the guilty emotions of her secret. But he is staring curiously. His gaze sweeps back and forth between her face and the size of her swollen, tender breasts.
She does not dismiss the rapid changes to her body and how responsive it is to every sensation in her environment. The feelings are at odds with her mind.
For the sake of both their sanity and her very limited time, she chooses not to disclose the situation happening inside her. Yet the new life continues to gravitate towards him.
"Don't stop," she continues.
When Obito resumes his actions, he leans in and encloses his mouth over the harden tip of her breast. The gentle drawing motion sends a flurry of heated desire that ends feverishly in the very depths of her womb. When he lets go, the emotions instantly dissipate and leaves a lingering feeling of loneliness.
"Do you want more?" He whispers from behind.
At his comment, she swiftly turns and presses against him with impatient zeal. Her fingers run across his chest as if delicately perusing a frangible artwork. When she lightly brushes his nipple, he lets out a restrained groan that acts as an incremental cue for her impending action. Her mouth takes over and she is lovingly tasting the saltiness of his skin, and drowning herself in his enrapturing scent.
When her lips venture upwards to meet his in a potent kiss, Obito's response is instantaneous. Possessively, his arm encircles her in a tight embrace. Then, he lifts her leg so it sits firmly against his side. With effortless movement, he fills her, so sweetly and passionately, she can feel the pulsating need.
Not once throughout their avid lovemaking does she show signs of hesitancy or reluctance. Her insatiable need for love is so immense, she barely notices the pain when he mercilessly grips her waist.
At his release, the suppressed groan manifests in reluctant gasps that resonates from the back of his throat like an enticing dulcet sound.
Her deep satisfactory sigh of fulfilment sends a wave of exhilaration throughout that persists when she collapses against him.
Then, she is syncing her breathing with the steady, tranquillising intake of his breath. The atmosphere of falling water, and the satisfying heat is a perfect reinforcement to the love she so dearly misses.
x
"Rin, there is something I'd like to give you," Obito says.
She is already sliding comfortably between the coolness of sheets.
Obito sits beside her, and she is staring at those well defined muscles of his arms. When her gaze sweeps his entirety, she is disappointed that his pants are back on.
"What is it?"
"One tool in reserve," he says quietly.
He takes her hand and places the object in her palm.
The gold-bronze necklace is ancient, and holds an intricate symbol that is circular in shape, with three long triangles evenly spaced and curved. The shape's outline is black, followed by a thin dark shade of red. Although old, it is remarkably beautiful.
"What is it for?" She asks inquisitively.
When she holds it close, there is an unusual energy that emits from it.
"It's been passed down for generations. It is a gift given to the eldest son's wife who marries into the family. I inherited it from my mother before she died, so I guess my father was either the eldest living son or an only child," he pauses, then stares vacantly out the window, "Not that I'd want to delve that deeply into my family's history."
Rin frowns.
"Why not?"
"I don't know too much about them. The Uchiha aren't exactly a clan that gives out their information so publicly, particularly my bloodline."
He watches her speculatively before continuing.
"That necklace has only appeared twice throughout our entire family history."
Rin looks to him in puzzlement.
"What do you mean?"
"There is a secret room in my family that can only be accessed with my bloodline's Sharingan. The chamber contains an ancient stone that specifically holds that necklace. If the woman who currently owns the necklace does not pass it on to her eldest living son before she dies, it will disappear with her and only re-emerge at random."
"Why is it so complicated?"
"I don't know, I don't make the rules."
"What is it supposed to do?"
"There is an element of protection, but I don't know the extent of its powers. I don't know enough about it, and besides it is only of use to the woman it is gifted to."
"Why are you giving it to me, I-"
She stops herself abruptly.
Does he know of her fate?
Her indispose status and those recurring dark-grey lines are blatant, but not once has he ever questioned her about them or why her health is deteriorating.
Obito gives her that reticent look she can never decrypt, but his expression softens and he takes the necklace from her hand.
"I won't be giving it to anyone else. Turn around, I'll put it on you."
Tentatively she complies, and when he hovers close, she has the incredible urge to sink back into him.
"Fits you nicely," he says quietly.
"Thank you," she says.
For a fleeting moment, nothing happens. But then a sudden rush of comforting warmth surges through and her fatigue lifts. The very faint dark-grey lines that are weakly concealed by her jutsu recedes into her skin, followed by an insurmountable feeling of vitality she cannot pin down.
"I feel strange," she continues.
Obito looks troubled.
"Are you okay?"
Rin nods.
"In a good way," she answers.
He looks relieved.
"I don't think this is any ordinary necklace," she continues.
She turns to face him fully.
"I feel at ease," she takes his hand and shuffles in for an embrace.
And when Obito leans in to kiss her, she responds with equal vigor.
But as his hand moves from her waist to her torso and down towards her abdomen, she instantly stiffens in horrified silence. Perhaps there is fear he may discover that bittersweet secret? Regardless, his presence sits dangerously close, she is afraid he may discern her from touch alone.
There is a disconcerting frown etched between his expression, yet she deliberately evades his watch by burying her face into his shoulder.
She welcomes his non-existent response to her actions, as if he understands the emotional turmoil that swirls in her mind. But when he pries himself from her, she does not make any dismissive moves for fear he may detach and break the palliative proximity.
Only sometime after when she is finally looking at him does she respond to the tender expression he is giving her.
"Do you want to know something?" She asks softly.
His gaze is wistful.
"I love you so very much."