Thank you all for your reviews! I really enjoy reading themm

Beta-read by the wonderful Sanatoria!

(Chapter title from Fool's Garden's "Still Running")

(just a head's up - if anyone's checking the songs, by no means do they all in some way relate to the chapter in question or story in general, I merely find certain lyrics, whether they may be taken out of context or not, fitting)

Chapter III - eyes like jail

He felt like he was swimming.

All thoughts had silenced, his mind had cleared, and the elevated feeling soothed his troubled heart immensely. At that moment, he didn't even remember why it had been aching. As if all burdens had lifted, chains dropped, and he was left with nothing but ignorant bliss.

He bathed in it for a moment. Or for eternity. It was all too unclear, but it was not enough.

So it was only natural that Obito felt a tinge of resistance as soon as his soul was beginning to be dragged back to reality. He wished to remain in this white domain for a little longer, but somewhere, in the deepest part of his mind, he knew he couldn't. Even if Obito would rather choose to spend forever in this silent void than to come back, it was not an option.

And so Obito allowed himself to reemerge.

Slowly, the whiteness was replaced by inky darkness, and distant sounds began reaching his ears. The last strings of unconsciousness gradually faded as if sugar in tea, and the feeling of his heavy body returned.

Obito continued feigning sleep for a short while.

Even if every inch of him felt somewhat sore, the position he was in was far from uncomfortable. Evidently, he was laying on a soft mattress, and judging by the absence of coldness, he was inside. Actually, it was rather warm, almost too much. But Obito didn't complain. Instead, he focused on his other senses.

He seemed to be alone in the room. The only sound he could make out was a soft chirping somewhere far away, and a distant rustling of mixed noises. Gentle light was hitting his closed eyelid, so Obito concluded it must have been daytime. Something uncomfortable was poking in the inner side of his forearm, but it was only mildly distracting. Overall, a serene blanket laid upon him, something he wasn't particularly used to.

Finally, he opened his eye.

It was a hospital room. Interestingly enough, it was one of those individual rooms, reserved for important people. Or someone who should be kept separate. Obito wasn't sure into which category he fell.

(He hadn't been in a hospital in a long time. Or anywhere nice and clean and bright and warm and—)

Obito was just relieved it wasn't a T&I chamber. That would have caused problems.

A glance to his side confirmed the vague idea that he was hooked to a tube. Clear liquid was periodically dripping into it, and judging by how numb he felt, it was most likely painkillers. Perhaps something else, too, but Obito couldn't have known. Still, even though his body ached significantly less, Obito greatly disliked being desensitized. Or have any foreign substance unknown to him enter his system. Some might call it paranoia, a shinobi would call it common sense.

He would have to mention that on the first occasion.

Quickly after that the door opened and a nurse walked in. Noticing that her patient was very much conscious, she seemed to still for a moment before a gentle smile appeared on her lips.

''I see you're finally awake,'' she spoke, closing the door behind her. ''You're in Konoha's hospital. How are you feeling? Are you in any immediate pain? Would you like some water?''

Obito was silent for a couple of moments, observing the young woman closely. She didn't portray any unease, or was exceptionally well at covering it. Someone who most likely had experience with a wide variety of patients.

(He was unused to such looks. It wasn't cold, it wasn't hostile, it wasn't broken. It unnerved him.)

''I'm fine, and no,'' he finally answered quietly without elaborating further. He had survived through much worse. And even if he was definitely thirsty, and that clear jug was just standing there a few meters away, he would wait awhile before consuming anything from these people.

''Alright, then I'll be bringing a doctor to check up on your injuries, if that's okay with you.''

Obito mused silently. Her tone and wording were rather strange. Since when did a patient have a saying in such matters? The nurse was acting as if he were a traumatized child, and while yes, his physical condition hadn't been the best, surely that wasn't enough of a reason for such tenderness?

(Nothing was.)

However, Obito's exterior betrayed none of these thoughts and he merely nodded. Flashing one last reassuring smile, the woman left.

...A bit unexpected, but he shrugged it off. Maybe the nurse was just like that. Sure, he had been pronounced dead for more or less a year, but again, it wasn't entirely unheard-of when shinobi turn out to be alive, especially in cases where their bodies hadn't been retrieved. Quite rare, yes, but it still happened.

His thoughts were cut off by the door opening a second time. Now a couple of nurses walked in along with what appeared to be a doctor. The woman in charge stopped at his bed's foot and brought a clipboard in front of her, while the remaining pair began fussing over him, however gently. After removing the tube per Obito's request (not without asking for confirmation three times, though), they took his temperature, checked his eye responses and examined the many bandages adorning his body, making sure none were coming loose. They also mentioned something about needing to reapply them at a later time (why, he couldn't fathom, wasn't he already practically healed?), all the while speaking in such gracious tones that it almost made Obito sick and honestly freaked him out a bit. He couldn't remember the last time someone addressed him nicely, much less kindly, it simply felt wrong. No, he was used to harsh, usually indifferent tones, and more often than not filled with hate and fury. This whole situation seemed beyond bizarre, and the silently distressed Uchiha was left mildly disturbed.

He was not made of glass, but he decided to keep such thoughts to himself.

Finally, after his quick check-up, the nurses relayed the information to the doctor and left the two of them alone. Obito's eye lingered a second longer on the door before shifting to the woman in front of him.

She smiled, but it was considerably more professional, for which her patient was glad.

''Are you capable of answering a couple of questions before we proceed?''

Obito nodded. This was a standard procedure to determine his cooperation and, well, sanity.

The inquires were incredible simple. "What is your name, your age, where do you come from" and so on. Obito noticed that not one was related to what had happened or things that actually mattered. Perhaps that would be left to the definitely pending interrogation. Obito suppressed a frown at that thought.

''Okay, I will now relay your condition.'' The woman flipped a couple of pages. ''You suffered several second degree burns, some first degree, but luckily no third, and I'm pleased to tell you they've been healing remarkably quickly. There was also a significant amount of bruising, but fortunately no internal bleeding or broken bones. What took the biggest toll on your body was near-total chakra depletion and damaged coils, though they also seem to be healing well. Other than that, we could not execute any more in-depth tests on the orders of the Hokage. All in all, you do not seem to be in any immediate danger.''

''I see,'' Obito murmured. His eye shifted from the woman to stare at the wall as his mind digested the information. He had expected most of the diagnosis, the most worrying one concerning his chakra. Rarely had he faced exhaustion, usually there had always more than enough for anything. And he still had had a good amount of it left when he returned to Mountain's Graveyard, so the only explanation for his condition had to be related to that sudden suppression back at the cave. But damaged coils, too?

If not dealt with, this could turn into a huge problem.

Obito forced his mind to shift from that certain topic for the meantime. There were other, more pressing matters at hand.

On the orders of the Hokage, huh?

Well that was interesting. Obito wished to ask whether other, not-entirely-physical procedures had been performed while he was unconscious, but opted against it. For one, it would raise suspicion. And two, if the medical staff were not allowed to delve into his physical condition more than absolutely necessary, then he had reason to believe his mind had been left untouched, too. Given that he wasn't in chains in front of ANBU only solidified that belief. Obito felt his tense shoulders relax oh-so-slightly.

''Oh, before I leave, I have one last question,'' the woman addressed him near the door. ''Now that you're awake, would you be willing to accept visitors?''

Obito's throat constricted and he was suddenly left speechless. A heavy weight landed on his chest, tearing up his lungs, and for a fleeting moment, he couldn't breathe. Fearing the sound of his voice, Obito merely nodded. His perfect impassive facade held up until he was finally left alone.

After that, the Uchiha allowed his face to twist.

~.~

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before the heavy hanging silence was broken again. This time, a couple of soft knocks resounded through the room before the door opened. Even having expected the occurrence, Obito barely managed to push down a flinch. His lone eye flickered to the newcomer and he almost we wished it hadn't.

His insides lurched painfully at the sight, and for a second his vision swam. Sunny yellow tore through his mind, blinding with its vibrance. Gentle blue now appeared ocean vast that threatened to drown him, its lively flickering scorching his soul, tearing every string apart, choking him—

Obito's old sensei was more alive (alivealivealivefake) than in his abandoned vision of a perfect world. And certainly an infinity away from being the cracked reanimated corpse he last remembered.

The crushing guilt was threatening to swallow him whole.

And that was with the sedatives still in his system.

A tender (nervousworrieddoubtfulcrushing), small smile played on Minato's lips. Warm reassurance radiated from the man as he slowly and rather carefully approached Obito's bed. His calculating eyes surveyed every inch of the boy's face and Obito could barely conceal how suffocating his sensei's bright presence was.

(It was strange—despite his appearance, despite all those far-too-young faces, despite Rin Obito could only follow strings of logic, but not accept it. Minato being here, with him, seemed like something irrefutable, yet at the same time completely unearthly, and Obito was left grasping for those cords that now appeared so far away.)

Finally, Minato spoke:

''How are you, Obito?''

His voice was gentle, any worrying, dismayed, heavy emotions carefully shoved away. As if a soothing melody it rang in the room, but to the other it was anything but.

He thought he might go blind if he stared a second longer at his former sensei.

How was he supposed to answer that kind of question?

Finally, Obito decided on nonchalance.

''Been better I guess,'' he said, giving a half-shrug (really?didn't slip?). His mouth felt dry. ''Been worse, too. Doctor said I'll live, so I suppose that's good.''

Fortunately, the tension eased as Minato's smile widened slightly. He seemed pleased by the honest answer. Somewhat. Still, he obviously found comfort in the fact that Obito seemed responsive.

After a beat of contemplation, Minato walked closer and took a seat in one of the chairs. Obito, too, decided to move into a more or less sitting position, ignoring his protesting muscles. He didn't want to appear frail, not to his sensei at least (not after all of that).

Obito's lone eye now focused on his lap where his hand laid limp. Minato was a bit too close for comfort and he didn't wish to show any clear signs of dismay, so he opted to just... not look at the other. For as long as he could anyway.

The silence stretched for a few seconds.

''Your doctor informed me that she told you about your condition. You probably have a few concerns.'' Minato's soft voice filled the room again. He, too, was avoiding any topics that surely were begging to be broached. But, as always, his sensei was beyond considerate (it'swrong).

Obito mused on his answer for a bit. There was indeed one thing that peaked his interest.

''She said they didn't do anything too thorough on the orders of the Hokage,'' he finally spoke, allowing curiosity and a bit of confusion to leak into his tone.

''Ah, right,'' Obito saw Minato nod in his peripheral vision. ''I actually asked the Hokage to give that order. That, and a prohibition to enter your mind for information. It seemed wrong, given your... predicament. Luckily, the Hokage agreed. All they did really was confirm your identity.''

''I see,'' Obito murmured. After a pause, he flashed his sensei a quick, however small smile. ''Thank you for the consideration.''

The words burned his tongue. Was it something his younger self would have said? Fortunately, any... drifts from his character Minato was used to could easily be explained. He had been missing for over a year, after all. And if one spared a look at his body...

It was certainly not too far fetched to believe some changed in his persona had happened.

Still.

Obito disliked the way Minato spoke and he himself sounded.

It felt wrong on a variety of levels.

(His mind flashed a memory of Minato expressing his shock and dismay as he slashed Obito's body. That seemed more fitting. Obito tasted bitterness.)

''Of course,'' his sensei answered kindly. Any surprise was covered with great skill.

''I'm guessing you have some concerns, too,'' Obito said, not allowing the silence to continue. He forced some lightheartedness into voice, hoping it would put Minato a bit more at ease. His lips even lifted upwards a bit.

(Gods he missed his masks. He could already feel cracks in his facade forming. Minato was too bright, too kind, too alive, too—)

''Well, uh,'' Minato said, looking taken aback, but he quickly gathered himself. ''There's no need to talk about that yet. You should focus on healing, first.''

Obito hummed. He could never understand how this man could be so tactful if he wanted to. Anyone else would be demanding answers by now, to hell with his condition. And while part of him was glad for it, Obito wasn't sure how to react.

One thing was certain, though—there was little doubt that this wasn't, in fact, Hell. An alive and healthy Minato had no place in it.

At least that was out of the way.

Another matter was already making itself known.

Obito licked his dry lips and opened his mouth to speak, but Minato beat him to it.

''Oh, you're probably thirsty, do you want some water?'' he asked even as he was already standing up.

Obito spared a quick glance at the man. On impulse, he nodded, because despite everything he trusted the man, and even though it was so stupid, the jug was the same, it was still different.

A distant part of his mind whispered, that this could actually not be Minato, and only someone who looked like him, who came here to put him at ease and probe some answers out, but Obito quickly disregarded that idea. Sure, people could imitate his sensei's appearance, but never his presence and those eyes. For awhile, he was safe.

(His body was safe. His mind—)

After gulping down the entire glass of fresh, cold liquid—only then did he realize how dry his mouth had actually felt—a stray thought suddenly appeared that demanded attention.

''Hey, Minato-sensei...'' The name scraped his insides, but he pushed through, casting a carefully constructed, curious look at the man. ''For how long was I unconscious?''

Minato thought for a short moment.

''Today would be the third day.''

Obito's eye widened slightly. Three days? Had he really been that drained? That last Kamui technique had probably taken a greater toll on his already injured chakra coils than he realized. This younger body was also most likely not as used to such strain. He'd have to keep that in mind.

''...Oh,'' Obito murmured. Three days... His lips moved before he could realize. ''How's Kakashi?''

If Minato was surprised by such a question, he didn't show it. There were certainly a couple of things that should have seemed... off to him, but he didn't voice them. Obito, on the other hand, didn't know whether to curse his mouth or praise for such an opening.

''...He's, well...'' Minato considered his answer carefully, his piercing gaze not once leaving his (former) student. Obito didn't have to look to know his sensei was baring a pained expression. He must be feeling incredibly conflicted. Kakashi as well, no doubt. ''He actually was just recently discharged from the hospital due to chakra exhaustion. But he came to visit you immediately once he heard about your... return. However...'' Minato took a rather shaky breath and Obito's heart skipped a beat. He knew what was coming. ''Obito, there's something you should know.''

''I know about Rin,'' the boy spoke quietly before his sensei had a chance to continue. The words felt like ash on his tongue, images of blood and corpses flashing through his mind. He managed to swallow the rising bile. ''I know she killed herself, Sensei.''

This time, shock was clearly visible on Minato's features. His student kept throwing him for a loop this entire conversation and the future Hokage obviously didn't know what to make of it. He was silent for a few excruciatingly long moments, mouth opening and closing, before finally he found his voice.

''How?''

Obito took in a controlled breath, preparing himself. Perhaps it hadn't been wise to reveal such information, perhaps he should have pretended he was oblivious, but for one, he realized he would not be able to react realistically to such news, and two, he felt he should lie to his sensei as little as possible. This was a man he definitely could trust (despite being so untrustworthy himself). And besides, Obito didn't want to deceive Minato any more than it was absolutely necessary. Not again, not ever. That was the least he could do after everything.

Slowly, he lifted his head, the intricate design of his Mangekyou Sharingan adorning his iris. His eye pierced through Minato's blue wide ones, and the image of the man's every muscle tensing, a sharp inhale filling his lungs, a sea of emotions washing over his features was ingrained in his mind in all its beauty.

''Because I saw it happen.''

Were expecting more? Too bad, guess you'll have to wait again haah

I mean, sure, I could make longer chapters, but then I'd also have to post less frequently, so in the end you'd get the same result. I just think weekly medium-length updates work best for all of us :')

Drop down your thoughts if you want or could! Would appreciate it greatlyy

That's it for tonight folks