under the same sun
[stains]
summary: it didn't get any easier, it just became routine
rating: T
characters: Obito, Rin
note1: this was supposed to be up on Friday, but i had too much homework and an online course to finish - sorry! i originally wanted to do something light and fluffy to make up for all the angst in the last chapter, but i wanted to finish this prompt and there wasn't much i could do with it to make it all romantic and sappy.
note2: the next prompt will (and this is a promise) have much more romance in it. =)
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She knows something is amiss when Obito abruptly brushes, rushing into the small motel room they're staying at for the duration of their mission, and locks himself inside the washroom, refusing to open the door. He doesn't answer when she knocks on it repeatedly, only offering a choked I'm fine, before the sound of running water drowns the rest out.
Rin doesn't stop her, and worriedly calls out his name until he finally relents and lets the door openly slight ajar. The scent of disinfectant clings to him when he peers out; his eyes rimmed red and bloodshot, and his voice thick from tears he's undoubtedly shed.
"Are you okay, Obito-san?"
The despondency on his face makes her worry even more. All traces of his usual exuberance is gone, replaced with a hallow look in his eyes and an empty chill to his voice. "I'm fine."
Only, she knows he's not. His forced attempt at smiling makes her heart ache painfully in her chest.
Nudging her foot into the little opening, she doesn't give him the chance to close the door, putting up that barrier between them again. Forcing her way into the washroom, the first thing she notices is the pinkish stains marking the white porcelain of the sink, the second is his hands, scrubbed raw with the washcloth sitting in the middle of the sink, and the small piece of soap, turned a grotesque red color. When she quickly assesses him for any external cuts or injuries, she finds none, and it all clicks into place.
The blood isn't his.
"O-Obito-san," she whispers, her chest restricting achingly at the agonized look in his eyes.
"I-I killed them, Rin…I-I…"
Rin immediately pulls him close, tucking his head into the crook of her neck, and holding him tight against her chest. His knees buckle, and she slowly kneels down on the ground, pushing herself against the wall, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and whispering gentle words to soothe him.
He brokenly sobs into her ear about the man he's killed – the life he selfishly took – and the nonexistent blood staining his hands that won't come off, no matter how hard he washes them.
"I'm sorry," he whispers again that night (was it the thirteenth or the thirtieth time in the last two months?), nestled under the crook of her arm, refusing to meet her gaze. "I-I'm so weak, I know, but…"
"Don't, Obito-san," she says, hugging him closer.
They lay in silence, staring up at the ceiling. The only sound that breaks through the quiet between them was the harsh flow of water trickling out of the tap. It's not a safe haven – the strong smell of disinfectant and the sight of the yellowing tiles are not welcoming or comforting in the slightest – but they both find themselves in the same spot every time.
She's too impervious to it all too really feel anything about it now. Obito doesn't talk about it once the smile in on his face and he's that exhaustive ball of energy again. Sometimes she wants him to crack and tell her things; what he's feeling, what happened, and why he tries to cover it up, but still cries on her shoulder. It's tiring and she hates how easily it fits into her daily routine, but there's nothing she can do about it.
"You're not weak," she mutters, edging her words in quickly before he regained control of himself and covered it up with faux grins in a futile attempt to placate her.
"You probably think I'm a cry-baby." He wipes his hand across his face, sniffling quietly to himself. "Or a monster."
She turns her head, forcing him to look at her. "I'd never think you were a monster, Obito-san-"
"Yeah, right," he cuts in, breaking away from her embrace. "I-I killed people, Rin-chan…Innocent people who didn't deserve it, all because someone told me to."
Rin grabs his shoulders, twisting around to face him fully. His eyes are wide when her hand moves up and taps him lightly on the cheek. It's not a slap – it doesn't even hurt – but the simple act and suddenness of it all makes him stop and stare wordless at her.
"If you didn't come to me crying every time you killed someone, Obito-san, then I'd really think you were a monster." She rubs her fingers against the clammy spot on his cheek where she tapped him, trying to convey what she was feeling. "If you didn't feel such remorse for you actions, then I'd think you were a monster. But because you cry for every life you take, it makes you a stronger person, Obito-san."
"R-Rin-chan…"
"Don't ever call yourself weak or a monster again, do you hear me? Only a monster would ignore the regret of his actions and not feel anything for them. A truly weak person would ignore it."
He pulls her in close, hugging her tightly to his chest. "I-I'm sorry, Rin-chan."
"There's nothing to be sorry about…"
They sit on the washroom floor, saying nothing and mulling over the words that were said. She wishes she could take the pain away, but there was nothing she could do except hold him and comfort him when he needed it.
"Thank you, Rin-chan," he's smiling again, and stands up, offering her a hand.
It's become a twisted ritual between them: Obito would lock himself up, scrubbing his hands raw until they bled, and she would find him, and they would sit together for hours, saying nothing until the last sniffle came out and he was grinning again. She hates it so much, hates how broken he looks after every mission he goes on, and it breaks her to watch the immunity to it all build up over time.
Rin's not oblivious to the hardships of being a ninja. Killing wasn't optional, it was a necessity. She hated seeing the way Obito suffered for these testaments; his shoulders would slump, his eyes would fill with tears, and the heaving sobs wrenched her heart every time. It never got any easier – it only became routine.
"Anytime," she whispers, closing the washroom door behind them. Just like that, they're both back to being Rin and Obito; all traces that this ever happened was washed down the drain and locked away with the dull sounding thud the door makes when the hinges catch on the handle. "Let's go get something to eat, okay?"
The wooden door acts as a barrier between them; an impenetrable object that doesn't linger in their regular life until it's once again opened, and she finds herself huddled on the floor, holding Obito as he sobbed over the lives he'd taken. Sometimes she thankful that it's in place, unopened and keeping everything neatly separated.
Other times, she wishes it never existed.
"Can we get ramen, Rin-chan?" He asks, tugging her out the door.
She smiles, and nods. "Whatever you want, Obito-san."
"Awesome!"
The only proof that any of this ever happened are their bloodshot eyes, Obito's raw hands, and the pinkish streaks staining the white porcelain skin that never seem to come off, no matter how hard they scrub.
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note3: it may seem as though the subject of killing is barely touched upon, but i though subtlety would work better than graphic depiction.
note4: i hope you enjoyed it! (=