Author's Note: It's no excuse, but I really have been busy lately and writing somehow ends up slipping down down down on the priority list. But I'm proud to say that I'm slowly but surely getting my act back together, and naturally that includes catching up on the manga. I would hate to spoil it for anyone, but holy macaroni, could things get any weirder?! Kishimoto-sensei, I admire you a lot, but at the moment I am extremely annoyed with you for messing with the timeline yet again.
Chapter Twelve
Under
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It's taking too long, she thinks to herself as she watches his consciousness waver and slowly go out.
(Why is it taking so long?)
But she doesn't have time to pursue this line of thought much further, because Kakashi finally slumps forward, pale as a ghost and limp as a ragdoll. She doesn't even flinch when his shoulder, which is much too bony for a jounin, let alone a teammate (and what kind of a healer is she who only notices this now!) rams into hers. Gravity and the sudden onslaught of light-headedness push her back, but she grits her teeth, stands firm and lets him settle against her in an awkward almost-embrace.
He is close now, so close. His head weighs heavy on her shoulder, steady puffs of hot air tickle the side of her throat even through the fabric of his mask, and he smells so much like living, breathing boy that it almost hurts. But Rin tells herself to ignore all that and focus, because now is not the time. Now is to Konoha and their mission and putting Kakashi back together so that she doesn't end up losing him as well.
She knows that she must be quick, and Kakashi groans through his chakra-induced sleep as she reaches across his body for his left arm, deftly manoeuvring it to loop around her neck. She also knows that she must be hurting him – after all, who better to know the exact locations of all the cuts and bruises running across his skin and under his clothes – but Rin is a medical-nin and knows knows knows that she can't afford to take such petty things as discomfort and personal space into consideration right now.
(She can't. Not even for him.)
Besides, she has learnt to be grateful for pain in her injured, especially when out in the field, because as long as there is pain, it's not too late.
So she takes a deep breath, digs her heels into the dirt and somehow finds the strength to push them both up on their feet. Kakashi sways dangerously, and she only manages about four steps before the burden on her shoulders suddenly lifts altogether.
"Where to?"
She motions to a sunny spot between two trees, and it doesn't surprise her in the least when sensei hesitates. It's far from ideal, she knows. It leaves them wide open to attacks from far too many angles to be safe or even remotely sensible, but it can't be helped:
Kakashi is in need of urgent treatment, and Rin needs light to administer it.
"It was the right thing to do," says Minato-sensei quietly as she moves to sweep Kakashi's hair away from his face. "He couldn't tell that I was watching."
She instantly halts her ministrations, Kakashi's forehead protector still clutched in her hands. He had certainly acted strange earlier – first refusing to let her anywhere near his eye, then insisting on staring blankly into the distance once he had – but Kakashi could be part-ninken for his sensitive nose, not to mention the ugly rumours about him that Rin does her best to ignore, and his ability to sense chakra is second only to sensei's, so surely—
"You tensed, but Kakashi…" Sensei trails off, and her grip around Kakashi's hitai-ate tightens. "Kakashi didn't react to my presence at all."
She stares down at her unconscious teammate as sensei's words unravel themselves more fully in her mind, and she suddenly feels sick sick sick and so utterly useless – even after all this, why is she still so useless? why? – because what does this mean what is happening what is she doing wrong and oh God what else has she missed? What—
Stop. Stop it. Stop. Stop. Stop. You know better. Don't panic. Don't you dare letting everyone down now. You know what to do. So breathe, Rin. Breathe.
(Breathe in.)
Try harder. Don't be a burden to sensei.
(Breathe out.)
Slower, slower. Kakashi needs you to be calm.
(Breathe in.)
Good. Now deeper. That's better.
(Breathe out.)
Good girl.
(Breathe in.)
Make Obito proud.
(Breathe out.)
Breathe. Just keep breathing and never, ever stop.
So she does. She breathes, and when she moves to undo the first roll of fresh gauze, her hands are mostly steady.
"Rin?"
She heeds sensei's unspoken question straightaway, and she wishes that she had something definite to tell him. But she doesn't.
"...I don't know," she replies quite truthfully, because right now she can't say anything for certain. "But I think it's hurting him."
Minato-sensei looks thoughtful. "Could you take the Sharingan out?" he asks.
She hesitates. It's not so much that sensei's suggestion doesn't make logical sense, because it does. It's just that… "Obito. The Sharingan, it—"
"A memento, I know." Sensei smiles apologetically. "But can Kakashi really fight like this?"
"Yes," she says, simply but firmly, because Kakashi can and that is all there is to it.
(Because unlike Minato-sensei, she has seen with her own two eyes exactly what Kakashi can do with Obito's gift. But sometimes only seeing is believing, and that holds especially true for shinobi.)
"In that case, this can't happen again." Sensei looks grim. "We might not be so lucky next time."
She swallows hard. They are a Leaf cell infiltrating Iws territory, each step taking them closer and closer to a vital strategic point, enemy patrols are likely to be scattered all over the area and they could be discovered at any time; lucky is an understatement.
"I wonder…" Minato-sensei crosses his arms over his chest. "Could the Sharingan be draining him of chakra?"
Rin frowns, but supposes that it's plausible. Obito's eye is a bloodline limit compatible with only a small number of people, all Uchiha, but even then—
"To put him in this state, you had to overload Kakashi's normal chakra circulation."
This is not a question, and Rin grows cold.
"How much of your chakra did you use to put him under?" asks sensei slowly. "Rin, how much did you use?"
"Minato-sensei, I—" She looks down at her hands. "It… Nearly all I had left," she admits.
(Which was too much, she knows. Far too much for such a simple procedure.)
Sensei just looks at her for a long moment. "I don't need to tell you how reckless that was," he says at last. "You put yourself in a lot of danger."
She hangs her head in shame. She knows that sensei isn't angry at her for wanting to help a teammate, but she can tell that he is disappointed that she rushed in without thinking things through, and that is almost worse.
Still, what is done is done. They have to keep moving forwards, and even if they can't, they must at least try.
So she reaches for one of the hidden pockets sewn into her left sleeve, extracting a small black capsule from the invisible fold. She forces herself to bite down on it, grimacing when the content coats the inside of her mouth and throat with its thick, ugly taste of nothing. Konoha's soldier pills are oily and bitter and perfectly disgusting, but they are also potent and life-saving; and she supposes that she ought to be more grateful to the members of the Research and Development Department for their hard work.
(After all, just the one pill is enough to keep her going for the next few days and their mission should hopefully be over by then, shouldn't it?)
"Hyourougan…" Sensei frowns and rakes a hand through his blonde hair. "Rin, could this work on Kakashi?"
She stares at him stupidly for a few seconds before the ryou finally drops: Obito's Sharingan. Kakashi's unusually low chakra supply. The soldier pill and its chakra-replenishing properties.
And Rin suddenly feels extremely foolish. But then, everyone in the village knows that Minato-sensei is brilliant.
(So, so brilliant.)
"Maybe," she says, a bit shakily, because this maybe is a hypothetical one at best. Most things come at a risk, and this in particular could go horribly, horribly wrong in more ways than she even dares to think about.
(But on the other hand, she already transplanted a Sharingan eye and surely that ought to count for something.)
"—if the balance is struck right, then it just might."