Exhaustion is a severe understatement. Physical and mental tiredness are separated into their own categories when measuring how fatigued someone is. But the combining components of both often brings forth a sensation of weariness that cannot be described.
At least, this is what Honoka thinks.
Her body is worn, severely used as punishment for her disobedience and rebel against Root. But her conscious is unusually blank, despite the mental strain of recent events.
Bruised, battered and alone, she leaves the lodge in discontentment. A flurry of thoughts follow her to the alleyway's end, murmuring words of disproval as she leaves a malicious Lord Mizuku to his sleep. She will pay for it, she knows, but the punishment she gets will not outweigh the consequences she had for her recent wrongdoing.
Her actions may have turned out for the better, considering the night's chilling atmosphere. Its coldness is a deterrent to her deleterious mindset, abolishing the physical feelings of brutality that resides deep in her middle.
The stilled darkness may be unsettling, but it provides a thin veil of comfort only her mind can appreciate.
By the training grounds, there is only one person at practice.
Honoka watches him for a long time. The accuracy of his aim and the perfection of his movements epitomise that of a true prodigy. Yet the humbleness he exhibits begin with the subtleness of his discreet training.
When the world is not watching and the darkness of the night shields his visibility, Shisui showcases a spectacular display of sheer power. Despite her civilian status, Honoka senses the differing levels of chakra. Shisui's is that soundless energy that evokes a haunting aura of enigmatic strength. Yet the gentleness is so strongly congruent with his personality, the intense power is easily overlooked.
Even as she stands and relishes in his presence, it is not enough to satisfy the discomforting feeling of constriction in her chest. But as Shisui gradually slows in his movements, Honoka's curiosity piques. She remains relatively still, until Shisui collapses to the ground and she is forced to close the distance between them.
Whether he falls from exhaustion or some other matter, Honoka's level of caution heightens.
"Excuse me, Shisui?" She says tentatively.
No answer.
Perhaps he did not hear her?
Their surrounding is too dark for a glimpse of his unconscious face.
At this point, Honoka kneels beside him and watches curiously for several minutes. She anticipates a sudden recoil, a startled reaction to her hovering presence. But Shisui remains disconcertingly still.
When she reaches for him, the radiating heat singes.
Without thinking, she disappears into the night.
x
Returning with a multitude of books in hand, ten minutes have already passed. Honoka is now faced with an unusual conundrum. She is no doctor nor a medical specialist, but she is a toxicologist. Her specialty lies within the fascinating world of chemicals and their interactions with mammalian cells. But her work and level of understanding extends only to compounds in test tubes, not the human body.
In that case, she must risk it on trial and error.
"If the person is unwell and unresponsive to any form of stimulation, take them to a hospital immediately," Honoka reads.
She pauses.
"That won't do," she frowns and throws Sickness and Health: Encyclopaedia to the side.
Her colleagues enjoy loitering around the hospital at this hour, particularly during their night shifts. Honoka cannot risk being seen, not when Shisui is involved.
"Carefully measure their temperature. If you do not have the appropriate tools, place your hand on the person's forehead and the other on yours. This will give you a rough comparison (*please note, this will not work if you both have a fever!)."
She stares wildly at Shisui's forehead protector, an object that warrants careful thought, considering its sentimental value. But she is unsure if her impending action is a cause for disrespect.
Honoka has learnt to minimise her reliance on information she believes to be socially appropriate, because most times, it is not.
"There is nothing in here that says anything of ninjas," she speaks thoughtfully.
For the sake of Shisui's health, Honoka decides against her pondering mind. She removes the protector.
True to the book, she can feel the differing temperatures between them. Her forehead is significantly cooler than Shisui's searing skin. Untrue to such information, however, is the rapid drop in heat and the sudden changes within the space of several seconds.
Even with Honoka's hand placed timidly against Shisui's forehead, she feels the evaporation of heat and the settling of chilling, cold sweat.
Frantic, she swiftly churns through the pages.
"Hello Shisui?" She says anxiously.
She continues to shake him, hopeful for a response. When he remains unresponsive, the unease disseminates against her in rapid successions.
Against her mind's persistent protest and the fear that accompanies uncertainty, she decides to take him to the hospital.
Expectation, however, is vastly different from reality. Assisting someone may be one thing, but attempts at dragging dead weight is another.
Honoka tries. Her small form struggles to even pull Shisui to a sitting position.
He is so heavy…
"Pardon my intrusion, Shisui, but I believe it is not good for you to stay here. I think it is pragmatic that you seek medical treatment," she breathes.
The comment passes through his unconscious body and nonchalantly into cold air.
Honoka is seldom frustrated, yet she feels a rising level of vexation and discouragement swelling from the depths of her chest.
Her attempts at even moving Shisui an inch from his sitting position proves futile. She does not have the strength nor the stamina to push forward.
The apprehension of what her colleagues may do if she is seen with an unconscious Shisui intermixes ferociously with the desperation to help him. The internal battle weakens her, and as time passes, she ends up collapsing in exhaustion.
"Why can I not do anything?" She whispers despondently.
Even as she lies there, the helplessness sinks through with remarkable ease.
It is rare that she finds herself incapable of solving difficult and complex problems. Within the laboratory, the solution is several formulas away.
There will always be academic books to back her. But in this situation, she has the books, yet no equipment and no physical strength.
Pressed dismally against the cool patch of grass, she stares mindlessly at the scattered books around her. Even with this much information, she still cannot help someone in need. Perhaps she never thought of having to provide assistance? She has always done things on command rather than out of her own free will.
But the urge to protect is so strong, the uncomfortable, alien-like feeling resurfaces. It may be traces of grief or dread. But either way, she does not recognise such emotions, and the more she is in Shisui's presence, the more she is exposed to these unaccustomed feelings.
"When in dire circumstances, keep the person warm - ensuring that you do not overheat them," she reads quietly.
The books are opened before her, and it may be the wind, or the position of the moon, but it is almost a coincidence she is reading and absorbing that particular sentence in her current state.
With very little strength left, she gives it one last try. This time, she successfully moves Shisui towards the tree and rests him against the thickened trunk.
"I did it," she murmurs breathlessly.
Then, out of pure desire to shelter him from the elements, she embraces him, albeit tentatively, until gravity drags his upper body towards her and he is reposing heavily against her chest.
Initially unsettled, Honoka relents to the uncertain situation. This is the first time in so long she has been this close to Shisui.
The feeling is an unfathomable aura of placidity that plagues her insides. His warmth is like a disconnected sense of security, as if she is relishing in something she does not deserve or cheated her way through a complex problem. Her pride sits deeply with the latter. She views her circumstance with Shisui as an unsolvable, impractical problem. A problem is either solved or left unsolved. Never cheated.
Honoka never wishes to remove herself from the selfish comfort of her situation. Shisui may be showing signs of recovery, but Honoka is reluctant to release him from her hold.
Unconsciously, her body leans possessively into him, as if afraid her mind will suddenly deprive her of this contact.
She does not fully understand the strange sensation that accompanies the conflicting thoughts of guilt and comfort. The confusion suffuses her, and keeps her awake in a pool of unease.
And it is only when Shisui stirs and unconsciously readjusts that Honoka breaks from her mental trance.
The rigidity in his posture dissolves, a sure indicator that he is now asleep rather than unconscious.
And though relief settles, there is that liquifying sensation of fear and dread that hovers ever so passively.
Whether Honoka is too socially inept to make sense of these feelings, or whether she refuses to acknowledge its presence, her attachment to Shisui runs dangerously deep.
No matter how much she forces herself to remove his existence from her mind, the brief kindness and acceptance she received from him is more than enough to risk a lifetime's worth of her sanity.