Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[. . .]

"Rin...?"

[. . .]

Prologue

He Ate My Heart

[. . .]

There's a light in front of her.

She stands before it, silent without purpose. Waiting for nothing. Feeling nothing.

It does not burn her eyes as the sun would have. It does not hurt her.

She doesn't dare tear her eyes away from it either, so she just stares, considering absolutely nothing around her. Not the void, nor the cosmos of rippling nebula giving birth to a newer life. Dying, and returning.

It's peaceful. The light basks her with opportunity, eliciting a comfort of frivolity between the pitch shades of black that cover her very essence.

She can't feel her body. Not her skin, not her clothes, not her eyes or her hair, or the construction of her features. She can't perceive anything but the light.

But it beckons her nonetheless, unaware that she's steadily refusing it and slowly turning her vision beyond what lies behind it.

Time isn't calculated here. Wherever she is. She doesn't know how long it takes her to set her sights elsewhere, but she doesn't sit and ponder about that, for she is far more interested in the golden, sparkling streaks that pulsate a pathway to other sources of light. Inquisitive, whereas she can't perceive curiosity, or awe, just reality.

It's beautiful, but she doesn't think that.

It's not home, but she doesn't think that.

And while she doesn't see the millennia of souls that walk to her comforting light, she dances in minuscule whisps of smoke, moving away from it and onto another, that calls with greater force. Crimson cords whelve into her heart, endeavoring to bring her attention to the rays again, but it is futile.

It's a tug between the two. Where her light implores for her return as if saying that it isn't your time yet, the other welcomes her, pellucid compared to her yonder.

Eunoia, it whispers, come forth.

Schlemiel, her light mourns, come back.

She can hear it, and she can't ignore it, but she also can't look back.

A mother, it sounds like.

But a mother it is not.

Her pace steadies until the red lines finally let go, and her images lose pigment. Pain blossoms from her chest in streaks of agonizing red, but she doesn't heed it.

It's not there. She is not tethered to her soul anymore.

She continues into the dark inbetweens.

It's just a black canvas with one, grey light, and the voices shamefully churn into themselves, finally leaving her alone.

There are giant, grotesque beings watching her separate from her line of existence that appear when she lets ignorance go, entitling her to step in line with the many souls that gather around this new, grey light.

Red lines reach into her tender chest and seize her heart, burning her into flames that feel like lava enveloping the stardust she is made out of. Memories surge but cease instantly.

The malformed creatures no longer appear. They do not watch her. They do not speak.

She doesn't know or care why others simply walk in without the baggage of these scorching strings, for color has returned and placed her in front of a glaucous light. It's not so benevolent, and it's almost a portent, muttering an ancient language she cannot possibly decipher.

Shapes come together to form a non-sentient being.

Eyes surround wings of an abominable nature, one that surveys power, staring intently at her. It speaks, but she cannot implore herself to feel or care. Hands come forward in silent prayers, and it's all she sees as she is rushed forward into the light, sinking red eyes into her visionary illusions and a pumping chant that warns her.

Calliopean, psithurism breezes cradle her gerful entity.

White is all she perceives as she falls, as if aliferous.

And she lands.

And nothing prepares her for when she opens her eyes, gasping for breath.

[. . .]

Her body twitches, spasming her organs and rearranging broken bones into their rightful place.

It's agony, and her mouth opens to let out a silent scream, pronouncing her shriveled face, holding wide, blood-red eyes begging for mercy in the sky. Her prayers, any words that may frivolously appear in her mind chant, but they are not heard.

Her body lays unmoving due to the pain. It is so severe that she passes out, erupting disgusting squelches of vomit right before she does. Darkness covers her eyes but the pain continues from her chest, and she dreams helplessly of what was, aching underneath lakes of blood.

When she opens her eyes again, her body is shivering cold, sore, and rancid.

She smells like something died, of vomit and blood and rotting innards. Her mouth opens to sob because she's scared and she's confused, but all that comes out is a choked hoarse, sounding like a dying whine.

Her vocal cords scream in misery and she dares not speak again as she lays there, laboriously breathing in an attempt to keep herself alive.

It takes her hours to form even a semblance of coherency, and when she does, the first thing she grasps is the moonbroch in the night sky.

Clouds pick at her face, milking rain, and terrifying colds.

It's a captivating sight, but she knows something is wrong.

Fearful, she tests her arm and successfully moves it over her bare chest. Her fingers prod lightly at the raw skin, and her heart slows in relief when she finds that it doesn't hurt. Her heart skips beats every now and then after that revelation, but they slowly cease, and she allows herself to calm in the comfort of her torn clothes.

It's tranquil for another hour when she abruptly comes back to her body with a breaking sob.

Her eyes burn and she closes them, letting the rain mend with her distressing tears, callous that she sounds like a moribund pup as her entire form convulses with despair.

Her mind runs through everything she experienced; the car crash, the glass in her chest, the sight of her mother in disarray—the void, the light, and the nightmarish creatures she saw.

She remembers and begs for her mother in this vulnerable moment, calling her soul out to reunite with the woman that has brought the only comfort in her life. But her fate is cruel, and her mother is not here to embrace her.

She cries, endlessly until she can't feel anything but the wet, lucid stench of rain pelting her skin. She cries until she doesn't anymore.

Her head hurts, and there are other memories that whisk with her painful ones, but she can't bring herself to understand them. Her body is exhausted. Her sanity is Sisyphean, unrequited with reality but bound to dissociation.

Yet still, there is a growing part of her that makes her mind restless.

Two boys flash in her sight in fleeting images; a crying boy with grey hair, and another bloody one, whispering frantically for her recovery. One clutches the heart in her chest, but the other harbors her in his arms.

She doesn't understand, and she doesn't hope to.

She simply lays, lost and numb, lingering.

Time passes but she is unmoving.

The only thing that echoes is her name from their mouth.

Rin.

Chapter Text

[. . .]

"I'm dead."

[. . .]

Chapter 1

Blood In My Lungs

[. . .]

Rin.

Rin.

Rin.

Someone's voice kept at it in repetition like a sordid pestilence within her distorted cranium, pulling at her sanity beneath layers of abysmal tacenda. The voices multiplied, growing the more she kept herself awake in this sky, drowning her in flashes of things she had lived, had died, twice, now. The rain had stopped pouring onto her, but the damage was done, the water remained. Her clothes were soaked to the brim, and she wondered if she really was choking on the dampness of unwanted memories.

It mattered not.

She lay on the muddy terrain covered in muck and blood, emptily staring at the sky that shifted from day to night. Stars dared fool her whelved hope, but she couldn't feel an inch of anything. Restless thoughts prodded at her mushed brain but she wasn't coherent enough to appropriately gauge them. Her entirety was of pure solace—of nothing, and yet of all.

It was a torturous process.

Her mind liked talking, but it wasn't hers.

It couldn't be.

But she let it. She allowed it to simmer in madness, in vacancy, in mourning.

I am not Rin, she said.

The screams that echoed had made her learn one thing: never to say those words again. They had been cruel; she saw the crying boys again for her dubious impudence. Her heart ached, and an imaginary hand clutched it tight, electrifying her ruined crimson. The sensation was so real she convulsed. She felt like she had died again, but it stopped.

It stopped.

A day went by when she decided every minuscule pain that kept regenerating achingly after her sinister agony was enough for her to move.

Her hands came first; from the root of her finger to the tip of her shoulder, she rolled her arm and gently maneuvered it to lay across her stomach with the other one. She did the same with her other arm, testing it, questioning why someone kept screaming at her to move and do something. She felt rage, but it wasn't hers.

When she finally stood on sinking legs, she collapsed.

She spent another hour getting herself up.

Something warm and pinching pulled at the sores of her muscles, but she stood all the same, successful.

She leaned against a tree and kept her gaze down. The eternal sky was now replaced by the grounded oblivion of Earth. But instead of green, there was brown. And Red.

So much red.

Organs. At least, pieces of it from what she could see. Blood was there too, and vomit.

Were those hers?

She didn't know.

She didn't care to know.

A gurgle of her stomach, eating itself she was sure, did little to focus her back on what the voice in her head had planned.

Find your teammates.

She didn't know who they were. She wasn't in a team. She didn't know anything.

Please.

She continued staring hollowly at the earth, fixing her eyes on the little details it provided. All the while the voices stewed in their sadness, mixing unhelpfully with an agitation that was starting to poison her. The overwhelming feeling of precipice engorged her lungs and pressed hard, and she doubled over, blinking with teary eyes as she puked something red.

Move.

Move.

Move.

Her body straightened.

Please, move.

She took her first step and felt something squishy squelch beneath her foot.

The voices quieted.

Nohara Rin—no, her name had been something else, she was sure of it—then continued to walk a lifeless path through the frigid woods underneath the scoured obscureness of the moon for the next several hours. No ounce of light bathed her skin, for she was covered with her mortal waste, hidden underneath the talking trees.

Colorful sanguine and retch countered with sticky goo that looked like pieces of meat clung to her stricken flesh, but she was mindless of that feat, simply moving in a direction she had no semblance to. She wasn't looking forward. Her hands grasped at her shorn clothes, at her stomach, at the trees. Her body moved in command with someone else, but it felt like her.

But it wasn't hers.

She didn't care. Whoever talked to her clearly did, but she didn't.

But she listened because fighting it was inoperable. It wasn't like she wanted to, anyway.

Not that she could have. She wasn't alive, truly.

Your teammates. Find them.

Her eyes glazed. She never turned her head away from the terrain.

She walked, unfeeling of her body, uncaring of her dire state of undress. Edges of a black shirt exposed a small chest and pink scar, down to her stomach. Her eyes decided to scrutinize that revelation—how her head was slowly waking up with every boiling step she took, how her calloused fingers poked at black lines burned onto the flesh of her abdomen—and she stopped.

Who am I?

She blinked the crust from her heavy lids.

Nohara Rin, they said.

That wasn't her name.

"It is," She said out loud.

It's not.

Her vision swam. Her head felt heavy.

Move. They urged.

Find your teammates.

Her nonverbal protests were for naught. One day in the woods became two, and two became three. She never stopped. Red lines of energy pushed her, and though she had fallen various times, out of breath and on the brink of death, her body refused to give in. She didn't know how long she walked after her fifth descent into the grave. But by the time she heard people talking, she was covered in sweat with a blaring sun overhead, standing in front of a girl with black hair and wide eyes.

She hadn't even noticed she stepped into a small village.

She hadn't noticed the girl walking with a basket and herbs outside the perimeter when she bumped into her.

Nobody else had noticed her.

"Oh, oh Sage!" The girl fussed, grabbing her as whatever control in her body gave up, causing her to lean onto the stranger. "Are you okay!? Oh no—You—I'll help you!" The girl seemed on the verge of hysterical tears.

Nohara Rin—was that her?—gulped ragged breaths in response. She had no words to reassure her. She was not alive. This was not real.

I don't want to be here.

Her eyes closed and the darkness consumed her. Someone jumbled her body away.

It's too late.

Freedom succumbed to her.

[. . .]

She woke up to the girl.

She was fiddling with something next to her—she didn't know what—anxious. Rin—again, it wasn't her name—felt the deadly weight of something dull and heavy on her head, trying to reorient herself into the present time. It was incredibly difficult, and Rin didn't know why everything was so soft and quiet.

The darkness was a peace she had been rid of, and now she was here, somewhere.

Where?

She didn't know.

The voices had not answered.

When the girl looked over at her, she jumped. "You're awake!" She rushed, setting a jar full of liquid carefully back onto a small wooden table.

Rin—I can't be Rin—said nothing. Her entire body was warm, and her pain was gone, if a little suppressed. It felt like drugs.

Am I drugged?

She felt weak.

"Um... I'll call Lady Tsunade okay? You're at the clinic."

Rin had an answer to where she was. A clinic, the disembodied voice said with something akin to relief. You're okay. The pasty walls and the smell of rancid fumes mixed in with antiseptic wasn't a pleasant tranquility worth feeling. Not like Rin knew how she felt. She didn't feel... anything.

She did not know who Lady Tsunade was. She knew this girl, though. She knew her because she had been the one to help her.

How desperate are you?

"My teammates," She tried to say, but nothing came out. Instead, she coughed and felt something metallic, twisted with goo, rise from her esophagus.

The girl panicked when Rin vomited blood again.

Again, she couldn't say anything.

She was gone to the world.

[. . .]

Rin woke up feeling nothing.

Physically, emotionally, and overall.

Nothing.

Her eyes had focused thoroughly, landing on a woman.

An angry woman.

"You're up," She snapped, blaring brown eyes blinking under a haze. It smelled like alcohol in the room.

Rin said nothing.

The girl, awkward and her savior, came inside at that moment with a tray. It had a bowl of steaming liquid and a cup of something. Food, if Rin cared enough to check.

I'm not Rin.

Only a whisper hissing otherwise answered her this time.

"The food's done," The girl declared softly and then gasped when she saw that she was awake. "You're awake! You've been out for five days—"

"Good. After you eat, I want you out," The lady interrupted the girl, imposing and cruel.

Rin blinked slowly at that.

"B-But... Lady Tsunade," The girl whispered from behind, pleading. It wasn't at her she was telling her ruthless words to, Rin knew.

It didn't matter.

"Okay," Rin said, dead. There was no life in her eyes, nor was there any form of pleading.

My teammates, she told herself.

Your teammates.

At that, the lady with her generous cleavage and intimidating aura stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. It was harsh.

Rin didn't care.

"I'm sorry."

Rin regarded the girl who saved her life.

Did I want to be saved?

"It's okay," Someone else answered for her. It sounded like her, but she hadn't spoken. Rin must have. You are Rin, they pleaded.

"She... She patched you up," The girl informed, walking to her hesitantly. "It... I did most of the work, though. But! But she did it better, she fixed it. So. So you're fine now," The girl assured.

Rin said nothing as she set up the tray somewhere she wouldn't spill the contents on.

When the girl finished, she awkwardly fiddled with her fingers. "I'm... Shizune. What's your name?"

Rin went blank.

What is my name?

"...I don't know," She said truthfully.

Rin, someone spoke. Say Rin.

"Rin," She said.

Shizune, her savior, blinked. "R-Rin?" She whispered, furrowing her brows. "I think... I think I knew a Rin. Did you...? Are you from Konoha?"

Konoha?

Say yes.

"...I don't know," Rin answered.

Say yes. They said.

"Yes," Rin corrected.

Shizune's eyes widened.

"Wh... What are you doing out here all alone?" Shizune asked, lifting her hands to reach over and resettle her upright on the bed. Rin watched this all with unfound silence. What was she to do? Flinch because she was being touched and talking to something other than the cruelty of death's embrace?

Captured, someone answered her.

"I was captured," Rin repeated.

Shizune gasped. "Who? How did you get away? Why?"

Rin noticed that the girl rearranging the utensils had a shiny gleam in her eye. Like she had a purpose of being here. Was she gathering information to provide a suitable use to whoever that woman had been? Was she gathering information for nonsensical methods like torture and the like? Or was she just simply interested in talking?

Rin didn't know.

Rin didn't care.

I'm not...

"Don't remember," She said honestly. Her tone was as clipped as she felt.

Shizune seemed to notice it. "W-Well... When you're all better, you can go back to Konoha! Lady Tsunade didn't mean it when she said you needed to get out right away," She said happily, smiling nervously as she grabbed the bowl and inserted a spoon inside it. It smelled like boiled potato and cilantro. "I'll ask her if you can stay. She'll say yes because... Because I said so," Shizune huffed, puffing her cheeks when she glanced at the door.

Rin had also felt the erratic chakra signature.

Chakra signature?

She didn't know what that was.

"But... don't tell her I said that," Shizune whispered playfully as she scooped a plentiful spoonful onto the metal utensil. She inched it closer to Rin's face, blowing on it lightly. "Now, here. You haven't eaten in... forever I think. You look super skinny. I healed your stomach enough to process the broth, so don't worry! Everything is soft." Shizune gave her an encouraging smile.

Rin—could I be?—gazed upon it emptily.

She had no idea why she existed.

She knew so much.

"...I'm tired," Rin admitted before she accepted the spoonful in her mouth.

All Shizune had to say for that was to finish her food if she had the strength to feed herself before she entered slumber again.

Rin preferred to take it how things went.

My teammates, her head kept repeating.

She had none.

She was not Rin.

I could be, she thought, finally, on her own when Shizune left her with a flower.

[. . .]

Rin didn't know how long time passed.

She slept, she ate, and she even got a chance to shower when Shizune approved her for walking. Oddly enough, her body was plenty strong. Her strength had been completely eradicated before, but she could stand without a sway of her feet producing tangles of fainting episodes. Even Shizune was impressed by that, but the scared look on her appearance wasn't very reassuring.

Especially when, on what Rin assumed was the third night since she was first fed, she was unclothing in front of her to shower and Shizune had shakily pointed out the glowing permeance on her stomach.

A variety of symbols.

A seal, someone whispered.

A Cage.

Shizune had run out of the room and left her standing there by the dripping showerhead.

Rin made no intention to move. She continued staring vacantly at the door her friend ran out of, waiting for something.

And wait she did for ten minutes until Lady Tsunade of the Sannin came bursting through the door, sneering.

"I can't catch a fucking break," She growled lowly, stalking toward her with cautious intent. Rin allowed the woman to come close and probe her stomach, uncaring if she was completely nude. This woman was a doctor.

The touch was surprisingly gentle.

"A fault seal," Tsunade grumbled, narrowing her eyes. She lifted her head to glower viciously at her. She smelled like whiskey and clean roses. "Why the hell didn't you say anything, girl?"

Rin had no idea she had to.

Didn't know, someone answered.

"I didn't know," Rin said, and for once she felt like she was telling the truth.

"Fuck's sake," Tsunade hissed, standing quickly. She rubbed her temples with squeezed eyes.

Rin watched. Shizune observed from the back, the door slightly creaked open.

She'll help, someone wanted to assure.

Rin didn't give two shits what was going on with her.

The world wasn't present yet. She wasn't quite alive just yet.

As far as she was aware, she was a corpse brought back from the dead.

"A miracle we didn't fucking die," The blonde woman snarled, walking out of the door briskly. Whatever else she said wasn't captured by Rin's ears. She was gone and moving things around, calling for Shizune's help as well. The girl offered a sad look in her direction before she departed to do what she needed to do that Rin didn't quite know what to do with.

Sanbi, someone said.

ISOBU!

Rin clutched her head, hissing.

Something on her stomach burned.

The world's reality warped.

It tumbled, stabbed her forward, and landed her in front of a half-set of spiky, white maws. The image was fuzzy but dark enough to become a series of bloody messes that involved her being torn to shreds, just to end because she was still present, gazing upon this... thing. A kaleidoscope of designs materialized before time refocused on her entirety once again.

She heard a girl sobbing in the corner but she didn't move to acknowledge it.

"You," The thing spoke. One eye. Half of it's body. "You split me in half. I was becoming one again with a new host. And you returned. Half of me was torn and put into you. Ungrateful," It snarled, but she didn't move.

She didn't know what to say to it.

"You are not from this world."

She looked down at the bloody water. "...No I don't think so," She responded honestly.

Flashes of a past and beings of unreal proportion cascade like vermillion promises around her.

The thing stayed silent, surveying.

Then, "Why are you here?"

Why was she here?

"I don't know. I didn't do anything," She answered blandly, trying to breathe. Her chest did not move in this dreamscape.

She was dead.

I'm dead.

It said nothing.

As fast as she came to, the thing snapped its jaws around her and swallowed.

[. . .]

She was waking up from death far too much and far too easily.

Visions of a boy with black hair reaching his shoulders transcended her nightmare realm, holding her close to him. The smell of acid iron perverted the ambiance and his single red eye gazed upon her with a mourning so absolute it had broken her heart enough to feel. Horns of wood sprouted and surrounded them both.

"Rin..." He begged, and he cried silently. Droplets of blood speckled her cheek and dribbled on top of her lips, parting to gurgle nonsensical words.

I'm right here. She tried saying.

Nothing came out.

"Rin!"

Her eyes snapped open and a bright light hissed at her eyes. She squinted immediately, blinking as tears gathered in her orbs to soothe the sting.

"Oh... thank goodness! I thought..." The voice of Shizune grabbed her attention and Rin risked a glance, angling her head and stiffening when arms embraced her.

She didn't move to recollect the hug so freely given.

Instead, her adjusting eyes blinked into focus to two figures talking amongst each other just far in the corner of the room.

"Aw, c'mon Hime... This is... This is news! We can't just—"

"The girl doesn't want to be known, idiot. She doesn't remember anything. Her memories are fucked."

"But that's why we need to get her back to Konoha immediately! She needs—"

"They're fucking incompetent. They won't be able to do jack shit there. I'm the Best damn Medic this world's got, and my verdict remains. I'm not arguing." Tsunade held up a fist as a warning, waving it in front of her to the man who held both his arms up in surrender. Almost as if sensing her intense gaze, the blonde woman whipped her head around to face her. Different shades of brown clashed against each other.

Rin stared back, hearing Shizune's heartbeat tune with hers. The man with long white hair blinked in surprise and something according to resignation, like whatever they had been arguing about was set in stone. The red lines aligned his eyes and part of his cheeks crinkled into something forlorn when he regarded her.

"She's awake," Tsunade muttered.

"...Unbelievable," The man stated, shaking his head. He was the first to approach her, coming closer with a discordant eye. "Shit. Minato made the announcement and everything," The man said. He paused, considering her and setting his jaw. "...Do you remember anything?"

"She won't," Tsunade said, sure of it. "Not much, anyway."

"Okay, we can hear it from her," The man nodded.

"No, Jiraiya."

Jiraiya.

Rin didn't know if she should know this person or not.

You do.

Did she?

Legend.

She didn't care for that.

"So?" Jiraiya urged. "Tell me what's the verdict, kid. The name Namikaze Minato ring any bells?" The mocking tone accompanied a wheezing grimace when Tsunade hit his head hard.

A flash of blonde came to her sanity as soon as the question elicited past his condescending mouth, but nothing else. She couldn't process it, no matter how much the soft voice in her head frantically tried to.

"No," She muttered.

The man immediately frowned, concerned. "What about Hatake? Hatake Kakashi?" His tone was laced with haste.

A boy. It was the name of a boy she once knew.

Nothing.

Nothing really came to mind except lightning and pain. Emotional, pain.

"No," She answered again. Shizune was starting to get uncomfortable holding her, so Rin made sure to pull away to let her move from the incriminating conversation. Grateful, the girl quickly ducked under the man's height and made to stand beside a calculating Tsunade.

"Shit."

"I told you," Tsunade snapped.

Jiraiya looked at her imploringly, searching her face for something she didn't know of. Whatever it was, Rin was sure he wouldn't find it. "What was the last one's name?" The man murmured, rubbing his chin. "The actual dead one."

Nobody made to correct him on how rude it was to speak ill of the dead.

"Be respectful," Rin said in their stead, a voice not hers. It was hers, the same timbre—but it was Rin. She was Rin.

I'm not.

She was.

Everyone silenced, looking at her with surprise.

"Right," Jiraiya digressed, looking chastised. "I'm sorry—wait." He narrowed his eyes, "You know about your other teammate I was just about to talk about?"

She didn't exactly know, no. She didn't have a clear picture, much like the others. Just the red illusion of the most expressive eyes she had ever been blessed to lay eyes on. Dark, like coal. Dead, and gone.

Lost.

"...No," She admitted slowly.

"...Are you serious?"

She didn't answer him. Without meaning to, her mind ventured past the darkest point to pull out the crystal clear image of a boy in goggles who looked at her like she was the world.

'Obito loved you, Rin.'

Her heart dropped.

"That's it. Get out, meathead. If you're going to disturb one of my patients, you need to get the hell out. Now," Tsunade hissed, grabbing Jiraiya from the back of his shirt and chucking him out of the gaping door. The man yelped and sputtered out indignations that the woman responded with unhidden threats, and as Rin watched, she had to calm her heart before it burst out of her chest.

It hurt.

Everything about that hurt.

Why?

He died first.

She didn't flinch as the door slammed shut and Tsunade faced her with both her hands on her hips. Her scorching gaze branded her.

I miss him.

She didn't know why, but she thought he was alive.

If she had the capabilities to live, if she wasn't just a corpse as Shizune and Tsunade proceeded to speculate about now with the white-haired man gone, wouldn't he live too?

"Alright, now. I'm going to ask you a question and you better answer it honestly," The woman began, leaning on one hip with an aura of serious pondering that seemed like it had been forced from the start.

Rin fluttered her eyelashes, trying to adjust to the lighting that kept dimming and rising every few seconds. It was incredibly distracting.

"If you're Nohara Rin, I'm going to report to Konoha that you're alive." The woman barely hid her level of disgust and anger at the mention of the Village.

Rin waited. Shizune looked somewhat hesitant, somewhat excited. Doubts? What could she doubt?

"But I sure as hell don't want to. If you say not to, I'll tell Jiraiya to call it off and it'll save me the trouble of explaining shit to the Higher-ups. Your choice." Tsunade gruffed.

"And you get to stay with us!" Shizune added hopefully.

Rin said nothing.

For a while, the woman stood there.

Three more seconds and she was storming out of the room, without an answer.

[. . .]

More time passed. Shizune asked the same question as Tsunade had every six hours of every day. Rin never said anything.

She didn't know what to say to that.

Find your teammates, the voice would hiss. Take the offer.

Don't take it.

Needless to say, Rin was confused.

She was confused until frustrations began to fester in her heart, tearing the left and right ventricles in half. Contortion occurred first followed by pain, and Shizune didn't seem to understand why her heart kept malfunctioning.

Rin had said it might've been emotional pain.

She didn't remember saying that.

The agitation only grew with time, and though the woman never said anything when Rin began to gain her strength to roam around, she'd always look at her with a sad longing while in her drunken state. Rin wondered who she saw in her place, wondered if she looked so much like someone she might've known. Whatever it might've been, her thoughts persisted.

They persisted relentlessly for three weeks. A month now, with them.

Shizune kept asking, but her threat about Tsunade kicking her out was gone. Almost like she was allowed in.

Rin wasn't sure if they answered the question for her.

So she decided.

Rin went up to Tsunade, quiet and assured one evening that she hadn't stalked off to gamble her money away.

"Thank you, Tsunade," Rin started off with sincerity and bowed. "I don't care if you don't want my gratitude. You allowed me to stay to recuperate, and I am giving you mine," She said.

The woman drank a shot without looking her way.

Rin straightened. "And thank you for not talking to me. I care little for reassurances." It was blunt and rude.

Shizune had squeaked beside her.

"My answer to your question is yes. I don't want Konoha to know," Rin looked down blankly, eyeing the building bottles of booze. What a mess this woman was. More than she must be.

Shizune blurted out the next part, "She wants to stay too!" Her hands covered her mouth, peeking sideways at her with a hopeful grin hidden beneath threads of flesh.

The woman continued drinking. She didn't acknowledge her words.

Rin decided she'd do it another day now that the knot in her chest loosened somewhat. Voices filtered in and out of her psyche, but never the darkest one that had been taking over her body before. She wasn't sure if she was thankful for it to be gone or not. The creature... Whatever it had been, had looked tired.

She wondered what Shizune had meant a few days ago about her being stable now.

When Rin made a move to leave, Tsunade slammed her glass down onto the counter.

"Wait."

Rin regarded her plainly.

Tsunade scowled her way. "You're Minato's student, aren't you?" Never mind that Shizune had said Jiraiya talked about her as one of them. This woman must know already, right? Rin didn't fucking know.

Rin said nothing.

The woman's glare deepened. "Well?"

Rin thought about it. "I don't know," She said.

You are.

"I am," Rin then said.

"Which is it?" Tsunade demanded.

You are his student.

"I am his student," Rin clarified.

"Right," Tsunade muttered, scowling. "I heard she died a year back. I don't know nor do I care how," The woman said. "Yet, you show up on my damn doorstep. Alive. Why is that?"

Rin didn't know.

"I don't know."

The woman stared her down. Then, she snorted. "Typical," She grumbled, taking the bottle at arm's reach. She poured herself another double shot.

Rin made to leave again, seeing that the conversation was done.

"Did I say you could leave?"

Rin stopped again.

"You did," Rin reminded. Not right now. But when they first met.

That she could leave once she was in good condition.

"Tch. Get over here and shut your mouth. Treat the woman who saved your life with some damn respect," Tsunade snapped, rising from her chair. She tilted sideways before quickly reorienting herself. Rin didn't know what aspect to give respect to if the woman could barely stand upright.

Shizune scrambled to grab the bottle from smashing on the floor as Tsunade seized Rin by the arm and hauled her close.

Green invaded Rin's senses, and she found the woman pressing gentle fingers to her head.

"Definitely damaged," Tsunade mumbled, pasty. Her breath smelled rancid with alcohol.

Rin stood still. She refrained from saying she smelled like the awful stench of whiskey.

"And you said your name was Rin? Do you actually remember it that way or did your memory get completely wiped? And don't bullshit me by saying Rin's your name because Shizune called you it. I want an honest answer."

Your name is Rin.

"My name is Rin because I remember it," Rin confirmed. She did. Somewhat. Partially.

Her other name... disappeared just three days ago.

Tsunade pulled back, curious. "It looks like there's still that damn blockage. Did someone put a nasty juul of Genjutsu on you?"

Rin didn't know.

The voice did not answer her, but she felt something melancholic.

She didn't respond. Tsunade threw her hands up, scoffing. "Peh. Whatever. Stay if you want. I don't care," Tsunade scowled and then left.

The hug Shizune enveloped her felt like a contract.

Find your teammates, the same voice reminded.

She would, this time.

Chapter Text

[. . .]

"Every inch of your skin feeds into my illusions.

You're back, but you're not her.

You're not the person I once knew."

[. . .]

Chapter 2

Over The Years, I Find You

[. . .]

Rin.

Rin?

Am I Rin?

The concept of time eluded her.

She knew not how long she'd stayed with this Lady Tsunade and Apprentice Shizune, and she cared not for it. She existed just because she could and her body was functioning the most optimal it had been since even... the before. The girl—herself?—Rin made sure to keep track, however.

She never asked why. She couldn't.

But the day came easily enough, and she was obtuse to stop it.

Months in, Rin unexpectedly stopped gathering herbs meant for Tsunade's headaches the woman seemed persistent to feel as a punishment she knew all too well.

Next to Shizune in the woods, the girl faltered in her next steps to give Rin a questioning look.

"Rin?"

I don't know if that's my name.

Rin turned her head slowly, acknowledging the call. "I want to fight," Came the struggle of her words. The excess strength to take over warped her motor functions and provoked her to fall against the tree and onto the muddy floor when a discordant wave of dizziness bashed against her skull. The basket toppled to the side, spilling the tiny plants she had worked for hours to collect, and Shizune's noise of alarm alerted her that she was right in front of her, face hovering frantically.

She hadn't even seen her move.

Everything was faint.

"Rin! Oh Sage, you're—" She felt her hands check her pulse and vaguely glow green, "You'll be fine! Okay? Okay. I'm taking you to Tsunade-sama—"

Rin snatched her wrist, grip harsh.

Shizune stuttered to a halt. As static as her environment was perceived, she saw the clear fear in Shizune's orbs of truth.

Rin—that's you—hoped her droopy eyes conveyed the intensity of her request.

"Teach me... how to fight."

For my teammates.

Find your teammates.

Her tongue lolled to the side, unable to perform its basic motor function. Shizune had panicked more, but Rin—was gone.

She was gone.

She said that a year ago, now.

[. . .]

Lady Tsunade said she was mentally unstable.

She had been saying that for over a year now, not that Rin was counting.

She was lucky even to acknowledge what she ate for breakfast this morning.

"I'll give you chakra lessons for your mind to tune into. You're about to fucking collapse," The woman said with annoyed conviction one sweaty afternoon, eyeing her up and down. They were outside by a riverbank in a mostly desolate village near Iron Country. Shizune had gone in to search for groceries for what they'd eat that night, giving them much-needed alone time for her pursuit of training.

Her chest felt like it was about to contort in on itself and she was drenched in bodily fluids. The hair on her head had grown longer, which meant it was currently matted from all the scuffing around she'd done. She smelled like shit and all the bones in her hands were broken. Pieces of her nails were missing, stuck to her torn clothes with visible splotches of blood.

The ache was gut-wrenchingly excruciating.

But she made no noise to process she even was in pain.

Her brain couldn't formulate it. She couldn't fucking feel it, even though the reality of it was there, dully, overwhelmingly so.

What hurt was the demented cries in her head.

Failure. Failure, failure.

To say that Rin was a prodigy would be a damn fucking lie.

She was an absolute, worthless excuse of a Shinobi. Everything she did followed with disaster. Mindless, useless, impotent girl.

She was worse, even, because of the beast sealed inside her. A hinderance, Tsunade called it. Because of everything she had to learn, she had to perform over one hundred times before she got pieces of it right.

Did she give up? No.

The voice inside her head prohibited her from the muscle tension to utter and terminate what she never wanted. It possessed her burning limbs, moving them about in the same methodologies over and over again until she almost killed herself from exhaustion.

It took her too much blood, flesh, and sweat to get where she was now.

At first, when Shizune proposed the idea, Tsunade said no.

Whoever she was had become deranged and agitated at the refusal, so she forced Shizune into teaching her basic healing properties until Tsunade caught them three weeks in, stating that Shizune didn't know half of what she was doing. You're too fucked up to do anything now, Tsunade had challenged, but Rin? didn't give a fuck.

Rin didn't remember much after that. What she did remember was the ruthless methods she was launched into per her request, starting by watching live fish and animals explode under her hand.

Do you realize it now? Tsunade snarked cruelly upon her sixteenth accidental murder.

She felt nothing, but the broken cries coming from her mindscape were ringing her ears deaf.

Still, she didn't desist from her mindless intentions. She kept going, listening to a melancholic Shizune repeat the constant mantra of how the jutsu worked repeatedly.

Eventually, she got the basics of Medical Jutsu right.

Looks like you're not totally useless, Tsunade praised, though Rin felt like it was a hollow victory. She struggled tremendously with the simple conceptions of whatever power this world harbored, so who was to say that she would rise in the personal ranks the voices inside her head screeched for her to accomplish?

But she refused to blame the beast inside her as they wanted. It had been quiet since the arrival of that man with long white hair—Jiraiya, the voices corrected—and she would be damned if she placed her failures on a lousy excuse. So what if her supposed 'chakra' was haywire with trauma and malicious intentions? She was working on concentrating it just as Tsunade said, and she would smooth it out piece by piece until it was perfect.

Until I find my teammates.

But this drive was coming from someone else. Rin—probably herself—had a goal. It was fueled with the love of a thousand bleeding suns, all of which remained stagnant in the back of her mind until she was training.

When she trained, her exertions erupted from her burned pores, creating a grotesque vision of success in forms reminiscent of suicide.

And the eyes of a young boy with beautiful, charcoal, eyes.

She jolted, honing her eyes on the return of Tsunade's blurry image.

Rin—I don't know her—stood there, allowing the woman to judge her. She didn't care much about what she said about her performance because she figured it was true, but the voice inside her head seemed extremely upset by the news. Sorry, it kept repeating, and she almost said it out loud but didn't. There was a tangent of bitter pride swirling inside her parched throat.

The Senju came closer, placing both palms on the side of her head.

Rin closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of rose.

She's like a mom, they said.

She thought the comparison was irrelevant. This woman wasn't a mother, nor did she have the capabilities of being one. Whatever she had gone through was none of Rin's—don't forget me—business. But the damage was evident.

Tsunade pulled away, shaking her head with slight vexation. "There's still that knot in your brain. You'll need years of psychological aid before you're even functioning like a normal person," She scowled.

Rin said nothing to her.

Tsunade scowled further. "Brat. From now on I want you to answer me whenever I speak to you. I'm not going to teach you any advanced shit until you get your body, mind, and spirit under control. Understand?"

Rin inclined her head.

Please let me out.

"I understand."

"Now come here," Tsunade grouched, reaching for her hands to heal them. "I expect you to be able to heal yourself next week. If you're damn determined to overcome this hellion of a chakra you got, then you need to work twice as hard."

Rin didn't tell her that she was giving everything she had for it.

"Yes, Tsunade," She answered as her meat and knuckles snapped back together.

Tsunade didn't correct her lack of designated respect. Instead, she quietly rearranged the most broken parts of her body, leaving Rin—accept it—to reconsider the options she had cursed herself with.

When Tsunade finished, she pulled away with a considering look.

Rin waited, plain-faced.

"Now. I think you're ready to punch boulders rather than trees. You'll need to dilute your chakra into every individual muscle, tendon, and nerve to perform this unless you're fond of permanently losing your fingers," The woman said, even though Rin was explicitly told she wouldn't be teaching her any more things. This technique was considered advanced by how she phrased it.

Finally! her head cried.

Rin wanted nothing more but to exist.

[. . .]

An ominous chill woke her a month later.

Rin slowly slid off the covers of her blanket, turning her head to look out the window.

She heard faint roars echoing in the bright night, a full moon waning. The autumn leaves fluttered more than usual, puffed by the ravishing winds resounding a threnody.

The cries of the damned weren't coming from her.

[. . .]

Many more months progressed with Rin's struggles. Her persistence was indisputable.

She had lost a pinky finger.

"When's your birthday?" Shizune asked, sitting in front of her while she worked on Rin's missing finger as a form of training. Her chakra was whelving around the stump, bit by bit regenerating pieces of skin, meat, and bone. The two of them sat together on Tsunade's hotel bed mid-afternoon, hours doing the excruciating process of the development of her body.

November 15th, the voice provided.

That isn't my birthday. "November 15th," She answered quietly. On a normal person, they'd be put to sleep doing Shizune's work. Rin didn't feel pain.

Not anymore.

"Oh," Shizune physically wilted, "That was a month ago..." She perked up almost instantly, "But we... We could celebrate it tonight if you want...? I think it'd be fun," Her smile was brittle but sincere.

Rin considered her.

I want a birthday party, the voice whispered, dismal and lonely.

Rin inhaled. "...Okay."

Shizune's smile was brilliant.

[. . .]

While tending to a patient in a clinic pertaining to a trade village near Cloud Territory to make quick money one afternoon, Rin had to pause momentarily when her chakra spiked without reason. Her hands quickly pulled away before she dislodged the sickly man's limb, and he had given her a weird look, likely questioning why her erratic distance was done.

Rin had no answer. She felt a trickle escape from her crotch, and she glanced down at the purple shorts she bore, holding her hands up.

She saw nothing wrong.

"Rin?"

Rin regarded an approaching Shizune. Her expression was one of worry. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you want me to take care of him?" Shizune gave the sickly man a disarming smile. The man returned it, albeit with a pallor for illness.

Answer.

Answer her.

"Yes. Nothing. Okay," Rin answered consecutively.

When Shizune moved to take her place wordlessly, Rin left the clinic and searched for Tsunade to give her the share she earned. The woman had never asked them to play nurse, but Shizune had volunteered and thus, Rin followed.

She walked across the tiny village and located her slumped form by the fence of one of the homes.

"Tsunade."

The woman grunted in acknowledgment, side-eying her with a bottle of booze pressed to her lips.

She showed her the money.

Tsunade made a grim face, lowering the pitch of alcohol. "Clinic?" She muttered, taking the currency.

Rin—find your teammates—nodded.

When Tsunade glanced down, she whitened. Immediately, she was standing and seizing her hand. "Who did this to you, girl?" She hissed at her face, spewing bits of bitter firewater on her face.

Rin merely blinked. "Nobody did anything. I worked in the Clinic with Shizune."

Tsunade didn't seem to hear her. The woman hastily removed the black shawl she had on and wrapped it clumsily around her waist before grabbing her wrist and dragging her back to where she'd left them. All the while Tsunade bared her teeth at every man who came near, shouting exclamations and threats that were vulgar enough to make blood curdle.

The woman's grip was shaky but harsh. Rin made no move to remove it.

When the clinic came up, the Senju woman busted the door off its hinges and cracked parts of the wall with a kick, screaming for Shizune.

The people around were startled as she stormed past, seeking the girl.

Shizune scrambled to the room Tsunade was being told she couldn't be in from the other workers, sweating and confused. "Lady Tsunade?!"

Rin was hustled forward, "Did she work here today!?" Tsunade snarled.

Shizune nodded furiously. "Y-Yes! Yes, she did, why? Did... Did something happen?!" Her eyes frantically shifted between them, searching for an answer.

Tsunade fell on her behind, at last, releasing a heavy sigh. "Sage," She crumpled, rubbing her face. "You'll make me age past this point, you stupid girl."

Rin—look what you did—had no idea what she meant. Shizune didn't either.

As such, the rare time Tsunade was sober, she strode up to her the next day and explained the concepts of sex, gender, affiliation, and everything that involved physical coupling with another person. She also gave more insight into the female reproductive organ and how Rin was stupid for not saying anything about being on her period when they met up.

"If a man propositions you," Tsunade added toward the end of the conversation, narrowing her eyes, "Rip his balls off. You understand?"

The girl she might be and was let the information sink in.

She nodded.

[. . .]

"Get up!"

Rin remained on the ground, working her gaping, broken jaw sweltering with blood. She tried to speak in assent to her bid, but only noises came out. Still, Tsunade remained in her place across from her as Rin forced herself to rise, twisting her head around to lock her one good eye on the intimidating woman angry at her lack of progress. Rin—they cried on the inside to win—was momentarily hit with a sedentary frustration.

How could she win if the Slug Princess was keen on breaking every bone in her body?

"I can see that you're pissed off," Tsunade remarked, giving her a knowing look. She wore a beige coat over a purple dress she seemed fond of, evident enough since the stitched letters on it probably belonged to someone she once held dear. Her hair was shorter, cut up to her shoulder and hanging loosely for the wind to blow into.

Two years haven't changed the woman much. Or, at least, Rin thought it had been two years since she'd been with them.

According to Shizune, she was now fifteen.

Rin replied to the woman's taunt by resetting her dislodged jaw. The bitter crack of it rang in her mind as she licked at the missing molars. She'd collect them later.

"Use that anger, girl. I want you to let it consume you, but just enough that your chakra bubbles with yours and not the thing inside you," Tsunade goaded, raising her hand and forming a fist with it.

Rin didn't know what to say to that.

I am angry, she wondered.

I am.

With a pitiful sniff and a wipe of her bloody nose with the back of her hand, Rin launched herself at her reluctant teacher, coating her knuckles with a less messy string of chakra. She hadn't gotten a decent hold on it yet, but Tsunade had respected her lack of tact when it came to her formidable body. Either she developed a mutated regenerative gene from being a Jinchuuriki, or she secretly knew the Senju's forbidden technique.

Tsunade didn't care either way. That just meant that her teacher could go harder in her training.

(Never mind that the only reason the beast sealed inside her hadn't come out was because she couldn't feel anything. Just as her surroundings were dull with color, so too was she on the inside. Guiltless. Weightless. A perfect, hollow, sack of meat.)

At the very least, Rin got used to the patterns. What she lacked in physical prowess she made up mentally, though not without complications. She might have a photographic memory and keen eyes for even the most minuscule of details, but only while she was fighting. She could think within the exhilaration, but outside of it, she was a husk.

A Soldier, Tsunade told her once.

The phenomenon was blamed on the knot still in her head. It was, apparently, detangling bit by bit, but at the rate it was going...

Rin didn't plan on holding out hope for it changing anytime soon. Or was it Rin who was hopeful? The overwhelming intensity of everything that had happened to her kept piling in the back of her head, swallowed by the wailing abyss that begged every day for her to finally leave and find her teammates. I'm strong enough, you're strong enough!

Rin—did it matter?—didn't dare attempt to silence them.

Her punch met her mentor's arm, creating a whiplash of explosive air and debris. "Not bad," Tsunade commended as Rin backed off and angled for a kick at her head. Just as Rin thought, the barbaric woman retaliated by grabbing the limb mid-air and tucking it under her arm.

Slowing down just because of a compliment caused a wounded, near-death sentence in this type of training. So was stupidly using her legs when she hadn't disoriented her mentor enough because a second later Rin was cradling her backward appendage, her body thrown unceremoniously on the floor.

"Heal it and get up. We still have six hours ahead of us," Tsunade ordered, though she hovered over her protectively, watching her heal.

As Rin trickled the green mist after popping her broken limb into its original position, she questioned why the knot in her head only dissolved when she remembered cracked, dirty goggles.

[. . .]

Three months went by in the blink of an eye.

With it, the headway of her skillset improved, confirmed by a brooding Tsunade picking out the sharp rocks from Rin's squelching left eye after training. Her mentor explained that her method of coating her entire body with reinforced chakra was overdone, but not a bad thing. The skin absorbed the strength in the chakra and made her skin impenetrable against certain weaponry for a certain time, and if consistent, would permanently engrain itself into the cells and alter the way her skin works.

She had also become immune to most poisons; chemical and natural alike.

She'd been called a freak for it because her body's healing chakra was flushing them out continuously, and the chemical aspects of it were a baffling speculation that was answered with the accidental use of the three-tail's chakra. Her stores were not ideal and wouldn't be for a time, but they were getting there. Sharpening her chakra output while she slept subconsciously aided her in that category, so the only problem lay in the making of the Yin Seal of a Hundred Healings.

"You probably can't do it," Tsunade admitted, studying the area just below her collarbone closely. "So we'll probably make an alternate emergency seal here that pockets a small amount of iryo-nin just in case your heart stops beating," She poked at it, "But that's never been done, so I won't progress that. It's up to you."

So Rin decided that it was best not to. Her electrified spasming has stopped as of a year ago, healed by her own hand. The voices inside her head wouldn't risk a return.

But Rin decided she'd do it on her own.

For my teammates, they'd said.

Rin had yet to set out to find them.

Shizune was washing the dishes tonight, glancing at her now and then. She hadn't asked about her bandaged eye that would return to normal in two days, which was an unexpected move by the teenager. But Rin didn't ask.

The dinner was a lighter affair than any other they had. For once, Tsunade didn't drink the night away. Instead, she explained to Shizune the list of pain receptors in the body, and how in each part there was a specific number of them that would react more than the other. Rin had silently watched, consuming the food that Shizune threatened her to eat because she hadn't done so for the past two days. The lack of hunger returned and left on a whim, so when faced with it, Shizune made sure to feed her accordingly.

Although that remained the same, Rin found that there was a forming change in Tsunade. She was still a bitter old lady, but she was more inclusive with what she and Shizune did. More... alert. Caring.

Rin took each plate, dried it off, and set it neatly on a pile.

"...Tell me about your teammates," Shizune offered while they shared the chore assigned to them by the woman who was sleeping just on the couch a few feet from them, seeming awkward in the postponing silence she often found herself with.

Rin stopped.

Shizune kept scrubbing. "I always... um... you always mumble about them, and Lady Tsunade said it's good to talk about your problems so... Do you want to talk about them?" Her tone was soft, slightly pleading. Maybe she knew just how much disaster went on inside her head.

Rin blinked, ears ringing from the screams that never seemed to cease.

"I don't remember," She muttered blandly.

Yes, you do. You remember. They were everything!

The once blurry image of bright, loving ebony eyes became a full face. A young boy with goggles on his head and the pinkest of cheeks. A young boy with silver hair and haunted eyes. The memory had her clenching her jaw. "They were everything to me."

Shizune looked heartbroken.

Rin eyed her, banishing the thought of the kind boy away from her mind. "...I remember one." The other wasn't clear.

The voice in her head shouted at her to continue. Rin didn't even twitch.

"...Obito," Rin revealed. The taste of his name was saccharine-wrapped in tragedy. For the slightest of moments, fright consumed her. It was gone just as fast.

"Obito," Shizune muttered, furrowing her brows. "I think I knew of him. He was a war hero."

Rin didn't really know. "...I liked him," She said.

The voices in her head went dead silent.

The muteness was jarring, but, again, Rin made no unsettled gestures to indicate anything even happened.

Shizune looked down at her bubbly task, remorseful. "I'm so sorry... Did... did you ever tell him?" She bit her lip, apprehensive. Bashful, for asking.

"Rin..." His single, bloody eye peered down at her in agony.

She saw him through the crimson haze.

He held her so close.

"No," Rin said, unsure. "I don't think I did. We were at war... There was no..." Her expression wrenched, formed from the building headache. There was no what? What else was there if not his thousand-yard stare and his cradling touch on her dead body?

Shizune closed her eyes, nodding. "...I lost my uncle in it."

Rin tilted her head at the new information.

"I don't remember him much anymore. Lady Tsunade talks about him rarely, when she's extremely drunk. It's... It's hard," Shizune admitted.

Rin placed a comforting hand on her arm, unintentional in her abrupt inclination. Shizune looked up, alarmed. Rin squeezed.

"She must have loved him so," Rin said. Knowing.

Shizune looked at Tsunade's sprawled frame, melancholic. "More than me," She whispered.

Rin had nothing to say.

[. . .]

"Happy Birthday, Minato's brat."

16-year-old Rin took hold of the long, ethereal, steel pin offered to her from the calloused hands of the Senju woman. Looking much like a pointed dagger, the embellished Senju insignia adorned on the top end shined, passing under an open light between the leaves of the large trees the mentor and student currently stood under. The silver color was a sight to behold, and Rin scrutinized it, lingering her eyes on the Vajra symbol Tsunade still wore on her back.

"Well?" Her teacher encouraged and Rin looked up. She was smiling softly. "Put it on!"

Unsure of why her hands were shaking, Rin briefly caught sight of a beaming Shizune jogging up to them both as she raised the gadget toward her bunned hair. Her practiced movements removed the old wooden one pining it together and quickly replaced it with the gift, looking down to avoid Shizune's excited encouragement and Tsunade's preening smirk.

When she finished, her hands dropped to her sides awkwardly.

"It looks good, Rin!" Shizune expressed eagerly, reaching forward to turn her around. The teenage girl was taller than her by an inch or two, and with the heels, she was a giant. "It compliments your eyes so much!"

Rin remained quiet even as Tsunade ventured forth to wrangle her around for a look herself. "Damn right you look good," The woman hummed, smacking her back in good conscience. "Even more so with that figure of yours. Men and women alike will drop dead for you. I'm glad you're eating more, brat," She said. Her breath didn't smell like alcohol.

She'd stopped as of a week ago, though Shizune told her she'd be drinking tonight for her birthday. Old Habits die hard.

Rin didn't know what to say.

Was this her they were praising?

She didn't feel like herself, still.

But it felt nice, in a way.

"Come along girls," Tsunade began, putting an arm around both of their shoulders and bringing them close with a squeeze. Shizune wheezed and Rin eyed her mentor, quietly trying to compartmentalize what her body was trying to feel. "Today we're going to fucking celebrate."

When she let go and smiled at her, Rin realized what it was.

Comfort.

[. . .]

That evening, while Shizune kept an eye on a boisterous Tsunade making a mess of things in the local village bar teetering on the edges of Fire Country, Rin stepped outside to get some air.

She hadn't drunk a drop of what the old woman offered, though she was tempted. Just to see what it was like. But she hadn't for Shizune's sake. The poor girl would be dealing with two drunk idiots instead of one. Though, Rin had to wonder, what type of drunk would she be? Would she be like Tsunade—violent, messy, and hysterical? Or would she be something else?

Rin vacantly appreciated the cool breeze bringing relief to her heated skin.

She stood just to the side of the entrance, watching idly as the lights coming from the window flickered out and about. The huffy yelling paired with the voices of celebration rang high, reminding her of how... incomplete she was.

They could have fun. They could smile, get angry, get sad. They could feel.

But Rin... Rin could not. The void in her heart begged for an out, but Rin just wasn't like that. She couldn't scare, she couldn't smile, she couldn't do... anything.

Perhaps it might have been because she never truly endeavored to feel. She didn't see a point to it. The things she'd seen proved that emotions were an encumbrance to the psyche. Though she had no right to say that.

The knot in her head was still there, somehow. Maybe it might never go away. It'd been years and there wasn't a change.

Was it frustration she felt? No. The scratchy feeling at the back of her head when she trained was just that. Irritation.

Perhaps that was why she still engaged in learning battles with Tsunade. It made her... think. Act. Feel?

There were little moments when she had sensed something else about her. There was something more than the null inside her, and Shizune and Tsunade were the two that brought it out of her the most. So were the cries in her head that had gone quiet since last year during spring, when she'd made that connection to the boy in her dreams.

Obito, they said his name was. Or maybe it was her that had said it, once upon a time.

She can't remember much from that day.

"Rin? Rin...!" The voice of Shizune caught her attention and she looked, meeting her eyes.

Shizune let out a relieved breath. Tentatively walking out and giving a brief look over her shoulder, she smiled sheepishly at her. "Ah. Rin, do you think you could...?"

Rin didn't need to be told twice. With an exhale, she stalked away from the enlightening pub to look for an Inn. No matter how much Tsunade had changed, she remained as irresponsible as ever. More than once Rin or Shizune had to take care of the financial plans. That woman spent way too much money on her addiction. Something about that felt relatable to her, though.

To be stuck on a habit that took away pain.

She rubbed her chest and the forming bump on it. The seal was nearly complete. There was a faint red coloring forming in the shape of a diamond, small. She almost died the first time she attempted to create it, but she managed.

She was no Tsunade Senju. But she was getting there. Maybe one day she'd reach her level.

Maybe one day she'd feel content to be as she was.

Taking a turn on the dirt road and distracted by her thoughts, she immediately bumped into a hard surface.

She peeled away from the obstacle to peer at what she might've run into, just to see it was a person with an orange mask painted with black swipes.

By the look of their body, it might've been a he, broad-shouldered and all. Bigger than the Kunoichi she'd seen running through the trees over the years.

His hair was long, spiky, and littered with small branches that pointed that he might've been in a hurry to get somewhere. It reached just below his shoulders, swaying from the tantalizing winds. He wore a black turtle-neck shirt underneath a flowing indigo coat that stopped at his shins. It too billowed, revealing loose pants around the thighs just above the knee, and dirty, bloody bandages woven around his lower legs.

The white rope around his midsection pressed tight, adorning a sword.

A Shinobi.

Looking into the hole of the mask, she stepped back to give the Shinobi room.

Instead, the swipe of his hand was inhumanely fast, curling his index and thumb on her chin. The grip was firm but not punishing, and Rin, being one not to care for situations, seemingly allowed the man to pull her back in.

The spike of his chakra was felt.

Disbelieving.

Rin wondered why it felt familiar.

"...You're..." His trailing voice was raspy. Deep.

₣₳₥łⱠł₳Ɽ?

When his hold clenched into a painful, shaking degree, Rin had enough.

She seized his hand and ripped it away from her, hearing a break or two. He didn't make a sound.

There was a red eye damning her from behind the mask.

Her ears circumnavigated with sudden screams.

Y̵̡̬͖̠̋ͫ̌ͤ̚͞͞o҉̢̡̲͇̌͗̀͢͝u̶͖̖͆̊̈́͡͡ f҉̴̥͎̰̰̒͌͛͐ͧ̕͜͝͡͞o҉̢̡̲͇̌͗̀͢͝u̶͖̖͆̊̈́͡͡n̸͐̈́͟͟͝d҉̴̷̧̢̛̖͔̤ͯ̔̑̄͢͟͡͠ h̷̶̘̘̬ͭ̏͞͡i҉̧̯̤̙͔̑ͧ̅̔ͦ́͜͟͢͝͠m̴̵҉̸̲̗̰̼͗͌̃̇͟͟͟͠͞͠. 

Rin let go of the hand. She was going to step around, ignore the return of the voices she thought she had gotten rid of for good, and find Shizune and Tsunade an Inn to stay the evening, but none of that happened.

Her expression twisted, and her lips curled downward as she took in the man who was seemingly one of her missing teammates she should've looked for a while ago.

The chakra was dense. Angry. Polluted.

But it was one she felt before.

When she died.

When they had died?

When I died.

"Rin!"

She snapped her neck to look behind her, spotting Shizune supporting Tsunade with one arm. She was waving at her, and the light of the streetlamp illuminated her tired countenance.

Had I been gone so long?

When she looked back to address the discovery, the man was gone.

Gone.

He's gone.

H̴̶̵҉̨̡̛̼͎̫͓̒́̔ͩ͜͟͠͞͞e̵̡̫̫͍͕̎ͭ̐͟͟͝͞'s҉̝̭̦͚̑ͯ̌͡ g̷̵̸̡̼̱͎͎̞ͤͬ̅͢͟͞o҉̢̡̲͇̌͗̀͢͝n̸͐̈́͟͟͝e̵̡̫̫͍͕̎ͭ̐͟͟͝͞.

Find him. Find your teammate.

F̶̵͖͚̯̮̤̫̿̆͌͋͢͟͡͡i҉̧̯̤̙͔̑ͧ̅̔ͦ́͜͟͢͝͠n̸͐̈́͟͟͝d҉̴̷̧̢̛̖͔̤ͯ̔̑̄͢͟͡͠ T҉̘͙͖̠̓ͦ͑̄͜͜͟͞h̷̶̘̘̬ͭ̏͞͡e̵̡̫̫͍͕̎ͭ̐͟͟͝͞ U̵̶̸̹̮̹̲̻͙̎ͪͣͦ͜͡͞͡͡c̷̶҉̵̢͚̣̻̲̬͑̑͛͐̀͜͜͜͝͡͝͠h̷̶̘̘̬ͭ̏͞͡i҉̧̯̤̙͔̑ͧ̅̔ͦ́͜͟͢͝͠h̷̶̘̘̬ͭ̏͞͡a҉͖̟̜̞̂̃̑̽͢͢͠͡.

"Please tell me you booked us a room already," Shizune moped, a few feet away from her. Tsunade burped from next to her.

Rin lingered on the dirt he once stood on. The desolate dirt with no inkling he was ever there.

"No," She answered, regarding Shizune blandly.

The girl groaned.

Chapter Text

[. . .]

"Silence was the most violent deception."

[. . .]

Chapter 3

Waiting In My Heart

[. . .]

Rin.

Rin?

Rin had a stalker.

Her daily walks in the dead of night alluded to that finalizing fact that came into fruition a week after hearing suspicious leaves ruffling on the canopy of trees.

At first glance, she assumed it to be one of the nocturnal animals that prowled about. Common enough, it wouldn't be her first time running into them. Regrettably, despite her desire to dismiss the matter, the peculiar and deliberate sounds compelled her to investigate. While she did not consider herself paranoid, Tsunade's training had instilled in her a keen awareness of her environment.

Upon reaching out with her chakra for a look, she soon found that a lingering, familiar chakra source that felt distinctly human wasn't something an animal should leave behind.

It would be in poor conscience to dismiss that. As such, she told Shizune and Tsunade of her findings, which prompted them to leave not even an hour later.

"If it's Konoha Shinobi, beat their ass," Tsunade advised poorly while Shizune shook her head in disappointment from the back.

Rin—she's protecting you—stated her acceptance of the ill advice.

When they situated again on the opposite side of Fire Country, far from Konoha and nearing the Land of Waves, it didn't take long until her supposed stalker returned.

For a few days, she ignored them. As usual, she gathered the rich herbs off the verdant grounds and picked them clean by the nearest riverbank. She went out into town and made money with her skill, uncaring of the eyes concentrated on her back when evening would come, a time when she was required to return to Tsunade and Shizune.

In truth, Rin couldn't care.

The stalker hadn't done anything to her yet. Whoever it was might act in the future, but the future was hard to think about, so Rin sought to live in the present. As much as she could, at least. It was hard for her to zone back into reality. Everything was still dull. The voices weren't frequent anymore but the radio silence was gone, and when they were especially erratic, she wouldn't get a wink of sleep.

In any case, Rin—look over there—was followed daily. There was a forty-eight-hour period the watching was absent, but by the next, it'd return.

And Rin didn't lie. She told Tsunade and Shizune about the pervasive ogling that was respectful enough to leave her alone when she did any intimate business (she knew because the sizzling intensity wasn't giving her chills anymore), and so they went again.

The trio finally left Konoha's borders, traveled through Tanigakure, and eventually set foot in the Land of Wind. The travels were grueling most of the way. Rin had lost her pinky nails on each foot and stubbed her toe in a particularly sharp rock that Shizune fell victim to, but Tsunade always stopped before they lost their limbs or collapsed from exhaustion. Not that they got tired, often. They were Kunoichi.

(Shizune had whispered that Tsunade had finally become tender-hearted that evening when the woman departed to hunt for some scarce, chewy, lizard meat.)

When they discreetly stayed in one of the mini-villages a few miles outside Sunagakure, Rin and Shizune greedily drank from the substantial amount of water available. They all applied ointments onto their skin to naturally remove the sunburn, though Shizune snuck in some basic practice of Medical Ninjutsu to speed up the process.

(They weren't exactly prohibited from using Medical Jutsu, but by Tsunade's law, while training, they needed to condition their skin until it would keep from bleeding automatically rather than manually.)

It took two weeks of their settling in for the stalker to come back.

Rin didn't have the energy to be impressed. At that point she was lounging lazily on her side under a built shade, attempting to hide from the sun while they made good coin gathering patients who were severely in need of aid. Tsunade had mentioned that Suna was known for its lack of healers. Rin made no effort to pursue the frustrated curiosity scratching blood in the back of her meddling head.

When the big ball of fire in the sky was dimming and mercifully drawing away the sweat from her skin, Rin—look at me—shifted so that her back was facing the annoying burning.

Whoever her stalker was, Rin had to give them credit. They were insistent on her pursuit for whatever reason.

It was enough to jab a startle of irritation that flummoxed when Tsunade took her outside in the middle of a desert duststorm to improve her lung capacity and inner healing damage while engaged in debauching combat. In doing so, more than ever before, the itch of scrutiny pierced her with every move she made. How Tsunade couldn't feel it was beyond her. And again...

Rin just... couldn't care.

She cared so little, in fact, that an hour after laying to rest on the sand after her session, she carefully raised her throbbing body with a cough to stare directly at the area of intruding, familiar chakra.

At a distance was a minuscule black dot. And a despairing orange mask.

The perpetrator was the strange male who held her chin a bit too hard from weeks ago.

Although far away, Rin thought she saw a tint of red encapsulate her vision, concocting a throbbing headache that dispersed immediately when she heard Tsunade call for her return. "Get your lazy ass up and get dinner started!" The woman yelled, and Rin raised her demented body to do as she said, casting one last lingering look on the strange masked man before leaving.

Rin was aware that the masked man was aware that she was aware that he was behind the peculiar glances passed her way.

Unsure of what to do, a small spark of something scratched at the scabs around her heart, and, when everyone at dinner got their fill, Rin grabbed an extra bowl. The remaining fried fish and sticky rice leftovers were organized neatly on the deep, wooden, plate. Tsunade and Shizune had drifted to sleep respectively not long after, so Rin—you're me—took that opportunity to boldly walk out of the inn they inhabited.

She turned and wandered for a while in the dead of twilight, holding the bowl of precious sustenance. After a few minutes, she felt the tingling chakra source that'd been following her land just behind her.

Rin turned around, calmly raising her bowl when she discovered that it was, indeed, the same man.

"...Here," She rasped, needy with sleep that ridiculed her into thinking she still could, "Eat." An old habit kept in repetition in her head, though she didn't understand why. She didn't want to know why.

They had a stare-off. The gloaming shadow covered most of her, body eerily still. The way the masked stalker remained silent was uncanny, but Rin kept a firm hand on the gift. She didn't know why she decided to give him something when he'd been tormenting her for weeks, but the budding inclination to do something came to her naturally. Like when she saw flowers and picked at them to create the dying stem of a crown.

He took the bowl.

They were slow, his actions. Hesitant. Scared, maybe.

You found him.

She prepared to turn heel now that she finished what she wanted to do.

Make him stay!

His gloved hand was on her again.

Rin—do you recognize me?—faced him, twiddling with curiosity.

The crimson iris was back. It was luminous in the dark, decaying with impurities that dared want to unravel her whole. Whispers of secrets and wails ailed her, fighting the destruction they promised they saw was waiting on the other side of fainting paradise. Rin couldn't muster the energy to decipher just what they were warning her about.

"Your name," The raspy voice demanded.

Rin took a moment. His stance mimicked Tsunade's during training. Poised for an attack. Leaving a coldness for a punch, a dodge, a guard.

Nohara Rin.

Say it.

Say it now.

"Nohara Rin," She gave.

Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar.

The chanting was foreign. It was inside her mind, but it wasn't a voice Rin recognized. Somehow, it sounded... sad.

He clenched her forearm. "...Your name," Came his warning whisper. Was it broken, or were those her ears playing tricks of melancholia?

"Nohara Rin," She repeated, monotone.

Back. You're back.

You're here.

Before he tugged her forward, Rin eased her hand out of his touch. "Enjoy," She said and left.

He did not follow.

[. . .]

He didn't visit for months.

Rin counted. She didn't know why she did. Or maybe she wasn't the one counting and instead, it was her. Or me? She counted, waiting until his return just to see if he had eaten his food. He should have, by now.

What a silly thing to think about.

On month nine, she felt his eyes again.

She wasn't around Wind Country anymore. She was back in Iron Country again, just above the Land of Swamps. It was while she was smashing rocks during the evening (that she had no issue of being found with because according to Tsunade many of the Shinobi practiced with rock usage at any time) that she heard him swiftly land behind her.

Mid-throw of her fist, her instincts redirected her measured attack to the area behind her, bringing the appendage down and shattering the floor she paved for a week because there wasn't enough free space for her to run around. A deep, thundering crater that might've woken up Tsunade and Shizune had she not told them she'd be practicing was made, and the two of them had to jump away to stable ground.

She took note she missed. "Hey," She slurred after the rumbling finished minutes later while they both stood next to each other on a lone rock, but it wasn't her who spoke.

Your teammate.

Tasting the tang of metal in her tongue, she looked sideways to gauge his stance.

His red eye fixated on her. He stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Rin did too. She had nothing better to do. Sleeping was not kind tonight.

Then, "...Rin."

Say something!

Say it now!

The thing was, Rin had nothing to say. She didn't know Obito, not like how her blurry, scarce amount of memories wanted to. Obito was a passing thought. Her entire life persisted because she needed to look for him and the other boy she hardly remembered, but she'd found one of them. There was nothing more for her to do with him.

Lowering into a squat so that she could sit on the rock, she idly looked off into the distance, dawdling on the stars of a not-so-lonesome evening.

When it was evident she wouldn't speak, finally, after a solid twenty minutes, he sat himself down too.

The company was... okay. Rin didn't feel anything from it. She was just looking and being nothing. She didn't exist.

"...Are you real?"

Am I?

Obito's question nearly sent her careening into the abyss. But she didn't, so she answered after a decisecond recovery. "Probably," She shrugged.

He was still staring at her like some bloodhound. "You..."

Rin waited.

"...You don't look thirteen."

Well. That was an odd statement.

"I don't think I am," She agreed. "Tsunade said I'm sixteen."

Silence.

Then, "How?" He blurted.

Rin shrugged. "Don't know. Can't care." She looked at him.

His red eye was gone, leaving the gaping hole of his smooth mask of a color unbefitting the ranks of Shinobi. At least, that was what Tsunade said. No bright colors. Just plain ones that hide appearances. Maybe he was strong enough to flaunt it.

He looked like he stopped breathing.

And eating. His form was... thinner than before.

It prompted her to ask. "Did you eat the food I gave you?"

"What?" He answered.

"The food," She emphasized.

He tilted his head and Rin saw his tucked arm twitch. "From months ago," He enunciated distantly.

"Yes," She said.

The muteness enveloped them again. The mere sound of chaffing grains of pebbles passed the time, wrenching its noises between the palpably awkward atmosphere one party carried. Rin had no issue staring. The concept that she might've looked creepy flew over her head like many things. Rather, she, on the inside, in her head, was agonizing over the mixed company.

"It was poisoned," He accused airily.

"No," She said, sincerely.

"...I ate it," He admitted, sounding choked up.

Rin stood. He didn't move.

She eyed his figure.

He needs to eat.

He needs to.

You found him.

"I have more food," She muttered, flickering her eyes from him to her jagged pinky she hadn't noticed was broken. With ease, she coated her hand in healing chakra and snapped it back into place. "Come eat." Was it her proposing it? Was it me?

She waited until he slowly rose.

He followed her to the small earth cottage Shizune made when they came to inhabit here.

[. . .]

Rin stepped outside and turned the corner, locating where he eerily stood.

"It's Teppanyaki," She said, offering it to him once she was a foot away.

Obito took it. Held it. Scrutinized it.

A weird pain stabbed through the middle of her skull. "...You like sweets better. But I don't make sweet foods. I don't like them," She—someone else?—expressed in deeply rooted nostalgia. Panic spiked, but just as soon as it did, it died. She died.

I'm dead.

His head snapped up. His red eye was back.

She looked at it and felt the sweltering heat of a headache.

"...I don't eat," He warned.

"You should," She said without the push of whatever was probing the gum of her brain.

The pain intensified.

She clutched at her head, feeling faint. "...It's good for you. You don't want gastritis. You should remember that Obito, remember when you threw up acid reflux and I had to heal your throat?" She was babbling. Why was she babbling? She wasn't speaking, was she? But she was talking about the importance of eating. Why didn't Obito see that?

Her airway was cut off.

Rin wheezed, coughing when his hand squeezed her throat.

His eye was a blazing hell.

"Who the fuck are you?"

It's me, Obito!

It's me!

Who is me?

Rin.

I'm Rin!

You're Rin.

I'm not Rin.

I'm her.

Nohara Rin.

She looked him in the eye. "Nohara... Rin..."

Do I believe myself?

Her body fell unceremoniously on the floor when he shoved her away.

She coughed, spitting on the ground, clenching the dirt beneath her fingertips, caking her nails.

When she looked up, he was gone.

And so was the Teppanyaki.

[. . .]

That incident would cause her not to see him for two years.

He still lingered.

She could feel it.

But he never returned for another bite.

Nevertheless, she would gaze at the moon, waiting for his silhouette until she passed out with her arm against the windowsill.

(The moon would stare back.)

[. . .]

She trained as she always planned to during those two years.

She trained, and trained, and trained until she nearly died from exhaustion.

It was a usual routine for her now, to push herself half to death. But the progress was worth it, according to the voice in her head. There was a foreign energy too, belonging to the nightmares of a white maw eating her whole every evening for 'selfishness', and Rin took needless amounts of it to improve her chakra output. Tsunade said she was proud of her for regaining her previous perfect chakra control.

"Nearly perfect is never good enough. But perfect? Perfect is perfect," Tsunade explained, though Rin didn't know why the woman was contradicting herself. She always stated how, if Rin ever fell in love, perfection didn't matter. What mattered was the money, and how good of a person they were to be worth her attention.

Rin long knew not to listen to much of the things she babbled on about.

Neither did she listen to the man named Jiraiya. He stuck around for a good run, maybe a year if Rin counted right. He was training her, on how to control the portion of the 'tailed beast' inside of her. At least, he was supposed to.

Most of the time he was off bothering Tsunade.

Rin didn't care, truly. She was doing her own thing with her own seal, and the manufactured one on her stomach was only giving her further chakra to store. Tsunade had already confirmed she couldn't do the Strength of a Hundred Seal because of her messed up brain. Rin, the girl in her head that was her but not, took that as a challenge, which led to the creation of several small ones across her body, and the main one on her heart she kept feeding continuously every day. Just bit by bit, because the one on her left wrist exploded and almost took her hand with it.

She had to reattach it.

While amassing her chakra stores, she was also offered a summons. Primarily Tsunade had insisted to sign the Slug Summon, but Rin refused. It just wasn't for her, Rin thought. It didn't feel right.

Then again, nothing felt right.

Not the Dove Summon, not the Toad Summon, not the Butterfly Summon, not anything.

"C'mon kid," Jiraiya sighed, scratching the back of his head in irritation. "None of these grab your attention?"

Rin was staring at four scrolls with different symbols.

A Boar, a Ferret, an Elephant, and a Vulture.

Her chakra buzzed when she saw the last one.

"Ugh. I'll go and find more—"

Rin reached for the scroll.

Jiraiya cheered, but before he could pat her on the back for not wasting his time, Rin unclicked the safety and opened it.

She felt herself get sucked in.

When she landed, her eyes anchored on a set of piercing, orange, ones that looked far too animalistic for her liking. There was also a very big, hooked, beak in her line of vision. Not a human, then.

"Hm," The bird said, raising its head to jab its beak into the top of her skull without asking her first, "Good. Rotten blood."

Rin let the creature probe and pick through her skin and hair for as long as it wanted anyway. The sensation scratched an itch she didn't realize she needed to scratch.

When it pulled away to preen at its wings nonchalantly, Rin felt that, for once, she could wait on something.

The Vulture puffed its feathers. "Come back when you die again, yes?"

Before she could process its words, Rin was kicked out immediately after, landing against Tsunade who let out a small grunt at the impact. "What the hell?" Her mentor muttered, roughly seizing her by the arm and pulling her to her feet, "Where did you go?" She peered down at her with a haunted look in her eyes, hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot.

Rin didn't know, so she gave the only answer she could. "A vulture."

Jiraiya looked black and blue from when he emerged in the living room. "Don't do that again," He mumbled, flinching when Tsunade glared at him. "Tsunade-hime went crazy on me. You realize I need this handsome face for the ladies, right!?" He carefully tutted around her. Shizune was inside again, looking put-upon at the presence of Jiraiya. He would've left by now.

"Shut up before I rip it off," Tsunade sneered, already going for Rin's head and healing. Her hand was shaking, and Rin lowered her head so that she wouldn't see it. Either from the fear of blood or fear of abandonment, Rin suspected Tsunade wouldn't let her out of her sights for a while.

When she was healed, Jiraiya pitched in the question.

"So. Did you get the summons?"

"No," Rin said. "It told me I need to die again."

She wasn't sure why everyone colored white.

[. . .]

Jiraiya stayed for a little more after that. His usual eight months became a full year, as mentioned.

Unusually, after the Vulture Summons incident, she began to dream. Most of the time it was from memories of a past unfounded. However, the months that came changed the usual scene: a dark voice not her own and a white being. Every time she woke up from it she was terrified before the numbness of reality swept away the fear she had yet to escape from. Shizune would sometimes shoot up from her bed to check on her, but Rin quietly assured her she was fine. Shizune sometimes wasn't convinced. Rin realized it was because sometimes, a bit of the Tailed Beast Chakra would leak.

Jiraiya and Tsunade had woken up on a particular evening Rin woke, fully remembering what kept her so fitful.

"Her seal is fine," Jiraiya mumbled as he peered at it carefully while she was on her back, staring at the ceiling in dawning realization.

It seemed, that every night, she would talk to the creature inside her.

Tsunade rubbed her face. "Sage. What I wouldn't do for a fucking break over here," She grouched, reaching to caress Rin's face before stalking out.

Jiraiya pulled her shirt down and stood, sighing. "You sure you feel alright?"

Rin didn't feel like answering. "Yes," She whispered anyway, knowing that a lack of answer would worry them more.

Shizune snored beside her, neck awkwardly turned to ward the armrest of the couch. Jiraiya took one glance at her and picked her up, putting her just across on the spare futon. "I'll leave you girls be. If you feel anything off," Jiraiya gave her a pointed look, "Let me know immediately. Now Goodnight. I'm damn tired."

His footsteps were inaudible as he closed the door without sound. Instinct, at this point.

It took a while for Rin to sleep again.

When she did, her mind conjured the same dreams again and again.

She spoke with the creature. The Tailed Beast of Three.

It was angry, at first. Intolerant of her, especially. It subjected her to various mental torture with memories of an unknown life she'd rather forget. There were also two of her, and it was usually she who was overwhelmed by the psychological warfare. Rin was the quiet one. Two of her, but one and the same.

It tired of her presence quickly. The Tailed Beast of Three grew to ignore her, leaving her to sit with the sobbing grievances of her other self. She understood then that the voice in her head must've been the girl—the one that died in an electric tragedy.

Rin eventually heard it speak again. It sounded dismal. Reluctant. Resigned.

"There is no freedom," It spoke.

"I didn't take yours away," She replied.

The two grew to a mutual understanding. That she was not here of her own making, just as it wasn't bound to her by choice. Neither enjoyed the circumstances. But they had to live in it.

The months went by. Jiraiya left, in the end, after an assigned mission. Tsunade saw him off with a warning not to come back, but Rin understood she didn't mean it. Tsunade was complicated like that.

After months of talking to her living nightmare, the tailed beast gave her a reluctant name.

Isobu, he said.

[. . .]

On the night of her eighteenth birthday, Rin found a rose with a box of shrimp-fried rice on her nightstand.

Someone broke into her paid room.

Lifting the rose with her broken hand, she brought it close for a sniff.

It was...

Nice.

"He favors you," Isobu spoke into her mindscape that night. He was angry.

Rin didn't understand. "I don't think he does."

It was not her who answered.

[. . .]

"Good job, Rin."

Two months after her eighteenth, Rin lowered her dripping, crimson fist to acknowledge her mentor.

Tsunade stood to the side, eyeing the broken bandit with glee. "A nice, thick punch did well. You didn't overdo it either. Perfect amount of chakra to neutralize his nervous system."

If the heaping pile of groaning meat and bones was an adequate amount, Rin had no way of knowing.

"Now. Heal him again and name every part of the body for me. Repeat the process a few times," Tsunade ordered and walked away.

Rin wouldn't have ever protested the cruel command, not even if she was sane of mind.

Rapists were asking for it.

[. . .]

Tsunade pressed her fingertips to the side of her squeezing head. "Huh," She muttered, scrunching her nose. "Your knot feels less knotty."

Rin rubbed her forehead and Shizune lightly smacked her hand off. "Is it?" She questioned because it didn't feel like it. There had been gradual headaches here and there. Maybe because she kept looking for her stalker, even though he hadn't been around. The last time he interacted with her was on her eighteenth birthday. He disappeared off the face of the Earth afterward.

It's been nine months since then.

Tsunade pulled away, eyeing her. "Did you practice Genjutsu on yourself?"

"No," Rin admitted.

The grim expression that fell across Tsunade's face prompted Shizune to blanch.

"Someone put a tiny Genjutsu on you. If I was any other Medical Ninja I wouldn't have detected it. It's a damn good one, too. It's been picking at your brain for years if I'm correct." Tsunade carefully didn't mention that she couldn't exactly remove it without jeopardizing her basic motor functions. That was okay. Rin had already known she was being monitored differently.

Rin wasn't scared. She wasn't even surprised.

It was Obito, after all.

[. . .]

Her 19th birthday came and went.

"Happy Birthday, Rin," Tsunade said, handing her a double-bladed scimitar.

Rin grabbed the hilt in the middle, gripping it experimentally. Shizune watched with a giddy clap of her hands, wielding her trusted knife she'd become a discreet expert scalping people with on.

"I know jack-shit about this weapon. But I know someone," Tsunade said, crossing her arms and giving her a considering look. "...I noticed you were interested in it back in the Weapon's shop in Iwa. Decided to get it for your big day, but wasn't sure if you wanted to pursue learning it."

Rin didn't see much of a difference whether she wanted to or not.

"I'll see," Rin replied vacantly, thinking that she should experiment with how well she handled a weapon. Close combat was easy. Brutal. Perhaps she'd be better off learning Long-Range, just in case. She looked at her mentor, feeling... warm? "I assume you noticed something else too."

Tsunade's neutral expression broke into a smirk. "Damn right. Here," She shoved a large bow into her hands. "Chakra-enhanced bow. Put any jutsu in your specially tipped arrows, and you'll pierce damn good," She explained, motioning for Shizune who stepped to the side and revealed the sack of crystal-encrusted arrows.

Rin felt small.

Small, but okay.

"Thank you," She whispered.

She meant it.

[. . .]

Her stalker didn't visit her that night.

She slept.

"Why are you halved?" Rin asked Isobu, staring into his eye.

Isobu rumbled. "Ask your lover."

Rin didn't have a lover.

[. . .]

Rin resided comfortably on several rocks in a hot spring.

"Do you ever think of going back?" Shizune asked, brushing her hair. Shizune had been extra vigilant of her since they found out about the tiny Genjutsu implemented in her brain. Along with Tsunade, their overprotective tendencies bled through Rin's everyday life, and Rin wasn't even bothered about it. It felt... nice to be doted on. She felt wanted. Loved, even if it was overbearing.

She didn't ever want this feeling to go away.

Addiction, she found, was met by Tsunade's cradling hand and Shizune's comforting hugs.

Rin closed her eyes at the sensation of a brush scratching gently down her scalp. "No," She said. "I don't have anyone to go back to."

Shizune paused. Then, "Not even Kakashi?"

Rin opened her eyes. She thought she saw an orange mask in the distance and that damned red eye.

"Who's that?" She whispered.

There was no answer.

Shizune simply kept brushing, and Rin let her do it, unbothered by the silence.

Later, when Shizune turned in for the evening and left her alone in the Hot Springs per Rin's monotone insistence that she'd be fine without her, Rin finally removed herself from the boiling water. Her long, dripping, brown hair fell over her eyes while she bent over to pick up her clothes that had fallen earlier due to unknown reasons (maybe the wind). In doing so, she failed to see the shadow prowling up to her.

"Rin."

She snapped her head up, fluttering her eyelashes and exhaling a cold spore past her parted lips.

Obito looked the same. Just taller. Maybe his hair was a little longer.

She didn't know why the passing thought of brushing his hair came to mind.

"Hello," She murmured, returning her attention to her task. "It's been a while." The towel around her body wasn't secured, but it mattered little to Rin if it was or not. Being naked had never meant anything, and it wouldn't change for Obito either. Besides, she trusted him. Obito was a sweet boy.

Was, She whispered. Was, was. He used to be.

Rin wasn't wrong. Out of all the men she had the unfortunate opportunity to meet, only Obito had the decency to respect her boundaries. By being a creepy stalker, but that was neither here nor there.

When she leaned down, she lingered when the smell of blood pervaded her nose. The sound of a runny drip, drip, drip, forced her to raise her head, locking eyes on the soaked sleeve of her male companion.

Her fingers let go of her clothes and tightened the towel. "Come here," She said, gently grabbing his bloody arm.

He let her.

Her delicate fingertips stained crimson as she carefully ripped open the sleeve, immediately sinking her chakra to run a diagnostic. What she found was less than pleasant, but his body was in working order, so she felt that she would address that problem later when she wasn't so tired. For now, cleaning and healing the gaping kunai wound on his forearm was just fine.

It looked like it was self-inflicted.

She didn't say anything about that. She didn't care. It happened to the best of Shinobi, and for a person like her, well... She understood the need for pain.

Even though she didn't feel much of it anymore.

Lifting the bottom end of the towel, she ignored Obito's stiffening of his person to drag it over and clean the mess of blood. It dribbled onto her wet legs and ran down her arms, painting a gruesome picture when the white towel steadily darkened. It fell limp when she finished, wiping a pinkish hue on her flushed flesh.

It didn't take long to heal the wound. She made sure to reattach muscle ligaments and dip her chakra into the bone to heal the cracks. Layer by layer she went, concentrated intently on her teammate's well-being until all that was left was pink, newly-reformed, skin.

She looked up, cradling his hand, finished with her job.

Scars.

Jagged, intentional, scars she saw, attached to a sullen face.

A pretty face.

Rin knew that face so well.

Unbidden, her eyes began to sting. "How did you get hurt, Obito?" She whispered, shakily raising her hand to cup his scarred cheek. Her voice was her own, she thought. She didn't quite comprehend the painful tug in her beating organ.

He observed her. So, so, carefully, that it almost looked shy. Sad. Heartbroken.

"You must know," He murmured and no longer was his voice the commandeering rumble but a soft rasp.

Rin didn't know why she cried. Her face remained unmoving except for the streams of tears coming from her betraying eyes. "Don't do that," She breathed, thumbing his rough skin. It felt electric. Burning. "You need to take care of yourself. Eat, breathe, sleep. It's..." Good for you, she wanted to say, but it didn't feel right. She didn't know why it didn't feel right.

He moved to hold the hand cradling his face. "How are you alive, Rin?"

An abyss was waiting.

How?

How, how how?

How am I alive, Rin?

How are you alive, Rin?

How am I alive?

She isn't breathing right.

Nothing feels right.

Why is she alive?

Why am I?

How am I?

Who is me?

Who are you?

"—in. Rin. Come back—"

Someone was gripping her shoulders.

A ruby red eye whispered soothing nothings into her ear.

"You're okay," Said the voice. Another additional, voice. "You're real, Rin."

But my name isn't Rin.

"You're real."

I'm real.

"You're alive."

"I'm alive," She whispered, choked up with something raw she couldn't explain. Her voice shook and she was crying in earnest but she couldn't feel her face. "Are you real?" She didn't know why she asked that. It felt like her, all the same.

Obito's blurry image became clear. His face hovered inches close to hers. "I'm real," He confirmed easily.

The two of them settled into silence.

She continued gripping Obito's forearms while he moved his hands to hold hers.

The quiet became hours.

Hours, and hours, and hours and—

"The world has broken you, Rin." He sounded angry. Defeated. Hopeful, beyond measure.

Rin closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest. She wasn't going to kid herself thinking she understood why he felt the way he did.

He stiffened, unused to touches, but eventually embraced her.

"Rin's missed you so much," She admitted.

Obito didn't move.

"She's been in my head. I know I'm her now, but I can't confirm. I don't feel real. I died and came back, with my only purpose being to find you. And. Someone else. But I can't remember him anymore," She continued, and Obito held her tighter. It felt right, to tell him. He's been in her head. It was only safe to assume that he saw the real her, right?

"I know," He rasped. Rin felt her heart jump. Do you truly? "I went through the memories in your head. I've been trying to untangle them, a little. I don't know what I'm doing."

She buried her face into the smell of fire in his chest, thankful for his deranged honesty. "Thank you. Please stay, forever."

She meant it. Perhaps, if he stayed, he could help her feel all those things again.

(She wanted more.)

Obito stayed.

[. . .]

He visited her every day since then.

Whether Rin traveled far or near, he was one step behind, attentive to her like a long-lost bloodhound. Nothing, it seemed, could keep him off her guard. It was nice having a companion other than Shizune and Tsunade. Tsunade was older, so forming a friendship bond didn't feel right. She felt more like a nagging mother with no sense of danger. Shizune didn't count for much, either. Rin thought she loved her like a sister. Friendship didn't describe her bonds right.

But with Obito...

Obito didn't quite feel like friendship, either. But it felt just as real as Tsunade and Shizune, and she wouldn't trade that for anything.

Obito was her friend, maybe. He was there. He made her feel nice.

It gave Rin an idea. An incentive.

"Tsunade," Rin called softly, prompting the woman to turn around just as she reshuffled the bag over her shoulder. They were going toward Konoha territory, though they remained around Cloud still. It'd been a nice change of pace. At her mentor's questioning gaze, Rin continued. "I would like to learn how to use my weapons, now."

Tsunade and Shizune both stopped, staring.

Shizune looked apprehensive. "I'm not sure, Rin-chan... We were hoping—"

Tsunade held up a hand to silence her. She looked upset, yet resigned. "I did tell you I knew someone," She grumbled, a frown marring her features.

Rin waited, feeling the eye of Obito burn her back.

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "...Are you sure, Rin?"

Rin stiffened. "Yes. I am sure."

"It's in Konoha."

Silence.

Shizune nibbled on her bottom lip, "Are you up for it? I know you didn't want to go back to Konoha, but Tsunade set up a bank account for you there just in case something happened so if you want to learn from the Weapon's master you won't have any problem paying for the lessons. The Senju Funds are more than enough."

Rin felt touched. "...I'm up for it," She allowed, even though the name of Konoha felt wrong. She died because of them. Rin knew something. ROOT. ROOT was not human, was not kind.

Her Ghost had gone and found out.

It was why she was here, she felt. Peace as a Ghost was no longer attainable if you could breathe in blood.

"You're an S-ranked secret," Tsunade turned fully around, looking at her stomach. "You're a Jinchuuriki. Jiraiya made sure to keep that Tailed Beast of yours in check with one of his strongest seals, so you're not an active threat. For once that shitty emotional capacity of yours benefits. You aren't angry enough to provoke the thing inside you."

Rin didn't correct her.

"However. You've been declared dead on active duty. In the eyes of the Konoha Populace, you're a corpse."

Rin blinked.

Tsunade continued. "About three years ago, I passed along a message through Jiraiya that you were alive to correct that." Tsunade stopped, gauging her reaction.

Rin wasn't angry. She figured there wouldn't be a bank account if some of Konoha didn't know already.

When it was clear Rin wouldn't lash out at her, Tsunade's brows furrowed with worry. "Do you understand? You're not dead anymore. You can walk into Konoha if you want. Free. Only Hiruzen-sensei knows. The only problem is if you encounter that... other comrade of yours," Tsunade made a face. "The Hatake's aren't known as the coherent type if you get what I mean. Damn bastards carry their grief like oxygen."

"It won't be a problem for the Council to instate you as a Shinobi if they do see you," Shizune pitched in, and Rin looked at her.

She looked sad. "Konoha isn't... well, it's not preferred. But you'll be safe there, learning. Just. Be sure to use the Senju Crest to let them know you don't want to be part of their armed forces. Unless you want to. Then... then we won't stop you." Nobody told Rin that in doing so, she wouldn't be able to leave Konoha. At all. She's a Jinchuuriki. They don't care about her.

Rin eyed both of them. "...You aren't coming with me?"

Tsunade huffed. "I would. If you ask me. But you can handle yourself now," She looked proud of that, "You don't need my protection. Nor Shizune's."

"But what about my head?" Rin whispered. "I'm still... wrong."

Tsunade shook her head. "That may be true, but you're not... Look, kid, I know you've been seeing someone."

Rin didn't know that.

Shizune smiled sheepishly. "Um. I saw you talking with a guy. About... a few days ago?"

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh, brat," Tsunade rolled her eyes. "I figured that's why we kept missing leftovers every other day for the past few years," She snarked, looking at her with slight disapproval. Rin shifted in place. "But I don't give a fuck about that. Clearly you're infatuated with... whoever it is. I don't care if you're having sex, just don't have a baby out here. If you do want one. Hell if I fucking know if you're crazy enough to consider one of those things," She gritted her teeth together, looking repulsed.

Rin frowned. "I am not having intercourse." She was surprised Tsunade wasn't telling her to get rid of Obito. But then again, Tsunade wanted her happy. She didn't care about a lot of things anymore.

And Rin wasn't hers to protect anymore.

"Good. Anyway. Point being, you're not alone. Whoever it is has the hots for you if he's so willing to stalk you and make his presence known like the damn creeper he is," Tsunade raised her voice, angling her head to look over Rin's shoulder with a sneer.

"Tsunade-sama!" Shizune squeaked, mortified.

Tsunade scoffed. "Don't care if he gets offended or not."

Rin looked put off. "You don't care who he is?"

"No. He likes you, simple as that." Her expression shuttered into something akin to grief and compassion.

"That's wholly irresponsible, Tsunade-sama. Especially with everything that happened," Shizune fretted, tugging at her short hair in anxiety.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. The presence of Dan was palpable. Shizune decided to shut her mouth once she took a careful glance at Tsunade, and promptly looked away with a tired huff and a wobbly smile in Rin's direction. Rin tried to return one but dropped it when the corners of her lips didn't follow her instructions. She wasn't good at smiling.

"Anyway," Tsunade regarded Rin, breaking the tension. Her eyes were intense. "What's your final say, Rin?"

Rin breathed in.

Exhaled.

A red eye throbbed in her head.

Isobu swirled with discomfort inside her.

She clenched her backpack strap.

"I'm leaving."

[. . .]

"Rin."

She stopped staring at the glimmering flowers in the moon to look beside her.

One thousand steps apart from Tsunade and Shizune, he revealed himself, emerging from the shadows of the night. They blanket his form, his dark clothes, and his orange mask with black hair framed around it.

Rin walked forward, tilting her head. "Hello," She murmured. "We're not going to Konoha, are we?"

She asked that.

It was her, she was sure of it.

Herself.

Me.

"No," He returned with a rumble, tearing her away from one of her first coherent thoughts. The voices were so quiet now. He was impossibly close, reaching with his gloved hand for her own. "You're coming with me."

And Rin let him lead her away into the darkness.