Mimosa - Naruto
Written for 52_flavours, theme: 2 (let x be the value of he who lies beside me). Sai's thoughts at the time of Shin's death. Naruto © Kishimoto Masashi, et al.
After the sheet had been draped over Shin's face, the other members filed out of the room. Some of them glanced casually at Sai's hands to see if they held drawing instruments or a sketchbook. (He had left them in his room when he heard that Shin's condition had plummeted) The heavy door closed without a sound - they were of Ne, after all - and Sai pulled a chair close to the bed.
He imagined Shin, forever robbed of his loud, brash yell, reduced to the uncertainty of memory. As time went by, Sai knew, the firmness of that memory was bound to disintegrate and even scatter; the lines flowing out of his ink and onto the page would not even be a substitute. A solidified shadow, perhaps? How much of it would be wishful thinking and soluble? Eventually all of it, he wanted to say, and kept his silence. One moment in time could be as powerful as it was transient: since he might forget to be appropriately sad later, now was his chance to say I shall miss you, or You were a good brother, but not so often that the words would grow into a litany.
I wish I could be sadder, even if that's not what you would have wanted, he thought.
Sai sat there for the better part of an hour, hands resting on his knees. From time to time his fingers dipped and rose, forming the curves of Shin's hair, his careless grin; drawing had never been this liberating for him.