[Blue looks over, trying to gauge that response with what little he can glean. funny...even with psionics, he's still mostly a wall - a wall he can perceive more is behind, but all the same...
somehow, Itachi is a consistent kind of presence amidst the tumultuous changes.
that said, there's a soft exhale and a slight shifting sound to make it clear the Mu isn't going anywhere in a hurry.]
（ he rises gracefully from the makeshift futon, moving about his room with the easy precision of the sighted. there is a spare blanket in one cabinet, worn but soft, and he brings it to the bed, holding it out. ）
You have done your best to mitigate my discomfort in our time together. I can only offer the same.
[without knowing what's up, Blue watches him curiously, holding off on asking aloud; the answer comes soon enough, and he's mildly surprised at what's offered, both in gesture and in response.
after a hesitation, he takes the blanket out of Itachi's hands.
with a faintly amused waver in his voice:] Did I sound cold?
[pshaw, no way; Blue will bundle up, and happily so. kindness can be an illusion for only so long, so Blue doesn't find it foolish at all to believe there is merit beyond practiced propriety in such gestures and time spent.
and even if there isn't in the end...the time spent was still time spent. it's just a little while, in the great span of things.]
（ he returns to his spot on the futon, fighting down a wave of nausea. vertigo is an odd, dizzying thing, and he is abruptly aware of how dry his mouth feels. he reaches for his water bottle with the same precision he'd moved about the room — uncaps it and takes a small sip. ）
The boy I forewarned you about. Shikamaru Nara. He is no longer here.
（ purely so. he cannot even guarantee it will work, that it will not make things worse, that it is not all just the soft, wishful, naïve thinking of a man already at his end. ）
（ 'and be silent' is probably inferred, but it's not said with his usual curtness. he is genuinely... concerned for blue's condition, in his own way, and does not conceal it as he generally does behind a wall of practiced stoicism.
shinobi rarely die from illness. he can think of only one person besides himself that has succumbed to slow disease — shisui's father, who had lain in bed with injuries from the war, who was prone to violent flashbacks of the battlefield he would inflict on anyone near him when he was in their throes with the strength of his genjutsu. they used to have to cover his eyes and, as his condition worsened, seal them entirely.
so he is not... accustomed, to adjusting his tolerance of someone's weakness on a scale such as this. most, in his world, die quickly. what is happening to blue is a long, drawn-out thing. and he is worried. ）
[the silence follows quite naturally even without that endcap - it's coaxed along by that gentle current of concern Blue can feel. it squeezes at his heart, leaving behind an ache that is something bittersweet...and he knows speaking to it would only be an offering of pain for a man who seems quite oversaturated with it.
so instead, Blue goes quiet, save for the shifting sounds of better bundling up and settling more comfortably, hoping maybe that much is more assurance than any words he could give.
he can't change the truth of the matter, after all.]
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somehow, Itachi is a consistent kind of presence amidst the tumultuous changes.
that said, there's a soft exhale and a slight shifting sound to make it clear the Mu isn't going anywhere in a hurry.]
...Thank you. Itachi.
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You have done your best to mitigate my discomfort in our time together. I can only offer the same.
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after a hesitation, he takes the blanket out of Itachi's hands.
with a faintly amused waver in his voice:] Did I sound cold?
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（ blue you're a frail sickly geriatric. he's trying to make you more comfortable while you chill out in his space!! ）
If you have no need of it, leave it folded on the bed. I will deal with it later.
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and even if there isn't in the end...the time spent was still time spent. it's just a little while, in the great span of things.]
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The boy I forewarned you about. Shikamaru Nara. He is no longer here.
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eventually:] When resolve is low enough...people are sent back. That's my understanding.
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（ he feels he had a good grasp of the boy's measure. he do not think it was that alone. ）
He is someone who will shape the future of my world. It is better that he does not risk himself changing the past, and failing.
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Your efforts...Will not also do so?
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（ purely so. he cannot even guarantee it will work, that it will not make things worse, that it is not all just the soft, wishful, naïve thinking of a man already at his end. ）
Whatever changes as a result will be incidental.
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From one lens. But...perspective is everything, isn't it.
The changes you wish for...will ripple out. Same as everything.
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Of course. I am not denying they will.
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But it is...all a matter of perspective, isn't it.
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That is life. Everyone creates their own reality. Lives it, and dies in it. What is true is nothing more than perspective, as you say.
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Blue exhales a soft hum.]
Unfortunately...I have no better revelations tied to that, even from a Mu perspective.
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（ 'and be silent' is probably inferred, but it's not said with his usual curtness. he is genuinely... concerned for blue's condition, in his own way, and does not conceal it as he generally does behind a wall of practiced stoicism.
shinobi rarely die from illness. he can think of only one person besides himself that has succumbed to slow disease — shisui's father, who had lain in bed with injuries from the war, who was prone to violent flashbacks of the battlefield he would inflict on anyone near him when he was in their throes with the strength of his genjutsu. they used to have to cover his eyes and, as his condition worsened, seal them entirely.
so he is not... accustomed, to adjusting his tolerance of someone's weakness on a scale such as this. most, in his world, die quickly. what is happening to blue is a long, drawn-out thing. and he is worried. ）
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so instead, Blue goes quiet, save for the shifting sounds of better bundling up and settling more comfortably, hoping maybe that much is more assurance than any words he could give.
he can't change the truth of the matter, after all.]