A promise
The next time Tobirama woke up, his body felt like it was in the middle of a snowstorm in the land of snow, hands now warm instead of cool.
Hands which were leaving.
Before he knew it, the (smaller, but rougher) hand was quickly snatched by his own, grip surprisingly strong for a sick person. A pathetic whine left his mouth, now able to open his eyes, even if it was far too dark to be able to see anything now.
"Don't go...."
Whoever it was seemed to freeze, hand which had been struggling to be let go earlier going still.
Slowly, but surely, the hand that he wasn't currently holding went over his eyes again. He loosened his white knuckled grip, letting the hand that he was holding go. It didn't go to join it's partner, instead moving away the hair sticking to his forehead.
A few seconds after that, he felt something soft place itself on his forehead. A kiss? It left him a tad flustered, confused and strangely warm. Not physically, no, he still felt like he was in the middle of a snowstorm in that department, but mentally.
"I'll be right back."
(Tobirama recognized that voice. His brain wasn't willing to cooperate at the moment and provide him with the necessary information to identify him (the voice had been male) but he recognized the voice.)
"Promise...?"
He wasn't sure, but he thinks there was a smile on the psuedo strangers face. It was certainly in his voice, at least.
"Promise."
".... Always?"
And then, he heard a laugh and he was sure that the psuedo stranger had been smiling.
"Always."
And Tobirama believed him. He let him go and do whatever he had been meaning to, he himself slipping back into unconscious with a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach and the soft fluttering of illusionary wings.