“…I can get up. It’s fine.” dumb ouji-san tbh
“You sure about that?” Obito eyes him with heavy doubt in his gaze, clearly believing not a word. “‘Cause it doesn’t look like it to me.”
He pauses for a moment, hovering between ignoring him and actually helping, and after another few seconds of staring, he sighs and relents. If only because he still has a soft spot for old geezers, even if this one should be long dead and refuses to stop harassing him about his strange plans. When Madara gets on a tangent, like any other granny or grandpa, he can go on for hours. And trapped in this cave, Obito has nothing better to do but listen in between rehabilitation. That, or listen to Guruguru talk about defecation, and he’ll pass on that.
His right arm is somewhat stable, but probably not enough to shoulder any significant weight, so he props up the old man on his left side, easing him into a standing position.
“You don’t have to use the bathroom, do you?” He eyes the other Uchiha from the corner of his remaining eye with trepidation, hoping the answer is no. He’d suggested it in the beginning, but he didn’t actually want to deal with that… Way too awkward, especially with a man of legend (even if he was just any old rambling elder now).
… Come to think of it, what did he do before Obito came? And all this time after? Maybe he’s like the Zetsu and Guruguru. Hopefully. He doesn’t want to think about the alternative. Ugh.
He holds him steady, carefully, in an awkward sort of embrace, Madara’s arm thrown over his left shoulder, and wonders. How in the world are they even going to go anywhere with those things sticking out of his back? It’s sort of creepy, but surrounded by artificial humans and his own messed-up body, he supposes he doesn’t really have room to talk.
