| [May. 8th, 2014|03:44 am] |
Ryouma's pulse roared like the crashing tide in his ears. His lungs burned, empty, or else filling with breathed-in blood. His own blood, or Genma's, ripped out and turned against him, slipping under his mask, sealing his nose, filling his mouth with hot copper and salt.
Tsuto Sakako had died like this, on her back and fighting for breath, vision shattering into darkness.
But there were no hands to claw away here, no grip to break. His fingers slid over the slick surface of his mask and found no purchase, not even an edge to grip and tear the mask away. Iebara's jutsu covered his head like a caul. He was going to drown on his own blood, choking for air like Sakako and her daughter, and that bastard Mist nin would rip his body open and use his blood to kill his teammates, too—
Noise, beyond the roaring in his ears. A low, rasping voice: "Ram, I've got you. Hold on, don't fight me." Gloved fingers tangled with his own and held them briefly still, then pulled away again. Chakra ignited.
The pressure of the blood-caul broke, and the mask wrenched away. He gasped for a breath.
For a moment there was nothing, just blood and darkness and the surety that Genma'd come too late. Then Genma's chakra rose over against him again, shaping and twisting into something he almost recognized, and plunged inside.
Horror twisted backwards.
The blood ripped out of his lungs and left only fire in its wake.
But there was air on the other side, wet and metallic, harsh with the scent of blood and ozone. He sobbed after it, curling onto his side, wracked with coughs that ripped what was left of his lacerated throat. Genma's gloved hands steadied him. The ground was torn grass and red mud beneath him, but Genma lifted his face from it and braced Ryouma's head against his knee, leaning over him to block the rain. He breathed easier, without the rain pouring down.
"Slow breaths," Genma urged. His throat sounded raw, too. "Try not to cough. Let the air in."
Raidou'd told him the same, when he dragged Ryouma out of the drowning lake of the demon queen's rotting corpse. Ryouma tried to obey again. He was dimly aware of Genma's chakra gathering once more, twisting and splitting into two new shapes: clones, set to guard. |
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