| [May. 31st, 2009|07:28 pm] |
When Asuma choked awake, it was to fingers on his lips, blood on his tongue, and panic in his gut. Lowering gloom and the sound of hoarse breathing offered nothing to fix on. He jackknifed up, crashed straight into branches and thorny pine needles, and cried out when something tried to rip him apart at the seam.
One wild hand caught around a fine-boned wrist; the other sank into cloth and dirt and long-dried forest litter, twisting and holding. The answering gasp said he'd captured someone breathing (someone hurt); the open-handed smack against his breastbone drove him back down. He yanked as he fell, hauling the wrist and everything attached to it into his narrow, dizzy field of vision.
A snarled mess of tangled dark hair, skin so pale it gleamed in the nothing-light, slim, scowling brows, frantic eyes, a mouth that should have been pressed narrow and firm--
"Tōu?" It was a brittle-glass gasp, riding on words before thought. And it was so, so wrong.
Varnish-brown eyes (not pale, not golden) widened beneath coal-black hair (not spiky, not purple-blue), and Asuma realized he'd just called a living teammate by a dead one's name. Blood curdled to ash in his mouth.
But there wasn't time to spear himself on grief (never guilt), because his grip had tightened and those were bones grating beneath his hand, and Natsumi (Natsumi) looked half a pale step from swan-diving right off the mortal coil herself.
Asuma released her so fast he risked friction burns--then grabbed again when she jerked and fell, this time catching her by the shoulders. Unbroken fingers splayed over his chest, doing nothing for balance; her other hand held and trembled in midair, twisted fingers just a shadow-shape in the dark. Pain twisted her expression raw.
"Motherfu--." A deep cough misted the air with fine red drops. Why was he spitting blood? "Sorry, darlin', I'm sorry. Just look at me. Breathe slow." Blankets shed and pooled around his hips as he struggled to sit up; it was a failed venture. He braced as best he could and supported Natsumi instead. "Eyes right here, beautiful. Keep 'em on mine. And answer me one question--the hell am I naked for?" |
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