| [Jan. 15th, 2017|07:29 pm] |
Sky replaced water at last. Ryouma coughed. His lungs burned, but inflated. He was lying on sodden ground in a litter of broken branches and ruined leaves, and Kakashi was bending over him with a shrieking baby still lashed to his chest.
"Did you get crap in your lungs again?"
A slender young tree trunk dented Ryouma's ribcage. He shifted his grip, hoisting himself up. "Good to see you alive, too."
"You had doubts?" Kakashi caught his elbow and helped heave him up, one-handed. The other arm was still firmly wrapped around Sango, as she thrashed and wailed.
They both looked wave-battered, sodden and breathless. Small cuts lacerated Kakashi's hands, and bark shards clung to his clothes. The tip of one ear was crusted with dried blood, as if he'd just missed a shuriken, but his much-abused allergy mask still clung to his face. He scanned Ryouma with the same quick concern, and sighed relief.
Then he looked back, finding Genma and Raidou picking themselves out of the mud on opposite sides of the island, and Kimiko splashing with unsteady chakra-edged steps over the pond. He frowned. "Where's Fukuda?"
Kimiko's step faltered, sinking her to the knee. But she found her footing again, and lurched out of the water. Kakashi tried to help her release Sango from the drenched wrappings; Kimiko seemed not to notice. She tore Sango free and cradled her screaming child to her breast, head bent, arms wrapped so tightly the baby's shrieks reached a higher pitch.
Raidou gripped her shoulder, pulled her away. Sango's cries muffled, then stopped, as Kimiko sat down heavily on an uprooted tree. Raidou stood with his back toward her, watching the curling mist.
Kakashi said, pressing, "Fukuda."
Ryouma looked down at his hands.
Genma squelched through the trees toward them, and thumped a half-empty water bottle against Ryouma's chest. He looked past them, at Kimiko, then met Kakashi's eye unflinchingly. "She died of internal injuries from our fight in the sewers."
The worried pinch between Kakashi's brows wiped clean. His face was perfectly blank, as empty and accusing as Raidou's porcelain moon mask. He looked at Ryouma, and said nothing.
Genma said sharply, "She took a bad hit from one of her own people, but she didn't let us know how bad until it was too late. I tried to save her. I couldn't."
At least Genma'd tried. Ryouma'd tugged her stumbling through three and a half kilometers of sewer, and never bothered to notice she was dying. |
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