They were being smelly again. Kuromaru sighed and slid himself around a pit suddenly illuminated by cast-off light, feeling oddly exposed. He closed his over-sensitive eyes to slits and rounded the corner, catching sight of the two--no, three, but the other just smelled like a fainter Raidou--men coming down the tunnel.

"Tsume's clearing the area." He glanced at Genma's leg and his ears swiveled against his head. "Watch out up ahead. Stick close to the walls. Couple'a traps that didn't detonate. I think I got 'em all--sent a clone in--but we should still be careful. If you just follow my tail you'll stay safe."

Of course, they were both looking a little unsteady--he discounted the faint-smelling Raidou as a clone, and therefore expendable--and he didn't quite trust their wobbly two legs not to fall right out from underneath them at the best of times. His ears flattened back farther and he looked at Genma, the more unstable of the two, to offer reluctantly, "You need a lift?"

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Kuromaru's offer did what even Raidou's teasing couldn't: it focused Genma on the immediate here and now with a laser intensity. "I'm fine," he snapped. "I don't need to be carried out like some casualty."

He'd been carried out of the prison. Carried nearly-unconscious on the back of Arakaki Mizuno, the brother of ANBU's current director and a senior ANBU himself. He remembered the sudden swarm of ANBU into the cell, remembered the woman frozen in horror in the corner, and the other two, masked and armoured, stepping over the bodies of the freshly-dead Stone ninja to get to him, shackled to a table with bloodied, broken hands held in place for the next blow. One that never came, because Mizuno and his team finally arrived, too late to save Seijuro, but in time for him. He remembered watching Mizuno shove his mask back to look at him with soulful, nearly black eyes under heavy brows. Remembered the older man putting a hand on his shoulder and telling him, "Hang on a little longer, son. We're getting you out now."

This was different.

This was a mission, not a prison. He was walking out of it on his own feet, even if he had to limp. Even if he had to lean on Raidou and his clone. Because this wasn't that place, and Kimura was dead so the genjutsu was broken. Raidou hesitated at his side, and Genma leaned against him. "Not you. You... can help. My leg's a little unsteady. But I don't need to be carried."

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It wasn't easy for a canine to roll its eyes, but Kuromaru managed it, mostly with a twist of his head to indicate what he was doing. Mates. "Then if you two are done bonding," the disgust in his tone was evident, "can we please go?" He paused to glare at Genma once more. "And if you slow us down, I'm going to be very unhappy." He didn't care that it was his bite that caused the slowing, or that Genma was officially the team leader. He only really cared that Tsume smelled like half rotten peaches and he wanted to get her back to safety.

Preferably before anyone else scented the fear-weakness and tried to do something. He gave Raidou a long, hard look, then turned and slid down the wall of the corridor, keeping well clear of the few traps that were left.

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Raidou braced an automatic hand around Genma's waist, and stared after the dog. "...huh," he said finally. He glanced at Genma. "Y'know, I've never been a fan of fur as a fashion. But he's making me want to get a new coat in a hurry. Possibly a hat."

Genma was doing a little of the same with his refusal to be carried, but at least Raidou was pretty sure he knew where that was coming from. Besides, fashioning a Genma-coat from his friend would sort of defeat the whole purpose of back up.

He snorted, banishing the train of thought, and strengthened his chakra link with the clone. White light bloomed strong and bright in the dark. "C'mon, lover boy. Better catch up before dog-boss gets mouthy again."

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"Yeah," Genma agreed, and sent chakra into his leg to ease the swelling away from torn muscle and get it working again. No slowing down, no stumbling, no holding them up. Tsume was out there and not alright. Raidou was barely holding it together. Genma himself was limping and shaking and wanting to cast a dispel every five seconds for a genjutsu that was already broken, leaning on his friend because he needed to, much as he hated to admit it. The faster they got out of the mine and into daylight, the better chances they all would have.


He stared into the dark ahead of them, at the rough walls cast into sharp shadow by the clone's light. He raised bloody hands in front of him, but stopped short of making the seals to create another clone to take the lead. An expendable body to set off any of those traps Kuromaru had warned about, without dispensing with the light behind them would be prudent but expensive. He wanted a clone, but husbanding their remaining chakra was becoming critical. Fighting that genjutsu had drained all of them, Raidou was using more than he should to maintain the one clone and its light, and the metal jutsu Genma'd cast was taxing under the best of circumstances.

"OK, as soon as we get past the trapped section, we run." Genma frowned when Raidou fixed him with a blank stare. "Don't give me that look, I can run. It's hardly more than a scratch," he said dismissively.

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"And hell is just a sauna," said Raidou, with only a trace of frustration. But he moved again, following the path Kuromaru had taken. His grip on Genma didn't slacken. "I'm warning you, brat. The second you fall, I'm roping you onto the dog. No arguments."

Telling Genma not to argue was a little like telling the sea not to be wet, but Raidou found stating his case from the beginning was often the best strategy. That and ignoring any protest Genma came up with.

The clone behind them followed, hands lifted to cast the most light. The chakra drain was starting to make Raidou's chest itch a little, just inside his ribcage. The sensation was always bizarre.

He ignored it until a second source of light flared ahead, dimming the clone's glow. Real light. Outside light. "Thank your gods," he said, half under his breath, and snapped the clone out of existence. "Let's hope Tsume's still waiting for us."

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She slunk around the edge of the earthen bowl, slipping from meager shadow to meager shadow. Somehow, she'd forgotten it was daylight in the time she'd spent below, and instinct warred with memory: darkness was safe, but darkness was where she'd been trapped.

Memory, however, was slowly giving way to instinct, fears melting off as the wolf shape forced a wolf mindset. What had happened didn't matter so much as what was happening.

Birds flicked in the distant forest, chirping with the perfect knowledge that they were safe. Small ground animals grew brave and darted from one hole to another on the far side of the mining field. Kuromaru slid out of the cave, shoulders rolling under his heavy coat, covering ground with a long, loose stride as he trotted toward her. He slowed before he got there, coming to a halt and giving her a quick sniff.

She growled at his presumption, ears flattening back against her head in a clear threat, and slid into a different shadow, just as hazy and shallow as the first. Two men solidified in the darkness, and she paused to watch as they came out.

For a moment she remembered fighting and pain combined with those scents, and her ears remained flat against her head as she wove toward them, slinking back and forth just out of range, hips and tail tucked, head low and wary. Her hackles rose and fell again, and she slipped away quickly toward a mound of dirt only to stop herself and circle, coming closer once more. She lifted her chin, feeling vocal chords warp to create human words. "Can we go?" She smelled blood and pain, though, and eyed the limping one. "Or do you need to be carried?"

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Tsume was there, still in that wolf-shape, and looking more feral than ever. Her wary pacing and stiff shoulders, flattened ears and low tail, all warned that here was an animal cornered and afraid, ready to attack at the slightest provocation. It was hard to think of her as a fellow ninja, an ANBU kunoichi with years of experience, a teammate, when everything about her said she was a dangerous predator. He was worried about her, about her stability, about whether they had any chance at all of making it home, right until she spoke.

"I do not need to be carried!" Genma exploded. "What is everyone's problem asking me that? Does it seriously look that bad? I'm fine!"

Raidou's faint chuckle at his elbow didn't do anything to soothe his temper.

"For fuck's sake! Look," he said, and jerked roughly away from Raidou's grasp. "It's a minor injury. It's nothing!" He slapped a hand against his bandaged thigh to prove his point. His eyes widened at the pain and the wetness of the linen strips, soaked through with bleeding he hadn't even noticed had started afresh.

"The hell kind of saliva do you have?" He shouted at Kuromaru, nostrils flaring, muscles aquiver. "You're like one of those damn snakes that injects you with anticoag. Did you fucking poison me?" All the pent up emotion of that cavern came free here in the cold light of a winter's midday. "Well whatever it was, I'm fine. Now let's get the hell out of here."

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"Right," said Raidou, after the echoes had died away. He glanced down at his waist and began to ferret through the pouches strapped to his belt. In front of them Tsume had backed off a pace, sharp shoulderblades knifing up under fur. She looked all canine, but the blank, unimpressed stare directed at Genma was completely human. To the side, Kuromaru had sat down to bray with laughter.

"Rope," Raidou muttered, searching. "Or twine. String, maybe. You think they'd provide us with string..." He brightened as a coil of slender rope met his fingers, and pulled it free. He snapped it out and studied the six-foot length. "Perfect."

Now the tricky bit.

"You," he said, pinning Genma with a look. "On the dog." The look switched to Kuromaru, who was still laughing. "And you, stand still. Don't bite." He wrapped a loop of rope around his wrist. "I want to go home, and I want to go home fast. If I have to tie the whole lot of you together and drag you, I will. So everyone quit arguing and remember you're ninja possessing at least one brain cell between the three of you."

Then he moved with an ANBU's speed, and picked Genma up with a neat wrist-flex. Mostly to stop him from pitching over and damaging something else. "And you," he added, a shade quieter, "need to re-bandage your leg. Still no arguments."

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It was with some difficulty that Kuromaru managed to stifle his laughter and walk forward, pulling himself up and puffing his chest out to look as big and strong as possible. Definitely bigger and stronger than the puny man. "Don't worry," he said to Genma, pulling his lips up off his teeth in a rictus-like imitation of a human smile. "If my spit's poison, then you'll be dead before the medics start asking why your teammates decided you had to be tied down rather than being sensible and just hanging on."

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If it had been anyone other than Raidou making that grab, he would have been a dead man. As keyed up as Genma was, it was an effort not to let battle-honed reflexes take over, but this was a comrade and a friend; that thought and that alone stayed Genma's hands from reaching for weapons.

Genma snarled at dog and man alike, incoherent with rage at being grabbed. Raidou had him pinned with one arm around his shoulders and another low over his hips, throwing him off balance so that all his weight was on his injured leg. He tried to kick anyway, and snapped his head backwards in an effort to smash his way free. Raidou's grip around his shoulders slipped up into a choke hold, and his left hand dropped away from restraining Genma's hips for a second. A second Genma might have managed to use to break free, if Raidou hadn't slammed a fist directly into the bloodiest patch of bandage.

Genma howled.

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Ninja mercy was an interesting concept. Sometimes it was better to put someone down quick and dirty than it was to let them run two days worth of distance on an injured leg. Especially when that someone's slow pace could get everyone else killed. Genma struggled, Raidou hit him in the one obvious weak spot that wasn't a hand.

Genma screaming, he didn't quite expect.

For a moment Raidou stilled, frozen by the sound he was supposed to protect against, not cause, then he jerked his arm up and choked the noise away.

"Stop," he snapped firmly, speaking right into Genma's ear. "Think, you moron. Or are you trying to bring every enemy right down on our heads?" He didn't know if there was anyone nearby, but he didn't exactly want to find out, either. "You're an ANBU, remember? Don't make me knock you out."

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The choke-hold was enough to stop Genma's breath, and that was enough to stop his struggles. Pain was a surprising thing when it mixed with adrenaline. You could run for miles on a shattered ankle, feeling only a mild ache when your fight or flight system overrode the pain. Or something relatively minor--like a fist to a dog bite on the thigh--could incapacitate you, because you'd drained yourself down to nothing fighting and fleeing already, and your nervous system had nothing more to give to gate the pain.

Genma clawed at Raidou's arm, gagging and gasping as the air was choked out of him. His eyes showed whites all around, teeth bared, but it was his leg that had most of his attention, throbbing with a sick insistence that dragged his awareness down to a few cubic centimeters of macerated flesh.

He stopped fighting, sagging in Raidou's grasp. A part of himself stood outside it, watching the situation with alarm. Wolf-Tsume circled warily, ears still flat against her head, and Kuromaru stared disdainfully. The worst of it was Raidou, though. Raidou having to restrain the man who was supposed to be leading this mission. The shame alone could have choked Genma, even without Raidou's forearm crushing his larynx.

"Let me go," he rasped. "Just let me go."

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Sometimes mercy was a cold thing. "Not yet," said Raidou, locking down the impulse to do as Genma asked. He eased up a fraction, making sure his friend could breathe, and carried him to Kuromaru. The dog was standing, head thrown back, ears pricked up. On his hind legs, Raidou was fairly certain Kuromaru would stand taller than any of them. He was easily strong enough to carry Genma.

"Stay still," Raidou told him, and shifted his grip to settle Genma down onto the summon's broad back. He didn't let go, even when Genma's weight rested in the slight dip behind Kuromaru's sharp shoulders. "Will you stay? Or do I really have to knock you out and lash you down? Because I don't want to do that, but I will."

Raidou wanted to go home, the desire was almost overwhelming. He was done fighting the people he shouldn't have to.

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Kuromaru braced, tensing the muscles along his spine and spreading his legs a little more to remain as study as he could. He was just barely tall enough that the ninja's feet didn't touch the ground on either side of his body even with his legs hanging; that would make running easier, anyway.

Neither ninja smelled happy. His entire temporary pack was falling apart, and he seemed to be the only one stable. Unstable animals tended to fight. Hard to break one up with a man strapped to your back.

He could do it. He'd just rather not. "It's easier to run with strapped dead weight, or conscious unstrapped weight," he growled, feeling the vibrations run through the man's bones and reverberate back. He could carry Genma. He could protect them all. He could break up fights. He just wished humans weren't quite so fragile, really. Near the boulder, Tsume sat in wolf form watching them all with pale, inhuman eyes.

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"I'll cooperate," Genma said in a low, nearly toneless voice. He stared at his bandaged leg, at the blood drying at the edges to a deep burgundy, still fresh scarlet in the center of the stain that shouldn't have been so wide. "Since you bit me, you can carry me. It's only fair," he said, mustering up a combination of stoicism and bravado he didn't really feel.

He wondered if somehow Kuromaru's bite and his and Raidou's repeated assaults on the injured area had managed to break open one of the smaller superficial arteries. The femoral artery was out of the question, too deeply buried, and if it had been hit he'd have been faint with much more severe blood loss than this, or possibly dead already, but something was keeping this wound bleeding despite a fairly tight bandage and a decent span of time since the injury occurred.

Kuromaru shifted under him in a way entirely unlike the motion of a horse or Hoshi, his largest rat, and Genma swayed, grabbing a handful of black fur on Kuromaru's ruff for balance. Gripping with his thighs just made the wound burn and the stain grow.

Raidou was right. He needed to rebandage it. "Rai," he said softly. "Grab me out a compression bandage."

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