| [Jun. 2nd, 2009|10:36 pm] |
"Tease," Asuma accused with a breathless laugh. "Shameless, man-baiting kunoichi with no idea how hot she is..." He stumbled over a bare root and almost crashed down a steep verge. Natsumi caught him by the elbow, jarring him to a side-wrenching halt. For a long, painful moment, he stopped breathing.
When he opened his eyes again, the world slunk cautiously back, and they kept moving. Natsumi's hand stayed on his elbow until he recovered himself enough to shrug it off, determined to keep moving under his own power. Her promise rattled around in his head, bolstering him when even pride faltered, when pain blossomed into agony. It was just a kiss, not even close to a sweaty, horizontal tangle, but--
He didn't care. It was a goal. And all he had to do was glance back at her, see her determined dark eyes and remember the way she'd stood on that falling cliff edge, refusing to run even when the rock shattered around her, coolly firing two shots that had saved his life, to think he was getting pretty damn lucky.
You'll probably be bored by the fifth mile.
Yeah, and the sky would catch fire.
He spent another half mile seeing flames licking around the corner of his vision before Natsumi asked if he needed to rest. Asuma rasped something that might have been: And lose out on my reward? Are you kidding? before dodging the hand that tried to press against his sash-covered forehead. Natsumi let him go, staying just behind his left shoulder, matching her pace to his staggering one. At some point he wound up with the canteen pressed into his hand; half the water was already gone before he really started paying attention to it, then he rationed every mouthful, drinking only when his mouth grew painfully dry. They were heading away from the river; water was a precious resource.
He forgot to ask if Natsumi had drank. When he remembered, she waved away the canteen with a weary patience, as if he'd already offered twice and forgotten.
And they kept moving.
Asuma lost track of distance and direction roughly around the same time, when the map became a complex series of unintelligible squiggles and the stars blurred together. The moon drifted high overhead, cut like a silvery coin. Natsumi's hand found its way to his elbow more and more, pulling him back every time he veered off-course. She seemed to get colder as time passed; he couldn't tell if hypothermia was sinking its claws in, or if he was just getting hotter.
It was amazing, he thought dizzily, that someone could be this hot. The thought made him laugh, made him bend over his knees and gasp through shuddery, half-hysterical breaths. When Natsumi asked why, alarm sharpening her voice, he spun out half a bad joke (I'm smokin', babe), flattened both hands over the supernova burning his ribcage up from the inside out, and landed on his knees. His vision tunnelled, catching fire at the edges; his wounded leg screamed. He drew a racked breath and threw up nothing but bile.
"D-damn." It was a raw gasp. "Think--that's only--half a kiss." |
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