| [Jun. 3rd, 2009|08:51 pm] |
The clone had him under the arms, half holding, half restraining him. Hoshika was at his side, using her broad shoulders to muscle him back onto the bed. Ginta's head lolled against the clone's arm, but his eyes were bright and wild, fixed on Tsuyako and Kakashi. He felt sick and dizzy, pain transmuting into nausea, as he swallowed and tried to answer.
Kakashi's face was bare and blood-smeared, and a fresh trickle of blood ran from one nostril to stain his upper lip. He looked exhausted. Tsuyako looked dead.
What Tsuyako had said...
"We have to get out of here." Ginta grit the words out. He couldn't stop shaking. Couldn't think much past the agony in his legs. But she'd broken. She'd broken, she said. What she'd told them there was no telling.
"She..." He coughed, smoke-tainted foulness, and swallowed again. "How bad?"
The answer to that was obvious: so bad she was a hair's breadth from death. And she'd broken, which sealed her fate. If the Waterfall ninja didn't catch up to them, if she didn't die of her injuries, if she didn't take her own life out of shame, she'd face her Hokage.
He should have let her go. That seizure had been a kindness, but he'd panicked. Hurt and desperate, and now...
"She... Tsuyako... She's.... You can't carry her and me. You probably can't keep yourself going much longer." The clone at Kakashi's side was a wisp of vapor now, vaguely man shaped. The one holding Ginta was still there, but...
"We have to get out of here, now. She broke. They'll have patrols."
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