| [Jun. 3rd, 2009|10:09 pm] |
They'd stopped moving. Ginta was on his back, on damp-smelling earth. The sun was high enough now, but there was fog masking it, making it a bright silver disk in a sky of ash. It took a moment to understand what had happened--had he passed out? He must have. They must have reached the river. He turned towards a sound of water--Kakashi standing hip-deep in the cool, grey flow of the river, sluicing water over his shoulders. Mist rose around him in wisps, giving him a ghostly look.
Tsuyako was... Ginta raised his head just enough to catch a glimpse of the bright-colored blanket still concealing her body. Then the clone was there. Still there, still silent. It put one gloved hand under Ginta's head, the other on his chest, looking at him imploringly. Kakashi's face, but not. It reached for a canteen, holding it to Ginta's mouth. The canteen was full, the water cold. It sloshed against his lips and dribbled down his chin. He closed his eyes and tried to swallow.
When he opened them again, the clone was still kneeling beside him, but the canteen was gone. It was carefully bathing his face with a wet strip of bandage. Kakashi--the real Kakashi--was out of the water now. There was a deep trench in the river bank, and he was kneeling next to it, easing a flower-strewn bundle into the earth. For a moment, as her body tumbled into its final resting spot, Tsuyako's hand was exposed. The one they hadn't desecrated. Her fingers looked almost alive when Kakashi grasped the hand and carefully folded it down over her unseen body.
Ginta turned away and shut his eyes.
The clone had an arm under his shoulders. The fog was still there, still billowing over the sun like a widow's veil. Kakashi was there, looking down at him, dressed in stolen clothes. The dogs were there, too. Hoshika whined, and touched Ginta's palm with her nose. The clone slipped his other arm under Ginta's knees and lifted. Broken bone ends grated, and Ginta's eyes flew wide.
He didn't see Kakashi move, but he felt the chakra. In the second before he could cry out, the world arced white, then black.
They ran. The river was a distant memory, the sun already past its zenith, and trees in early leaf shielding them before Ginta woke again. For a moment he was falling. Two dogs barked. He twisted in midair, and then Kakashi's arms were under him. He smelled of fire and sweat, and the heaving chest Ginta rested against was hot. Not the clone.
Kakashi panted for air.
"Take a break," Ginta rasped.
Kakashi didn't answer.
"Put me down and take a break, before you kill yourself." |
|