| [Feb. 12th, 2010|07:19 pm] |
Genma lost consciousness somewhere outside of the actual gates to the ninja village Hidden in Stone. When he came back to himself, he felt... Nothing. He felt nothing at all. No sense of his own body, no awareness of temperature, no feeling, even, of his own breath. He could hear it, in the grey non-light. Or someone's breath. And the rush-rush-rush of a heartbeat echoing dimly in his ears. Was it his own? It had to be his own, but he couldn't feel it.
Was he dead?
Panic rose like a flash flood roaring through a canyon. He needed air, needed to feel his chest move, feel himself draw breath. The heartbeat accelerated to a frantic crescendo, and the quiet breathing turned raspy.
Faintly, very faintly, he felt a current of air brush his upper lip in time with the harsh panting.
Not dead.
Immobilized. Paralyzed. But that had to be his own breathing he was hearing. It had to be his own heart beating. He forced himself to time the breaths, to slow them down and concentrate on that faint stir of air, almost imperceptible.
Iwagakure had him. Had they broken his neck? Severed his spinal cord?
Or perhaps the chakra coil damage in his brain from Kakashi's attempt at that chakra sieve had been just the tip of the iceberg. He tried to sense his own chakra flow, and found it as absent as physical sensation was from his body.
Perhaps he'd had a stroke.
Panic tried to force its way back in.
He focused his awareness on the crown of his head. Was he really feeling it, or was that just memory and imagination? He tried to raise his eyebrows, to scowl. Nothing. Tried to open his eyes, and was sure he had, but his vision was flat seamless grey.
Why couldn't he see?
The nothing continued. Continued continued continued until he was sure he was going mad.
Focus. He needed to focus. If he could think, he was alive. If he was alive, there was hope.
Did they have Kakashi? Was he being interrogated somewhere, by mask-faced Iwa ninja armed with slender senbon and dull silver mallets? But they were all dead, the rescue team two years ago had killed them all. All.
Logic told him that was a lie. Iwagakure was at least as large a village as Konoha, with at least as many ninja. As many ANBU. As many interrogators.
Was it imagination, or did he really feel a hammer smashing down against his hand?
The dreadful sound of someone being sick filled his ears. A complete inability to breathe sent that distant heartbeat racing again.
And then a voice. A voice he knew the way the mouse knows the scream of the hawk. "Koto, roll him please, and suction that out before he asphyxiates."
Very, very distantly, the sensation of movement. Something hard shoved past his lips, banged against his teeth. Breath, once more.
And that voice, low baritone, far too gentle. Far too alive. "Shiranui Genma. How very nice to see you again. It appears your hands and feet have healed remarkably well."
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