Whumptober, Day 30 - Kakashi/Tenzo

Prompt:Digging your grave (major character death, left for dead, ghosts)
Fandom:Naruto
Characters:Kakashi/Tenzo
Rating:T
Words:1346
Notes:For@vibgyoroygbiv who didn’t request this but needs this hurt as much as I do lol

——-

“I love you,” Tenzo whispered, running his fingers through Kakashi’s silver hair. He brushed the soft strands away from the other man’s forehead. The Copy Nin wasn’t wearing the hitai-ate that usually slanted across his face, and Tenzo let his gaze wander over the long scar that had taken Kakashi’s original eye. The jonin rarely sat still long enough for Tenzo to appreciate his beauty the way that he was able to right now. Of course, Kakashi was every bit as beautiful in motion, so Tenzo never really minded.

Kakashi looked peaceful, another thing that almost never happened. The man carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and had for as long as Tenzo had known him. Even in their early days of Anbu, Kakashi shoulders burdens far too heavy for a boy his age. Tenzo understood the immensity of an inescapable past better than most, and he’d recognized it in his captain. That had been one of the things that drew the men together. Somehow, in the darkness of Anbu, they’d saved each other.

As he gazed down, Tenzo’s chest constricted and his knees almost gave way. It hurt to draw air into his lungs. His hand slid over Kakashi’s cheek, and he leaned down to meet their lips together in a gentle kiss. Tenzo lingered, tears filling his eyes and running down his cheeks, until he heard the door open behind him. For once, the sound caught the Anbu off guard.

A feminine cough announced the presence of the Hokage, and Tenzo straightened from adjusting Kakashi’s mask over his mouth. Light brown eyes met darker ones, and Tsunade nodded. “It’s time.”

Tenzo nodded and wiped his cheeks. He allowed himself one final squeeze of Kakashi’s hand before following Tsunade from the room. He composed himself on the walk to the cemetery, recalling every ounce of training Anbu had given him. By the time Tenzo reached Kakashi’s student, his face had taken on a mask of shinobi emotionlessness.

The younger ninja didn’t fare as well. Tears clung to Naruto’s golden lashes, and his face was splotched in red, but he managed to hold himself together for most part. Sakura did better, surprisingly. Her hands clenched against her pants and her nose was tinged pink from crying earlier, but no tears fell. Tenzo rested a hand on each of the student’s shoulders without speaking.

Distant thunder rumbled as Tsunade began, extolling Kakashi’s strength, virtue, and sacrifice. Tenzo muted the Hokage’s words to a buzz, choosing to remember the way that Kakashi’s eyes creased when he smiled. He pictured the effortless way that Kakashi shoved his headband up and moved through combat as if he were invincible. Kami, Tenzo’s always thought he was. Kakashi was almost untouchable, in battle anyway.

Tenzo’s favorite image would always be Kakashi in bed, a gorgeous flush of desire on his pale cheeks as he watched Tenzo crawl toward him. The memory gripped his throat, forcing the air out. A sob lodged there, held there by pure willpower. Icy rain splashed onto Tenzo’s face, cold tendrils worming through his hair and down his cheeks. Warm tears joined it before he could stop them. Brilliant lightning flickered across the sky. Tenzo glanced up, welcoming the reminder of Kakashi as Tsunade drew the memorial to a close.

Slowly, people began to drift away. A few spoke to Tenzo, but he didn’t recognize the words. He probably responded, or they took his silence as an answer. Either way, the cemetery emptied of everyone except Kakashi’s team. Sakura stood by Tenzo’s side until everyone else had gone. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug, then lifted on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. Tenzo felt nothing. “Why don’t you come back to my apartment, I’ll make something for dinner and we can-

“Thank you, no,” Tenzo interrupted, forcing his emotions into a tight ball of agony that he held away from his countenance.

“We could watch a movie, or play cards, or go get ramen,” Naruto offered, his blue eyes brighter from the tears that left tracks down his whiskered face.

Tenzo made himself smile. “Kakashi was so proud of you, of the shinobi you’ve become,” he offered to soften his refusal. Kakashi didn’t say it often enough. Tenzo nodded toward the village. “I appreciate the offer, but why don’t you two go ahead? I’m fine.”

Naruto started to argue, but Sakura caught his arm. She bit her lower lip, eyes watery. Tenzo hated the feeling that she saw through his guise, hated the knowing expression. “You know where to find us if you want to talk. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

The rain increased, slicking Sakura’s pink hair to her face. Tenzo mumbled a thank you without meeting her gaze. He watched the pair leave, disappearing around the bend that led back to Konoha. Thunder rumbled again, and Tenzo moved closer to the flower covered slab that held an image of Kakashi. The photograph didn’t look like him; the hokage robes weighed down his shoulders, and the hat shadowed his beautiful, charcoal grey eyes. Kakashi stared soberly back at Tenzo.

Fingers traced the cold, damp glass that differed so much from Tenzo’s memory. Even so, it was Kakashi, his Kakashi. Pain flared from Tenzo’s knees when his legs gave way, cracking against the hard stone. A sob rose in Tenzo’s throat before he could stop it, and for once, he didn’t try to hold it back. The strength of emotion took him by surprise, squeezed his chest until the world grew dark at the edges. Tenzo sucked a desperate breath into his lungs, only to sob it out the next second. The noise was louder than the rain, louder than the thunder, louder still than the heart beat that he wished would simply stop.

Tenzo crumpled forward, head resting against his knees until the sound quieted. The sobs never ended, but his body had nothing left to give. He stayed there until he felt a hand touch his back. He found Tsunade above him, a bottle of sake in the hand that wasn’t touching him. “Mourn him in private,” she offered, voice gentle. “Not here, and not like this.”

Before Tenzo could think of an answer, the former Hokage pressed the bottle into his hand. He stared at it in confusion, before tipping it toward the sky. The alcohol burned his throat, somehow loosening the pain he’d held there. The tears started again. “I can’t do th–”

“Yes, you can,” Tsunade interrupted, taking the bottle back. She took another long drink, then sat it on the stone and pulled Tenzo to his feet. “You can, and you will. Kakahsi wouldn’t want you to fall apart because of him.”

Tenzo nodded, unable to form words. He didn’t need them; Tsunade continued. “He’d want you to be there for his team when he can’t, for his friends. You’re the last piece of him that they have.”

The blonde’s eyes took on a distant expression as she spoke, and Tenzo knew that she was speaking from experience. He blew out a breath. “How do you do it?”

“Copious amounts of alcohol and sarcasm,” Tsunade laughed, releasing Tenzo to take another drink. “But, you’ll probably manage through gardening and yoga or some shit like that. But you have to keep going; don’t let his sacrifice be in vain, Tenzo.”

The man lifted his head to meet Tsunade’s eyes, surprised that hearing his name sent a flash of warmth through his frozen chest. For years, it had been Kakashi’s to use, something private between the two of them. Now, every time that Tenzo heard it, he would think of the changes that Kakashi had brought about in his life.

“Thank you,” Tenzo murmured, pushing his damp hair away from his face. He glanced back toward the soft light of the village, hazed by the drizzle that clung to the air, and wondered if it was too late to take Sakura and Naruto up on their offer. He could do this, for Kakashi.

Whumptober, Day 29 - Shikmaru/Ino

Prompt:All work and no play (“you’re still not dead”, too weak to move, overworked)
Fandom:Naruto
Pairing:Shikamaru/Ino
Rating:T
Words:738
Notes:Requested by @cinlat

—————-

Dusk faded toward night, falling over the training field like a heavy blanket. Kunai, shuriken, and armor littered the ground. Shikamaru’s head hung down, sweat dripping from his chin and the disheveled hair that had come loose from his normally tight ponytail. Drawing air into his lungs sent sharp stabs of pain through his back. His legs and arms trembled as he pushed himself upright. “Again.”

Ino shook her head, tipping up her water bottle “No, you need to take a break. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“Do it again,” Shikamaru hissed, swiping at the bead of sweat running into his eyes.

The pair had been at the training ground since midday, but Shikamaru wasn’t satisfied with the result. Half a dozen wounds riddled his body, a testament to the fact that he still wasn’t good enough. Ino looked better for the wear, but he knew that she hid it well. Shikamaru hadn’t managed to land as many hits as she had, but fighting shadow possession took a toll on the body.

The girl huffed out a breath and tossed the bottle to Shikamaru. He caught it on reflex as Ino sank to the ground. “I’m tired,” she complained. “We’ve been working at this all day.”

“And, I’m going to keep going until we get it right,” Shikamaru growled. “I’m not going to risk another failure in the field because we didn’t work hard enough.”

Ino tipped her head to the side, studying Shikamaru with those aquamarine eyes that seemed too knowing lately. “It wasn’t a failure,” she corrected, voice firm. “It was a death.”

Overwhelming agony swelled in Shikamaru’s chest as Ino scooted toward him without standing. She rested a hand on his thigh, moving until her gaze filled his vision. “Asuma died,” she repeated. “He died, and it wasn’t your fault. Overworking yourself to the point of death won’t change that.”

“If I’d been faster or better, I could have protected him. I should have–” Something swelled in Shikamaru’s throat, cutting off the rest of the words. He squeezed his eyes shut before the tears could start again.

Ino pulled Shikamaru against her, and for a moment he had a disorienting realization of how soft her body was. Then, her hand was rubbing his back as if that could remove the pain that lodged there like a kunai. “He gave his life for yours,” Ino breathed, voice tight with the emotions choking Shikamaru. “It was his choice.”

But, it wasn’t fair, the childish part of Shikamaru cried out, tantruming against the price that being a shinobi exacted. None of it was fair. Why did it have to be Asuma? Why did it have to be me? Why couldn’t things have gone differently?

There were no answers, only more questions that piled on Shikamaru’s chest like a stone. It compressed his lungs, squeezing them until every breath was a physical pain. Something brushed against his lips, breaking the cycle of impossible thoughts. Ino held the water there, tears shining on her cheeks. She offered a tenuous smile that didn’t touch the hurt reflected in her gaze.

Shikamaru raised a hand to take the bottle, but his thumb brushed the tears from Ino’s cheek instead. She exhaled in a jagged, broken breath. The echo of pain in her eyes somehow managed to make him more aware of the ache beneath his breastbone. But, it lessened the sharp prick of abandonment at the same time.

Releasing the tension in a breath, Shikamaru tipped his head forward to catch Ino’s lips in a first kiss that he’d never imagined until that moment. The tentative brush did something warm and explosive along his sternum. Ino squeaked and pulled back, fumbling the water in her haste. Cold splash across Shikamaru’s stomach as he scrambled to the side. He watched the puddle spread in the dirt, embarrassment replacing the pain momentarily.

Ino crouched a couple of feet away, cheeks flaming crimson. Heat crept up Shikamaru’s neck as he rubbed it with a damp hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

When Ino moved closer and raised her hand, Shikamaru tensed for a slap. Her fingers traced his cheek bone instead, triplicating the blush under his skin. Ino’s tongue darted across her lips, then she smiled. “Let’s give it a second try,” she chuckled, “without the surprise, this time.”

Before Shikamaru could answer, Ino’s soft lips were against his, and the world was spinning.

Whumptober, Day 28 - Kakashi and Minato

Prompt:It’s not just in your head (“good, you’re finally awake”, nightmares, panic)

Fandom:Naruto

Characters:Kakashi and Minato

Rating:T

Words:1299

Notes:I suppose there are spoilers if you don’t know Kakashi’s backstory here. Also, this one was one of the more painful ones for me. Baby Kakashi needed all the love and protection, but he never got it.

————

Agony shot through Kakashi, stabbing his body like a million burning daggers. His stomach roiled, vomit forcing its way into his throat. The muscles clenched and shook, trying to fight the sensation, but he lost the battle. Flares exploded behind his left eye, driving him toward darkness. Kakashi’s mind refused to seek the solace of unconsciousness. Why?

Rin.

The memory slammed into Kakashi. His lungs refused to work under the weight, refused to pull the air in fast enough. He fought toward his feet, but mud clung to his legs and arms, gluing him to the ground. A cry of Rin’s name rose in Kakashi’s throat, but he couldn’t force it out. Bodies covered the clearing, foreign shinobi with sticky blood pooling beneath them. Gaping wounds yawned in their chests, sides, and throats. They’d died where they stood, slumping to the ground.

Ice washed through Kakashi’s veins as he absorbed the scene. He tried to speak, but his muscles refused to cooperate. A second, stronger wave of nausea drove him back to his knees. Trembling hands jerked his mask off in time to empty his stomach a second time. He wiped away the bile with the back of one hand. Kakashi croaked Rin’s name, but it sounded distant over the roaring in his ears.

A memory flitted around the back of Kakashi’s mind, insistent as a fly. He couldn’t worry about that; he needed to find Rin. Kirigakure had captured her, then Kakashi left to rescue her by himself and, and, something. His mind shied away from the thought. The ground tilted and pitched under Kakashi’s feet, as he noticed the puddle of crimson by his feet.

Brilliant blue light and the excited, chittering of birds filled the air. Terror made Kakashi move faster than he thought possible, almost too quick for the sharingan to compensate. His palm encountered warm resistance, then slid through. Blood dripped from his fingertips. The world shattered. Rin coughed blood. A scream echoed. Kakashi went hoarse before he realized it came from him. Darkness.

“–happened here?”

“Over there!”

“Is he dead?”

“–is that—?

The voices overlapped and reformed in ways that Kakashi couldn’t make sense of. He shivered when someone forced an eye open, and batted at the hand. Mud glued his arms to the ground. Something tugged at his wrist, then his ankle. He tried to fight off his captor, but moving was impossible.

“–one person–?” The whisper came from alarmingly close to Kakashi’s ear but he couldn’t turn his head to capture the rest of the words. They were too soft. He fled into unconsciousness.

“We need a medic!”

The cry jerked Kakashi back to semi-coherence. He opened his eyes, but blinding light forced them shut. Activity buzzed around him, but it could have been happening to someone else for all the notice Kakashi took. Frantic machines beeped, warm hands replaced the chill on his skin, something pinched his wrist, his head dropped against a pillow, then Rin’s face floated across Kakashi’s vision, blood running from the corners of her mouth.

“–in shock.”

“We’re losing him—”

The cold felt like an old friend, wrapping its arms around Kakashi. He surrendered to the embrace of oblivion.

Hours or lifetimes passed; Kakashi opened his eyes. The awkward semi-darkness of a late night surrounded him, not quite dark or light. The hospital room was silent except for a steady beep from beside the bed. He didn’t need to turn toward the sound to know that it belonged to a heart-rate monitor. Kakashi blinked twice, trying to remember why he was there. A chill raced through his body, causing his muscles to tremble involuntarily. Someone shifted beside the bed rising to tuck the blankets more tightly.

A swirl of yellow filled Kakashi’s vision, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Minato’s familiar face brought a surge of panic. Kakashi caught his lower lip between sharp teeth until the copper tang of blood entered his mouth. The heart rate monitor sped toward an unhealthy rate, betraying him. Minato watched the number creep higher; panic squeezed Kakashi’s lungs.

Warmth washed over Kakashi’s bare shoulder. “It’s okay,” Minato murmured. “You’re safe now.”

Panic snapped to anger so quickly that Kakashi’s head spun. “Safe,” he spat the word back like venom. “Rin is dead, and you think I care about being safe?”

Minato’s features softened as he dipped his head. “I’m sorry, Kakashi.”

“You could have been there,” Kakashi growled, cutting off whatever else Minato had been planning to say. “You could have saved her if you cared enough. Did you know what they planned to do? Did you know they’d sealed a tailed beast inside her?”

Kakashi didn’t need the pity in Minato’s eyes to know the answer. Of course the man had known. Alarms rang beside the bed, but Kakashi ignored them. “She killed herself,” he hissed through his constricted throat, fighting the surge of memory that threatened to overwhelm him. “She threw herself in front of my chidori.”

Hot blood ran down Kakashi’s hand, mixing with the cold rain. His name gurged through the crimson that spilled down Rin’s chin with her final breath. A hand clutched the front of his shirt

“If I could have done–”

“Don’t,” Kakashi wished the memory would stop replaying in his mind. Minato paused, then started to speak a second time, but Kakashi interrupted. “I don’t want your excuses, and I don’t need your absolutions. You weren’t there when we needed you most, either time.”

The beeping reached a dangerous crescendo, and the door crashed open. Feet slapped against the floor as a nurse hurried into the room. Minato stepped away from the bed, providing the woman access to her charge. Fingers caught Kakashi’swrist, checking the reading of the monitor. “Are you in pain?”

Kakashi almost laughed at the question. He focused on breathing through his nose and controlling the gallop of his heart. Rin had taught him–the beeping increased again. No, only think about blackness. Nothing but empty darkness around me. No emotions, no memories, nothing but the calm, steady beat of my heart.

Gradually, the alarm lessened then stilled. “You should try to rest,” the woman said, offering the same useless advice that they always did after trauma. “I could get the doctor to sign off on a sedative if you’d like.”

“No,” Kakashi growled. Escaping into a drug induced stupor was a disservice to Rin’s memory.

“Thank you,” Minato offered in place of Kakashi’s ungratefulness. “I’ll make sure that he gets some sleep.”

The woman tsked under her breath and watched Minato for a long moment, undoubtedly trying to decide whether or not she had the authority to remove the jonin. With a shake of her head, the woman left them alone.

Anger boiled beneath the surface of Kakahsi’s calm, but he held his tongue and stared at the ceiling. Minato moved close enough to be clear in Kakashi’s peripheral vision. The man appeared to have aged years since Kakashi saw him last, three weeks earlier. Dark shadows rimmed the blue eyes that sought Kakashi’s. He stubbornly looked away from the gentle gaze to focus on the brown flecked tiles overhead.

“Kakashi,” Minato prodded, reaching out a second time. “I know you’re hurting and angry. You have every right to be, but one day you’ll understand–”

“The village comes first,” Kakashi finished, clenching his jaw tight enough that his teeth ached. He didn’t look at Minato; he couldn’t bear to see the confirmation in the eyes that he’d once trusted. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes against the tears building behind them. “I need to sleep.”

Minato sighed, soft and uncertain, then shook his head. “As you wish.”

Kakashi compartmentalized the pain and held it together until the door shut behind Minato. Then, the tears fell.

Whumptober, Day 27 - SaiIno

Prompt:I’m fine, I prom…(passing out,vertigo, collapse)
Fandom:Naruto
Pairing/Characters:Sai and Ino (from Healing Hands)
Rating:T
Words:926
Notes:Requested by @cinlat . All the background stories from Healing Hands are getting to me XD they need their own place!

Ino stared at the papers in front of her, rereading each line to make sure that she understood. A headache nagged at the back of her mind, but she probably hadn’t drank enough water today. She’d been pouring over her father’s notes on mental health evaluations and the expectations of shinobi for hours. Inoichi cared about the men and women in the village, but he’d been more focused with getting information from enemies than protecting his own.

An uncomfortable feeling like disappointment tugged at Ino’s stomach. She hated to think anything less of the man for not enforcing tighter protocols. Her father had lived in a different world, one that was at war as often as it was at peace. They’d turned out child soldiers without batting an eye, and Ino knew they would do it again. But, she remembered the fire in her father’s eyes when she’d been nominated for the chunin exams, and the way he’d held her against his chest until her body spent its sobs after Asuma died. There was a tenderness to Inoichi as well.

The life of a shinobi wasn’t black and white; it was filled with contradictions. Ino understood that, now more than ever. Sakura had raised a lot of good points when she’d dropped by T&I the other day. So much so that Ino couldn’t stop thinking about it. She wondered about the Anbu who needed help and never showed up in her office, and the regular shinobi who thought it was a weakness to need help. They’d all been taught the same things.

Sakura was onto something with the idea of making T&I more friendly and accessible. Ino needed to talk to Osamu about the way he handled intakes, for starters. He’d always been a bit of standoffish—

“You’re working late tonight.” The words startled Ino from her thoughts. She jumped when hands came to rest on her shoulders. “Easy,” murmured a soft, familiar voice.

A smile slid onto Ino’s lips before she could stop it. “You’re back early.”

“Yes,” Sai agreed, removing the white mask that hid his features from the world when on mission. He must have just gotten back into Konoha to still be in uniform. “We didn’t encounter any resistance.”

Ino laid her head against the back of her chair, humming softly when Sai brushed his lips against her inverted forehead. “You should have given me some warning,” she chided, fussing over the hair she hadn’t bothered styling that morning. “A woman likes to look her best when she sees someone special.”

“You’re implying you don’t always look your best.” Sai’s pale features scrunched in confusion. He moved to sit on the edge of Ino’s desk, studying her face with dark eyes. “You’re a bit paler than normal perhaps, are you—”

Raising one hand, Ino cut off the words. “We’ve talked about this. I wasn’t speaking literally.” The start of a smile pulled at Sai’s lips, and she rolled her eyes. “Annnnd, you knew that?”

“I did.” The smile softened the sharp edges of Sai’s features. “I’m learning.”

Ino sat forward, resting a hand on Sai’s knee. Black fabric tensed beneath her fingers then relaxed. She glanced up through her eyelashes, watching the delicate blush play across his cheek bones. Her second hand came to the opposite knee, squeezing the muscle as she grinned. “What else have you learned?”

The blush on Sai’s cheeks shifted toward crimson, but his smile never faltered. “A few things, but you’ll need to come closer so I can show you.”

“Hmm,” Ino purred. She stood and leaned in. “Tell me more.”

The edges of Ino’s vision grew indistinct, stars bursting across the edge of her vision. The room tipped underfoot, and her stomach leaped into her throat. Ice washed through her body, numbing it entirely. She saw herself standing, saw Sai bring a hand up to her cheek, but couldn’t feel anything. Darkness swallowed the world.

Some time later, Ino opened her eyes to the familiar ceiling of her office. Sai had moved them to the floor at some point. He cradled head in his lap,and worry creased his brow. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Ino pulled herself into a sitting position, trying to ignore the way the room swam in and out of focus. “I just stood up too quickly.”

“You’ve never fainted before.” Sai didn’t move from his spot on the floor, wrapping an arm around Ino’s back. “I could go find Sakura and have her check you over. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

Ino shook her head. The room steadied, leaving only a vaguely nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. Another inhale stilled the panic that fought to rise toward the surface. “I’m okay, really,” She squeezed Sai’s forearm. “I stood up too quickly, and I haven’t eaten much today. I’m fine.”

After watching Ino for a moment, Sai inclined his head. “Then, it’s my duty to take you to dinner.” At her frown, he laughed softly and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “My duty, and my pleasure, always.”

Sai stood, then offered his hand to help Ino back to her feet. She wobbled for a moment, then forced herself to stand firm. She took one step, then another. Sai nodded. “If it happens again though, I’m taking you to Sakura. Even if that means I have to carry you there myself.”

“Fair enough.” Ino brushed her lips lightly against Sai’s jaw before hooking her arm though his. “Now, tell me about your mission.”

Whumptober, Day 26 - Setsumi/Genma

Prompt:You will go down with this ship (fallen, waterfall, trap door)
Fandom:Naruto
CharactersGenma/Setsum (OC from Heart in a Silver Cage)
Rating:T
Words:677
Notes:Requested by @cinlat

Sweat burned Genma’s eyes, running down to sting the cuts that littered his body. He wheezed and pushed himself forward. No matter how much he’d trained, the humidity in the village sapped his strength. He couldn’t draw a full breath, and the ones that he managed felt like they were at least half water. He jerked his chin upward to throw sodden hair from his eyes and paused in the shadow of some trees.

“What are you doing,” Setsumi hissed, skidding to a stop beside Genma. Her black curls stood out in disarray, and her purple eyes were wild. “We have to keep going.”

“They know this place better than we do,” Genma hissed, looking around them for a hiding place. Grunting, he reached for his side; his hand came away bloody. He wiped the crimson liquid on his pants. “Fuck.”

Setsumi followed the movement, then rolled her eyes. “I told you not to engage them.”

“Oh, thanks,” Genma deadpanned, walking his fingers across his ribs through the gash in his shirt. “That’s really helpful right now.”

The annoying woman offered a sickly sweet smile. “Any time.”

Huffing, Genma put pressure on the wound and wished that he’d been able to wear his flak vest. It would have stopped the blade that bit into his side, but it also would have blown their cover. Half a dozen cuts marred his body, but they were meaningless in comparison. This one would almost certainly need stitches. Genma shuddered as he recalled Setsumi stitching up the gash from his initiation This time, he’d find a medic who wouldn’t ask questions no matter how difficult that was.

Something heavy crashed through the brush behind them, followed rapidly by yells. Genma sighed and pushed back onto his feet. “We have to move.”

The tropical forest was different from the one that Genma had grown up in. The dense, heavy foliage grabbed for legs and arms, making it hard to flee through. Genma and Setsumi made for a river twisting between the trees; it would be the best chance of getting back to the village or some form of civilization. If they could make it back to a crowd, Genma was sure that they’d be able to lose their pursuers. Setsumi grumbled behind him, legs tangling in the creepers that littered the floor.

A kunai sailed past Genma’s head, opening a thin gash on the side of his neck. “Move,” he growled, hunching down to make a less noticeable target. Setsumi did the same.

The pair stumbled out of the trees near the rocky banks of a fast moving river. White water roared in Genma’s ears as he scanned the soft spray of mist on the horizon. Setsumi followed his gaze to the waterfall, and her face paled. “No,” she growled. “Don’t even think about it.”

Three men burst from the trees a dozen or so paces away. Genma blew out a breath. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Absolutely not,” Setsumi hissed, voice rising an octave with panic. Her eyes had grown wider, looking almost comical.

Genma danced closer to the edge of the cliff as a rain of shuriken and kunai fell around them. He looked at the space behind him, and the inky green pool so far below. Kami, it was a long way down. He brought his eyes back to Setsumi and huffed. “Why the hell did you take a mission in the Land of Waves if you can’t fucking swim?”

“It’s not that I can’t—”

“I’m really sorry about this,” Genma interrupted before the woman could get the words out. It was only half a lie.

Setsumi’s mouth started to fall open as Genma lunged forward, He dropped his shoulder to aim at her sternum and wrapped his arm around her. The momentum pulled Setsumi from her feet, secured against Genma’s side. He reached the edge of the cliff in three steps, pulsed chakra into the sole of his foot for distance, and leaped. As empty air opened around them, Setsumi’s scream drowned out the roar from the waterfall.

Whumptober, Day 25 - KakaSaku (Sakura centric) continuation

Prompt:Hide and Seek (escape,flight, hiding)
Fandom:Naruto
Pairing/Characters:Sakura (KakaSaku is background)
Rating:M (some gore and death mentions)
Words:1022
Notes:This is a continuation from Day 24 at the request of @misschih . This is one of two scenes I started. The other was Kakashi in the hospital room after Tenzo left with his Anbu, but it wasn’t fulfilling this prompt so I put it aside until after Whumptober.

I’m drowning. The rational part of Sakura’s mind acknowledged and accepted the feeling. It felt like too much effort to raise her head from its position on her chest. Her tongue filled her cotton dry mouth, making it difficult to breathe. Sakura wheezed a breath into her lungs then hissed at the pain. Her entire right side ached like she’d been beaten within an inch of her life. She had at least two broken ribs, probably more.

Before Sakura could complete her cursory examination, something pinched her nose. When she opened her mouth to take another breath, sticky liquid flooded across her tongue. Before she could gag or spit it out, someone forced her jaw shut. The deep pain on her neck suggested that this wasn’t the first time she’d been forcibly drugged. Something nagged at the back of Sakura’s mind, but she couldn’t grasp it. Consciousness slid beyond her reach, and she went willingly.

Fire, agony, death. Something dragged Sakura from the comfortable numbness of unconsciousness. She tried to catch the pieces of memory before they fled to the dark edges of her mind, but they wouldn’t come. She blinked, trying to figure out where she was. Blurry vision made it impossible. When Sakura went to wipe her eyes, her right arm wouldn’t move. Panic gripped her chest, sobering her as she looked for the cause.

A slim metal restraint bound her right wrist to the wall. Her left remained free which seemed a terrible mistake of her captors. Sakura frowned, wondering why she’d allowed something so flimsy to stop her from escaping. She reached her hand forward and immediately doubled over in pain so intense her vision darkened. Dry heaves spent themselves until she managed to control her body the way she’d been taught. A distant part of Sakura’s mind noted that she didn’t vomit the sedative. It must have been hours since she’d ingested it.

Frown deepening. Sakura studied the wall and chain, but couldn’t find anything remarkable about either. She raised a trembling hand to her head, wincing at the tender, swollen spot on her temple. In the back of her mind, she felt a gnawing emptiness that threatened to overwhelm her, but she couldn’t think about that. Death lay down that path. Sakura could only deal with the things she could change. The weakness in her body was more than deprivation and torture, it was chakra exhaustion. But how—

Screams tore through Sakura’s mind, sharp and panicked. Even so, she could differentiate the voices. Nami was crying on the ground, great sobs that wracked her entire body. Genki lay beside her, an ugly gash bisecting his middle. Usagi was nowhere to be seen but her wordless roar of pain filled the room. The world exploded in a roar of heat and brilliant light that threw Sakura backward. Chakra flowed through her body when her seal released its stored power. She jerked to her feet and pushed through the flames. Sakura’s skin bubbled and sloughed away, renewing before it could kill her. She reached two of her genin, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at their faces. Sakura threw her body over them like a shield.

And then, nothing. Sakura didn’t know. She’d used up her stored chakra, but she’d still been taken captive. Her body hadn’t healed itself, so her current injuries must have come after the seal spent itself. The memory of her genin struck something deep and primal inside Sakura’s chest, but she couldn’t remember what happened to them. Her stomach locked tight as a second bout of nausea passed through her.

Another memory surfaced, and Sakura felt the air leave her lungs like she’d been punched. Her hand dropped to rest on her stomach as she rested her head against the stone behind her. “Oh fuck,” she hissed in the silence of her cell. Don’t think about it. There’s nothing you can do yet. “I can’t stay here.”

Sakura pulled against the chain a second time, putting as much pressure as she could against the metal without touching it. It didn’t give way, even when she fed a tendril of chakra into her arm to strengthen it. She continued, grunting with the pain that her efforts produced in her ribs. After a couple of minutes, Sakura released her chakra and sank back to the ground. A sob threatened to rise through her throat, but she pushed it away. She had to be stronger, who knew when her captors would be back.

Nodding sharply, Sakura infused her arm with chakra a second time and pulled until her muscles ached. Nothing happened. She studied the chain, then decided to focus on the anchor point in the stone behind her. If she could pull with enough force, she’d be able to jerk it free. Blowing out a breath, she counted down from three and jerked with enough force to pull a door from its hinges.

Pain exploded through Sakura’s arm, sharp and sudden enough to steal her vision. She collapsed. Every shift of her body sent pain stabbing through the bones that he’d broken. Her arm hung limp at an awkward angle, unmovable. Angry, frustrated tears worked through the grime on Sakura’s cheeks. She wiped her eyes with her free arm, then steadied her resolve.

Then, the solution came to Sakura as clear as if someone had whispered a plan in her ear. Her chakra reserves were dwindling, she couldn’t afford to waste them with healing until she got free. Fumbling with the knot of her hitai-ate, Sakura pulled it free. She tied it around her arm just below the elbow and searched around for something to use as a windlass to make it tighter. Sakura waited until the pain in her wrist numbed, then she formed a chakra scalpel with her other hand.

One, two— On three, Sakura’s world erupted in pain. She watched her hand fall away in slow motion, stomach threatening to sick up a second time. “No,” Sakura growled, pushing to her feet despite the dizziness that made her vision swim. “I can’t die here. I have too much to live for.”

Whumptober, Day 24 - Kakashi/Sakura

Prompt:One down, two to go (self-induced injures to escape, flashback,revenge)

Fandom:Naruto

Pairing:Kakashi/Sakura

Rating:T

Words:1358

Notes:Requested by @misschih I hope you enjoy it!

——-

“Hokage-sama.” Kakashi glanced up at the urgency in Shikamaru’s voice. The man shut the door behind him and approached the desk. “You’re needed at the hospital.”

Fear slid into Kakashi’s chest, a building panic that pressed against his ribs. Exhaling, he laid aside the report that he’d been reading. “Who is it?”

Shikamaru didn’t answer immediately, holding the information back as if he could give Kakashi an extra moment of normalcy. Kakashi stood and removed the Hokage robe and hat while waiting. He wouldn’t be summoned to the hospital for anything short of a threat to the village or a close personal relationship. His breath caught. When he turned to face Shikamaru, the man nodded. “It’s Sakura.”

Kakashi knew, some part of him knew, that it would be Sakura from the moment Shikamaru entered his office. He resisted the urge to shunshin directly to the hospital. He needed to know what he was walking into. At Kakashi’s silence, Shikamaru continued. “She’s badly hurt, but Tsunade is with her. The rest of her team was killed in action.”

Killed in action. Over the course of his career, Kakashi had heard those words more times than he cared to remember. But, this time felt different. He knew Sakura’s team, watched them flourish under her care. Usagi hoped to become a medic like her sensei. She’d already entered the advanced program that Sakura started not long after the war. Nami had grown more confident and less soft spoken, standing up for her friends and teammates. And, Genki had learned to harness his energy toward teamwork and self-improvement rather than cutting remarks. Kami-sama, they were only kids.

Kakashi ran his tongue across his lips. “It was a C-rank mission,” he mumbled. This couldn’t be happening. “Sakura could complete those in her sleep, alone.”

“We may not have much time, Hokage-sama.” Shikamaru’s use of Kakashi’s title made the panic rise higher. He pushed open the door. “Please.”

The walk to the hospital seemed to drag on for an eternity, but Kakashi couldn’t remember moving. The same white halls and antiseptic smells that he’d grown used to while dating Sakura now seemed foreign and uninviting. Shikamaru knew where he was going, moving through the maze with practiced ease. He stopped beside one door wand knocked. Tsunade opened it, then her eyes slid past Shikamaru. She dipped her chin. “Kakashi.”

Machines beeped a steady rhythm beside the bed, but Kakashi only saw Sakura. She lay on her back, sheet and blankets tucked around her like she’d fallen asleep. His eyes slid over her face, then returned to her forehead. “Her seal,” he asked, turning to Tsunade. “Where is it?”

“She released the bound chakra.” Tsunade’s lips pinched into a thin line as she looked at her former student. “Her body hasn’t been able to restore her reserves.”

“If she used the seal, why is she dying?” Kakashi’s void didn’t shake as he fought to make sense of what happened. He moved closer to the bed. “It healed your entire body during the war. Sakura fought a literal god with it.”

Tsunade placed a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder, and he couldn’t bring himself to shrug away from it. “I don’t know,” the woman admitted. “I suspect she used it to try and save her genin rather than on herself.”

That made sense. Sakura would never allow her students in harm’s way unless there was no other option. She would have done everything she could to protect them. Kakashi’s eyes slid over her body, looking for the injuries. Tsunade had healed most of them, even the bloody reminders were missing except for the armor heaped beside the bed. “What’s wrong—”

Kakashi’s words caught in his throat as he looked at Sakura’s hand. Or rather, the space where her hand should have been. The world tipped sideways and he caught the bed rail to keep from collapsing. Sakura’s arm ended in a stump halfway between her elbow and where her wrist would have been. The rest was swathed in a cast.

Tsunade pushed Kakashi into a chair that she’d moved behind him. “Her arm was, is badly damaged. There are multiple breaks in the bone. I’ve set them for now, and done what I could to encourage healing.”

Kakashi felt like he was watching the scene from outside his body. “And, her hand?”

“Sakura did that herself.” Tsunade answered, voice soft. At Kakashi’s stare, the woman sighed. “The edges were perfectly uniform, done either with a scalpel or chakra, and the end was cauterized to stop bleeding. I recognize her work.”

Blinking, Kakashi looked between Sakura and Tsunade in confusion. “Are you saying that she cut off her hand? Why?”

“Probably to escape. I imagine she tried to break free with her strength, shattering the bones in her arm and shoulder. When that didn’t work, she cut her way out of captivity.” Something like awe slid into Tsunade’s voice, but Kakashi didn’t feel it. He wasn’t sure he felt anything . Tsunade took the expression as a question and continued. “The infection from the wound entered her bloodstream. I can’t heal that with chakra.”

There were no words left, no questions that Kakashi wanted to ask, so he nodded. He let himself stay in the pain for several trembling breaths, then he compressed the emotion to a tight ball in the back of his mind and stood. “I’ll need the records and information for her student’s families.”

“I can do it,” Shikamaru interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t have to be the one to tell them.”

“Yes, I do. Our failure to categorize missions correctly got an entire team slaughtered. I want to know what went wrong. I want the mission summary on my desk in—” Kakashi barely got the words out before Shikamaru produced a scroll from his vest. Kakashi skimmed over the words, trying to understand how everything could have gone wrong.

Blowing out another breath, Kakashi nodded. “Fine, I want an Anbu team assembled.” He glanced at the clock above the doorway. “We leave in an hour.”

“You can’t—”

“You’re in no condition–”

Shikamaru and Tsunade spoke over one another, but the third voice stopped Kakashi in his tracks. A familiar face appeared in the shadows, eyes gentle but firm. Tenzo shook his head and repeated the single word. “No.”

Rage boiled through Kakashi’s veins, hot and sudden, preferable to the helplessness he felt sitting beside Sakura. “I’m giving you all a direct order. I want my team ready to move when I give the command.”

“I’ll get them,” Tenzo offered, sparing a single glance for the woman in the bed. Kakashi couldn’t get a read on his expression behind the mask. “Two four man teams versed in extraction and reconnaissance to make sure we get answers. But, you won’t lead them anywhere.”

Tsunade nodded. “You’ll want to be here if she wakes.”

If.The word put pressure on a broken place inside of Kakashi, shattering it. Shards burst through his lungs, making it impossible to breathe. “I can’t,” he gasped out. “I can’t sit here and watch her die.”

“And you can’t lead a mission,” Tenzo answered, voice sharp. “I will not risk more lives to satisfy your revenge.”

“I’ll support their decision with the elders.” Shikamaru looked between Tsunade and Tenzo, reading the situation in a heartbeat. “If you go, it’ll be considered a desertion of duty.”

Kakashi laughed, bitter and sharp. “Do you think I care? Hang the title and everything that it means. What good is it when I can’t save the people I care about?”

Angry tears stung the back of Kakashi’s eyes, and he turned away. Tenzo made a motion with one hand and Tsunade and Shikamaru filed out of the room. Kakashi’s long time friend moved to his side and stared down at Sakura with palpable sadness. He squeezed Kakashi’s shoulder. “We’ll get them.”

“I want them to pay,” Kakashi ground out, his voice hoarse from holding back the sob that rose in his throat. “Kill them all.”

Tenzo hummed without agreement and shunshinned from the room, leaving Kakashi alone with the soft beep of Sakura’s heart rate monitor.

Whumptober, Day 23 - Itachi/Sakura

Prompt: You break it, you bought it (auction, ransom, pursuit)
Fandom:Naruto
Pairing:Itachi/Sakura
Rating:T
Words:1494
Notes:I blame this entire drabble on @kendochick-moor and their Take My Picture story. I’ve been wholly absorbed by it over the past two days, and the longing that Itachi shows in there is so beautiful that I just wanted to help him. Then I realized this was supposed to be angst and I wasn’t going to make it any better. I’m sorry? Also, the setting is largely a stretch to reach the prompt again but I wanted to write this lol

———-

The smell of expensive perfume and overpriced wine flavor the air when Itachi steps into the room. Dozens of Konoha’s finest fill the space, offering fake laughs and false smiles. He blows a breath through his lips. I can do this, I don’t have a choice, he whispers, snagging a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. He doesn’t plan to drink it, but it gives him a clever excuse to avoid conversations that he doesn’t want to have. Family members dot the space, milling about before the art auction is set to begin.

Uncle Madara is speaking to someone that Itachi doesn’t recognize, but he’s pretty sure it’s a buyer from Kumo. Events like this are exclusive, but he wasn’t the one to vet the patrons. He adjusts the tuxedo that he’d been forced to wear. Mikoto had been adamant that Itachi at least put in an appearance. Though his mother doesn’t say it, she’s worried that he’ll be alone forever unless she orchestrates the perfect match. Being the eldest son carries responsibilities that Itachi never wanted.

“Are you here for pleasure, or duty,” a familiar voice asks by Itachi’s shoulder. He turns, unsurprised, to find Uncle Izuna running an appraising eye over him.

Itachi shrugs. “I’m here because mother said I had to be.,” he answers as honestly as he dares.

Izuna laughs, a deep, rich sound that pulls a flush onto Itachi’s cheeks. He’s not sure if he’s being made fun of or not, with Izuna it’s hard to tell. The man claps him on the back and nods. “Mikoto rarely takes no for an answer, does she?” When Itachi shakes his head, Izuno looks thoughtful. “I think you might be the only person to defy her and get away with it.”

The words carry a weight that Itachi is familiar with, but it stings all the same. Nearly all of the Uchiha have followed Uncle Madara into one branch or another of the judicial system. You can’t throw a stone in the room without hitting half a dozen lawyers, judges, and policy makers. It had been expected that Itachi would follow in his family’s footsteps. But, he’d wanted something different..

The badge on Itachi’s side feels like a brand, burning his hip. He hasn’t made detective yet, mostly because he refuses to use his family name for influence. It’s just one of the ways that he’s failed them. He’s twenty-nine and unmarried, with no kids to carry on the family name and no prospects. It isn’t Itachi’s fault that work keeps him too busy to breathe most days or that his standards are impossibly high. His mother has tried to set him up dozens of times, but it always falls through for one reason or another.

“I’m just here to put in an appearance,” Itachi hedges, lifting his drink to his lips. The champagne is too sweet for his tastes, but it gives him something to do with his hands.

Before Izuna can respond, he’s swept up in a conversation with a couple that Itachi doesn’t recognize. He uses the distraction to get away from the probing questions that he doesn’t want to deal with. If he can find his mother and satisfy the requirement of coming, he can leave. He needs to go through the notes on the robbery case down on—

Someone bumps Itachi’s side, startling him from his thoughts. “Excuse me, I was—”

The words die in Itachi’s suddenly dry throat. He finds himself staring into the most vivid emerald eyes he’s ever seen. They’re no less striking for their familiarity, though he hadn’t expected to see her here. “Haruno-sensei,” he breathes, chest tight. He gives himself a mental shake. “I’m terribly sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Sakura’s laugh is light and airy as she waves away the apology. “No harm done,” she smiles and toys with one of her earrings. “I didn’t expect to find a familiar face here. These things are kind-of overwhelmingly snobbish aren’t they?”

Chuckling, Itachi nods. He’d never say those words in his family’s hearing, but the stuffy atmosphere at these events is exhausting. Itachi wears a mask when he comes here, pretending to be something he’s not. Sakura is a breath of fresh air in the midst of that. “Can I get you a drink,” he offers.

“I shouldn’t, I’m on call,” Sakura responds, tucking a pink curl behind one ear.

Itachi is transfixed by the movement of Sakura’s fingers, momentarily forgetting to listen to the words. He gives himself a mental shake then nods. “Of course. How have you been?”

Six months ago, Itachi had been called to the hospital to take statements after a mugging. Sakura had been the doctor on call that night. She’d had evidence and assumptions ready, and she was angry at the increase in violence she’d seen lately. Their first meeting had been a coincidence, the second and third were orchestrated. Or rather, Itachi looked for any excuse to stop by the hospital in uniform to catch a glimpse of the pink-haired medic when cases call for it.

Running his tongue across his lips, Itachi nods as Sakura tells him that the hospital has been busy. She hasn’t had much down time; in fact, this is the fist time that Sakura’s been out in weeks. In weeks, the words repeat like a gong in the back of his mind. Two weeks ago, there was a moment when Itachi thought that she was on the verge of saying something. He’d felt the tension between them, the tipping point underfoot, but he’d been too afraid to move and she’d been called away. He feels the same stress now.

Sakura is close enough that Itachi can smell the floral perfume she wore. The general buzz of the room makes it difficult to hear, but he has no trouble picking up her words. Something warm and unfamiliar swells in Itachi’s chest. He exhales. “Would you—”

“Itachi!” His confidence shatters at the call, crumbling to his feet like dust.

Itachi turns to find his younger brother cutting through the crowd. Sasuke wears his tuxedo better than Itachi, filling it out with wider shoulders and the confidence that always came so easy to him. He stops, glancing between Sakura and Itachi with a smile. “I see you’ve met Sakura.”

When Sasuke’s hand comes to rest low on Sakura’s back, Itachi’s heart stops. He feels like he’s been sucker punched, the air leaves his lungs with the same urgency. Sasuke brushes his lips against the same curve of cheek that Itachi had dreamed of touching. He swallows the pain and longing at once, pasting a smile on his face. If his family taught him anything, it’s the ability to fake happiness.

Sakura’s lips pull into a frown, and her eyes are far too knowing. Itachi takes a long gulp of his champagne to keep the emotion from being obvious. He’s had a lot of practice at that, too. The question hangs in the air when he’s finished, so Itachi tips his head. “I’ve met her, yes. She helped with a case a few weeks ago.”

Sasuke tips his head to the side, studying Sakura. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t know,” Sakura breathes, voice small enough to get lost in the noise. Itachi manages to hear it over the roaring in his ears. “I didn’t know he was your brother.”

Sasuke says something else, but Itachi doesn’t catch it. He can’t escape the feeling that the ground just opened under him. Sakura’s eyes hold something like pity, and Itachi can’t bear that. He shakes his head. “It was so nice to meet you,” he offers, bowing to the pair. Manners are automatic, even with the pain blooming inside of him. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to get back to work.”

“You just got here,” Sasuke argues, but Itachi shakes his head. He should stay long enough to see which woman his mother has planned to match him with, but he can’t bring himself to face it. The sudden realization that he’s been nursing feelings for months leaves him breathless, especially to have them snatched away.

Itachi nods and turns away. He places his half full glass on the tray of a passing waiter and starts for the door. He almost makes it when an arm catches his. For half a heartbeat, he hopes to turn and find Sakura. But, it isn’t her.

Mikoto smiles and fuses over Itachi’s jacket, toying with the lapel. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you. There’s a girl here I want you to meet. Her family owns—”

The words are familiar, and Itachi lets them wash over him without speaking. He glances across the room only once and catches a flash of pink hair in the sea of black. Then, he closes the door on that forever and follows his mother back into the room. He has a duty to do.

Whumptober, Day 21 - Saiyo / Kazuko

Prompt:That’s where the blood is supposed to be (bleeding through bandages, pressure,blood matted hair)
Fandom:Naruto
Pairing:Saiyo / Kazuko (Healing Hands OC)
Rating:T (language)
Words:1229
Notes:For@cinlat who gave me this pairing and now I’m obsessed with them

———

It was either too early or too late for this shit, Kazuko couldn’t decide which. He rubbed his eyes to remove the sleep grit, but they wouldn’t focus. Belatedly, he remembered that he wore glasses and blindly fished for them on the nightstand. He felt hungover without the pleasure of drinking first. He hadn’t gotten enough sleep to be woken up by the urgent sound of his pager dancing on the nightstand.

The code didn’t tell Kazuko much beyond the fact that he was needed at the hospital. It wasn’t an emergency in the sense that everyone was being called in, though. Someone had requested him specifically and was making enough of a scene to get their way. Kazuko threw on some dress clothes since it was close enough to the start of his shift that there would be no point to come home after.

Fifteen minutes after he’d gotten the call, Kazuko made it to the hospital. The lights were lower at this time of night, but the same buzz of energy remained. He walked toward the nurse’s station to check in, but didn’t need to ask where he was needed. Growled threats echoed down the hallway, drawing Kazuko toward them. When he rounded the doorway, he found the attending doctor and two nurses arguing with a young woman.

“What’s going on in here,” Kazuko asked, keeping his voice calm in the chaos of angry voices.

An all too familiar face snapped up at the sound, and Saiyo grinned. “See? How hard was that?”

“Do you know this woman,” The on-call doctor asked, furrowing his brow as his gaze shifted between Saiyo and Kazuko with obvious confusion. At Kazuko’s sharp nod, he frowned. “Did you also know she’s a shinobi?”

“I was aware, yes.” Kazuko answered, eyeing Saiyo over the man’s shoulder.

Okabe-sensei proffered the medical file that he’d been reading. Kazuko took it and skimmed over the mostly empty page. The man tsked under his breath. “You understand that standard procedure is to refer them to the Anbu medic. We were going to page—”

“And, I told them no,” Saiyo growled, swatting at the nurse who was attempting to clean the blood off her face. “I don’t want to see her.”

“You don’t get to just pick and choose your medical care,” the remaining nurse snipped, still struggling to get a read on Saiyo’s vitals.

For a moment, Kazuko thought that Saiyo was going to stick her tongue out at the woman. He sighed. “No harm done.” The nurse made a disapproving sound under her breath, but Kazuko ignored it. “I can take things from here.”

Saiyo flashed a triumphant grin at the medical team surrounding her as Kazuko tossed his bag onto a chair and dug out his stethoscope. For a minute, he thought that Okabe would argue with him. It was still night shift, the man could tell Kazuko to leave if he wanted. With a final shake of his head, the man tucked a pen into the chest pocket of his lab coat. “Fine, she’s your problem now.”

Kazuko nodded and waited until the rest of the staff filled out to turn his gaze on Saiyo. Now that it was clear that Sakura wasn’t going to be called, the girl laid back on the bed with a sigh. Kazuko crossed the room to wash his hands, glancing over one shoulder. “He’s right, you know?”

“Blah, blah,” Saiyo mimicked, folding an arm over her eyes. “Can you get over here and give me something? My head is fucking killing me.”

Kazuko dried his hands and took in the state of the girl on the bed. Saiyo’s face was drawn and pale, blood streaking down the left side. Her hands rested on her stomach. Frowning, Kazuko lifted her shirt. The wound that he’d bandaged less then three days ago had a streak of crimson running across the gauze. He frowned. “You reopened your wound.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Saiyo closed her eyes, then pulled away when Kazuko’s fingers walked across her scalp. “Ouch, that hurt.”

“Lacerations tend to do that, especially somewhere sensitive like the scalp.” There were several shallow gasses hidden in the green tresses, but the blood had dried and reopened multiple times, making it difficult to tell where the wounds were. “We’re going to have to shave this.”

Saiyo peeked open one eye. “Do it and I’ll kill you.”

“If you’d stop picking bar fights for no good reason, I wouldn’t have to.” Kazuko chided and lifted a cloth to clean the worst of the blood away from the skin. He shook his head as he worked. “Whoever he is, he’s not worth it.”

Laughter slid through Saiyo’s lips, but she didn’t meet Kazuko’s gaze “You don’t know that. Some people are worth the hurt they cause.”

“Well, I may not know him, but he’s not worth getting yourself killed over.” Kazuko pulled the sodden bandage away from Saiyo’s midsection and frowned at the torn stitches. “And, that’s where this is going to lead.”

Saiyo offered a lazy smile, face relaxing as the numbing agent that Kazuko had injected took effect. “There are people worth dying for out there.”

Kazuko laid the hypodermic aside and studied the woman’s expression, wondering what the statement said about her mental state. He had no way of knowing if the words came from a twisted sense of humor or someplace darker. Kazuko dipped his head. “Sometimes you’re better off finding the person to live for.”

Silence answered the statement. When Kazuko looked up to check Saiyo’s vitals, he found the woman’s golden eyes studying him. Her lip curved into a smirk. “Is that your way of asking me out? Because, if so, it needs some work.”

Warmth rushed into Kazuko’s cheeks, half embarrassment and half discomfort. “No, that wasn’t what I meant.”

Saiyo chuckled as Kazuko finished tidying her stitches for the second time. As he started to rebandage the area, cool fingers brushed against the back of his hand. Kazuko jumped and dropped the gauze. Saiyo laughed. “So, what you’re saying is that I have to be the one doing the asking out?”

Kazuko frowned, trying to determine if the woman was making fun of him or not. Her lopsided smile suggested otherwise, but the words left him reeling. It hadn’t been that long since his last relationship failed, and that wasn’t counting the disaster with Sakura. He didn’t need more complications in his life.

“Come on, doc,” Saiyo prodded. “I can see the way you look at me.”

A hand caught Kazuko’s tie and dragged him forward. Before he could think of a convincing argument, Saiyo’s lips were on his. Colors flashed in his vision, and the stale taste of old tequila coated on his tongue. Kazuko’s lower lip ached from the tug of her teeth when he pulled back. Saiyo grinned. “Tell me you didn’t enjoy that.”

Kazuko shook his head and tightened his hand into a fist to stop the tremble that rushed through it. “I think that was unprofessional. This is my place of work, not some bar to hook up in.”

Saiyo cocked her head to the side, her grin morphing into a smirk. “That wasn’t a no, though.”

Laughter rumbled through Kazuko’s chest as he snipped off the end of Saiyo’s stitches. He inclined his head. “It wasn’t a no.”

Whumptober, Day 20 - Genma and Setsumi

Prompt:Lost and fount (trunk, trapped underwater, solitary confinement)
Fandom:Naruto (Story: Heart in a Silver Cage
Characters:Genma and Setsumi (OC)
Rating:T
Words:858
Notes:Requested by @cinlat

————

Panic filled Setsumi’s chest, squeezing off the air that her lungs so desperately needed. The cavern was darker than she’d expected it to be, and the water distorted light and made it difficult to judge distances. Genma moved through the murk with a comfort and ease that made Setsumi jealous. When he’d said that he could complete this easier if he didn’t have to look after her, Setsumi had rolled her eyes and said she’d be fine. Now, she wished she’d listened.

The cave grew darker, swallowing everything but the pinprick of light from Setsumi’s headlamp. That was another thing that she’d argued with Genma about, only to find out that he was right. Setsumi had thought the warm sunlight that danced on the blue water would penetrate almost the entire way through the cave. She and Genma had covered maybe a third of the distance to their destination, if that, and it was black as pitch. This was a stupid mission from the beginning, Setsumi groused internally. If I die here, I’m going to haunt Hokage-sama for the rest of his miserable life.

Setsumi drew another shallow breath through the mechanism that Genma had taught her to use five minutes before they walked into the cave. She tried not to think about how it was the only thing keeping her alive or the fact that she was surrounded. If she had second thoughts about swimming into an underwater grotto and wanted to leave, there was no way out except to continue. The thought made her skin crawl. Part of being a good shinobi was knowing where the escape routes were at all times. But here, she’d be trapped.

A flash of silver swirled the water in front of Setsumi, then something brushed her cheek. Jerking away, her head connected with the stone above. Setsumi cried out; warm, salty water flooded into her mouth. She twisted, grabbing for the respirator, but she couldn’t find it. Her light didn’t penetrate the grit and haze that she’d kicked up in her struggle. Genma had warned Setsumi about that, too. She couldn’t see him. He’d taken the lead and was a decent way ahead of her. It could be minutes before he realized that she wasn’t following any longer.

Stars sparkled in Setsumi’s vision. The burn in her lungs tripled while her mind tried to remember how long it could survive without air. A vice closed on Setsumi’s wrist, and she struck out blindly. Her fingers raked through something too soft to be stone, and the touch fell away. It returned a second time, dragging her to the ground by her shoulders. Setsumi kicked and fought, fingers finding purchase a second time. One arm slipped out of her assailant’s grip.

Darkness threatened more urgently, gnawing at Setsumi’s consciousness. Something closed over her mouth, warm and pliable. Breath filled her lungs, and she swallowed the air and water as one, choking on it. The seal around her lips didn’t move so she exhaled through her nose. The dizziness receded. A second, fuller breath filled Setumi’s mouth and she drank it greedily.

The hand on Setsumi’s shoulder moved, she recognized the feeling now. Then, the mouth over hers disappeared. Before she could think to protest something was forced against her lips. They opened reflexively and she drew a complete breath. Her vision cleared enough to notice the painfully bright light inches from her face, then Genma’s mask even closer. He waved a hand to get her attention, then pointed to his mouth. Setsumi tried to figure out why it looked strange, then realized it was visible.

Genma held up his respirator, then closed his mouth around it. His hand tapped the one in Setsumi’s lips and flashed a thumbs up. Setsumi pulled another breath into her panic filled lungs, then repeated the sign. With a nod, Genma hooked something from his belt to hers and started moving away. The tug of his presence was more reassuring than she cared to admit.

Ten minutes later, the water grew shallow and Genma pulled himself onto a rough ledge. He offered a hand to Setsumi, and she collapsed next to him, resisting the urge to kiss the salty stone. Genma packed away their gear, then looked up. “You good?”

Setsumi’s mouth dropped open. Four long, angry gashes down Genma’s left cheek. “What happened to you?”

“A crazy woman tried to drown me because she panicked.” Genma flashed the type of smile that made most women weak in the knees. It morphed into a smirk. “You left some on my shoulders, too.”

The suggestive lilt in Genmas tone made Setsumi roll her eyes. Then, she remembered the breath that he’d shared and the risks he’d taken to save her. Genma joked about it now, but she could have killed them both. “I’m sorry,” Setsumi began, hating the meekness in her voice. “You were right— ”

“About time you admitted that,” Genma interrupted. He waved off Setsumi’s huff of annoyance, and nodded behind him. “But, we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s get going, we have a deadline to meet.”

Grumbling under her breath, Setsumi followed Genma deeper into the cave.

Whumptober, Day 19 - Kakashi, Tenzo, Genma

Prompt:Just a scratch (bitten, bleeding, stabbing)
Fandom:Naruto
Characters:Kakashi, Tenzo, and Genma
Rating:M (maybe T)
Words:1135
Notes:Character death, angst

————————–

The world stuttered to a halt in a rain of crimson droplets. Tenzo spun in a full circle as a wind jutsu ripped through armor and flesh. He hit the ground hard while their target and guards fled higher into the hideout. In Genma’s peripheral vision, Yugao crouched in a corner with a dazed expression on her face, tanto dripping on the ground. Reality lost connection to time as Genma watched the scene before him play out in slow motion.

“Damn it,” Kakashi growled, panic edging his voice as he reached Tenzo’s side. The man dropped to his knees on the rough stone. “What were you thinking?”

Even when Kakashi shook him, Tenzo didn’t answer. A pool of crimson spread beneath his body, soaking into the knee of Kakashi’s pants. The jonin pressed against the gaping wound in Tenzo’s chest, seeking to staunch the blood flow. There was no point; it had already slowed. Brown eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling as Kakashi pushed his fingers against the man’s pulse point. “Come on,” he urged, voice starting to shake.

Genma didn’t move for several long moments, providing Kakashi the space he needed. Yugao slid her blade back into its sheath and glanced at Genma for confirmation. He offered a tight nod, then took a step forward. Genma rested three fingertips on Kakashi’s bare shoulder. He ignored the shudder that passed under his hand and pretended not to hear the almost sob in the back of Kakashi’s throat. “Now isn’t the time,” Genma reminded his captain.

When nothing happened for several seconds. Genma made his voice gentle, but firm. “Get up Hatake, we have a mission complete.”

The snarl that left Kakashi’s throat made Genma take an instinctual step backward. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet in case the man decided to swing for him. Grief made people do strange things, but he’d never thought that Kakashi would abandon his duty so easily. Kakashi lowered Tenzo’s body back to the ground. The man’s ashen face spoke of their failures, but Genma couldn’t focus on that now. He watched Kakashi’s fingers leave a bloody streak over Tenzo’s cheek before closing his eyes forever. Kakashi bowed his head then placed the porcelain cat mask over Tenzo’s face.

Standing, Kakashi pulled his Anbu mask back into place. He didn’t look at Genma or Yugao as he drew a kunai from the pouch on his hip. Genma’s throat constricted at the pain that rolled over him. His grief felt like a candle beside the inferno of Kakashi’s. Over the past year, Genma had teased Tenzo about having a crush on Kakashi, but he hadn’t been sure that the feelings were returned. Genma knew better now. He also knew that emotions like that were only good for one thing: getting more people killed.

Kakashi moved toward the step without bothering to look at his teammates. Genma lunged forward and grabbed Kakashi’s arm. “You can’t just charge in there and—”

“Will you stop me?” Kakashi’s voice made the air’s damp chill feel like a summer breeze. His right eye blended into the shadows of his mask, but the crimson sharingan spun wildly in the left. Lightning flickered along his fingers, glowing in the space between them. “Can you stop me?”

Genma released Kakashi’s arm and took a step back. Yugao stalked closer on silent feet, stopping at Genma’s side. At least she had enough sense to let Kakashi go. “What do we do? He’s not thinking—”

Wood splintered overhead, followed by a quickly aborted scream. Wind whistled across the stones, shattering glass before being drowned out by the chitter of birds. A feral growl swallowed a second, louder scream. Genma nodded back toward the room where Tenzo lay. “Stay with him. I’ll get Kakashi.”

There wasn’t time to make sure that Yugao followed orders. The begging had started above. “Please, I didn’t know—”

Genma pounded up the stairs behind Kakashi and stepped into carnage. The door had been blown inward off its hinges; scraps of wood littering the floor like kindling. Both guards were on the ground, chests blown open by chidori and their faces locked in a grimace. Eerie blue light flooded the space. Kakashi towered over their target. Lightning paled the man’s face more than fear as he raised both hands in surrender, weaponless and trembling. Kakashi held death steady in one palm.

“Where are your orders?” Kakashi bit off each word, sharp as razor wire.

The man reached inside his vest and offered a thin, leather book. Kakashi jerked the volume from his grasp and tossed it toward Genma. “It’s there,” the man said,as he stumbled toward his feet. “Everything you need is in there. I surrender, I’ll go willingly—”

Kakashi spun, burying his chidori in the man’s chest. Blood sprayed against the wall behind him, dripping in meaningless patterns. The man’s body slumped to the ground, dragging Kakashi with it, and the light went out. Near darkness bathed the room, and it took Genma’s eyes a minute to adjust. Kakashi slumped over the dead man, chest heaving with a noise that sounded too much like a sob for Genma’s comfort.

Metal clattered as the kunai fell from Kakashi’s grasp, followed by the dull impact of fist on flesh. Kakashi slammed his hands against their dead target’s chest again and again. His breath sped toward panic with every punch, curses and half-sobs breaking the wheeze of pain. Genma reached out.

Kakashi spun, fist sailing through the space that Genma’s head had occupied moments before. The second punch caught Genma in the ribs and his armor softened the blow. He caught Kakashi’s wrist and spun, trapping it between them. “Stop,” Genma hissed, struggling to contain the fury as an elbow slammed into his ribs. He tightened his hold. “Dammit, Kakashi, stop. it’s over.”

The words had an instant effect. The fight bled out of Kakashi’s body, and he shoved Genma away. “You think I don’t know that? He’s gone, and none of this matters. None of it will bring him back.”

For a moment, Genma recalled a younger Kakashi, standing in the cemetery with tears streaming down his cheeks. He’d lost the final pieces of his family when Minato and Kushina died. Genma saw the same bone-deep despair in the man’s eyes now. Kakashi shook his head. “I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save any of them.”

“I know,” Genma answered, wishing he could offer something besides acknowledgement. Grey and red eyes rose with a question that Genma ignored. He caught Kakashi by the shoulders in a rough hug, felt the sob that ripped through his friend’s chest, and stayed there until it steadied. When they moved apart, he squeezed Kakashi’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s take him home. We can do that much for him.”

Whumptober, Day 17 - Saiyo and Kazuko

Prompt:Field Care 101 (“please don’t move”, hemorrhage, dread)
Fandom:Naruto (Healing Hands)
Characters:Saiyo / Kazuko (both OC)
Rating:T (language and maybe gore a little?)
Words:1851 (lol oops)
Notes:This story is part of Healing Hands backdrop stories, if you’re following that, it occurs around the next two chapters but won’t be featured in the main story. For @cinlat who trusted me to write these two meeting for the first time

————————————–

It’s been a week, Saiyo reasoned as she walked through the darkened village. I’m not desperate to go back, I’m considerate. Tenzo wasn’t in a good place the last time I saw him. I just want to make sure that he’s doing okay now. There’s nothing more to it than that.

Saiyo ignored the fact that she’d spent most of her last night with Tenzo passed out in his bed, too drunk to stand up. She’d nurtured the hope that he’d join her at some point. He hadn’t. Saiyo couldn’t tell if Tenzo wasn’t interested in her sexually, or if he was worried about blurring the lines between professional and personal. Sometimes, she thought he let her get close to him because they had a connection. Other times, she thought it was all an act

Unbidden, the memory of Tenzo’s dead weight on her shoulder rose in Saiyo’s mind. She felt the slippery warmth of his blood running between her fingers, heard the wheeze of his final breath.

“No,” Saiyo growled, earning a startled look from a woman on her left. She leveled the stranger with a cold stare until they scurried down a side street. Saiyo blew out a breath. Tenzo hadn’t died; she’d gotten him back in time. He was perfectly fine, just busy. If anything had happened to him, someone would have told the Anbu.

When Saiyo paused outside Tenzo’s apartment, the curtains were drawn. She toyed with her hair, tucking it behind one ear before allowing it to fall over her right eye. Then, she shook her head. Her appearance didn’t matter. Tenzo didn’t care how Saiyo looked either because he wasn’t interested, or because he liked her regardless of how she looked. Drawing a deep breath, Saiyo knocked on the door.

After nearly a minute, Saiyo heard the latches click free on the opposite side. The door opened a sliver. “Why are you hiding—” Saiyo paused, surprised to see green eyes staring back at her. Anger swelled in her stomach. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Sakura huffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I needed to talk to Yamato,” Saiyo growled, almost forgetting to use the man’s codename in her anger. Surely Sakura didn’t know him well enough to use the other. Saiyo tossed her hair from her face with a flip of her head. “It’s none of your business.”

Sakura ran a hand through her hair, then opened the door a fraction wider. “Is it urgent? He’s not really up for visitors at the moment.”

Rage blotted Saiyo’s logic, sparking angry red streaks at the edge of her vision. She squared her hips and shifted the weight onto the balls of her feet in anticipation for a fight. “I’ll let Yamato decide that. Besides, who do you think you are? A lonely little medic looking for some Anbu excitement because you can’t go on missions anymore?”

Sakura’s lips twitched at the insult, but she didn’t rise to the bait. If anything, she grew more calm in the face of Saiyo’s storm. “I’m not ‘some little medic’. I’m head medical consult for all of Anbu—”

“Is he hurt,” Saiyo interrupted, placing one palm against the door to push it open. “If he isn’t injured, Yamato isn’t any of your damn business. Or did you come to take him off duty too? Another fuckting manipulation to get your way.”

Anger poured out of Saiyo, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Sakura might be the medic assigned to Anbu, but that didn’t give her a right to interfere with their lives. She needed to know her place. “Isn’t it bad enough that you put us through all that shit at the hospital? Nobody wants to talk about their feelings. Realshinobi don’t bother with that shit.”

“Oh, you’re clearly mission ready.” Sakura rolled her eyes, then drew a breath to collect herself. “You should go home. Yamato doesn’t need this kind of chaos in his life right now.”

“You don’t get to decide that.” The snarl that rose in Saiyo’s throat would have made even hardened enemies step backward. Sakura didn’t move, even when she shoved the door open to slip into the apartment. Tenzo wasn’t on the couch or the kitchen, so she moved past Sakura’s outstretched arm and deeper into the apartment.

Despite Sakura’s babbled warnings, Saiyo opened the bedroom door. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness inside. Once they did, she blinked and tried to clear the image away. Tenzo lay on the bed, curled on his right side as violent chills shook his body. The smell of old vomit and sweat clung to the room. Droplets stood out on Tenzo’s forehead and darkened the underarms of his t-shirt. He didn’t look toward the door.

“What’s wrong with him,” Saiyo hissed, spinning to face the woman behind her. “What did you do? He needs—”

“A medic?” The smugness in Sakura’s voice was infuriating. “Don’t worry, I have him well in hand.”

Saiyo opened her mouth to argue, but Tenzo cut it short by crying out in pain. She tried not to feel betrayed when Sakura’s name tangled in his throat instead of hers. The pinkette moved toward the bedside while Saiyo backed from the room, bile burning the back of her throat.

—-

The neon lights seemed brighter for the soft buzz of alcohol in Kazuko’s system. He’d drunk just enough to take the edge off another bad day at work. Sakura hadn’t been to work in almost a week, and even if Kazuko wanted to know why, he wasn’t sure who to ask. The patient load wasn’t that difficult without her, but the paperwork had started piling up on his desk. He needed to dedicate one evening this week to catching up on the stack. But, not tonight.

Kazuko filled his lungs with the cool evening air, then exhaled to clear it away. A bite of autumn felt refreshing after the summer’s heat. He’d probably need a jacket soon. Nearby, something clattered to the ground, then a loud hiss split the quiet. Kazuko frowned. There weren’t a lot of strays in Konoha, but it wasn’t unheard of either. He paused by the mouth of the alley and peered into the gloom to make sure everything was okay.

A puddle of blood glistened in the moonlight, pulling Kazuko deeper into the shadow. “Hello,” he called. “Anyone there?”

Someone or something had left a streak of blood along one wall, long lines suggesting that someone had dragged a bloody hand across the stone. He frowned and increased his pace. “If you’re hurt, just stay where you are. I’m a doctor. I can help.”

“Fuckin’ doctors already helped enough,” slurred a voice from beside a trashcan. “Fuck off.”

Frowning, Kazuko sat his bag on the ground and held up his empty hands. “Let me see that you’re alright, and I’ll be on my way.”

The mumbled response was unintelligible. Kazuko took in the scene before him, years of medical training leaping into practice without thought. A puddle of blood spread beneath the girl’s body, pulsing from multiple wounds. Golden eyes were opening and shutting rapidly as she fought to hang on to consciousness. One trembling hand held a needle next to a gaping slash over her stomach. She’d put three crooked stitches in the skin, but it wasn’t enough to hold it closed.

“What’s your name?” Kazuko asked, eyeing the more pressing injury on the girl’s right arm. A jagged cut ran elbow to wrist, bleeding profusely. She hadn’t tried to close it, probably not realizing how quickly she was going into shock. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“She had no right,” the girl murmured, eyes fluttering shut. Her lips smacked together, the scent of alcohol overwhelming when she breathed out a curse. “Bitch.”

Kazuko reached up to loosen the tie around his neck, thankful that he hadn’t gone home to change before getting a drink. He studied the arm wound for a moment, then knelt. Blood soaked through the knee of his pants as he wrapped his tie around the girl’s bicep, a couple of inches above the elbow. Using his free hand, he dug a pen from his bag and positioned it on top before tying the cloth a second time. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“They fucking pulled knives,” the woman mumbled, chin sinking toward her chest as she snorted. “Like chunin stood a chance against Anbu.”

Kazuko secured the device around the woman’s upper arm, frowning. “You’re a shinobi?”

“Obviously., I’m—” The girl hissed and jerked into a sitting position when Kazuko turned the pen and tightened the tourniquet around her arm. “Ow, that fucking hurts.”

Kazuko nodded without talking his eyes away from the wound. The hemorrhage slowed, then stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief before resting a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, sorry about that. Let’s have a look at this cut on your stomach.”

Dragging some gauze from his bag, Kazuko clipped off the girl’s terrible stitches and pressed the white fabric against the gash. She arched and hissed, but she didn’t pull away. Kazuko held the pressure for several long seconds, then taped it off. He rocked back onto his heels. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

The girl smiled, head cocked to the side as she studied Kazuko from a different angle. “My pride stings a bit if you want to examine that.”

Despite everything, Kazuko managed a chuckle. “I’m going to have to take a rain check, especially since I don’t even know your name.”

“Saiyo,” the woman exhaled and closed her eyes. Kazuko was almost certain that she’d fainted, then she repeated herself. “My name is Saiyo.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Kazuko offered a small bow. “I’m Takeda Kazuko, and we’ve got to get you to the hospital. Then, I can page the Haruno-sen—”

Saiyo grabbed the lapel of Kazuko’s shirt, amusement clearing from her eyes like he’d imagined it. “Not Sakura.”

Kazuko frowned. “Haruno-sensei is a talented medic. She’ll be able to cure your injuries in minutes instead of weeks.”

“I don’t care, I’d rather die than ask for her help.” Saiyo pushed Kazuko away, and shook her head. “Actually I’m feeling much better now, I’ll just be on my way.”

“You’ve lost too—” Kazuko started to warn the woman that she shouldn’t make any sudden movements, when she pushed onto her feet. While her training undoubtedly gave her physical prowess, it couldn’t master everything. Saiyo’s eyes rolled back into her head as she collapsed into Kazuko’s arms. Sighing, he continued. “You’ve lost too much blood to stand up without help. Your blood pressure will drop, then you’ll faint.”

Easing Saiyo to the ground, Kazuko shook his head. He checked her pulse to make sure she was stable enough for him to get help, then lifted the woman into his arms. Kazuko silently cursed his aversion to the gym as he staggered forward two steps; shinobi made this look much easier than it was.

Whumptober, Day 16 - Kakashi/Tenzo

Prompt:On a need to know basis (recovery, scars, aftermath)
Fandom:Naruto
Characters:Tenzo/Kakashi
Rating: M (mention of graphic torture, injuries)
Words:1298 (oops lol)
Notes:Requested by @vibgyoroygbiv. This one is also late, but I’ve been sick. We’ll get caught up. This story references events from a much longer fic of mine called Find Me in the Dark if you want the background, but it isn’t necessary to understand this piece.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Kakashi encouraged, pushing the door to his apartment wider. Dust motes floated across his vision, and he wished he’d taken some time to clean before inviting Tenzo over, but there hadn’t been time. “Did you want to take a shower or something?”

Tenzo shook his head without speaking, moving toward the couch. He sank onto the cushions and fidgeted with his pants leg. “You don’t have to do this senpai. I’m okay to go home.”

Humming under his breath, Kakashi nodded. “You might be ready, but I’m not sure that I am.”

It had been less than two hours since Tenzo was released from the hospital where he’d stayed for two days. Tsunade said the man was physically well enough after his ordeal, but his mental state was another story. She didn’t quite suggest that Kakashi should stay with him, but the implication was there. He hadn’t needed it. Kakashi wasn’t going to let Tenzo out of his sight.

“Can I get you anything?” Kakashi asked, glancing toward the kitchen. “Something to eat? Water? A stiff drink?”

Tenzo sighed. “I don’t need or want anything. I’m fine.”

You’re not fine. You were just tortured. You lost so much blood that Sakura couldn’t heal you. You almost died in my arms. The panicked thoughts raced through Kakashi’s mind, but he nodded instead of acknowledging them. “Okay.”

The pair sat in silence for several minutes while Tenzo looked everywhere except Kakashi. Deciding to leave him in peace, Kakashi pulled Icha, Icha off the table and started leafing through the familiar book. None of the words sank in. Tenzo glanced over once, but Kakashi kept his eyes on the page. Minute dragged toward an hour without speaking, but he did nothing to break it. Tenzo visibly relaxed, shoulders lowering as his breath grew deeper. Still, Kakashi didn’t comment.

A scream shattered the silence, the sound more playful than terrified. Kakashi assumed it was some kids playing, or perhaps a jutsu gone wrong and the inherent teasing that came with that. He turned to ask Tenzo what he thought of it and was shocked to see the whites of the man’s eyes. He sat rigid, hands clenched on the edge of the cushion. Kakashi frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Tenzo shook his head without answering, sucking rapid breaths through his lips. Kakashi set his book aside and moved closer. “I can’t,” Tenzo gasped, eyes darting around the room. “I—”

The man clutched at his heavy flak vest, so Kakashi helped him shrug it off. A shrill breath whistled in Tenzo’s throat as he pushed down the fabric covering his neck. Kakashi raised one hand to the newly revealed skin and pressed. Tenzo’s too fast pulse pounded beneath his fingers. He shied away, eyes on the door like he expected it to crash open at any moment.

“Look at me,” Kakashi pleaded. Another loud crash, likely someone dropping something in the next door apartment, made Tenzo cry out.

On a whim, Kakashi caught Tenzo’s hand and led him deeper into the apartment. The bedroom was furthest away from the noise of the street, especially after Kakashi closed the door and windows. He returned to Tenzo’s side. “You’re safe here,” he whispered, voice growing thick on the words.

Nearly a week ago, Kakashi had no idea where Tenzo was or how badly his mission had gone, only that he needed to find him. He recalled the injuries and blood loss that he’s seen, then the crippling fear that he’d been too late. Promising that he was safe felt dishonest.

“I wish I could promise that nobody else will ever hurt you either,” Kakashi continued, taking another step toward Tenzo. The man raised haunted, questioning eyes. Kakashi brushed over the scar that curled over Tenzo’s cheek. He traced the path toward the man’s temple. “What happened here?”

Tenzo closed his eyes, but his head tipped toward Kakashi’s hand. He exhaled in a soft whoosh and shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.” Kakashi smoothed his thumb across the area a second time. “But, you need to.”

For a moment, Tenzo didn’t speak or move. The tension between them stretched and grew until Kakashi wondered if he’d made a mistake. Maybe Tenzo wanted to be alone, and the extra attention was making him uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t want Kakashi around because he blamed him for not getting there soon enough. Maybe he wanted—

“It was from a shuriken when I was first captured,” Tenzo whispered, cringing at even the lightest touch.

Kakashi spied another scar along Tenzo’s jaw and allowed his slide along it until skin met fabric. He eased the half mask down and let it hang toward his chest. Tenzo blew out a breath as the pad of Kakashi’s thumb followed the scar toward his shoulder. He tried not to think about how close the slash had come to ending his life. The opposite shoulder rose in a shrug. “A kunai.”

Though Kakashi had seen the damage first hand, there had been too much blood to catalogue the injuries. With a questioning sound he reached for the hem of Tenzo’s shirt. When the younger man didn’t stop him, he raised it. It took considerable control not to gasp at the roadmap of torture written across the pale skin. Kakashi laid the garment aside and sucked in a breath that provided too little air.

Kakashi smoothed a palm over the man’s right side, surprised the man shifted away from the touch. Pale scars ran along Tenzo’s ribs with a deep, puckered scar between two of them, large enough for Kakashi’s knuckle to sink into. He caressed the abused skin, but Tenzo showed no emotion when he answered. “Kabuto punctured my lung, mostly to see if it would reinflate on its own.”

As Kakashi drew back, his hand shook from either rage or sorrow. He didn’t try to figure out which. The skin over Tenzo’s heart was marred with an intricate pattern of scars. When Kakashi’s palm covered the area, Tenzo blew out a breath. “Those were done with a chakra scalpel.”

“Hot metal of some sort, meant to test my body’s ability to heal around cauterization,” Tenzo supplied, indicating a long, dark scar on the side of his stomach. “I passed out before Kabuto could finish the explanation.”

“Flayed,” Tenzo continued in the same monotonous tone, offering his left wrist with an irregular pattern encircling it. He raised his hand to display the missing joint on his left index finger. “I can’t remember what he used for this, only that it hurt like hell. What’s the point of this?”

Shame and guilt threatened to overwhelm Kakashi as he caught Tenzo’s hand. He turned the man’s wrist over and pressed a light kiss to the blemished skin. Tenzo’s breath caught at the movement. “I am so sorry,” Kakashi murmured, accenting each word with a gentle caress. He ended with his lips against a mark behind Tenzo’s ear that he still didn’t know the cause of. “I should have been there.”

Tenzo shuddered, crumbling in an instant. A sob caught in his throat, tangling in his vocal cords without fully forming. Kakashi pulled him closer, slanting their mouths together as if he could capture the pain and erase it. Tenzo clutched his back, fingers digging in painfully. When they broke apart, Tenzo shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I almost lost you,” Kakashi breathed, trying to control the emotion that crept into his voice. “I let you go, and I didn’t say all the things—”

Tenzo absorbed the confession in a feather light kiss that stole the remainder of Kakashi’s words. He wiped at his eyes and offered a fragile smile, squeezing Kakashi’s hand. “You found me, that’s what matters.”

Whumptober, Day 14 - Kakashi/Yamato

Prompt:Under Pressure (crush injures, beaten, force)
FandomNaruto
Characters:Tenzo and Kakashi
Rating:T
Words:873
Notes:Requested by @vibgyoroygbiv

The deafening roar of falling rock filled the cavern, rumbling and echoing through the darkness. Kakashi tried to draw a breath through the pain in his lungs. The explosion had thrown him forward, and he’d lost all sense of where he was. He’d tumbled across the ground, finally coming to rest against one wall. Thick dust and rock debris filled the air and made it hard to breathe. For several heartbeats, Kakashi coughed and wheezed in an effort to clear his throat. Then, silence surrounded him.

Pushing to his feet, Kakashi choked out another breath. “Tenzo?”

The younger man had been only a few steps behind Kakashi, urging him to run when they saw the explosive tags. They’d walked in a trap with the cave, but Tenzo had seen it in time to save both their lives. Kakashi called his teammate’s name again, reaching for the flashlight in his pouch. Thankfully, it hadn’t been broken in the collapse, but it still took banging on the bottom a couple times to get it turned on. He really should have checked it before they left Konoha.

Kakashi blinked at the passageway, a heap of broken rocks and dirt. He flicked his light across the damage, searching for a sign of Tenzo. Pain drew his attention, and he glanced at his right shoulder. The skin had peeled away when he skidded across the ground, leaving an angry red rash behind. For now, Kakashi could ignore it.

“Tenzo,” Kakashi tried again, the vestiges of panic starting to swirl in his gut.

A soft, muffled sound reached Kakashi’s ears, and he moved toward it. Rocks blocked the way, but he pushed them aside when he could and scrambled over when he couldn’t. “I’m coming,” he murmured, focusing on not causing a second cave in.

Kakashi rounded the corner and found Tenzo sitting against one wall of the cave. A thick crack ran across the cat mask that covered the man’s face and blood splattered his silver chest plate. Kakashi exhaled in relief. “Come on,” he gestured toward the way he’d come. “We need to get out of here.”

Tenzo’s chuckle held more than a touch of pain. “I don’t think I’m getting out of here.”

A deep rumble accentuated Tenzo’s words, and a second wave of dust flooded the corridor. Kakashi flicked his light over the man’s body. Ice slid through his veins and he fumbled his hold on the flashlight, dropping it beside him. It lit the surface of the boulder that trapped Tenzo’s right leg almost up to the hip. The man chuckled weakly. “Yeah.”

Kakashi’s vision doubled, overlaying the image of Tenzo with a much younger shinobi. He heard Rin sobbing in the distance, felt his own shock and pain with a force that made it hard to breathe. The smell of blood and death hung in the air. Kakashi couldn’t draw enough air, the room shimmered at the edges. He crouched, frozen by the repetition of his worst nightmares.

Something warm caught Kakashi’s forearm and squeezed. Obito disappeared, his sharp features melting into Tenzo’s softer ones. The man tried to smile, but the wince of pain revealed the truth. “You should go,” Tenzo encouraged, coughing through another dust induced spasm. “We don’t know how long this will hold.”

Another rumble shook the ground, showering the pair with bits of stone. Kakashi shook his head numbly, still crouching in the same spot. “I’m not leaving you. Don’t ask me to do that.”

Tenzo coughed, wincing when the movement jostled his leg. “The whole place will come down if we move this one.” He jutted his chin toward the precarious mountain of rocks above him. “See?”

Studying the uneven structure, Kakashi sighed. He shook his head as panic closed over him a second time. “I’m not leaving you,” Kakashi repeated.

Tenzo smiled with bloody lips. “It’s okay. I’m thankful for the time—”

“No,” Kakashi growled, fingers flying through signs before his conscious mind caught up with them. He sank into the ground, disappearing into dirt and stone. Judging the distance, he caught Tenzo’s body and dragged him through the earth. The scream of pain tore at Kakashi’s ear drums, but he didn’t stop.

Seconds passed in hours before Kakashi resurfaced. Tenzo hung from his arms, head dropping to the side. He couldn’t worry about that either. The rocks that had crushed Tenzo’s leg shifted, but held for the moment when they reappeared beside them. Headhunter jutsu took a lot of chakra, but Kakshi would happily spend what he had left. He fumbled Tenzo onto the ground, trying to ignore the ruin of blood and bone that was his right leg.

“Hang on,” Kakashi murmured, pulling a strip of cloth from his pack. He wrapped it tight around the man’s thigh and secured it, cutting off the blood flow. Kakashi didn’t know if it was enough, or even if it was the right thing to do, only that it would stop the bleeding. His fingers pushed under Tenzo’s jaw, feeling the too fast beat of the man’s heart.

“Don’t die,” Kakashi whispered as he scooped Tenzo into his arms as gently as possible. “You’re all I have left.”

A distant rumble of tumbling stones answered the plea.

Whumptober, Day 12 - Setsumi/Genma

Prompt:It’ll be fun they said (torture, made to watch, begging)
Fandom:Naruto
Pairing:Setsumi (OC) / Genma (from Heart in a Silver Cage)
Rating:M
Words:707
Notes:One day late and lightly edited. I’m only human lol

Setsumi struggled against the man holding her arms, gaining a backhand for her trouble. She supposed that she should take pleasure in the fact that they deemed her dangerous enough to have two guards, but it lessened her chance of escape. The men had surprised her when she’d been trying to find Genma. He’d missed his check in and probably been compromised while searching for their target. Mission protocol demanded that she leave him to his fate rather than risk failure, but nothing had been going to plan.

The guards dragged Setsumi down a darkened staircase that led underground to some sort of cell, she assumed. The fact that Gouu owned a home big enough to have a private dungeon only proved that the man had more expansive resources than they’d been led to believe. They were in over their heads, and Konoha wouldn’t know they were missing until at least a week. If Setsumi and Genma couldn’t escape this mess on their own, they weren’t getting out.

One of the men opened a heavy door, then shoved Setsumi through. “Found another one, boss.”

There was no surprise in Gouu’s black eyes as they slid over Setumi. He chuckled humorlessly. “I knew you were too muscular to be a civilian, but I didn’t expect you to be a traitor.”

“Well, you can’t have everything,” Setsumi’s grin was undoubtedly spoiled by the blood on her busted lip.

Gouu snorted and shook his head. “Is banter something they train you shinobi in, or are both of you stupid enough to think these witty remarks mean you’ve won something?”

Before Setsumi could continue, Gouu waved a hand dismissively. “No matter. I’m glad you’re here. You’ve made it just in time for the main event.”

Following the man’s gaze, Setsumi’s heart stuttered in her chest. On the other side of the room, Genma was strapped to a chair, head lolling to the side. His right eye was swollen shut, and fresh blood dappled his bare chest. Pink and red marks splotched his skin, promising bruises if they survived the night. A long, untreated gash oozed blood down the side of his neck. Setsumi bit back a cry.

“He hasn’t been cooperative.” Gouu moved closer to the chair that Setsumi had been forced into, as if he were confiding in her. “You could save us all the trouble and tell us who you’re working for.”

Setsumi spat in Gouu’s face. A cuff from one of the guards left her ears ringing, but the man wiped the liquid away and waved a hand. One of the three guards beside Genma, grabbed his hair and forced his head backward. Genma grunted when the second draped a cloth over his face. It seemed innocuous, especially when Genma didn’t struggle. Then, Setsumi saw the pitcher of water on the table. The final guard lifted the container and tipped it over Genma’s face.

The reaction was instantaneous. Genma arched and tried to jerk free, but the guard tightened his hold on the man’s head and forced it further back. Water dripped down Genma’s cheeks from either side of the cloth. His heels drummed against the floor as one captor held his head tipped back for the water to work its way into his nose and mouth. The torture could have lasted for twenty seconds or an hour. When it was over, Genma’s head was jerked upright. He spluttered and coughed, vomiting water down his chest.

The sound dragged on for what seemed like an eternity. When Setsumi tried to turn away, Gouu’s fingers pinched into her jaw and forced her to watch. “You will tell me what I want to know, or you’ll watch him drown, again and again.”

Genma started to say something, but his head was forced backward a second time. A muffled cry of terror slid between Genma’s lips as the wet cloth covered his face. Water dripped down his hair to puddle on the ground and his fingers clawed the arms of the chair. Bruising fingertips held Setsumi’s chin. Eternity stretched with Genma gasping and gagging as the water dripped in a cadence she’d never forget.

“Stop,” Setsumi growled, vaguely aware of the dampness on her cheeks. “Stop, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Whumptober, Day 11 - Tenzo and Sakura

Prompt:Just Keep Swimming (adrift, drowning, dehydration)
Fandom:Naruto
Characters:Tenzo and Sakura
Words:628
Rating:T
Notes:Ambiguous ending, you’ve been warned

Sunlight pierced through the thin canopy of leaves overhead, blinding Tenzo where he lay. He curled onto his other side, swatting blindly at the rays. Part of him knew that he needed to move, to crawl deeper into the shade before his skin blistered from the heat, but the effort seemed too great. Tenzo tried to count how many days had passed since the world ended, but he couldn’t make his mind calculate the numbers.

The gentle lapping of waves against the shore had sounded peaceful when they’d started this forsaken mission. His entire team had laughed, comparing a mission in the Land of Waves as a vacation rather than work. Now, Tenzo would give anything to hear the soft twitter of birds arguing amongst whispering tree limbs. He ran his tongue over sandpaper dry lips, trying to impart moisture, but his body had none left to give.

The island that Tenzo had ended up on was small enough for him to walk completely around in two hours without using chakra. If there was any sign of fresh water, he hadn’t been able to find it. Pushing into a sitting position, he used one hand to scan the horizon and empty sea around him. White caps danced in brilliant water, but there was nothing else within sight. If he’d had the energy, he would have laughed. The ability to walk on water didn’t do him much good if he didn’t know which way to go.

Tenzo tried to swallow, but his throat felt swollen. He wondered if the rest of his team had made it back to shore. They might be looking for him, but the chance grew thinner with every passing hour. Rubbing at his temples to try and lessen the headache, Tenzo looked around. He should get up and go look for water again, but he was exhausted. He curled into a fetal position on the poorly shaded sand and closed his eyes.

“Tenzo?” The soft sound of Sakura’s voice drew Tenzo from his fitful rest. He tried to smile, especially when she turned a strand of dark hair behind one ear. Dying her hair black had been her way of disguising herself for the mission. Tenzo still wasn’t sure it had worked. He would have known her in any lifetime.

“You came,” Tenzo managed, voice cracked and papery. He tried to wet his lips again, but he couldn’t manage it.

Sakura knelt on the sand, and raised one hand to smooth over Tenzo’s brow. He leaned into the touch as her lips brushed his forehead. “I will always come for you.”

Tenzo managed a weak hum of agreement; that felt easier than talking. The pain in his head returned, pounding with the thrumming of his heart beat. He needed something, but he couldn’t remember what it was. His vision blurred, then steadied. Sakura wiped something cool across his face. “Just rest,” Sakura murmured. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Closing his eyes, Tenzo nestled back into the intent that his body had made in the sand. The pain grew less as he drew a shallow breath. He opened his eyes, searching for Sakura, but the sun was too bright. Tenzo needed to tell her… something. He didn’t know what it was, but it was important. She needed to know.

Tenzo groaned Sakura’s name, fighting the pull of sleep. Her voice sounded like the wind when she shushed him, the words too soft to pick up. Sakura lifted Tenzo’s head to her lap and brushed through his hair. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay.”

Hours later, when the sun sank toward the horizon, it painted the beach in shades of pink and purple. A solitary figure lay unmoving beneath the trees, head pillowed on the sand.

Whumptober, Day 10 - Saiyo/Kazuko (Healing Hands)

Prompt:Oops, I did it again (hosptial, flare-up, icechips)
Fandom:Naruto
Characters:Saiyo/Kazuko (both are OCs from Healing Hands)
Words:747
Notes:Mild language warning. For @cinlat

Pain dragged Saiyo from the warm confines of sleep. Grunting, she reached toward her stomach, then hissed and opened her eyes. She tried to piece the tattered scraps of her memory back together. There had definitely been some cursing and a few punches thrown, but the details were lost in a haze of alcohol and unconsciousness. The harsh overhead lights sent pain spiraling through her temple.

“Saiyo?” At the sound of her name, the woman squinted to the side. Kazuko stood next to the bed, face drawn. “Do you know where you are?”

A beam of light attempted to burn Saiyo’s eyes from her head, and she jerked away. “Dammit,” she cursed. “That’s fucking bright.”

Kazuko drew the instrument away and blessed darkness flooded Siayo’s vision. It took a couple of seconds for her surroundings to come into focus. A machine beeped a steady rhythm beside her, urgent and demanding. Something wrapped tight around her upper arm, squeezing. An undercurrent of ambient noise competed with the tense silence that permeated the space.

Saiyo’s gaze returned to Kazuko. The man stood beside the bed, but his lab coat was noticeably missing. She studied him, trying to determine why that felt so out of place. His t-shirt was spattered heavily with blood across the middle. Saiyo had never seen him wear anything except dress shirts for work. Her gaze traveled upward to his bloodshot, tired eyes and the fear behind them.

Before Saiyo could form her thoughts, a door opened to her left. “Takeda-sensei, we’re almost ready for her.”

Kazuko hummed and turned to face the approaching girl. She rested her fingers on Kazuko’s forearm in a movement that Saiyo found far too intimate for her liking.. “She’ll be in good hands.”

“What are you talking about,” Saiyo growled, glaring between the two of them.

The nurse started to turn toward the bed, but Kazuko raised a hand. She stopped and held out a file. Kazuko rubbed over his head as he scanned the document. “You were injured.”

“No shit,” Saiyo hissed, wincing against the pain in her stomach. It felt like she’d been pummeled within an inch of her life.

Kazuko ignored the outburst. “Mission, training, or bar brawl, who knows? You’ve got a concussion, lots of bruising, and probably some internal bleeding. We’re going to send you for a scan, and then possibly surgery.”

“Wait, what?” Saiyo sat up and immediately regretted it when the room swam around her.

Sighing, Kazuko pressed Saiyo’s shoulder back toward the bed. “We can do this with traditional medicine, or I can page Haruno-sensei.”

Saiyo’s lip curled at the name. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with the annoying Anbu medic. She sighed. “Fine, let’s see if your healing is on par with ninjustu.”

When Kazuko didn’t laugh, Saiyo tipped her head to the side to watch him. “What? I’m conscious. It can’t be that bad.”

“You were barely conscious when you showed up at my door,” Kazuko answered, shaking his head. He turned away to look out the window, the darkness of late night staring back. Saiyo started to open her mouth, but he didn’t give her time to respond. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Alarms went off in the back of Saiyo’s mind. “Doing what?”

Kazuko drummed his finger on his thigh. Saiyo watched the movement and realized the soft fabric beneath was pajama bottoms. He’s not on duty, she realized with a start. He’s the one who brought me in. Shit.

Kazuko sighed and gestured around the room. “I spend my days putting broken people back together. I don’t want to do it in my down time, too.”

The air went out of the room. Saiyo heard the machine behind pick up its pace. “What are you saying?”

“Sakura was right,” Kazuko admitted. “You need more help than I can give you. What you’re doing isn’t healthy, and it’s going to get you killed. I don’t want to be there to watch it.”

Saiyo’s mouth worked to form words, but they wouldn’t come. The nurse returned before she could regain control of her body. Kazuko spoke to the girl, but Saiyo didn’t hear it. She’d already lost Tenzo, she couldn’t bear to lose him too. Reaching out, she tried to catch Kazuko’s arm, but he pulled it away and nodded to the nurse. “I’ll be in my office if you need an extra pair of hands.”

Kazuko didn’t turn around when Saiyo called his name.

Whumptober, Day 9 - Kakashi/Sakura

Prompt:Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated (presumed dead, (blind) rage, tears)
Fandom:Naruto
Characters:Kakashi/Sakura
Words:754
Author’s Note: This was requested by anonymous. I hope you see and enjoy it! (Story below the cut)

Angry streaks of lightning provided fitful light as rain rattled the window casement. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. Sakura curled on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon. A dull pain in her lower back warned that she hadn’t moved in hours, but she couldn’t bring herself to shift position. It felt like too much effort. She welcomed the storm, wondered if she could step into it and simply stop existing.

A sharp pang flared to life in Sakura’s chest, one that she’d grown intimately familiar with. She hadn’t known that heartache could be a physical sensation, that it would hurt with the same symptoms of a heart attack. Thick bands squeezed her lungs until drawing breath cost more than it supplied. It wasn’t until she hiccuped through another bout of tears that she realized she’d been crying, again.

Sakura had thought the tears would run out eventually, but her body seemed to find new reserves every day. She’d held it together through the funeral, through the carefully veiled apologies and offers of support, through the crass remarks from people who didn’t know. It hadn’t even been the picture of Team Seven that did her in when she got back to her apartment: it was the orange book lying on the table, a scrap of paper marking Kakashi’s place. She’d dashed it against the wall in a fury, then clutched it to her chest as the tears fell. Sakura hadn’t been sure they would stop.

For years, Sakura had dealt with grief as an abstract emotion, something she helped other people through. It was necessary in her line of work. She’d felt it before, of course, but not like this. Those instances were a puddle beside an ocean; the water closing over her head. She hadn’t been to work or left the apartment in over two weeks. Ino had brought food and a shoulder to cry on, and Naruto had tried his best to be optimistic, but Sakura shunned it. Tsunade had tried to shame her into honoring Kakashi’s memory by pushing through the grief. Sakura hadn’t answered the knocks since.

Thunder rattled the door in its frame, then came a second time. Sakura frowned at the sound, taking several heartbeats to realize that it was someone knocking. She wrapped her arms around her ears to shut the noise out. There was no one out there that she wanted to see, no one who could erase the pain of her loss. The sound stopped, only for the door to swing inward. Icy wind and rain swirled into the apartment and lightning silhouetted a figure in the door. Sakura’s lungs seized.

Kakashi limped into the room, silver hair slicked to his forehead by the damp. Sakura threw off the blanket and rose on shaky knees. “You’re dead.”

“Not quite,” Kakashi chuckled. “It turns out that rumors of my death have been greatly—”

Kakashi’s words died in a whoosh of air when Sakura punched him. The man curled forward in pain, but caught the second attack in his hand. Sakura’s open palmed slap staggered him to the side. Tears or rain blinded Sakura, but her hands connected with Kakashi’s armor and chest. A sob lodged in her throat. “I went to your funeral. I saw your name—”

Arms closed around Sakura, trapping her fists against Kakashi’s chest. The embrace made it hard to breathe, but somehow didn’t feel tight enough. “I’m sorry,” Kakashi murmured.

“You’re sorry?” Rage and relief fought a knife-edged battle in Sakura’s chest. “You’re fucking sorry?”

The grip around Sakura tightened, and Kakashi kicked the door shut behind him with one foot. “Yes,” Kakashi answered, releasing Sakura and taking a step back. “If I could have let you know sooner, I would have.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” Sakura growled, accenting every word with a sharp poke.

Kakashi winced and wrapped an arm around his middle. “Okay,” he agreed, sagging forward. “But, we should talk about it later. I’m pretty sure you reopened at least two of my wounds and added a few more.”

A flush heated Sakura’s face as she pulled Kakashi toward the couch. “It’s no less than you deserve,” she grumbled, but the heat had gone out of her words.

Lowering himself to the couch, Kakashi nodded. He closed his eyes and relaxed against the cushions, entire body going lax. Sakura smoothed her hand over his forehead and drew a deep breath in preparation for healing. It felt like the first one she’d taken in weeks.

Whumptober, Day 7 - KakaSaku (mostly Sakura)

Prompt:My spidey-sense is tingling (helplessness, numbness, blindness)
Fandom:Naruto
Pairing/Characters:Kakashi, Sakura, and Tsunade
Words:918
Rating:T
Notes:This was requested by @birkastan2018 and it’s already spawned a full 3,000 word story. I couldn’t have the whole thing done by today sadly, so he’s the blip that started it.

Something surrounded Sakura, denser than water yet lighter than air at the same time. She was floating, a feather caught in the breeze or a leaf in a river. It would be simple to be carried away, easier than fighting the current. A familiar voice called Sakura’s name, but it came from a long distance. For a second, she considered ignoring it. The submersion was comfortable, familiar even. Still, she knew she didn’t belong here. Sakura stretched toward the sound, but she couldn’t brush the surface.

The call came again, annoying in its insistence. Sakura struggled to burst through the bubble of unconsciousness. Awareness returned in gentle waves, sense by sense. Sakura would have laughed at the irony if she’d had control of her voice; she’d always hated the sound of the heart rate monitor, but it was the first concrete link to the real world that she had. Her eyes were too heavy to open, but the machine maintained a steady thrum beside her. That was enough for now, the rest would come.

Focusing all of her energy, Sakura drew a breath into her tender lungs. It was shallow and weak, but it was real. She felt, rather than saw, someone shift from her bedside. The machine behind her picked up in rhythm, increasing with the beat of her heart. A door opened to her left. Sakura turned toward the sound, anxiety stirring in her stomach.

A hand touched Sakura’s shoulder, then caught her wrist to check her pulse. “Sakura? Do you know where you are?”

“The hospital,” Sakura answered. Fear rose like bile in the back of her throat. She recognized Tsunade’s voice, but she couldn’t see the woman. Trembling hands rose toward her face, but someone pulled her arms down. “I can’t see anything,” she whispered.

Tsunade hummed from an alarmingly close distance, and Sakura shied away from the sound. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I,” Sakura opened her mouth to answer, then realized that she didn’t. She shook her head, trying to stop the overwhelming panic that threatened her consciousness. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“There was an explosion and your eyes were injured, from the container, the substance inside, or maybe the smoke. I don’t know yet, but chakra doesn’t seem to help. I’ve bandaged them for now.” Tsunade rested a hand on top of Sakura’s head, smoothing her hair. “Now that you’re awake, we can take them off.”

The relief that washed through Sakura’s stomach was so powerful that it almost made her sick. She nodded, then stilled as Tsunade unwrapped the gauze around her head. The process seemed to stretch for hours, but eventually cool air caressed the overheated skin. Sakura exhaled as Tsunade spoke in soft, careful tones. “I’m going to remove the patches now. Take your time, and open them whenever you feel ready.”

Not trusting her voice, Sakura nodded. The medic removed the final barrier with a tug of tape against Sakura’s eyebrow. For two heartbeats, Sakura didn’t move. Then, she opened her eyes. Frowning, she tried a second time. By the third, terror gripped her lungs. A pen light clicked to life by her ear, but she never saw it. “I can’t see anything,” she exhaled, voice trembling.

Panic rose in Sakura’s throat, hot and rancid. She swallowed the taste of vomit. Tsunade was talking, her voice rambling through medical terminology that might as well be a foreign language for all that Sakura took in. I’ll never practice medicine again, she realized with a start. I’ll never go on another mission. I’ll never watch the sun rise over the training fields. I’ll never see—

“That’s enough,” Kakashi rumbled from Sakura’s right. She turned blindly toward the sound as a second wave of pain locked her lungs. His hand touched hers, an anchor in the sudden sea of unfamiliarity. “Take a breath. You’re okay.”

“I am not okay.” Sakura bit off the words as the scenarios in her mind spun out of control. She’d never see Ino’s wedding dress or watch Naruto don the Hokage robes. She’d never have a normal life. “It would have been better if I died.”

Kakashi’s hand squeezed hers with an intensity that was almost painful. “Stop it,” he growled.

“We don’t know that this is permanent”

“He’s right.” When Tsunade thumbed Sakura’s left eye open, there was no change to the darkness that surrounded her. “It’s early, still. I didn’t want to intervene before we knew the extent of the damage.”

Sakura laughed, the sound sharp enough to slice her throat. “And, now you do.” She jerked her hand away from Kakashi. “Can both of you leave, please?”

Tsunade started to speak, but Kakashi said something too soft for Sakura to hear and the woman fell silent. She couldn’t see what he did, and her stomach clenched when she realized that this was what the rest of her life would look like. Tears stung her eyes, and she wanted to laugh at the irony of feeling the liquid on her skin. After a moment, two pairs of footsteps retreated, and the heavy door clicked into place like the sound of a coffin lid closing

Sakura rolled onto her side and knew a moment of terror when her arm met open air. Her stomach lurched with the dizzying sensation of falling, and she realized that she wouldn’t be able to move without assistance again. Tears welled against her lashes as Sakura curled into a fetal position. In the darkness, Sakura sobbed into her pillow.

Whumptober, Day 6 - SaiIno

Prompt:Touch and Go (bruises, touch starved, hunger)
Fandom:Naruto
Pairing:Sai/Ino
Rating:T
Words:941
Notes:This wasn’t a request, but I wanted to write these two. This is a background piece from Healing Hands (a YamaSaku story that’s in progress)

Candlelight danced on the wall, throwing the room in shades of shadow and soft light. The highlights on Ino’s cheek bones were lovely, shifting as she continued to tell her story. Sai tried to focus on the words, but the sound of her voice was like a lullabye. She was talking about her day, and he only managed to make snippets of the conversation fit into his memory. There was something about Sakura, but that wasn’t unusual. The women had become friends in the past few weeks.

After a minute, Sai sat up straighter and forced his mind back to the task at hand. “Wait, what was that about Anbu?”

“Sakura said she’d referred a couple to T&I for counseling,” Ino continued, tipping her head to the side. She caught her crimson lip between perfect white teeth, then managed a weak laugh. “I was afraid that you were one of them since you hadn’t been around in a while.”

“It’s been two weeks,” Sai amended with a shake of his head. “I’ve been on a mission.”

Ino hummed and took a sip of the wine that she’d poured them hours ago. Sai’s remained untouched on the table beside him. “I know,’ Ino sighed, placing her glass next to his. “But, it could have been you.”

“Unlikely, Sakura didn’t say anything at my physical,” Sai reasoned. He shifted position and kept his face carefully impassive. “I’m sure she would have said something, if she was worried.”

Another soft hum left Ino’s throat, but the woman didn’t seem aware of it. Her head was tipped to the side, studying Sai through the fall of blond hair that covered one eye. “You’re right, but I was worried all the same.”

Something warm and foreign opened in Sai’s chest, a light feeling of giddiness that he’d never experienced. “I’m sor—” Sai lost his words in the soft brush of Ino’s lips against his. He sat stunned for half a second, then his mind caught up with his body. Oh. Ohhhh.

Sai let out a shallow breath, suddenly aware of Ino in a way that he’d never been cognizant before. Her hands splayed on each side of his hips, and her pale eyes inches from his, waiting for a response. He exhaled in a nervous chuckle and continued his earlier thought. “I’m sorry to worry you. It wasn’t me.”

“But, it could have been,” Ino countered without moving away.

The woman’s presence made it difficult to think of a response, but Sai wasn’t sure that Ino wanted one. The expression on her face was foreign and dizzying. He found himself wishing he’d drank the wine without knowing why. The second kiss lasted longer, trapping Sai’s breath in his lung to the point of pain. When they broke apart, he realized that Ino had moved closer. One hand rested against his chest when she blew out a soft breath. “I don’t want to lose you too.”

Sai wanted to assure Ino that she wouldn’t lose him, that he was right there, but the words tasted false. He’d seen enough people die to know that tomorrow wasn’t promised, especially in his line of work. Ino knew that too; she’d lost more than most. Carefully, Sai raised one hand to brush across Ino’s cheek. “You won’t,” he answered, suddenly understanding why people lied.

Weight settled on Sai’s thighs and his arms closed around Ino’s back with a familiarity that left him reeling. If her mouth was warm against his, her body felt like an inferno. He lost track of time, of anything but the flutter light kisses that brushed over his jaw. It could have been seconds or hours when Ino shifted and pain exploded from Sai’s side. He grit his teeth and tried to smooth his features, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Ino pulled away, chest rising and falling distractingly as she caught her breath. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Sai answered, a heartbeat too fast to be honest.

Ino’s lips slid into a frown, brought her hand back to the position it had been moments before, and pressed. Sai hissed through clenched teeth. Frowning, Ino sat back and undid the first four buttons of his shirt. She pulled the fabric aside and his name left her mouth in a chiding gasp. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine. It’ll heal in a few days.” Sai watched the horror dawning on Ino’s face with a sort of morbid fascination.

Ino traced across the bare skin with more tenderness than desire, following the angry red and black marks on Sai’s pale skin. The bruise covered almost the entire left side of his chest, a deep purple blotch that centered just below the pectoral muscle. Angry streaks sprayed across the skin in every direction, fading the further away from the point of impact. Ino traced one that wrapped around his back. “Have you been to the hospital?”

“I’m fine,” Sai repeated, catching Ino’s hand and guiding it away from the mark. “In a week or two, you won’t even know that it happened.”

The woman frowned and moved to sit beside Sai on the couch. The loss of her weight and warmth left him feeling disoriented. “You should still get it checked out.”

“I will,” he said, and was surprised to find that he meant it.

Ino brushed her hair behind one ear, then nodded toward the movie that they’d been planning to watch. “It’s getting late, we better get started.”

The woman spoke as if the past fifteen minutes hadn’t changed everything between them. Sai didn’t know what to say, so he nodded and tried to figure out what happened and why.