Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Casualty ❯ Chapter 1

A/N. Yes, I am well, well aware how twisted this is. Also, I don't know where it came from, and yes, shamelessly shipping my otp. If it makes you feel any better, I felt incredibly dirty after writing this. Anyway, enjoy. ^^.

 

 

 

“K-K-K-Kanku-aahh!”

Eyes shut and lips parted face flushed body heat and breath coming in ragged gasps.

The puppet master had dreamed of this.

Dreamed of his name on those lips and butterflies in his gut, of dark hair splayed across his fingers.

 

The gods are sick bastards. This is all wrong, it isn't supposed to be…

 

“Lee! Lee hang on, you're alright.” The words are swallowed up by a series of detonation notes igniting somewhere to the left, showering them with flaming debris and dripping fleshy bits that may or may not have been alive five seconds earlier. Kankuro tries to speak, scream, whisper, anything, but his voice tears in his throat and he chokes on smoke and dirt and blood.

 

Three days.

The battle has been raging for three days. Three days of one blur of blood and fire and unforgiving sun, three days of the guy next to him being there one second and pink mist the next, of iron and explosions and constant warn down adrenaline. He is somewhere beyond exhaustion, beyond terror, beyond conscious thought.

 

Bandaged blood-soaked hands tighten painfully on his arms and the body beneath his spasms; red blossoming on skin painting lips and running choking dripping. Hot and sticky spattered across his face, in his mouth, in his eyes.

Who's blood this?

Not his blood…

Not his blood! “It's okay…it's okay…you're okay just hang on…just, please. Just, just look at me, just stay, please… look at me. Stay with me here, I'm not letting you die. You can't fucking die!” He doesn't recognize his own voice, and the words come up like gravel and shards of glass. But he keeps talking, trying to anchor, he's not sure which one of them his words are for.

 

Crushed ribs is just the start of it. Half Lees blood is spilling out, running through the Suna-nins fingers, can't keep the crimson in, turning the dirt to redish mud-paint. He's half drowning in the rest of it.

And Kankuro knows it's all pain, but the boys muscles tense, and his breath hitches and he's making low sounds like…oh god…

Focus!

 

He doesn't start when Lee pulls him down, bodies almost flush together. He doesn't wince away from the feeling of more blood soaking into his clothes.

But the others breath against his cheek and ear send shivers down his spine.

With shaking hands Lee presses two scrolls against his chest.

“T-take these….Hokage-sama and Kazekage-sama…need these. T-t-take nng!”

“But you-“

“Not important! These…they need…please. Go.”

“No!” he is shoved away, the scrolls probably leaving bruises beneath his shirt.

“Go!” he hesitates, a second, two, another burst of shrapnel rends the air less than three feet away. He nods, and fumbles up the scrolls.

But he can't…how can he..?

He takes Lees hands in both of his, and rests their foreheads together.

“Don't you fucking die”

And then he is gone. Off low across the battlefield at a stumbling crawling sprint. Swallowing dry heaves.

Blood loss, the boys skin had already been going cold under his.

The gods are sick bastards.