Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Regret Not A Thing ❯ Ch. 22: A Small Price ( Chapter 22 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Regret Not A Thing

By Mizerable

Ch. 22: A Small Price

Kakashi stood before the memorial stone, such an achingly familiar sight. It never lost anything, never gave anything back, only gained. It took and took and—

“I suppose we should get going.”

He looked to Pakkun, who sat obediently at his feet.

“Even though the Hokage forbade you from leaving?”

Those who abandon their friends are less than trash…

“Not all orders are meant to be followed.”

* * *

Sakura's fist grazed the side of Sasori's tail in a shower of sparks.

While it did keep her from being impaled, said tail connected bluntly with her stomach and sent her careening into the stone wall. Her feet planted firmly, her body coiled, before she pushed off and landed smoothly next to Kankurou. He, meanwhile, used Sasori's momentary preoccupation with Sakura to send in Karasu. The puppet flew in strong, weapons at the ready. It managed to shred Sasori's cloak but not much else.

“Those tricks won't work on me,” Sasori spoke blandly as ribbons of fabric settled around him.

“I know,” Kankurou answered grimly, “I just wanted to get a better look at what I'm fighting.”

The red “mask” of Hiruko gleamed eerily in the darkness.

“Well, if that's the case…” Sasori tore the piece of cloth hanging in front of his “mouth.” It dropped open and a shower of needles followed.

Kankurou and Sakura expertly deflected the onslaught, all the while charging in closer to their target.

“Impressive,” Sasori remarked, “But I'm hardly through with you yet.”

He fired Hiruko's “arm” and another barrage of metal rained down upon them. Yet not a single weapon made its mark.

A puppet user, perhaps. But the girl, too?

A lashed out with his tail, its poisoned tip aiming for Sakura. But then she froze and the tail froze and she eyed the poison dripping not an inch away from her nose.

Impossible…so that's what you were doing, boy?

“Sakura, go!” Kankurou shouted.

The order wasn't necessary. Sakura was already rushing through the air, fist cocked, and chakra flowing strong. She bore down on Hiruko with a fierce scream, shattering the puppet into useless splinters. As her feet touched ground, a shadowy figure leapt away from the debris to the other side of the battlefield.

“I see now. You had the girl act as a puppet and had her dodge my attacks. I can't believe I missed you attach a chakra string to Hiruko's tail. Must have been while you attacked with Karasu…”

Sasori revealed his true face, surprisingly youthful with hair the color of fresh blood. Sakura and Kankurou had no visible reaction to the sight. They'd been expecting it, after all. Though Sasori only thought that perhaps these children were at least good enough to school their features from leaking any thoughts or emotions. If that were the case, and taking what Zetsu had announced before getting picked off into account, there was no sense in playing around here.

Sasori was rather impatient in nature, anyway.

“Since you were decent enough to destroy Hiruko, I'll at least let you see my finest puppet.”

He unraveled a scroll, the word “three” painted upon its paper. There was a puff of smoke and then his favorite, the Third Kazekage, was draped across his shoulders.

“So, shall we begin?” Sasori didn't think about how they did nothing but blink in response. There was no fear, no tenseness. They were ready for this.

* * *

Naruto raced a fair distance ahead of Hinata through the dark, winding corridors. The blackness wasn't a deterrent for her, not when she was implementing the Byakugan. She chose to say nothing as she watched red chakra pour from his body, his clawed fingers, his feral red eyes. He was losing his composure, his control, as his mind grew equally worried for Sasuke and now Sakura.

“Naruto-kun,” she called out softly.

“Are we close?” he growled back.

They were. From here she could see the dungeons, see two people drag someone from a cell. She didn't know to feel relieved or alarmed that it wasn't Sasuke. A girl, probably not much older than them, fought her captors with teeth and nails like a cornered animal.

She must be one of…she's like Naruto-kun.

“Yes,” she admitted, “We're close.”

* * *

Sasori, never a man to waste time, sent the Third charging forward towards his opponents. All the studying in the world mattered little against actual speed like that. Kankurou used his chakra strings to yank Sakura out of harm's way.

She was flying, weightless, and ultimately defenseless in this state. Because there was a delayed response between Kankurou's reflexes, because the Third was bearing down on her with an arm loaded with gleaming blades and gleaming poison. She tugged at the restraints of the chakra strings to shield herself with her arms. But there was no sting of a knife; only a gust of wind against her face from the impact of weapons connecting with Hiruko's discarded tail. Sakura was torn away from the mess, debris following in her wake.

“Shit,” she heard Kankurou muttered, “I didn't expect it to shatter the tail…”

“Not bad,” Sasori was bland as ever, blank as ever, “Try this.”

His fingers danced and the Third's other arm folded back into a series of flaps, painted in the old ways with seals. The one arm turned into a thousand swarming hands reaching for them. Sakura was sailing back, back, back from the incoming barrage. The arms crashed against the stone floor as a sea to its shore. The dust settled and Sakura was found lying on the ground, body oddly contorted within the odd sort of bamboo forest. Her heart raced, honestly amazed she survived relatively unscathed.

Sasori frowned mildly at the scene.

As long as that kid's controlling the girl, I'll see no end to this.

“In that case…”

Kankurou carefully maneuvered Sakura from the pile of arms, gently floating her away. It caught them both by surprise when one of the hands erupted with a plume of smoke.

Fuck!

“Sakura, hold your breath!”

“Poison—!” she shouted before the fog enveloped her.

Kankurou hurried to pull her to safety. But the cloud blocked his vision; he couldn't see the rope-bound kunai wrap around her body.

Don't inhale.

She chanted the mantra over and over again in her mind. Despite the burn in her eyes, the burn in her lungs.

“She won't last long in there,” Sasori mused, earning a snarl from Kankurou as he desperately tried to tug her back.

The poison had but one good point. It shielded Sakura from watching eyes. No one could see her struggle to reach inside her pouch. The rope was so tight, digging viciously into her skin. But it mattered not to her.

I can't die here.

Her fingers close around her sought object.

Iwill not die here.

The explosion rocked the cavern. As the smoke cleared, Sakura was thrown back and her body forcibly collided with Kankurou.

“Sakura…” he murmured, both awed and worried by her actions. He'd heard of her strength, sure enough, but the only fight he'd ever seen of hers was the Chuunin Exam all those years ago. Ninjas grew as fighters as they got older, naturally, or they'd be dead. But to think that she became such a powerhouse…

She struggled slowly, ever so slowly, to regain her bearings and swayed on her feet. There was blood on her face and she had diamonds for eyes, hardened to a fine point and ready for the kill.

“She set off an explosion tag to dissipate the poison. Impressive,” Sasori didn't sound very impressed. Moreover, he seemed rather annoyed.

“I will defeat you!” she shouted, “Even if you break all my bones and paralyze me with poison, I will stop you! You'll never catch Naruto and you'll never kill Sasuke-kun!!”

“Is that so? Perhaps I should show you why this is my favorite puppet.”

The Third's mouth opened and iron sand floated through the air like liquid. Sakura and Kankurou eyed it warily, bodies tense and ready to spring. This, they know, wouldn't be so unlike dealing with Gaara's style of fighting. They grew fearful of their knowledge.

“Satetsu Shigure.”

It rained down upon them like bullets, spraying an area too large to evade by normal means. Sakura wasn't sure what happened at first when she found herself sprawled some distance away. A heartbeat passed before she realized Karasu was wrapped around her body. She glanced back to see Kankurou safely concealed behind Salamander's shield.

“Ah yes,” Sasori had an air of nostalgia about him as he looked at the puppet, “That one was designed especially for defense. Too bad it's useless now.”

Kankurou muttered a string of curses as he watched the iron sand lock his puppet's joints into place and rendered it immobile.

“One puppet can't defend two people. What will you do now?”

Sakura strode before Kankurou, her eyes glued to Sasori's every move.

“Use me.”

“Sakura—”

“We may need Karasu again. I know I don't have all the impressive weaponry of a puppet,” the faintest of smiles crept up upon her, “But my shisou's distaste for losing, I've got plenty of.”

The words came out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. Remembering Tsunade at a time like this, in a place like this, left a terrible ache in her chest.

Tsunade-shishou…

“I still say you're crazy…” he grumbled as he attached his chakra strings to her.

Sasori hadn't been wasting his time as they discussed their plan. He was reworking the sand into a large mass, preparing his next attack.

“Satetsu Kaihou.”

The sand spread out like tree branches, filling the small space rapidly. Kankurou hurried to maneuver her through the growing, changing maze to get her closer to Sasori. But then the attack struck with full force, shaking the cavern and everything was lost to a fog of debris. Kankurou blinked slowly, head swimming with his arm pinned beneath a pile of rocks, and tried to assess what just happened. In the chaos, he'd had no way of controlling Sakura safely.

“Sakura!”

She stood in the middle of the disaster, dazed and bleeding, gripping her wounded arm.

She's wounded! And this guy had to have put poison in the sand—

She seemed to fall slowly, oh so slowly. Her knees bottomed out and she collapsed into a boneless mess on the ground.

“Ah, the poison's already started to take effect. It leaves you numb and completely immobile,” Sasori explained glibly, “If I left you alone, you'd have three days left to live…But I have no intention of doing that.”

The Third sailed forward, blade at the ready. Kankurou tried in vain to free himself from the rocks but there would never be enough time to get Sakura to safety.

Fortunately, he would not need to do such things. Sakura bolted up and drove her fist through the Third, shattering it beyond repair and recognition. The sand gave out on itself and fluttered away uselessly as Sakura jumped over to Kankurou. She said nothing as she tossed the constraining rocks away with ease.

“Sakura—You—”

“I'm crazy. I know,” she looked tired, but pleased.

“Remember, we've only got three minutes,” she added as she began to heal his arm.

Three minutes before the antidote wore off.

Sasori watched the scene silently, irritable and confused.

She was definitely poisoned. How is she able to move around? Is it because this brat's a medic…? Don't tell me…She stopped the poison! She couldn't have! Even if she had anti-venom with her, the chances of it working on my particular poison—No, she had the right antidote. These punks were told everything.

“I haven't been given such a good fight since I joined the Akatsuki. How long has it been now?” Sasori shrugged out of his robe and revealed his true self, made of metal and wood and all assortment of things unhuman, “It really has been a good while…Since I last used `myself' in battle.”

The pair weren't given time to study his unnatural form once Sasori poured unrelenting flames from the “palms” of his hands. They found themselves crouched behind rocks to avoid the terrible blaze.

“Even if you have medical skills, you'll run out of chakra eventually. How will you beat me then?”

Sakura bit her lip, growing frustrated and anxious.

Closing in on two minutes left…

The fire abruptly stopped as the scroll stored in Sasori's “spine” disappeared, spent. But there was no pause in his attack. He dove forward, a terrible cable-bound blade serving as his true tail at the helm. Sakura realized its edge was intended for her mere moments before it struck. Even diving to the side, she could not avoid it nicking her side nor the spray of blood that followed.

The pointed “tail” struck deeply into the rock, its velocity too fierce to alter its course. But it did not stop Sasori in his pursuit as he soared towards Kankurou. A series of swords rising from his back in a grotesque imitation of wings.

An angel of death, if you will.

Kankurou-san…!

Sakura pressed her hand to her vicious wound as she jumped into action. The image of Kankurou's siblings burned brightly in her mind: the indomitable Sand Trio. The task of keeping them together now rested on her shoulders.

Sasori felt his body give a sudden jerk. A look of surprise overcame his wooden face as he saw the cable wound around his midsection grow taut. Mere moments later he realized Sakura was hauling him as if he were a particularly stubborn fish. He paid it no mind as his blades spun now as wild saws, already savoring the victory. That was, until the cable reached the end of its reel before his weapons could reach Kankurou.

“Shannaro!”

She yanked with all her might with one hand, her other a fist ready to strike. His doll-body barreled towards her waiting punch and she held nothing back. The puppet that was Sasori broke apart at its joints, raining parts through the cavern as if he were a broken toy.

“Hah…We did it, Kankurou-san. We really beat him!”

“Sakura—You—”

He was going to say she did most of the work. But instead his eyes grew terribly wide.

“Sakura!”

Even though she ordered her body to turn quick, her limbs seemed to move so slowly. She faced Sasori, reassembled and whole, as he drove a sword through her stomach. Kankurou could only stand in mute shock as he stared at the blade protruding from her back. At the blood pooling at her feet.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Only now did the reality of the task they had taken on truly sunk in. All the planning in the world couldn't change the fact that this was the Akatsuki they were facing. Somehow it just hadn't seemed real until this moment.

Sakura hissed as she raised her hand to heal the wound.

“Trying to heal yourself with the sword still through you…You're just wasting chakra. This blade is poisoned, too.”

He casually moved to withdraw his weapon, but Sakura held on fiercely.

“I won't let go,” she snarled, feeling her body start to go numb. The antidote had worn off…

“You foolish girl,” Sasori muttered. This was taking far too long.

“Who's the fool here?” Kankurou jabbed the needle into Sakura's thigh and injected her with the final dose of the antidote.

“So that was it…” Sasori realized now how they'd been able to fight off his poison. Or rather, his hypothesis had been correct.

He detached his arm at its elbow joint, revealing yet another sword. He charged forward with full intention of finishing off Kankurou when something slammed into his back. A liquid not so different than blood, save for its color, splattered across the stone floor.

“It was the least I could do, since Sakura was tough enough to buy me some time,” Kankurou commented.

Sasori stared down at the tip of the blade that had pierced his “heart.” He couldn't see Karasu's arm that held it. His eyes drifted to the ground, the sweeping script of a sealing pattern looking back. His vision traveled to Salamander, which lay forgotten in the corner, fresh ink dripping from its mouth.

“Even if you made yourself a puppet, some part of you had to be human to still produce chakra,” Kankurou patted his hand over his own chest, his own heart. As soon as the words left his mouth, Sakura dragged the sword from her body before crumpling to the ground in a graceless mess. Kankurou kept a watchful eye on Sasori as he knelt by her side, her hands tightly pressed against the gushing wound as she worked to close it.

“A cure,” Sasori suddenly spoke, laughing almost, “So you really do know everything.”

Sakura glared harshly from where she lay.

“Did you think we came here unprepared?”

“It would seem that punk of an Uchiha couldn't keep his mouth shut.”

“If you hurt Sasuke-kun…” Sakura forced her trembling body to kneel, Kankurou quick to steady her.

“Sasuke…” Sasori seemed to contemplate where he knew that name, “Oh, him? Since you did manage to beat me, I'll let you in on a little secret. Who do you think told Uchiha Sasuke all that information?”

Sakura's shoulders spasmed as if she'd been doused with cold water and nearly lost control over her healing jutsu. All this time, she assumed Sasuke spent the past year on a recon mission of sorts to study the Akatsuki. Despite being sick and crippled and—

“Maybe Orochimaru sold you out,” the words felt uncertain and heavy on her tongue.

“Ha!” the odd purplish liquid that served as his blood trickled down his chin, “I used to partner with that guy. He was too weak to have ever known how to beat any of us.”

Kankurou noticed Sasori seemed to grow tired, like a wind-up doll whose key barely turned. There wasn't much time left.

“Then how…?” Kankurou didn't finish the question out loud. He was already putting things together in his mind and wasn't sure he was going to like the answer.

“Traitor to the bone, that Itachi. Looks like he planned this all from the beginning…”

“Uchiha Itachi,” Sakura's voice sounded impossibly small, “He helped Sasuke-kun?”

Sasori spoke no more. He was already gone.

Sakura slowly rose on shaky limbs, ignoring Kankurou's offer of assistance. She stumbled forward a few steps, hand still on her stab wound. She healed it enough to close it, but she was quite far from recovered. It she were of a mind to think about it, she would know it would likely take weeks to fully heal from such an injury. But such a thing didn't matter right now. Only Sasuke mattered.

Oh, Sasuke-kun! What really happened between you and your brother?

“We have to catch up to Naruto and Hinata,” Sakura declared, appearing utterly disassociated with the current situation, her current state.

“Are you sure—I mean, yeah, we should find them. But are you able?” Kankurou fished for words as he watched her dazedly shuffle forward like a calf just learning of its legs, “God, Sakura, don't you need more time?”

He recalled a day from four years ago, when it had been a different Konoha ninja with a knife wound to the gut.

* * *

The body in his arms felt impossibly heavy as he raced back to Konoha, the makeshift bandages he'd used doing nothing to stem the bleeding. Perhaps it was his clothing now weighed down with blood that wasn't his. Kiba kept trying to speak, as if he didn't realize he needed to save every last bit of strength. Kankurou kept urging Kiba to shut up. He didn't know the guy, not really, and he didn't want to get to know him. Not now, in a moment like this. Keeping his distance made the trek easier.

“Tell Hinata…For me, tell her…” he coughed heavily, blood spilling from his mouth.

“Just keep quiet!” the entrance to the hospital was in sight.

“Please tell her! That I—” his eyes cracked open briefly as they passed through the door into a world of whiteness and light, and the words he wanted to say were replaced with others, “Tell Hinata to look after Akamaru for me?”

Kiba was put on a stretcher and wheeled away.

“It's your dog, you look after it!” a pause, “Just tell her yourself!”

* * *

Don't make me watch another one of you die.

“We don't have time,” she snapped before popping a soldier pill. It drew a grimace across her face, as even the smallest of motions pulled at the wound. The skin was raw and puckered and she would spare no more chakra for it. She had a far more important person to heal. It didn't matter what the Akatsuki did to her. They'd already managed to stab her, burn her, poison her. But if she could keep Naruto safe, if she could keep Sasuke alive…Yes.

It was a small price to pay, as far as she was concerned.

A very small price.

* * *

There was no proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Just Hinata's gentle hand against his arm, forcing Naruto to pause before turning that last bend. She murmured all was clear before they ventured on. It was a fair touch lighter here, though, with scant torches hanging from the wall. It made it easier to see the ofuda placed around the cell's door.

“Well?” Naruto huffed, nervous and angry and afraid and a dozen other unnamable feelings.

“He-he's inside,” she worried at her bottom lip, terrified by what she could see. But they couldn't be too late, not after all it took to get here.

“I can smell blood,” Naruto's voice came out soft and perhaps far too grave for Hinata's liking, “Someone else's. Like a wild animal's almost…”

He didn't add that it reminded him of Gaara, that he intrinsically knew a jinchuuriki had been here. Hinata chose not to fill in the gaps. Naruto knew well enough about the bigger picture; he didn't need to hear about what she saw. About that poor young woman.

“Stand back,” Naruto rapidly switched gears, “I'm gonna blow the fuckin' door down.”

“No,” a rapid shake of the head, hair spilling like ink over her face, “It will attract too much attention. If you can get rid of those chakra binders—” she gestures to the ofuda, “I can open the door.”

“Wha—okay.”

Hinata forced her hands to still themselves while the Kyuubi's violent red chakra burned the seals off the wall. That power terrified her. Not to say that she was afraid of Naruto; far from it. Rather she feared for him. So focused was she in concentrating on the door (in ignoring that horrid, demonic presence pouring from a perfectly human boy), she took no notice of Naruto crouching down beside her. He watched in rapt fascination as she worked pins in the lock.

“I didn't know you could do that,” he sounded impressed, as much as he could given the stress of the situation.

“M-my Byakugan lets me see inside the lock,” her cheeks flushed in the dim light from his voice, his closeness, “And I am a kunoichi…”

“I'm sorry.”

Naruto-kun, you're going to break my heart.

“Please don't apologize—”

“No! I mean…Four years is a long time to waste not getting to know you better. So—”

Click.

“I got it,” she rose fast to push the door open, her heart a fluttering hummingbird.

Will it break or burst from being too full…?

Despite it being dark inside, so very dark, they could still make out a shadowed figure lying far too still on the ground.

“Sasuke!” Naruto called, charging forward.

There was no movement, not so much as a twitch. Naruto knelt by his side, true and unfiltered terror finally registering in his brain. That tiny little part of his mind, despite it happening time and again, reminded him that sometimes things just do not work out. His hand, heated from Kyuubi's ever-present influence, reached for Sasuke's arm. So cold and clammy and seemingly not aliv—

“You are such an idiot!” Naruto shouted, “Always trying to do everything by yourself!”

Prayer beads fell loose from Sasuke's lax fingers and rolled aimlessly across the stone floor.

“I never even knew you prayed,” Naruto sniffled, again feeling like too much time was lost when he could have spent it better understanding his friend.

Hinata stood removed from the scene, feeling ever the intruder. She couldn't bring herself to tell Naruto the beads belonged to someone else. A girl far too similar to him.

“Naruto-kun?” her small voice sounded too loud in this place, “I should start the ritual—”

“We're too late,” Naruto muttered; she could see the tears streaking his face, “He—he's not breathing.”

Something about that look on his face honestly made her believe she felt something inside herself break.

“I have to start the ritual now,” she spoke more firmly, a sheet of steel seeming to fall around her words. It startled Naruto enough to make him give her the space she needed. Hinata wasted no time gathering her supplies from her medical bag as she knelt by Sasuke, before tying her hair back. Naruto's eyes were pinpoints as Hinata pulled out a kunai.

“Keep an eye out for the enemy. I can't be interrupted once I start,” she ordered before cutting Sasuke's shirt open. She paid no heed to the paper skin pulled over pointed ribs. She knew to expect this by now. Her main concern was the ugly bruise on his chest, over his heart. She looked deeper, beneath the skin, at the partially collapsed chakra coils wrapped around his heart.

This was precisely what she feared would happen.

And it was hard. Hard for her to keep her clinical composure when the body she was working on belonged to someone she swore she would save. For Kiba's sake, so that his death would not be wasted. For Naruto, for many a reason obvious.

And for herself, because she did not go back on her word.

If I do anything, it could kill him. If I do nothing, this will kill him.

Hinata allowed her hand to glow with chakra, almost static in its form. Naruto, who was caught somewhere between lashing out at something and vomiting, forced himself to focus on it. It reminded him vaguely of something he'd seen Tsunade do years ago, when she fought Kabuto. But seeing Hinata like this, so absorbed and cold in her work, made her seem like a stranger.

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

Hinata took that moment to press her hand to Sasuke's chest. The contact sent a jolt through his body before it collapsed limply to the ground.

”Again,” Hinata murmured to herself.

Shock, arch, collapse.

“Sasuke-kun, please pull through this.”

Shock, arch, collapse.

“We came all this way just to save you,” she pleaded, “Don't quit now!”

Shock, arch, collapse.

Naruto turned brusquely to stand in the doorway, his back turned to the scene, as his claws left gouges in his palms. He couldn't do this. He could not do this! How could he just be standing here while his best friend, his brother, died! Never in all his life had he felt so helpless. At least when Sasuke left all those years ago, he could always cling to that sliver of hope that he would come home someday. But this…This final, dreadful stretch of time and Naruto could do nothing.

The sound of another jolt, Sasuke's body hitting the earth, made his shoulders jerk. So consumed with his rage and grief, he was tempted to yell for Hinata to stop. He was being a coward, he knew that. Suddenly all of Sakura's fears spoken in the Nagano Shrine rang in his ears. And now he had to face the truth. That he was late, too late, and that he would truly be unable to keep his promise of a lifetime.

He didn't expect to hear a thick, wet cough follow. He spun quick enough to almost lose his bearing, and watched Sasuke. Blood dribbled down his chin, and his chest rose rapidly with rattling shallow breath, but…

But…

He was alive.

Hinata wiped sweat away from her brow with the sleeve of her coat before removing a scroll from her pack.

“I'm going to start. There's no time left to wait for Sakura-san.”

Naruto nodded dumbly, wondering desperately how Sakura was fairing. The other piece that was his precious puzzle known as Team 7.

Sakura-chan, please be okay. We need you.

And he strangely found himself missing Kakashi. The faintest of smiles touched his face, the small bit of relief knowing Sasuke still had some fight in him leaking into his features.

Bet Kakashi-sensei'll be pissed when he finds out what we did.

* * *

A brief, but never forgotten memory:

”Those who abandon their friends are less than trash.”

* * *

Hell, Kakashi would probably be proud.

“Naruto-kun?”

He couldn't guess what sort of expression Hinata was wearing with her back turned to him.

“I—There's an array of seals that have to be painted around him…”

Naruto was completely blindsided for a moment.

“I don't know the first thing about medicine,” came his knee-jerk reaction.

“But you trained with Jiraiya-sama. You know seals.”

Hearing his name was like have an old wound reopened. It didn't help Naruto try to explain how afraid he was. If he did something wrong here, it could cost Sasuke his life. Naruto liked to think he knew a thing or two about being a ninja, but it was only now he realized how out of his depth he really was. That momentary glimmer of hope he'd felt knowing Sasuke was still with them faded with each breath,

Tell Naruto to fight someone, he'd kick their ass.

But to partake in an elaborate healing ritual? A dead-last brawler like him?

For a moment, he believed his shoulders would buckle from the pressure.

“Naruto-kun,” Hinata could sense his overbearing anxiety. After all the loss and hardship set upon him, and despite the speech he'd given before they embarked on this mission, his confidence had been stretched too thin.

“We can't wait anymore. Sasuke-kun need us.”

“I know that!” he replied shortly, “But if I fuck this up—!”

“I need your help!” Hinata cried out, tears dripping from her chin as she finally looked at him, “I can't do this alone…I need you…So, please…”

Naruto was crouching behind her in a heartbeat, holding her close. He could feel chakra pulsing through her, passing from her hand to Sasuke's. She was doing everything she could to keep him alive, while Naruto had done nothing but feel sorry for himself. And he dared to call himself the next Hokage?

Since when did he give up just because things were hard?

He built his entire Nindo around overcoming everything that threatened to pull him down.

“I have no idea what I'd do without you,” he admitted.

His emotions always ran excessively high when it came to his team. Never did he think Hinata would be the one person in his life that truly kept him grounded. She reminded him of why he wanted to lead his village: to protect them. And fortunately, life had given him Hinata to also remind him that people truly did believe in him.

Before she could stutter a reply, Naruto was on his feet with an odd air of calm about him.

“Where's the ink?”

“It-it has to be blood,” she murmured.

“Figures,” Naruto commented as he slashed his hand open with a knife, “It's what gives us life.”

He didn't remember it, couldn't remember it. Not consciously. The feel of fresh blood on his belly from the man who gave his life to put it there.

The storm had passed. There was no more fear. No more doubt. He would try, possibly succeed, possibly not. But it was better than the nothing he almost chose. Doing nothing only meant he would definitely fail.

And he'd have none of that.

Sasuke would never forgive him otherwise.

Hinata probably wouldn't, either.

* * *

The other two squads finally converged within the cave.

“So far so good,” Shikamaru assessed, silently breathing a sigh of relief. He made sure to search out Ino, confirming she was no worse for the wear.

“Hey,” Temari greeted her brother, earning a quiet nod, before she moved closer to whisper, “Two steps closer.”

“Two steps,” he echoed faintly.

Two steps closer to being free of the wolves that hunted him.

Neji stood with the team of his youth, both of whom looked ragged around the edges.

“Lee,” Neji gave him a shrewd look.

“I sort of needed to open the gates,” a sheepish look.

“How many?”

“Umm…Six?”

Neji rolled his eyes, inwardly both concerned and exasperated. This guy was as hopeless as ever. No doubt Lee had to be exhausted by now.

Tenten, meanwhile, remained silent and proud. Not just for herself, but for her boys. It helped her forget the pain in her legs. But Neji didn't miss how stiff she held herself.

“Were you injured?” he spoke in low tones. He could check the damage himself, but that always seemed a touch too bold for his liking.

“Nothing serious,” she smiled, “Ino patched me up.”

Neji rather had the feeling she was just content to be out in the field as the kunoichi she always dreamed of being.

Tenten touched his shoulder, a seemingly friendly gesture.

“You?”

A snort. “I've had worse.”

She said nothing, despite what an understatement that was. Ironic his worse injuries occurred chasing down the same boy they were searching for now.

Gaara tensed suddenly, earning a series of glances.

A bug chose that time to land on Shino's fingertip.

“Someone's coming.”

The group looked around, bracing for the next enemy.

“There's two,” Neji whispered, “No…Three. They're carrying someone.”

The Zombie Twins appeared from the dark like specters, unconscious Yugito in tow.

“Shit, `was starting to wonder when we'd find you,” Hidan commented, a terrible grin splitting his face.

* * *

It surprised him to see the other man indulge in liquor.

“I didn't think you drank,” he commented dryly, suddenly feeling too young in this room.

“You know my thoughts on the dangers that lie in making assumptions.”

It took a moment before he realized the man was joking. And yet a moment more to realize a cup had been pushed before him.

“I'm not of age,” he states, frowning. Odd was it to be reminded of how few years he'd actually survived thus far. It felt like so many more than the truth.

“And which laws are you upholding? The ones society place upon you?” the man gestured with cup in hand, “Or your own moral code?”

There was another statement floating beneath those words. Ones that begged the question of if you can take a life, what holds you back from trying to keep living your own?

He remained quiet, all words spoken and unspoken swimming through his mind. Somehow he always pictured this first try to be different.

When he was but a young boy, he imagined his first drink to be shared with his father. They would celebrate his entrance into the police force, that first true step into the rest of his adult life. But time stretched on in those days, replaced the concept with the man before him. He'd follow this man's steps into the Anbu, that first true step towards greatness. Acknowledgement. What have you.

But then those both became impossible dreams.

Slowly, unbeknownst to him, another future shaped itself within his mind. One he would not dare ever admit, especially not to himself.

He is with his team, a full squad of jounin. There teacher sits by as a silent observer, perhaps remembering how he felt when he was in their shoes. Only now he had a happier memory to accompany it. The pride in his eye would be reflected in their cups.

The other boy would be a rather unsurprisingly loud drunk. He would probably start singing.

The girl would lean across the table to give a half-hearted slap, too pleased with the moment to care how loud he got. She would sink back in the booth and lean against him. He would probably say the booze went to his head when asked why he let her stay. Why his fingers toyed with her hair.

He would savor the fullness the replaced the gap in his heart.

But he remembers himself. Where he really is and what has really happened. He downs his drink quickly, before slowly setting his cup upon the table.

“Too bitter?”

No, it wasn't that. He'd long lost his ability to taste. But to feel it flow inside, through his gut that had far too long felt like coldly coiled snakes…

He eyed the man across him. This wasn't what he'd ever planned for, or imagined. But to be here, to still be alive, and to know the truth—

“It's warm.”

To be continued…