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Koiuta, V.2	By : dragonslover1 Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1338 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: 'Naruto' is owned by Masashi Kishimoto. I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

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Koiuta, Love Song V.2
　
A Night of Despair
　
　
With time, the team from Konoha turned out to be more sociable than Tasha had anticipated. Well, most of them were. Hinata was a kind of beacon of warmth, even offering comforting touches every so often. Kiba was louder, his humor always evident. Every so often he chatted at his dog, Akamaru; it was kind of charming. Thus far, Shino was the only one to fail to inspire any faith in her.
He was just so. . .silent. Unmoving despite his long-legged strides, rarely speaking up. When he did speak, it was in low tones and so surprising she usually missed the first few words. And he intimidated her a small degree, just enough to keep her from asking him to repeat himself. But then, she didn’t have to. After his first few sentences, he picked up on her unease and began working with it, making sure the attention was on him before saying anything.
It was surprisingly thoughtful, though being near him still rose little hairs all over her. It was a kind of awareness that had nothing to do with her training, something new. Something she didn’t like. It was offset by Hinata’s presence, too, the elder woman managing to keep Tasha calm no matter how her instincts reacted to the man on her other side.
Creeeeeeeepy.
Hinata kept idle chatter going for several hours as they trudged onwards, and though the group was clearly restless, she’d already told them about her injuries. They didn’t rush her, which she was grateful for. Her legs kept up a steady tremble now, given she hadn’t stopped to sleep since beginning her trek away from Sunagakure. They hadn’t rested at the border, either. She was tired and her wounds were growing sore.
At one point she had to stop, just stop, her legs protesting every move she made. She was tougher than this, damn it— on the other hand, she’d been on the brink of death a week prior. This might just be her limit.
The other three stopped when she did, and Hinata asked, “Do you need to rest?”
Feeling pathetic, Tasha nodded, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she began.
“Don’t apologize,” Shino told her. He shared a glance with Kiba, and though Kiba couldn’t have seen anything past his sunglasses and mask, the two split, disappearing in a second.
Tasha whipped her head left and right, trying to follow both men, before turning a confused gaze to Hinata.
“They’re making sure this area is secure,” Hinata explained, “and if not, finding a better place to stay.” Tasha was stunned by the news; a single glance between the men was enough to convey all that? And what’s more, Hinata had known without so much as looking after them?
. . .Was this how teams were supposed to function? Another wave of jealousy hit Tasha. She’d never so much as had a real friend, and in the last week she’d encountered two teams who seemed to read one another’s minds. She wanted to pout.
Within minutes, both males had returned. By then Tasha had descended to a kneel, incapable of rising. Kiba had found an old campsite, so it was the decided upon destination. Except that Tasha couldn’t get to her feet again. Every time she tried, the pain would spear her, and while she could muscle through the aches, she couldn’t muscle through the weakness. She couldn’t walk. Not yet, anyway; not until she’d rested.
Thus began a kind of argument. Tasha was determined to walk her way there, weakness be damned, while Kiba argued that she could just ride on Akamaru until they reached the site. And though Tasha nearly succeeded (that is to say, she managed a one-legged full stand), her victory was snatched from her when Shino made the decision for her. He swept her up in his arms, and for a moment she was shocked anew at his height. He must be impatient, she mused.
Then he sat her down on Akamaru and she had no choice but to hang on. The hound took off, darting through the vegetation, forcing Tasha to cling to his fur or be thrown off. Kiba led the way for the group, Tasha still flanked by the two others. Their path only slightly diverged from their destination, Tasha noted, pleased. At that thought, the dog eating up the distance in such easy strides, she wondered why she hadn’t just asked for this from the beginning.
Oh, right. Her pride. She didn’t want to owe anyone anything.
Once they arrived she waited for Akamaru to stop, then pushed herself off him. Her legs refused to hold her up, so again, she ended up on her knees. She made a noise of annoyance, a kind of grunt-growl. This time Hinata darted off, scouting the area as well. For a few minutes, Tasha was alone with the three males, each one keeping her in a state of unease for entirely different reasons. She was relieved when Hinata returned.
Again Hinata began chattering, and Tasha liked that. She appreciated the distraction. As she absently stroked her wounds, testing the sensitivity of each, she nodded and replied as needed. Several of the cuts were getting better, she noted, though a few hurt as much as ever.
As the night dragged on, darkness falling over the campsite, lethargy penetrated Tasha’s limbs, refusing to be shaken off. She reclined against a tree, having a steadily harder time staying awake. And as she struggled to remain conscious, her mind spiraled downwards again.
She was displaying weakness, after all. Such terrible weakness. In her own country, her team would have put her out of her misery for the good of the country itself, unwilling to tolerate such a pitiful ninja. But this team wasn’t like that, she reminded herself, and somehow that made it worse. Depression sagged her shoulders, keeping her gaze lowered.
Tasha, the worthless kunoichi; that’s what she was. Once more her thoughts turned to questions, such as why she hadn’t just let herself die. So many people she liked were now in danger, all because she wanted to live. What right did she have to that selflessness? They were sacrificing for her, and she could give nothing in return. Except, perhaps, a promise, and what good would a promise truly be?
“Tasha.”
She glanced up, catching Hinata’s concerned gaze. She tried to offer a smile in consolation, but all she managed was a grimace.
“What’s wrong?” Hinata asked. Demanded, really. There was a kind of order to that tone.
Everything in Tasha rebelled against the idea of answering that question. It would only reveal further weakness, her low self-esteem at present, her. . .uselessness. But the words found their way out anyway. “I feel like shit,” she said, a little surprised that the curse had escaped. She didn’t normally do that. “Not my wounds, mind you, but the fact that I. . .I can’t even take care of myself right now.” There, the horrible shame she carried, laid bare.
She looked down again.
There was a soft sigh, and then Hinata replied, “That’s not your fault. You were attacked, and it shows your strength that you not only survived, but crossed through two countries to survive.”
“Not on my own,” she countered. “I would have died after the first day if I hadn’t been found.” By Suzaki. A slight, pained smile took her lips. Her twin from another country.
“But you still fought to live,” Hinata pointed out.
Tasha looked up then, her despair worsening. “No, I didn’t,” she argued. “I’ve just been riding on the good graces of those around me— yourself included,” she threw at the girl. “And I have no right to do so.”
“Those good graces aren’t yours to decide,” Hinata snapped back, a hint of anger shoving its way through. “This is a decision each and every one of us has made for your benefit, and it’s not going to stop just because you want it to.”
No, perhaps not, Tasha thought as she leaned back against her tree again. She wondered at the silence of Kiba and Shino, but was ultimately glad they hadn’t spoken up. She was having a hard enough time arguing with Hinata alone. She replied, “That’s the entire problem. I didn’t ask for help. Now everywhere I look, concessions are being made for me, I don’t deserve that kind of— ”
“Yes, you do,” Hinata interrupted.
Tasha scowled. “Do you know what worries me most?” she queried. Without waiting for a response, she swept on, “That someone, somewhere, is going to be killed because of me. Because I was too stubborn to just die and prevent all this. Might be you,” she said to Hinata, “might be Suzaki or Masumata, might be the Kazekage. . .might even be the rest of my clan in one fell swoop.”
That was a whole new fear, snapping her back to a frigid reality. Her Kage— no, not hers anymore— the Tsuchikage could very well decide that without the jewel, her clan was worthless. He could kill them all just to rid their weakness from his domain. Though Tasha had never held too much of a bond with her clan, with her family, she didn’t want their deaths. Not on her behalf. Her newborn, squalling cousin would be among the deaths if such an act occurred.
There was a lengthy pause before Kiba spoke up. “Do you really think your clan would pay for your disappearance?”
She didn’t know, not for certain. “Maybe,” she allowed. “The only important part of us was ever the jewel, and I took that with me. If the Tsuchikage decides he won’t be getting it back, he could order my clan wiped out from spite alone.” She shrugged. “Or maybe he’ll hold them hostage to force my return.”
Another pause, and then Hinata was trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t think he would do all that over a single deserter.”
Ice settled in Tasha’s veins. “Deserter,” she echoed with a choke. “Is that all I am now? A deserter?” A missing nin, nothing more? A defector, a traitor? Pain twisted her features.
Hinata looked chagrined. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she tried.
“Forget it,” Tasha grumbled, trying to ignore the whole new pains threading through her like so many emotional stitches. She twisted around and laid down, gracing the team with her back. Cowardly of her? Unfair? Yes. Did she care? . . .Not much. “I’m going to sleep,” she declared, “wake me in a few hours and I’ll be good to go.”
No one moved, no one spoke. As riled and taut as her emotions were, it couldn’t compete with the heavy weight of exhaustion permeating her limbs. Almost as soon as she shut her eyes, darkness descended, her weary body all too happy to rest. She fully expected nightmares to plague her, though.
For a little while, they did. Left and right she was being rejected by everyone she’d so much as met, preventing her from truly resting. She was shunned, laughed at, ridiculed. Hands kept grasping at her jewel, her only true point of worth in the world. Though she tried to fight, it was ripped from her face, her body spiraling towards death.
Lucky for her, the nightmares didn’t last too long. Soon a heat enveloped her, calming the nightmares. Her dreams quieted, becoming almost pleasant. At the very least, they were tolerable now, pursuing questions like what will her future be like now? The dreams pondered that question, coming up with various answers which, luckily, were not too depressing. One of them involved going back to Sunagakure, finding Suzaki and being like a sister to her.
She liked that dream most.
Sometime later she woke, awareness unfolding from around her. She was curled up in a ball, she noted, some kind of cloth wrapped around her. A blanket? She heard birds chirping, insects buzzing, a strange crunching. Her body still ached, but this time it was from stiffness. How long had she slept? She stretched out, leaves scratching at the few uncovered parts of her, both knees popping as she straightened.
Her eyes blinked open, her senses snapping awake that fast (three cheers for ninja training). The first thing she noted? Her escorts were gone and someone else sat in direct sight, propped against a tree and eating an apple, the fruit already halfway devoured. Her stomach cleaved to her spine at the sight, then the smell, but first she tried to figure out who that was.
Thick, spiky black hair jutted out from around a forehead protector, black clothes on a long, lithe body, a sleeveless vest leaving the male’s arms bare to his gloves, circular scars lining the visible skin. Two fingers held down a high collar clearly meant to cover half his face, sunglasses perched on his nose—
Not a stranger, she realized, but Shino. This entire revelation took a mere handful of seconds, during which he glanced her way, as aware of her presence as she was of his. He looked way different without the coat, she realized, but she pushed that from her mind. Instead, she pushed herself up on an elbow, saying, “Shino?”
Just had to be sure.
He nodded.
“So that’s what your nose looks like,” she mused, indirectly pointing out that she hadn’t recognized him right away.
A noise— almost a chuckle, not quite— came from him. “Sleep well?” he asked.
With a nod, she rose to a sit, the action dropping that cloth below her eyes. Startled, she made to push it up and found a white sleeve hanging off her hand. The dots connected. Shino didn’t have his coat because she was wearing it. A strange mixture of gratitude, disbelief and curiosity went through her.
Somewhat absently, shocked that he would have done such a thing, she shed the coat, peering at him. She almost couldn’t comprehend this measure of kindness. It wouldn’t have happened with her own team, she knew; they would have let her freeze. Her own fault, they’d say, for not being prepared for the weather of the night.
Offering him the coat, she asked, “Weren’t you cold?”
He took it, the two of them close enough to make the exchange without reaching. Instead of putting it on, though, he draped it across his lap. “No,” was his simple reply.
Strange. She figured he needed that coat, hence the reason he wore it. Here in the forest, it was kind of warm, leading her to think that he was easily chilled. It was logical to her. She eyed him once more, looking for any shivers. Seeing none, she couldn’t help herself. “Was I wearing that all night?” she began.
A nod.
Not much for conversation, she noted dryly. “And you seriously weren’t cold at all?”
“Not at all,” he agreed.
Hardly believing him, she edged a bit closer to press the back of her hand against his arm. She met warm flesh, not a hint of a chill. Confused, she dropped her hand. In retrospect, that was stupid; she’d invaded his personal space to satisfy her curiosity and he couldn’t possibly appreciate it.
“Sorry,” she told him, “but. . .I’m so confused. How weren’t you the least bit cold?” She didn’t mean to sound demanding, but damn it, she’d been shivering as she’d drifted off. How was it that he hadn’t been?
He’d gone still, she noted, causing a new wave of shame to spiral through her. His apple remained in his hand, hovering near his mouth, his head halfway turned towards her. She could guess that he was eying her with distaste; she would be, were she in his place.
More silence drifted between them, until she sighed. “Nevermind,” she conceded. “I don’t have any right to ask, do I?”
To her surprise, he answered, “I was debating whether or not to tell you.”
Say again? She eyed him once more, letting him see her intrigue. “Is it something I’d regret knowing?”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “Not many people like to know.” That sounded just a bit regretful, she noted, an admittance he clearly didn’t like.
She wondered if he had some ability, some bloodline-related thing at the heart of. . .well, his warmth. Something few accepted, from the sounds of it. Well, she reasoned, he’d given her cause to trust him, so she would return the favor by accepting whatever it was.
“Tell me,” she pressed. “It can’t be that bad,” she reasoned, “if it keeps you from getting frostbite.” Okay, so that was a terrible joke. She admitted it. But if it would help convince him the slightest bit, she’d make a thousand more.
Well, no, that was an exaggeration. She’d make like six more before giving up.
He was silent for several more moments, debating, she guessed. His only move was when he pushed back against the tree more fully, then extended his arm towards her. Confused, she looked at the appendage, expecting— she didn’t know what. For his skin to redden with heat or something, she supposed.
The tiny scars she’d noted from before began to ease open from the inside, her eyes widening at the sight. What in the world—
Tiny black bugs began crawling out.
What. The hell.
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Koiuta, V.2