Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Please support the official release.

This is my first fanfic. Have mercy D=

Cuts and bruises covered her skin where the torn remnants of her tattered clothing did not. Blood dripped a rhythmic pitter-patter of mini rubies from her forehead where her headband protector had been near cleaved in two. She could taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth mix with the salty sweetness of the tears, which were slowly slipping from her eyes to the corners of her mouth. Her entire being was stained with the blood and grime of the previous fight, and a near palpable aura of despair seemed to emanate from her very soul. Her breast rose and fell in an almost exaggerated motion as she tried to breath, greedily sucking in air through long, ragged gasps. Walled in by the silence of her surroundings, the bubbling sound of her lungs slowly filling blood seemed loud enough to echo. Each breath was a rough, wet struggle. Though utterly defeated, every gurgling wheeze was proof that she was still alive.

The dark green trees of the forest set sinister shadows looming in all directions. The sun shown throw small breaks in the branches, allowing small curtains of light to contrast the dark like fiery pillars. Hinata could tell by the angle of the rays that the sun would be setting within the span of a few hours. She would need to move. She would need to find shelter. She would need to hide, lest any chance of survival be thrown to the wind.

Sprawled on the ground as she was, Hinata imagined herself to look like a discarded rag doll, tossed over some child's shoulder to land in a grotesque contortion of exactly how a body should not bend. Exerting as much energy as she was able, she slowly managed to force herself up into a sitting position, leaning her back against a conveniently close tree for support. 'Great, now if I could just…' Slowly, she made the attempt to stand. Bracing herself on her left leg, she began to rise, only to be greeted by a jagged sharp pain rising from her shin. Her left shin had been snapped in half, a jagged edge from her fibula jutting through her skin, her tibia still sitting loosely within the meat of her leg. She stifled a sharp cry of pain, not for pride or embarrassment, but because she simply had not the breath to do so. Moving did not seem like an option.

The sun was slowly setting into the horizon like a doomed vessel sinking at sea. With the setting sun sank Hinata's hopes for survival. The bleeding had slowed, but she hadn't much blood left to shed. Her body was loosing heat, and the temperature of the air had lowered as the moon crept it's way into the sky. The silver beams of the moon broke through the trees and reflected in her clouding eyes as she tilted her head up to the sky to let out a voiceless cry of despair. It wasn't the pain of her leg or the many cuts that brought upon her anguish. It wasn't her pitiful helplessness or the destruction of her pride that inspired her misery. The source of her wretchedness was brought upon by her failure as a woman, her frustration in knowing that she would never be able to voice her love. Worse than the pain was comprehending that she had every opportunity to confess her feelings; it would have been less awful to have made the attempt at sharing her love and failing than to never know, and to never again have the chance. The most extreme irony, was that on this particular mission, Hinata was paired with the object of her unrequited affection. She was suddenly struck with a horrid sense of situational awareness. Hinata knew the mission has a very low chance of success, and held an even lower chance of personal survival. Hinata knew it very well could have been her last chance to profess her love. Hinata knew, yet chose to feign ignorance, and let her fear of rejection and failure control her actions, and that wounded her more than any weapon ever could. Hinata would die where she lay, and she would die alone.

It seemed that hours had passed, but the moon indicated not more than one. For Hinata, time was an infinitely drawn out trip traveled at a snails pace. Her body was her prison, and the forest was her world. She had no tears left to cry, and no energy left to scream and voice her dejection. The sound of rustling leaves and crunching twigs sounded from a few yards away, and was accompanied by labored breathing and grunts of obvious pain. 'A wild animal or an enemy... Either way, I'll finally die.' Accepting of her fate, Hinata willed her head to turn towards the noise. What she saw wasn't the scowling face of a hostile ninja, nor was it the hungry maw of a forest beast. His hair was matted and filthy, and the in the light of the moon, glowed a pale yellow. Blotches of red, blood most likely to be his own, were spattered about his torn orange jumpsuit. His right arm was mangled and hung at his side as a splintered bloody mess. The left shoulder was pressed against a tree, as though it was the only thing keeping him on his feet. His previously downcast head rose, and his sapphire eyes burned like miniature azure stars. His pearly white teeth shown from behind a wide grin. "Hinata, thank God" he exhaled.

It took a moment for the realization to sink in. Naruto, her partner, the object of her affection, her dream, stood before her. As though the powers that be smiled upon her, Hinata had been granted a second chance. Her eyes glowed with a vigor that was previously stolen by the cold grip of a wretched end. "Naru...to..." she whispered weakly. It was all she could manage. Naruto managed his way over to Hinata and offered his only good hand, but fell to his knees, and from his knees, onto Hinata. She was overcome with shock and surprise, and her adrenaline kicked into overdrive from the sudden mental shock of the closeness, and the unexpected joy, making her wounds seem to disappear and giving her energy that would otherwise be impossible for her current state. His head fell to her shoulder, and his mouth positioned dangerously close to her neck.

She wrapped her arm around Naruto to embrace him without thinking. It seemed so perfect, like the ending to a romantic novel. "Naruto... I love..." But something was not right. He was cold. His body was motionless. There was no reaction to her embrace. There was no breath on her neck. In the dead silence of the night, she could hear no heartbeat. Her eyes glanced to the path Naruto had had taken towards her. The moons rays reflected off of pools of crimson like wine. He had used the last of his life force finding her, putting one step in front of the other with nothing more than shear force of will. Alas, stubbornness can not make up for the use of blood, and Naruto had lost much. Finding his partner alive had taken everything he had, and when he had no more, he died.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It was like a cruel joke signifying the end of an even crueler existence. In the end, the chance was presented to her only to be taken away before she had the chance to react. Anger burned inside her heart, and her soul was engulfed by flames of horrid despair. She gripped the back of her beloved's clothing and embraced him with all she had, crying tears which were long thought gone. The last of her energy was spent. Hinata began to slip into unconsciousness. "Naruto... I... love you." Hinata would not be defeated. She would take what contentment she could by claiming in death what she never could in life. The last of her words spoken, she tilted her head to rest on Naruto's, and died with the smallest notion of comfort displayed on a bitter-sweet smile. She finally had her beloved in her arms, and in her arms he would stay; they were together at last.