The Things He Missed
Genre:
Summary: He should have been crushed to death. That was what was supposed to happen, but he wasn't; he was barely alive, but he wasn't dead yet. What was he going to do now?
Notes: I know I should be concentrating on my other fics, especially since it's been a few weeks since I wrote on call me, but I've been having a serious block. Induced by too much work, but a block nonetheless. I just, for the first time, saw the episodes where they hit the Valley of the End. It wasn't what I expected, but it wasn't bad. I found it kind of sad that the sound five all died, especially Kimimaro; they spent so much time building his personality, or history at least, and then he died. Pity.
So I'm writing this. Hopefully he won't be so hopelessly screwed up for long, but you can never tell.
The Things That Were Missed
A slight figure, buried under tons of sand jerked spastically, unable to take a breath, unable to move, but still living. He couldn't figure out how. He should have died.
He'd wanted to die.
He was so sick, so tired, so sad because of his abysmal failure. Why was he still alive?
Scratching sounded above him, what seemed like miles as he attempted to breathe through all the compressed sand. It wasn't working, he was starting to suffocate.
The slight body jerked again, in pain this time from the lack of oxygen. What a fitting death, he thought to himself. He was supposed to be crushed, but the damn kekkei genkai had saved him, forming an armor of bone under his skin, preventing the deadly crush.
But it wasn't saving him from suffocation.
He jerked again, trying desperately to move his fingers, bruised and battered skin, but the insides of him, they were all fine.
Way to die. He'd hoped, selfishly, not to suffer too much at his death, since he'd suffered for so long being terminally ill. He would have shrugged if he could. Orochimaru sama had taught him the meaning of irony and selfishness.
The scratching noise came again, and his hair was being pulled at, roughly. He could feel something scratching his scalp, drawing blood, and tried to look up, failing miserably, since his face was still encased in sand.
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
He would never be certain how the old woman did it, but she'd managed to clear the sand from his face moments before he was to die. He could feel it coming, like an orgasm about to hit, all he'd needed to do was stretch just the last tiny bit and he'd never worry again.
Slowly, agonizingly, she'd dug him out, her fetid breath and sweaty stench offending his nostrils. Her stringy gray hair had fallen from her hat, and hung limply in her face, dripping sweat on him once in a while.
When he'd been able to move his arms, he'd ordered her to stop digging, and done it himself.
He'd been no faster than she, and when he dragged his legs out, he was as smelly and dirty as she, who had fed him water from her canteen when he'd paused digging.
He hadn't been that far under. Maybe jumping at the last minute had helped. He was also glad he'd sent out a clone after the boys. He knew they weren't dead, but he'd done some sort of damage, he hoped.
'Ye are not… right,' the old woman said, panting as she lay back a ways from the hole they'd created.
'Hn,' he replied, out of breath as well.
'What be wrong with ye?'
He simply shrugged, and the old woman stood slowly, resting heavily on a sturdy wooden stick that served as a cane.
'Come with Adela, young one. I'll try to heal ye, but we need to get back to my home first.' She told him, voice raspy and crackly as if she didn't use it often.
He shrugged slowly and got to his feet with a good deal of difficulty while she spoke and held one of his arms. He wasn't sure why he didn't just shrug her arm off, since he didn't really like being touched, but he didn't. He was almost grateful for her help, even though he knew he was going to die soon.
They rested for several hours, relaxing by the hole, glad no one was coming. Kimimaro was pretty certain that no one would be by here for a while. His bone shards had retreated back into the ground, and back into him, and they lay there, spent.
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Many hours later, when the sun had started to set, the pair of them stood up. Adela hadn't spoken much, and he was glad of it. He didn't want to speak. He just wanted to die in peace.
She led him slowly through the ruined forest, past the dead body of his comrade Tayuya. He wiped at the dried blood that had oozed out of her mouth and stared at her crushed body sadly.
Well, he'd assume he'd be what was called sad, since she was a teammate, but he didn't really care. He'd wanted to kill her himself.
End chapter.
Sabaku no Hime: that was pathetic. I've never written a chapter so short, so I guess this is a prologue. This idea is buzzing around my head, has been for a few days. So I guess I'll see where it goes. This is going to be a shortie, smaller than Call Me.
Anywho, let me know what'cha think. Or not. We'll see. I'll update call me when you're sober soon, but I've been having problems with the plot. It's in a bit of a knot, and I know the ends of it, but the middle of it is just a great, big mess right now.