I'm running.

Leaping, actually. Through trees. In the rain. Well, it might be rain. There is definitely a possibility that it's just me sweating.

In my blurred peripheral, I see a streak which I assume is lightning. The Raikage? Maybe. It could be Sensei. He knows over a thousand jutsus. Or, God forbid, it could be Sasuke.

Sasuke.

I shake my head and will myself to run faster. Jump faster. Propel myself forward using my arms. My destination is nearing, and Sasuke is not going to hold me back. Not again.

I push my wet hair out of my eyes and glance at the sky. Raindrops fall from enormous, gray clouds and a giant orb of light is barely visible behind them, as if the moon itself doesn't want to watch the events that play out on Earth.

Not that I'd blame it.

I bite my chapped lip, but the tears come anyway. Saltwater mixes with the rainwater on my face and flows into my mouth, but I end up spitting it out and releasing hoarse choking sounds that I realize is me sobbing. I press my hand over my mouth to block the noise but the tears don't stop.

My mind wanders and I recall fragments of what I'd been desperately trying to avoid thinking about ever since it happened. Flashes of imagery appear in my brain: a clash, a bloody struggle, a Bijuu being thrust from its host, and a lifeless corpse lying among the wreckage.

I slam my wrist into my front teeth, attempting to stop the tears, and forcing pain into the hands which just might up being the tools that will save his life.

Him. The corpse on the ground.

I push those thoughts away from my mind. I cannot become distracted, because if that happens who knows how far I could unravel. And who knows if I could pull myself together again.

Unwillingly, my fists clench and I curse the clouds for feeling the need to huddle together and cry today. I feel their pain, though. But crying doesn't solve problems. It fuels emotional streams of consciousness and actually keeps solutions further from your mind. At least, that's what I'd been told once.

I use my palm to wipe my eyes and I continue to ponder, trying my best to avoid thinking about his fate, and instead trying to store up my chakra and think about something, anything else. But instead of that, it becomes worse and I begin to feel hot in the pit of my stomach, which I realize must be my boiling rage. Why hadn't I stopped it? Why hadn't anyone done anything? And who the hell had the right to inflict this upon him?

But then I realized that this present existence was paved with unfairness. Nothing should have happened, but it did. It wasn't prevented because some higher power willed it to be so. And some things just can't be fought against, no matter the strength of the will.

More images run through my head, but I can't look at them, I can't. Because all that I can do now is get to where he is. To the tent. I'm moving faster now. Tree by tree, I'm inching closer.

Closer to my best friend.

Lightning flashes again. Then, thunder.

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head again. I need to clear my thoughts. I need to stop this. He'll be okay. He has to be okay.

Deep down, I know, though. I know he's dead. His Bijuu had been taken, along with his life. I had been a witness to the effects of an extraction before. I know what happens.

My eyes are darting around the woods now. Looking frantically for something, anything, to preoccupy me again, because I can't allow myself to think like that if he's going to live. Because even if I know the truth, I have to believe something different. I have to believe that he will live, even if I know he can't. I begin noticing insignificant details about my surroundings. Clear drops of water falling from small, green leaves. Tiny footprints in the mud. Blood on my fingers from gripping the tree limbs too hard. Playful, blue eyes under a gleaming Leaf headband.

The snap of a tree limb jerks me from my thoughts and, before I know it, I'm falling. I hit the ground and a rock protruding from it finds a home in the side of my ribcage. I'm sure that I yelp, but any noise I make is drowned out by another rap of thunder.

Surprisingly, the initial impact is not as bad as the endearing feeling of pain that follows. I scream, but no sound escapes. I look down towards my midsection but whatever I would have seen is just a messy red blotch now because my vision is hazy.

I'm wheezing now. Pathetic, awful sounds. I can't think straight. Panic is about to settle in, I know, but before it can those blue eyes cross my muddled thoughts, and with scraped, muddy hands I hoist myself up, stagger, and then fall to one knee.

I try to make sense of it all. I try to form complete thoughts, but I'm stuck, stuck in this hell as it pulls me under its black waves and sucks out my strength to go on.

And the last thing I can process is a pair of arms lifting me up.

I wake to the sound of someone dropping a box of kunai. Abruptly, I sit up, but then my left side explodes in pain and I cry out. There are quick footsteps and then a medic-nin is here, consoling me and telling me not to move. She takes out a syringe and before I know it, I'm passed out again.

My eyes open again, this time to the sound of chirping crickets, who sound too happy. As soon as I regain consciousness, I become aware that I'm on the ground. The dirt is cold and hard, but it feels so good on my sticky skin that I lay there anyway.

Just now, I notice that I'm looking at the inside of a medical tent. The first thing I take in is the arrangement of kunai lying on the floor, and it occurs to me that whoever had spilled those had been the person that had woken me up earlier. The dusty oil lamp in the corner casts shadows on the walls, and there's a small bowl of water lying next to my feet. I don't know where that water's been, or what it's been used for, but my impulse takes over and I lunge clumsily for it, whacking my head on a wooden desk that I hadn't noticed before. It stings horribly for a few seconds, but by the time it stops my water is already drained dry.

I'm not satisfied, though. And it dawns on me that I might not have drank anything for however long I was out, so, in a hasty act of desperation I grip the nearby desk stool and attempt to pull myself up. It would have been nice if I had seen that one of the legs was taped, but alas, I hadn't, so when the stool collapses I fall, confused, with it. And with that I decide to give up on the water.

I turn my attention back to the shadows on the wall, watching as they shift back and forth with the flickering of the flame in the lamp. I figure that since the lamp is lit at all, that it must still be nighttime. I must not have been out long at all.

The time of day suddenly hits me, and I remember why I had been out at night in the first place. I remember my reason for rushing here so earnestly, and immediately am ashamed that I didn't remember sooner. I try to move my legs and get up from the floor, but the pain knocks my side again, and I fall back to the ground.

"Sorry, we were all out of cots."

Her voice is no more than a whisper, but I whirl around anyways, almost hitting the desk again, only to meet a set of pastel green eyes and a blond ponytail.

"Ino."

But something is different about her, and it's not her appearance. It's her demeanor. Instead of her usual haughty expression, she is showing hardly any expression at all. And her superiority poise is notably absent, with a shaken one in its place.

She tries to smile, she does. "Hi there, Forehead. Miss me?"

"Not particularly." I try to be amusing as well.

She glances at the remains of the stool. Then she looks at me. And I know that she knows.

Ino isn't my best friend, by any means. She's rude, cocky, annoying, and frankly, a little too naïve. But, when I need someone, to look out for me and just know what to do when the time is right, she gets the job done. And I would be lying if I said I hadn't worried for her safety over these past few days.

She kneels down next to me and wraps her arm around my waist to help me up. In the entire process she doesn't say a word, and that's when I know that his fate is not just affecting me, but everyone else. This provides me with even more motivation to get to him as quickly as possible.

All I can say is "Thank you," and even that is hard. Because while I have been in this tent for the past couple hours, other people have been hard at work, healing and trying to repair the damage caused by the war. And I have done absolutely nothing.

As I make it to my feet, a wave of nausea rushes over me and I stagger. Ino's grip on me tightens, as she asks if I'm okay. I figure that the answer is obvious, that I am most certainly not okay, but I know that the reason she asked was to make conversation and to avoid the subject that we want to avoid, so I lie and tell her I'm fine. I realize how stupid it is of me to say that, as I am in a medical tent wrapped in bandages, but it's too late because the words are out of my mouth. I expect to see a look of amusement on her face, but instead, Ino's eyebrows are creased with worry. She shifts her eyes and focuses on something behind me. I sigh and put my oily hand on my forehead.

"You don't look okay."

In one swift movement, Ino uses her free hand and pulls a cracked mirror out of her back pocket and puts it in front of me. The first thing I notice is that my complexion has gone from pale to ghostly white. However, all that pale skin is covered up by a dark layer of grime, except for two vertical lines that must have been paved by my tears. There's a large gash starting from the tip of my left cheekbone and reaches down to the bottom of my chin, and there's dried blood from the gash that dripped down onto my neck. My nose is scratched and cut, and there's a large bruise on my right temple. The only thing that's normal is my purple Byakugou symbol on my forehead, and even that I'm still trying to get used to.

"Oh," I breathe, "I look—"

"Awful, yeah," Ino says in a soft voice.

"Thanks, a lot."

She actually manages a smile, but it doesn't last and she becomes straight-faced again. "You were much worse a couple hours ago when I found you in the woods."

I drop the mirror, and it hits the floor with a clank. "Y-You found me?"

At first, she just looks at me. Then she begins to realize how surprised I am, and she looks tiredly offended. "Well…yeah. Who'd you think it was?" she says quietly.

To be honest, I had not even slightly considered the possibility that my savior could have been Ino. Despite her being probably my closest female friend, I had never really thought that Ino would ever amount to much, other than being a mediocre medic nin and a somewhat rival of mine over the years. Clearly, I need to pay more attention.

I realize I still haven't answered her question, so I express my gratitude by wrapping my right arm around her neck and burying my face in it.

I thought she'd cringe at the close contact since I'm probably not the most beautiful smelling person to be near right now, but she actually responds enthusiastically and hugs me back. "Thank you," I say to her shoulder.

"Anytime, Forehead," she whispers, and I can feel her tears rolling onto my face.

Her tears jerk me back to the task at hand and remind me that I need to get to the tent. I've already wasted too much time.

I remove my arm from around her. "Ino? Could you.."

She just nods.

Scared really isn't the appropriate word for the mess that I'm feeling right now. I don't get particularly scared about things like this. Worried? No, the concept of being worried requires not knowing. I know his condition. Shocked? Not quite.

My steps are slower than usual. It's most likely because of my obvious injury, but I also feel like it could be my brewing anxiety that is dragging my feet. It's weird, like emotions themselves can affect your physical condition. I really wish that I'd stop moving in slow motion, though. Because even though I know what lies in that tent, it is this agonizing wait for palpable confirmation that is killing me inside.

My thoughts are cut off, because as we are approaching his tent, a familiar face comes into view, and as much as I'd like to ignore her and keep going, the need to find something positive from her words overwhelms me. I don't know why I do it, because she's probably taking all this really hard. I stop in my lopsided tracks and find her tear filled, lavender eyes.

It makes me feel really bad. It really does. Because I should have never stopped to say anything, and all I could do is make things worse for her.

She already lost Neji. Now him.

"Stay strong."

The words just tumble from my mouth in a croaky murmur, and I regret them immediately and realize that maybe I was telling myself these words instead of her. After all, there are no words that I could possibly say that would help with what she must be feeling. I know, because I am feeling the same, I'm just hiding it, forcing it to the pit of my stomach to save there so that it can be released later, when I'm alone. I automatically look to the ground in shame, and try to step away, but before I can do it, I feel a hand on the side of my cheek. I look up and Hinata's dripping eyes are trained on mine, her bottom lip quivering, and her hand, the one who had touched his face not so long ago, is shaking in its wake. Then, without a word, she leaves.

Ino puts her hand on my shoulder, and I take that as an initiative to keep walking, which I do, except even slower than before. For some reason, I begin to think of the moment when he saved me from those two disguised Zetsus, and even then he had been a clone. Yet, he had looked so strong and confident then, so sure. He hadn't even hesitated when he'd slammed their skulls into the ground, which had scared me and exhilarated me at the same time.

I try to remember more from that moment, but I can't because my heartbeat is becoming abnormally loud and it's blaring in my ears, clouding out my thoughts. My eyes are locked on my non-crippled foot, and I see it stop moving because we've reached the tent.

Neither Ino nor I say anything.

She's hesitating, I can tell even without looking. She's holding back something she wants to say, but my befuddled thoughts are preventing me from grasping anything right now, so I don't even try to guess.

Now that I've stopped hobbling, I can hear quiet voices coming from the tent. These noises, combined with the sound of my heartbeat which has become even louder, almost cause panic. Almost. I manage to maintain my composure, and, with Ino still guiding me, I pull back the tent flap, and we make our way inside.