Oasis, chapter 4: Sky Falls Down
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Ino was bent over a creased map of the greater continent, skimming the names of the various countries and making rough estimations in her head about distance and time given their current location somewhere in northeastern Fire Country. She'd never been farther west than Wind Country, now that she thought about it. There had never been much of a reason to travel beyond with no shinobi villages to worry about. With her index finger, she traced the scratchy names of unknown territories. Land of Birds, Land of Caves, the Great Crater Lake... A thousand miles to the east was a long way to go.
"Planning a trip?"
Ino looked up at the sound of her companion's voice. Kimimaro stood by the small window, a towel around his neck as he rummaged around for a shirt. Ino frowned slightly. He went through shirts like they were going out of style. Every time he summoned bones anywhere on his upper body they would rip his clothing until it was hanging off him, depending on how many he called forth. And yet, he seemed to have enough shirts on hand to manage for now. Never mind that they were all the same—light grey, loose, and short-sleeved.
Pants, on the other hand, didn't seem to be in abundance. There was a slit across the thigh where an Infected had cut him the other day in their skirmish outside the pharmacy that he'd wrapped with bandages. Even though he'd managed to get most of the blood out, the deep violet material look almost black around the tear. He looked less like a fearsome shinobi and more like a rebellious teenager at the moment without his usual leg and arm guards on. Perhaps they should think about procuring some more clothing, especially if they were going to find themselves fighting again somewhere down the line. Then again, fashion was probably the least of his worries, and she had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate her commentary on the subject at this time.
"I'm trying to plot out a course for us," she said instead, returning her attention to the map. "We've been heading west, and I think we should keep going."
Kimimaro tossed his towel on the bed and pulled a fresh shirt over his head. Ino caught a glimpse of the mysterious tattoo just below his clavicle but said nothing. She was really curious about it, but it was a moot point. If he wanted to open up, he'd do so in his own time. Until then, she'd try to work on getting him to trust her a little.
"Why?"
"These are the great shinobi countries," she said, indicating each of the five nations. "And there are—were—shinobi living and roaming around the lesser countries, like Bear and Rice. The farther west we go, the less chance there will be of running into more Infected."
Kimimaro was silent for a moment, thinking. "The infection's airborne. These distances probably won't matter if even one Infected makes it out there."
Ino was about to say that the point was to avoid any Infected with shinobi skills—certainly civilians would be simple enough to handle—but his words gave her pause. "How do you know the infection's airborne?"
If he regretted letting slip this knowledge, he didn't show it. He really doesn't make this easy for me.
"It's obvious. People got sick just from exposure. Direct contact wasn't a prerequisite."
Ino held his gaze for a moment, turning this over. Sakura had deduced as much from drawn out observation in the early days of the outbreak, but over time it became obvious that illness could strike upon more direct exposure too, such as a blood transfusion. How Kimimaro, who was certainly not a medical expert, knew this was a cause for suspicion.
He's hiding something.
"You're pretty astute for someone without formal medical training," Ino said, breaking eye contact so as not to draw his own suspicions. "We figured that out from treating patients."
But it took constant observation of different cases to be really sure.
He took his time replying, which only confirmed Ino's silent thoughts. He knew more than he was letting on. But what? And why was he keeping it to himself?
"It doesn't matter. You are I are fine even after fighting hand to hand with the Infected, so we're clearly immune."
"To the airborne virus. I wouldn't recommend drinking their blood."
He made a sound of agreement, either not getting the joke or choosing to ignore it. Regardless, Ino decided to move on from the topic before he got the idea that she knew he was hiding something. They had nothing but time alone together, after all; there would be more opportunities later.
"So you have no one left out here," he said.
"Excuse me?"
"If you had anyone left, you'd want to go east and search for them. I take it they're all Infected or dead."
A fierce anger out of nowhere made her blood boil as the desire to punch him in his unfeeling face tempted her. The way he'd said it made it sound like looking for her loved ones would be an annoyance—a burden. But she refrained, schooling her expression out of habit. "I suggested going west because any other direction would be like asking to be ambushed. These parts are swarming with Infected shinobi. It's a deathtrap."
Turning back to the map, she let her eyes travel west toward the fabled Sun Coast far beyond even Earth Country, the place old crones always talked about in their fairy tales to children. They said it was the edge of the world, where the sun was born and the darkness could never descend. Pretty words for naïve children, but a place without darkness in a world haunted by nocturnal monsters sounded like utopia, no matter how fantastical.
"In any case, we agreed to head west if things turned sour," she added.
"So you're holding out hope that you'll see your family and friends again."
"And what's wrong with that?" She met his gaze, refusing to let him talk down to her.
He peered at her, more curious than condescending as though he couldn't possibly understand what it meant to miss another person. "As long as it doesn't affect our arrangement, I couldn't care less." He turned away from her then.
"Kimimaro," she called to him. "Why do you hate people so much?"
She wasn't sure if he was actually a misanthrope or simply had no one in the world to care about to begin with, but depending on his answer she hoped to find out.
"What's there to like?"
Misanthrope, then.
"Plenty. Especially now that the world's basically ending and there's not many of us left."
"I don't want to hear your platitudes. End of the world or not, you have your reasons and I have mine. Leave it at that."
Ino was suddenly angry at his callous dismissal. "I'm gonna prove you wrong."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I'm gonna prove to you that people are the most important part of being alive. If we... If we're really all that's left, then it would be a waste to squander this opportunity."
His expression didn't change one way or the other. He just looked at her with that same air of acute boredom, and Ino wondered if he might become angry with her.
"The only thing you can count on people for is their endless narcissism."
The hint of bitterness in his tone did not escape her notice, and she had to pause and wonder—what had he gone through to make him think like this?
"Egomania is a part of human nature," she allowed, "but it's only a small part in most people. I promise you that."
"Suit yourself," he said, turning away. He may as well have told her to go fuck herself.
Ino let him go. There would be no point in arguing this any further. She would just have to show him over time that she wasn't out to get him. It made her wonder, though.
What happened to you?
"We'll leave within the hour. I don't want to get caught in the middle of nowhere once it gets dark," he called from the stairway, leaving no room for argument.
"Yeah," Ino said anyway, tapping a finger against the western seacoast.
They traveled lightly, all things considered. Needless to say, Ino was not thrilled about the prospect of sleeping outside again. There was something about having four concrete walls around her at night that provided a comforting illusion of safety. Sneaking a glance at her dutifully laconic companion, she had to admit she felt safe with Kimimaro regardless. As long as they stuck together, they might live to see another day in this world.
After making it out of the town, they skirted the thinning forests of Fire Country as they headed due west toward Grass Country. Normally, Ino would have opted to take advantage of even limited cover when traveling, but in this case she wanted to be out in the open to better spot any ambushes. Stretching her senses in a 360 degree sweep, she detected nothing out of the ordinary for miles. Beyond that, however, was anyone's guess.
It was early morning when they set out at a comfortable walking pace. There was no hurry, and running would tire them. Ino had to ignore the inexplicable sense of urgency as they meandered a thin animal trail near the edge of the woods. It wasn't as though she had anywhere to be anytime soon, and yet something within nagged that they should be hurrying along. She shook her head.
If Shikamaru's out there, he'll stick to the plan. Stay calm.
Thoughts of her closest friend reminded her of everyone else in Konoha. Some she'd witnessed fall victim to the infection. Others had died fighting those already turned. Watching Sakura deliver the killing blow to her own mentor as Ino's technique held the woman in place nearly destroyed them both. It had been for the greater good, but Sakura broke down after that, inconsolable and unable to face any more patients.
She didn't even know what had happened to most of the others. Sakura and Naruto disappeared soon after the incident with Tsunade, Naruto spouting something about finding a cure and not wanting to wait around for everyone to die. Ino wondered if they were still out there somewhere, or if they'd found Sasuke. That is, if there was anything left to find at this point.
The weight of her memories slowed her down a bit, and she realized she was lagging when she noticed Kimimaro walking several yards ahead of her. Needing a distraction—and wanting to focus on their current situation and safety—Ino jogged to catch up with him. He didn't so much as look at her when she drew up even with him. Ino maintained a respectable distance out of consideration for his personal space, and his lack of commentary told her she wasn't too close. Clearing her throat, she asked the first thing that came to mind.
"Where are you from?"
He glanced at her askance. "What does it matter?"
She shrugged. "I was just wondering. You're not wearing any identifying symbols."
"Neither are you."
Gloved hands moved to her neck where she'd worn her Leaf hitai-ate previously. She'd lost it somewhere, probably while running and fighting for her life. Deciding it probably didn't matter at this point (alliances meant nothing without villages to uphold them), she said, "I'm from Konoha. The Yamanaka clan, specifically."
"Konoha," he said, giving no indication of what he thought about that. "Of course."
"Of course what?"
"I've heard of the Yamanaka clan. I should have realized you were one of them sooner. That's all."
Ino thought that was a bit odd. Her clan was small, not like the Uchiha or the Hyuuga clans. Hers wasn't the household name theirs was. The Yamanaka clan wasn't totally obscure, but it was interesting that he was familiar with her family. She swallowed that bit of information for later use.
"So, are you gonna tell me where you're from or not?"
Kimimaro took his time responding, as usual. "Water Country."
Ino thought about this. His technique was clearly some kind of bloodline limit, and yet she'd never heard of it before. It must be a rare occurrence. Mist was known for its fear of bloodline limits, so she guessed that since he'd survived this long he must have been far removed from the village proper. Either his clan was nomadic—and she was positive he must be from a shinobi clan to fight the way he did—or it resided in rural Water Country away from the village system. Either way, he'd clearly left it behind.
"So why did you leave your clan?"
He was not pleased with her clever deduction. "What was that you were saying about egomania? That it's not a prominent characteristic in most people?"
Ino frowned. "You know, I'm pretty damn good at figuring people out, but you set yourself up for that one. A monkey could've drawn the same conclusion. Don't look so shocked."
"That's the last time I underestimate you."
Somehow, it came out sounding more like a threat than any sort of concession. They continued in silence for several minutes, and Ino resigned herself to the probability that he wasn't going to divulge anything after all.
Oh well.
"Kaguya."
"What?"
"The name of my clan was Kaguya."
Before she could ask about the past tense he added, "They were all killed many years ago."
Ino was speechless for a moment. "I... I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't be. They chose their own fate."
A cold chill crept up her spine at his callous attitude toward the family he no longer had. For him to be so dismissive of his own kin was surely a sign that this was probably not the type of person she wanted watching her back. They barely knew each other still, and he had even less reason to look out for her than he would family. She stopped that train of thought before it could continue.
He needs me as much as I need him.
But what would happen when he no longer needed her?
"How did they die?"
"They liked to fight. So one night, my father decided to invade Mist."
Ino gaped at him. "Invade? As in, your clan alone against a great shinobi village? That's suicide."
"That's hubris."
Unbelieving that such madness could have driven an entire clan of shinobi to its brutal death on a whim of ambition, Ino shook her head. "How did you escape?"
He had a faraway look in his eyes, and she wondered what he was remembering. Whatever it was, it didn't look like a very pleasant memory.
"A shinobi passing through took me in and gave me a new purpose."
"And where's that person now?"
"He's dead."
His tone of finality made Ino wonder if he'd done the deed himself for how sure he sounded. Wanting to say something to lighten the dark mood that had descended over them, she said, "I suppose that's better than turning into one of the Infected."
Kimimaro blinked, a brief flash of anger lighting up his eyes. "Yeah. That would have been much worse."
They exchanged no more words for the next few hours.
With the sun beginning to sink from its highest point in the sky, Kimimaro pulled a water bottle from his pack and took a long gulp. The Fire Country was damp and hot in the summer, and he would be glad to get out of it as soon as possible. Ino seemed content to walk in silence for the most part, making passing comments here and there about the scenery. Nothing important since their rather personal conversation earlier that morning.
Yamanaka.
He remembered Orochimaru talking about the Yamanaka clan once a couple years ago when some Sound shinobi captured one of their rank alive for Kabuto to dissect. Mind benders, Orochimaru had called them. Having met one himself now, Kimimaro was inclined to agree. Had he known the purpose of Kabuto's experimentation on that young Yamanaka shinobi then, he probably would have killed the boy himself. Not that it mattered anymore. What was done was done.
Clearly, Ino had no idea about his past relationship with Orochimaru or Sound. Giving her the name of his clan would have tipped off anyone privy to that information. He felt more relaxed knowing she was oblivious to his background, especially with her being from Konoha. The last thing he needed was the last dregs of now obsolete village loyalties interfering in their survival together.
Together.
He supposed they were in this together now. So far, she'd proven useful in many ways, if not a little too sharp for comfort. He would have to be careful to watch his words around her in the future. She stopped walking rather abruptly, eyes half-lidded and lips pressed together in a show of anxiety.
"What is it?"
"Someone's coming." She looked toward the forest. "They're coming fast."
"How many?"
"Just one."
Icy green eyes narrowed at the gnarled trees concealing whatever Infected was crazy enough to try to ambush them alone. Still, he'd learned that even one Infected was one more than he was willing to let live. Shrugging his pack off, he handed it to Ino.
"Put this somewhere out of the way. I'll handle this."
Ino rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She stashed their packs at the foot of a nearby tree and returned to his side. "Didn't we just decide that we work better together than alone?"
Kimimaro ignored her as he coaxed a fresh bone blade from the palm of his hand. "Two against one wouldn't be very fair."
He caught her smirk out of the corner of his eye. "Whatever you say," she said, taking a few steps back.
The couple minutes of waiting, staring deep into the heart of the woods, seemed like the longest of Kimimaro's life. But he would be ready, and then they could get the hell out of here.
"Oh," Ino said. "That's... No, it can't be!"
"What?"
"Oh my god. He's here!"
Several tense seconds of absolute silence ticked by, making Kimimaro sweat. Something wasn't right.
Clang!
Kimimaro jumped backwards, bone blade held in front of him for protection just as a scythe bigger than any he'd ever laid eyes on collided with his calcified weapon. Pale eyes narrowed as a dark figure emerged from the forest, a long metal cord reeling the triple bladed scythe back toward its owner. Landing next to Ino, he got a good look at the enemy. He was covered in stitches, as though he'd been ripped apart and put back together in a hurry. A once impressive physique barely covered by the remains of a black robe was riddled with scars and dried black blood, but Kimimaro detected no fresh wounds, much to his suspicion.
"It's not possible," Ino said, her voice shaky. "It's not possible."
"You know this one?"
The Infected shinobi, as though recognizing itself to be the topic of conversation, let out a rattling cackle, baring broken teeth in a frightful smile. Kimimaro froze at the sight. There was something unnatural and sinister about this one.
"Hidan," Ino said. "That's Hidan, of Akatsuki."
Kimimaro peered between his blonde companion and the Infected brandishing its grisly scythe at them. If he didn't know better, he'd say there was some kind of history here by her reaction. "You know him personally."
"We defeated him."
"Well, obviously you didn't do a very good job of it."
Before Ino could respond, Hidan launched his scythe at them once more, forcing them to split up to avoid getting maimed. Kimimaro swore under his breath as he drew another bone blade from his palm. First things first—he had to separate Hidan and his weapon. Taking off at breakneck speed, he lunged for the fallen Akatsuki, sharpened bones at the ready.
Hidan dodged the attack at point-blank range. Kimimaro matched his steps and stabbed again, but Hidan was fast. Too fast.
"Get outta there now!"
Having learned by now never to ignore a warning from Ino, Kimimaro jumped high over Hidan's head just as the wicked scythe collided with the Akatsuki's chest right where Kimimaro had been only half a second ago. Green eyes watched, unmoved, as the blades cut through Hidan's rotted flesh, spilling black blood to the grassy earth below. Landing several yards away, Kimimaro regained his bearings.
That was fast.
The chill he'd felt before returned with the force of a frigid wind as he watched Hidan grip the scythe's handle and yank it out of his body. Diseased violet eyes turned to face him, the grin on his face taunting and truculent.
How is he still standing?
"He's immortal." Ino's voice rang in his head. "Physical attacks won't bring him down."
Even via their mental link, Kimimaro could detect the trepidation in her voice. Immortal? But that was preposterous. No one was immortal. Hidan spit sticky black spittle on the ground and readied his scythe once more, advancing on Kimimaro as though that last attack hadn't even fazed him.
"Fantastic," he communicated to Ino.
"Watch out!"
He didn't need to be told twice. Having reclaimed his scythe, Hidan now slashed at Kimimaro with renewed vigor, and Kimimaro was forced to deflect the swipes rather than deliver his own attacks. With every blow he deflected, he grew increasingly more irritated.
Enough.
Just as Hidan's scythe bore down on him again, he twisted and pushed his chakra out. Pain bloomed at his elbows and knees as gnarled bones emerged from his joints and extended several feet. Completing a spin, Kimimaro drove an elbow into Hidan's spine, a killing blow on any normal man. But Hidan simply staggered a little before reaching back to pull the bone out. Kimimaro let him, bringing a knee around in the momentum to ram into Hidan's lower abdomen. Pausing, he wondered why Ino wasn't intervening with her technique to slow Hidan down. Most likely reading this thought, her voice reached him then.
"Restrain him!" she commanded.
"That's your job."
"Just do it, Kimimaro!"
The edge in her voice was one he hadn't heard before, but Hidan was already recovering and there was no time to argue. Hidan threw his scythe again, but Kimimaro dodged it easily. Following its erratic path briefly, he saw it careening straight for Ino, who was running to meet them. Without thinking twice, Kimimaro reached for the metal cord and yanked hard, throwing the scythe's trajectory off course. He was rewarded for his efforts with a severe punch to the gut that would have shattered a normal ribcage, no doubt. Still, it was enough to induce a coughing fit.
Hidan swung a rotted leg around for a nasty kick aimed at Kimimaro's head, but through sheer willpower Kimimaro managed to impale Hidan's leg with a jagged bone. Swallowing the cough and the screaming pain in his stomach, Kimimaro took advantage of Hidan's pause and gutted him, holding him in place. Hidan hissed and spat, the enhanced strength granted by the infection enough to sway them and make Kimimaro begin to see double as he tried to suppress the cough.
"Die!" Ino screamed.
Kimimaro watched as Ino, wielding glowing chakra blades, jumped onto Hidan's impaled leg and slashed at his neck. With a sickening squelch, Hidan's neck opened up and spewed black blood in every direction. Medical chakra-infused blades allowed for one clean cut through tissue and bone alike, and Hidan's head tumbled to the ground. Kimimaro lost his balance under the unstable weight and stumbled backwards, hacking up blood. After a moment and once his bone blades disintegrated, he could feel something cool and soft in his chest alleviating the liquid burn. As if of its own accord, more blood dribbled from Kimimaro's mouth, bitter and toxic as it dripped onto the ground. Cracking an eye open, he saw Ino kneeling next to him, her hands radiating a soft green light. Without the energy to do anything but continue to cough, he couldn't push her away. The fit subsided after a few minutes and Kimimaro wiped his mouth.
"What did you do?"
"I forced the blood accumulating in your lungs out. You should be able to breath more easily for now."
Keeping his eyes screwed shut, Kimimaro attempted a breath. Sure enough, the chronic churning indicative of old blood pooling in his lungs was gone. Before he could appreciate it fully, the same soothing chakra wended its way through the muscles and bones of his abdomen, soothing the pain from Hidan's earlier attack. Against his better judgement, Kimimaro slumped a little into her touch. For the moment, telling her off for meddling in his health affairs was the furthest thought from his mind.
"There," she said, pulling away to give him some space.
Blinking, Kimimaro looked at her. Her flak vest was splattered with what he guessed was Hidan's blood from the decapitation. Otherwise, she looked unharmed. Shifting his gaze to Hidan's dismembered corpse next, he noticed the severed head spitting and hissing in their general direction.
"It's still alive," he said, incredulous. Kimimaro had seen his share of the weird, the horrific, and the downright sinful during his tenure in Sound, but Hidan's immortality was beyond even his imagination.
"He can't die in the traditional way," she explained, her voice steady like it had not been before. "The only way to defeat him is to separate the head from the body. This time...I'll destroy the head for good."
This was a side to the woman he hadn't seen before. Curiosity got the better of him. "Who did he kill?"
Ino set her jaw, but she held her composure remarkably well. "My old teacher. I never really got my chance at him then."
Revenge, he thought, understanding. It's one of the most powerful motivators.
"I'm gonna finish this once and for all like I should have the last time. I won't be long."
Kimimaro just stared as she marched over to Hidan's rattling head and began to inundate it with chakra. Right before his eyes, the skin on the head began to boil and melt. The bone was soon to follow, warping and crumbling to dust. A sound escaped the head that could have passed for the scream of a dying animal, but Kimimaro felt no sympathy for it. Instead, his eyes were trained on Ino's face. It remained cold and callous during the entire gruesome process.
When the screaming stopped and all that remained was a stinking puddle of tar and bone dust, Ino stood and offered Kimimaro a hand up. All the while, she gave nothing away. "I'll get our packs. Are you okay to keep going?"
"Yeah."
As they set off again, Kimimaro found himself watching her every now and then. No, he'd never be underestimating her again, he thought. And a part of him deep down suddenly felt more at ease with her by his side.
"How many?"
Ino swallowed hard but didn't respond. Kimimaro gripped her shoulder and shook her.
"Ino, how many?"
Blue eyes snapped open. "I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"I mean there are too many to count."
She watched him for a reaction, the pale moonlight casting half his face in shadows and illuminating his ghostly eyes. They were near the border of Grass Country, but after the incident with Hidan things had gone downhill. Ino picked up on a herd of Infected as the sun set, and while they tried to outrun it the herd split in order to surround them. Now, in the dead of night, they found themselves boxed in with little opportunity for escape.
"Then we need to run."
Ino didn't argue with him as they took off at breakneck speed to the north. The herd was approaching from east and west, so if they could simply outrun it they might escape unharmed. Paranoid, and for good reason, Ino tracked the herd's movements incessantly, not caring that she might be using more chakra than she should to pinpoint their exact locations.
"Shit," she swore.
"Do I even want to know?"
"They split again. We can't turn around now."
Kimimaro didn't respond to that, but he picked up the pace until they were nearly flying through the trees. When the first kunai sliced off a bit of Ino's bangs, she knew they had failed. Rather than waiting for Kimimaro to dodge the incoming fire projectile attack himself, Ino lunged and tackled him from behind. They fell to the earth together, a moving conflagration filling the space they'd occupied only milliseconds ago. He looked up at her and they both knew what was coming.
"We're out of time," she said, forcing a smile.
"Not yet, we're not," he said, pulling them both to their feet.
As they stood, the Infected emerged on all sides. Not wasting any time, Ino and Kimimaro threw themselves into battle. Ino took control of the nearest two Infected and turned them against their brethren, hacking and slashing. Behind her, Kimimaro was busy gutting Infected left and right. She caught a glimpse of him spilling a former Suna nin's intestines before moving onto the next opponent without even bothering to admire his handiwork.
But they just kept coming. Even with her two, then three, then four mind controlled minions, Ino could not keep up with the sheer numbers. One Iwa kunoichi attempted to lop off her head with a bo staff, and Ino had to block the blow with her chakra blades while her minions dealt with other Infected. Fighting hand-to-hand was not her modus operandi, but it looked like she wouldn't have much of a choice here.
All of a sudden, she felt someone grab her hand and pull hard. "What—"
"Run," Kimimaro said, dragging her along.
Ino nearly tripped over the piling corpses of Infected she and Kimimaro had slaughtered, but she didn't have time to think about it as they broke into a run again. Emerging beyond the treeline, Ino had a clearer view of what they were up against.
"Oh my god," she said, horrified.
There were hundreds of them.
Kimimaro released her hand. "I'm not dying like this."
Ino didn't have anything to say to that. From her point of view, it looked quite the opposite. Still, she wasn't about to go down without a fight. Drawing on her chakra, she prepared to launch Shinranshin once more. Beside her, Kimimaro remained stony faced and unmoving, but she assumed he had something up his sleeve. With a rattling cry, the Infected ran at them all at once. Ino released her technique, stopping six in their tracks and turning them against their neighbors. She took out nearly fifteen Infected in under seven seconds. Kimimaro had disappeared from her side, his bone drill and spinal cord whip flaying and filleting as he moved.
It wasn't enough. She knew this when she felt the first knick of a kunai at her back, an attack she didn't have the strength or foresight to dodge in time. They began closing in, swiping and slashing at every opportunity. Ino suffered lesions and lacerations across her arms and one particularly heinous one in her left flank. Kimimaro wasn't faring much better as even his spiny bone armor could not deter the elemental techniques driving him into a corner and melting his bone drill. Soon, they were literally back to back and surrounded on all sides by the Infected.
Notwithstanding the palpable fright making her hands shake as she tried to maintain her feeble hand seal, the welling despair that dying here would mean never seeing anyone she loved ever again was nearly asphyxiating. It killed her to think that she wouldn't even get the chance to know for certain if she and Kimimaro were the only ones left.
"Kimimaro," she whispered, fearful blue eyes darting between the mutilated Infected stalking ever closer.
"There's nothing to say," he said. "Don't bother."
Ino smiled a little sadly. At least I'm not alone in the end. "I'm glad I met you."
He tensed behind her, but she couldn't possibly know if it was at her words or the sudden lunge of a screaming Infected. Bracing herself for impact, Ino resolved to take as many Infected with her as possible. A loud crack drew her attention to the west, where what appeared to be a small mushroom cloud billowed skyward from among a section of the Infected army. The glow of fire followed soon after, and for a moment everyone froze. Until another similar crack resounded to the north.
What the hell?
A rush of strong wind forced Ino and Kimimaro to duck for cover, and she looked up. To her horror what looked to be a great, white dragon circled the plain above them. Mesmerized, Ino watched as it belched out a missile projectile from its tail. It fell to the earth in a precise path, as though controlled remotely, whereby it exploded in a brilliant display of body parts and light. Distantly, Ino thought she heard someone laughing, and the dragon drew her eyes once more.
"There's someone up there controlling it," Kimimaro said.
The Infected switched gears and aimed all their attacks skyward. Kimimaro wasted no time in taking advantage of the confusion and massacring any unfortunate Infected that happened to be within bludgeoning range. Ino watched the sky dragon, awed.
Someone's come to save us, she thought.
And just as the thought passed through her mind, the unidentified shinobi riding the giant dragon released a meteor shower of bombs upon the horde of Infected. The sky lit up with the rain of fire and smoke, and all around her Ino could hear the blood-curdling screams of the dead and the dying. Back to back, Ino and Kimimaro clawed their way through the fields of blood and fire, desperately holding onto something as their eyes remained ever skyward.