thirty-three.
[when the moon was red]
Kami, it hurt.
The world was a dizzying fusion of colors and an underwater muffled scenery. Maybe Shisui was calling his name, or maybe he was screaming his pain—either way, he wasn't sure. All he was certain of was the continuous throbbing of his chest and the warm splatter of blood against his face as he delivered death all around him.
It kept him on the edge of his sanity.
Itachi didn't know exactly what was hurting—if it was his head, his ears, or something inside his chest cavity. But it hardly mattered, not when he reached her in record time, throwing aside his rifle and catching her in his arms just before she hit the ground.
The fall broke his momentum and they skidded to the nearest wall, his back slamming painfully against the hard surface. Hinata moaned at the impact. The sound made his heart ache though he had to push it away, choosing to save the self-hate for later, and ducking behind the nearest pillar to take cover.
"Hinata," he called firmly. He could feel the apprehension biting at his seams as he rushed to bandage her massive wound with a ripped section of his shirt. His hands were strikingly red. "Hinata, can you hear me?"
She didn't answer.
Desperation began to creep in. "Hinata," he repeated.
Pearlescent eyes lifted groggily to meet his. "Sho—sa."
"I'm going to get us out of here," he promised her then. Itachi didn't stop to think if it was doable—getting them out, that is. The operation was still undergoing and their numbers were dwindling though reinforcements had yet to come. And he couldn't leave his squad or his men behind, even if the gnawing voice in his head begged him to, even if the warmth seeping into his clothes screamed at him to—he was a major first before he was a boy.
Ever so slowly, Hinata shook her head, cutting his thoughts to an abrupt halt. "I—I am okay," she insisted quietly. And it broke his heart.
Always the selfless little flower. And he, the shadow over her sunshine.
He should have never brought her here.
Itachi wondered if Hinata was aware of what she had lost, if the way her shoulder shifted was her trying to reach for him when she no longer could. If the absence of her right arm had shattered her—just as the obliteration of the other surely would.
Itachi blamed himself then.
He whispered an apology in her hair before hefting her up in his arms. "Keep your eyes open," he ordered.
A nod was her only answer.
The next few events were things he could recall doing if he tried hard enough, but these were things he had done without thinking. Distinctively, he was aware of the quick order he had given out to hold their positions. He remembered the weight of Hinata in his arms and the stench of blood filling his nostrils. Yet none of it truly registered well in his mind. He was abandoning his post to take her away—far away from the battlefield to find her a medic that would stop the bleeding—why was she still bleeding?
She would die from blood loss, his mind whispered to him. But he couldn't understand what it was trying to tell him. And his mind shouted. It screamed at him because years of experience was supposed to have him prepared for the worst-case scenario such as this.
The boy whose childhood had been robbed was still somewhere inside.
And he wanted to come out.
"Shosa," Hinata muttered weakly.
He felt the ground beneath his feet, suddenly anchoring him back to reality.
"Hinata," he responded softly. The contrast of the adrenaline coursing through his veins and the warmth he tried to give her was stark, but it didn't seem to matter.
The little sunflower blinked slowly. "Is the—is the battle over?"
"Yes," he lied. "It's over."
She would never know that it was a lie, he convinced himself, even as the guilt of lying to her was eating him up alive. He would do it again in a heartbeat if given the chance.
Or perhaps, if time could be turned back, he would have never taken her under his care.
"Shosa," Hinata whispered, "it's t-too quiet."
Itachi wondered then if this was punishment. After all, who could endure this pain? Why else would he be going through this torture? If it hadn't been for his foolish decision to take her under his wing, she could still be intact right now. She could have been enjoying a normal life like she deserved. Instead, here she was, picked apart by the heavens, all because of the sins he could never atone to. It was all his damn fault.
And yet he couldn't help but feel selfish, because as much as he wanted her to live a normal life, he could no longer imagine a world without her.
a/n: Hello! I'm so terribly sorry for the late update. You see, I've started studying as an architecture student, and I expected that it would be a lot of work, but I didn't expect it to be THAT much. So, I've been very busy. But with the whole pandemic thing and now that it's summer, hopefully I can whip up some chapters soon! But bear with me. It's been so long that I've lost my writing touch.
Anyhow, how are you guys? I hope you are all safe during this pandemic, and let us all enjoy the comfort of our homes with reading. Lastly, I would like to commend all frontliners at this time. If you are a frontliner, be it a cashier or a janitor, a retail worker or in the medic field, whatever that may be, if you are out and about working in this difficult time, I thank you for your service.
