In a Box
Tonight, you arrested my mind
When you came to my defense
With a knife in the shape of your mouth
in the form of your body
With the wrath of a god…..
Three days after the womb is destroyed, the mission begins. Asuma, Kakashi, and I are to travel to a small clearing in the bowels of the Hidden Leaf Forest, and meet up with Raidou and Genma there in the intestines. We've been ordained to take down a small group of foreign nin who seem to have built a base that is carrying out suspicious activity there.
The Special Jonin were sent discreetly weeks prior to make sure things don't get out of hand before our arrival. The timing is to be precise like the strike of a double headed snake. Meet no demands, take no prisoners. We meet outside the village before dawn cracks open and bleeds her glowing guts.
I'm the first to arrive, and in the burst forth red of the sky I'm half crazed. My hair wild and tangled, eye like half rooted plants raw and growing untamed. Between my thighs still burns with the memory of warm oozing liquid. My hips still feel ground into the cement of basement floor, and my back feels burnished with the pain of arching.
I can understand Kakashi's hands shaking. Because even if you can force the mind to forget, the hands always remember. My fingers tremble with the remembrance of the feel of that quickly extinguished life. The jellied flesh that is squished between my pulling fingers. The hardness where there should have been softness. The curl of severing veins and cords like nooses twining around my wrists as I gaped and pulled and gaped wider and pulled.
The only thing that refuses to come now are the tears. And the emotions because after I rocked my dead baby in my arms, I bashed those useless things over the head and stuffed and locked them in a treasure box in my heart. And nothing on this Earth will ever be able to pry that box open.
I shift my weight and the rucksack of supplies on my back burns, the straps cutting into my shoulders chafe. Just as well. This skin has forgotten a tender touch. There's nothing like being once full and now irrevocably empty. There's nothing to explain away the It of being barren.
Kakashi arrives before Asuma surprisingly. I see him coming from a long ways away, the silver hair shining like a beacon. I expect the rush of breath knocked out of me, the pull of heartstrings, the flood of hormones, the…something. But nothing comes. The box inside my chest rumbles aching to be opened, may'be, but the locks are welded fast.
Up close the shell of him looks worse for wear than I do. A sweater that has unraveled to the point of patched up holes and mix-colored stitching. His naturally pale skin looks the color of milk, now. And the permanent marker black under his pensive eye would terrify me if there was fear left to be felt. He swallows slow and hard, mouth dry, jaw jerk, and his hair points in all different directions like hands desperate for a touch of help from anywhere.
He stuffs those trembling hands in his pockets, and they probably have not stopped trembling since they danced that fire dance around themselves while Anko pounded his face open. He looks at me and right through me at the same time. And I know he is seeing everything. His eye gives a nervous twitch, but the expression there is oddly, blatantly, calm, and the hatred rises up in me hot and fierce, and so strong that it almost moves me to take that clothed neck in my hands and twist until something gives.
His eyes are on the absence of Us, and his gaze burns the between my thighs where the memory of it is warm and alive chapped and beginning to bleed.
"What happened to……."
I turn away from him. Can't bear to answer. Can't bear to look at him. If I don't it won't hurt so much that God it feels like all of my joints are coming loose, and my bones are caving in, and my body's becoming collapsible. Kakashi doesn't finish his question. It dies in his throat like that bloody faceless tissue died in it's own juices, a red fish swimming then suddenly belly up.
My chest gets tight with ache. But it's a no go. The box there rattles plaintively.
When Asuma comes the air changes. He looks at Kakashi and they suddenly in their own universe are pulled magnetically closer together, charged. It doesn't move me. I stand back and watch their hatred, watch their blood boiling. When their foreheads almost touch I wish they would just do it.
Fight.
Rip each other to shreds.
Destroy.
Carnage.
And blood. But Asuma backs up, and his nostrils flair, his eyes are ablaze, but there's no malice in his mouth. There's a loose kind of smile that contradicts everything. The raw animal rage in Kakashi's eyes. The tight blood thirsty screams pouring out of his fist. They've reached an agreement. However one sided…..
"Let's just do our jobs." says Asuma. Kakashi says nothing, simply stands there glaring with those raging eyes. But Asuma turns to go at that. And as the village gates open, we head out, and he doesn't even look at me once.
We walk in total silence in single file. Asuma, me, then Kakashi. We stop every so often for a drink or the pull of nature calling. Then we set off again. By the time we reach the campsite where we're supposed to meet Genma and Raidou, night has fallen thick and black as gunmetal. And my belly is a bottomless basin retching and empty in my body. And my legs are falling apart.
The journey was not easy on feet that had already begun to swell in preparation of new life. The walk swelled them up again and at some periods it was painful enough to beg relief, but I wasn't going to give either of the men the pleasure of seeing me unable to carry myself on the strength of my own two feet.
At the campsite however, my feet make me regret that I had not stopped to rest at least once on the journey. Genma and Raidou have already started a fire and smoked some fish by the time we arrive. While they exchange gruff low voiced pleasantries with Asuma and Kakashi I hobble over to the makeshift fireplace and sit down on a log.
The fish are blackened almost tar black and cooked whole. They've been pierced through with spear like sticks and are positioned high above the flames pointing up nobly like an army of dead soldiers. For some reason the thought and look of it disgusts me. But not enough to deter the ravenous emptiness lurking in my gut.
Getting my feet out of my shoes takes effort and pain. Peeling the cloth away sends jolts of something so viral I almost scream. I suck in air and blow it through pursed lips instead and when they are bare I examine the damage. Swollen and fat like two faceless blobs of meat. The skin cracked and bloody in some places, bulging with blisters in others. Nothing life threatening.
I shrug off my pack and instantly the muscles there seize up nice and tight as if all along they had been waiting for just the right moment to ambush me and catch me across the neck. I knead my shoulders a little, then grab for the fish stick. I bite into it without hesitation and hunger is the only thing that keeps me eating. The charred scales stick to the insides of my mouth like flakes of dried paint. They taste dirty and woodsy. Hot and hard to swallow.
The others come down and sit around the fire. Except for Kakashi who stays back resting under a giant Eucalyptus tree. His eyes burn sallow and pure in the firelight like holy fire, but his face is slumped against his hand. His backbone seems broken. Spirit dwindling.
Asuma sits next to me, but he tucks his big bulky legs in under him, canning himself in. And he seems faraway. The shadows cast a darkness like hard raw onyx under his eyeballs and the flames dance in his beard, and he looks like some otherworldly god of war or wrath, but he won't look at me.
The silence is like packed dirt at a grave sight. It packs the dirt down over our heads. It slithers up our spines and cakes under the nails and fills me up to the brim, to the eyeballs with dirt. With the sight of my own grave.
Genma scratches his arm awkwardly. His eyes I notice are brown. Like Kakashi's. The ones I grappled for by the lashes and begged to devour me. Kisses. I'd want kisses. But the box beneath the breastbone is locked. It's beginning to rust and chafe.
"So what's up with him?" Genma asks blinking those brown-like-his eyes and chewing a piece of pine needle softly between his lips. Genma nods to Kakashi where he is against the tree. He's resting his head back, the mask is down, the cloth crinkling like a shed skin around the base of his neck. The crescent of his naked throat is bare, and pure white like ivory marble. A swath of vulnerable pulsating flesh. I understand his need to hide it. His need for the vial of liquid in his hand. He puts it to his lips and takes a swig, the other hand knotted hopelessly through his hair.
Raidou slaps wildly at the air. "Mosquitos." he swears. "Leave him be." Asuma mumbles at Genma without looking at him. He grabs a stick of pierced through fish and picks at it with his eyes. Genma clears his throat. The silence persists and for some reason Genma's dark eyes cling pleadingly to mine, but I shove them off. The fire crackles and pops between us and I imagine the screaming of the scorched fish.
"Sooo….may'be we should talk about the mission." says Raidou, a helpful, hopeful smile straining the side of his face that still remembers how. I nod and try not to stare at his injuries. At the thick beautiful bramble patch of raised flesh and soft thorns and tattered pathways charting his face like someone's world map. And remember that single stripe of imperfection marring that sultry eye. I take a bite of fish and swallow hard.
Raidou folds his hands diplomatically in front of him, and commands attention with an art. He leans forward and his gaze pierces me, and unfolds Asuma's legs, and quiets Genma with it's one drooping overly creased eyelid.
"The way Genma and I figure, we all head back to the village tomorrow." he says. "Tomorrow?" asks Asuma mildly. "But we just got here today." "Yeah, sorry for that inconvenience, bro. But we're in way over our heads here." Genma quips. He smirks kind of politely, and looks at me again. I stare back blandly and Raidou keeps talking.
"We've been watching these so called ninja. They've got a huge…and I mean huge organizational thing going on. There's no way we could take them down ourselves. It's highly improbable if not impossible." Raidou says, much more kindly than it needed to be said.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Kakashi squirm. He drops the vial and an amber colored liquid spills out into the grass. For a moment illuminated in the moonlight, the traces of it moistening his lips looks like gold. Then he tilts his head.
"But we've got two of Konoha's best Jonin here." Asuma says through gritted teeth. Though I'm not sure if he's referring to himself and me or himself and Kakashi. "We're outnumbered like five million to one bro. Plain and simple." Genma says, his palms spread for emphasis. He spits the pine needle off to the side.
"Who knows how many people they've got in that base. We spied at least fifty , more or less, give or take you know what I mean? I don't know about you, but I think our chances are plenty slim against that. Skill or no skill, you know? Really we should leave right now, but since you guys just got here…you know fatigue and all….we probably wouldn't make it back in one piece…say they should hear us making noise and attack. Raidou and I are pretty sure they know we're here, it's only a matter of time before they find us out. So we leave first thing in the morning, head back to base, mission report, and request a bigger squad. That's all we can do for now." Genma says.
Then finally he shrugs and a thought occurs to me that comes out without restraint. "So basically we're sitting ducks."
All of them look at me, except for Asuma, who drops his head to stare darkly into the fire. After a while Genma looks off and Raidou stares down rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. I look over to the eucalyptus where Kakashi's sitting, but he's gone. Something like rusted over panic beats against the walls of my chest, but it hurts too much so I don't let it in. I press between my breast with my hand, trying to make sure the box is still safe.
"Don't mull it over." says Asuma, but for the first time he's looking at me and I'm not sure what exactly he's referring to. Then as quickly as our eyes meet, his turn away and he says "Let's just get some sleep and hightail it out of here in the morning."
"Agreed." says Genma.
Raidou nods and the meeting is over. The remaining fish is quickly devoured and while the men beat out the flames I take my pack, my shoes, and my screaming feet, and drag everything over to a corner of the forest clearing. I peel open my pack and unfold the canvas I brought. The nails, hammer, rope, and blankets.
I put up the tent as quickly and efficiently as my rebellious feet allow, and when I finally crawl inside of it, I'm sure that I'll never take another step on these feet again. Outside the tent everything is dark and quiet. I look up through the tarp roof, and half expect to see the thin shells of silvery stars imprinted in the dark toffee sky like chocolate chips the way they always do in the movies. But all that I see is ugly yellow taut canvas staring back at me, and the occasional shadow of a tree branch dancing low and vibrant.
Without the fire I feel a chill in my bones. I burrow under the blankets, I've got and try to stretch my legs out. My feet whimper and I wince. The night will be long and endless and restless and painful. All dark quiet and ugly yellow tarp.
I hear the sound of the zippered together tent opening being yanked down before I see the outline of his body behind the yellow fabric. I quiet and almost feel panicked, and almost stop breathing, but something about the gentle push of the foot and then the body through the opening like a curious child quiets my fear.
"Kakashi." I breathe as he kneels down, and creeps towards me in the darkness. "What are you doing?"
I can hear him moving around the tent on all fours, but he doesn't answer. The spicy masculine scent of him begins to kiss the air, as their fingers intertwine something in me kicks desperately awake.
I hear him down in back of the tent. "Kakashi?" I beg him. He parts the blanket. Pushing them from my legs. When he lifts one of my crumpled feet I can see his eyes in the darkness so large and full of something. Something hungry. He puts the foot to his lips, the battered toes in his mouth. Tasting, soaking, soothing, blessing the foot. The sensation is so strikingly pleasurable that I gasp and jerk away from him.
Suddenly my heart rate is up. And I can't control my breathing. His eyes won't get off of me. "I'm sorry." he says quietly. But I know that he is not apologizing for this moment. For this. "I'm sorry." he says again.
He takes my foot again and kisses it, then the other. Kneads them. I relax. Lie back, close my eyes. Let this unexpected pleasurableness, this tenderness, this craving take me to someplace else. It is a while before I realize I'm crying.
And he is kissing, kissing up my legs. Mumbling "I'm sorry." to my knees. His hands follow his lips and I shudder at the power in his touch. The frantic bottled up want let loose. A quiet electricity that charges him and me. Us. He kisses up my thighs between and around the memories and worships me there with his hands. When his lips are caressing my stomach he mumbles brokenly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." and his tears press against the battered womb, the emptiness.
"It's alright."
The love we make then is so powerful it is painful. It transcends us and ourselves. And overwhelms and breaks and heals. Connects and rips asunder. It desires and devours. And comes and comes and comes.
And Kakashi wipes the tears from my eyes with his sobbing kisses and says "Please don't cry. I won't ever let anyone hurt you like that again. Believe me….if something happened to you…I…would…die."
I keep my arms around him, my smile pressed into the solidity of his chest, where I can hear his heart beat just like old times. Old loves, old nights like this one. I can hear his heart beat like the promise of a paradise, in just the same way a seashell to the ear promises a beach.
"These tears are…not for the reason you think……Kakashi I love you. More than…I don't know…anything. And if anything ever happened to you I would die."
And it's by the time we drift off to sleep, Kakashi holds the treasure box in his hands, dexterous fingers carefully undoing the lock.
Yeah…sorry for the late update on this ppl but here it is and there u are reading it, eh?!? Lol. Also sorry about the slight lemon with no warning there. But I'm almost certain you guys didn't mind it hyuk, hyuk, hyuk. Oh, I'm so dirty. *slaps self on the wrist* Bad self. Okiedokie…moving on to less of the self punishment thing the next chapter is the promised ASUMA chapter….Ready to get inside his head?
