She can feel the weight of the rain breaking her as she struggles down the path, her feet unwilling to move, the pain greater than anything. She can taste the ash in her mouth, feel it in her pores, beneath her skin. She can't see—instead she moves blindly, tripping occasionally. Finally, she falls, hard, and lies there, her face pressed into the mud, her arms and legs sprawled awkwardly. Shards of bone poke through her skin, cleaned white by the rain as she lies there, unable to summon up anything any longer.
arms and legs akimbo stretching oddly from where she fell wrists and throat opened to the world mouth sewn shut eyes wide and staring she has watched as her mother causes herself the most pain that she can imagine she has watched as she falls falls falls into her own blood blood blood blood blood
An ANBU team on the way back from a mission find her. They have passed the smoldering wreckage of what was once a village, a forest, seen the newly created cliff on the mountain side. She looks up into a bird mask, and wishes to die.
The leader carries her back, gently. The medic tries to heal her, but something stops him—her own chakra is molding against her wounds, pressing them out, stopping the healing. She will die soon—oh god, she just hopes it is soon.
And then she is back, in a warm bed in the hospital, an IV in her arm, bandages wrapping her in white linen skin. Someone is holding her hand, stroking her hair, singing a song in the quiet, and she feels comforted, even though she doesn't open her eyes.
Weeks pass, and she is out, having healed, trying to forget everything that happened. They aren't letting her on missions anymore—not after what happened. Not for a while, anyhow. She hasn't told them what happened, but they know what the site looked like, they know that no one else survived, they know that innocent people died. Naruto goes away on missions, Ino goes away on missions, and she is left all alone, that is until he comes knocking.
She opens the door, surprised to see him there in the rain. His coffee-colored hair is soaked, hanging down his back in his customary style. She invites him in, making tea quickly before coming out and sitting down in front of him. She makes small talk for a while—he isn't very talkative, it's mainly her doing the talking, until he stops her.
"What happened?" He asked, his voice cutting through hers like a knife.
"Excuse me?"
"On that mission. Something happened. I saw it. I saw you. Who did that?"
Something catches her attention. "You saw me? When? In the hospital?"
He smirks. "No. I found you and carried you back."
A bird mask flits across her memory.
"Oh. Thank you. You saved my life."
"It didn't seem to want saving." She pales, remembering what Tsunade had told her.
"Thank you anyway."
"What happened?"
She fidgets, playing with her cup, then her hair, not looking at him.
"Things got…out of hand, I guess. I can't remember it very well.
Liar, his white eyes scream, and it's true. She can remember every single second of it, every burning, torturous second. She will never, ever forget.
"What jutsus do that to a town?" He asks, his voice accusing.
"Jutsu." She whispers it, but he catches the word, and his eyes widen. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Hn." He gets up and walks out, the door closing quietly behind him, leaving her sitting there, remembering the feeling as her body burned and suffocated and was torn apart and crushed and everything else all at the same time.
That night, she sits in the bathroom between the toilet and the sink, with the lights on, and screams until she has no voice.
This time, no one helps.