Author's Note: I'm ALIVE! :D Sorry I took so long again! I'm sorry, I really am. I got caught up with a thing we call "college". But I worked hard for this chapter, I swear. So now, here you go. Let's find out if Katana's still alive, yes? XD
Enjoy and Review!
Destiny of the Cursed
Chapter 48: Lifeline
Flashback
"So you do care." Gaara said in a whisper, eyes narrowing and jaw clenching, and by the increase of stiffness in the Uchiha's body, it seemed that he was right. "Why are you so afraid of showing that you care?"
"Oh, like you do?" The end of the question was a dangerous snarl as Sasuke finally dropped the façade and revealed the anger burning underneath, the fear and denial flashing through his eyes. "Look at you", he mocked bitingly and every word that came out was like added fuel to Gaara's burning ire, "discovering love for the first time and clinging on to it like a desperate man. Emotion has made you soft, Kazekage. Why would I want to follow your example—"
"That's a pathetic excuse and you know it. Why can't you stop being insensitive for even just a moment? Katana is your teammate and she considers you one of her closest friends. She forgave you for everything you did—don't tell me you can't spare her a part of your stone cold heart."
"It wouldn't matter—"
"Yes, it would, you wretched bastard—"
The argument escalated to heights both young men didn't know was possible, their voices rising, turning more and more heated as their tempers flared. Rage twisted the redhead's insides into tight knots, anger and insult burning within him along with the twinge of pain that he disregarded gruffly.
The rational part of his mind reminded him that this was one of Katana's friends and she wouldn't exactly appreciate a dead Uchiha's blood in his hands; it reminded him to keep his temper in check lest he do something rash like tear the man apart. The other side of him—the enraged, overly loyal, bloodthirsty side—all but demanded him to give the first blow, because how dare he insult Katana, much less when she wasn't in a condition to defend herself. She'd forgiven everything he did, defended him even when he didn't deserve it and the bastard still had the guts to brush her off as someone that didn't matter.
"—at all. Don't fuck with me Sabaku—"
"—swear to god, Uchiha. I will break your bones until you—"
It wasn't until a shrill, mechanical noise erupted from behind them did Gaara realize exactly what he was doing, the grip of the sand tightening with every tense second as his temper rose. If he hadn't been distracted in time, the Uchiha's leg would've really been broken into an ugly, bleeding mess. Dropping control of the sand just as he saw the dark-haired boy pale readily at something he saw, Gaara allowed himself to take a sharp inhale and release it impatiently, trying to regain his composure before he turned around and checked what the commotion was all about. His aquamarine eyes focused on the heart machine, on the straight, undisturbed line that seemed to go on for ages and the rage boiling in his veins vanished, the fear that took over making his blood run cold.
The horror of the situation finally clicked into his mind and suddenly, Gaara couldn't breathe.
Suddenly, everything right seemed to crash and burn; everything was too fast and too slow and nothing was right. There was panic and there was fear and there was his heart stuck in his throat along with the taste of bile. His earlier nightmare flashed into his mind once again, but as he blinked, it wasn't just a nightmare anymore. It was real.
"Medic." The word escaped his mouth as a barely audible noise and for a split second, he didn't know what to make of it. When the idea sank into his brain, Gaara forced his frozen limbs to move and, stumbling ungracefully, he pushed aside Uchiha—who was still staring in terror at the bed—and ran out, bellowing out the word and looking like a man who just saw Hell itself.
"MEDIC!"
End Flashback
There was shouting everywhere, medics bustling back and forth and engaged in heated conversations, and the area surrounding Room 312 was nothing short of utter chaos. A thick, heavy tension settled on the atmosphere and every whisper, every anxious hiss sounded like an explosion, even in the midst of the noisy ruckus.
'Where's Hokage-sama?'
'I don't know! They said she'd be here—'
'—can't understand why it stopped—'
'—sure you've tried everything? What about—'
There was a raging war inside Gaara's head, his mind torn between flashes of incoherent ideas and the sharp panic and the ringing, white silence that flooded the inside of his skull and was slowly welling up in the cavity of his chest. There had been a mantra in his head before, one he recited over and over again but now couldn't seem to recall. The words had left him and there was nothing more but the dull, throbbing pain that his heart kept creating and every thought seemed to have blurred out into a jumbled mess of Katana, Katana, Katanakatanakatana.
"What happened?" Gaara looked up to see a breathless pink-haired medic towering over him, Sakura's green eyes flashing with thousands of barely-contained emotions. He blinked once, glanced at the scene unfolding behind her and saw Tsunade and the Hokage's assistant rushing inside the tent. Vaguely, Gaara wondered how long he had been spacing out but Sakura sank to her knees onto the ground below to get into eye level, and the thought was forgotten then and there. "Gaara", she prompted once more, gentler this time, "what happened?"
"I don't know." The words spilled out in one, tight breath and suddenly his throat felt uncomfortably dry, the impact of what he said weighing on him like a ton of bricks. He didn't know anything, he didn't understand what was going on; he was painfully helpless, just when it mattered the most. How could someone with so much power as he had be rendered so useless during such a critical time? Clenching his fists to reign in his slipping self-control, Gaara inhaled sharply and recited, "We were in the room and she'd been fine. She flat lined without warning. I didn't know what to do. I came to get help as soon as it happened. She had flat lined and I couldn't do anything." He was repeating himself, which was odd, because he never repeated anything he had already said. It was as if his mind had left him for good and he was fumbling for something to say, feeling lightheaded and unstable. "I'm not—I don't—"
"I know you didn't." Sakura shushed calmly, putting a firm hand on his arm. At once, warm chakra seeped into his skin and Gaara's breath stopped short, just then realizing how unbelievably painful his chest was and how close he was to a full-blown hyperventilation. "It's okay." Sakura breathed out, smoothing a hand over Gaara's clammy forehead. "Everything's going to be just fine. Katana's going to be okay."
"You don't know that." Gaara said raggedly, red-rimmed eyes snapping up to give Sakura a despondent glare. Grimly, Sakura noted the unnatural pallor of the redhead's skin, looking like he was about to throw up the contents of his stomach. There was a lost quality in his gaze, the aquamarine eyes dull and faded as if all hope was lost—which, given the circumstances, seemed like the case. "Don't waste any more time hovering over me." Gaara bit out sharply as soon as he found the words again, though the tremor in his hands didn't vanish. "Katana needs you more than I do—"
"You're unstable; I can't leave you like this." Sakura argued back, unfazed by the death glare the Kazekage sent her. She spent her childhood subjected under a similar glower from an Uchiha when she'd been growing up; Gaara's half-hearted glare wasn't even close to scaring her. "Right now, what Katana needs is for me to keep her boyfriend conscious and well until the time she—"
"I'll take care of Sabaku. Stop floundering and go inside, Sakura."
Both shinobi turned their attention to the intruder, Sakura's jaw dropping in surprise just as Gaara settled for a pained glare. "Sasuke!" She gasped, shocked into standing up. Briefly breaking eye contact with her teammate, Sakura disbelievingly acknowledged the crowd of people standing behind the Uchiha, each and every one of the Konoha Eleven wearing an expression of alarmed worry.
"Guys." Sakura called out, trying to get everyone under control while simultaneously making sure that they didn't crowd the Kazekage too much. "Everybody, just calm down, alright? Take a seat and try not to make too much noise. Tsunade-sama needs every bit of her concentration and panicking won't do us any good."
"Is she gonna be alright?" Tenten dared to ask, tight-lipped and grim as she maneuvered a teary-eyed Ino into sitting down and sat beside the girl. "What happened anyway?"
"I—" Swallowing heavily, Sakura snuck a look at the silent redhead, whose head was bowed so low his back was almost completely curved, "I don't know." She admitted finally, flinching when Ino gave her a look of complete hopelessness. The rest of them looked away, unable to stomach the gravity of the situation. Even Neji lowered his eyes, his expression darkening and his hands shaking in the slightest by his sides.
"Doesn't matter what happened." Kiba interrupted with irritable impatience, vibrating with anxious energy and clearly in no mood to give up just yet. "What matters is that you can fix this, right Sakura?"
"Of course." The pink-haired kunoichi said instantly, jaw clenched in agonized determination. She sucked in a broken breath, eyes going misty at the lack of response that followed but courageously blinked them back and scowled. "Stop looking you're attending a funeral!" Sakura snarled at them, startling most of the group into gaping at her. "No one's dying today. Katana certainly isn't; not while I'm here." Turning on her heel, the girl stalked away and charged into the tent.
The silence that enveloped the group was stale, heavy and utterly suffocating.
Katana woke up to a sea of white space and silent coldness.
There was nothing but brightness and clean, white emptiness that for a moment, the girl wondered if she was concussed for the second time around. "Where am I?" She asked out loud, pausing at the strong, clear voice that escaped her. Not in pain, she concluded quickly and confirmed it with a flex of both hands, not injured too. Standing up, she grimaced almost automatically as the same blank space welcomed her vision. There was a nagging voice inside her head, growing louder and louder as the seconds passed and still nothing about her environment changed or shifted. Try as she might, there was nothing in mind that helped her remember how she got here in the first place or even why she was there. Every memory prior to her arrival seemed to be wiped out clean.
"Hello."
The greeting made her jump back, warning bells ringing, and the girl mentally swore up a blue streak as she found out the absence of her sword in her person. Glaring with a scowl on her face, she turned to meet the newcomer with her arms raised in defense. Almost instantly, her glare faded away, making room for the surprise that reflected off her suddenly slack face. "You—" Katana began in disbelief, jaw dropping in a combination of annoyance and disguised relief. "It's you. Right, of course. Who else could it be?" She sighed explosively, glaring at the figure with her arms crossed. "You scared me. And here I was thinking I got stuck in some weird hellhole again. Go on, then. Insult me and then tell me where we are."
Katana sighed again and resigned herself to waiting impatiently. In front of her stood her doppelganger, the copy's piercing grey eyes—unusual, but Katana didn't have the time to question why it was grey instead of the usual black—blinking back at her in what seemed like genuine confusion. After a while, Katana herself fell into bewilderment. "What's wrong?" The kunoichi asked, her disgruntled expression morphing into one of concern. Furrowing her eyebrows, she took a hesitant step closer. "Hey, are you—"
"Yotsuki Katana."
Katana stopped in her tracks and the concern vanished from her face. "Oh." She said blankly as her earlier relief faded away and the wary tension in her system returned once more. The cold came back, twice as intense, and the vast emptiness suddenly didn't feel so vast anymore. "You're not my curse."
"Nice of you to finally realize that."
"Who are you then?"
"Can't you see?" The splitting image of her tilted its head to the side in an almost innocent manner that neither the curse nor Katana herself would ever do. "I'm you."
"You're aware that what you said doesn't make sense." Her voice broke at the end of the statement. Ashamed and swallowing back a troubled stammer, Katana balled her fists and glowered down the stranger, taking a defiant step forward. "Where am I?"
The latter simply blinked again. "Why ask me? You can figure it out yourself—"
Another step forward. "Tell me where I am."
"—if you only just observe and—"
"Tell me!"
"—accept what you see."
Closing the gap between them, Katana roughly seized the collar of her lookalike and yanked it towards her until they were face to face and Katana's sharp, ragged breathing echoed in their ears. Behind the evident outrage and burning temper, there was fear and dread lurking in her gaze. The brunette bared her teeth in a vicious grimace and hissed lowly, "Where Am I?"
Dull grey eyes stared into hers as the mirror image remained as impassive as before. "You're dead."
"How long?" Sakura asked tersely as she entered the tent, only breaking her stare at the unresponsive body to glance at a nearby med-nin.
"Fifteen minutes."
"Fuck." The swear word escaped Sakura's mouth in a hiss as she expertly wove through the flurry of medics to get to the bed. Tsunade was standing opposite her, sweat glistening off the sides of her face and her mouth twisted into a tight grimace as she pumped her palms against Katana's chest rhythmically, allowing just a slight amount of chakra to seep through and help along with the process.
They had about another twenty-five minutes left to revive the patient, Sakura thought anxiously, for the average person could survive without a heartbeat for about thirty to forty minutes before the brain cells start dying from the lack of oxygen; even then, the probability of a successful resuscitation was only between five to ten percent. Anything more than forty was pushing it.
"YOU BASTARD!"
The Raikage's murderous yell exploded from outside and was followed by a deafening crash that shook the ground, taking everyone inside the tent aback. From where she was busy doing chest compressions, Tsunade cursed under her breath and glanced up and out in alarm. "Get the Raikage under control! Don't let him get in here!" The Hokage barked at her subordinates, swearing once more when the sound of panicked shouts was the only reply she received.
"I'll handle this, shishou." Sakura said abruptly, meeting Tsunade's piercing gaze in a split second. They shared a curt nod, the pink-haired kunoichi swiftly placing her hands in position just as the master medic took hers off Katana and ran out of the tent to deal with the ruckus. Sakura took in a sharp breath and for the first time, stared determinedly at her teammate's frighteningly pale and emotionless face.
"You're not dying on me, Katana." She whispered under her breath, feeling cold apprehension mix with her willpower. Her hands began pumping, once, twice, setting a pattern and falling into it automatically. The uproar outside faded into nothing but a buzzing in the background, Sakura's jade green eyes focusing on Katana. "I'm not letting you."
Gaara's body moved before his mind could fully comprehend what was happening.
One minute he was sitting there with his head lowered and his shoulders heavy, Temari and Kankuro (who arrived into the scene just as Gaara felt his control slipping further and further away, and at the sight of their youngest brother shaking with the beginnings of a panic attack, Gaara's siblings all but encaged him in their arms, surrounding him with familiar warmth and fierce reassurances) stiff and tense on either side of him, and on the next, there was a bellow that sounded, startling everyone into scampering away, and Gaara sensed rather than actually witnessed the Raikage lunging for the Uchiha's throat. His instincts took over and his arm shot out, a whip of sand shoving Sasuke to the side just before the hulking man could get to him and snap his neck like a twig.
A chorus of alarmed yells and protests reached his ears, muted and the words strung together, everything feeling as if they were underwater and time has stopped.
"YOU BASTARD!"
A Yotsuki was a terrible force to be reckoned with, a roaring beast of speed and power with enough rage and pain to actually go through with murdering someone in cold blood. Gaara knew first-hand that when the man set his fiery glower on someone, there was no stopping him; and as it turned out, Uchiha Sasuke had the misfortune of being the Raikage's target. Sasuke had enough wisdom and instinct to look for the nearest escape route, dodging one attack after another sent his way, but stuck in a crowded place full of injured people, he found himself unable to get away, at least not without putting the other patients and mass of medics in harm's way as well.
"RAIKAGE-DONO!" Tsunade yelled lividly, making her timely appearance from inside the tent and looking like she was about to break someone's skull in irritation. "Stand down!" The Hokage's order seemed to snap everyone out of their respective trances and without wasting another second, the Konoha Eleven sprang into action and positioned themselves around the Uchiha, forming a protective barricade around him, much to Sasuke's disbelief. The Raikage's personal convoy took it upon themselves to restrain their Kage, physically holding him back despite knowing that the effort wasn't enough. The rest of the crowd—medics, Gaara's siblings and Gaara himself—stood by the side, crouched into defensive stances.
"What's all this about?" Tsunade demanded again, unflinching even as the tall man snarled out his burning ire.
"Don't even try to protect him, Hokage!" A struggled inside the grip of his subordinates and everybody shifted stiffly, pinning their wary gazes on the behemoth of a man. "The medics told me everything. That scum was the last one seen inside my daughter's tent before she flat lined! What does that TELL YOU?"
The master medic turned her attention on the dark-haired boy, asking him with a tense frown, "Is that true?"
Mimicking the Hokage, every single shinobi cast their stare at the Uchiha as they held their breath for his answer, the Raikage's enraged onyx glower the most piercing of them all. From where he stood, Gaara tensed beyond control and he gritted his jaws together. 'Lie.' He hissed mentally, somehow knowing that any other answer aside from 'no' would result to a painful bloodshed, and shifted in his place in the lost hope that Sasuke would glance at him. The Raikage wouldn't stop for an explanation if he said 'yes'. 'Lie, you idiot. Deny everything.'
Sasuke blinked calmly, unaffected by the palpable bloodlust in the air. "Yes." He said and the whole situation erupted into chaos.
Several things happened at once. A broke from the several fists that pulled him back, sending the shinobi near him flying away, and charged with the single thought of Sasuke's broken corpse in his head. Shouts of dread filled the air as the shinobi watched everything unfold, the Konoha Eleven standing their ground in front of the Uchiha, their forms stiff with anxiety as they braced themselves, and Sasuke himself refusing to move an inch. Tsunade had moved as soon as she caught sight of the Raikage's advance towards the boy, falling into a desperate sprint to intercept the man but the redhead by the side knew there was no way she would make it before the Raikage had the Uchiha's fat head chopped off.
Gaara felt chakra flood his veins as his power burst forth, a thick wall of sand springing up in front of the group protecting Sasuke and tendrils of sand wrapping around the Raikage's dense torso in an attempt to slow him down. Gaara teleported himself before the wall of defense, squaring his shoulders and meeting the Raikage's bared snarl with an authoritative glower of his own. A's meaty fist came down and it collided with a sick crunch resonating in the area. There was a chorus of horrified gasps that dissolved into silence and then the sound of someone's body hitting the dirt as they fainted was heard.
"Enough." Gaara spat with a steely edge in his voice as he glared the bigger man down, feeling nothing but weariness and resignation at the whole mess. The Raikage's bleeding, broken knuckles had rammed into the wall of sand inches away from his head, missing his face only by a stroke of luck, and the redhead could feel the murderous intent and anger rolling off the man in suffocating waves. The older Kage was heaving, putting effort in reigning in his outrage and it was only when Gaara saw a flash of anguish cross the Raikage's narrowed eyes did he realize that this show of violence was exactly how A expressed himself. This was the older man grieving for the life of his only daughter.
"Why?" A grunted out through clenched teeth, his body quivering with restraint inside the hold of the sand. "Step away, Kazekage. Why are you helping that lowlife?"
"He didn't do anything." Gaara reasoned. "What's happening right now is none of his fault."
"How would you know?" The Raikage growled out in challenge, his fury returning to the surface. "That brat ruins everything! He—!"
"He didn't do anything, I was there with him!" Gaara bellowed finally, his voice reaching a volume that people hadn't known was possible for the young lad. "We were both inside the tent, we hadn't been doing anything when she flat lined!" He'd never shouted out of anger before—not once since he became Kazekage—but with Katana's condition added into the equation, it seemed that losing his control was the inevitable result of it. In his rage, the sand accidentally shoved the Raikage back, the man thankfully stunned enough to forget to fight against the motion.
"I understand that you're angry but if you think for one second that you're the only one suffering with this situation, look around and think again." Gaara snapped, balling his fists and taking a fearless step forward. "With every moment you spend releasing your problematic temper, the one person who matters most is lying there completely helpless, and her chance of surviving is dropping into nothing!" His words echoed like thunder in the area and everyone succumbed into the sea of silence, shooting the redhead looks of brokenhearted pity and sympathy. He took a moment to compose himself, hating the prickling sensation in his eyes, and met the Raikage's desolate glare. "If you want to pin the blame on someone, blame me." He said curtly, ignoring his sister's low warning of 'Gaara, don't say that'. "I was the one she sacrificed her life over; you should be out for my blood, not Uchiha's."
He saw A's rage die down like an extinguished furnace, the tanned man's tight face falling into one of hopelessness and misery. As much as he sympathized with the man, there wasn't any time left to waste and with this in mind, he turned to face Tsunade, nodding sharply, and watched her disappear within the tent again. The wall of sand behind him crumbled down, revealing twelve faces whose expression ranged from speechless to melancholic.
"I can't lose her, Kazekage." The Raikage rumbled out in a rough whisper between them, just as his right-hand man—Darui, Captain of the First Division, Gaara recalled—had talked him into calming down and taking a seat. "I lost my daughter once, I can't lose her again." He sounded absolutely wrecked and Gaara felt his initial nausea return, fear and grief slamming into him and leaving him weak in the knees. He forced himself to look away, training his bloodshot eyes at the ground instead, as Darui led the older man towards a faraway tent, keeping up a litany of meaningless reassurances.
The redhead closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his frayed nerves despite the exhaustion and hopelessness bearing down on his shoulders. No one's dying today. Sakura's words echoed in his head but the relief he'd been waiting for didn't come. There was too much doubt, too much to lose…and the situation at hand was too horrifyingly realistic to brush off optimistically.
The whole thing felt nothing more than a twisted, hellish nightmare.
"You're dead."
"You're lying." The words flowed out, swift and sharp without missing a beat, even as Katana felt her brain short-circuiting at the revelation. The statement was the only logical thing that could explain her location and lack of memory but the girl was adamant with her denial. She swallowed with difficulty, the ball of cold dread all but solidifying in her throat.
The lookalike blinked once and took a composed step forward that had Katana releasing her as though her hands were burned and staggering back on unsteady feet. "I'm not." The split image reassured and only served to make Katana's stomach churn unpleasantly. I can't die, Katana thought breathlessly and she voiced out just as much.
"Why not?" The childlike curiosity in her lookalike's tone was slowly but surely driving Katana to the brink of insanity. There was something incredibly wrong with the situation at hand; it felt like being stuck in a nightmare, repetitive, unending and cruel, wearing her sanity down until she's breaking apart at the seams. She couldn't have died, she couldn't; there was something, something she had to do, something she had to fulfill first. A task, a responsibility or a duty or something else, like…
"A promise." Katana's heart stopped to a stutter and a rush of breath escaped her. There was an odd sort of relief that accompanied her remembering of that detail. "I can't—can't die…because I have a promise to keep. I can't break it."
"To whom did you make that promise?"
Katana's face fell at the query and she clenched her jaw in frustration. "…I don't remember."
"Pity." The lookalike said without remorse and proceeded to turn away.
"Wait!"
To her surprise, her mirror image actually halted in its step, craning its head back to look at her with an infuriatingly blank gaze. "Yes?" It asked again using the same detached tone of voice that made Katana want to flay something alive. The lookalike waited patiently, its cloudy gaze pressuring the already frustrated girl into looking for the right words to say.
"I'm not—I mean, I-I don't—", Katana struggled, stubbornly pushing down on the feeling of nausea gnawing at her, "You can't do this." She ground out finally, forcing all of her conviction to color her words. Now that she remembered the promise she made—a grave kind of promise, the kind that weighed down on her, one that shouldn't be broken under any circumstances—there was no way she would ever give up on it. "I don't remember who it was but all I know is that I'm not supposed to die. I'm not. I can't. Don't do this to me, I can't break that promise, please." She added in the last minute, disregarding her pride in favor of making the lookalike understand the dire need to go back. Someone—whoever it was that was important enough to make her feel this level of desperation—was waiting for her back there and the need to keep the promise was a physically ache inside of her, painfully insistent.
The silence that followed her plea was agonizingly long but just as she was at her wit's end, the lookalike turned and faced her properly. It blinked an innocent blink and then whatever innocence left in its expression disappeared as it smiled, wide and sharp.
A shiver ran down Katana's spine.
"Alright." It said simply.
Katana grimaced suspiciously. "Alright?"
"I will make you a deal."
"A deal?" Katana repeated with a scowl of disbelief, her doubt increasing by the second, "What—"
"If, before the time runs out, you recall the name of the person you made a promise to, you'll be able to go back to the land of the living." Her mirror image continued speaking through her interruption and paused only to snap her fingers, the action causing an hourglass to materialize out of the thin air. "If you fail, you'll stay here and you'll stay dead."
"I'll be…stuck here."
"Yes." The lookalike confirmed happily, her grin not once faltering. "Forever."
Clamping down on her panic, Katana forced a broken exhale out of her nose. "And if I lie?" She asked lowly, bracing herself for whatever the answer may be.
"If you lie, I will know." The lookalike said, baring its teeth. "And when I do, I will make your stay here agonizing and unbearable. I will hurt you." It blinked twice and then the grin faded away. "Deal?" It asked calmly, as if it hadn't just threatened to torture Katana.
Katana took a deep breath. "Deal." She bit out, nodding in agreement before fear could get the best of her. The lookalike gave a manic grin of approval and nodded and the first grains of the hourglass fell.
"How long has it been?"
"Thirty-three minutes."
Sakura ignored the nervous murmurs of the other medics behind her back, blocking out any other detail that didn't involve saving her teammate's life. There were tremors that ran down her bowed back, her shoulders aching from being held in the same position for a long time and her arms were trembling with effort as she pumped on autopilot, her hands numbed from releasing chakra. Her face was chalk white, her jaw clenched tight and cold sweat ran down her face like rivulets, mixing with the teardrops she wasn't aware she was shedding. Nothing mattered anymore.
"Come on, Katana, come on." Sakura whispered fervently, blinking back the blurriness from her tired eyes. "You have to wake up. Come on." Her pumping continued on and on and on, her hands pushing and relaxing, pushing and relaxing, pushing and pushing and pushing, never faltering, not even when her vision began failing her, not even when the shaking of her hoarse voice became too evident to disregard. The clock kept ticking, thirty-four, thirty-five, mindless of the hysteria swiftly bubbling up in the girl's stomach.
"You have t-to…wake up." The pink-haired girl gasped through the tears that escaped, exhaustion and weariness and numbness and pain all piling up on her shoulders, weighing her down, but she forcibly shrugged them all aside. "T-They're waiting for you outside. A-All of t-them. Kakashi-sensei, N-Naruto, Sasuke-kun, Hi-Hinata—" Sakura listed all the names, punctuating each with a determined pump of her palms.
"Tenten." Push.
"Kankuro." Push.
"Gaara." Push.
"Y-You can't g-give up…on us." Sakura said breathlessly, her chest heaving with effort, "N-Not when everyone's counting on you and me. So come on, Katana." Push. Relax. Push. Relax. "Wake up." The clock of death moved again like a sharp, definite tick in Sakura's ears, striking another minute towards the inevitable.
Thirty-six.
The sound of glass shattering echoed in her head as something thick and black, like ink, exploded before her eyes, slamming onto the patient on the bed and sending everyone falling against the ground. Crystalline, needle-like shards flew everywhere, screams ringing out and the panic setting in as the machines began to shriek.
"Get away!"
"What happened?!"
"Detach all the machines! Be careful of the glass!"
"Get these things under control!"
"Haruno-san, are you alright?!" She heard one of the medics ask distantly before all of the details dissolved like a blur. From where she had clung onto the railings, her green gaze settled on the bed and Sakura felt all air leave her lungs. Her exhausted eyes watered and a sob broke through her quivering lips.
"Oh my god…" A desolate whisper, a broken breath, "Katana."
Nothing mattered anymore.
It had been thirty-three minutes.
One of the medics had fearfully informed them of the circumstances, that after it reached the span of forty minutes, the patient's probability of surviving was no more. It had been thirty-three minutes, the medic informed them agitatedly again, which meant that they had roughly seven minutes left to cling on to the false hope they all created within themselves. Almost everyone was present, surrounding the tent with the atmosphere of the mourning, and in its own little way, it felt, somehow, just like a funeral.
Kakashi had arrived into the scene not long after the Raikage's outburst. The jounin had unintentionally created his own messy ruckus, showing up as pale as death, with dried blood caking his clothes—a result of his sessions with the clean-up, hunting the rest of the white monsters that went into hiding—and wordlessly demanding to be let inside the tent. It took several people to restrain the man but it was fortunate enough that Kakashi himself was too exhausted to put up a proper fight. He was gently dragged to one of the benches and was coerced into sitting down to a seat adjacent to Gaara's. Their gazes had met then but the redhead could clearly notice the glassy quality of Kakashi's lone eye, foggy with pain and regret and staring right through him.
When Naruto had arrived, it had been almost twenty-five minutes since the beginning of the chaos and he showed up with red tear tracks marring his cheeks and his breathing in the brink of hyperventilation. "Sorry", the blonde hero had been gasping brokenly and his shoulders shook with the intensity of his grief, "Couldn't come immediately—I-Is she—Katana-chan, is she—please tell me she's not—Fuck, please tell me K-Katana-chan's okay." In a moment of boldness that took the Konoha Eleven aback, Hinata had stood up determinedly and pulled Naruto in a firm embrace, quietly shushing the hysterical shinobi and bravely holding it together even as Naruto choked down on a sob against her shoulder.
All the madness died down as soon as the thirtieth minute passed and now all that was left was the salty scent of tears in the air and the dark, heavy sorrow that tasted like ashes on their tongues.
"White orchids."
Ino Yamanaka's hushed voice drifted into the silence and everyone, including Gaara who had his eyes closed, was briefly tempted into glancing at the girl. From where she sat, Ino was curled up into a ball of limbs, her knees drawn up to her chin and her side plastered to Chouji Akimichi's, who had an arm wrapped comfortingly around her petite shoulders, his size dwarfing her. Everyone watched as the girl took in a shuddering breath and then tight-lipped, added, "They mean 'I will always love you'."
"Don't, Ino." Shikamaru cut in beseechingly, his grimace agonized.
Gaara found himself looking down and wishing the ground would open up and swallow him.
"Thyme", Ino barreled on, unfazed by her teammate's disapproving remark, "symbolizing her courage and strength. Violets, for her loyalty. Edelweiss, for her devotion." People's faces were crumpling, their eyes blurring with tears they thought had dried up. From a far corner, Kiba sniffed as subtly as he could. "Chamomile, for her unending patience. Arborvitae, because she was the friend we could count on. White clovers, because we'll always think of her, and Zinnias, because there wouldn't be a day where we wouldn't miss her."
"Ino-chan." Hinata looked horrified, her lavender eyes wide as they fixed themselves at the blonde girl. "Ino-chan, please don't do this."
"Pink carnations", Ino ignored her friend's plea, pausing only to smile a watery smile at the Hyuuga, "as a way to say 'Thank you', for all that she's done for us. Wouldn't you agree, Hinata? And maybe some hyssops and chrysanthemums and lilies—" She went on and on and on, reciting the flowers that were meant for Katana's funeral, until almost everyone was shaking with suppressed anguish and bitter tears of denial and pain were abundant once again.
"Dammit, Ino. Stop." Tenten hissed out as she wiped at the tears that fell down her face, her hands swiping furiously at the unending waterfalls of sadness. By her sides, her own teammates had reached out to hold her but she shoved away their imploring hands angrily, repeating under her breath, "Stop. Stop, stop, stop—"
"Ino." Chouji began worriedly and his grip on the girl tightened by a fraction, "Enough." He begged and braced himself as she finally broke apart in his arms, falling into nerve-wracking sobs.
Uncomfortable silence took over, until someone spoke up once more.
"Hydrangea." All of them turned to look at Sasuke, surprised to see the ex-avenger leaning against one of the trees. They'd almost forgotten that he was there at all. His face was carefully blank but for once, his voice was soft, somehow somber. "Perseverance. Because she always was a stubborn person."
Kakashi's lifeless chuckle rang out. "Roses." He contributed with a shattered smile underneath his mask, his dark eye cloudy with resignation. "Dark crimson roses, for deep sorrow. And forget-me-nots, of course."
"Dandelions. A whole field of them." Naruto choked out, rubbing at his painfully shut eyes and trying to get his crying under control. "I dunno what they mean, but Katana-chan always said she liked them best. She said they made her feel peaceful."
"Okay." Ino whispered hoarsely, swallowing to relieve her dry throat. She forced a smile at Naruto, her puffy, red eyes crinkling at the corners. "That can be arranged." She said and turned, everyone else following her line of sight. Gaara didn't need to look at them to know that he had all their attentions.
"Kazekage-sama." Gaara barely resisted the urge to flinch at the coaxing. "Is there something you want to add?"
He didn't look at Yamanaka. In fact, he didn't dare to look at any of them for fear that he'd lose it completely, it being the control he had over the dam of emotions he didn't allow himself to feel. Instead, the redhead trained his aquamarine eyes at the tent opening, wondering how everything had ended up the way it was. He focused on the feeling of Temari's calloused hand holding his in a firm grip and soaked in the warmth that Kankuro radiated by his other side. He didn't think he had the strength to speak up but the words that escaped him proved him wrong. "A blue desert rose." He said and heard Temari clamp down on a sharp inhale, no doubt fighting back her tears. Their unspoken question was not lost on him.
"It means", Gaara began, stopping when his throat closed up in its own accord and releasing a shaky breath at the painful thud of his heart. He closed his eyes despairingly. "It means…'I am lost without you'."
Glass shattered from inside the tent and all of it erupted into chaos.
She could not remember.
Grey eyes snapped up to anxiously watch the grains fall down to the other part of the hourglass, cascading down the smooth glass like rivulets of water. Katana inhaled fast, swallowing hard.
Her time was running out and she could not remember anything.
She swallowed again, even harder, trying to force down the bitter taste of fear from her mouth.
"Tick tock." The mirror image singsong-ed mockingly. "Time's running. So who is it?"
Katana clenched her fists, looked down on the invisible ground she was standing on and didn't answer. There had to be something. A minor detail, an insignificant smudge on the big picture that might give her a clue. Something. Anything.
An important person. Someone who mattered. A woman, a girl, a man, a little boy—
Young man, her brain supplied helpfully and she went with it.
An acquaintance, sibling, brother—no, friend, a best friend—
Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Whiskered cheeks. Wide grin. Naruto. Katana blinked in surprise at the revelation, memories of time spent with the blonde boy along with another girl—pink hair, green eyes, Sakura—flooding her head, and promptly racked her mind for whatever promise she might've made to him but came up with none. Frustrated, she shook her head, clicking her tongue in dismay and ignoring the smug hum that she heard from the mirror image.
A relative, an uncle, a father—Silver hair, mismatched eyes, a masked smile, Kakashi— "Tou-san." Katana breathed out in a stutter, feeling overwhelming relief wash through her as the memories flashed before her eyes.
"No." The mirror image rejected with a flat grimace. It glanced at the hourglass, noticed the less-than-half amount of the sand left in the upper part and the grimace turned into a maniacal grin. "Think faster." It suggested tauntingly. Katana turned her attention to the hourglass. There was only a quarter of sand left inside. With a deep suck of air, she pressed her eyes close and concentrated, trying to recall every single familiar face that she was once well-acquainted with.
Long brown hair, white eyes, Byakugan, Hyuuga. Neji—No.
Ponytail. Brown eyes. Frown. Thinking. Genius. Shikamaru—No.
Blonde hair. Lopsided smile. Apologies. Darui—No. Not him.
Fangs. Dogs. Akamaru. Kiba—Not him either.
Katana gritted her teeth. Green. Bowl-haired. Rock Lee—Glasses. Shino—Medic. Kyosuke—Face-paint. Kankuro—NO.
Someone who mattered, her mind chided her, someone significant.
"Ooh, one-eighth's remaining, this is getting interesting—"
A significant other, her brain snarled, someone you loved. Someone who loved you back. Love.
Ai. A tattoo. Carved on the left of his forehead. Red. Red hair, red like blood. Eyes. Dark-ringed. Bluish, greenish—no, aquamarine. Adoring. Gentle. Contented. Hands. Pale. Callused. Soft. Careful. Loving. Voice deep, smooth like velvet. Cinnamon.
Katana's eyes blinked open. "He's got blood red hair." She began hastily, looking at the mirror image with something akin to desperation in her gaze. "He's taller than I am, a head or so, he's got a tattoo, a kanji "Ai" on his left forehead and he's—"
"Name." It cut in smoothly, looking uninterested despite Katana's anxious glance at the hourglass that was seconds away from emptying. "Or it doesn't count."
"I know what he looks like, I know who he is, I just don't—"
"I need a name."
"I don't remember—"
"Looks like you're stuck here then." A sadistic grin.
"Fuck you." Katana hissed, further enraged at the ruthless cackles it released. She glared at the hourglass, watching as they fell in numbers—twenty, fifteen, nine, six, five—and hopelessly trying to remember the redhead's name. Mentally, she begged for the grains of sand to stop falling, begged for more time, for more sand—
Katana's breath hitched in realization. Sand.
Hourglass. A necklace.
A promise.
"I gave it to you so that you won't worry. Because no matter how bloody the war is, as long as I'm alive, the sand inside that hourglass will never stop swirling."
"It's a promise."
"It's Gaa—!"
The last grain of sand dropped, the clean emptiness crumbling apart under Katana's feet like dust, and she fell into the awaiting darkness.
The first thing he recalled feeling as Sakura's gut-wrenching sobs echoed in their ears was the breaking.
The breaking of his chest, as if seemingly splitting apart and open, spilling all the things it contained inside. Afterwards, Gaara simply felt empty. And hollow, unusually light, as if his feet weren't quite touching the ground any longer.
He didn't cry like he thought he would.
He didn't shed a single tear, not even when the Hyuuga girl and Yamanaka began shuddering violently with the forces of their sobs, not even when Naruto's horrified whisper of "no, no, no, no" was carried into the thick air, not even when Temari choked down on a disbelieving rush of breath, wide-eyed and unblinking as tears ran down the sides of her face, not even when Kankuro by his other side had looked down and dissolved into bitter swearing.
Gaara didn't cry, not even when Kakashi himself leaned back with a stuttering intake of breath and pressed his hands against his face tightly, as if he was trying to be invisible, or perhaps trying to suffocate himself until the heartbreak he felt was no more.
"K-Kazekage-sama."
The redhead raised his head languidly, tired eyes blinking at the anxious medic standing in front of him. "T-They asked for y-you." The med-nin stammered out and Gaara thought, 'what for?' There was no one waiting for him inside, not anymore. The person who mattered the most to him was gone and she was gone forever.
"P-Please, K-Kazekage-sama."
Gaara stood slowly, bones creaking at the action. He'd been sitting for too long. He made his way towards the tent, moving one careful step at a time and taking far too long to cross such a short distance. But in the end, it didn't matter anymore because the time had run out. He could spend an eternity trying to get into the tent and it wouldn't make a difference.
Not anymore.
It was never going to be the same ever again.
One of his hands rose up to tug the tent flap away, the movement mechanical, robotic, and he slipped inside without a noise. The inside of the tent was a mess of glass shards, disconnected machines and blood splatters. There were medics fussing over the apparatuses, moving them out of the tent; there was the Hokage's assistant brushing past Gaara with a terse "Kazekage-sama" and sliding out of the room. Tsunade was sitting slumped on a corner, her hands hiding her eyes and the tears sliding down her chin. On the bed, Sakura had thrown half of her body over the patient's as she murmured incoherently and sniffled and shook, hiding the brunette from Gaara's line of sight.
The young Kage closed his eyes in defeat and let out a sigh. "You called for me?"
His question made Sakura turn around. "O-Oh." She stuttered and wiped under her swollen red eyes, voice devoid of the grief that Gaara was expecting to hear. Perhaps she felt the same way he did, Gaara thought distantly. Empty and hollow and nonexistent. The pink-haired kunoichi straightened and stood up from the bed without a word, exiting the tent. Tsunade followed suit. Gaara opened his eyes and his confused gaze followed their forms until they disappeared outside.
Why was he called in then?
"Gaara?"
The redhead stilled. He remained unmoving for a second, and then two, and then finally, allowed himself to relax once again—
"Gaara."
'Stop it.' Gaara grunted mentally, clenching his hands by his sides to avoid clawing at his ears. Five minutes of her death and he was already hallucinating of hearing her voice. He wouldn't survive that long, after all. Swallowing to relieve his aching throat, Gaara closed his eyes again.
"Oh god, Gaara…"
"Stop it." He hissed out, hands coming up to cover his face and block out the light. "Enough." It was too soon; he didn't expect it to be this difficult, didn't expect that the sensations and memories would come to haunt him all at once. What was he thinking, going inside? He wasn't ready for this. The sound of rustling sheets reached his ears and his body shook with the intensity of his hysteria—everything was so realistic, it was driving him insane—and finally, Gaara took a sharp inhale and decided to break the illusion once and for all. He wrenched his hands away and his aquamarine gaze blinked open.
Gaara froze.
'No.'
There were grey eyes staring at him, hard, accusing, pained and relieved all at once, swiftly gathering tears. There was a pale face, twisted in a grimace and painted with healing bruises and cuts.
'This isn't…possible.'
There was Katana, standing on legs that hadn't walked for four months, a week and four days, dressed in nothing more than a hospital gown and bloodied, white bandages and looking for all in the world like a person who crawled out of a grave. Outside, a chorus of gasps followed by a new wave of grateful sobbing and wet laughter filled the area. 'Sakura told them.' Gaara thought as he stared at the brunette before him, his mind refusing to process the happenings.
"Gaara."
Pain bloomed inside Gaara's chest, a slow trickle of throbbing agony, like blood was flowing through his veins again after what seemed like a forever of hollowness. Something beat against his ribcage, banging once, twice, thrice, until he could feel his heart hammering rhythmically and his feet slammed back down on the cold, hard ground. "Katana." He replied back experimentally, the name rolling off his tongue the way cold water would, soothing, comforting and oddly right. "Katana." He said again and his heart broke at the choked off breath that the girl released.
"Gaara." She repeated and this time wasted not another second, stumbling on uncoordinated feet and not stopping until her body collided harshly against Gaara's and her arms—bandaged, bruised, pale and thin, but so, so warm—reached up to wrap tightly around his neck. "You idiot." Katana hissed in his ear, her tears hot and wet on his shoulder as she hugged him tight, her hold surprisingly strong for someone who just woke up from a four-month comatose. "You were dead."
Her statement made him want to laugh but instead of a chuckle, a rough croak escaped Gaara's mouth and his arms went to latch on Katana's waist. "You were dead, too." He said and just like that, Gaara's resolve shattered and his knees gave out, taking both of them down to the floor but neither cared. The redhead broke apart completely and he collapsed into tears inside Katana's arms, his face pressed against the warm skin of Katana's neck, feeling the comforting pattern of her pulse.
"You were dead." Katana bit out again, outraged and offended and trying so hard not to lose control of her already shaky voice. "You broke the promise. I told you not to die and you went ahead and you died. I had to save your sorry ass twice—"
"I told you to go away and you didn't. It was your fault, too." Gaara rasped defensively without any real heat, speaking through the tears as clearly as he could. He clutched her close and breathed in, focusing on evening his breath out. She smelled like antiseptics, blood and tears and though Gaara was aware that she was basically a corpse that woke up, there wasn't a part of him that didn't think she was the most beautiful sight in the world, so angry and swearing at him and breathing and alive.
"—your heart fucking stopped beating. Did you know that?" Katana demanded through her crying and though Gaara wanted to offer a consoling reply, he couldn't muster up the energy to speak, let alone to think beyond the thought of Katana's alive. "I was so terrified, Gaara—You keep doing this to me, you keep fucking scaring me, you bastard and I don't know what to do every single damn time and—dammit, are you listening? You were dead—"
"I don't care." Gaara exhaled softly, tiredly. "You're alive."
"Yes, I am." Katana snapped but the effect was lost as she as her voice wavered and the hands she had around his neck shook. Swallowing tightly, the brunette pulled back, glaring desolately at him. "You're lucky you are, too. Otherwise, I would've dug you out from your grave and brought you back to life just to kill you again." Katana ground out with an air of finality, meeting Gaara's bloodshot eyes with her own red-rimmed grey gaze. Reaching up between them, she wiped away the wetness from Gaara's ashen face and sighed raggedly as she knocked their foreheads together. "Don't do that to me. God, I hate you."
"That's okay." Gaara whispered, closing his eyes and feeling his heart thud painfully against his chest. He never thought he'd feel it again. "I love you." Tilting his head to the side, the redhead sighed as his mouth brushed hers, his eyes watering again when Katana kissed back firmly and without hesitation. The disbelief and doubt in his mind vanished completely and he all but melted against her, exhaustion making his bones feel like compact bricks. "I love you, I love you." He breathed out against her lips as the tears fell from his eyes. He held her face like she was going to break if he didn't support her, like she was going to wither away if he wasn't careful. "Don't ever leave me again."
"I clearly can't leave you alone." Katana grunted out, weakly yanking on the hair on his nape and eliciting a short, hoarse chuckle. "You have a dangerous habit of dying."
"You have a dangerous habit of falling into comas."
"You're an idiot."
"That makes two of us."
Katana chuckled in resignation, pulling away to look at him properly. They both looked like death, ghastly and pale and much too thin. The war had worn them down, changed them into someone they didn't use to be. But that was fine, Katana thought gingerly. All was fine, because they were here, together and alive and that was all that mattered. One of her hands rose to clasp the hand Gaara held against her face. "You're alive." She murmured in awe, doing nothing to stop the tears that were welling up in her sore, aching eyes. They didn't seem to want to stop. "We both are."
Gaara nodded. "Yes. I know." Pressing a kiss on her bandaged forehead, Gaara hid his face against her hair. "We're going to be fine." He reassured, thumb stroking a pale cheek.
"Yeah." Katana rasped in agreement, bringing her head down on his shoulder. "We're going to be just fine."
End Chapter
Author's Extra Notes: I think I'll have another chapter or two before I wrap it up. It was a pleasure writing this story. I can't believe you guys stuck with me until the end and I am seriously, seriously amazed by you guys. You made this all possible and you kept me motivated and I'm eternally grateful for your support and encouragements. Thank you so, so much. Love you all!