"It's strange isn't it, how quick and easy it can be to give someone a piece of paper when it can take three long arduous days just to get to them," Izumi says.
Her deep exhalation marks the completion of their mission. Part one that is. They are yet to cross paths with Mid-West town for the final assignment.
"There wouldn't be a need for ninjas if things were that simple," Shisui answers.
For two long hours, they trek across a multitude of roughened terrains that challenges even the most experienced of ninjas.
But when escorting civilians, shinobis must be tactful with their directional approach. They are mindful of their chosen paths, a fine balance between uneven grounds and the shortest route possible without impeding on enemy territory.
On Honoka's end, there is a mixture of concentration and fierce determination that surrounds her presence. She is remarkably quiet for someone who is overtly struggling with the physical exertion. But Izumi gets the uncanny intuition she may be hiding other disconcerting matters.
When Honoka falls behind, Izumi signals a break.
"We can rest for a bit and then keep going," she says.
"Izumi, I thank you for your consideration, but we have stopped three times in the past hour. I believe it is impractical for the mission if we keep stopping like this. However, may I suggest an alternative?" She pauses, and when Izumi does not speak, she continues, "I have done a bit of calculating. If we reduce the speed of our walking instead of stopping all the time, I am very certain that we will get to our destination faster."
Honoka's impassive tone is heavily congruent with the blank vacantness of her expression. Even as she speaks, Izumi is unsure if there is ever an ounce of emotion attached to the seriousness of her evaluating sentence.
"That has pros and cons, but if you feel up to it, we can give it a go," Shisui says.
He approaches, but remains an unusual distance from Honoka. Izumi senses a strand of perturbation between the two, but cannot find any conclusive evidence that rules out her instinct. Perhaps her intuition is overreacting?
They resume the expedition, but it is not long before they are interrupted again.
Izumi's initial focus sits between the jagged paths and their civilian. The steady pacing is a satisfactory outcome for the group, particularly on Honoka's side. She is no longer struggling against the fluctuating ascent and descent of the mountainous terrains.
But the change in pace may have unveiled a set of discomfiting behaviour. Though Honoka is visibly healthy, her fingers have suddenly clenched itself against her lower abdomen. There is an unsteady gait to her walk that indicates a stitch, but when Izumi observes closely, she sees a trail of blood that pools against her ankle.
Instinct flares in one startling move. Izumi slows her pace and closes the distance between them.
"Honoka, is everything okay?"
Her tone is quiet with varying layers of apprehension and vigilance.
For a fleeting moment, Honoka is looking unsettled. But when her gaze tracks Izumi's watch to her ankle, she gives a reassuring nod.
"Yes, nothing I have not come across before," she replies vaguely.
Then she hastily wipes the blood with the hem of her long skirts.
For the many months Izumi has known Honoka, lying does not exist in her vocabulary. It may be that Honoka's mind is hard wired in a way that prevents dishonest behaviour, however, that does not preclude her from speaking in non-descriptive means, or in a manner that is indeterminate.
Izumi does not wish to probe, but something tells her that Honoka is not being entirely forthcoming. The issue may be ordinary to her, but anything that revolves around Honoka is more often than not disturbing.
"Did something happen between you and Shisui?" Izumi asks quietly.
"May I clarify that? Do you mean some sort of incident?"
"I guess you could say that."
Honoka is staring contemplatively.
"There was no negative occurrence that you were not present at."
Izumi awaits elaboration, but Honoka does not speak.
"Are you still thinking about what happened at the restaurant last night?"
At the comment, Honoka is looking distinctively crestfallen.
"If you mean whether it is weighing on my mind, I believe so. I am yet to apologise directly to him for the misunderstanding but I have not found an opportunity to do so. Every time I approach him, he is always preoccupied with something else."
Her comment ignites a brigade of pitying emotions. Honoka may not have the social skills to fully comprehend the situation, but Shisui is most certainly avoiding her. It is unfair on her part, but Izumi wonders whether this is something that warrants active intervention. She does not want to enact things out of pity. Her friendship with Nanami is what keeps her mind silenced and her actions suppressed. The more she interferes, the more she is afraid of jeopardising the relationship between Nanami and Shisui. But the repercussion is Honoka's continual suffering.
"I don't know what Shisui is thinking, but I know for sure that-"
She halts her sentence. Not intentionally, but by an external force.
In one swift motion, the debilitating wave of fatigue settles.
Not now. Dammit. Not now
From the pits of her stomach, she feels the vibration and the knotting of her core. Then comes the sharp pulsating sound from somewhere in the background.
"Izumi?"
The noise stops.
She is back at the caves.
Back in the underground. The rotting vegetation, the dismal atmosphere, the claustrophobic tension.
And when she opens her eyes, she is lying against the coldness of a long stone bench. The mass of stars are watching like sinister bright dots. It encircles her and terrorises the swirling mist that is her chakra.
"Izumi!"
The voice echoes but she loses it somewhere in the midst of that loud pulsating sound.
And the pain arrives. Excruciating, tortuous, unbearable pain. It gnaws at her insides and tears through every organ of her body.
"Izumi! Izumi, can you hear me? Come back, please! Izumi."
The pleading is familiar. Faint and agonisingly heartbreaking. But she follows it like a guided light amongst the blackness. It takes her through the emptiness and carries her past the tormenting pain.
"Izumi! Izumi!"
The sound increases in decibels. The voice palliates her pain and rouses her from the inky world.
"Izumi, are you okay?"
She sees him. Itachi. And he is holding her protectively against him. She wishes to speak his name, but the more she pushes, the faster her conscious slips.
Without warning, she leans forward and expels a thicken black liquid from her mouth. Her strength dissipates into several episodes of retching, until her clothes are drenched in the blackened fluid and the blue skies are now covered in a dark starry canvas.
Beneath the waves of unconsciousness, she can feel Itachi's securing embrace and the very warmth that is keeping her alive.