Craving Death
Sounds. There was a steady beep, beep, beep, the sound of movement, rustling cloth, and soft, vague voices. The more I concentrated on the voices, the clearer it became, and the more I could hear. Breathing. Coughing. Clanging.
I was also becoming more aware of the harsh lighting. Even with my eyes closed, the lighting made me want to cover my head. It was far too bright.
“She’s doing fine, Kakashi-San. You got her here just in time, I think. Any later, and I don’t think she’d be as lucky.”
“How long will she be hospitalized?”
“A few weeks, perhaps. Depends on if she has anywhere else to go that can offer her good care. I heard the Uchiha Clan has proposed taking her in.”
I winced upon hearing that name, and suddenly started to remember what had happened. My thoughts were a little fuzzy. I felt tired, and though there was pain, it was distant. Dizzy, I was dizzy too. It was hard to concentrate.
“Seishiryu?”
Reluctant to do so, I forced my eyes open. I was in a white, sterile room, hooked up to machines. There was a needle in my arm, and I was strapped down, unable to move. I sought out faces, trying to make sense of how I got here.
Kakashi sat on the windowsill, a book haphazardly held on his knee, gaze on me. “You’re awake.” He seemed surprised.
“W-where am I?” My mouth was dry. “I-thirsty.”
A sponge was offered to me. “As you are hooked up to fluids,” the woman leaning over me said upon seeing my expression, “you aren’t dehydrated, and you can’t move right now. So here, this will help with your dry mouth.”
I sucked on the sponge for a moment, and it did help. Letting it go, I turned to look at Kakashi. “Wh-what . . . ? How? Where?”
“You’re in Konoha. You’re safe.”
I waited patiently for the rest of my answers, but he just sat there, watching me. “Oookay. And? How?” My mouth didn’t really want to cooperate with me in forming coherent sentences, it seemed. I could barely feel my body.
“You need to rest, Shiryu,” he told me, unknowingly calling me my father’s nickname for me.
My breath caught painfully in my throat, chest tightening, and I turned to look at the ceiling. I could feel the hot, wet tears seep from my eyes even as I stared unblinkingly at the ceiling. “Why . . . ?”
“Why, what? Why are you here?” He set the book on the windowsill and stood, ambling toward my cot. “You needed medical care.”
“I didn’t want it.”
“And you think that would make things better?” His expression, voice, even his body language was intense when he sat on the edge of the cot. “Your whole family sacrificed themselves so you could get away. You said that. They gave their lives so you could live. Not so you could die in the woods alone.”
“I don’t want-!”
“Well, that’s selfish!” he snapped, eye burning down at me. His hands were clenched into fists at his knees. “Throwing away their sacrifice, their deaths, because you don’t want to honor their wishes, because you want to give up–that’s not for them. That’s for you. And that’s selfish.”
“Kakashi-San, she-!”
“No! She needs to hear this.” He didn’t even look at the nurse, just glared down at me. “You said it yourself. Your family, they died so you could get away. Right?”
I nodded wordlessly.
“Do you want their deaths to be for nothing? Do you want them to have died for no reason?”
“N-no, but-!”
“Then don’t give up. Don’t throw away their lives.” His words, and voice, softened. “Your family wanted you to live. Your family wanted you safe. You came out of a massacre, because your family did everything they could to save you, and you want to throw that away. Instead of honoring them, their lives, their deaths, you want to dishonor them, and yourself, by giving it all up. That’s the most selfish thing you could do.”
“T-then what . . . what do I do?” The words were broken, soft, and I winced at the weakness they implied.
“You live. You listen to the medics. You get up, out of this bed, let your body heal, let your mind heal, and you don’t dishonor your family by giving up. They gave you the most precious thing they could to keep you going. They gave you their lives. Don’t you think they deserve honor?”
I nodded.
“Then honor them by getting up. Getting better. Living your life to the best of your ability. Don’t throw it away, and give up, because it’s hard. I know it’s hard, and everyone will tell you it gets easier. It gets better. The truth is, it doesn’t. It doesn’t get better. It doesn’t get easier.”
My heart stopped.
“But you get stronger. You get better. And you never forget to honor them, and honor the lives they gave for you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Honor them, Seishiryu, because they can’t honor themselves anymore.”
I nodded again. “O-okay,” I breathed. “I . . . I’ll honor them.”
He stood, nodded once down at me, and strode to the door quickly. Pausing at the door, without turning, he said, “I hope you do, and I will too.”
He left his book, I thought, looking from the door, to the windowsill. “He left his book.”
The medic glanced toward the window carelessly, looked away, then lunged for the book. “I-uh, I’ll get it to him.”
Honor them. But . . . how . . . how do I honor them, if they’re not here with me? What if I forget them? What if . . . what if I let them down. . . . It was becoming more foggy in my head, though. I turned my head toward the window so I could look out into the world, but my eyes were too heavy to look for long.
Honor them. What if I’m not the right one to honor them?
The Uchiha family home was huge, and foreign, to me. The room they put me in, not far from the room Sasuke was in, didn’t feel like home. There was a big window that looked out into the forest, and that felt . . . that felt okay. But everything else just felt wrong. Foreign. Scary.
The bed was smaller than I was used to. So was the room. It made me feel a bit claustrophobic. This place . . . it wasn’t home.
“Seishiryu?” A small, soft voice behind me made me jump. Sasuke stood behind me when I whirled. He ducked his head slightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I glared at him. “What do you want?”
“I-I just . . . wanted to make sure you’re, uh, o-okay.”
I glared a moment longer, anger burning through my head. “No, I am not okay. Why would I be? My entire family is dead. I lost my village. I’m stuck in a village I don’t believe in. Of course I’m not okay!” But the anger left as soon as I yelled at him and saw his wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare. I felt depleted, drained. “I . . . I didn’t mean . . . I’m sorry.” I started to turn away.
He grabbed my wrist, pulled me toward him to grab me in a hug. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for scaring you.”
For a moment, I leant into the hug. It was nice. Then I drew away, because I couldn’t trust myself not to dissolve right now. “Don’t,” I breathed. “Don’t do that. Not now.”
“What? Hug you?”
I nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t right now.”
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t cry.”
He started to reach for me then, but I drew away, and he stopped. “O-okay, but . . . if you don’t cry now, you’ll never be able to stop when you do.”
“I don’t ever want to.” I backed away from him more. “I’m fine. You can go now. I want to go to bed.”
“Alright, okay. Yea. I’ll . . . uh, I’ll let you go to bed now. Goodnight, Seishiryu. If you, uh, if you need anything, I’ll be right down the hall.”
“Thanks, but . . . I won’t need anything.”
Dark. It’s so dark. Yellow eyes. Chasing. Running. I can’t run fast enough. I can’t get away. I can’t escape. Yellow eyes following.
Blood. There’s blood everywhere. Everywhere I look, dead bodies, and blood. I am suddenly running again. As fast as I can, through absolute darkness. I see nothing. I hear the pounding of my own heart. I hear footsteps behind me. Getting closer. Faster. The ground I ran on started sucking my feet in as I ran, slowing me down. More, and more, the ground pulled me in. I couldn’t pull my feet out fast enough. I couldn’t run.
Then there they were. Glowing yellow eyes, right in front of me, and white, skeletal hands, reaching for me.
I screamed, jerking away. It was still dark, but I was sitting straight up in a bed I didn’t recognize, in a room I didn’t know. I jumped out of the bed, clawing at the air around me, at my own skin, trying to break free of . . . what? There was a window. I leapt out of the window in a single bound and took off running, as fast as I could, toward the forest.
Something was chasing me. The yellow eyes were following. I could feel them. Chasing, getting closer. I wasn’t fast enough. Still.
I ran, faster, pumping my legs as hard, as fast as I could. My nightgown caught on a thorn, and I panicked, screamed, tearing at the nightgown. A wet, thick rrriiipppp, and I was running again–until I was tackled, pulled to the ground. I screamed, fighting, clawing at the arms pulling me down, kicking, punching–fighting as hard as I could, screaming.
I was wrestled down to the ground, pushed down, held immobile, but I continued to scream and thrash. A hand pressed to my mouth, hard, muffling my screams. Over that, I heard, “Se! Se! Stop! Stop! Se, it’s me! It’s Sasuke! STOP!”
My heart was pounding. I was panting, gasping for air, sobbing at the same time. All I could hear was blood rushing through my ears, my muffled screams, and my labored breath. It took several minutes before I heard myself saying, over and over, “Please, please, please.”
“Se, stop, it’s me! It’s just me! Stop!”
And I could see him again. Black eyes, staring frantically down at me. Once I saw him, and recognized him, the panic faded, slowly. It was just him. Just Sasuke. No yellow eyes. No Katsu. Nobody else. Just Sasuke. “S-Sasuke?” His hand muffled my voice.
“Are you okay? Are you . . . better?”
I nodded, and he moved his hand.
His left cheek was bleeding. So was his lower lip. He wiped at his lip with the hand he’d had against my mouth, slowly sitting up. “Why did you run from me?”
I looked away. “I . . . I thought . . . you were . . . someone else.”
He seemed to study me for a minute. “Nightmares?”
“Yea.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
I shook my head. “No.”
He slowly got to his feet, moving a little jerkily. Then stretched his arms up high, then to the side. “Are you okay?” He finished his stretching and held a hand down to me.
Not really sure I wanted to move just yet, I shifted my weight just enough to pull my nightgown up to my knee. It hurt, and felt like it was bleeding. It was. I’d ripped open the stitches from at least the cut on my knee. It felt like I’d ripped open my hip, too. And definitely my hand.
“Oh!” He knelt back down, reaching out to touch my leg, but stopping himself just before he touched the blood. “Y-you’re hurt! You need to see the medic. I need to get-!”
He’d started to stand, so I grabbed his arm with both of my hands. “No!” That came out a little loud. “Please. No. I . . . I don’t want to go back to the hospital. Please.”
“But . . . you’re bleeding.”
“Please, Sasuke. Can . . . can we just pretend this didn’t happen?”
He hesitated. “But . . . you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I promise. I’m fine. I don’t need to go back to the hospital. I don’t want to be monitored again. Please.”
He stared at me with a thoughtful expression, and I could hear the wheels turning in his head. “Okay,” he spoke slowly, “if you agree to one thing.”
“What’s that? Anything.”
“Let me carry you back.”
I jerked. “W-what? No! I don’t need-!”
“Nii-San! Okaasan!”
“Okay! Okay!” I sighed. “Okay.”
He turned and knelt. “Climb on.”
“You can’t . . . you’re not strong enough-!”
“Climb on,” he said louder, more insistently.
I whined, but wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He stood, and wrapped his arms around my legs, pulling them around his waist at the same time. Then he was running, and I held on to him. “I’ve got this. Just hang on!”
The run back was quick. It felt like I’d reached much further than I actually had, but I really hadn’t gotten that far. “You . . . you caught me pretty fast.”
“Well, you got stuck on the thornbush, and you aren’t really that fast to begin with, being injured and all.” He sounded a little winded, but other than that, seemed fine. “Your limp slows you down a lot. Hold on tight, okay?”
“Mhm.”
He let go of my legs to climb in through the window. And we both tensed.
Itachi stood in the doorway, watching. “Are you two okay?” He immediately saw the blood on the nightgown and dropped his crossed arms to his sides, rushing forward. “You’re bleeding.”
“I-I’m fine.”
Sasuke set me down, gave me a look, and turned to Itachi. “She tore her stitches.”
I gave him a dirty look. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
“You don’t have to, but let me take a look at your injuries. I’ll take care of it.”
I hesitated, but nodded. “Okay.” I sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled the nightgown up to my knees.
He knelt, checking the cut out. “It’s not bad. Let me see your hand.” He held his hand out for mine, gave it a quick look over, and sighed. “I’ll get the bandages.” Standing, he strode to the door, leaving it open.
“I . . . I have an idea. Stay here!” Sasuke shot me a smile before darting out of the room. “Nii-San, wait!”
The forest, it really was beautiful. At least that was an upside. Standing at the window, looking out, I felt a little more at ease. It made me feel safer. Better. Not by much, but just enough. And it was beautiful out there. With a sigh, I closed the window. It wasn’t a good idea to have it open if I was going to have nightmares like that.
“Se?” Sasuke came to stand beside me at the window. He had a cup in his hand. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I . . . I’m okay. I just thought . . . it was safer closing the window. So I can’t run out again.”
He nodded, turning toward me, leaning one shoulder against the window. “I agree. That’s better than leaving it open.” He held the cup out to me. “Drink.”
Well, that looks familiar. “Is that . . . ? That stuff you made me drink, two years ago?”
Another nod. “Yes. It’ll make you feel better.” A slight smile. “It’s not as hot as it was then. I promise.”
I took the cup, gave him a look. “Are you going to make me drink it, like last time?”
“Yes.”
With a heavy sigh, I brought the cup to my lips, took a small, tentative drink. Okay. It’s not as bad as before. It’s still really spicy, though. “What is this made of? It’s like actual fire.”
“It’s . . . a family recipe.”
I glared at him. “Do I have to?”
“It’ll make you feel better. I promise.” His smile widened. “And I never break my promises.”
Another heavy sigh, and I tipped my head back and drank. There wasn’t that much of it this time, but it was still spicy. I finished the cup and handed it back to him. “This is gross. What is it? Seriously!”
“I’ll tell you someday.” With that, and a big grin, he turned and bounded out of the room.
Alone again, I sat on the bed, staring at the floor, then the wall. It took me a couple minutes before I could lay back down. I just didn’t feel safe. Or comfortable.
A knock made me look toward the door. Sasuke stood there. “Can I come in?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, slowly ambling toward the bed. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”
Shaking my head, I pulled the blanket up higher. “No. I don’t want to talk.”
“Are you feeling any better?”
Actually, yes. Strangely enough. “I feel fine.”
“Better than before?”
“Yeah.”
He very lightly touched my hand, picking it up to look at it. Just as lightly, he ran his fingers down my hand.
It didn’t hurt. My eyes widened, darting toward my hand. The cut is gone! I yanked my hand away. “W-what? How?! It-it’s gone!” I flashed a quick glance up at him.
“It’s a good family remedy.”
“What? H-how?!” I twisted, pulling my nightgown up to my hip. The wound there was also gone. The stitches were still there, just like my hand, but the cut was gone. I stretched, testing each muscle, each injury, that had been there. No soreness, no pain. Nothing. Everything felt pretty great, actually. “That’s not possible!”
“It’s a family remedy.”
“E-everything’s healed!”
He nodded. “It’s what happened last time I made you drink it too. Don’t you remember?”
“That’s what healed me? I thought. . . .”
“That you healed by yourself? No! The remedy did it.”
“But . . . Itachi-!”
“I told Nii-San that I was going to give you the family remedy. He went back to bed.” There was a smile on his face still. “I think we should too. Are you okay now? Do you think you can sleep?”
No. But I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
He smiled, and hopped off the bed. “Goodnight, Se. I’ll see you in the morning!”
Watching him leave was almost . . . painful. There was a huge part of me that didn’t want to be alone. Why did I want him to stay? He’d reached the door, and was almost out of the room, before I called out to him.
He stopped, turning toward me. “Yea?”
This was a weird, hard thing to ask. I wanted to ask him to stay, but I wasn’t sure how. Or if I could. Staring at him, seeing his face, eager to help, willing to listen. . . . “N-never mind.”
He blinked, brows furrowing above those expressive, black eyes. “Se? If you need something, tell me. It’s okay.” As if to soften words that didn’t need softened, he smiled at me, a soft, gentle smile.
And I crumbled. It felt like my stomach filled with swirling water. I wanted to run again. “I just. . . . Would you . . . ?” I couldn’t look at him, so I focused on the foot of the bed. “Would you . . . stay?” The word came out soft, breathy, barely audible. “Ju-just for . . . just for a little while.”
When I chanced a glance up toward his face, he had a sort of dazed look. He blinked, then smiled, and jogged toward the bed. “Y-yea, sure! I’ll stay.” He climbed into the bed, wiggling under the covers. “But scoot over, because I get the side closest to the door.”
That made me roll my eyes, but . . . I did it. “Just for a little while. Until I fall asleep. Okay?”
He nodded, settling back against the pillows. “Okay. I’ll stay.”