(no subject)
title:
note: character death! inspired by that episode of grey's with owen's past. :(
disclaimer: do not own Naruto
summary: "that explosion took a lot out of me." he glanced at his arm lying a few feet away on the bloodied gound. "literally."
“You should let me go.”
“Shut up.”
“No, seriously. You don’t know how uncomfortable this is-”
“I said shut up!” Sakura shouts.
She immediately regrets yelling when she hears her voice reverberating through the forest. It’s so dark with the moon barely penetrating through the foliage of black trees. All she has to use is a small flashlight. Not that she wants it. No. Not with the way it illuminates the redness on her hands and arms and his clothes and his neck.
“Sakura,” Shikamaru murmurs. He sounds tired, weak-though what else should she expect, with most of his blood soaking into the barren land beneath. “Stop.”
“No.”
“Sakura,” he repeats. “Stop.”
He shifts ever so slightly and she knows he regrets it immediately. His eyes squeeze shut as the pain from the rest of his wounds sink in. His gaze darts to his left and he stares at the stump where his arm used to be almost disbelievingly. He looks a little further and sees it a few feet away. Ugh. What a drag.
“Just stop,” he whispers half-heartedly. “You can’t save me.
“Yes I can,” she insists. “I can.”
“You have no chakra left,” he points out. “And you’re distracted. We’re in enemy territory, Sakura. You need to focus-”
“You’re right. I do need to focus, so shut up!” she growls. Sakura presses harder against the wound on his neck when she feels the flow of blood increasing. Tears well in her eyes but she holds them back. She can’t possibly wipe them away when she needs to keep her hands on his injury.
“Just let me go, Sakura”
“No!” she yells. “You just need to hold on a little longer! Help will come! Katsuyu is getting help. You’ll be fine, Shikamaru.” She smiles at him. Her resolve breaks and she doesn’t hold back the tears. They cascade down her dirtied face and drip onto his clothes. Neither of them can see the tear marks though, with his blood staining through. His blood. Sakura stifles a whimper. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry, Shikamaru.”
Shikamaru manages to look confused. “For what?” When she doesn’t answer, he understands. “Ah, so you’re admitting defeat then?” He smiles. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t really want to be saved, to be honest.”
Sakura chokes back a sob. “Don’t say things like that!”
He would have shrugged if he could. “What?” He looks back at his arm, making out the black swirls of half his ANBU tattoo under the layer of blood over it. Shikamaru grins wryly. “That explosion took a lot out of me-literally.”
“Don’t make jokes like that,” she orders harshly. In any other situation, she would have clenched her fists, but right then and there, she had to keep her grip steady. Not too soft. Not too hard. Shikamaru could bleed out. “You were never very funny.”
Shikamaru’s smile doesn’t fade as he closes his eyes. “See? You’re talking about me in past tense already. Are you going to let me go now?”
“Not a chance-”
“Sakura, please.” She nearly flinches at the desperation in his voice. Sakura darts her gaze away from his. “Look at me, Sakura.” She shakes her head and focuses on keeping him alive. “Sakura, you need to let go.”
“But-”
“Sakura.”
Slowly, reluctantly, she lifts her head and meets his eyes. Her face crumples at his pleading stare.
Just let me die. Don’t make me suffer. Please.
“I’m so sorry, Shikamaru,” she says for the umpteenth time, the pressure of her hands lessening.
“Troublesome woman.” He smiles at her. A genuine smile. He raises his remaining arm. He struggles along the way, but succeeds eventually. Tenderly, he brushes his thumb across her cheek, smudging the tears with the dirt. “Stop crying already.”
She chuckles weakly. “O-okay.”
“Now let go, Sakura.”
And she does. Slowly. Very slowly, she removes the pressure from the wound and the blood begins spurting out. Unable to watch, she meets his eyes and smiles, struggling to show him some warmth in his coldest moment. She takes his hand and squeezes it. He squeezes back, though not as tightly, and she sobs. She finally fully let’s him go when his grip slackens entirely. She raises a hand to his face and closes his eyes.
I’m so sorry.