#saiyo

“You should go.” Tenzo levered himself into more of a sitting position. He clenched his jaw against the pain as Saiyo tossed the unused bandages and tape back into the medical kit. “I doubt that was the last of them.”

Saiyo shook her head and checked her weapons pouch. “Probably not. Can you walk?”

The shallow grunt wasn’t reassuring, nor was the way that Tenzo’s eyes drifted shut. Fear washed through Saiyo. Forest sounds grew distant, and the world narrowed to the tiny space between herself and Tenzo. It felt like dropping into a pool of ice water, and chill bumps erupting along Saiyo’s arms. Panic flashed red at the edge of her vision like a wild animal howling with a primal fear that threatened to overwhelm her logic.

Saiyo pressed her fingers against Tenzo’s neck. Brown eyes opened and tried to focus on her face, but it took several attempts. He frowned. “I gave you an order.”

“You gave me a suggestion,” Saiyo countered, trying to keep her voice light and playful. “I’m choosing to ignore it. Let’s get you up; we need to keep moving.”

Frowning at the wound on Tenzo's side, Saiyo zipped his chestplate back over it. The pressure would help stop the blood flow if nothing else. Putting an arm around his back, she braced her shoulder under his armpit. Lifting the man to his feet was impossible without chakra, so Saiyo spent the tiniest fraction of her reserve to steady the extra weight.

Either the jostling or the pain woke Tenzo from unconsciousness. Agony laced his dark eyes like poison as he took in the scene around him. Pulling away, Tenzo steadied himself on a tree with one hand. The blood had drained from his face, leaving him ghostly pale. He took another shallow breath and let out a gunt of pain before focusing on Saiyo. “Do you have any soldier pills?”

Under normal circumstances, Saiyo might have laughed at the question. Now, she swung her pack around to dig through the contents. It took only a minute to find the small box that portioned out the emergency backup that all Anbu carried. She offered it to Tenzo, and he dropped two of the pills into his hand before handing the last to Saiyo.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to take two at once,” Saiyo cautioned, tucking the third into the pouch at her hip in case she needed it later.

“It’ll be fine.” Tenzo popped both of the sticky orbs into his mouth and chewed, releasing the chemicals into his body. He shuddered, then let out a soft sigh. “Trust me.”

Trust you, my ass, Saiyo grumbled under her breath, swiping at the sweat on her forehead again before it could sting her eyes. Fat lot of good that did me.

Tenzo had lasted for maybe an hour, running on the fumes of his body’s energy. The soldier pills had given him enough to get away, but not back to the village. When he’d collapsed, nothing Saiyo did brought him back around. There had been nothing to do except take the final soldier pill and pray that would be enough to get them both back to Konoha.

Twenty hours later, Saiyo’s muscles felt like they’d been made of water. She had tried to check on Tenzo once an hour, but by the end, she wasn’t sure of the time any longer. Continuing to move forward required all of her energy. Tenzo rested like a corpse against her back, his blood leaving a sticky streak between her shoulder blades. Don’t think about it, Saiyo told herself. One foot in front of the other. Just a little further.

When Konoha finally came into view, Saiyo wanted to cry with relief. She didn’t, of course, but the desire was there. Her body was too exhausted to give anything else. The hospital was silent when Saiyo crashed into the shinobi wing through a secondary entrance. A nurse appeared almost immediately, asking dozens of questions that Saiyo had no answer for.

The room where the woman led them was cold and sterile, smelling of antiseptic and death. Saiyo lowered Tenzo’s body to the bed, surprised to see how much blood splattered his side. His face was paler than the sheet and clammy when she removed his face protector. The man didn’t shift at all; Saiyo wasn’t sure he was breathing. Tenzo looked like death personified.

Fear gripped Saiyo’s throat, squeezing until her mind rebelled. She wanted to be anywhere except this room watching her captain die. The nurse asked what happened, asked how long he’d been injured, but Saiyo couldn’t answer. Words left her lips, but she had no control or understanding of what she said. Uncharacteristic panic rippled through her, and she fled.