Sometimes, especially in times like now, when she has a profusely bleeding leg wound and nearly depleted chakra, she’ll think about how none of this is real. In a way, it’s comforting–if it’s not real then her actions don’t have real consequences, she can make mistakes and do as she pleases.
But, in a completely opposite way, it’s terrifying: if none of this is real, then she’s not real; which means all of her pain–her impending death–means absolutely nothing.
“Hold on, Kiyoshi,” Dan says, pale hands pressed shakily over her thigh. Kunugi’s back is warm against hers, even through the layers of cloth. Or maybe she’s just that cold.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” she says, teeth chattering. For getting injured to the point of immobility. For thinking, even for just a moment, that neither of her teammates might be real–that they might just be drawings in a story in another world, “I’m s-so sor-rry,” she begins to slur, her vision greying out.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Kunugi says, the vibration of his words and the rhythm of his breathing filtering through to her own unsteady chest.
“Yeah, that’s my job,” Dan tries to joke, but the concern in his voice is too audible.
She wants to laugh, anyway, to make him feel better, but all that comes out is a slightly harsher exhale.
“Hey! Stay awake Kiyoshi,” Dan says, breaking out what they like to call his future Hokage voice. The tone that would one day command a village.
But she doesn’t respond.
A/N: Something real quick because work was ridiculously bleurgh. And, as usual, the word prompt is still not in the actual drabble 😛