Boulders

Magnetite

There was fire coursing through her veins.

Toph could feel it, every little flame as it burned her body, white-hot agony that would have made her writhe and scream if she could just move.

But she couldn't.

So she fell deeper into the pain, into the endless fiery agony and hoped that she'd resurface again.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Cool air brushed the back of her sweaty hand. Toph felt herself being moved, carried by someone. Blood rushed to her head, and she let out a quiet moan.

She was immediately dumped on the ground, limbs flopping akimbo on the dirt.

"You're awake," a masculine voice mused. Toph blinked. She recognized the speaker, but from where?

She tried to move upright, but her limbs shrieked bloody murder, the faint trails of flaming hot pain refusing to let her budge so much as an inch.

"It's been one half of the time it took the civilian from Wave," the speaker mused. "Ether he was a wimp, or you're far tougher than I estimated."

Toph found she could still wheeze. "What in Koh's name did you do to me?"

"Just a little chakra stimulator," Sasori mused. "For making shinobi out of people who've never used chakra before. It has a 74% survivor rate."

"You absolute," Toph paused to catch her breath. "Jerk face."

"You can't see my face," Sasori retorted.

Toph was to tired to think up a witty reply. "...I hate you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Sasori decided.

That was about when Toph went from semi-awareness and back into non-awareness. She knew that Sasori slung her over his shoulders again like a particularly annoying sack of potatoes, but beyond that she had no clue what was going on.

It probably should have been bothering her that her feet were so far from the ground, but she was too tired and hurt too much to care.

Her limp, floppy hand found USS's hilt and she squeezed it with about as much strength as a mushroom could muster.

Once she got her strength back, nothing short of former Fire Lord Ozai dancing a can-can would stop her from kicking Sasori's butt into the middle of an active volcano.

That was a promise.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

The next few days were like a fever dream in that nothing really seemed real and everything had a hazy, dreamy quality. She remembered a nice little breeze and the salty tang of ocean air. She recalled warm broth and kind hands and a soft blanket, and for a single delirious moment she thought she was back in Kakashi's apartment.

Then she woke up.

Toph knew she was better the second her eyes snapped open. She shot upright, metaphorical hackles raising as she dug her toes into the floor and searched for Sasori's vibrations.

Where was he?

Although her poisoner eluded her, Toph noted USS II lying on the ground besides her. She grabbed it, the katana's comforting weight soothing her rattled nerves.

Toph slowly, deliberately stood. Her legs wobbled underneath her, almost refusing to support her weight. She leaned heavily against the wall, moving in slow bursts until she found herself outside.

The sun was hot. Loud annoying birds screamed in an obnoxious way songbirds didn't. The dirt underneath her feet crumbled shakily, and she recognized it as mostly sand.