𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐢 | ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ

Two Lonesome Blonde's

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(Thank you for 3k reads!! I hope my fic is to your collective tastes^^)

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The hallways of the hospital was flooded by busy nurses and moving patients. Kazumi was dispatched, wearing her casual clothes with her shinobi pouch tied around her thigh. With one hand, she kept it inside the pouch to feel the comfort of Gaara's sand. The other hand pressed against the window of Sanjiro's recovering room. 

Her eyes were less heavier than before when scrunching down at Sanjiro's resting face. It was covered by an oxygen mask. Since the sudden action he done, he was recorded down with shortness of breath in his coma. The fact alone made it hard for Kazumi to leave the depressing building. 

I'll try to visit...

She closed her eyes, forcing her head away as her hand slipped down from the window. 

I should've went to him...

Kazumi bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes. The guilt gnawed at her brain, keeping her up at night. Her once strict sleep schedule was being interrupted just like from the Mist mission. She couldn't help but notice it occur whenever she wasn't with Sanjiro. As her thoughts lingered on the possible outcomes, Kazumi also knew that deep down, she could not leave any affect. What could she have done against Orochimaru? 

It terrified her that the man managed to leave her uncle in such a state. Not to mention the death of the Third. 

"Please wake up." Kazumi pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to push away an oncoming headache with a mumble. Her steps proceeded, walking further away from the hospital premises. 

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Throughout the entire walk back to her compound, she held her head down. A complete contrast from her usual confident, chin-up walk. The villagers had uncomfortable gazes on her, some whispering to others. Kazumi recognised a few to be the same ones who would flash smiles and ask about Sanjiro's wellbeing; their expressions now a foreign frown. 

There was also more familiar faces, ones who had bombarded her with freebies before the chuunin exams. They turned their backs at the sight of her, a look of betrayal evident in their small pupils. 

With a gulp, Kazumi kept her eyes away from theirs. She feared that if she looked any longer at their behaviour, she'd feel herself spiral in doubt.

Surprisingly, the area of her compound was empty. As she stepped through the gates and went down the familiar garden into the traditional building, not a single servant was in line of sight. By now, they would be cleaning or caring for the memorable objects. But it was silent once her foot met the wooden floorboards. 

The dark building filled with shadows from lack of sunlight held no one inside. The rooms were beginning to match the dustiness and negligence of the shelves that Sanjiro ordered for no one to touch. Kazumi's gaze stayed on the scrolls, reminding her of the woman in Sanjiro's memories. 

This is all your fault!

Her brows narrowed downwards, frustrated. It was hard to believe one ignorant woman could cause this future she was currently living in. 

In a fit of sudden suppressed rage, she stormed to the shelves. Sanjiro's voice rang at the back of her head: "... I treasure these worn things... despite all that's been tampered."  His soft voice that longed for Kiyoko was ignored, swatted away by Kazumi's mind that tortured her with their dreadful sins.