The Case-Book of Kakashi Hatake

The Hound of the Uchiha {Part 8}

In a panicked haze, I threw my coat on over my nightdress and pulled on my boots, not even bothering to find stockings first. Instinctually, I grabbed the small medical kit that I always pack and slung it over my shoulder.

Candle lighting the way, I flew through the house on silent feet, nerves that I had not felt since the war raging through my body. I could feel the sick threatening to rise in my throat as my mind assailed me with images of Hatake dead on the moor, throat ripped out and bleeding. Years of gruesome experiences happily fed my anxious imagination with every detail. The smell of blood and death. The whimpering of final breaths. The warm wetness slipping between fumbling fingers.

As I passed through the kitchen on my way to the back door, I spotted a lantern and stopped just long enough to light it with my sputtering candle and grab a heavy frying pan from a hook on the wall.

Opening the door, cold wind rippled through my thin nightgown, blowing back the coat I had not stopped to button. Mindless to the discomfort, I sprinted, holding my lantern out to illuminate a small circle in front of my dashing feet and brandishing the pan like a weapon at my side.

Clouds blew in front of the moon, causing the light to shift across the moor, the shadows dancing with a life of their own as nocturnal animals scurried. It was a sea of indistinguishable grey movement, but I did not slow.

Faster than I can ever remember running, I reached the tor.

A shape darted from around the large face-shaped rock, and instinctually I swung, fry pan whooshing through the air.

The light of my lantern caught grey hair, and with a yelp I tried to stop my strike. But the dense weight of the pan carried too much momentum, and I cringed at the sound of cast iron striking bone as his left forearm blocked the blow.

Tears rolling down my cheeks, my right arm hung limply at my side, the weight of the pan pulling at my fingers like a betrayal.

"I am so," I began, but Hatake pulled my back against his chest with his uninjured right arm as he pressed up against the tall rock, hand covering my mouth.

He whispered in my ear so silently as to be little more than a tickling breath, "Blow out your lantern and stay quiet."

My whole body froze against his in an instant, eyes wildly scanning the surrounding area.

Releasing me slowly, Hatake pulled a revolver from behind his back, thumb pressing down the hammer as he did so. He stepped forward, placing his body between me and the moor. I could not help but notice that his left arm was pressed awkwardly against his chest.

Obeying his order without question, I blew out the lantern and set it at my feet to brandish my pan with both hands like a bat.

That's when I heard a huffing sound, like something was smelling the air.

My every instinct yelled at me to crouch against the rock and look as small as possible, but I ignored the urge. It would limit my maneuverability too much. If something came close, I wanted to be able to put my whole weight behind my swing. I would probably only get one chance with such an unwieldy weapon.

Time seemed to slow as I focused on distinguishing the fluttering shadows dancing across the low scrub of the moor.

The sniffing sound again. Closer this time. Hatake and I turned in its direction as one, raising our weapons.

A shape was beginning to emerge. Large and dark, almost invisible in the night.

Hatake's finger slowly began to curl around the trigger as he followed the movement with the barrel of his gun.