Chapter Text
Kana Shimizu had experienced a lot of fuckery in her life.
Giant snakes and a sand demon fucking up her village? Check.
Anko Mitarashi? Been there, got the T-shirt.
Village destroyed for a second time in less than five years? You guessed it! (Hell, she’d even died that time, only to suddenly come out the other side with nary a scratch.)
Madara Fucking Uchiha himself risen from the dead intent on forcing the world into an eternal genjutsu slumber? Yeah, sure, why not? Not like it could get worse.
Famous last fucking words.
Fire dances across her ribcage with every staggered step, the toes of her left foot scraping across the ground as she struggles to lift her leaden limb.
Every muscle in her body screamed, thousands of nerve endings alight with pain at even the simplest of movements.
Her chakra reserves ache, a deep and empty sensation that alluded to what would be a death sentence even without the compounding and fatal injuries.
Breathing had become a terrible struggle, broken ribs screaming in protest. There’s a wet rattle with every laboured breath she takes that lets Kana know at least one of her lungs has been punctured, the organ filling with fluid.
A sudden coughing fit almost sends her to her knees, the metallic taste of blood coating the inside of her mouth.
Distantly, she’s aware that she must look horrific, covered in blood and ash from practically head to toe and dressed in a torn uniform that’s seen better days.
Not that Kana particularly cares, she’s got far more pressing issues at the moment.
Namely, the black spots that have started to corral in the corners of her vision and the alarmingly foreign landscape she’s found herself in.
Gone were the mud and corpses. Instead of the bloody carnage Kana had spent days surrounded by, she was now in a sprawling city of some kind, with buildings that seemed to touch the sky crowding her form from all sides.
She’d managed to stumble her way into a surprisingly pristine alleyway, leaning heavily on the wall in order to simply stand and leaving behind a shocking amount of blood as the overhead lights shone down on her pitiable form.
If she weren’t actively dying, Kana would be in awe of the architecture. As it was, every ounce of her concentration was spent on simply putting one foot in front of the other.
There’s no semblance of a plan, nothing that resembles anything other than just continuing to stumble forward slowly.
It’s instinctual more than anything else; she just simply can’t afford to stop moving. Not if she has any hope of making it back home.
Slim as that chance is.
Whether it’s from the sudden vicious thought or her body finally giving out on her, Kana’s knee buckles, a sob ripping from her lips when she hits the ground hard.
Her vision blacks out, a shrill ringing echoing in her ears when the kunai lodged just below her collarbone is jostled violently. The kunai that was dangerously close to vital organs that she hadn’t dared pull out lest she accelerate her impending death, not that it particularly matters now.
Kana’s unsure how long she lies there, wasting time she doesn’t have, spilling blood she can’t afford to lose before she manages to cajole her body into attempting to stand.
She makes it all of one foot off the ground before her trembling arms give out, rewarding her with another face-first fall onto the cool, unforgiving concrete.
It’s only years of training that keep the raw scream of frustration at bay.
Twisting her body, Kana doesn’t bother to bite back the next sob of pain as she lands on her back, blurred vision staring up at the starless night sky. Another wave of dizziness and spots fills her vision as she lies listlessly on the ground.
From the moment she’d been separated from the few remaining members of her squad, Kana had admitted to herself that on some level, she was fucked.
By then, she’d already received the kunai to her shoulder, and a punishing blow to the head she now realises has given her a hell of a concussion if not outright brain damage.
She’s going to die here, alone and in agony, just another nameless, faceless casualty in a calamitous war.
To be a shinobi is to accept a certain level of duty, sacrifice, and just a little bit of fuckery. Kana had long ago accepted this.
She had thrown herself headfirst into a war with zero hesitation because that’s what it meant to be a shinobi.
A shinobi fought for their village, slaughtered its enemies without remorse, and if necessary, they’d give their lives in the service of their kage.
Kana had long since made her peace with dying a bloody, gruesome death.
Still, as she lay dying, there was a distinct tangy bitterness on her tongue. Perhaps it was the blood, mixing with remnants of Zetsu that she’d ripped chunks out of with her sharpened teeth.
Maybe it was the sour taste of defeat.
Or perhaps, Kana’s not as ready to die as she’s tricked herself into believing since she’d first donned her hitai-ate.
There’d been a scant handful of moments in her life where Kana resented her younger self, resented her father for allowing his only daughter to walk this bloody path (forget the fact she wouldn’t have listened), but none were so prominent as now.
She should have just given up, should have done something mundane and non-life-threatening, like being a librarian or a florist. Kana bet librarians probably didn’t have to deal with sudden universal displacement scenarios whilst actively bleeding after practically four days of non-stop combat.
Who would she have become had she not followed her chosen path?
Would she still be sheltered in Konoha, a helpless civilian, or even an eternal genin corps member tasked with the laughable duty of crowd control and serving as the last line of defence?
Would she have survived?
No.
Blinking harshly, Kana banishes the vitriolic and resentful whispers from her mind. There’s no point spending her last moments drowning in such terrible sentiments.
Not when she knows there was never another choice, not for her.
Not when it wouldn’t have been worth it anyway.
A safe, boring life in exchange for her friends, mentors, comrades?
No.
It’s not an exchange Kana would ever deem worthy. Aoba, Inoichi, Anko, Ibiki, Ino, Choji, Shikamaru, Mouse, Bear, Falcon. All people who had become fundamental in shaping her into the person she had become.
Not even the thought of facing death one thousand times over would be enough for Kana to trade the life she had lived for another.
Thinking of her ANBU squad sends a pang through her sluggishly beating heart, and it’s with a startling clarity that Kana realises that most of her loved ones are dead now.
Selfishly, it puts her a little more at ease, the thought that she might see them all again soon.
Falcon, because if anyone was going to survive it was that crotchety old bastard, is going to be pissed at having to train up a whole new squad, and the thought’s enough to make Kana smile despite it all.
She hasn’t heard from Aoba or the Ino-Shika-Cho trio in days, and despite everything, she desperately hopes they’re still alive, even if it means she won’t be seeing them for a little while longer. After all, someone’s gotta be alive to carry on her memory.
It’s not like they’ll ever find her body, which Kana can’t help but be a little thankful for. Too many shinobi had been unwillingly forced to turn on their once comrades, mindless tools unknowingly killing their own loved ones, but Kaguya had unwittingly ensured that that would never be her fate.
It’s with blood staining her now smiling lips that her eyelids flutter closed with heavy finality.
Unfortunately for Kana, the universe is not quite done with her yet.