FIC: Naruto: Perpetual Motion (Part II) (Hinata, Kiba & Shino, PG-15)
Title: Perpetual Motion (Part II: Baser Instincts)
Fandom: Naruto
Pairings/Characters: Hinata, Kiba & Shino
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 628
Prompt: 028. Children
Author's notes: Zombie!AU, take two. This was depressing to write.
Summary: The end was never supposed to last like this.
Hinata shouldn't be this protected. All her life, she's been trying to find a way out of this, trying to stand on her own two feet however shaky. This time, however, she walked back into the cage, closed the door, and now she's just patiently waiting for somebody to lock her back in.
She stands shaking, fingers twisted into Akamaru's thick fur. He holds still in front of her, still and gentle. Both of them have their eyes locked on the door; waiting for something. Hinata fancies herself knowing that Akamaru's as in the dark as she is. They've felt the tremble all day, each shake as a bullet tears into the earth, as a body collides with it.
“Stay here boy, guard Hinata-chan.” Kiba kissed her forehead, rested his hand on her shoulder, and backed away to the door. Shino stood a moment longer; smoothed her hair back from her face, traced her ear with a thumb; then he too was gone, leaving Hinata pressed into Akamaru's side, skin crawling.
Her eyes didn't want to look anywhere but at the bandages wrapped around her wrist.
It comes slowly, and all five senses register it with ease. First the hearing; it muffles, fades, returns full force. Hinata clamps her hands over her ears, whines softly as she feels blood drip, sluggishly, into her palms.
Then the taste. She coughs bile, hacks and spews the contents of her stomach and then dry heaves. It feels like it lasts for hours, and even the Akamaru's delicate licks to her cheek are only a slight source of cool comfort.
Taste is followed by touch, as her forehead burns and throbs. She can still feel Akamaru's fur wadded in her grasp, it just doesn't register like it used to - there's nothing there, no comfort or kindness. The clinical tile underneath her is just as blank, even if she knows logically that it should be harder, colder.
Hurts. Everything hurts, every hair, but the focal point is her arm. It burns like someone pressed it to a hot stove, then freezes so badly she marvels at how it isn't made of ice. Kiba and Shino won't touch her arm, but they're touching her everywhere else, worried hands on her face and shoulders and gripping her around the waist.
Kiba pulls her legs in and wraps her up small, and Hinata feels like a child again, unborn, not yet ready to come out into the world.
Smell follows close on the heels of taste, as the acrid stench of flesh that's trailed them since the beginning flows away. This one is almost pleasant, would be almost nice, were it not for the crippling knowledge of what it heralds. Hinata closes her eyes and tries to breath.
The last to go is sight. Her eyelids drop, she moans and tumbles to the floor. Everything begins to shake; or is it just her?
Hinata drops, stone cold, as the virus works its way through her veins.
School is called off three days after the infection sets in. By then a fifth of the local population are infected, and the city is closed off a day later. Hinata huddles in a basement with her sister until Kiba and Shino find them; then they run, sticking to the outskirts, sleeping close together, trying to find a way out.
It's no use, and Hanabi starts to show signs of infection within two weeks. They have to leave her behind. Hinata doesn't protest, just wonders if she'll have any family left when this is all over. Neji, she thinks, must surely have survived. But she doesn't know whether she believes herself or not.
Akamaru whimpers and noses at her hand, and it doesn't move.
Fandom: Naruto
Pairings/Characters: Hinata, Kiba & Shino
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 628
Prompt: 028. Children
Author's notes: Zombie!AU, take two. This was depressing to write.
Summary: The end was never supposed to last like this.
Hinata shouldn't be this protected. All her life, she's been trying to find a way out of this, trying to stand on her own two feet however shaky. This time, however, she walked back into the cage, closed the door, and now she's just patiently waiting for somebody to lock her back in.
She stands shaking, fingers twisted into Akamaru's thick fur. He holds still in front of her, still and gentle. Both of them have their eyes locked on the door; waiting for something. Hinata fancies herself knowing that Akamaru's as in the dark as she is. They've felt the tremble all day, each shake as a bullet tears into the earth, as a body collides with it.
“Stay here boy, guard Hinata-chan.” Kiba kissed her forehead, rested his hand on her shoulder, and backed away to the door. Shino stood a moment longer; smoothed her hair back from her face, traced her ear with a thumb; then he too was gone, leaving Hinata pressed into Akamaru's side, skin crawling.
Her eyes didn't want to look anywhere but at the bandages wrapped around her wrist.
It comes slowly, and all five senses register it with ease. First the hearing; it muffles, fades, returns full force. Hinata clamps her hands over her ears, whines softly as she feels blood drip, sluggishly, into her palms.
Then the taste. She coughs bile, hacks and spews the contents of her stomach and then dry heaves. It feels like it lasts for hours, and even the Akamaru's delicate licks to her cheek are only a slight source of cool comfort.
Taste is followed by touch, as her forehead burns and throbs. She can still feel Akamaru's fur wadded in her grasp, it just doesn't register like it used to - there's nothing there, no comfort or kindness. The clinical tile underneath her is just as blank, even if she knows logically that it should be harder, colder.
Hurts. Everything hurts, every hair, but the focal point is her arm. It burns like someone pressed it to a hot stove, then freezes so badly she marvels at how it isn't made of ice. Kiba and Shino won't touch her arm, but they're touching her everywhere else, worried hands on her face and shoulders and gripping her around the waist.
Kiba pulls her legs in and wraps her up small, and Hinata feels like a child again, unborn, not yet ready to come out into the world.
Smell follows close on the heels of taste, as the acrid stench of flesh that's trailed them since the beginning flows away. This one is almost pleasant, would be almost nice, were it not for the crippling knowledge of what it heralds. Hinata closes her eyes and tries to breath.
The last to go is sight. Her eyelids drop, she moans and tumbles to the floor. Everything begins to shake; or is it just her?
Hinata drops, stone cold, as the virus works its way through her veins.
School is called off three days after the infection sets in. By then a fifth of the local population are infected, and the city is closed off a day later. Hinata huddles in a basement with her sister until Kiba and Shino find them; then they run, sticking to the outskirts, sleeping close together, trying to find a way out.
It's no use, and Hanabi starts to show signs of infection within two weeks. They have to leave her behind. Hinata doesn't protest, just wonders if she'll have any family left when this is all over. Neji, she thinks, must surely have survived. But she doesn't know whether she believes herself or not.
Akamaru whimpers and noses at her hand, and it doesn't move.