Snippet #1305638

The forest seemed to sway with his impatience, as Sumi stood pacing back and forth. It wasn't like this hadn't happened before, and he couldn't particularly blame his friend for it. Sometimes he couldn't help being forgetful. As he paced, he brushed a hand through his ebony hair before stopping in his tracks. Harsh coughs racked his body as his hand flew to his mouth, clutching his paining ribs with free arm. As soon as the round of hacking and coughing stopped, he held his bloodied hand in front of his face before wiping it away with shaky hands. These days, his health had been like a roller coaster—some days he seemed perfectly fine, while others he was bedridden. Slowly sitting down, he took deep calming breaths to still his thumping heart and held his hands fists together, fingers extended. It was only in this position that he could calm the sharp pains; meditation, something the monks in the monastery had taught him whenever he suffered his outbursts or bouts of sickness. Truthfully, the only one that could completely calm him (besides from the use of sedatives) was his best friend, Tezuka.

They'd planned a day of training today, and then the Mizukage wanted to see them, which he guessed was for their next mission. It'd been awhile since their last mission. Sumio tried to clear his mind of the painful thumping at his temples, and the maddening thoughts that urged him to scream. He couldn't help but shiver with the effort, until his hands eased away from their clasped position and he clutched his head. W... Where is he? Sumio's desperate thoughts ushered through the noise in his mind. For years, it'd been his helpful voice and steady smile that helped him clamber from the darkness. Tezuka had always been the boy with his hand held out, waiting for him to be brave enough to take it. As they grew up, his dwindling hopes had grown into something he could look forward to. Without him, he didn't know where he would have ended up.