[yamaguchi daichi]

I COULD EAT THE WORLD RAW

She was lying on the floor, groaning as she rolled, trying to put out the sparks of flame that were flying off the campfire and sparking on her clothes. Clumsy, rushed, Daichi grabbed the sword he had claimed with his good hand and stabbed her in the torso with it—in the stomach at first, his aim off, and then again in her chest for good measure, and a third time to the throat just to make sure. Her eyes slid over to him, her lips parted as if she were about to say something. But all that bubbled up from her lips was a trickle of blood, and then her eyes went glassy, and she died. Nothing else on his sensor. There were seven, and now there were none. Daichi slid to the ground with a frankly pathetic sob, clutching his mangled arm to his chest and trying to get his bearings. He shut his eyes tight and took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart and mind. Okay, step one: first aid. He needed medical attention. Now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, he realized that the burns on the left side of his body were far worse than he initially thought, and they hurt. Daichi bit into his finger to bring up a swell of blood and began slowly, carefully forming the handseals for Kuchiyose—until he remembered, abruptly, the sight of Shusui trailing along behind Enri as she took off into the distance. If she needed him, then it was for a good reason, and he wasn’t about to rip the med-owl away for his own selfish wants. He could make a sling with some fabric, and he’d clean the burns as best he could. Everything else would have to wait. Step one, done.

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LAIKA OF THQ

[yamaguchi daichi]

I COULD EAT THE WORLD RAW

Step two: find a way out. He could try to blow up the entrance with more explosive notes, but given how unstable the entrance had been, he didn’t want to risk causing an even worse cave-in and outright killing himself. There had to be another natural exit somewhere; he just had to find it. Step three: supplies. One of the bandits had said something about needing a water supply, but maybe there was something still stored around the camp? Daichi had no idea how long it would take him to find a way out, and he needed to keep himself alive long enough to make it home. He really, really didn’t want to die here. He wanted to go home, to his dogs, to his mom, to Toru—the Mizukage, the Kage tower with hot tea and a stack of paperwork and quiet, comfortable conversation. Daichi wiped his eyes. Step three. Get to work. Scrounging around the campsite didn’t turn up much—he found a spare set of clothes, used the shirt to cover the dead nuke-nin’s face, used the pants to sling his broken arm. The gems, he sealed inside of the medium scroll at his hip: evidence for the Mizukage, and a sampling of what the mines had to offer. He found two flasks of water, one of which was half-full, and maybe two days’ worth of rations. Hopefully it would be enough.

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LAIKA OF THQ

[yamaguchi daichi]

I COULD EAT THE WORLD RAW

Scrounging around the campsite didn’t turn up much—he found a spare set of clothes, used the shirt to cover the dead nuke-nin’s face, used the pants to sling his broken arm. The gems, he sealed inside of the medium scroll at his hip: evidence for the Mizukage, and a sampling of what the mines had to offer. He found two flasks of water, one of which was half-full, and maybe two days’ worth of rations. Hopefully it would be enough. He drank, he ate, and he laid down to sleep. His rest was fitful and short-lived, the throbbing pain of his arm and burns keeping him from falling into the deep sleep he so desperately craved. After a few hours, he got back up. He considered summoning help—maybe Bai, tight a flier as she was, could navigate the narrow tunnels and help him scout, find a way out. But his mind wandered anxiously to Enri and her own mission—what if she needed the help? He didn’t want to be a burden on his mentor. He took his water and rations, the scroll crammed full of gems going back to his hip pouch. Despite how awful he felt, the sling doing little to ease the pain of his shattered arm and the burns on his leg and back throbbing with every step, he hadn’t actually expended that much chakra—so he felt okay maintaining an active sensory awareness, the crimson glow of his jaakugan shining in the dark. He claimed a bundle of the torches that the bandits had kept in their camp to light his way, and gingerly made his way deeper into the tunnels.

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LAIKA OF THQ

[yamaguchi daichi]

I COULD EAT THE WORLD RAW

The tunnels were dark, damp, and quiet. The only sounds he could here were the wheeze of his own strained breathing and the distant chatter of disturbed bats fluttering deeper in—but luckily he wasn’t picking up on anything larger than that, no predator animals who might sniff out a wounded teenager and mistake him for a meal. No other people, either. Now that his head was a little clearer, he guessed that the group had been getting ready to take their treasures and go—maybe they were trying to gather up enough gems to barter for passage on a ship out of Mizu no Kuni. He didn’t know. Honestly, he didn’t really care. The walls were long and tall, and after hours of walking in the dim flickering torchlight he felt as though they were starting to press in on him. Tea, he thought. There was a tiny container of Arashi no Kuni tea waiting for him at home, sitting atop a letter from Chikap. He’d wanted to share it with the Mizukage. He just had to get home. When the tunnels twisted off into branching paths, he tried to go up in elevation instead of down—there might have been more openings in the mountainside. Often he hit a dead end, however, and as the hours passed he found himself moving deeper and deeper into uncharted territory, where there was no sign that construction crews had ever been there at all. More frequently he found himself having to squeeze through tight passageways, bruising his already injured body with the effort. By the second day, he considered turning back. Maybe he’d be better off trying to blast his way out after all. By the third day, he knew there was no way he’d be able to find his way back to the entrance even if he tried.

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LAIKA OF THQ

[yamaguchi daichi]

I COULD EAT THE WORLD RAW

Before long, Daichi’s rations and water were gone, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he either found an escape route or—didn’t. The Mizukage would be able to replace him fairly easily, at least, and that was as much as small relief as it was a weight around his neck. The bruises around his throat were still a vicious red, as they had taken a few days to bloom to the surface of his skin, with only the barest tinge of healing yellow ringed around the dark marks. The burns on his left side pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and he knew from the swelling of his skin and the heat emanating from the wound that the burns were infected—but there was nothing he could do about it now. He didn’t spare a thought to the state of his arm, and whether or not the medics would be able to set it correctly. It didn’t matter, really. Not if he didn’t make it back. It was on the fifth day that he felt the faint stirrings of a breeze, and smelled the first whiff of fresh air he’d breathed in days. With a renewed manic energy, Daichi followed the smell of grass on the wind, hoping beyond hope that he wasn’t succumbing to a hallucination in his dehydrated, exhausted delirium—and his faith was rewarded when, in another few hours, he saw rays of moonlight breaking through the darkness. When he stepped out into the fresh, cool night air, he very nearly cried, but there was no water that his body had left to give. It was a tortuous trek down the mountainside, but once he was out in the open he was able to figure out his loose position in the Mizu no Kuni countryside and figure out which vague direction would carry him home. The break of dawn found Daichi arriving at Kirigakure’s gates, delirious with thirst and exhaustion, his right arm nigh-useless and his entire left side swollen with infection. The gate guard caught him as he stumbled through the gates, nearly collapsing with the sheer weight of relief, and shouted for his coworker to get the medics—blatantly ignoring the only request that Daichi was able to voice through his parched throat and dry, cracked lips: To make his report to the Mizukage.

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LAIKA OF THQ