A Glass Of Crimson Souls

24) final indulgences

"No."

His coughing hampered her ability to think—there was so much to address at once, and she could sense just how bad Itachi's heart had become. He wasn't supposed to be on his feet, technically wasn't supposed to be alive at all, not with his heart in that condition. And now his mortality was hitting him, ravaging him, right in front of Miho, who represented everything but Itachi's mortality.

"No, no, no," she breathed, shaking as she eased Itachi onto his back. His body convulsed in her arms—he had lost consciousness, and blood was leaking out of his mouth. She turned his head to the side so that he would not choke, then tore off his shirt and immediately began to do compressions on his chest in hopes of forcing him to cough out the blood lodged in his throat.

"Please…" she whispered, "please, come on." She was compressing so hard that she was coming close to breaking his ribs, but that she could fix easily; she needed him to breathe, and there was no other way for her to clear out his airway.

Itachi suddenly gave one particularly hard cough and blood expelled out of his mouth onto the floor beside them. Never had she been so glad to see such a large volume of blood.

"Thank God," she said shakily, easing his head upright again. "Itachi? Itachi, can you hear me?"

There was no response. Shaking even harder now, Miho brought a hand up to his mouth. She felt no breath. Her hand went to his chest, trembling as she laid it over his heart, where she could feel no beat.

No, no, no. She began compressions again, and in between sets of thirty, gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but the seconds were ticking by and the longer Itachi's heart did not beat, the less oxygen was delivered to his brain and the slimmer the chance of him coming back normally. Miho bit herself to prevent herself from crying. Think. Quickly. She could clear the chakra pathways and administer a chakra shock mimicking the electric shock of a defibrillator to re-establish his heartbeat, but that would take time she couldn't afford. Additionally, Itachi's heart was functioning on barely thirty percent of the tissue it was supposed to have, and it would likely not be able to withstand the pressure of the chakra shock itself. She could clear the pathways and continue the compressions, but there was no guarantee of resuscitation or Itachi's state of mind should he return.

Miho breathed in deeply and placed both her hands on Itachi's chest. Days of nonstop running from Sasuke had fatigued her, and she was not in the best condition.

Please. Not today.

She began the assimilation.

He could feel the warmth of someone's body against his, and for several seconds, he thought he was back in Kusagakure. He was with Miho and close to forgetting what exactly he was doing as an Akatsuki member. The feeling of her breathing against his neck. Her arm around his chest, his under her shoulders. Such a simple thing to wake up to—what most husbands and wives expected to wake up to—yet those several weeks in Kusagakure seemed to be like a gift from the heavens. One that Itachi did not deserve. He had come to this conclusion before.

His eyes snapped open. Indeed, it was Miho beside him, which made no sense because he was no longer in Kusagakure. Quickly, the events of the previous night flooded his memory and he sat up abruptly. The sudden movement caused Miho to open her eyes as well.

"Itachi," she croaked, sitting up with him. Her eyes were red and her entire face swollen—not her most beautiful state, yet never had he been more glad to see her. He brought a hand to her cheek as he thought.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, bringing a hand over his heart.

His heart. It was beating, beating with a rhythm and strength that he had nearly forgotten. He looked at her, alarmed.