Restoration: Book 2/3

Chapter 15

-Hinata's POV-

If I was dead, if the window hadn't broken and I ended up being burnt alive, then either hell wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be or heaven wasn't the paradise it's advertised as in the bible. In fact, everything just felt kind of neutral. Nothing was too hot or cold and it wasn't so uncomfortable that I'd complain, but it also wasn't super nice.

With nothing to do but reminisce, the events that occurred over the past twenty four hours played on repeat. Even if I really have died, I put up a hell of a fight, especially given how weak my body was to begin with.

I desperately wanted to be proud of myself for giving everything I had into surviving, but couldn't. No matter how much effort I'd put in, I still failed. I still broke the promise I made to Naruto that I'd hold on until we could meet again.

With a hypothetical shake of the head, I distracted myself from my self-disappointment. Another thing bothered me. Before I passed out in that house, when I was running from the second gunman, I remembered hearing someone whisper something. When I woke up, though, that girl assured me she couldn't speak.

Had a second person been there or had she been lying about being mute? I was leaning toward a second person being there because I was on the second floor when I woke up. That frail teenager couldn't have possibly gotten me up there in time for us to both hide, if at all.

If I was right and someone else had been there, it was probably a man, but where had he disappeared so quickly to and why would he leave that poor girl behind? If the shooter hadn't returned and killed her, I probably would've realized this and asked. I didn't even manage to get her name, but if I was dead, at least it was in the same house as someone kind enough to help a stranger in need.

The exceedingly dull aura around me lurched for a moment before disappearing completely and I found myself awake. I was...alive? This had to be another dream because my body had been beaten and broken, but it didn't feel like that anymore. It was leagues less painful than it'd been when I was tackling that window.

I took in a ragged deep breath and winced when an ache burnt through my midsection and the back of my right shoulder. My lungs had been overworked at a dangerous level, but what convinced me that I was actually alive was the fact that I'd been shot in the same shoulder that was throbbing.

Hope filled me and I hesitantly opened my eyes, terrified this was just a dream tricking me. The room around me was incredibly dark. A streetlight down the road was the only thing providing light and it was dull at best. I had no idea where I was and that terrified me.

A hiss slid past my lips when I lifted my right arm, due to my shoulder injury, but I lifted the thick blanket over my body to see that I was in a thin bathrobe. I let the covers fall back down as my hand itself caught my eye. It'd been covered in cuts so deep I likely needed stitches, but now the injuries were healed to the point that they weren't even bleeding anymore.

How long had I been out? My heartbeat sped up as I started to panic. Had I been in another coma? Were weeks of my life gone yet again?

I went to sit up, only to freeze when I felt a weight on the edge of the bed stopping me from tossing the blanket off my body completely. The room was so dark that I couldn't see what it was, so I somehow managed to climb off of the bed up near the pillows with my limbs trembling. My muscles were so incredibly sore that each little move hurt, but it was still much less painful that I'd expected.

My knees hit the thick carpet on the ground and I crept forward at a slow speed until the shadowed figure slumped over the side of the bed became clear. A swift gasp sucked into my lungs and thick tears immediately started to fall heavily down my cheeks.