Title: Cadmium
Description: And the blood keeps pouring out and his mouth still produces nothing but the sound of vacant air and Raidou's face is still gone.
Pairings: Implied GenRai
Rating: T
Warnings: Profanity ahead (it's Genma, what do you expect?)
Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto (which I don't, sadly), the Kakashi gaiden would've been aired instead of hideous fillers, KakaSaku innuendos would be overwhelming, and Hayate would be resurrected to frolic with Genma. And perhaps Raidou as well...

A/N: Don't ask me why or how. It started with one line while listening to a song and BAM you've got a brand-new, shiny oneshot.

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Life is bleeding in my hands

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Oh sweet fuck.

So he's running – from what he doesn't know but he's pretty sure the screams of agony and pleas for mercy coming from the dark depths behind him aren't coercing him anymore than the fact that he just wants to get the hell out of here. The trees aren't lining up right, not in the order he left them; in a world that was so much simpler, that had morals and integrity. But he's running, still, because that's all he can really do right now, despite the kunai puncturing his lung and the numerous senbons that dot along his skin. He's pretty sure that he'll collapse at anytime now – dive down face first in dirt without a eulogy – but adrenaline is a fickle thing and doesn't know when to shut up.

He lost track of where the rest of them went. The colors were so bright and hot from the explosion that he was almost compelled to touch the arrays, to see if they were even real. But he's not that idiotic – not that shit-faced (those five lagers the night before were only to sedate his conscience). So his feet merely rolled their eyes and jumped out of the way like so many other times before but – wait. (Wait, wait) Why was Raidou's skin melting off like that? Why was he screaming so loud; the odious sound rippling through him like a knife under water? So he froze, left to watch the quintessence of physical chemistry – so much more morbidly interesting than the diagram in the text book back at the academy. He can't stop looking even when Raidou slaps a hand to the side of his face, attempting to slop the epidermis layers back into place – inevitably failing and left with steaming skin goo enveloping his blood-marred fingers.

And Genma only gapes – a deer in headlights facing down a barrage of whistling kunai. He has half a mind to dodge.

He barely registers Kakashi screaming at him (but Kakashi never screams, he's whispering) to run – he'll take care of Raidou (but his skin is gone, how can he be taken care of?) so just run.

He'll take care of it.

So Genma's running; from what he's not sure, but he knows he has to haul ass or Kakashi's gonna be pissed. His lips are cracked and dry and he can imagine how purple they are from the loss of blood (or was that blue?). He doesn't have time, though, to replenish water into his system, never mind that red-celled life force. And as he's running, dodging trees, listening to the silent footfalls behind him (enemy or ally?), Genma can only see Raidou's flesh burn and disintegrate before his eyes and he knows he'll never get the damned thing out of his head. He wants to stop pausing and rewinding it but some sadist part of him enjoys watching the skin sigh and deflate, melt through those bloody hands. Is this art? Genma hopes to God it's not.

And so he's running, replaying that grotesque cassette over and over in his mind, and forgetting periodically how to breathe. He's not sure how, but in a split second he's on the ground, hand to someone's throat (the footfalls that were behind him) and grinding his enamels like he knows what he's doing.

He doesn't.

Kakashi's screaming again (but really whispering as to not frighten the shaken beast) to get off, that it's him --

-- that it's okay.

And suddenly he's screaming that holy fuck it's not and why isn't he with Raidou? Dammit, he spits out, his fucking face is gone. Kakashi only stares at him and he's surprised the infamous copy nin hasn't used that bloody iris to shut him up by now. He can see little specks of blood covering his partly revealed face and now he notices his mask is ripped and frayed. He is looking at Hatake Kakashi, but he finds that he still can't see the guy. His eyes are all blurry all of the sudden and he curses (again) that he's missing his chance. All he can see is the blood (and Raidou's liquid skin). The irony tastes bitter and tart.

When did it get so hard to breathe? He keeps staring at the blood splatters and the images behind his eyes because that's all he can do right now, at this very vital moment, where his hands are beginning to shake and are no longer clutching at Kakashi's windpipes but his legs straddling his hips all the same.

"Genma, please calm down. You're having a panic attack."

Fuck those nuances, he wants to say but his tongue is freezer-burned and cumbersome for now so he struggles to inhale instead.

"Genma, get a hold of yourself. Raidou is alive. He'll be fine. Do you hear me?"

He wants to tell Kakashi to stop screaming (he's really whispering softly to soothe the cornered animal) already and just shut up and let his mind think what it wants. But Kakashi never really did like to listen to him. He can see lips moving but Genma's never been good with body language in the literal sense so he just stares and tries to look like he understands.

Which he doesn't.

And Kakashi knows it.

His legs are clamped too tight on Kakashi's hips, but he knows that the silver-haired ANBU can pry him off at any time. But he doesn't 'cause he doesn't know what Genma might do. He realizes he's scared to death when he doesn't even know himself. He doesn't have a fucking clue. But Kakashi doesn't know either and Kakashi's a damn genius. His hands are clenched into fleshy (Raidou's hand trying to repair the irreplaceable damage...) balls of fury, fright, confusion, pain? He's stopped trying to make sense because the sky is beginning to sway and tilt.

"Do you want to sit down?"

He wants to desperately laugh at this out-of-place statement, but the sound gets stuck in his throat that's torn and raw, coming out like a hoarse sob – which it just might be in reality. But reality left Genma somewhere between the third lager and the heat of the blast (he can still feel the cinders on his face) so he's not inclined to follow its rules right now.

He still can't breathe and wonders minutely why he's not dead yet. Brushing off that particular ponder, he chances a glance at Kakashi's there-but-not-there face and is caught by the scarlet iris, its stare murdering his own. He waits to be sucked in but the tugging feeling at his chest isn't caused by the lazily spinning tomoes but of the tears that are slipping past his caramel orbs, creating rivulets of salt upon his mud-smeared cheeks.

"Do you want to sit down, Genma?"

He glares at Kakashi and all his lethargic calm; how he can just look at him like that (like he knows what to do) when he could still smell the horrid scent of smoldering skin cells in his incinerated nasal passageways. He knows he's breathing way too heavily and just might burst his lungs, but he can't stop the ragged wheezes that have suddenly overwhelmed his being. And Kakashi just stares with that crimson eye that matches too well with the blood (Raidou's blood?) that's haphazardly strewn across the face he can't even damn see.

He's lost the right to speak, his voice box suddenly cobwebbed and diseased. Something that tastes like acid is suddenly forcing its way up his esophagus, gnawing (burning, burning) its way through the thin, vulnerable tissue. He doesn't remember getting up. Or succumbing to the dirt on his hands and knees. But there he is, puking his guts out and he's pretty sure he can see traces of organs within the rancid substance, the purple and fallible things suddenly scattered across the forest floor.

He pants, trying to get back his breath and dignity, and never realizes Kakashi kneeling next to him and his misplaced innards until the silver-haired man's mismatched eyes are in line with his own. He wants to break the contact because he knows those damn eyes can see through everything (dirty jokes, misplaced lecherous smiles..) and he pretty much has all his cards laid out on the table right now. It's a terrible hand.

He can feel the sweat plaster his caramel hair upon his forehead, the wet strands slick against his sallow skin. He balls his fists again, letting his dull nails create crimson indents upon his dirty palms, "Fuck, Raidou's dead. Raidou's dead."

He can see how Kakashi hesitates, the small barely-there tentativeness that glazes his dun eye while the scarlet one remains impassive, to grab his shoulders. He still doesn't know what Genma might do.

"He's not dead, Genma. Raidou's alive."

He shakes his head, not really knowing what he's saying 'no' to, but pivoting his dizzy cranium left and right all the same. The smell of bile is waltzing with the left over stench of burnt flesh, making his abdominal muscles clench tightly in apprehension.

"Raidou's dead."

Kakashi softly whispers (he's screaming until his throat goes raw), "He's alive, Genma."

The elastic band finally quivers and snaps. Genma has checked out.

"Stop lying! That's all you ever do, you fucking bastard!"

Kakashi stays silent, watching in muted horror as his stolen eye begins to spin erratically.

"Why can't you just admit it? Raidou's dead! I can handle it!"

But he really can't.

Kakashi tries to grab onto any sanity Genma has left, "Calm down, Genma. Just – "

But he doesn't have any more left as he whips out a dull kunai, pressing it to the silver-haired ninja's jugular. Kakashi could've easily blocked it if it had been anyone else, in any other situation. But he had been taught what to do in the eyes of an agitated animal. No sudden movements.

He's not sure how, but in a moment's second, he has a blade to Kakashi's neck and it'll only take one slight, precise push and blood will cover this misshapen canvas. His hand is shaking and he knows he has to stop it or the cut won't be clean and merciful. He finds himself reaching out his other hand to grasp his raised arm, trying vehemently to steady the shaken limb, but it won't stop.

"Genma."

His teeth are chattering with something akin to misplaced anger and he glares into that bloody eye for all he's worth. His muscles are taut and he can't really feel his legs anymore; his off-duty mind wonders briefly if those senbon were poisoned.

"Genma, let's go home – "

"Shut up! How can you say that!? How can you fucking say that!?"

He's not making sense and his words are tongue-tied, but like hell Genma's going down without a fight.

Kakashi drones on, " – and we'll visit Raidou at the hospital. You can get him flowers and everything."

"Fuck you!"

And suddenly, the kunai is lodged into Kakashi's hand, blood dripping down his palm and onto the vomit-stained grass below. Those mismated eyes are still keeping in tune with his own, though he breaks the contact to stare at the crimson-slathered blade that's wedged between Kakashi's ring and middle finger. The world melts around him as his eyes watch each crimson teardrop leak from alabaster skin. He's shaking, rattling, breaking apart and he's not sure whether he can put himself back together. Parts of him are scattered across the mud-ridden ground and Kakashi's blood is dripping, dripping, hiding all his pieces in a splash of scarlet.

"Genma."

His mouth is open, and he can hear the sound of his breath escaping him as his words evaporate into the nitric air. Kakashi's soft-spoken utterance is merely a whisper, but still sears across his chest; slicing away at his innards, and Genma can't breathe.

He can't stop staring at the bloody mess and his lungs have ceased to provide precious oxygen. There's a distinctive roaring in his ears (the sizzling of melting flesh) that's overpowering his sense to remove the blade and sink to his knees. And the blood keeps pouring out and his mouth still produces nothing but the sound of vacant air and Raidou's face is still gone.

"Genma, look at me."

He can't, he can't, he can't. The chilled air and the stench of blood are squeezing his windpipes; constricting, constricting until he can feel his sockets start to bleed.

"Dammit, look at me."

And Kakashi's still whispering (screaming until his lips chap and tear) despite the vomit, blood and insanity. Genma's crazed, caramel irises find his secure, dun one – not daring to face the red looking-glass and see everything reflect behind its swirling tomoes.

He can still feel the betraying wetness on his face (clear or crimson?) and can't seem to swallow as Kakashi sighs softly and starts to speak. But his knees buckle before the first word is uttered and he knows his eyes are glassed over with disgust and fear. And as he sinks into the mud, as he drops the kunai and as Kakashi kneels in front of him despite the blood gushing out of his hand that he inflicted – Genma squeezes his eyes shut and hopes to the God he used to believe in that those senbon were poisoned and that this wasn't real, merely a virulent-inspired hallucination.

"We're going home, Genma."

Genma weakly grasps Kakashi's right wrist (the one not stained red) and squeezes tight because if he lets go...

If he lets go...

"I'm taking you home, Genma."

The reiteration is supposed to reassure him, but Genma can't stop the tears from escaping his tightly shut lids. He has stopped listening because listening hurts and his numb fingers are still wrapped around Kakashi's wrist (sorry, sorry, sorry) and he's not really sure why.

Genma lowers his head as Kakashi starts to help him up and carry him away. The silver-haired ANBU leaves the discarded white and red porcelain upon the tainted forest floor because as Genma clings to his red-stained jumper –

"I quit... I quit..."

– he instinctively knows that the scarred (ex)ANBU won't be needing it.

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A/N: I've done a few 'breakdown' stories regarding Kakashi prior to this oneshot. I noticed though, that each one was after the event that triggered it. So, I decided to do another 'breakdown' but with Genma (cause I haven't really delved into his character in a while) whilst still on the battlefield.

This is a different writing style that I'm still not very used to. I read another story that was in a similar syntax and I wanted a challenge. So, if you see fragmented sentences, run-on sentences and a lot of 'free-flow' style, it's supposed to be there. Do not review saying I have poor grammar 'cause this was intentional. Heh... I also put some emphasis on particular words using italics.

Hmm, I kind of like this oneshot better near the end and not so much at the beginning... Oh wells.

I'm doing two other oneshots kind of like this one regarding the style and I'm really excited to finish them up.

Soundtrack Whilst Writing:
What's Up People?! - Death Note opening (full song)
Hollow - Submersed
Vitamin R - Chevelle
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
Wonderwall - Oasis

Read and review with comments, suggestions and whatever else! It helps my Muse stay fit!

- - H. 92