Soulmates â TenzĹâs Cabin One Year Anniversary
(This is the starter for the TenzĹâs Cabin One Year Anniversary event! Please follow our official tumblr to see the multiple endings our members create, or check out the related works to the AO3 post!)Â
It wasnât often that TenzĹ was the one laying nearly catatonic from chakra loss on a too-thin triage mattress, watching as medic-nins patched up what heâd been too weak to heal himself. Not only was TenzĹ more cautious than the majority of high-ranking shinobi, his inheritance of Hashiramaâs ability to regenerate meant that few wounds got to the point of needing external treatment.Â
Unfortunately, more than a few parts of TenzĹâs normal life were in the process of being upturned tonight.Â
He couldnât concentrate on his surroundings, all ANBU paranoia chucked out the window. Only one of his teammates had also incurred injury, and though he knew they were in better shape than Tenzou himself, he hardly noticed when they were pushed onto the bed at his right. He was vaguely aware of familiar voices from the other side of the medical bay, as well, his own name drifting to his ears through a strange muffle of cotton and the strident, discordant ringing that had persisted since the blow to his head.Â
Heâd been assured he didnât have a serious concussion, and he was tempted to believe that, since his balance had been fine and his memories from the battle were clear and continuous. No, the hearing issues, the nauseous churning in his stomach, the fuzzy edges to his vision, and his utter inability to focus on anything apart from the steady fingertips stripping away the singed, bloodied cloth from his chinânone of that was due to a concussion, or chakra loss, or even the pain radiating from his collarbone.Â
What arrested his normal faculties was a sensation that TenzĹ felt nearly every day in the field, and yet had always managed to push down past his gutâburied beneath logic, duty, and the knowledge that there was always something more important than that selfish emotion:Â
The word came to TenzĹâs mind easily and clung with stubborn tenacity, refusing to be dislodgedâjust like the sensation it named, which burned in his chest and added the thundering of his heart to the cacophony assaulting his ears.Â
He knew what the medic-nin would see as she peeled the ruined cloth down his throat. Or, rather, he knew what she should have been seeing. He knew the soulmark that had marred the skin there for so long, that had decorated him in colors that no words could have adequately described. He had stared at it for hours on end, wondering what it meant, who it connected him to, whether they were meant for him in romance or in friendshipâand heâd ended each day with an inevitable dull ache, and an assurance to himself that it didnât matter.Â
His soulmate didnât matter.
TenzĹ knew who he was, the village he served, the loyalty and love that burned in his breast for those he fought for and beside. No mark could change that, could alter the course of his life and who he had become. That was what TenzĹ told himself, and that was what he believed.Â
There was one other thing that TenzĹ had always believed in, though, that he couldnât shake no matter what he told himself: possibilities.Â
Circumstances could be altered, wills bent, cycles broken, and families found. The potential for change never died.Â
A man TenzĹ respected had once told him that it was easy to get lost on the path of life, and TenzĹ had questioned if a path could exist for something that wasnât set in stone, something ever-forming and created with every moment and choice made. He hadnât asked, but thinking of his soulmark, heâd wondered.Â
Who TenzĹ was would not change, he wouldnât allow it toâbut his path of life wasnât fully formed, not in every way. There were still possibilities, options, and maybe⌠a person that TenzĹ could scarcely imagine.Â
Perhaps it was insane to think that this could change it, that a single well-aimed fireball jutsu could destroy a trail on which TenzĹ had yet to tread. But he peered out of the corner of his eye as best he could as the medic-nin quickly clasped a thick piece of gauze over TenzĹâs mark. She moved too quickly before he could assess any damage beyond the crimson blood obscuring any other colors. His breaths came shallow and his white-knuckled fists clutched the rough, sterile sheets on either side of his abdomen, muscles taut and straining with as much effort as he could afford to expend.
âThe burn, it...â The medic-nin muttered, her low voice cutting through the din. TenzĹ could swear he heard a frown, a concerned furrow of a brow in her voice, but he couldnât tear his gaze from the quickly staining gauze pad to check. She pushed TenzĹâs chin to his other side with a few firm fingers. His eyes started to water with the strain of focusing at such an odd angle, but he managed to hold the stare.Â
Time slowed down. TenzĹâs breath hitched in his throat, every fibre in his body growing still, as she slowly lifted the gauze to reveal the damage.
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