The days rolled together. Bett hardly kept track after the first month somehow managed to pass over her.
She'd grown calloused and rough. Scabs and bruises dotted and spotted her body. None were from fighting but from sleeping on the dirt, landing hard on tree limbs, and dozens upon dozens of bug bites that she'd scratched raw. Her hair hadn't seen soap and water since she left so it remained permanently tired back and secured away from her face. Which was adorned with greyish purple bags under her dull, brown eyes, a sunburned and peeling nose and cracked, scabbed, and chapped lips. Everyone on the team looked like this.
When the 62nd messenger hawk of the mission came for its daily report exchange, Bett still looked for a message from Saya. Any indication that everything was perfectly fine. The shinobi was slowly growing mad simply assuming that no news was good news. She needed to go home and she needed to be near Saya again. She'd never been desperate for someone, felt as though her life was at a stand still until she knew for a fact that her dearest friend was alright.
Bett desired Saya, desired her in mind and in body. She wanted her to laugh and joke and make sarcastic comments. She wanted to hear her sloppily eat int he next room. She wanted to hear pebbles crack against her window in the dead of night so Saya could come in and sleep.
The ANBU woman would have cried some nights is she had the physical energy or time. Her heart lost a piece of itself every day, every hour, every second that the two were part. It was the dullest yet firmest form of torture she had ever endured.
But, what she did receive from the 62nd hawk was a letter saying that they were to begin their trip back by sun up tomorrow. Delivering such news to her teammates was something Bett actually took joy in. She was going home. Finally, she was going home.
Then, when that amazing sun came up for the sixty-third time, Bett had never been more relieved to wake up. She was the first one up and ready to depart. Her hunger, thirst, need for a shower. It all meant nothing. Saya was just hours away--they'd switched positions over the course of their travels and they were actually rather close to the village.
But, unfortunately, before any of the six ANBU operatives were to head home to their own beds, to be greeted by their loved ones, they had to report to the Hokage's office. Which is something Bett considered skipping. But, knowing the repercussions , she thought better.
The mission was a success, of course, so the meeting with Tsunade was as brief as it could have been, which was still much, much too long for the Uzushio girl. After they were dismissed, she sprinted, as if being chased, back to her home, praying that Saya would be there.
Just a matter of feet now. Not weeks, not miles, not hours, feet. The familiar door of her apartment welcomed her and, knowing that her key was kept under a roof shingle just a small jump away, Bett unlocked her door and shut it behind her as soon as he aching, throbbing feet hit her hardwood flooring. Only now did she remove her ANBU mask.
After drawing in a few wheezing breaths, Bett called out. "Saya. Saya, I'm home. Are you here?"
