Drip-drip.

The steady sound of drops falling from the stalactites above was unceasing, punctuated only by the roar of the waterfall that served as a barrier between their cave haven and the dangerous outside world.

Karasuma suppressed a shiver in the cool, dank air of the cave. Nearly three days after their arrival, and his clothes still hadn't dried completely. Perhaps with air like this, they never would.

Karasuma shifted slightly as he watched the peaceful rise and fall of his colleague's chest under the jacket he'd laid on top of him. The jacket, which had been stuffed deep in his pack, had been the only dry article of clothing that Karasuma could offer the man.

When Karasuma had first discovered the octopus passed out in a pool of his own blood, Karasuma hadn't been sure that he was going to make it. He had lost a lot of blood, and Karasuma feared he may need a transfusion. Yet despite this, the octopus had miraculously clung to life, and though he was still in critical condition, so long as no complications impeded his healing, he would surely be back on his feet in the near future.

Karasuma had managed to stop the bleeding, cleaning and bandaging the wound immediately. Not for the first time, Karasuma found himself thankful for the fact that they had been able to salvage so much from the plane, including the first aid kit which contained the much needed—and thankfully, dry—rolls of bandages. In truth, Korosensei's wound wasn't that deep; it seemed the mere location of it was what caused such a large amount of bleeding. It looked like the tentacle had only grazed his side, not punched through his midsection completely, much to Karasuma's relief. As long as the wound was properly attended to, and his target managed to survive the blood loss, his survival outlook looked quite promising.

The waterfall, which ran fast with fresh stream water, left them in no state of want as far as water was concerned. It provided a more than ample supply of it to keep the octopus' wound clean and the both of them hydrated.

At present, the octopus had a slight fever and had only snatched a few delirious moments of wakefulness before falling unconscious again.

Karasuma continued to play sentinel, watching over his colleague until he would be well enough to maintain sufficient coherence of thought, so that they might together devise a plan to counteract the tentacle creatures and escape this nightmare of an island.

Up, down. Up, down. The steady rise and fall of the octopus's chest and his soft, nearly silent puffs of breath were soothing in their repetition, and despite the clammy cold of the cave, and Karasuma's soggy clothes which stuck sickeningly to his body, Karasuma soon found his eyelids drooping as sleep rushed to claim him.

He was teetering on the very edge of consciousness when a voice suddenly pulled him back to full wakefulness.

"Karasuma?" a familiar voice rasped, breaking through the calm.

Karasuma's eyes snapped open to find his colleague awake, the octopus's brow furrowed ever so slightly as his scrambled mind tried to piece together his surroundings.

Karasuma rushed to his side immediately, a cup of water in his hand. This was the first time the octopus had actually spoken since their arrival at the cave, and the prospect made his spirits soar.

"Here, drink this," Karasuma offered, shoving the cup in Korosensei's direction.

When Korosensei only stared at it dumbly, uncomprehending, Karasuma sighed and tilted his colleague's head up, raising the cup to his lips of his own accord and forcing him to gulp some down, though the majority of the water dribbled uselessly down his chin.

Almost immediately, Korosensei's eyelids began to fall shut once more, his hand moving to his bare chest in apparent repose. Karasuma laid him gently back down, about to turn and head back to his spot by the cave wall when a sudden shout rent the air.

"Where is it?!" Korosensei cried, eyes wild as his hand frantically roamed his chest. "It's gone!"

"What's gone?" Karasuma demanded, his stomach dropping as his colleague fell into a delirious panic.

Korosensei writhed before sitting bolt-upright, an accompanying cry torn from his lips as the pain of aggravating his wound shot through him, nearly causing him to fall backward again.

"Hey, stop moving!" Karasuma shouted. "You'll reopen your wound!"

Korosensei would not stop moving, though, too hysteric to be consoled. "It's gone, it's gone, it's gone!" he chanted like a broken record, voice mounting as the panic set in. His head swiveled from side to side, his hands feeling all around him in search of the missing item.

Karasuma attempted to subdue him by pinning his shoulders to the floor, but it only made him struggle that much harder. "Stop it! You're going to hurt yourself!" Karasuma hissed. Korosensei refused, continuing his pitiful assault in an attempt to shake Karasuma off.

Karasuma peered at his colleague's distressed face, hoping to discern the cause of this unexpected change of behavior. "What–?" And then it hit him.

Of course.

Karasuma dashed to the makeshift clothesline he had set up earlier, hurriedly pulling off the octopus' iconic crescent moon tie.

Karasuma reached his colleague just as he was attempting to struggle to his feet, but before the poor octopus could cause himself further harm, Karasuma thrust the tie into his grasp.

The feeling of the familiar object in his hand placated the hysteric man immediately, his frantic expression melting into a relaxed one as he let his body sink slowly back to the floor.

Karasuma heaved a sigh of relief, watching as his colleague brought the tie to cover his heart, his hands gripping the fabric as if it were a lifeline. Despite his grip, though, there was an inexplicable tenderness to the way he held the tie. A relieved smile ghosted across his lips, and before long, his deep, slow breathing had returned.

He was asleep.

Karasuma found himself kneeling at his colleague's side once more in an effort to assess his colleague's bandaged wound. He tried not to nudge his arm too much lest he wake him.

Luckily, there appeared to be no new damage, seeing as no new spots of blood tainted the white wrapping. Karasuma sat back on his heels, regarding his colleague once more. Then he simply sighed, pushing himself back to his feet and heading back to his spot by the wall.

As the days dragged on, Karasuma could see a definite improvement in his colleague's condition. His fever went down and then disappeared altogether, and his wound had avoided infection. The blood loss and the pain left him weak, and he accordingly spent much of the day asleep, but he regained consciousness occasionally. It was during these moments that Karasuma was able to feed him and give him water. With time, these brief periods of lucidity lasted longer and longer, and Karasuma surmised that soon the octopus would be back on his feet again. That was just as well, for Karasuma feared he'd need all the help he could get.

Karasuma had been able to make their food supply last exponentially longer than it otherwise might have thanks to his skillful rationing. Despite this, though, the supply was dwindling, and in a few day's time, it would be exhausted completely. Karasuma knew he'd have to go and find more food eventually, but with God knows how many tentacle creatures lurking beyond their cave haven, he was unsure how he'd fare. Using the most recent run-in with them as the precedent, he wouldn't stand a chance against one such creature, let alone an entire hoard of them. He had no choice but to stay put.

Moreover, Karasuma wasn't feeling so good himself.

It started with the shivers, which he initially dismissed as merely an effect of the cave's temperature and his perpetually damp clothes. That was, until the shivers progressed to a runny nose and sore throat that bugged him relentlessly, and it soon became difficult to heave himself up and care for his incapacitated colleague.

The only blanket he hadn't given to the octopus, the damp one, was of little help, and in hardly any time at all Karasuma found himself nearly incapacitated himself.

Normal colds had never managed to get the best of him, a fact which made the one currently ailing him that much more alarming. Adding to that the fact that the cave's environment was hardly optimal for recovering from sicknesses, coupled with the knowledge that their food supply was not what it once was, left Karasuma feeling rather concerned, but all he could do was hope that his colleague, at least, recovered soon.

As it was, Karasuma's acting was far from exemplary, but he had been doing a passing job of keeping his symptoms hidden from the octopus when he was awake. But if things continued as they were, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up the charade.

Korosensei slowly opened his eyes, surprised to find how easy the task had become. In recent days, even opening his eyes had been an accomplishment, let alone actually sitting up to eat or converse with Karasuma. The sight of the rocky ceiling above soon came into focus, and the now familiar sound of the roaring waterfall protecting them could be heard, and Korosensei sighed, the memories flooding back to him.

While the pain in his side was ever-present, there was a noticeable decrease since the first few days, and with each passing day, Korosensei felt better and better. Today, he felt so good he thought he might even stand, or even walk around all on his own...though he doubted Karasuma would let him.

After laying still a moment to collect himself, he groggily pushed himself up into a sitting position, but carefully, so as to not aggravate his wound. Korosensei expected his shuffling to alert Karasuma and bring him rushing to his side, so he had fully prepared himself for a deluge of Karasuma's fussing.

To his surprise, however, Korosensei received no such greeting. Instead, there was only the dripping of the stalactites, the roaring of the waterfall, and the dank atmosphere of the dark cave. Korosensei's gaze soon settled on his colleague's hunched form, slumped against the far wall of the cave, asleep. Korosensei frowned. Perhaps Karasuma had pushed himself too hard in his constant care of him? Korosensei couldn't push down the guilt that'd been hanging over him for days. He wasn't worth all this effort, yet Karasuma continued to care for him as if he was. His mind reasoned that it made perfect sense for Karasuma to be so diligent in overseeing his recovery, for they would have to leave the cave eventually, and it wasn't as if Karasuma would have any chance of besting the dangers that lurked outside all on his own. However, no matter how many times he told himself this, the guilt wouldn't leave. Curiously, it only seemed to worsen.

Korosensei struggled to his feet, his legs a bit wobbly at first and his stance certainly ungraceful, but soon enough he found his balance. Once that had been accomplished, Korosensei slowly stepped forward, one foot before the other, testing each foot's stability before placing his full weight on it. In no time at all, Korosensei had strode across the room and found himself looking down on Karasuma. Carefully, he knelt next to the other man, worried that his legs might buckle beneath him, though it appeared they were holding up just fine.

"Karasuma-sensei," Korosensei prodded, and when he received no response, he tried again, lightly shaking Karasuma's shoulder this time. "Karasuma-sensei, wake up."

Karasuma groaned and tried to shrink away, but didn't fully wake. The action allowed Korosensei a glimpse of his face, however. Korosensei's attempts to rouse his colleague came to an immediate halt.

Karasuma's face was completely flushed.

Korosensei didn't have to stick his palm to the other man's forehead to know, but he did anyway. "You're burning up!"

Korosensei withdrew his hand slowly, biting his lip. Had he done this? Surely, Karasuma had overworked himself in seeing to his recovery, neglecting his own health in the process. The rational part of Korosensei's mind countered that thought immediately: the cause of Karasuma's illness was certainly due to the cave's unfavorable atmosphere, leading to a weakening of his already vulnerable immune system. It was unlikely that Karasuma had much exposure to these parts of the world, if any, but Korosensei knew that he certainly did; as an assassin, he'd had a handful of assignments on islands no doubt in this same region. He'd already had his fair share of run-ins with native ailments and cold strains; Karasuma, on the other hand, had not. Still, the guilt persisted, and Korosensei couldn't quite shake the feeling that Karasuma's current state was all his fault.

"Octopus?"

Korosensei was snapped from his reverie. "Karasuma-sensei!"

"You're awake," Karasuma stated rather matter-of-factly, so that Korosensei was unsure if that choice piece of information was good news or bad news to him. Despite the man's inscrutable expression, Korosensei got the impression it was good news.

"I could say the same to you," Korosensei gushed. "How long have you been like this?"

"Asleep?"

Korosensei shook his head. "You know what I mean."

"Dammit," Karasuma released a long-suffering sigh. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

Korosensei fixed his gaze on him, making it obvious that he was still waiting for an answer.

Karasuma huffed, too weak to keep up the charade. "It started about a week ago."

Korosensei nodded, satisfied with his answer. "No wonder. Have you been wearing this the whole time?" He gestured to Karasuma's perpetually damp, cold clothes that still stuck unpleasantly to his frame.

"Most everything else was like this. The few dry garments we had I gave to you."

There it was, that stab of guilt again. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he always ended up causing trouble for others.

"I'll get you something to eat," Korosensei offered, moving to rummage through their packs, eager to divert the conversation from such an uncomfortable topic.

"Don't bother," Karasuma said, just as Korosensei had risen half-way to his feet. "There's not much left."

"What?" Korosensei walked over to the packs, searching first the areas that had been reserved for provisions and when he found very little, practically turned the rest of the pack inside out in his search for victuals. When his search turned up fruitless, Korosensei stepped back slowly, eyes downcast. "There's hardly anything left."

"That's what I told you," Karasuma grunted, re-positioning himself against the wall.

"With such a limited supply, I take it you divided it up into rations?"

Karasuma scoffed. "Of course."

Korosensei glared at him. "Yet the rations you gave me weren't very small at all."

Karasuma opened one eye to regard him. "You needed your strength."

"And you don't?" Korosensei crowed, now clearly irate. What was Karasuma thinking? The boulder of guilt that had settled in his stomach only grew heavier. He had tried not to be a burden to Karasuma, and yet—

"In case you've forgotten, you were on death's doorstep," Karasuma reminded him. "A little cold hardly takes precedence to that."

A part of Korosensei knew he was right. If their positions had been reversed, deep down, Korosensei knew he would have done the same. Even so, he couldn't really explain it, but it bothered him.

"What were you planning to do when the food got really low? Give it all to me and just sit there until you became too weak to move?"

"You were recovering nicely. I figured that by the time it got to that point, you would be on your feet again, and we could venture out and procure more food."

That took Korosensei by surprise, evaporating his anger almost immediately. "I'm sorry...'We?'"

Karasuma stared at him as if he was failing to grasp some very simple, very basic concept. "Yes. The both of us."

Korosensei guffawed. "You're in no position to be going anywhere!"

"I've made up my mind. I am not going to let this be a repeat of last time. I won't let you fend off those creatures all on your own, only to end up impaled and bleeding out on some beach."

Korosensei walked closer to him. "Now who's the one not thinking rationally? I'm the only one of us with kinetic vision. You're in no condition to face those creatures, and even if you were in prime condition, you still wouldn't stand a chance."

Karasuma grit his teeth. "Even if I can't fight them like you can, I can still provide support."

"I'm going alone. You should stay here and rest."

Karasuma bristled. "This cold is nothing. I've had worse." Almost on cue, a fit of coughing wracked his frame.

"I'm going alone," Korosensei maintained. "With my kinetic vision and experience with combating tentacles, I'll be fine."

Karasuma narrowed his eyes. "This is the first time you've actually gotten up and walked around. And your wound. You're not completely out of the woods either, you know. You think I'm just going to let you go all on your own, without support? If something happens to you..." Karasuma trailed off.

Karasuma didn't need to finish his thought for Korosensei to get the point. If he died, then Karasuma's death would be certain as well.

Then neither of them would be able to return to their students.

Korosensei knelt in front of Karasuma so that he could look him in the eye. "Karasuma, I'm going to be fine," he held his gaze steady, imbuing it with all the earnestness he could muster, hoping that some measure of his fiery resolve was conveyed in it. "Trust me."

Karasuma held his gaze just as steadfastly, and for a minute they stared, unwavering, the pregnant silence thundering in their ears and crowding in close. Korosensei had to make a conscious effort not to hold his breath in the stifling silence.

And then the muscles in Karasuma's face relaxed (well, as much as Karasuma's muscles could relax) and he bowed his head, sighing.

"You'd better come back in one piece."

Relief washed over Korosensei, and he finally let the intensity in his eyes melt into a softer expression. He allowed himself a brief smile of triumph.

"I wouldn't dream otherwise."

A/N: Sorry if this chapter sounds a little dry...sleep deprivation has robbed me of my creativity (thank you, school!)

Also, sorry for taking so long to update. I will be making no more promises about when exactly I'll be updating. Just know that I will update this story more at some vague point in the future.