They left through the valley mouth, following the sound of water.
Halfway along, the sound faded.
The person on his back was feverish again.
The pallor that had receded during their last rest had crept back over his cheekbones.
Kiyoshi evened out his pace.
Every jolt he spared his feet meant a little more steadiness on his shoulders.
Sweat soaked the carrying straps, and the weight dragged at his shoulders in waves.
At first, whenever they stopped, Sakura pressed the back of her hand to that forehead and waited for him to wake.
Later, she stopped waiting.
She counted him as awake.
She soaked the cloth in water and changed it whenever the sunlight shifted past another gap in the trees.
After wiping his forehead, she rested her fingertips against the inside of his wrist, counted two beats, then withdrew her hand.
The heat the cloth brought back felt heavier each time.
Naruto leaned on a forked branch the whole way. That hand could not make a fist, but his mouth never stopped.
They kept moving. No one said they had to get the person on Kiyoshi's back into the Tower before dark, but every step they took followed that goal.
Kiyoshi assigned the duties at each rest stop.
He put himself on the roster for every stretch.
He scouted ahead, he brought up the rear, and he watched over the person on his back.
The one who slept the least looked the steadiest as he walked with the team.
Sakura glanced up at the assignments once and changed nothing.
The group ahead had not gone far.
The thin man in the lead stayed less than half a stretch ahead. At every fork, he first stepped onto the rock at the junction, raised his hand, and pointed one way.
Once