DISCLAIMER: Really. I own nothing but my own OC! Warnings for mentions of suicide attempt.

- CHAPTER 1: I Will Always Love You -

~ If I should stay, I would only be in your way. ~

APRIL 4 - 2300 hours

"You are aware of the risks of this particular mission?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you are willing to continue?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your affairs have all been settled?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. It's your job to keep them all alive, Fujiwara Tsubasa."

"Yes, sir."

"Try your best to return safely."

"..Yes, sir."

APRIL 3 - 0900 hours

"Morning, Tsubasa! The usual, again?"

"Morning! I'm afraid so, I haven't learnt anything new to cook." I smiled, throwing in an embarrassed chuckle. The vegetable produce stall owner was one that was friendly to anyone, civilian or ninja. She was one of the few who didn't shy away or become wary when faced with ninjas. Perhaps that's why I always felt more emotion around her than the other stall owners that I had come to recognize. Her vegetables would however, not be put to use this week but would be given as an anonymous donation to the orphanage. After all, I might not be cooking anymore, not after tomorrow. This morning market trip was ultimately, only to uphold appearances. Speaking of upholding appearances, it was time.

A toss of my hair to get my light lavender hair out of my eyes, a wave of my hand for my bracelet to glint in the sunlight, a laugh loud enough to travel in a little greeting. All actions designed to look natural enough to escape raising his suspicion. But really, he should have known. That all ninjas, whether retired or active, have a purpose for every action and that nothing is ever as natural as it looks. Even the way the man slouched around, with that orange book in hand, was calculated and definitely not relaxed. These actions were meant to naturally catch his attention, though I knew he probably didn't need any help to spot whatever he was looking for. I couldn't help it though. I wanted him to know that I was here, that I was alive. I knew he needed to know it. But, he probably didn't need me anymore. I was just holding him back from moving on. A reminder of times long past, that kept him from living in the present. The time for us childhood friends to stop dancing around each other had come. So, today wouldn't be hello. Today would be goodbye and farewell.

I could see it out of the corner of my eye. Team Seven, along with their ever so elusive and lazy jounin sensei. The same as the first time I saw them, strolling along and causing a ruckus with their different personalities that meshed just as much as they clashed.

"Sakura! Look at- uwah?!"

CRASH.

"Naruto, you idiot! Apologize right now!"

"Tch."

"Naruto. No ramen for you."

Not for the first time, I wondered how Kakashi felt when he looked at his students. Did he know just how much all four of them were similar to Team Minato? Almost like an exact replica of him and his team. Even I felt the heartache looking at them. How much more acutely would Kakashi feel the loss? Or perhaps he felt like he had gotten a second chance, a chance to make sure that none of them repeated the tragedy that was Team Minato.

Waking up this morning, there was something different in the air. No stark differences that popped out at me, but there was a gut feeling that everything would change today. And every ninja, young or old, active or retired, knew not to ignore any gut instincts. These instincts were finely honed over gruelling hours, days, years of practice. Ignoring it would be akin to asking a ninja to throw away his ninjutsu skills. Following the normal routine; wake up at 7am, laze around the apartment for an hour or so (there would be no breakfast because food was less appetizing each day; more like just a show for others to see that I was indeed eating), walk to the market and loiter around at the usual stalls, a flick or two of the hair and wrist (a flash that I knew he would not miss). And everything after that would pass by in a haze, simply going through the motions, and waiting for night to come. Sleep would provide some semblance of rest, only for it to repeat again the next day.

There was usually nothing to look forward to, but this morning was different. Today, I was the one whose attention was captured. Perhaps it was because of the news I had recently heard. Kakashi had a team of genins. The first team he had ever passed. Apparently, the Academy graduates in his team were something else altogether. At first, I was confused. It had been years since he had agreed to become a teacher but he had never passed a team before. Was that trio of 'something else' really that good? Or perhaps, it was a sign that time was starting to move forward again.

Walking along the street while greeting the stall vendors, I was waiting for that feeling again, the small hairs on the my nape standing on end from the awareness of his eyes on me; the one that let me know that he was watching. The sixth sense all ninja possessed.

And then I saw. The blond hair and bright blue eyes. The dark hair and even darker eyes. And the girl, the mediator with a warm smile (though this one seemed a little more violent). So similar.

The memories suddenly hit me and my legs nearly buckled. I wheezed, suddenly finding it difficult to get air. Tears blurred my vision. That team.. They were so similar. For the first time in years, my lips twitched up in a genuine smile. The first show of genuine emotion in years. I must have looked ridiculous, a lady standing alone in the middle of the street crying and smiling at the same time.

But all I could think of was that he was moving on.

(And the niggling thought in the back of my mind, that his back was far too ahead of me again and was leaving me behind, as always.)

Today, his eyes were yet again trained on his students. Those eyes no longer focused on me. That was the reason how I knew that it was time to let go of him, and for him to let go of me, if he hadn't already. Although, looking at Team Seven's antics now, he probably wouldn't even notice my farewell to him. A laugh bubbled out at the sight of Naruto flailing around and crashing into a stall in his attempts to impress his pink-haired teammate. Ah, he really was Minato and Kushina's child. Even after all these years, they could still effortlessly make me laugh.

I turned away before any of them could notice me staring, continuing down the routine path. It was an unspoken rule that we behave like we didn't know each other familiarly. It wouldn't do to draw attention to our awkward interactions. That Uchiha boy of his was definitely skilled enough to notice any unusual behaviour.

He didn't show any sign of having noticed my presence. It only convinced me further that he was going to be alright when this show ended. And it would end soon. So, it was rather assuring to me, to see that man being a jounin sensei, following in his father-figure's footsteps. Except for that garish orange book his nose was stuck in. Oh, forgive me, Sakumo. I promised you to watch over your son but he had somehow, without my notice, picked up such an unseemly habit. How did he even start that weird hobby..? Curse you, Jiraiya.

Anyway, I suppose it really was no surprise that he would have his hands full with those students. The boisterous ball of energy, the brooding prodigy and the fangirl - with stars in her eyes even now as she stared at her dark-haired teammate. He would never have the time to be drawn back into those forbidding memories with all their shenanigans, never even have the time to think about the people that belonged in the past.

APRIL 3 - 2200 hours

Trudging home after my shift at the hospital, I heard the tell-tale explosions and screams coming from the training ground nearby. I winced. Naruto's voice shrieking in apology and Sakura's shrill voice as she scolded him were so distinct and easily recognizable. A fond and nostalgic smile involuntarily came upon my lips. He really was their son; Minato's bright appearance but Kushina's fiery personality. Just looking at Naruto brought back the light memories of a warm house, comforting smiles and ramen.

I had managed to not think of Kakashi during my shift. Today had been extraordinarily hectic with many ninjas coming home to the village. Bustling around healing and dealing with workaholic ninjas that didn't understand how to rest or relax took all of my attention and energy even despite being on auto-pilot mode. But once again, my mind was drawn to him again. How is it that I never managed to not think about him for prolonged periods of time?

Thinking about the number of years we had known each other, I mused, it was funny how our relationship had so many ups and downs – it had almost become guaranteed to miss the chance to further our relationship, it was never the right time - but still remained strong, in a way. An unbreakable bond, despite years of nothing more than customary greetings. We still had strong feelings for each other, though these feelings were in a vague category. I didn't know what I was to him anymore. We had been friends and rivals, and for one instant, more than friends. And then, barely more than strangers.

The only thing I was certain about was that just like me, he needed to see me and I needed to see him, to know that we were still safe, that we hadn't lost yet another one. After the attack of the Nine Tails, he became so afraid of losing yet another piece of his world; the ones he held close to his heart. So haunted that he retreated back behind his walls, wanting to protect himself from ever being hurt in such a way again. Thinking that he would fail in saving them again, it would be better that way. I could see the survivor's guilt in his eyes, thinking that he no longer deserved anything good in his life. However, just because he cut off his feelings towards others, didn't mean that my and others' feelings for him were cut too. Even with the cold and fierce exterior he showed the world, I knew that he was just too kind, too warm, to truly sever all his emotional ties to the village and its citizens. He would never admit it now, but hidden far behind all his barriers and walls, we all still had a place inside his heart. I knew that this was his definition of being strong, so I gave him space. I showed no acknowledgement of him, stopped trying to speak to him, knowing it was what he wanted. But I didn't want to. I wanted to talk to him, to hear him laugh, to see that crinkle his eyes made when he was happy. I could never thank Gai enough, for always seeking him out and pestering him for their daily rival contests. You couldn't see it but, Kakashi always seemed a little more relaxed after their ridiculous bouts of racing from one of the village to another.

Looking at that, I sometimes felt like I had given up too easily, that I should have fought harder for him. That I should just walk up to him, demand an explanation and then probably kiss him or maybe, punching him would be a better idea. If I had, would the two of us be like how we were in our childhood? Would we be friends again? Probably not, I thought bitterly. He never spoke to me anymore, even going to such lengths just to avoid the sight of me that I was starting to remember his back more than the front ever since that day in the hospital. The day we crossed the line over to more than friendship. The day I still couldn't decide whether to feel happy or heartbroken about. Maybe it was from guilt or because I brought back the memories of when we were young so he couldn't even bear the sight of me but I had always been longing for him.

I suppose I never meant as much to him as he did to me. I had nearly forgotten, he was the one who left first. He was the one who had found it in himself to abandon me. It was difficult for me too. He wasn't the only one struggling. He forgot that my teammates and loved ones were snatched away from me too. I had no one remaining except him, but he just up and left without even a single word. It was depressing, and hurtful, that I was once again cast aside, staring after him. I didn't want to think about it, but sometimes, I entertained the thought, just a fleeting thought, that the kiss was just a kiss to him, without any feelings from the heart.

I wonder, if I ever meant anything to him at all? I wonder, if there would come a time when I could walk at his side instead of staring at him from behind?

I've come to realize that despite how much I know him, there's equally as much about him that I don't know. Depressing, that thought, even after all these years.

Even so, he was my dearest friend. For his happiness, I would do anything and everything. I did anything. I would be his rock, his sole pillar of support in raging rapids even if I, myself, was drowning. Even if each day, I felt a little less myself and a little more empty.

I had just finished the journey back to my apartment – no, it wasn't home, home was warm and filled with smiles, laughter and love - after slogging through a long weary day at the hospital. The apartment was dark and cold, void of anything even remotely close to comfort, only intensifying the gloomy aura seeping through the walls. I felt absolutely miserable. Even the hour spent in the heated bath only soothed my muscle pains, but did nothing for the tiredness or the hollow in my heart.

I was struck with the crippling horror and exhaustion of repeating these actions every day, with no real ambition or goal. No drive to carry on persevering. There was no endpoint in sight. And I wondered, I didn't do it for him to appreciate me but just what exactly was I suffering through this for? How long would I continue to plough through this personal mission? For a man that didn't and would never know anything about what I had been doing? Then again, it wasn't as though he had asked to me to do it. So ultimately, this was just self-inflicted torture. God, just when had I become such a masochist? Although, all ninjas probably were.

Would there be an end? An end where suffering was no longer necessary? Where peace and comfort would be abundant?

A stinging pain drew me back to reality. I hadn't realized I had drifted off into my head while still preparing the ingredients for my dinner, or rather, supper. Staring at my finger where the knife had sliced into, I sighed heavily. I was too tired to use chakra or to find bandages. The thought of moving more than necessary just to find bandages was equally as loathsome as the thought of using any more chakra, being just a hair's breadth away from chakra exhaustion. Choosing between the two options took too much time. The wound was deeper than I expected, blood had already begun pooling a little in my palm.

In that one moment, slightly drawn in and entranced by the somehow dangerously beautiful rivulets of red trailing down my wrist, I didn't think about Kakashi, didn't think of the hospital and all my other responsibilities. For one blissful moment, I had forgotten about everything. All my worries, all my struggles, my loneliness, the long sleepless nights often spent staring at the ceiling (I knew the cracks in the ceiling like the back of my hand, I could draw it blindfolded). I forgot about the continuous horrifying nightmares that kept me up, forgot the tear tracks dried on my cheeks and the hoarseness of my voice from screaming throughout the night. I forgot how tired I was of the mask I had to put on each time I stepped out the door, smiling brightly at everyone like I hadn't just relived the memories of the deaths of the ones I cared for again. They had all disappeared into the night. For one moment, I didn't have to fight.

I was free.

And then, they came crashing back.

Weighing down on me again, my suddenly frenzied mind whirling with thoughts of having to repeat this unending stress tomorrow yet again for many more days to come. I instantaneously became desperate for relief, craving and yearning for that peace where my mind could be silent. I wasn't really needed after all, wasn't I? Kakashi didn't know what I was doing for him, what would it matter if I wasn't there tomorrow? At the hospital were many other ninjas of nearly equal skill. It wouldn't be a disaster if I were to not show up. It was normal for ninjas to suddenly disappear anyway, perhaps on a sudden mission that left them no time to say their goodbyes. It would be so easy. It would probably be at least until after a few days or a week, before anyone would think something was strange.

More and more reasons popped up in my mind. There were so many. And slowly, the reasons to endure began to disappear. Even the thought of disgracing the village or my clan became less prominent. I had been enduring for so long, surely I had done enough already? Every morning, I repeat the clan motto and these words to myself over and over again, stubbornly hanging on.

Endure. Just one more day. I can do it. Just one more day.

I used to believe extremely so in this motto. But now, the more I thought about it, the more the idea of laying everything down and giving up becomes more tempting. The idea of a peaceful place, where all my loved ones would be waiting for me. Where I didn't have to fight just to feel content. A place where I could just.. smile. With all my heart, smile, just because I felt happy from the deepest depths of my heart.

I did not have any of those anymore, those things called wings. I no longer possessed the ability nor the desire to fly. They had been lost ages ago. The Fujiwara clan was unrivalled in their persistence, in their ability to endure. However, I have endured far beyond my limits for a long time and every person has a breaking point. Surely, it would be alright for me to stop now?

To you,

If you are reading this, you must have had some idea of what had happened and came looking for me. Yes, it is an S-rank mission and yes, I volunteered. It is highly likely that return will be.. shall I say, difficult, as to be expected of this level of mission.

If the mission has failed, and I don't return, don't look for me. Don't mourn me. Don't remember me, if it only brings you bad memories. And don't blame yourself, that's ridiculous and you have a severe case of survivor's guilt even when it has nothing to do with you.

I have written this in the event that you care, perhaps it is just the last of my unfounded hopes. You have become harder to understand, maybe it is because we have both grown. Years have passed and we both changed, we are not the same as we once were. Things are much more complicated now, much more dark than they were before. We don't possess things like rose-tinted glasses anymore. I don't know what you will think of me when you discover my less than honourable motives of trying to escape this futile and painful life. However, I will not abandon my teammates, because as a beloved mutual friend once said, those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash. I will keep them alive to the best of my ability, but if death comes for me, I will not run away.

I don't know if you will even bother to read this. I don't know if you will want to do anything for me. You never really did listen to me anyway. But if you are now, what you can do for me is to just live on, like I did for you. Struggle on, because life will never be fair, in hopes of finding that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. For the view of the other side of the mountain. I've lost my hope, but I'm wishing for you to always keep the faith. I'm certain that you'll have no problem doing it better than I ever did or ever could.

Someone once told me that living is different from surviving. The difference should be clear to you by now. You were surviving before, but now, you're living. You've found something worth living for, finally realised that you're not alone, you've never been. You have so many things to live for, to look forward to. So, live on, not just survive, and find more things worth living for, worth fighting for. Find happiness. That's all I ever wanted for you.

Perhaps my only regret, would be not knowing whether I had ever brought you happiness in all these years I've known you.

Also, talking about living and happiness, have you loved yet? I've heard it's better to have loved and lost than to never love at all (from those gossipy old ladies at the market, perhaps you can get the full love story). Find a woman – or a man, whatever suits your preference – to love. Settle down, start a family and retire if you like. The desire to protect, I believe, can achieve much more than the desire for vengeance.

Take care of your team. Teach them well, like Minato did. They, and you, were meant for greatness. It's in their blood, and yours as well.

Goodbye, you.

And so, after many years of enduring, its head drooping down a little more each day..

Finally, the Wisteria flower..

Withered.

~ I will always love you. ~

A/N: Reviews and constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated! :)