Lee lay on a narrow table in the center of the room, naked, his lower body covered with a sheet. Two medical ninjas stood over him, their hands wreathed in chakra as tried to repair the damage to his body. Dark bruises mottled every visible inch of his flesh, but his left arm was the worst. It looked like raw meat, red and glistening. A white fragment of bone poked out of his shoulder. Blood stained the sheets and dripped to the floor.
Gai stood in the doorway. The med-nins had told him that Lee was unconscious, that he couldn't feel anything…but as he watched, Lee's face contorted, as if in pain. A faint whimper escaped his throat.
A nurse lay her hand on Gai's arm. "There's nothing you can do for him right now," she said. "Watching will just make it harder on you."
"I won't leave him," said Gai.
She tightened her grip on his arm. "I'm sorry, but if you stay here, you'll just distract the medical ninjas. Let them do their work."
Gai hesitated...then turned and followed her down the hall.
I could have prevented this. If I'd intervened sooner…
He gritted his teeth, tears blurring his eyes.
Lee, what have I done to you?
For awhile, there was only pain, saturating his body like a red haze. He didn't know who he was or what was happening to him. There was no room in his awareness for anything but the pain.
It seemed he must die soon. Surely, no one could hurt this much and live. But somehow, he kept living.
Faceless, shadowy shapes hovered over him. Through blurry, dim eyes, he glimpsed bloodstained gloves and glaring lights. Then a voice said, "His heart-rate's going up. He must be regaining consciousness. Give him another dose."
A sting as something sharp pressed into his neck. Then a dark mist crept across his vision, and he sank into nothing.
Time passed. How much, he didn't know, but it felt like a very long time. Sometimes it was dark. Sometimes he saw things, heard things, and didn't know if they were real. Murmured voices flickered through his brain. Fuzzy shapes moved across his field of vision.
He rose through the murky waters of drugged sleep and saw a man's face staring down at him with pain-filled dark eyes.
It seemed he should know the man's name. He grasped for it with his mind, but it kept slipping away. Try as he might, he couldn't remember…and somehow, that hurt him more than the pain in his body. He should know. Even if he had forgotten everything about himself, he should know who this man was.
The man was talking to him, his mouth moving, but he couldn't hear the words. Lee struggled to focus his thoughts. "…hear me, Lee? Are you awake?"
Lee. That's my name. I'm Lee.
He tried to speak, but his lips wouldn't move.
The blackness pulled at his thoughts, and he sank under once more.
Sunlight slanted through an open window and spilled across a white, tiled floor. Lee blinked as his thoughts stirred to life, and he woke, really woke, for the first time since…since…
What had happened to him? Lee stared at the ceiling, his mind a blank. A dull, throbbing pain suffused his whole body. He felt like he'd been trampled by a herd of bulls.
He tried to sit up, and fresh pain ripped through him. Red stars exploded behind his eyes. He fell back to the bed with a choked cry. A wave of weakness washed over him, and for a moment, his vision grayed out. When the pain had receded enough for him to move again, he turned his head and saw his arm and leg encased in thick, plaster casts.
A dam broke open in his mind, and memories poured in. He remembered a huge hand reaching toward him, gritty, sandy fingers closing around his arm and leg, a terrible, squeezing pressure, a shattering agony…
I lost.
A hot, bitter lump rose into his throat.
I failed.
He had given the fight everything he had, put it all on the line—but it hadn't been enough. He shut his eyes to hold back the tears.
No, he thought. No tears. No self-pity. He just had to heal, get stronger and try again. That was his way. No matter what happened, no matter how many times he failed, he must keep trying. He must…
Lee heard the click of the door, and his eyes snapped open. A man entered and approached the bed. "Gai-sensei," Lee said, startled.
"You're awake." Gai looked in his direction, but he wouldn't meet Lee's eyes. His expression was unreadable. "How do you feel?"
"I am in some minor pain."
"If you need, I can ask them to increase your pain medication." Lee had never heard his sensei's voice so quiet and subdued.
"I do not want anymore medication. My head already feels so cloudy. I can endure it." Lee smiled, but Gai didn't smile back. Something was terribly wrong. Why wouldn't Gai look at him? Why didn't he smile? Lee's chest tightened. "Gai-sensei, say something, please."
Gai closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Lee," he whispered hoarsely. "This is all my fault."
"What are you saying? You did not do this. Gaara did." Look at me…please look at me, Sensei… "Besides, I will be fine. I have been injured before. I will recover, and I can try again."
Gai's face contorted, as if in pain, and Lee's blood turned to ice-water. He watched as Gai clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "Sensei?" Lee said in a small voice. "What is it?"
"They told me…"
"What?"
"Nothing. It's nothing."
"Please tell me!"
"The medical ninja I spoke to…he…he doesn't think you'll regain the full use of your limbs. He said the damage to your arm and leg is too severe. He doesn't think you'll be able to fight after this."
Lee felt the blood drain from his face. "I cannot be a ninja anymore?" His voice emerged small and frightened, the voice of a lost child. "But—you do not believe that, do you, Gai-sensei? He is wrong. He must be. You always told me that I can overcome any obstacle if I try hard enough. You told me—you…" He trailed off.
Gai stared at the floor, fists clenched, shoulders shaking. He seemed to be struggling for control.
"Gai-sensei!" Lee wailed.
Gai covered his eyes with one hand. "Forgive me," he whispered, and left the room.
Lee lay in bed, stunned.
In the hall, Gai leaned against the wall and buried his face in his hands.
This was all his doing. Lee had trusted him, put all his faith in him, and this was the result.
He'd failed Lee as a teacher. He'd pushed him too far, too hard, taught him dangerous, forbidden techniques. In opening his fifth gate, Lee had nearly destroyed his body, left himself vulnerable and weak, helpless before that lunatic Sand ninja. But even then, Gai had hesitated to intervene. In his naivety, his blindness, he had been unwilling to even consider the possibility that Lee would lose the match. And now, Lee was crippled.
He gritted his teeth and wiped the back of one arm across his eyes.
The idea that he had destroyed Lee's dream was bad enough. But the thought that he might have condemned Lee to a life of limping about on crutches was too much to bear. Knowing that, how could he face his student?
He knew he should go back into the room and talk to Lee, smile and reassure him, tell him everything would be fine. But he couldn't—because he knew it would be a lie. If he walked back into that room and faced the innocent boy whose life he had ruined, Gai would crumble and start to cry, and that would only frighten Lee more.
So he remained in the hall, face hidden in his hands, his heart a hard, bitter knot of shame.
Lee stared into space.
Gai-sensei had left him. The one person who had always cared about him, always been there for him, had abandoned him.
Lee was not good enough, after all. He'd failed Gai—failed himself. And now he was alone.
The next day, Gai visited him again. This time, he wore a broad smile no deeper than a coat of paint. Lee wasn't fooled. Gai still wouldn't meet his eyes, and Lee knew his sensei was struggling to conceal his pain. I am a disappointment to him, thought Lee.
"Don't worry about it, Lee," said Gai, with forced cheer. "You'll prove the doctors wrong, I'm sure of it. This is just a temporary minor setback. You'll recover very soon, and you can return to training."
"Yes, Sensei."
But Lee knew that Gai didn't really believe that. Beneath the smile, there was a terrible darkness in his teacher's expression.
Later, a med-nin came in to adjust the dosage of his pain medication. Lee watched the clear liquid move from the IV-bag, through the plastic tube, into his body. His eyes slid out of focus, and a heavy lassitude crept over him. "Is it true?" he murmured.
"Is what true?"
"That I'll never fight again."
The med-nin hesitated. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "We did all we could, but it's better for you to give up the idea of being a ninja. The damage to your body is too severe. But you're still very young. There are many paths open to you."
Lee looked away. He knew he could never choose another path. He was a ninja—it was his whole identity. Without it, he was nothing.
I have to become stronger. The thought burned in his mind. He had to overcome this, had to win back his sensei's belief in him.
When the med-nin left, he climbed out of bed and did push-ups on the floor of his hospital room. A nurse came in, ordered him back into bed and gave him a firm scolding, which he ignored. Later the same day, he sneaked out to the grassy lawn behind the hospital and continued his training until he collapsed and had to be brought back in on a stretcher.
After a few more incidents like that, they kept him strapped to the bed.
Denied the distraction of exercise, Lee had no defense against the growing darkness in his heart. He succumbed to despair. The days passed, and he lay motionless in bed, staring at the ceiling, almost catatonic. When Gai, Neji or Tenten came to see him, he tried his best to smile and act normal, but inside, he was numb and empty.
After a week in the hospital, he was discharged, and Gai brought him back to the apartment they shared.
Lee had thought he would feel some comfort upon returning, but there was only that cold emptiness. He stared at his bedroom. Had it been just a few weeks ago that he'd lain awake in that bed, trembling with excitement and happiness over the upcoming Chunin Exam? Had such a short time passed since he'd felt so optimistic about the future? It seemed like another life now.
"Well," said Gai, "we're home."
Lee tried to smile. For his sensei's sake, he had to pretend that he wasn't dying inside. "Yes. It is good to be home."
"Why don't you lay down and rest? I'll fix you something to eat."
"Thank you."
Gai made a plate of sandwiches. Lee ate one, though it might as well have been sawdust. Since his injury, his appetite had deserted him completely; he had to force himself to eat, and when he did, food had no taste.
And still, Gai would not meet his eyes. Each time Gai looked away, Lee felt his despair grow and deepen. He was drowning. He needed someone to reach out to him, pull him back to safety. He needed his sensei's warm, reassuring smile. But even though Gai was with him, Lee felt as if an invisible wall stood between them. He felt as if Gai were drifting further and further away, leaving him alone in the darkness, and there was nothing he could do.
"Lee, I need to go out for a few hours. Will you be all right here on your own?"
Lee sat up in bed, propped against a stack of pillows, his crutch leaning against the bedside. He gave Gai a wan smile. "I will be fine."
Gai hesitated.
Lee's physical condition was stable. There was really no reason to worry…yet somehow, Gai felt anxious about the idea of leaving his student alone here. Lee had been so listless, so quiet since his injury. His face was pale, his eyes ringed by dark circles, and he'd lost weight. Though he smiled, it never touched his eyes. Those eyes—normally so bright and clear—were dull and empty, with all the life of polished stones.
"Did you take your medication?"
"Yes, Sensei."
"Good. I'll be back in a little while, then." He paused, staring at Lee, then left the apartment.
As soon as Gai left, Lee picked up his notebook. He knew what he had to do.
He tore out a sheet of paper, picked up a pencil and began to write. It didn't take him long. He had already composed the letter in his mind; he knew what he wanted to say. When he'd finished, he lay the note on his pillow, then reached under the mattress and pulled out a kunai.
He'd hidden it there a long time ago, in case he was ever attacked in his bed and had to defend himself. A ninja, he knew, had to be prepared for every possibility. But now the sharp blade would serve a different purpose.
Lee tucked the kunai under his arm and picked up the framed picture of Team Gai he kept beside his bed. He hugged the photo against his chest for a moment, tears welling in his eyes. Then, leaning on his crutch, he limped down the hall, into the bathroom. Walking was still difficult for him, and each step sent a hot jolt of pain up his spine. But it didn't matter. Soon enough, the pain would be over.
He filled the tub with warm water and placed the photo on the bathroom counter, where he'd be able to see it in his last moments. Then he lay his crutches aside and knelt by the tub. With the kunai, he cut away the cast on his left arm. Beneath, the limb was swollen, bruised and puffy. The sight of it made him a little sick.
Not much longer, now. Soon, he would be free of this shattered, useless body. And Gai would be free of him. He would not be stuck taking care of a failure.
Forgive me, Sensei. I tried...
He took a deep breath. Then, with the kunai's point, he opened his wrists.
-To be continued
AN: For those who were wondering, I decided to rewrite this first chapter and start the story at an earlier point, which is why I took it down temporarily. Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated.