I watched the silver haired man cough violently. The gagging noise he made was making me feel nauseous. He stumbled to his knees, his arms wrapped around his bloody vest. Hastily I knelt in front of him and tore off his mask. My eyes widened as the blood that had been trapped in poured out onto his vest and my hands. I laid him on the ground and tried to stop the blood flow from the other parts of his body.

"You! Get a medic! Quick!" I yelled at a fellow shinobi.

I had been teamed up with three men I didn't know. We had completed our mission in utter silence. It had been relatively easy, but it was a set up. After we had seemingly dispatched of the rouge-nins, many more set upon us as we returned home. It was our fault really. We hadn't been paying much attention.

The silver haired man had been their main target. I didn't know why. One of my comrades was killed. The survivor, silver hair, and I were able to eliminate the enemy but at a heavy cost. One death and silver hair was severely injured.

As 'Survivor' sped off I removed Silver hair's vest and shirt. I quickly pulled out my supply of disinfectant and bandages. I hesitated for a moment, then placed my hand near his throat and shot a small amount healing chakra into him. To my immense relief, his coughing stopped.

"Thanks," he whispered. I nodded briskly and dampened a cloth I found in my bag with the small amount of water in my canteen. I went about wiping the blood away from his face and body. As I examined him, I had a gut feeling he wouldn't live if help didn't come soon. I stopped as I felt a tug on my wrist.

"Could- you do me a favor?" He asked, his voice hoarse. I gave him a soft smile.

"Sure," I told him while I wrapped a bandage around his waist. He hissed in pain and I quickly apologized.

"Don't…worry about…it," he gasped. "I need someone …to tell…my team that I won't be…meeting them…tomorrow." I could feel my eyes soften and my mouth curve into a frown. I wiped a clean part of the moist cloth across his forehead.

"Shh. Alright." Once again I hesitated, but I reached out and squeezed the man's hand.

"Give me some names."

"Haruno….Uzumaki.."

"Ok. I'll look'em up. Where is he? You need to get to the hospital."

"Don't…like hospitals."

"Stop talking. Relax," I urged him.

I stood up as I heard Survivor coming back. He leapt to the ground and was followed by three medic nins. One of them cursed.

"Can you do anything?" I asked feeling desperate.

"We can't take him back like this." One knelt next to him and felt his chest.

"We have to. There's almost nothing we can do here."

"But if we take him on a stretcher more damage will be done!"

"Will you do something already?!" I snapped, motioning to the invalid man. His breathing sounded raspy. One hesitantly nodded and gestured to another. Silver hair was gently placed on a stretcher and speedily taken from the area.

I chased after the medics. I didn't want to leave Silver hair alone just yet. I silently trailed behind them and entered the hospital with them. They called for more medics. Silver hair was wheeled into a room that I wasn't allowed to enter. I sat outside for a long time. At last a medic walked out of the room. I stood up wearily.

"Excuse me…is he still alive?" I knew the answer wouldn't be positive before the medic even spoke.

"I'm sorry. He doesn't have much time. If the Godaime were here she could probably save him." I frowned.

"Can you tell me what his name was?" The medic seemed surprised that I didn't know. Did they think ninjas always knew whom they were working with? Konoha's a big village. I can't know everyone.

"It was…well is-Hatake. Hatake Kakashi." I was stunned. I had been working with one of the greatest shinobi of my time and I hadn't even known.

"Can I see him now?"

"Y-yeah." I sidestepped the stuttering medic and walked into the room. I sniffed at the odd smell all hospital rooms seem to share. I looked down at the man lying on the table.

"Hey." His head turned in my direction. I didn't like looking at him. Pipes of every size and color were sticking out of him.

"You look like a pincushion," I blurted out. He started to laugh and began coughing again. I mentally kicked myself.

"Sorry. You alright?"

"Yeah. Why-are you here?" I shrugged and edged a little closer to his 'bed'.

"They said you're dying."

"That's…cheerful…news," he heaved with a touch of sarcasm.

"I don't think it's true. Worst things have happened to you I've heard."

"What…have you heard?" I grimaced at his wheezing. I surveyed all the machinery that surrounded him. My eyes glance back down at him and I swallowed. Even though he looked like a pincushion and machines were the only things keeping his soul pinned to the earth he was still able to radiate a sense of greatness.

"That you've held off forty men on your own. Your Chidori is supposed to be the most terrifying, awe-inspiring technique ever seen. People have told me that you've copied over 1,000 techniques. You're amazing." I felt my cheeks flush as I realized I was babbling like a child. The man smiled.

"Nice to…know…I have a…fan. Thanks," he whispered. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and fell down his face.

"Tell Naruto Uzumaki…and Sakura Haruno…I said…good luck…and bye."

To this day, I'm still shaken from that meeting in the hospital room. One can only feel a bit less secure when they watch a hero die and I'm certain I watched one of greatest.