Five Stages of Grief

1. Denial – it can't be happening

They were the first to reach the crime scene but it was already too late. A few crows were already pecking on the open wound of the body. The body was lacerated by something sharp akin to sword cut. It was a gruesome sight. A lesser person would have thrown up, but not a veteran anbu like her.

Her eyes traveled along the body and stopped sharply when they reached the corpse's battered face and unseeing eyes. She froze when recognition struck her. It couldn't be him. This wasn't the face that she had memorized all too well at all.

He was practicing some kenjutsu at the training ground when she arrived. He seemed so engrossed in his training that he hadn't noticed her arriving. Not wanting to interrupt him, she just stood aside and watched him silently until he finished his katas.

"Hi."

Surprised at the sound of another voice, he had jumped slightly and had almost dropped his katana before he turned to face her.

"Oh, hello. Sorry, I didn't notice you were here."

"That was awesome. Will you show me again?"

"Um… okay. Thanks."

His face turned slightly pink for her compliment and she thought he looked very, very cute. Then he showed her his katas once more. His moves were so graceful and beautiful that she couldn't tear her gaze from him. She almost forgot why she came in the first place.

It must be a genjutsu. That must be it.

"Kai!" she did the necessary hand seal and dispelled the genjutsu. Nothing happened. She repeated and again, nothing happened. There wasn't any genjutsu - just reality.

2. Anger-Why him?

She wasn't grateful when her teammates chased away the crows. No, she wasn't grateful at all. She felt like screaming, tearing down her mask, killing something or someone. At the corner of her eyes, she could see his sword lying there, broken, just like its master. She bent down to pick the broken sword up with her gloved hand.

"Tell me who killed him. Say something."

"Captain? Did you say something?" Hiroshi, the rookie anbu of her team asked unwittingly. He only joined the team a month ago and he didn't know the relationship between his captain and the victim.

She ignored her teammate as if she hadn't heard him. She continued to tighten the ball of her fist around the broken blade until it drew blood from her palm. She barely registered the pain of her palm as it was nothing compared to the wound of her heart.

"Captain Uzuki?" Hiroshi asked again, this time wary of his captain's strange behaviour.

"Captain, leave this to us." Tenzhou, the veteran anbu on her team spoke calmly. "Go inform the Hokage and ask for backup."

"Yes, sir."

But she wasn't listening to what they said at all.

"Can I try?" she once asked him, just to distract him from his cough.

He merely smiled and handed over his katana. She took it from him, appraising the unfamiliar weight in her hands. He stood aside and began to instruct her verbally the katas that was needed to perform the kenjutsu.

It was far more complicated than she ever thought. Katana wasn't her specialty after all. She was better with kunai and shuriken. She lost her balance and nearly tripped one time when she swung the katana a little too hard. He caught her in time before she fell and hurt herself. She flushed in embarrassment.

"Hayate… I think this'll be enough for this time."

"I guess so."

He broke off the contact and rubbed his neck sheepishly.

That was the first time he taught her kenjutsu. Subsequently, there were second, third, forth time... Her kenjutsu advanced pretty quickly with his help. He had even commented once that she had the potential and talent to surpass him one day. His eyes shone ruefully for a second when he said it, but they recovered so quickly that she was left wondering if she had just imagined it.

She never asked him to teach her kenjutsu ever since but now she never had the chance again. Silently she wept, even with her mask on.

3. Depression – Nothing matters to me now that he's gone

"You haven't sleep for days, have you? Stop doing this to yourself, Yuugao. You know he wouldn't want to see you like this." Genma said firmly, his dark eyes trained intently on her face.

She hadn't sleep for the whole week since Hayate's burial. She trained her kenjutsu day and night, determined to learn every moves of Crescent Moon Dance. As a result, she almost resembled Hayate with dark eye bags and pale, bloodless face. Her chakra was dangerously low and even her adrenaline was nearly burned out. The only thing that kept her going was her sheer will.

She ignored Genma completely and continued her katas until he finally stepped in and pinned her on the wall.

"I said stop. You hear me? Nothing you do will bring him back." He shook her shoulders so hard as if he was trying to knock some sense into her.

Yet she never felt so numb.

"I understand why you're doing this. But for your own sake, if not for his sake, you can't go on like this. He needs you to live on. We need you," he almost pleaded to her.

She didn't answer. She just collapsed to her knees and passed out.

4. Internalizing – If only I…

In the last moment of his life, she wasn't by his side. And Yuugao hated herself for that. Maybe if she was, he wouldn't be killed. Or at the very least, they could die together. Not like now, where she could only trace his name on the cold surface of the black stone with her fingers.

Every time she watched him practicing, her heart would ache. Sometimes he was forced to stop his dance mid-way when the spasm of coughing overtook him. Her heart tightened with every spasm of his cough. But all she could do was to stroke his backs in slow circles and wait for his cough to cease.

Hayate was just as stubborn as his illness. Yuugao knew it was killing him. But she couldn't bring herself to ask him to quit, not when he was looking never more alive as he danced. It hurt too much to see him hurt like that. Even now the wound was still throbbing somewhere deep inside her.

If only she had made him quit being ninja, would he be alive? Or would he hate her if she did? She could find no answers to those questions no matter how hard she thinks.

5. Acceptance – It's going to be okay

Her katana gleamed in cold, pale blue light under the moonlight as she drew it out from its sheath. Her hand moved fluidly from hilt till tip and back to hilt as she wiped its blade with a cloth and some oil. She only sheathed it back when she was satisfied that its surface was free from any residue of dirt. Then she repeated the motion of sheathing and drawing out her katana for a few times until she perfected her motion. With that, she began her katas – step, slash, turn, slash, leap, slash. Again and again.

No one except Genma seemed to understand. But it's alright, she didn't need them to. This was the only way she could continue Hayate's dream for him, so that he could live on, so that he won't be forgotten and diminished into a name carved on the black stone. And she hadn't given up on that.

She could never forget the way his eyes gleamed when he vowed, "One day, I shall dance the most perfect Crescent Moon Dance in Konoha's history."

And he had held true to his words even as he breathed his last breath. It was his best and his last dance. She knew it was perfect the moment she saw the deep arc that carved into the wall on the rooftop where she found him.

Feeling her eyes began to burn with tears, she sheathed her katana. Besides she had a mission on the next morning. She still had a few hours left before she met her team at the West Gate.

"Good night, Hayate. Till next time."