Don't own Naruto

The Art of War

All warfare is based on deception – Sun Tzu

Prologue: Visit From the Past

Kakashi stumbled through the door way of his apartment, a spatter of blood trailing behind him. His hand slid up and down the wall next to the door, feeling around for a light switch. He couldn't seem to find it though, and where that damn elusive light switch was he didn't know – or care. His mind was too clouded with things like pain and hunger and exhaustion to worry about something as trivial as a lighted room.

He left the door slightly ajar and wandered into his kitchen. He couldn't get rid of the pain, but he could get rid of the hunger and, eventually, the exhaustion. So for now, stopping the aching pangs in his stomach was his first priority. That is, if there was even anything to eat – which there probably wasn't. And he was right in assuming there wasn't anything. When he opened the refrigerator door the only things to be found were some juice (which tasted fermented when he took a swig of it), and a box of dog treats he had put there a while back so they'd last longer.

I guess I could go to the store

That idea seemed far off though. Even in the dim, almost black, room Kakashi could see the ruby red trail of his own blood coating his kitchen floor. He would have laughed, if his throat wasn't so raw, at the look on the cashier's face as he trudged into the store, covered in blood and filth, and tried to purchase groceries.

"No store then," he muttered to himself.

If Kakashi should have been going anywhere, it was to the hospital. But he had never been one for hospitals, and wasn't about to start now. At least.. not tonight. Maybe tomorrow if things got bad enough. It was dark out, but the glowing red light from a clock on the counter told him that it was actually morning, 4:07 AM to be exact. Hopefully he'd still be alive later on and go then. But more than likely, he'd end up patching his wounds on the three legged table in his living room rather than actually having a professional do it. Hospital visits were expensive anyway.

Kakashi lumbered out onto his couch, falling with a hard thump. The couch was lumpy and thin, and not the best thing for his tired body at the moment. But his bed was just the same, and he mostly slept on the couch anyway: it was closer to the door than his bedroom. And Kakashi, who seemed to be on constant active duty, was always on the go.

He slipped his ANBU mask off and pulled his regular mask down, but left his uniform on, and settled down on the ragged piece of furniture that had definitely seen better days. "Damn..."

His mission hadn't gone as it was supposed to. It had started as a recon mission, but ended up more like a recovery mission when one of their ANBU was taken in a surprise assault. In the end, not only did the abducted ANBU die, but two more were killed in the attempted retrieval. He had managed to fail his mission and get himself severely wounded. What a week it had turned out to be.

Kakashi turned over onto his side, ready to sleep and put his thoughts to rest, but gasped aloud when a sharp, stabbing sensation surged through his stomach. Pain surged through his limbs toward his abdomen; it felt like someone was gutting him. He brought a hand down to touch his stomach, only to find it coated with sticky blood. There was even more blood spurting onto the couch, staining its off white fabric crimson. Was there that much blood before? It seemed like there was more blood leaking onto his couch than pumping in his body. A small pool was forming on the floor and Kakashi realized he could very well bleed out right there in his living room.

"I should go see a medic."

"...Like Rin," another voice suggested.

He stopped breathing for a moment, taken by surprise at the hushed voice that had popped out of nowhere. There was no chakra signal, but someone was definitely there. He remained still but trailed his blood shot eyes over to where the voice had come from. His vision was blurred, but not enough for the dark outline of a figure, a boy, perched on the arm of his couch to go unseen.

So he had come. No wonder Kakashi hadn't noticed the presence more quickly... ghosts could be pretty cunning when they wanted to be. But whether the boy was actually a ghost or his imagination Kakashi wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure about was that this particular ghost, figment of his imagination, thing only showed up when he was at his worst – like now, bleeding out on his couch.

He had been seventeen the first time it happened. It was in the coniferous forests somewhere along the border of the Land of Stone, and he had been hiding from enemy Iwa ANBU. Sometime during his escape three poisoned senbon had punctured his neck; and as he had lain against a rock, foam bubbling from his mouth and his eyes rolling, he had seen the undead boy smiling there beside him, and thought he had died. But he hadn't died, just like he wasn't dead yet now.

Silence enveloped the room again and the boy was no longer speaking. Just staring at him through unseeing eyes.

"Have you come to take me?" Kakashi asked in a daze. His question was like a line from a corny movie, asking his guardian angel if it was 'time'; but Kakashi knew all too well this boy was more like an angel of death rather than a guardian angel…

"Not yet," the boy replied. His voice was firm but faint, like a hissing whisper.

Kakashi could hardly keep his eyes open to watch him, the side effects of losing so much blood seemed to have taken their toll. His vision blurred in and out of focus as the dark mass slid off the couch and lurched unevenly forward to stand by him, an audible squelching noise could be heard as he went.

Despite all the horrors Kakashi had witnessed while being an ANBU, the sound made him nauseous.

The boy began to crouch and Kakashi's heart started thrumming: he didn't want to be close to this ghostly child. As they became eye level a thick smell of dirt and decaying flesh waffled in the air. In his new position kneeling by the couch, a few thin shafts of moonlight streamed from the window and illuminated his shadowed face, showing Kakashi what he already knew was there.

"Obito, why are you here?"

The face of his old chuunin friend stared back at him through the darkness. Except... it wasn't quite right. It wasn't his friend's face. It wasn't the face of the once lively boy Kakashi had known. This face was bloody and broken, the right side crushed and pulpy; dirt matted his black tufts of hair. "No reason in particular," Obito murmured. Flecks of blood sprung out from his disfigured mouth as he spoke.

Three times he had visited Kakashi before, and each time he expected to see something similiar to a decayed zombie corpse, like in movies or books. It would have been easier that way, if Obito was completely unrecognizable. If he was just a lump of rotted meat and bone, it would have been easier for Kakashi to forget it was his friend who was visiting him, haunting him. But Obito looked exactly the same as Kakashi remembered him, except for the crushed side of this body, of course. His features were as unchanged as the final time he had laid eyes on him in that cave in the Land of Grass. As he peered at Obito's blood smeared face, uncontrollable waves of guilt and despair flooded Kakashi's conscience.

"All my fault!" Kakashi lamented. His voice cracked from the dirt coating his throat, causing a fit of coughing. Obito rolled Kakashi onto his side, easing the spasms and bringing their faces closer at the same time.

"I m-must really be fucked up si-"

"Since I'm here," Obito finished his sentence. His voice held a calm serenity, but gurgled harshly as the words escaped his crushed throat. He brought a pale hand up to touch the wound on Kakashi's stomach, the coldness that radiated off Obito felt like it was permeating his bones.

The dead boy's icy fingers brushed against his skin and it was almost too much for Kakashi to bear. The white, almost translucent, hand of his friend was almost upon him. Coming to touch his wound with those dead hands. Coming to bring Kakashi's face a little bit closer to his dead one. Coming to stare at him with that single dead eye.

And his other eye...

"No! Go away!" Kakashi jerked wildly away from his touch. "You're not real!"

Obito's arm fell slack at his side again. "I'm not?"

"No! Just my imagination... nothing more."

The good side of Obito's face twisted into a frown. "Hm, maybe so. But then that would mean I'm just another part of you."

"Exactly!" Kakashi wheezed.

"Fine," he hissed. "I'll go. But let me tell you something first: a truth, of sorts. One I'm sure you already know." Obito leaned in, so close Kakashi could smell freshly upturned soil, and whispered into his ear. "This should be you, Kakashi, not me."

The bitterness in his words made Kakashi flinch. He moved to get up, to pull Obito back, but his weak legs wouldn't support him and he flopped face first onto the floor.

"Wait, Obito! I-I didn't mean it!" Kakashi cried reaching out to his friend. "Don't go!"

Obito hovered over him, the corners of his mouth turned up into what looked like a forlorn smile. "See you soon." Then he turned to leave, walking toward the living room wall. His body dissolved into the darkness without a sound and Kakashi let out a distressed cry as the last of Obito's head sunk into the wall. He had come, and now he was gone. Despite how Kakashi felt, the world was still turning, the clock was still ticking. His friend was gone and things would continue to go on. Even if Obito wasn't around to witness it.

But their conversation still echoed in Kakashi's brain and it felt more painful than the wound on his stomach. He let out another groan and pressed his forehead against the hard, cold surface of his floor before becoming unconcious, Obito's ominous farewell already fading as he slipped away.

'Knock. Knock. Knock.'

The sound reverberated in Kakashi's ears, stirring him from a dreamless sleep. That damned alarm clock. He let out an incoherent mumble against the floor and flung his arm out in an attempt to hit the top of his alarm clock, silencing it for good. He sat up and winced as crusted blood that had dried on his skin was pulled free by his movement. Outside his window the sky was still a deep navy, but a fringe of pink forming on the horizon told him it was close to dawn. He hadn't been asleep for long.

'Knock. Knock. Knock.'

The noise occurred again. But this time the jounin realized it was knocking, like someone on a door, and not the beeping of his alarm clock. Following the sound, his eyes landed on the window. A person, a black silhouette against the now rosy sky, was crouched on the ledge outside his apartment. His heart sank and he pressed his back against the couch frantically in a pathetic attempt to put distance between himself and the window.

He's back!

But when he took a closer look it wasn't Obito. An ANBU was waiting for him outside. Dressed in all black with a gleaming white porcelain mask, the ANBU knocked again. What did they need with him now?

The ANBU outside, obviously not expecting to be invited in, stumbled through onto the floor when Kakashi abruptly opened the window.

"Kakashi-senpai!" He scrambled to his feet. "You're back! I heard you were, but I wasn't sure."

The high pitched voice, the nervous clumsiness, the calling him 'senpai'. Kakashi inwardly groaned. It was Tenzou. He was only a few years younger than Kakashi, fifteen at the least, and had been recruited a couple of months ago. Unfortunately (in Kakashi's opinion), he had taken it upon himself to make Kakashi his idol and adore him in nearly every way.

"Is that all you came here for, Tenzou?" Kakashi asked, not bothering to hide the annoyed tone in his voice.

The younger boy was about to answer him, but took one at Kakashi's deathly appearance and about had a conniption fit. "Kakashi-senpai, what happened to you?" He questioned shrilly, running to his senpai's side. "You need to go to the hospital!"

"You don't have to tell me what I already know," Kakashi snapped back, shrugging away from his kouhai's touch. But Tenzou wouldn't listen and continued to assault his silver-haired senpai, prodding him in the stomach and searching for bandages in one of his ninja pouches.

"Seriously, Tenzou. Stop. Do I look dead to you?"

Tenzou's face was hidden but his voice was filled with concern. "No, but you look pretty close."

"I would take you to the hospital myself, but," he handed Kakashi a slip of paper, "the Hokage is summoning you. He wants you in his office. Now."

"Now?"

"Yeah," Tenzou answered uneasily. "I don't know why though, if that's what you're wondering."

When Kakashi arrived in front of the Hokage's Office, the door was already unlocked. Opening it he stood still, blinking dumbly as bright light assaulted his unaccustomed eyes, before going inside. The Yondaime sat at his desk, writing under the light of a desk lamp, before looking up at him as he entered. A single chair was pulled up in front of his desk and no other ANBU or assistants appeared to be present, though the slight tingle of well hidden chakra signals told him that several ANBU were in fact in the room. Upon request he took off his ANBU mask and pulled the chair out to take a seat.

"Why did you summon me?" Kakashi questioned immediately as he sat down. He tried not to sound impatient despite the fact that he had barely gotten any sleep, felt like shit, and was already being summoned to a meeting when he hadn't even been back in Konoha for four hours.

"Well, you're late on your mission report for one thing– "

"The real reason," he cut the older man off. He was too wary to play games with his old sensei. His body was eagerly protesting every movement he made, and he just wanted to get to the hospital so he could go back home.

"Are you okay? You don't seem like yourself." Minato's eyes flickered with concern.

"I..." For a mere second, the idea of telling his ex-sensei about what had occured earlier flashed across his mind, but he decided against it. He had never uttered a single breath to anyone about Obito's visits, not even to Rin, and wasn't about to start now.

Plus, he didn't want anyone to question his sanity; his confessions of being haunted by ghosts would definitely get him taken off active duty. "It's nothing, sorry. I'm fine..." Kakashi sighed weakly and rested his head against the back of the chair.

After receiving his summons, Kakashi, like any respectable ANBU, had reported right away, not bothering to change his blood stained clothes. He had rushed over, opening up wounds that had never healed in the first place, and now new red blotches were staining in with the old ones; something that hadn't escaped past his ex-sensei observant gaze.

"After we've finished here I order you to go to the hospital," the Yondaime eyed Kakashi's bloody form nervously. "I know how you tend to neglect things..."

"It's okay, I was going to go anyway," he assured the worried man in front of him.

"Well, just in case," two ANBU appeared silently behind him, "I'll send them with you. For safety."

Kakashi agreed and the Yondaime continued on with their previous conversation, cutting straight to the point. "I'm sending you on an S-ranked joint mission."

S-ranked, not unusual. But joint? That was unusual. Kakashi frequently went on solo missions or group missions, but rarely joint ones.

"Joint?"

"Yes." The blond Hokage rolled a small scroll across his desk. "It's not the actual mission scroll, just some basic info. Since you'll be captain I thought you should know a little beforehand. And this," he handed Kakashi a small drawstring pouch, "is for your cover."

Kakashi opened the pouch, poking at the contents inside. He picked out a small piece of cardstock and started reading it; the Hokage watching with unbridled amusement as his expression went from unreadable, to surprised, and then to confused.

"Just who am I going on this mission with?"

"I know you've been busy lately, so I'll give you some leeway. You can choose who you take with you for this mission."

Kakashi pulled on the strings of the pouch, securing it to his ANBU waist band. "Anyone?"

"Anyone. Do you have someone specific in mind?"

"Actually, I think I do."

A/N: Haha, I hope the title's not too corny. This is my first multi-chapter story and I'm still a really inexperienced writer so it's not super amazing or anything. With that being said I'd LOVE constructive criticism about my writing so I can get better. So please review. I'll update soon. See you later, m'beci.