This little idea has been lodged firmly in the back of my mind for a few weeks now. Finally, I gave up on writing anything for the stories I've been working on until I get it out of my head.

As usual, I don't own Naruto, the characters, or anything else you recognize from the series. Any parts of this story that resemble other stories or anything from real life are entirely unintentional. I'm making no money, etc., etc.

Without further ado…

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Just Another Shadow

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Shadow Clones are disposable. It's in their nature, since it takes little to disrupt the delicate web of chakra that holds them together. They die easily and often, and nobody mourns them. They are only clones after all, just shadows of their creator.

So why am I so scared?

I've done it many times. I remember each time I was dispersed. I remember every death my clones have suffered as if I lived it myself. I know, more than anyone alive right now, exactly what death is. I know exactly how it feels when my life leaves my body. I've been stabbed, burned, suffocated, drowned, crushed, poisoned, electrocuted, asphyxiated, and even frozen. I've died millions of times, and I remember each one as if I lived it.

Because I did.

But now, when I face a duplicate that I forgot about, a clone that was never dispersed after the fight during which it was born several years ago, I am afraid. I am scared to death because I simply don't know what happens next. That battle was the last time I used the Shadow Clone technique, because I was sick of dying. I was sick of losing my life in every possible way.

Then, just a moment ago, I stumbled across the duplicate, and I begin to wonder. What if the other me is the real one? What if I am the clone?

Usually, a clone knows that it's a clone. When summoned during battle, the clones always know who they are and what purpose they serve. They serve their purpose and are soon no more, whether they suffer a death at the hands of their opponent or simply are dispersed after they are of no use any more.

But my memory of the last fight I had before I ran away from Konoha is a little muddled. I couldn't think straight after witnessing as much death as I had. I simply ran, not realizing that there was another me, standing nearby. I don't think the other knew I was still there either, since he looks as surprised as I am.

He is me, in every way, but his choice that day was different. He chose to stay in Konoha, though from his clothing and his lack of weapons, it looks like he retired from the ninja life. Who knows? Maybe he could be the clone, and I could be the original? I let myself smile when I realized this, but I soon realize something else.

He is probably as terrified as I am.

The single year I had lived away from Konoha, during which I had found a new home, a new love, a true family, and a wonderful life…what did that year hold for the other? Who had he become during our time apart? Who is he now?

I work up the nerve and asked, being the first of us to say anything since we encountered each other a few minutes ago. He sighs, relaxes slightly, and answers with a smile on his face.

His life had changed as well.

His…our heroic actions during the last battle in which we participated finally convinced the village that we never deserved their hatred and that they were wrong in their belief that we were the Kyuubi itself. Promoted from Chuunin to Jounin after the awe-inspiring display, he decided to retire even before the ceremony. He had seen enough death, killed enough people, and cried enough tears. He was done with the ninja life.

Then, he found Hinata. He fell in love with her and ended up marrying her. They had a new home together in the village. He worked in a clothing shop that catered especially to ninja. He had come to make a delivery to someone from my own home town who had asked for a new outfit. Our encounter was completely by chance.

Then he asks me the same question. I do as he did and answer.

After running from the village, I lived on my own, hunting for food and camping near the river I was following. Then I found the tiny village, and the girl who had captured my heart. She worked at an inn, and I decided to help out and earn enough money to live on. We were friends, at first, but it grew into so much more. Now, we are happily married, managing the inn together.

After my story, neither of us knows what to say. Everything has already been said, but I can tell we both feel something more is necessary. One of us is about to lose our happiest memories.

You see, I know, just as the other does, that only one of us can remain. We both swore off the Shadow Clone technique for the same reason, and leaving one clone running around unchecked will cause problems later. But neither of us is ready to go, and neither of us is ready for the memories that would assault the survivor at the moment of dispersal. Neither of us is ready to experience death again.

"So this is it, huh?" the other says, finally deciding to make conversation.

"Yeah," I agree sadly. "I…I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but…I hope I'm the original."

"Me too," the other murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.

"So what do we do?" I ask. "We can't keep living two different lives as a single person. One of us has to go."

"I know," the other replies, looking down at the dirt beneath our feet. "I'm you, remember?"

"Except you're not, are you?" I realize suddenly. "You have your own life, one I never lived, just as I have my own life. The past year changed both of us so much that we really aren't the same person anymore."

He nods without saying anything. Silence reigns once more.

I let out the breath I am unconsciously holding and draw back a fist, watching the other do the same thing. "Ready?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he replies hesitantly. Without even waiting a moment, our fists slam forward, hitting each others' faces. I hear and feel my nose break. A flash of white-hot pain accompanies the injury.

Time slows to a crawl.

Then, after an eternity that lasts only a moment, I finally feel it. Something tugging at me, at my memories, at my soul, at the very essence of who I am. And in that moment, I know the truth.

He is the original, the source.

I am the clone after all.

My life flashes before my eyes, as they always say it does when you die. I forget every memory a moment after living it, as my memories are reabsorbed into the original. Gone is the time before I left Konoha. Gone is the fight that separated me from the original. Gone is my new home, my new wife, my new experiences, my new existence. As my body disappears, a tear falls from my eye.

It doesn't reach the ground before everything is swallowed up by darkness.

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The Shadow Clone Technique is a forbidden art for a reason. The massive chakra requirements have nothing to do with it. The disorientation from experiencing different sets of memories and trying to put them together is inconsequential. No, the real reason is simply that it creates a perfect clone, an exact duplicate of the user, right down to the soul. At first, I didn't realize. I suppose it was because of my inexperience with the skill. When I began experiencing their memories and recalling them as my own, I was disoriented at first, but enthusiastic. The possibilities for training were literally endless!

Then I experienced my first death, and I couldn't stop crying for a week. I had died, but I hadn't. I felt like I had lost everything that was dear to me, but I was still there, still surrounded by my precious people. Since then, I've died in every way imaginable. I've become more acquainted with death than anybody who hasn't experienced it for themselves. Sasuke thinks he lost everything? He should try living through his own death!

But I ignored the pain, dealing with it on my own time, because I had a job to do. I had a goal to achieve. I have to protect my precious people, and if I can only do that by experiencing my own death for every one of the hundred clones I summon, so be it. I can push through the despair and come out on top again, as long as my friends, my family are still there with me.

Eventually, the pain became too much, and I swore off the Shadow Clone Technique forever. Then, just as I was getting comfortable with not needing to sacrifice myself so often, I came across a leftover clone, entirely by accident.

I stand there in the street for a long time, staring straight ahead at the spot my duplicate occupied earlier, remembering what he lived through. He had told me of his life, but now I get to live every moment of it. Every happy memory and every horrible nightmare flashes before my eyes. I remember everything, and when the moment comes where I have to experience my own death again, I discover that I am crying. Whether they are the clone's tears or my own doesn't really matter. We're one and the same now.

"I'm sorry," I murmur as I turn and begin walking away. "There can only be one of us. I'm so sorry…"

My clone experienced a single happy year away from the village. He had his own life, his own goals, his own home, and his own precious people, but I took him away from them. He was just a clone, but I can't stop myself from crying for his death. This was more than a simple dispersal after a task had been completed. A clone never had such attachments to others before.

I expected the clone to be just another shadow of myself. I expected the death and the sadness, of course. But I never realized that a whole year of memories could hurt me so much. I never realized that this clone was more than just another me. It was a living, breathing person who was different from me. For once, I felt as if I had murdered a close friend, instead of sacrificing myself just one more time.

This time, I had killed a person, rather than just another shadow.

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Morbid? Yes. Where did this idea come from? Don't know. I've read some remotely-similar oneshots on this site dealing with this very concept of Shadow Clones being people, but I doubt that's where this idea came from, since it's also a pretty different take on the subject…

Anyway, tell me what you think!