Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
As I said before in my other recently added story:
For people who are interested in my writings, I'm so sorry that I'm so inconsistent. But as a once great writer said,
"Creativity is not something that you can turn on like a faucet." –Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes.
Anyways, I truly think about my stories, the ones I've started and new ones too, all the time. However, since I'm very picky, very little actually makes it onto paper, and even less makes it on to the website. It's especially difficult to add to stories that I already have going on. Since I clearly like the stories well enough (how they're written, as well as plot) to actually put it up online, I could never bring myself to mar it with an imperfect chapter, just for the sake of keeping the story moving.
Sooo…. I understand that all y'all are really annoyed, and this is not an excuse – merely an explanation.
Anyways! A couple of these stories that I have out, I'm planning to compile them all into one major story… well, we'll see what happens.
---------------------------
It was at that moment that I knew.
Staring down at his face, he looked serene, the only thing giving him away the blueness of his lips and the trickle of blood down his temple.
Cyanosis, extreme shock, concussion. the medic-nin part of my brain registered.
I'd seen hundreds like this – each time, I would sigh, announce the time of death, and fill out the appropriate papers. Just today, I'd witnessed dozens.
I've learned to adjust, to compartmentalize. Hell, every medic-nin has to in order to survive the day. The only thing was, I never wanted to become cold; so I left a little crack open in my wall of self-defense.
This face brought it crumbling down around me. My tears mixed in with the rain, and inexplicably, I began reciting to myself:
Rule #25: A Shinobi never shows his tears.
Yet, I was always just a little too late, just as I was too late to stop the tears from spilling over. Too late to help my teammates. Too late to save Sasuke from himself. Even through my tears, I chuckled at the irony of it all. Of all of his habits I hated, I had to pick up the one I hated most; tardiness.
"Late again!" we shouted, pointing furiously at the jounin.
His eye crinkled into a slight smile. "I got lost on the road of life."
But I wasn't about to let this become part of my long lists of mistakes; it's not too late yet, damnit! This man…this man was my anchor in life. First as a mentor, then as a friend, and now…
Kakashi!