The sun is blinding, he thinks as he sinks down, his back against a tree. His next thought is, I don't want to die alone.

He knows he is weak to be thinking such things. He is ANBU, he doesn't show weakness. He shouldn't wish for anything as childish as that. Regardless, the thought prevailed.

I don't want to die alone.

He vaguely notes in his subconscious that his mind is not panicked enough for someone who is dying. He concludes, thoughts slowing, that he is accepting it. He thought he had long ago.

Is this how Obito felt?

He signed his life away when he entered ANBU, he knows that. He's been lucky, up to now. He lasted five years. He should be proud.

He isn't.

Minato-sensei, Kushina-nee... they were lucky to have died beside each other.

Against his will, he wants that. Wants to have someone. Anyone.

I'm pathetic.

The world is unfair, he thinks as he stares down through his porcelain mask to look at his trembling hands. Why?

It's a calm question, like how one might ask how someone's day was going.

Is this how Rin felt?

That the world is unfair. Cruel.

No, he rebukes himself, she was only thinking of duty.

Why am I not?

He is dying because of his mission. And he succeeded- he sent his partner ahead to report, holding back the enemy ninja himself.

Why am I regretting that? I got my wish. I'm joining them.

I don't want to die alone.

When he wakes up, he wonders when he passed out. It's a fleeting thought, quickly overridden by the incoming voices he hears. Not bothering to waste time thinking about why he hasn't bled out yet, all he can do is heave himself deeper into the shade of the tree.

Mind clearer than before, he withdraws the tiny scrap of chakra he has, burying it deep inside him and masking it's presence completely.

Breathing ruggedly, blood rasping softly in his throat with each breath he takes, he closes his eyes. It's not the wisest choice with three - no, four, he identifies a fourth, young, sharp voice among the three other chattering ones - ninja of unknown loyalties, but, he thinks, at this point, what's there to lose?

His mind replies, Gai. Tenzo. Genma. Itachi. Shisui. Raidou.

Naruto.

But he's stubborn, proven as he lists reasons to himself about why they won't miss him.

Gai might, but he'll find a new 'eternal rival'. ANBU teammates? They'll get a new captain. Naruto? He doesn't even know my name.

There is no one for me.

Through the haze of pain, he distantly realizes he's probably being selfish. Of course they'll miss me.

He thinks he's trying to convince himself otherwise because by dying here, he's causing them pain. He knows he doesn't deserve their grief.

He can't dwell on those thoughts much longer, though. The voices are nearing him, getting closer and louder.

They're almost familiar, reminding him of days years past.

("Sensei," a boy's voice drags out, with terrible puppy-dog eyes to accompany the words. "Please?"

"No," the group's sensei is firm, but kind in his refusal to give in.

"Begging like that is unbecoming of ninja," a cold voice bites.

Seeing the first boy rearing and readying a retort, the only girl of the group pleads, "Please don't fight."

They give in - never able to resist her.

"Anyway," the sensei cuts in, "someone's waiting for us at the ramen stand, we can't change plans now."

The cold voice from before has a clear smug tone to it, "You're just scared."

The sensei flinches, eyes flickering wildly, "Shhh! If she heard that!"

The two boys and one girl snicker in unison.)

While he's reminiscing, the group quiets. They've probably spotted me.

He's right. Footsteps walk towards him, slow and cautious. Stiffening automatically, he has to try to stifle the pain it causes. He winces when he fails, gasping lowly in agony. It's not much sound, but the approaching footsteps pause for a moment and a whispered command floats back to where he imagines the other three are.

Then the footsteps become hurried, until leaves are crunching right in front him. The air shifts as the person crouches down, but he doesn't open his eyes to look, afraid of what he'll see.

The voices that were talking are so familiar. Achingly familiar. The chakra signatures, too.

I died alone. If these are- are them. I was alone, I died.

Sparks go off in his mind. Eyes firmly squeezed shut, he scrambles frantically away, not getting farther than a couple feet before a strong, soothing voice calls out softly, "Hey, hey, ANBU-san, it's alright. I'm from Konoha as well, see?" A sound like fingernails tapping metal rings out, accompanying the man's attempt to calm him down with comforting words

He froze.

I- I kn- It's him. Them.

He cracks his eyes open, and almost gets blinded. The sun is behind the figure still crouching in front of him - now a couple more feet away - and it's bright, so unbearably bright.

Light, he thinks, slightly deliriously. Light. Maybe I'm dying still. Hallucinating. Yeah. Must be. Impossible. Too bright. Light. Yellow.

And the figure is yellow. Or at least, his hair is blond.

Really blond. Blindingly blond. Yellow. Really, really bright.

Subconsciously, he recognizes he's probably going into shock, coupled with delirium from blood loss. But mostly shock, he thinks, gaze captured by the jounin in front of him

The man crouching in front of him has blue eyes. That is a fact that he can latch on to. Sky blue, but darker. Calmer, more like the sea than the flowing winds of the sky.

"ANBU-san," the blond jounin tries again. "Where are you injured?"

He groans in pain again as he pushes thoughts of the blond and his team out of his mind, focusing instead on the source of his pain. A gaping, gushing wound, located on his side seems to be the worst.

"Ah, there. Alright," the jounin smiles at the downed ANBU. "Rin-chan over here is a medic. She'll help you until we can get back to Konoha, hmm?"

But he doesn't register the blond's words, consciousness fading and black peace engulfing him.

When he wakes, he's less delirious, more aware. He shivers as a cold breeze from an open window brushes his arms and travels. Gazing around the room, he notes detachedly that it's a Konoha hospital room - the thing he hates most in his life.

White, bare walls with one window big enough for all shinobi to swing in easily, except maybe an Akimichi, one door opposite the bed, and an uncomfortable, barely padded, white bed.

He groans. Not dead, then. Guess I really was hallucinating.

He breathes a sigh of relief. Just a Konoha hospital room.

A second later, his world shakes as the door to the room opens. Four faces peek out, almost comically stacked one above the next. Blond and blue at the top, then black with black, brown with a lighter brown, and finally, silver hair and two, black eyes.

Now that he's not delirious - and he knows he isn't, not now anyway - he freezes at the sight before him.

"Sorry about this ANBU-san, we got you here only about a couple hours ago, and my students wanted to see how you were doing," the tall blond flashes an apologetic smile, crinkled eyes and all, and the shocking familiarity of it makes him take a shuddering breath in. Alarm flashes in the jounin's bright - oh, sage, it's you - eyes, his yellow - so bright, how? - blond hair has a hand - doesn't seem that big now - in it in worry, displacing the already slightly ruffled - just like she liked it, huh? - locks.

"Are you alright?" a soft, girl's voice piped up, concern shining in her light brown eyes.

No, no, nonononono.

He's not alright. Hands grabbing the white sheet next to him, thin fabric the only thing keeping his nails from piercing the palms of his hands and drawing blood, the only thing preventing his hands from being covered in blood, again.

Blood - Rinshe'sherealivenotbleedingholeredhands. His thoughts rush and race, being pulled, dragged, forced-

(He didn't think it would end this way. He would take care of the Kiri nin or die trying. None of the scenarios his genius brain considered and calculated and plotted ended up like this. Rin was the one thing in all of them he protected with his very life if need be, never to be touched by others, let alone hurt.

He didn't think it would be like this, his hand sticking out a torso, coming out the other side red and soaking, feeling her breath and heartbeat stutter and falter but her mouth forming soundless words, his sharp ears only picking up on the last, choked word.

"Ka-ka-shi."

His name. Of course, his name.)


A/N: This was just a little blurb I spat out maybe a couple months ago. was scrolling through all my google docs and spotted this, and thought that I should really publish something. And, once again, to all my TMTJE readers, I'm am so very sorry for the most recent large gap in updating. Honestly, I'm looking back and going, "Oh, wow, that's pretty horrible" when I look at it, and I don't know where I'm going with it. I may rewrite it... let me know what you think about that. It might become a present-tense story like this if I do, and I won't delete the old version, so don't worry about that.

Anyway, speaking of present-tense, let me know what you think about this. I may or may not make a second chapter or more, so please tell me if you'd like that or if you think it should just stay a one-shot.

Have a nice whatever-time-of-day-you're-reading-this-at~!