Kakashi picked up a paper sitting on his student's desk. He read the poem:

Death is what I think of
It won't stop bothering me
Keeping my mind off death
That's my job

Death again
Won't keep out
Sheltered life is what I live
Only...

Death won't go
Friends
They keep me in line
They help

Death fades
My friends make me laugh
Only...
It happens again

Death returns
My mind returns to its job
Then it happens blood dripping
My mind failed me

Death is my fate
It won't stop nagging me
What about your friends?
I see the sobbing over my casket

Death is repeating its self
Next is my friends
One by one I see their fate
Just like mine over before it even
begins

His eyes widened. 'Reiko, what's going on with you?' those where his thoughts. He ran until he found her. She was training.She looked like nothing was wrong but the peom said differently.

"Reiko!" Kakashi bellowed.

"What?"she turned to face him.

"What is this?"in hand he held the poem.

Her eyes widened. "What...how?...You went into my room?"

Her anger was shown on her features.

Reiko's POV

I was training when all of a sudden my sensei appeared with something in his hand.

"Reiko!" Kakashi bellowed.

"What?" I asked as Iturned to him.

"What is this?" I looked at the paper he held in his hand...it was the poem I wrote last night. My eyes widened.

"What...how?...You went into my room?" I was sure my anger seeped through my careful features. He nodded, I ran right past him. My hidden emotions were now shown. I never wanted them to find out, but one of them did...and soon the rest would know.

The next day

I went to meet everyone early...but Kakashi had told them. How I knew this? Naruto ran to me and started asking me questions. Sakura did a wrist check, and Sasuke, who normally hates me, kept watching me where he thought I was looking away.

"What is everyone's problem? I didn't do anything, just get the fuck over it!"

Everyone looked at me, startled. I couldn't take it any more, I ran. I soon appeared in front of my house. I locked myself up in my room, and cried. No one trusted me. That's when I did it. I cut myself, and I bled to death. My poem came true. Even the part about my friends. I soon saw my clostest friends doing what I did.