Hatake Kakashi stumbled as he ran, struggling to keep his balance on the slick forest floor. Normally the rain and mud wouldn't have been a problem for the Copy-nin, except this time he was maneuvering around with a fist-sized hole in his right side.
Sliding to a stop, the Konoha shinobi quickly surveyed the surrounding forest looking for any signs of his pursuers. Thankfully, he found himself alone and breathed out an audible sigh of relief. After the run and adrenaline, he knew he needed some rest so Kakashi walked to the nearest tree and leaned heavily against it. He began to check the wound at his side and found it bleeding profusely through the hastily applied bandage. Assessing the damage, Kakashi gave himself another five to ten minutes before he passed out from blood loss.
He had been lucky. The moment the blow landed, Kakashi knew it was critical but was able to maneuver around it enough so that it wasn't instantly fatal. It had allowed him enough time to finish his assigned mission and escape back to the Fire Country.
Methodically, Kakashi began going through the mental checklist required for his mission. Even on the edge of death, he had obligations to keep his secrets, Konoha's secrets. It wasn't until he felt he had satisfied all of the criteria did he allow himself to relax. Trying not to cough, Kakashi slowly began to slide himself down the tree, his blood staining the bark above him.
Inhale.
Kakashi reminded himself as blood slowly slipped out of the sides of his mouth. He could feel the blood slowly beginning to fill his lung lungs, drowning him in his own fluids. Yet, despite all of this, the silver haired shinobi was calm and composed. The pain was intense, but bearable. Death, was something he had accepted since he was a child. So Kakashi decided that for his last few moments he would allow himself a peaceful respite.
Exhale.
Looking at the trees above him, Kakashi felt the rain soaking into his silver hair and driving down his face in rivulets. The sensation of the rain on his bare face was unfamiliar. After so many years of wearing his mask, he didn't really know why he hadn't worn it this time. This morning, he had left both his mask and his forehead protector at home. The latter was removed as required by the mission. The former, removed on a whim. It wasn't like his enemies would be able to identify him without his mask anyway; if anything the mask and sharingan would have given it away.
When he accepted this mission he knew there was a good chance that it would be his last. The thought hadn't bothered him. He had accomplished and survived many S-class missions before, and had lost count of how many times where he should have died, but by some chance of fate, had survived. It was the consequence of being gifted. You had a higher chance of survival, but you were also given the most difficult of missions. Not that he complained; it was just what was expected of him. It was the fate he had chosen.
Inhale.
The leaves above Kakashi were beginning to blur as he allowed a small sad smile to crease his lips. He wondered if he would go to the same place where Obito, Rin and Sensei were. There were many things that Kakashi regretted in his career but never once had he regretted becoming a shinobi. Since birth, it was known that Kakashi would become a great ninja; any child of the White Fang's was destined to be great. Though, Kakashi wondered if he would also see his father, if he would be proud of the path that Kakashi had taken, a path fundamentally similar to his own. At the very least, Kakashi knew his name would be carved on the memorial with his friends - a luxury that his father never had.
Exhale.
Thoughts of team seven began to flash through his mind. His former students wouldn't believe it at first. The thought of Kakashi being nearly invincible was engrained into them at 13, and continued to stay with them long after all three of them had surpassed their former teacher. Kakashi knew that Naruto would be waiting at the gate, Sakura right beside him holding his hand. The future Hokage wouldn't accept it at first, saying that Kakashi was never on time, that he had even been late to Sakura's wedding. Though in the end, it would be Sakura who would get through to him. She would pull him into an embrace and let the blonde cry. Sasuke, as usual, would put up a cool exterior, but would mourn his own way inwardly.
In the end, it would be Sakura that would hold the group together, despite the fact that it would be her that would suffer the most. Even though he was no longer their teacher or responsible for their safety or guidance, Kakashi found himself still silently watching over them, even after each had become skilled Jounin and ANBU. It was one of the few joys that Kakashi had in his life - to watch each of them grow up and become the new foundation of teachers and leaders in Konoha. He didn't know how, but the brats had snuck in past his barriers and become a part of him. The three of them became the closest thing Kakashi would ever have to children of his own - something in the end Kakashi regretted not having. Briefly, Kakashi wondered if he should have taken Anko up on her offer. The Copy-nin coughed out a laugh, even on the verge of death, it was an offer he was glad he refused.
Inhale.
Gai would be angry with him. He would rave that no rival of his would die from such a simple mission, and that they still had a score to settle. There was no way Gai could leave the score 211 to 210 in Kakashi's favor. Kakashi smiled. He won; of course he won, he was a genius. Hell, Gai would probably wait at the gate with Naruto.
Exhale.
It was okay. He had served his purpose; he had completed his mission. He was a tool after all. Even if Leaf was the most civilized of the Hidden Villages, all shinobi were still just tools. They were a means of getting done what was needed done. It was not his life that truly mattered in the end but the success of the mission.
The moment Kakashi put on the forehead protector at the ginger age of 6, he lost any ownership over his path. Even then, his skills were wanted and put to good use. His life, his experiences, his purpose, was all given to him in a mission scroll daily. He lost his innocence through those scrolls. In many ways, it was what he was born for; he was machine, a tool, which excelled at what was most required of him: killing. How many had he killed in his lifetime? He couldn't even remember all of them. And just like them, he would just become a kill to someone else, or some obscure figure in a textbook that the children of Konoha would have to memorize.
Inhale.
Someone would take his place, he was sure of it; there was a whole academy built and run on that sole purpose. Another sad smile graced his lips. They always left that part out in the lessons. Almost from birth, children in the village were molded to be potential shinobi. It was the academy that sifted through them to see those who had the most potential, and then to gradually introduce their real purpose of being shinobi; to be tools of a greater purpose that they can't necessarily understand or ever know. It was the double edge of the sword that all shinobi held.
There would be many more like him that would share the same fate in the same excruciating way. And there would be more to replace them. It was a never-ending cycle.
Exhale.
And God, he was going to miss it.
AN: This is the final first chapter. Sorry that it took so long to update. A big thanks to leafygirl for being an awesome beta. Second chapter should be out in the next week or so.