A/N: Ok, so in watching the second-to-last episode in Kakashi's ANBU arc, I don't know wtf timeline it's going by. Isn't there only one graduating class a year? Or is it every 6 months? Either way, I thought Guy got his squad at the same time Kakashi got the second one he failed. But then how is Guy able to ask his team if they want to go for the Chunin exams? So they're talking about the Chunin exams, about Kakashi failing his 2nd team when that's not news by that point, and then…the Hokage comes in with the graduating pictures of Naruto, Sauske, and Sakura…ALL IN THE SAME 2 MINUTE CONVERSATION! I even watched the subbed version, and those contradictions are STILL THERE. I'm confused, and just…I guess I'll have change some things to make it work, because that makes no sense.

Chapter Fourteen: The Journal

Another year, another team. Once again, Anko stood in the shadows, unable to stave off her curiosity and keep her distance. The Hokage was not with her this time, and as she watched Kakashi's test unfold, it was evident that he'd modified the rules from the previous year. Other than that, it seemed that nothing had really changed.

"Big Brother," said the boy in blue. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah, maybe we shouldn't eat the bento lunches," said the one with the green beanie.

The one in black was tied to one of the posts, having attempted to take what was meant to be Kakashi's lunch. "Look you guys, give it a rest. Just trust me. Have I ever been wrong before?"

The other two hesitated, then shook their heads.

"Yeah, but…Kakashi-Sensei's gone," said the one in the beanie.

"Quit nit-picking, alright? Just listen to me. We're supposed to follow the rules."

Their stomachs growled. The boys looked at each other, and at their tied-up brother. He nodded at them, and they nodded in return before they began to wolf down their food.

It didn't take long for Kakashi to emerge from his hiding place, and the brother who had taken charge seemed eager to report his brothers' success.

"Kakashi-Sensei! I'm sorry, Sensei, I failed. By my kid brothers, they followed the rules!"

Kakashi hesitated a moment before he spoke. "The three of you… Each of you did obey my orders. You stuck to the rules, that's true; but you didn't follow the unwritten rule, the thing that's most important to a Shinobi."

They all frowned, clearly unhappy and feeling like they'd been fooled.

"And what's that?" asked the one in blue indignantly.

"Why you old—"

They all stopped talking when they were met with Kakashi's glare.

"You'll find out," he said icily. "When you all go back to the Academy."

Anko sighed, tuning out the protests from the kids. They'd done far better than last year's team since they had been focused on completing the task rather than jumping at each others' throats. Surely with a little guidance they'd have made a good group of Genin.

She turned away and walked back through the woods. It really was just like watching Ibiki all over again. Anko just hoped that this time, it wouldn't take a tragedy to turn Kakashi around.

X-X-X

Guy had been assigned a squad of Genin that he was excited to announce had passed his test criteria, which consisted mainly of a commitment to will-power and perseverance. The tears he shed were tears of joy, and they all forgave his obnoxiousness for the time being. Asuma had been assigned a team the previous year, and they had already advanced to Chunin. He had opted to sit this year out, but would take on new students next year.

"I'm so happy, I never knew having a group of youngins would fill my life with such joy!"

"Relax, Guy," said Anko. "You barely just met the little maggots."

"But they've already grown on me so fast! I love those guys!"

"Careful not to smother them," said Asuma.

"By the way," said Kurenai. "I've been meaning to ask you: what's it like being in charge of fresh Academy graduates anyway?"

"Probably a pain in the ass," said Anko with a chuckle.

"Come on, you really wouldn't like it?" Kurenai asked.

"Eh. I'm cool with being a proctor, but I don't think I'm cut out for teaching."

"Lord only knows what your squad would come out looking like when you were through with them," said Asuma in good humor.

She could have protested, but what for? He was right, of course. She enjoyed tormenting the young ones far too much. They all had a good laugh, however Kurenai was the first to sober up.

"I'm glad you got a good group, Guy. However, I'm still worried about Kakashi." They all grew silent as she continued. "He failed every one of them again, just like the last time."

"That's not what really concerns me, though," said Asuma.

"That's right," said Guy. "That's not such a big deal, but the darkness inside Kakashi's heart is a real problem."

"Yeah," Kurenai agreed. "He's still carrying it around. I mean, they were my classmates as well, and I grieved them. But still, at some point, you've got to move on."

"Yeah, I know."

So did Anko. She didn't tell the others that she'd witnessed the latest group flunk his test. She found it difficult to erase the image of his one-eyed glare. Anko didn't want to dwell on him anymore than she already had been, and so she opted to put the focus back on the positive.

"Come on. I know we're all concerned, but let's let Guy have his moment."

Asuma and Kurenai looked at Anko, and then at each other.

"You're right," said Kurenai. "This is cause for celebration."

"You're darn right it is!" agreed Guy. "Another round of dumplings, on me!"

"To Guy's new team!"

X-X-X

Kakashi sat on a bench at the playground, watching the children play. He felt conflicted regarding his failing of the second team in a row. On the one hand, he knew he couldn't pass Genin who couldn't work together as a team, and who didn't understand the value of choosing the lives of their comrades over abiding by the rules; but once again, the village was abuzz with whisperings and rumors. They said he was bitter and angry, and that he was taking his tragic past out on promising students. They said he was unfair. They said he was heartless.

If they only knew the pain that still ate at his heart each and every day…

Anko caught sight of Kakashi and stopped momentarily. She contemplated saying something to him, but thought better of it, knowing it would only end the same way it always seemed to anymore.

Where had he gone, the Kakashi she'd met back when she'd returned to the village? He'd been broken then, too, but now he seemed utterly shattered.

No, it wouldn't do any good to bother him. He was never interested in anything she had to say. Turning away, she moved along the path back into town.

He had noticed her presence. It was impossible not to. He'd stiffened when he'd realized that she wasn't too far behind him, trying decide whether he should fight or flee. When she left instead of approaching, he found he didn't feel any better. In fact, he felt worse. Had she given up? Didn't he want her to?

He'd known she'd been watching that training session. She'd seen it all. Had he been wrong to fail them? Was she disappointed in him?

He stood abruptly, glancing upward to scowl at the sky, which was too bright and too blue to suit his mood. He neither needed nor wanted her approval. At least she'd finally learned to leave him alone.

There was no use hiding from the world. Most people kept their distance now. Kurenai and Asuma usually still greeted him, but he simply didn't feel like talking to others. Guy didn't give up either, though he never pushed too far. The only one who ever did had clearly decided it was no longer worth her time.

They passed one another frequently. He typically met her gaze with apathy, but he couldn't read Anko's expression. He thought it was somewhere between sadness and disappointment. Probably mostly disappointment. She never hesitated anymore, simply continued on about her business.

He should have felt relieved, but he didn't. On one such day, he had been reading on that same bench she'd found him before. When she passed, she didn't stop. They shared that same look again, and when she was gone, he slowly closed his book and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Maybe she really had given up on him.

Yet the less contact he had with her, the more she invaded his mind. For so long, he'd believed he was only meant to serve as a tool to protect the Hidden Leaf. That was all he was good for, wasn't it? Then, Lord Third had pulled the rug out from under him and his beliefs, relieving him from his ANBU duties and assigning him to be a Jonin leader. So far, he hadn't proven himself useful in that capacity at all. The only consolation he had was that he'd prevented two squads who lacked teamwork from becoming Shinobi and getting themselves—or more accurately, each other—killed.

Ever since Kakashi had left the ANBU, he found he lacked a purpose. He still had missions, but he suspected that the Hokage was giving him lower-ranked ones on purpose so that he had no excuse to fall back into how he had operated for the last decade as an ANBU agent. He was not allowed to utilize his full potential, and therefore, he felt useless, especially since he hadn't actually succeeded in becoming a Jonin leader.

With his entire self-image ripped away from him, what was he supposed to do now?

'Who am I kidding?' he thought as he lay awake staring at his bedroom ceiling. 'I lost myself before that.'

But when?

That memory returned:

He was standing before the Memorial Stone at sunset while he silently begged for someone to help him understand himself. She stepped in front of him, drawing his full attention.

"I see a man who's kind and compassionate, but also strong and unyielding. I see someone who's both powerful and gentle. An unbreakable Shinobi with a fragile heart. You've had to endure immense loss, and you're still suffering, strangled by guilt and shame that can only exist because of an unshakable moral compass. Blinded so much by that shame and that guilt that your greatest desire is to be redeemed through giving your own life, a life you feel unworthy of because you've yet to reconcile with your past."

Several emotions flickered in his eyes: confusion; disbelief; denial; sadness; fear; that aforementioned shame. He looked away, caught between wanting to believe it and not being able to. How could she see anything good in him? And yet…how could she understand so much?

The weight of her hand on his chest startled him, and he snapped his attention back to her face. Was she holding back tears? They couldn't be for him. He tried to decipher what else lay in the depths of those eyes, but those emotions were unfathomable. He thought he saw…

No. That was impossible.

…Wasn't it?

Her lips pressed against his through the cloth of his mask, and he froze. For a brief moment, those emotions in her eyes made sense…and then they didn't, and he couldn't stand how bitter-sweet it felt, not when it felt more bitter than sweet…

He'd run. Like a coward, he'd run, and he'd been running ever since. Yet he couldn't outrun the memory. He wanted to toss it aside, but at the same time, he didn't want to let it go. He wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that all those years ago, it had been Anko who'd begun the process of uprooting his bleak self-image. At the time, he hadn't been ready to confront the possibility that she may have been right.

Now, that kiss continued to linger, always in the back of his mind to remind him that there may still be hope; that he might not just be a useful tool; or that he might not be a failure after all.

However…did it matter anymore if she'd quit? If she'd walked away from him for good?

Slowly, and with a sigh of self-loathing, Kakashi closed his eyes to the darkness. 'Great job, you fool…'

X-X-X

Guy had thrived in the position of Jonin leader. They all sat at the dango shop while Guy discussed his latest source of pride in his students.

"Taking a pass on the Chunin Exams?" asked Asuma. "Wow, really Guy? That's unusually cautious of you."

"Yeah, I would have thought you'd be the first to recommend your students," said Anko.

"I know," he replied thoughtfully. "But that group of kids…I asked them if they wanted to participate, and they all thought it was better to be patient and wait until they'd gotten even better. That way, they'd have a better chance at making Chunin." He took a large bite of his dumplings, joyful tears streaming down his face. "Those students I've got make me so happy! I never knew I could be this lucky!" He raised his arm to get the server's attention. "Dumplings! More dumplings, please!"

"Coming right up!"

"Ok, I really don't get it, but this is so like you," said Asuma.

Kakashi strolled on by the shop just then, and of course it didn't escape Guy's notice. It didn't escape Anko's either.

"Hey Kakashi!" shouted Guy while Anko smartly said nothing. "Why don't you come on over here and join us? We've got some delicious dumplings!"

The silver-haired Jonin stopped briefly, the look he gave them an irritated, contemptuous one before he moved on. Just like that, the mood at their table had dampened.

"What's with him anyway?" asked Guy. "His eyes are as cold as ever, like he never left the ANBU."

"I don't understand why," said Kurenai.

"I always knew that the bleak atmosphere of the ANBU would make him become more sullen and withdrawn." Guy paused. "I don't know," he said, twirling his dango stick. "Maybe we four never should have interfered in the first place. We all thought that if he were away from the ANBU and instead were in charge of young, would-be Shinobi, things would hold more promise for him, but uh…"

"Lord Third," said Kurenai, Asuma and Anko following her gaze to the man behind Guy.

"What? Lord Third—? Ah! Lord Third!" Guy exclaimed, jumping up in surprise.

"Hm. Please, sit down, all of you," said Hiruzen calmly. "Relax and finish your tea. In fact, I'll have a cup as well." He took a seat beside Guy, nodding to the server, who knew the exact tea that the Hokage would request. She went to fetch it without an exchange of words. "So, what seems to be the problem? Still worried about Kakashi, I assume?"

"Can you blame us?" asked Anko. "We thought he'd get better, but he's not. He's worse…"

"He seems so lost that I'm starting to wonder if he'll ever find his way back," said Guy.

"I think we all are," said Asuma. "So far, it's not looking too promising. He's already failed two teams."

The server brought the Hokage his tea, and Hiruzen took a slow sip as he contemplated their concerns. "Ah, I think I see," he said at last before he gave a chuckle.

"And just what's so funny?" said Asuma, getting to his feet. "You know, I've noticed that you always treat us like we're little kids!"

"Asuma!"

"Oh, forgive me for laughing. And I must admit you're right: I do treat you like children."

"Well quit it! We're not worried for nothing you know! Can't you see there's something seriously wrong here?"

"I'm sure he's well aware," said Anko flatly. "Now would you sit down and let him speak?" This wasn't about Asuma's issues with his father: this was about Kakashi.

Kurenai looked up at Asuma with a pleading expression, her fingers tentatively touching his arm. It took several seconds of awkward silence before Asuma reclaimed his seat.

"I know that Kakashi has faced a rough transition from the ANBU. Yet, can we all not agree that changes of this nature take time? It seems to me that Kakashi is still healing in more ways than one. I share your frustration and concern, truly. However, I don't look at his handling of his previously assigned teams as failures."

"What do you mean, Lord Third?" asked Guy.

Hiruzen took another slow sip before continuing. "A teacher trains his students of course. But at the same time, learns from them. It is only through mutual respect and growth that you can foster a true teacher-pupil relationship. It's my sincere hope that each of you will nurture such relationships with your pupils. And of course, I wish that for Kakashi as well."

He pulled something from an inner pocket of his robes, spreading the pages out on the table.

"Wait, Lord Third, is that what I think it is?" said Guy.

"Oh my, this was supposed to remain secret for now!" he replied with a conspiratorial smile. "But this is the list of Academy graduates that will soon be under Kakashi's tutelage. Seems like a group of highly individual kids."

The four Jonin stared down at the images with disbelief and skepticism.

"Hold on, isn't that the Uchiha kid?" asked Anko. "And Lord Fourth's—"

"Indeed it is."

"And one of the top Kunoichis in that class," said Asuma thoughtfully. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I assure you, I've thought carefully about the next squad assignments, particularly this one. I only ask that you have faith in my judgement, as well as faith in Kakashi and these kids."

As the four Jonin walked through the streets after leaving the dango shop, they continued to discuss the Kakashi dilemma. They hadn't lost faith in their friend, but they had run out of ideas for aiding him.

"Perhaps we should all try talking to him," said Kurenai.

"I doubt he'd let us," said Asuma. "He'd just disappear before we got a word in."

"You're right about that," conceded Guy. "He's pretty elusive these days."

"Hey."

They turned and looked at Anko, who had stopped as a thought occurred to her.

"Huh?"

She looked at each of them and grinned. "I think I have an idea."

X-X-X

With one hand behind his back, Kakashi climbed straight up toward the top of the cliff that stood majestically behind the village. It was a training exercise he'd started when he'd first entered the Academy, and he'd retained it to keep his physical condition at peak performance. Not that it mattered too much lately because he hadn't been sent on any really physically demanding missions in far too long. Though that made it more important for him to make the one-handed journey up the mountain since he wasn't getting much of a workout in the field these days.

Climbing was also a way to take his mind off of his continuously racing thoughts since his focus had to be perfect to avoid falling. It was a distraction, one that he welcomed without complaint.

At last, his hand found the flat earth at the top, and he focused all his energy into pulling himself up. As his elbows cleared the ledge, a shadow fell over him, and he looked up, his heart jumping into his throat and his thoughts returning to things he felt too unworthy to revisit.

"Doing the same ridiculous training exercises as Guy I see. Though I've got to admit, climbing all the way up here with only one arm is pretty damn impressive," Anko commended with a grin.

Kakashi finished pulling himself up and got to his feet. "And you're here because…?"

"Because I'm a nibshit, why else?"

Though he was still trying to catch his breath, he managed another glare. "You know what I mean."

"Oh spare me," she said, waving away his attitude. "We need to talk."

"There's nothing I want to talk to you about," he said, moving past her with the full intention of finding a way to subvert all thoughts of her.

She turned and grabbed his arm, spinning him around abruptly and taking him by surprise.

"What the—?"

"Listen here, Hatake! I've got something to say, and you're damn well going to stand there and take it like a man, you got it?!"

"I—"

"Shut up!"

He blinked back at her, speechless. Then he turned his head slightly, looking at her with a squinted, sideways glance.

"You're not giving me a choice, are you?"

"What gave it away, genius?"

He sighed. It didn't look like she was going to let him get away this time. Odd. Why was that somewhat of a relief?

"Alright, spit it out then."

Taking a moment to gather her courage, Anko looked him straight in the eye.

"Kakashi, for years I've watched you, and I've tried to understand the battle you've been going through. At first, I didn't know the source of your inner turmoil, but once I figured it out, I tried to show you that you're more than the culmination of your past mistakes. Clearly, it didn't work…and it seemed that all I ever managed to accomplish was to push you further and further away. Further into isolation and darkness. So then I thought, maybe it would be best if I left you alone; if I didn't interfere.

"But whether I do nothing or something, I'm always asking myself if there was anything I could have done differently to help you. And then I realized…you and I…we're damned if we do, and damned if we don't."

Kakashi looked at her, studying her expression and wondering where she would take this discussion.

"We all have a choice to do something or nothing. Lately, I've tried doing nothing, and that hasn't helped either. So I've come to the conclusion that anything is better than taking no action at all. I know you have to fight your own battles, but that doesn't mean you have to face them alone. You pretend not to care because it's easier that way, but I…your friends…we haven't given up on you, and we never will."

A strange wave of relief washed over him, and he could no longer muster up the guise of agitated apathy that he'd worn for what felt like ages. She hadn't given up on him after all. He questioned his reaction to that revelation.

"So you're…not going to leave me alone anymore," he said flatly.

She set her jaw and her eyes grew hard with resolve. "I'm not going to let you bully me into enabling your self-imposed isolation anymore. It's obviously not working very well, and dammit, your friends are all growing increasingly worried about you! And don't tell me you don't care about them, because if you didn't, you wouldn't still be calculating your usefulness to the village, and ultimately to protect your friends and comrades!"

"I would have thought you'd quit by now. Seems I'm a pretty hopeless cause, even to myself."

She gave a genuine smile. "That's the funny thing about faith: if you believe in it enough, nothing's hopeless."

He had nothing to say to that, so he didn't even try. As much as he'd attempted to deny it, he'd known for a while now that Anko had had him pegged almost from the get-go. It was strange and disconcerting that while Kakashi kept himself covered both physically and mentally, somehow this woman could see the man behind the mask. Like a snail being poked, he cringed and ducked inside his shell each time Anko managed to unveil a piece of him that he fought so valiantly to hide. Yet, he always kept one eye open to see what she would do next. She always seemed to surprise him, and what she did next was no exception.

Anko stepped toward him, reaching into her coat pocket and removing book. She held it out to Kakashi, and he glanced down at it, confused.

"We thought you could use some new reading material."

Tentatively, he reached out to take what appeared to be a journal as he read the hand-written title: How a Shinobi Should Live.

He blinked, looking back to Anko to find that she was already turning away from him with a smug grin on her face.

"I've taken up enough of your time, and your patience I imagine. I guess I'll see you around, huh Kakashi?" she said with a casual, lazy wave.

He watched her go, frozen in place for several long minutes while he processed that (mostly one-sided) conversation. When he got a hold of himself at last, he glanced back down at the journal in his hand. He was curious to know what was inside it, and yet he was afraid to open its binding.

X-X-X

The life of a Shinobi is a tough one, full of expectations that we continually strive to meet. Some of those expectations are placed upon us by those we look up to, but others are formed within our own heads. We want to be like our role models, like the great Shinobi who played a part in shaping the image we have of the warriors we want to be.

Through childlike eyes, we emulate our heroes, and we try with all our might to be as noble, as honorable, as selfless, as wise, or as strong as we perceive them to be. Yet, too many times, we forget that our beloved heroes are only human, and that they only reached the pinnacle of greatness by making their own mistakes rather than following safely in the footsteps of their mentors. In the latter cases, those Shinobi will never be great because they will forever be relegated to stand in the shadow of those who came before them.

For some Shinobi, standing within those shadows appears safer. There is comfort in clinging to the ways of their mentor since it gives the illusion that one cannot possibly make a misstep. However, the identity of the student is not the mirrored identity of the teacher. They are themselves their own entities, destined to choose their own unique paths.

It is fear that keeps a Shinobi from reaching his true potential. A Shinobi can be fierce in battle; but in his heart, if he is afraid, then he will never recognize his greater purpose. That, it can be argued, is the greatest waste of a Shinobi, for he is not simply a tool, but a human being who desires self-actualization and a place among his peers.

—Asuma Sarutobi

X-X-X

We as Shinobi are often revered for our strength and our position as protectors. We are masters of Ninjutsu, Genjutsu, and Taijutsu. Our training is often specific to honing these skills so that we may become more effective in battle and in protecting the safety and security of our home, our comrades, and our way of life. Those who take up the mantle of a Shinobi are aware that they may be asked to put their life on the line, and they are more than willing to make the ultimate sacrifice should that course of action become necessary.

Sometimes we forget, though, that a Shinobi's honor is not determined simply by their willingness to throw themselves before the sword of an enemy. So eager are we to prove ourselves that we may become reckless with our own lives, forgetting entirely that there is more to us than the name 'Shinobi.'

A Shinobi is not only a warrior: they may also be a mother or father; a daughter or son; a grandparent or grandchild; a student or a teacher; a comrade or a friend. We play many roles in our lives, and we must remember that we are needed in ways that can't always be met on the battlefield. To die for the greater wellbeing of our village is a noble sacrifice, this is true; but those who love and care for us cannot raise us from the grave once the last breath leaves our bodies. In death, we can no longer fulfill the roles we possessed in life.

Thus, a Shinobi should not live to die, for their value cannot possibly be measured by a willingness to self-sacrifice alone. Instead, they should live every day as though it may be their last, taking advantage of the wonders that this life has to offer. A Shinobi should hold close those they care for, and remember the value of the relationships that they will forever be a part of. They would also do well to recall with frequency how much they are loved and needed in the most human of ways. If a Shinobi takes nothing for granted, his eventual death will be both mourned and celebrated, and he will leave behind a legacy that will be remembered for generations. He will be remembered, not just a ninja, but as a person well-loved and greatly respected.

—Kurenai Yuhi

X-X-X

A Shinobi cannot ever be conceived in the singular. It is an undeniable truth that any single Shinobi is the result of a collective. From fathers and teachers to teammates and rivals, a Shinobi is formed by the energy of those who surround him. He doesn't want to disappoint his father, nor fail before his teacher. He does not want to become a burden to his teammates, nor does he want to stand forever in the shadow of his rivals. A Shinobi strives always to be the best he can be, and this is a goal he cannot reach alone or without adversity.

He will be tested over and over again, but it's his drive to be somebody in the eyes of those around him that gives him the strength and the sheer willpower to keep going even when the going gets rough. For the true Shinobi, this drive is not selfish. Instead it serves to reward others for their faith in him by producing an outstanding individual who isn't measured by his skill, but by his heart and determination.

No single Shinobi can stand alone. He can neither live nor die in isolation, the lone, untouchable hero of his own story in which he reached greatness by himself only to sacrifice that greatness without a cause. While a Shinobi's purpose is to serve and protect their comrades, they must never forget that without their comrades, he would be nothing. It was they who marveled at his successes and supported him even when he failed. It was they who served as the motivating factor, allowing him to reach his highest potential. Through his shining moments and his darkest days, they molded him.

It is this truth that each Shinobi eventually comes to recognize. When he does, he gains a greater appreciation for those around him, as well as all the events that have and will continue to transform him.

—Might Guy

X-X-X

"…The actions of a Shinobi have no merit—no worth—if he doesn't know for what or whom he's fighting. Further, his life is meaningless without a sense of belonging and purpose, as is his death. Better to live and die as part of something greater than to give one's life without appreciating the value of that sacrifice…"

—Tenzo

"…The greatest Shinobi inspire others without effort. They are humble even while they understand the importance of the role they play…"

—Yugao Uzuki

"…A Shinobi knows his worth, and he sets his mind to disproving the nay-sayers through his actions…"

—Choza Akimichi

"…In battle, a Shinobi is fierce for the good of his comrades and for his own survival. On the home front, however, he knows how to respect his kin and comrades by approaching them with an effort to understand…"

—Shikaku Nara

"…Shinobi appreciate and support one another, looking to the future rather than the past or present to guide their actions. It is the job of each Shinobi to secure a brighter future for the younger generations…"

—Inoichi Yamanaka

"…Never underestimate the value of quiet confidence…"

—Genma Shiranui

"…Though the job of a Shinobi may appear as though it goes without saying, there is still a niche—a calling—for each individual. For some, it comes naturally. Others may search their entire careers trying to find it…"

—Raido Namiashi

"…A Shinobi must learn how and when to be unmovable; but he must also learn when to allow himself to be moved by compassion and a desire to positively impact the lives of others…"

—Ibiki Morino

"…The greatest gift a Shinobi can give is to pass on the lessons he's learned to budding young minds, and to bolster them with hopes and dreams for a better future…"

—Master Jiraiya

"…The life of a Shinobi can be grueling, no doubt. It comes with the stipulation that one must be willing to give everything he has for the greater good of all who depend on him. The tricky part is knowing what to give and when, for sacrifice can come in many forms. It might require one to relinquish his pride, cast aside previous misconceptions, impart wisdom, or acquiesce to giving others another chance…"

—Hiruzen Sarutobi, Third Hokage

X-X-X

What defines a Shinobi? It all depends on who you ask, but most would agree that a Shinobi is more than just a tool; of use until he becomes obsolete. We all have our own reasons for choosing this path, but typically our preconceptions change with time and experience. We learn from our peers and mentors, as well as from our own mistakes, and we are always reformulating our definition of what it means to be a Shinobi.

We are neither Gods nor servants. We are not relegated to reign over others, or to be subservient to them. Shinobi do not exist in a bubble. Rather, they are part of a larger community that both supports and relies on them. That larger community can be thought of as an intricate team, and in order for that team to be successful, each member must give a piece of themselves.

For teamwork isn't just a concept that applies to squads or even armies. It is one that extends to every facet of our lives. Teamwork involves cooperation, communication, and reciprocity. It can come from or create group cohesion and solidify the bonds between individuals.

In our personal lives, lives lived off the battlefield, we don't call this teamwork: we call it love; friendship; compassion; respect; support. On a mission, if a Shinobi is wounded, his teammates tend to his wounds and bring him back home safely. At home, if that same Shinobi finds himself suffering, his family, friends, and comrades will all be there to hold him up until he's able to see better days again. They don't leave him to drown in his agony any more than his teammates would willingly leave him to become a POW at the merciless hands of the enemy.

In short, a Shinobi cares for his comrades both on and off the battlefield—not because he has to, but because he shares a connection with each and every one of them. His life is guided by the passion he carries for his fellow man, and he recognizes his worth in their eyes. He may doubt, he may stumble, and he may fall; but he with the help of those who care for him, he will have the courage to get up again and move on."

—Anko Mitarashi

X-X-X

Anko, Kurenai, Guy, and Asuma all sat at the dango shop, sharing their usual snack time together. Their collective mood was jovial and upbeat while they shared amusing stories from their week. Guy, of course, had multiple tales to tell about the goings-on of his students, who were apparently one of his greatest sources of pride. The four companions joked and laughed, enjoying the bright, beautiful day.

It was Asuma who caught sight of Kakashi first. The others, noticing that something had caught his attention, followed his gaze to find the Copy Ninja standing in front of the shop, looking at them as though he weren't sure whether he should—or could—approach them. Instead of an icy glare or cold indifference, Kakashi looked wary and uncertain.

Guy gave a wide grin, never one to be deterred. "Hey Kakashi! Come sit down, we've got plenty of dumplings!"

His shoulders were slumped, and there was something about what little they could see of his expression that made him seem vulnerable. He hesitated, but finally approached, pushing the banners out of the way and sitting down next to Guy.

Asuma and Kurenai shared a look of disbelief while Guy's grin only grew. Anko studied Kakashi, keeping her expression impassive for fear of scaring him away.

Guy slapped Kakashi on the back. "What do you know? After all this time, you finally decided to join us!"

"Yeah, I…guess so."

Kurenai gave a kind, welcoming smile. "It's good to see you."

"So, what brings you here?" asked Asuma curiously.

Kakashi's grey eye dropped to the wooden surface of the table while he collected his thoughts. He swallowed nervously. He wasn't that great with words, but he knew he had try.

"I owe you all an apology," he finally said. "I haven't been fair to you in so long, it's really inexcusable. I suppose I've always thought I had to do things on my own, and even after Obito's death, I never allowed anyone to help me. I used to think I didn't need it, but eventually I got to the point where I believed I…didn't deserve it. Even now, realizing how poorly I've treated those who call themselves my friends, I still don't feel like I deserve much of anything…"

"That's crazy talk," said Guy.

"No," he countered. "I've been a terrible friend, which makes me realize that I didn't actually learn anything from Obito. He'd be disappointed in me all over again if he could see me now…"

"On the contrary, I think he'd be quite proud," said Kurenai. "You've come a long way since then, Kakashi."

"She's right," agreed Asuma. "You've learned quite a bit from him, and you're still learning. Hell, we all are."

"Speaking of…" Kakashi pulled the journal from his hip pouch and laid it down gently on the table. "I read every word of it…and I wanted to thank you. All of you. I can't express my gratitude. You must've gone through a lot of trouble to complete it…for me."

"Don't look at us," said Kurenai. "It was all Anko's doing."

Anko's face flushed as his grey eye settled on her. "D-don't be dumb," she protested, suddenly uncomfortable with being put on the spot. "We all pitched in!"

"But it was your brilliant idea, and it worked!" exclaimed Guy, tearing up. "I…I'm so happy to have my friend and rival back again!"

That tender emotion returned to flutter in Kakashi's chest. Once again, it frightened him, but less so this time around. He nodded to Anko.

"Thank you," he said.

She shrugged, secretly overjoyed at his acknowledgement. "It's no problem, really."

"The truth is," Kakashi continued. "I know I'm still not where I need to be mentally."

"Maybe not, but we're your friends, Kakashi," said Kurenai. "And no matter how long it takes, we'll be here for you."

"That's right," said Asuma. "We've got all the time in the world."

For the first time since his father's suicide, Kakashi was beginning to feel like everything would be ok. Maybe not now; maybe not soon; but eventually. The four Jonin surrounding him were people he knew he could count on. He just had to be willing to allow himself to lean on them.

Unable to contain himself, Guy shouted "More dumplings!" through his joyful tears before he threw his arms around his friend and made a scene that drove them all to embarrassment.

Anko saw Kurenai shed a few tears, and noted that Asuma appeared relieved. A weight had been lifted, it seemed. Anko recalled the few times before that she'd caught a glimpse of Kakashi's more vulnerable side. In many ways, he was still like a frightened child, but now he was finally learning to trust.

A/N: I was dreading doing this, and I thought I wasn't going to. Actually, my original idea was to have only Anko fill the journal with her thoughts on how a Shinobi should live, but then I thought it would be more powerful and have a much greater impact on Kakashi if it contained several different perspectives. I tried to make each quote or entry be true to the characters, not just within the context of this story, but outside of it as well. For instance, Asuma is the son of the Third Hokage, so obviously he'd have a lot to live up to, which would generate a certain pattern of growth and a particular perspective. I think I recall that during the Ninetails attack, Kurenai's father reminded her that she was a woman, not just a Shinobi, and she had other roles she needed to remember. Thus, she may have struggled with figuring out how to fulfill each of the roles she played in her life instead of just her role as a Shinobi. And Guy, well his perspective goes without saying. I watched his backstory over the weekend, and it made me cry. But anyway, things like that were neat to explore.