A/N: Well, I just realized that I proofread the wrong chapter last week. I actually proofread this one, instead of the one I had uploaded. I panicked when I saw, and have since updated the proper Chapter 65, post proof-reading. Sorry about that! For those who didn't know, I wanted to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the glowing reviews for chapter 64. Really put a smile on my face, and I hope you all continue to enjoy the story! This chapter isn't as hard-hitting, but I hope you all enjoy! :)

Sleep was starting to become a resource that wasn't very abundant, especially if one was a village leader. Thinking only of his bed, Chojuro sat in his office before a glowing laptop screen with his cheek resting in a palm. There was recently a private discussion between him and three of the four other Kage in regards to the Hidden Leaf not being stricken with an assault on the same level as everyone else...in fact, the Hidden Leaf had not been attacked at all. Though every single Kage doubted an individual like Naruto to be plotting something against his peers, they did all agree that this was highly suspect. They concluded the private discussion by agreeing to keep an eye on the Hidden Leaf, though there was no real reason to suspect them of some sort of hidden agenda. Now, he was just mindlessly looking through emails, wondering what the hell he was going to do about many, many things in regards to his village, the Hidden Abyss, and his own shinobi. The last week was unfathomable, and to think it would happen after a time when Obito Uchiha, and Madara Uchiha, were dead.

"Lord Mizukage."

The swordsman stiffened up and spun in his chair, turning to one of the office windows. The glass barrier was ajar, and Jiyuu was perched on the windowsill as if he were a bird. His gaze was empty, and looked like he was trying to not interrupt anything important. And yet...

"Could you PLEASE use the door like a normal person? I have the door there for a reason."

Of course, the Hyuuga's Black Eye didn't respond to the comment, instead stepping inside through the window as if it were as good as any other entrance. The action got the Mizukage a little upset, but as he watched Jiyuu slump around the desk and stand before him, Chojuro could tell that something was stirring the young man's mind, something that had been bothering him for some time. He knew that look of uncertainty on Jiyuu's face, the same look that anybody would have when they were trying to ignore a large, unyielding burden on their mind.

"I would like a mission," Jiyuu finally spoke after a moment of silence. "A solo one."

The click that came from Chojuro's tongue should have been enough of an answer for Jiyuu, but the Hyuuga's Black Eye chose to act like he didn't hear it. He waited silently, maintaining eye contact with the village leader to show he was serious, and expecting a good answer.

"No."

"What?! Why not?!"

"Because I know you're trying to get away from something that's bothering you. If that's the case, I refuse to send you out on a mission."

"That's a judgement call made from an assumption! You can't-"

"I can, and I will enforce my power in that very way." Chojuro shut his laptop closed, frown deepening. "Come on, Jiyuu. You think I don't know how you feel?"

"Frankly, no."

"Now who's making assumptions..."

"..."

"I lost my student to Yaju, a student I held in very high regard and considered a son. I did mourn, and not a minute passes where I question why his life had to be among the ones lost. But I know that I have a responsibility to this village, regardless of whether or not I'm a Kage. I owe it to my village as a shinobi to not let personal grievances get in the way of work. You...you've been in your current mental state for the past week, haven't you?"

"..."

"I had figured as much. Your father came in asking if I had seen you, and that was three days ago. He mentioned that you and him had a bit of an argument and he hadn't seen you since. Only through deploying ANBU was I able to confirm you didn't leave the village again. The news made Ketsui feel better, but the man still seemed upset. I-"

"Wait, you sent ANBU after me?"

Now the Mizukage's jaw was clenched, and Jiyuu could see his eyelid twitching. "What would you have me do, Jiyuu? I wasn't going to risk having someone like you run away again, not with all the craziness happening out there." A finger was pointed at the young man. "I may be trying my best to maintain stability in this broken village, but I need all the shinobi under my command to assist me. You, as one of them, need to pull yourself together and find balance in your personal life. You're a jounin now, a member of Team One from the previous generation of shinobi, and one of my most capable shinobi. I can't operate with you constantly putting your own allies on edge, or avoiding your personal demons."

"..."

"Many people from your generation didn't have the luxury of growing up with parents. The war took many people, and left many more orphaned, no mother or father. You have both, and regardless of what you might think, the fact that neither have abandoned you throughout the years, even as a missing-nin, is a testament for their love of you. Go see your mother while she still breathes, that's an order."

At the command, Jiyuu seemed a bit hurt. It made him out to be cold and indifferent towards his dying mother, at least that's how he felt. In truth, Chojuro had been more accurate than the Hyuuga's Black Eye would care to admit. More than anything, Jiyuu hated dealing with his personal demons. He did not enjoy fighting against things that he couldn't defeat in a physical battle, nor did he enjoy getting emotional, opening up. The last few years have hardened him, taught him that opening one's heart to others would be cause for betrayal on a scale that was unheard of. The heart was a gateway to pain, sorrow, misery, and closing it off when things got tough was what had kept him alive. He was no machine, he could understand and interact with people while understanding how they felt...but he refused to feel, he couldn't afford to. But now? When it was only his emotions being challenged?

He had no idea what to do.

A circus of different feelings danced around in his eyes, each one passing with a fleeting moment, yet the observant eye was capable of catching them all. Anger, worry, regret, sadness, anxiety. Everything he could, and would, feel on his way to his new destination, he tried his best to suppress. Though most would not notice the internal struggle that Jiyuu was battling against, Chojuro did. It was clear as day to him, but this type of pain was something everyone had to go through; running from death did not make it go away. With a slow blink and small scratch of his cheek, Jiyuu turned around and looked at the doorway that Chojuro had demanded he use before their conversation. His steps, slow and depressed, thumped against the office floor, his dreary body dragging itself along until he was close enough to grasp the doorknob and open the exit. He hesitated in the doorway, looking up at the ceiling as if he were praying for a higher power to give him strength, and just like that, he walked out.

The door closed quietly with a light click, and the Mizukage opened his laptop once more. The break had been nice, but it was time for him to continue working. He could only hope that Jiyuu would obey his orders this time around, and put his grief behind himself.

As the Hyuuga's Black Eye walked to the hospital, his mind became foggy. He walked like he was in a daze, as if there was a great cloud in front of him and he had to blindly trudge through it. Of course, there was no cloud, only mist that was hardly thick enough to cause even civilians trouble. It was just the anticipation, really. What was he to do? What was he to say? 'I'm sorry that I didn't want to see you before you died, but the boss is making me come here?' In the mind of this particular shinobi, two schools of thought were constantly at battle, and neither one was gaining any footing. First, Warai was alive, and the longer Jiyuu waited, the more bitter he would make her. Conversely, she was already dead but her corpse continued to demand his attention while it still had breath in it's lungs, meaning he would never be granted solace. No matter how he sliced it, this whole situation was unlike anything he had experienced before. He could train thousands of times throughout the year when it came to perfecting a single punch, mastering a jutsu, learning to speak properly with diplomatic figures. All of that was something he could do if given time. The problem was, he had never trained for this, and Jiyuu felt so naked, so unprotected and worried about what would happen that...well...quite frankly, he felt like a genin all over again. His mind had taken him hostage, and this time, nobody could save him.

Perhaps his mother would have the answers he sought, though he doubted she would be in a state beyond vegetation at this point. As he walked, he bit down on his lip, hard. A tear was forming in his eye, and he swatted at it as if a fly landed on his face. He hated himself, he really did. What kind of son would let his mother rot on her deathbed like this? What was wrong with him?! In his heart, he knew he was at fault, he knew that he was being the very thing that he knew his parents didn't want. The very embodiment of what Ketsui hated...the thing that made Warai sign her death warrant. The world was greying up to Jiyuu, though perhaps the mist was just playing tricks with his head. Everything, from the grass to the towns, were depressing, dilapidated, and cried out for someone to pull out the wires and drip-feeds keeping this Kami-forsaken village alive. What the hell was even the point?!

Another damn tear, and Jiyuu swatted this one away, too. The faint sounds of people he was passing calling for him fluttered by, and he ignored them without a second thought. He picked up his pace, and could see the hospital's colossal facade looming in the distance, like a beacon of foreboding news and anguished attempts to draw out life in it's most fleeting of times. He swatted away one final tear, and entered with his head lowered, eyes fixated on only what was ahead of him. The nurse at the front desk had gotten up from her chair, clutching a clipboard in her hands and staring at Jiyuu like he were an enraged bull charging her. He didn't get it, he didn't want to get it. He came here for a purpose, and damn it, he was going to see his purpose through to the end! He slammed his hand on the desk, and unbeknownst to him, the entire front area of the hospital entryway fell silent from the violent sound.

To say he looked deranged was putting it lightly. Jiyuu was breathing so hard that his whole body was heaving, sweat dotted his forehead and his eyes were puffy with resisting tears. The jaw on this man was clenched, firm, his teeth grit together so hard that one may hear them straining against each other if they focused. His real hand was on the table, palm flat to keep his fingers from twitching, yet it did naught to keep the rest of his arm at bay. The fake arm he brought from the Hidden Sand, wrapped up in dirty bandages along with his nub arm, was creaking with each small movement as if it were an old door. To top everything off, his whole body was trembling, not so much that anybody could tell, but the single nurse he was glaring at could tell that he was on the brink of losing his mind.

"...Warai...Tamashi...what room..."

"Ah, she's...uh..." The nurse, trying to hide behind her clip board like it were going to save her from this beast, frantically glanced down at it and back up to Jiyuu, like he were going to lunge for her throat if she didn't watch him. "...uh..ah...em...431, s-sir..."

The answer was satisfactory, because the Hyuuga's Black Eye slid his hand off the counter and marched down one of the halls. Again, his mind was in a daze, yet the only thing from the outside world that was allowed to enter and be recognized was the hospital room numbers that passed through his vision. He kept going, counting down each one as he got further and further into this maze that was the hospital. His heartbeat sped up, he began to sweat a little more, he didn't want to be here, he felt horribly uncomfortable knowing what he was about to do. He was angry that he was being forced to do this, upset that he must have come off as an asshole when, in all honesty...

...he was only scared of what he would find.

And what he found was the door. The sign with the room number of '431' was stuck on it's front, and everything froze in Jiyuu's world. He felt himself stop breathing, and he looked the door up and down, wondering if this frail thing was all that was needed to contain the immense amount of despair awaiting him beyond.

Through some divine magic, he found the strength to twist the doorknob and gently push the door open. It creaked as it opened slow, the only light in the room coming from the hall of the hospital that Jiyuu was still stood in. He could see his own shadow stretch out from the doorway and onto the only patient in the room, someone who's eyes were closed and was tucked into a bed. All that remained hooked up to her was a heart rate monitor...a telltale sign that she had given up on trying to postpone the inevitable.

His heart began to hurt as it beat, not with physical pain, but an emotional strain that must have been clear as day on his face. He could see Warai's head slowly turn to look at him; she looked sickly, skin pale with a sheen of sweat coating her forehead. And yet, she still managed to find it in herself to smile at him...at the boy Jiyuu believed to be the root of all her troubles.

"...sweetie...come here..."

The heart-wrenching realization that all she could do was whisper crushed Jiyuu's spirit, but he bit down on his lip once more and walked in, gently closing the door behind him. His steps were quiet, the man's legs carrying him without command to Warai's bedside. Something wet ran down his cheek, but this time he didn't bother smacking it away.

"...don't cry...sweetie...it's okay..."

The focus in her gaze was unstable, he could tell that she was having trouble keeping her focus on him. The kunoichi was hanging by a thread to her life. More wetness rolled down Jiyuu's cheeks, and he had given up on caring about it. He let the tears fall, not caring if anybody walked in on him.

"...but it's not okay, Ma," he whispered back, sniffling a little. "I...I should've come here sooner, but I kept running away from this like a coward."

"...I know, sweetie...it's scary..."

"I don't want you to die. I know it's selfish of me, but I'm just...I'm just not ready to see you go."

"...I know..."

"..."

With a little sigh, Warai's smile began to fade, and she brought her attention to the ceiling. "...when I was...little...my parents died..."

"..."

"...it was...very hard for me...but I did...get over it...in time...and I know...you will too..."

"But this all could've been prevented," he said, shaking his head. His fake hand grabbed at the bed railing, and squeezed it; both of them could hear the cords and wooden pieces straining as he did so, and it made his tears start to fall faster. There was just so much in his head, so many emotions that were weighing down on his mind and his heart, it made it hard for him to breathe. He started to sob a little, choking on his own breath while his shoulders trembled violently. The gentle eyes of his mother met his tear-coated own, and the slight amount of light coming from the cloudy sky from the window of her hospital room made her look almost ghostly. "I'm sorry, Ma," he continued. "I'm so...so sorry...I take full responsibility for everything that happened to you, everything I did that made you and Pa go crazy looking for me."

"..."

"I know it's not enough, nothing will be enough to make up for the crap I pulled or how worried I made both of you. I ran because I was...I didn't want my life to be controlled by so many things that were out of my hands. I didn't want my life to be dictated by my eyes, I wanted to keep my friends and family happy, but everywhere I looked, I was causing nothing but distress. Sometimes I feel like there's no point to any of it, like I was born only to be a vessel for these damn eyes and nothing else. And I...and I..."

He was gritting his teeth, and his second hand gripped the railing of the bed. His tears fell down onto the edge of Warai's hospital bed, and he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. His eyelids glued themselves together, and he choked harder on his own sobbing.

"...and I disappointed you both. I disappointed you both and there was nothing I could've done worse than that. I should've been the one in this bed, not you...I should've been poisoned, I should've been the one suffering, but it's never me. There's always someone I know who doesn't deserve to feel pain or loss, and they always end up taking it instead of me."

"...stop it, sweetie...please..."

His eyes snapped open, and he felt his next words, whatever they were going to be, get stuck in his throat. He didn't know why he was speaking like this, it had always been so hard for him to express just how he felt. He had trained himself not to feel, not to open up. Yet here he was, pouring his heart out like a bucket of water onto his sickly mother, unable to stop the flow of sappy gibberish that he wouldn't dare tell anyone else. The request from his mother, he followed without delay.

"...you...did nothing...wrong...you are a...good boy...and...my baby." She smiled once more, but this time it was notably weaker. "...please, sweetie...take...my necklace off..."

A very odd request, but Jiyuu looked to see what she was speaking of. Yes, behind her neck and running beneath the blanket was something that appeared to be the loop of a necklace. With hands as careful as a surgeon's, he reached around her neck and undid the link, carefully pulling away the necklace she had spoken of. He held the object up in front of his face, wet onyx eyes scanning over every detail. It was her necklace that Ketsui had given her, the Yin half to match Ketsui's Yang half. It meant the world to her, just as much as her own wedding band did.

"...put it on..."

The hand that clutched the necklace shook violently at the request, and the sweat on Jiyuu's forehead felt cold when Warai had told him to wear the object. With a shaky breath, he brought his other hand up and grabbed the loop of the necklace, holding the string out as he looked at the Yin symbol one more time. The chrome edges of the piece shimmered, like a silver lining that Jiyuu felt he would never find in a situation such as this. The kunoichi in the bed could hear her son gulp, and watched as he warily put the string around his neck, and clicked the loop together. His hands fell to his sides, and the necklace dangled from his neck, the black blending well with his jacket as it rested on the fishnet shirt he wore beneath it. The only person in the room who seemed pleased with the result was Warai, but Jiyuu could feel that death itself was in the room beside him, and he felt that him bearing the necklace was bringing it closer to his mother.

"Looks...good on you..."

"..."

"Don't look...so...glum...Jiyuu...it's for...you..."

Though she had been whispering the whole time, Jiyuu noticed rather fast that her words were becoming softer. He leaned over the bed and grabbed his mother by her shoulders; she was freezing, clammy to the touch. "No...no no no, please..."

"If I could...sacrifice...my...self...again...for you...I'd do...it...in...a...heartbeat..."

"MA! PLEASE DON'T GO! STAY WITH ME!"

"...I...love you...Jiyuu...we...always...d...did..."

"No...please...Mama...I need you...I don't want you to die..."

The way Jiyuu spoke, he sounded like a child. He begged for something that Warai knew she couldn't give him, and it was painfully obvious to her that the boy she raised was going to have to learn how to live with a loss in his heart. A single tear rolled down her face, and her gentle blue eyes were losing their life, turning pale and dull.

"...I...won't...b...be...gone...I'll...always...be with you..."

There was nothing Jiyuu could say or do, no matter how badly he wanted to shout or cry at his mother to stay. He watched the life fade from her, and the moment he saw every single muscle possible on her face freeze into the gentle smile with a half-lidded stare, he understood that she was no longer with him. The room was grey to him, the only color he could see in it being the pale blue eyes that used to be so full of life and always bursting with joy. Memories of his childhood time spent with Warai, though distant, flowed through his head like a slideshow of better times. She was always smiling at him, always ready to play when he was just a child. She would take him to the park and push his swing, ride down the slide with him, always cheer him on when she trained him in shinobi arts, and would help him study things he believed at the time to be impossible. When he was but four years of age, Jiyuu would often be afraid to sleep in his own room alone, and would opt to crawl into the bed between his mother and father; Ketsui would only roll over in his sleep, but Warai would cradle her baby boy and whisper things that made him feel more comfortable, more safe. She refused to let him go a minute being hungry, always ready to whip up that terrible food of hers, but she had given more than her all when being a mother...a mother to a boy that she didn't even conceive.

The heart rate monitor flatlined, and Jiyuu continued holding her by the shoulders even as he heard the door to the room slam open. Medic-nin and nurses alike swarmed the room, shoving Jiyuu aside and pushing him out the room, explaining to him that they needed to act quick and he needed to not be in the room so they could work. He couldn't hear them. His gaze was focused only on his mother, who was finally sleeping at peace comfortably in the hospital bed.

Ma...you once told me that you didn't care what color my eyes were...you raised me as if I were your own child, because you loved me. I'm so sorry...I always doubted you in the back of my mind, and being alone for so long made me bitter. Even with the damn Byakugan, I was blind to everything happening around me...I was blind to the love and care you wanted to share with me.

All he could do was watch the hospital room's door shut, and caught a final glimpse of Warai's peaceful, smiling face before the door shut him out completely. Something deep in his heart snapped, and he continued to stare at the door without any control of himself, his mind blank.

...I really am a horrible son...I never deserved you as a mother.

The air was still outside, and Ketsui found the grey mist to be less than appealing. He walked along the pier with a bucket of fish bait in hand, his gaze downcast while his legs carried him along with hard, heavy footsteps. He would try fishing again this evening, and hoped it would bring his mind some sort of peace.

A gentle hand gripped his shoulder, and the Man of Five stopped to turn around and address whoever was halting him.

There was nobody there.

A pit formed in his stomach, and he dropped the bucket by his foot. The metal thing smacked against the ground with a loud twang, sending fish bait all over the place, but the jounin couldn't have cared less. His irises shrank, and he slowly turned his head to where the hospital was in the distance. The sun was hidden away behind it, though it's light would not cut through the thick clouds overhead. A gentle breeze flowed across the land, and Ketsui could feel his beloved Yang necklace sway with it. His shaking hand went up to it, grasping the metal object with calloused fingers that held it to his heart. He could feel his brow sag, and he brought his attention down to his feet. He stood like this for a minute, unmoving and uncaring about the world around him as he took a moment to mourn one final time, in silence.

...I understand...I'll miss you, Warai...I will always think about you...

Long ago, a single bridge in the Hidden Mist brought comfort to a young boy when he had graduated to the rank of genin from his academy. It was on that fateful day when he learned just who he really was...what he really was. He had unlocked his Byakugan under the right conditions, and it was this discovery alone that made him wonder just how things would be different if he never awoke his latent abilities. Alone on the bridge, Jiyuu rested against the railing on his forearm, focused on nothing but the mist before him and the great beyond that was out there in the distance. Many things he could have done differently, many things that perhaps would have made his life much easier. Maybe not saving Sakana in the Swamp of Misery during the Chuunin Exams, so he would have both normal arms. Perhaps never using his Byakugan, so that the Hyuuga would never have targeted him. Surely, he could have trained himself better...and not let Warai take the fall in his place. And...he could have been a proper son who didn't put his parents through so much hell.

He looked towards the end of the bridge, and could envision his childhood self sat against the railing and crying into his hands, afraid of what he was and without his genin headband. If only he knew what his life was about to become, just how much a simple pair of onyx eyes would land him in hot water. Damn Hyuuga...damn Hidden Leaf...damn Hidden Mist...damn shinobi-kind. His fake arm went towards his forehead protector that was attached to the bandana he kept tied tightly around his head, and in a swift motion, pulled the headpiece off altogether. The lengthy hair that would normal cascade down his back but was kept hidden beneath the headband unfurled, flowing dramatically in the wind as it was set free. The metal plate with his village's symbol etched into it found itself being squeezed harder and harder by the wooden, bandaged hand, and Jiyuu glared out towards the distance as he did so. For a fleeting moment, he considered throwing the Kami-forsaken thing into the river below, never to wear it again. Back when he was a child, on this very bridge, he felt as if he were a monster. Now, as an adult, he only felt cursed, inadequate, doomed to always fall short of being what he needed to be. What was even the point of becoming a shinobi if he couldn't protect people he cared about. He clenched his teeth, even making audible low grunting noises. All he wanted to do as a shinobi was protect the peace that had been won before his time, but that peace was never meant to last. Peace, in a world full of different ideals and levels of morality, would never last. That was the nature of shinobi, that was the nature of human beings. His whole life, it meant nothing! He would never be able to save anything because his efforts would be in vain after time had passed. He pulled back his arm to throw his forehead protector out into the water, ready to rid himself of the damn metal.

And then, a hand grabbed his forearm.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, friend."

The hand that had stopped him was armored, covered in a steel plate gauntlet. The arm itself was emerging from a cloak, and the smiling face of Kyofu himself completed the image. He could see Jiyuu's angered look become flustered, confused, but his arm did begin to lower with the plate still in hand. "The world could use more shinobi like you," he finished.

Touching words, but they were tossed into a hollow well that was Jiyuu's mind. His face flattened into somnolent stoicism, and he looked down at the engraved metal with a long, empty gaze.

"...but is that true? I wonder, Kyofu...I really do..."

"Of course it's true. Why are you doubting yourself so much all of a sudden?"

"Well...no reason, I guess." The lie was boldfaced, and the flat depressing tone of voice was the dead giveaway. "...just...another day in paradise...right?"

"What's going on, Jiyuu? Tell me, please."

"Why are you even here, Kyofu..."

"...I'm transferring here, to your village."

The news didn't take Jiyuu's eyes off the metal plate, which he was running his thumb along.

"Why would you want to come here, of all places..."

"Because back in the Hidden Sand, all I could think about was the death of people close to me. My parents, my neighbors, many old friends...Jari betrayed us, she was a Jashinist the whole time. It's too much for me...I needed a change of scenery."

"I see..."

"Now how about you answer my question, huh? What're you doing out here, looking to toss your headband away?"

"..."

"Jiyuu, c'mon. You can tell me."

"Because I don't deserve it, Kyofu," he mumbled, clutching the metal tighter. "The fish in that river below are more capable shinobi than I am. That's why I was about to throw this damn thing away. I don't deserve it."

"Don't be a damn fool, of course you do."

"How can I believe that when I let my mother die..."

Suddenly, it all came full circle. In each village, people were fighting their own battles privately. Jiyuu had been there for Kyofu when his own mother died, though he let Kyofu have his space and checked up on him to make sure he wasn't sinking into darkness. With a pained expression, Kyofu averted his gaze. "...ah...I'm sorry, Jiyuu, I really am. You know that I understand how you feel."

"I could've done something, Kyofu. Maybe if I trained harder, only a bit harder, I could've prevented it from happening. But...I didn't, and she had to pay the price." The Hyuuga's Black Eye looked up at the sky, his hair flowing in the wind still. His eyes were a little red, dried up after a long time from weeping, though Kyofu didn't seem to notice. "...I don't know what to do...I don't know if I even want to keep at this shinobi thing if it's only going to result in my efforts being for nothing..."

"This is the life we chose, Jiyuu," Kyofu explained. Jiyuu's lonesome shoulder was met with Kyofu's hand, and the Hyuuga's Black Eye made no attempt to rid himself of the contact. "I remember you saying that your mother was a kunoichi. It was the life she had chosen, too. And as shinobi, we will put our lives on the line for things we hold dear. Yes, we don't always succeed, and yes, it's failures to protect people we love that hurt the most..."

"...it's like a weight is tied to my body. This failure, my biggest failure, it feels so heavy."

"I know, but you can only overcome this by working through it. You have to realize that if your mother died fighting to protect this village, or protect you, that she had no regrets." He managed to get Jiyuu to look at him, and he gave him a light nod. "Shinobi never toss away their lives without purpose. Remember this."

"...how did you deal with the pain...when your mother passed..."

"I didn't. It ate away at me like a parasite, and I could think of nothing but her death. The only thing that kept me from going over the edge was you and Jari being there for me." The mention of the kunoichi made him look sour, even upset. "...time heals all wounds, Jiyuu, but you have to be willing to let people help you. Though death is the permanent severing of bonds, it's also the most powerful strengthener of existing ones. You have people in this village that'll stand with you in dark times like these, I'm sure, and you just have to let them. The world isn't your enemy anymore...so don't fight against it."

The bond between this man and Jiyuu was simple, nothing one would consider incredibly strong since they were merely acquaintances in Jiyuu's eyes. But the words he was being told were wise, too wise for Jiyuu to believe were coming out of Kyofu's mouth. He didn't know if he could act on such advice, not after he had been fighting against both the Abyss and the world at the same time. Maybe in time, he would be able to open up again, and perhaps he could do what was being suggested. For now, though, Jiyuu still wasn't sure. The Hyuuga's Black Eye brought his attention skyward once more, eyes narrowed as they stared up into the grey clouded sky. Afternoon sunlight fought to break through, but much like Jiyuu's own mind, the clouds refused to open up and allow any sort of clarity. Jiyuu could only hope that, with enough time, the clouds would part, and everything would brighten up once again.

He heard Kyofu sigh a bit, and pull his hand off of Jiyuu's shoulder. The footsteps of his metal greaves clopped against the bridge as he walked by Jiyuu, silently continuing his journey to the Mizukage's office to register himself as a Mist-nin.

"Kyofu."

The swordsman halted, and only turned his head a little. Jiyuu was still looking up at the sky, though he held his headband by his side now instead of clutching the thing in front of his chest.

"...thank you."

"...anytime, bud. Find me if you wanna chat."

"...yeah."

The ex Sand-nin nodded, and continued walking until he disappeared into the mist, out of Jiyuu's sight and hearing range. The wind kicked up a little, and the Hyuuga's Black Eye could feel the Yin necklace he wore sway with it. A deep breath went in and out of his lungs, and he quickly gathered his hair up and tied his bandana back on, only allowing the bangs that framed his face and draped down to his chest to flow out from the headwear. He adjusted the plate some so it sat more comfortably on his forehead, and gave the headband a good final tightening.

Though his heart was heavy, he would persist for now. Jiyuu's only wish was that Warai's death would not be in vain, and that he could do something about his situation. He understood better than anyone that he couldn't do this alone...

...but who would he turn to if the one person that he wanted to speak with didn't want him around?

It was some sort of a miracle, but the sky had opened up and allowed the warmth of the afternoon sun to settle on the Hidden Mist. Times like this were a bit rare around here, but it was hard for one to truly appreciate it considering the times. A glumness hung in the air around Ketsui, who had taken a small boat out behind his home onto the lake. He clutched at a fishing rod with one hand, slumped over with his focus on a small photo of him, Warai, and Jiyuu that he held in his other. Those had been far simpler times, when the well-being of his family was never in question and the world was still at peace. Even today, with such powerful Kage and the largest shinobi alliance ever conceived, nothing could stop a few bad people from causing trouble. One cannot live in a world of light without finding a few shadows, Ketsui knew this very well. Even so, he had hoped that he could turn a blind eye to the darkness, and try his best to stay in the light for the rest of his days on this planet. But Jiyuu's abandonment of the village, his son's bitter attitude towards old allies and his own family, the death of Warai...the shadows had found Ketsui, and were slowly closing in. Sometimes they made it hard for him to breath, and the Man of Five wasn't sure how much more of this emotional pain he could fathom.

Someone else stepped into his boat, but Ketsui had heard them approaching on the surface of the lake. They were calm, gentle, quiet. The fish beneath the boat swam away in fear of a large predator walking along the lake's surface, and it would take a moment for them to come back and take interest in Ketsui's bait.

"Sorry for scaring the fish away," he heard Jiyuu say. He could feel the young man get comfortable in the boat, and it sounded like he was facing away.

"It's fine, kiddo."

It really was a nice afternoon, and they really were rare in this part of the world where mist choked the village and it's islands. And yet, it was harder to enjoy when both had a mutual...bitterness that was hard to ignore. Things had been said, events had occurred, and there was certainly a rift between the two. There were many things Ketsui wanted to say, but he felt that Jiyuu would not hear them. His son...his adopted son...was all the family he had left in this world. No real legacy of his own, save for the things he did a horrible job of teaching Jiyuu. Warai, too, left no legacy other than her teachings and memories in the head of the Hyuuga's Black Eye. Ketsui didn't know why such things came to his mind, why he suddenly felt that the impact of his presence on this world was going to mean nothing when he left, but this was the first time he really cared. He never wanted to leave a legacy, he just wanted to live out the rest of his days in peace with his wife and son. Perhaps it was divine punishment for all he had done in his past, all Warai had done in her own. Neither of them were saints, not even close, and if Jiyuu followed their footsteps in any sense, he had probably done some questionable things in his own time away.

"Do you know," Jiyuu asked. "...about Ma..."

The mention of the blonde brought Ketsui back, and he found himself staring longingly at the picture he had brought out onto the boat. Even with Jiyuu behind him, he felt so alone, and his body numbed over with the prickling sensation of solitude.

"Yeah...I felt it. People came by with papers later, and that sealed the deal. Medical expenses, her will...the usual, I guess."

"I was with her when it happened. She...uh...she gave me her necklace."

A sad grin lifted the corner of Ketsui's mouth, and he focused on his wife in the photo. "...yeah. Me and her made a deal a long time ago when I bought our necklaces. They were for us, a lovey-dovey thing, but we agreed that if we were close to dyin', we'd find a way to give you our necklaces beforehand so you'd have somethin' to remember us by."

"..."

"Can you feel your Ma's presence? In that necklace?"

"Yeah."

"That's the idea."

A hum came from Jiyuu's end of the boat, and he absentmindedly gripped the Yin necklace as he looked down into the water. He activated his Byakugan and watched fish swim around to and fro. They seemed happy being together, as a family...why would anyone want to separate them? Jiyuu cleared his throat, and the small awkward silence continued, only the light creaking of the boat and gentle rolling of waves somewhere in the distance. Even the construction noises that found themselves to be a part of everyday life now had halted. A pair of seagulls flew overhead, and Ketsui took note of them immediately. One appeared much smaller than the other.

"Ma was supposed to have a week, seven days. It's only been six."

"Doctors ain't always right," Ketsui spoke, though there was a slight shake in his low voice. "They said Tsuyo could never be a shinobi again when he lost his hearin', now he's a hunter-nin."

"..."

"...maybe she did have it in her to live for a week, but she only held out waitin' to see you. When she got her wish, she was able to...rest."

The situation seemed like that, didn't it? With another small hum of self-thought, Jiyuu deactivated his eyes and continued staring back at the house. It seemed so far away, so small and fleeting like a dream. Ketsui knew it looked like that, he had been glancing back at it occasionally in small, pitiful hopes that Warai would be standing by tree in the back, waiting for him to come home. Much like a dream, his hopes were fleeting...and meaningless. He had lost his wife, that was the end of that...no magic on this planet could bring her back. The only thing he had left was his son, and even the chances of Jiyuu giving a damn about the father who had screamed he was never wanted in the first place seemed...

The Man of Five swallowed, and looked at the boy's smiling face in the photo, the sight of such a happy child that once looked up to him making his heart wrench.

"...Jiyuu, I'm sorry for what I said to you...I didn't mean any of it."

"You don't have to lie to me, I know you did."

"..."

"...I'd feel the same, probably. Being alone most of your life, and then you find someone who can deal with you. Then there's a kid in the picture, not even your own, and you aren't sure how serious you want to get with this special someone all of a sudden." There was a bitter smile on Jiyuu's face, and he cleared his throat again. "...I figured that you'd be hesitant at first, knowing what I was. But you stuck around and put up with me."

"You're lookin' at it the wrong way, kiddo."

"..."

"I didn't want you at first not because you'd be in the way of my relationship with your Ma, but 'cause I had no idea how to be a Pa. I was an orphan myself, 'cause...well...shit happens. I never had a family, ever. I didn't wanna screw up bein' a Pa, I wanted you to have a good life with a father figure who know what the hell he was doin'. I already knew Warai was gonna be an excellent Ma for you."

"...she changed your mind?"

"Yeah, and I'm still not sure how she did it. I remember, there was a time one evening when I was meditating in the livin' room, and you crawled on over in front of me. You knew how to walk at that point, but you still liked crawlin' around." The memories from so long ago in a more innocent time made Kestui smile more, and tears welled up in his eyes. "You looked right at me, and then you stood up and waddled into me for a hug. Kami, I picked up you and held you so close...some kinda warmth filled my heart up. I didn't know how to be a Pa, but I knew I was gonna try."

"I don't remember that."

"You were barely a year old, I wouldn't think you'd remember."

"...hm."

"Maybe I didn't want a son 'cause I was scared, and maybe I stayed 'round here 'cause of Warai's influence, but it was you that convinced me to take this path in life, and that it was the right thing to do. My only regret is that I could've been a better father overall..." His smile flattened, and he looked to himself in the photo. "...no father should make his son think they need to be perfect."

"..."

"It's a parent's duty to let their kid know they'll be accepted no matter what happens. I was pretty bad at it, I guess..."

"You didn't fail me. The only person you failed is yourself."

Ketsui frowned at himself in the picture, but didn't speak up to cut his son off.

"I'm closing myself off from the outside world, but you're doing the exact same thing. Just like with Jiyuu, your relationships with allies in this village strained over the years, and you spent most time around Warai. You want Jiyuu to be how he always was, but Warai's death will hinder the process."

Something wasn't right, something was definitely off. Ketsui looked over his shoulder at his son, and was surprised to see he was the only person on the boat. The house was gone too, and the gentle sunlight from the afternoon was swallowed up by grey mist. In fact, the lake as a whole was being swallowed by mist, and the voice continued to speak.

"If there was anything Jiyuu needs right now, it's his father. And if there's anything you need to bring yourself out of this rut, it's your son."

A loud snore woke Ketsui up; his own snore, and it was so powerful that it made his head snap upright. His vision darted around to see where he was, but he quickly realized that he had fallen asleep on the couch of his living room. It was quiet, save for the ticking of a clock and the sounds of the gentle water on the lake. Jiyuu's door was open, of course, but he also wasn't there; grey light from a clouded sky filtered through, and dust could be seen in the air because of it. The wall was also still in a state of disrepair. His hand went to his face, rubbing and massaging it to get himself more awake.

...oh...I got home with what was left of the fishing bait, put it in the fridge, the guy came and explained that Warai died, and...

And then, in his loneliness, felt a nap was in order. He hadn't been sleeping well at all with so much on his mind, but with such a dream as the one he just had, he still felt exhausted. His free hand was clutching something, and he looked down to find that it was the same exact photo he had with him in the dream. He had been squeezing the frame so hard that he cracked the glass in front of the photo with his thumb, right over where his face was. Blood leaked through the cracks and onto the photo, staining it with dried blood. He pulled his thumb away and looked at it, plucking out shards. A sad sigh escaped him, and when he finished pulling out glass shards, he looked straight ahead at his broken wall, figuring he should probably fix it. And yet...

...I should speak with Jiyuu, huh...maybe I should start bein' a good Pa to him...