Word Count: 400.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
A/N: No, the "they" is not Team 10.
"They shouldn't have died."
The first time he told her that, he was standing over the cenotaph. It was raining, Asuma was thoroughly soaked, and Kurenai had an umbrella.
The second time he said it, he was sitting in her kitchen, dry, accepting the cup of coffee Kurenai offered him and watching as little ghosts of steam rose off of the surface. He took a draught off of the surface, and while Kurenai wasn't looking, he grimaced. She put her coffee full of milk and cream; he didn't have the heart to tell her he preferred it black.
"Could you have prevented their deaths?" Kurenai asked cautiously as she poured herself a cup and sat down beside him at the island.
Asuma shook his head miserably. "I'm not even sure. It was so dark; everything happened so fast. One minute, the lot of them are standing beside me, the next they're all on the ground, kunai sticking out of their chests. They never had a chance."
Kurenai stirred her coffee cup, her voice unchangingly soft and sadly serene. "You're right. They shouldn't have had to die. But you couldn't have stopped them from dying." Her sympathetic crimson eyes looked up into his.
"How do you know that?" Asuma asked her, more uncomprehending than belligerent. The rain hit against the window, as the lights flickered momentarily.
Kurenai bit her lip, and looked out the window. The silence was resounding. Then, she spoke again, and her pale, slim fingers snaked over the surface of Asuma's hand. Her skin was cool. "Death…never stops. You can't stop death from happening." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked down. "Everyone dies, eventually. The only thing that differs is our time and manner of death. The only ones who can choose to die are those who commit suicide; the rest of us will have our life stolen from us unawares, whether we like it or not."
"Cold comfort for their families," Asuma remarked darkly.
Kurenai looked helplessly at him. "It is the best comfort I can give. And the best comfort you can give."
Asuma nodded, kissing the top of her head. "I guess you're right." The steam rising from the coffee cups formed little hands of the children those people who had died would never get to have; he shuddered away from it. "But still, they shouldn't have had to die."
"No. They shouldn't have."