A/N: Welcome to yet another chapter of Life's Stellar Hour. The plot is starting to begin, so things are going to pick up the pace. Well, maybe. Happy reading!

An Hour's Education

You lack a splendid goal? Then simply go
and learn how to consume!

- Betti Alver, Stellar Hour

For as long as Sakura could remember, she had always had a goal. Not usually as grand as Naruto's or as dark as Sasuke's, but somewhere, somehow, she had wanted something. But it always ended up a little twisted, a little skewed, until before she knew it, she was completely off the right track. She ended up helping other shinobi to achieve their goals, leaving hers to fall to the wayside.

Leaving Konoha had bee her way to fix that, to find her own ninja way. Sarutobi Asuma-sensei, from what she had garnered through rumors, had done much the same thing when he was her age. He ran off because he felt overshadowed by the Hokage. It had become necessary for him, or else he feared he would never grow.

Sakura didn't feel that she needed to grow. That wasn't quite right. No, she wanted to breathe. She wanted a chance to do something for herself.

The war had dragged on, even after the presumed annihilation of Madara and his plan. Kabuto had had plans of his own when he teamed up with Konoha's old enemy. And between the two of them, they had successfully uprooted an entire continent of Shinobi. But they hadn't defeated them.

Now, the war was beginning to fizzle. There were still rogues and ambushes; there were evil men who took advantage of the weaknesses of the five great nations. But even Sakura sensed a death of motivation.

It was still dangerous to travel alone and shinobi still needed to patrol borders, but the casualties were dimming and negotiations were finally in progress. Sakura dared to hope that maybe—given a few months time—the war might finally come to a close.

But the advancement of the six shinobi that she had encountered, and their presence so far inland on the Fire Country's soil, unsettled her. Despite her attempts, she couldn't shake that persistent shadow of doubt, the fear that accompanied her when she was alone. Something must be coming.

She glanced at Gin, sitting against the trunk of a tree; he watched the fire quietly, scrutinizing it with a glare that would have had fangs, had he had any.

His presence unsettled her as well. For the hundredth time, she asked herself what he was doing in her world. Was it really a coincidence that she had found him? She wasn't so sure she believed that anything was a coincidence anymore, especially when it came to silver haired angels falling out of the sky.

And despite his arrival, she still didn't know anything about him. He only gave her an abbreviated version of his duties back in his home. He didn't specify. He had merely implied that he wasn't such a great person and, in the end, that he had probably deserved to die.

But if she believed him—that he had died and been reborn into the shinobi—then he certainly had a reason to be here, didn't he?

Sakura had never believed in gods, but she was beginning to wonder if maybe a higher power might exist after all.

She turned to Gin, "You've been quiet lately."

He glanced at her, allowing his stare to resume its fox-like nonchalance, and smiled, "Ah, I s'pose I have."

"You're trying to piece together what you witnessed earlier, aren't you?" Sakura watched the flames swallow one another, listening as they fought in a flurry of crackles. "I'm talking about the chakra. I half expected you to have a bunch of questions."

"I did, at first," Gin leaned back on his good arm, letting his gaze trail the dark outlines of the trees, "but I understand it now. I just hadta think about it."

Sakura's eye widened, "What do you mean?"

"Chakra is simple," He began with a grin. "Based on your original explanations and then havin' seen it, I've gotta pretty good understandin' of how it works."

"S-simple?" she gasped, wanting to protest. Then she clamped her mouth shut.

He nodded, "Yep. Simple."

Then, he held up his free hand, looking at the lump of bandages that still enclosed it. "I got a feel for it back when you were fightin'. Now I know what I'm lookin' for. B'fore, I was searchin' for reiatsu, but it feels completely different. I feel kinda like I'm in a gigai, tryin' t'summon spirit particles. Nothin' reacts. But then, when I shed the skin, mentally of course, it's kinda like opening a door."

Sakura held up a hand, "You're not being clear. A gigai? And reiatsu? These are more terms from your world?"

Gin nodded, "Reiatsu is—was—the life force of my world. It was the source of my power. It too was in all living things, like your chakra, but most humans had no knowledge of its presence."

"There were exceptions?"

"I s'pose there's always exceptions," he replied, thinking specifically of Ichigo. A human who had taken the weapon of the divine—the otherworldly—and then surpassed them all.

"And a gigai?"

"That's th' term for a human body used by Shinigami so that we can take a form in th' human world."

Sakura leaned back on her hands, analyzing him. "So, now that you're looking for something different—something human—you sense more of our world?"

"Hmm…" Gin slowly stood up and Sakura watched his eyes narrow as he turned to a nearby tree. For a second, he merely looked at it, as if he might suddenly start up a conversation, but when Sakura looked closer, she could see that he was concentrating.

"What—?" Sakura watched him raise his good hand and make a fist. "Gin, what are you doing?"

But she failed to ask again as she realized that his hand was glowing a rich green. It was not too different from her healing chakra, she noted. However, this chakra was not there to grant life; Sakura could feel something entirely different radiating from it. Why didn't I sense this before?

"A man named Kurosaki Ichigo had so much reiatsu that it was always goin' sometimes, like a faucet that wouldn't turn off. Chakra's kinda like that as well. It can be contained or released at th' whim of the user—if the user has some concept of how it's done. Ya followin' me?"

"Of course," Sakura snorted, "it's called chakra control."

"Ya couldn't sense any chakra within me—at least nothin' special. But that's cause I hadn't turned it on." He gave her another one of his Gin-grins. "But after seein' your fight t'day, I've got a better understandin'."

Gin's chakra was not as powerful as Sakura's. He had yet to attain her precision with chakra control—or any control, really. And he was still getting accustomed to the feel of it. The way that it coursed through his body, pumping through his veins like a drug. He hadn't realized how much he missed the feeling of power. But this time, this time, he thought, he could bring something into fruition. He wasn't totally lost in this world, now that he had something to learn—something he could endeavor to master.

For the first time, Gin's smile lost its sarcasm. He failed to mask his true feelings—the happiness he felt at having finally made a step forward. He didn't know if it was a step towards recovery, but it didn't matter. He didn't care where he ended up.

That's right. I've got nothin' left. It doesn't matter what I do. And having acknowledged that fact, Gin struck out at the tree, letting his knuckles collide with the bark.

The tree didn't explode, as Sakura expected it might. But then again, that was only taking into account the force that she used when hitting trees. Generally, when she hit a tree, it didn't remain a tree.

Some of the bark crumbled at the impact, but the punch had had a quieter effect than either had suspected. Sakura felt herself take a step closer, but she halted warily when a slow creeping sizzle—like a low whine of pain—began to exude from the spot where Gin's fist still maintained contact. Something began to drip, and at first Sakura thought that Gin's hand was bleeding, but upon closer inspection, she found that the tree was bleeding.

"Gin…I'm not really an expert on trees. That's more of Yamato-sensei's thing. But I do know that they don't normally bleed…"

At least they hadn't when she had hit them.

But Gin wasn't listening. He retracted his hand, holding it up into the light of the moon. "Impossible…"

"That's what I'm saying," Sakura continued, "they don't bleed…"

He was suddenly aware of her. "Wha'?"

"The tree—"

"—ain't bleeding," he finished for her, extending his hand so that she could see it clearly. "Nor am I."

She caught his wrist in a firm grip, her medical mind suddenly taking over. No abrasions or wounds along the palm. She flipped his hand over. No blood, but... Her grip tightened and Sakura half-dragged Gin to the fire so that she might confirm her suspicion.

"Poison…" She released him and rushed over towards the tree, careful not to touch the corroding bark. It's definitely poison. And not one that I recognize. He created it with his chakra? Is this a bloodline limit? But that's not possible…

She stopped in mid-thought and straightened, regarding him with a strange curiosity that slowly transformed into suspicion. "What was that? A bloodline limit? Don't tell me that you fabricated that entire Shinigami story. You really are crazy…all this time…"

Gin held up his hands, "I dunno what all this is about—"

But Sakura was already retreating into the forest.

"Wait, where are ya goin'?"

She paused briefly, "I'm doing what I should have done from the beginning. I'm leaving."

"I'm tryin' to explain." Gin didn't know why, but he didn't want to see her go. She was the answer to many questions. Questions he himself didn't even know yet. But he knew now that he needed her. He understood the concept of chakra and, with time, he could further increase his prowess, but he was going to need some help. "You can't jus' leave me here in th' woods."

"Oh yeah?"

He withdrew Shinsou, allowing the wakizashi to catch the light of the fire. "This is th' answer. I dunno anythin' bout bloodline limits. But Shinsou had two abilities in my world. The first was th' one that I used the most often. In both shikai and bankai—th' two levels of ability—it extended and contracted at my will—five hundred times th' speed of sound."

Sakura was listening, but her expression was guarded. She didn't move. "And the second?"

"My bankai, Kamishini no Yari's true ability, was poison."

Sakura felt suddenly exhausted. The entire story just continued to add layer upon layer. Everything was a blur now. A blur of technical terms and coincidences. "If the sword was connected to your…soul, as you say, then when it died, it merged with you in this world?"

Looking back on it, Sakura realized that it was an elementary explanation but it was the only one that seemed to work. It was possible, she supposed, given the train of recent events, that Shinsou, as Gin called his wakizashi, had passed on its power to its master upon death. If the two were truly one soul, one being, then upon Gin's rebirth, he hadn't lost his power—just found a new outlet for it.

"See...I wasn't lyin' t' ya." His eyes softened a bit.

Sakura hadn't known that she had been holding her breath until it flew from her in a sigh. "I'm going to go find more firewood. I'll be back in a bit."

The fire still burned brightly, but Gin merely shrugged and sat beside it, turning his attention to his hand. "Do whatcha want. I ain't goin' anywhere."

The woods were dark without the fire. It was both a relief and a bit frightening. Had Sakura been younger, she would have created monsters in the bushes, eyes in the shadows. But she was older now and, luckily, a bit more practical. But still, the night was dark, even with the moon. As if the clouds had drifted down from the sky and surrounded her and her alone.

But the woods were also quiet. She had walked away from Gin several times to find solace in the solitude—in the sole companionship of the trees and the nighttime animals that watched from their perches. Sometimes she preferred it—the solitary traveling, the missions without a team. But in reality, Sakura missed the chemistry of Team 7. First with Sasuke, and later with Sai. It was amazing how things could change. How decisions could break bonds and simultaneously lead to new ones.

It wasn't that she disliked the other eleven members of the Guardian Ninja. She just wasn't close to them. It had been a personal decision. After healing so many injured people—citizens and ninja alike—Sakura had realized that, for the good of her sanity, she could not afford to let her emotions interfere. At first, it had been difficult, but if being one of the Twelve had taught her anything, it was that her personal feelings didn't matter. Not in the long run, anyway.

Which was why Gin had become a problem. Because she cared to see him through to the end. Even if his story wasn't real. Even if everything he had been telling her might be a lie. She felt personally responsible. She hadn't felt personally responsible for anyone since her run with Konoha—since her battle beside all of her friends against Madara.

Why do I always end up caring? This was the reason she never found time to do anything for herself. Why her goals always ended up obsolete and forgotten.

But what are my goals? She thought of her desire to leave Konoha. The force that fueled her decision. It was to find her own way. Who am I kidding. I don't have any real goals. Maybe I never have…

"Damn it!" She said aloud, drawing to a stop. "It's always the same…"

Sakura felt more alone, then, than she had ever felt before. Stop it! She scolded herself, You're being selfish! You chose to leave Konoha. To be on your own. What did you expect, now—

But something caused her to halt her mental rant. A shuffling in the brush that stopped the interior monologue as if she had been saying it aloud. Something suddenly felt very wrong. The same darkness of the evening had descended from the night sky to envelop her.

She felt a tingle on her neck, as if someone might be breathing on her. Yet, try as she might, she could discern nothing. She fought the urge to turn abruptly, to glance behind. Something deep and cold overcame the night air, muzzling it in such a way that she felt almost devoid of life. It drew her down deeper and deeper, until she thought that she might cry out.

It was familiar in a way, that shocking fear that froze her blood in her veins. It was a fear that she had experienced some time ago—in what felt like another lifetime—when she had stared down Orochimaru in the Forest of Death. Or when she had seen Naruto overcome by the Kyuubi. The fear that defied odds—when she knew she didn't stand a chance. It paralyzed her to the forest floor with a force stronger than the roots of the trees.

But was this feeling—this overpowering desperation—her own?

A second rustle in the bushes awoke her slightly. She could see the glow of the fire in the distance of the trees, as if it were a beacon calling her home, offering to warm her soul. Soul…a voice seemed to whisper. I want your soul.

She heard something move again, this time behind her. Sakura wanted to turn around, to face whatever enemy awaited her, but she couldn't find the strength. She couldn't even find her voice to cry out. Move! She thought. Move!

With great effort, she managed to stumble back. But it only alleviated some of the blow. Her back struck a nearby tree and she coughed violently as the air was knocked from her lungs. She cringed but forced herself to look up, glancing around ferociously for the source. She was struck again, this time in the side, and as her body rolled to a stop, she knew that she was bleeding.

The pain seemed to bring her back to her senses and she scrambled to her feet, still trying to catch her breath. She struck out with her fist, hoping to contact her invisible enemy, but her hand caught nothing but air. When she felt a sudden change in the air to her left, she instinctively ducked, protecting her face with her arms. Something caught her in the shoulder, but she managed to mitigate some of the damage with her chakra. She then extended her chakra to her other wounds, beginning to heal them as well.

But she lost her concentration as something clutched her entire body—perhaps a hand—that nearly crushed the life from her. Sakura squirmed, fighting for air, fighting to free her body from that terrible pressure; she could almost hear her bones cracking beneath the weight.

Think, think, think. But Sakura couldn't think. The darkness seemed real now, as it encroached upon her mind. The haze of the trees became a dismal shadow in the background. Her breathing was labored and she could no longer feel her body. She didn't have to be a medic-nin to know that she was dying.

How ironic—the way that life worked. One moment she was arguing with a friend, the next she was holding his hand as he passed on to the next life. And even now, in her case, she had only wandered off for fresh air—to recollect her thoughts—and now she felt her thoughts flying from her, sucked away by the very essence of the idea of death itself.

Your soul…She heard the cool calling of the voice. The hollow cry of despair and longing that resonated from that request down to the core of her entire being. It reminded her of the void that followed the death of a companion—the feeling of unearthly loss—the feeling of loss itself.

For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to acknowledge her losses. Her true losses. Not the loss of goals, the loss of opportunities. But the loss of her comrades. Her inability to protect them. To save them. Suddenly Sakura wanted to cry. Even in the midst of death—if death was what awaited her—she could only think of her failures and the pain that accompanied them.

And then she thought of Gin. Was this what his death had been like? What his last moments had been? A recollection of regrets? What personal pain did he carry?

"Gin…" Sakura whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm sorry that I've been so stupid…"

"Save th' apology for later."

At first she thought she had dreamed his voice, but the pounding of his feet was undoubtedly a real echo in her head. He was there, she realized, somewhere in the dark, and shortly after, she discerned the sound of steel slicing through flesh. A cry—pained and angry—ricocheted through the canopy of trees and the night air greeted her again as the hand's grip loosened; she inhaled it greedily into her lungs, even as she fell towards the forest floor. She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact of leaves and dirt. She would welcome it, she decided—that feeling of something sturdy and real against her back.

But her fall was interrupted by something much softer. Sakura tried to blink away the stars but the world continued to spin. Even so, she could feel the strength of Gin's sinewy arms as they lowered her to the ground.

"Stay awake." She wanted to obey him, but sleep was so close. An eternal peaceful slumber. "Sakura!"

She felt him suddenly lift her again as he jumped for safety. The jarring brought her closer to consciousness. Finally, she could discern the outline of his face. He was looking ahead, cautious and expectant.

"You can see it?" Sakura found her voice, but it came out in a croak.

"No."

"Then how?"

"Not now." He tensed in preparation to leap away again towards safety. "Try t' heal yourself. You're bleeding."

Sakura knew she didn't have the strength, but she examined her body to see the extent of the damage. Two broken ribs, maybe some internal bleeding. Pulse is a bit high. Breathing still labored. Muscle damage. This isn't good.

"I dunno know how to kill it," Gin admitted, finally, as he leapt up again, evading a blow from their invisible enemy. "My chakra power isn't strong enough. I'm gonna make a run for it."

Feeling that this was the best decision, Gin tore away from the battle. He was fast even while carrying her. Sakura wasn't sure how much was a dream and how much was reality, but the pain of her wounds had become a sharp throbbing that seemed to cancel out any sense of time.

The cries of their enemy seemed distant now, further off, and she felt safe. Safer than she had felt in a long time. Even with the danger of death, crepitating like an endless shadow, she couldn't help but feel that Gin would keep it at bay. He would protect her.

Normally this would have bothered her. It was the same results she had always had—with Naruto, with Sasuke, with all her other friends. Someone was always having to save her. But this time, as she thought back to that chilling fear, she felt that it was justified.

Finally, he slowed and she felt him lower her onto the ground. Her wounds ached from the new pressure and she whimpered, but she didn't have the strength for words. She wanted to sleep; she wanted to sleep away that awful cry of pain—that invisible voice belonging to an invisible enemy.

But, much to her internal dismay, Gin worked to prevent it. "Ya can't sleep right now, Sakura. Not like this. I'm not a medic. I need ya to help me…"

I can't help you. I can't even help myself.

"Sakura…tell me what t' do!" Gin slapped her gently on the cheeks, trying to rouse her.

Sakura opened her eyes and met his. They were open, she realized, but it was too dark to see their color. It wasn't, however, too dark to see the worry. She realized, then, that he was afraid she would die. He was afraid of losing her. Loss... you know it too, don't you Gin?

She lifted her hand, "Lend…lend me your chakra."

Gin's hand enclosed hers obediently. Sakura knew what to do as she felt his chakra rise to greet her. She merged it with her own, using it to strengthen and fortify her own receding energy. With a medic's touch, Sakura moved from each part of her body, working only to heal the dire wounds, while leaving the others to heal naturally. The internal bleeding stopped, the ribs were put into a preliminary state of healing. She felt some of the pain dim and her head began to clear.

When she felt that she was no longer in critical condition, Sakura stopped, determined not to use more of his chakra than necessary. However, she continued to clutch his hand. With a small smile, she squeezed it. "Thank you."

He looked away, letting his face melt back into its usual expression. "You're not gonna die, then?"

"No. I'll be okay now."

Gin stood, releasing her hand, and moved away out of her line of sight. "Get some rest," he ordered. "I'll keep watch."

Sakura closed her eyes. "That thing—what was it?"

"We'll talk 'bout this later."

There was something unsettling in his reply. The way he brushed it off. But he knew something, she sensed, that she didn't know. And if there was actually something in her world that Gin understood…something that he recognized…

She wasn't quite sure she wanted to know after all.