A/N: I must be the slowest writer on this site and for that I apologize. I have a long list of excuses, but I'll spare you the details. I'd like you all to know, however, that your reviews have been wonderful gifts through these past few months and I have not forgotten this story or its patiently waiting fans. All I can say is: Thank you, thank you, thank you all for your thought-provoking words.

But never ask the passing time
For those who went by chance
Into pitchdarkness over Lethe meadows.

-Betti Alver, Stellar Hour

Naruto looked up from reading the inscriptions upon the stone as Gin's sinewy shadow caused a darkness to descend upon the fading sunlight splayed across the memorial's smooth surface. He hadn't realized that his hand had come to rest upon a familiar name—nor had he realized that he'd been silently thinking about it for close to two hours. Damn, I'm turning into Kakashi-sensei and I'm not even old.

"Sorry I'm late. I had t' ask this ol'—" Gin hesitated upon catching the last glimpse of resignation on Naruto's features. Without thinking, the slits of his eyes fell nonchalantly to the place where Naruto's hand rested.

But the young shinobi stood quickly, chuckling lowly, "Oh, it's so late already?" He rested an arm behind his head as he gazed up towards the fading light, "Don't worry about it. I was just thinking…"

"Th' old hag mentioned the KIA stone when I was askin' for directions. Gave me half th' Konoha history right then and there too, I think."

Naruto glanced once more at the memorial, shrugging, "I never did like history lessons, but I think everyone has a loved one's name written there."

Gin shifted uncomfortably, allowing the silence to stretch in the seconds that followed. He considered falsely pretending to care. Consistently enough in the past, he had been fully capable of striking a smile and nodding his head in an effort to appear interested and amicable—for the sake of moving up both Soul Society's and Aizen's ladder of prestige. In this new world, however, he didn't have the motivation to act like the good guy. His masks had been donned for a purpose—without that purpose, what point was there in pretending?

He had seen the way both Naruto and Sakura had been preoccupied with their past. Something had run amiss in their lives—something that they inevitably couldn't change. But Gin had had his own share of problems, and his story hadn't particularly ended well either. He didn't think he could handle anymore moping—not when he hadn't even been able to sufficiently lament his own misdoings.

However Naruto did something that Gin didn't expect. He grinned—as if all his pain were nothing, as if he could carry the world—and pulled out a kunai. "We didn't come here to talk about old grannies did we?"

"Nope," Gin concurred, raising a brow in curious respect.

"Right!" the young shinobi nodded, his old energy returning in one fluid motion. He tossed the kunai to Gin, "Take this!"

The handle of the kunai, though much smaller than that of Shinsou, felt comfortingly familiar. Gin thumbed it, testing the surface and its scope, and held it up to the light with narrowing eyes.

"This is ancient," he mumbled. He was trying to remember what century humans had used them; he certainly hadn't ever had the need, although—now that he thought about it—Soi Fon had been known to handle one a time or two. "But I guess it'll have t' do."

"It isn't a sword," Naruto confirmed, "but I just what to see if you can keep up. We'll just spar for now."

Gin huffed softly, "One arm is all I need."

"I figured as much," the future Hokage laughed lightly, spinning his own kunai on one finger until it came to rest firmly in his grip. "Let's give it a go then?"

Gin grinned, opening his eyes slightly until the light of dusk made then shine like mid-winter icicles. Finally, after all the strange occurrences since his death, he felt an exhilarating rush, a questionless call, resounding and brilliant as it swirled within him like carrion acknowledging its food—endless, boundless, demanding. Finally something familiar, something true, something that gave him a sense of himself.

He was the essence of battle—a conglomeration of colliding energies—a man destined to tell his story with a sword.

And as Naruto charged, his speed unlike anything Gin could have predicted, the Shinigami bore the fangs of the snake, garnered the instinct of a fox; he let go. There was no longer Sakura, no longer Rangiku, no longer Shinsou. There was only the here. The now. The blade in his hand. The opponent before him.

And the reverberating drive for battle as their blades met in a metallic song of approval.

"Sooooo," Ino drawled, "tell me everything!"

Sakura tilted her sake cup at an odd direction, watching as the contents splashed to one side. "Everything about what?"

"Gin-san!"

"Ino-pig," Sakura sighed, "there's nothing to tell. He's my patient."

"You came all the way back to Konoha," Ino stated pointedly. "You can't tell me that this is some ordinary guy and expect me to believe it."

One could have hoped, Sakura thought briefly. Ino might not have been the best of the Rookie 9, but she hadn't survived this long on sheer luck. Shinobi had to have keen insight—they had to see underneath the underneath, as Kakashi-sensei might have said once—and Ino certainly hadn't failed in that area. Especially when it comes to guys.

"You're right," Sakura finally admitted. "Gin isn't an ordinary guy. But he's not what you're thinking either. There's something strange going on, Ino."

"Strange how?"

She hesitated, tapping her nail against the cup as she considered her question, "Do you believe in a life beyond?"

Ino hummed thoughtfully, "Well there has to be something, right? If Kabuto could call all those dead souls back—or whatever that jutsu was—then they had to be resting somewhere. But honestly, I haven't given it a lot of thought. I don't want to think about dying when I may not actually have that long to live. Why?"

"Do you believe in other worlds?"

"I don't know, Forehead. Sure, there could be, I guess. But why?" Ino asked again.

"I healed Gin after I found him in the woods and he told me a crazy story about how he'd died in some other world—in some place called Soul Society. He didn't know anything about shinobi—about our life. He didn't know about chakra. He kept talking about how he couldn't hear his sword talking to him anymore." Sakura paused, staring into her cup as if she could draw images from the past few days out of the sake itself. "And I didn't believe one word of it, really. But then stranger things happened."

Now she glanced up, expecting to meet the stare of a rather dubious looking Ino, but her friend's face was impassive.

"One night, I wandered off and was attacked," Sakura continued, recalling the coldness, the melancholy, and the pain that had come with it. "But Ino, I couldn't see my attacker. He was gigantic, I'm sure. The trees were bending and snapping wherever he touched them, but he was entirely invisible. Gin later said that humans couldn't see them. He saved me from it, and eventually we killed it, but Gin knew what it was. It was something from his world—a bad soul. It was hard not to believe him then. He's not often serious, but when he is being serious, he seems to be telling the truth. I couldn't help but think that maybe something is happening, and maybe Gin is the answer…"

"So you brought him here…" Ino finished.

Sakura nodded, "Yeah."

"I must say Forehead," Ino whistled low, "that's one hell of a story."

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

The blonde laughed. "Come on Sakura," she chastised. "We're shinobi. We're all crazy."

Sakura snorted, finally endeavoring to down her cup in a gulp that would have made Tsunade proud. "Got that right," she said, as the alcohol's sting seemed to warm her blood. "I was just hoping to be a bit better off than most."

Ino took the liberty of refilling her friend's cup, "Well, regardless of whether or not Gin-san's story is true, I owe him."

"Oh?"

Sakura's friend merely held her cup in the air. "A toast," she said, smiling knowingly, "to Gin-san."

"For what?"

Ino giggled softly, "You've gotten denser, Forehead."

"You've become more cryptic," Sakura grumbled, finally raising her own cup.

"A toast to Gin-san," her friend repeated, "for bringing you back to Konoha."

Before Sakura could say anything more, Ino knocked their cups together and regarded her seriously, "For bringing you home."

Naruto ducked as Gin struck out with his kunai, clipping a few hairs in the process. With a subtle toss of his wrist, the shinobi flipped himself into the air and drove forward with his own weapon, aiming for the weak point at Gin's shoulder. Gin, however, was prepared and he negated the attack, driving it off course with a well-timed step to the side. Before Naruto could regain his footing, the Shinigami had danced into position, propelling himself backwards to put some distance between them.

Gin felt his breath escaping in a steady rhythm as he eyed the confident blond with a critical stare. Sweat had begun to bead its way along his forehead and he felt the slow descent of a rogue drop trickling its way towards his chin.

Naruto was difficult to read, he decided. The boy had an uncanny amount of stamina and seemed particularly unconcerned with trying to decipher Gin's tactics—not that Gin played by a particular set of rules to begin with. He rushes in like an untrained pup, but somehow knows exactly what he's doing.

Gin had years of fighting experience; he didn't doubt that he had at least a century's worth of training under his belt that Naruto didn't have, but it almost didn't seem to matter. Naruto never once doubted himself. He reminds me of Kurosaki Ichigo, Gin decided with a small amount of nostalgia. Ichigo had always seemed to swing his zanpakutou around like a wooden stick; he had—in Gin's opinion—lacked the finesse and the discipline of a swordsman, but somehow had always managed to beat his way through his enemies regardless.

Naruto knew the kunai; he knew how to use it properly—to throw, to maim, to puncture—but he didn't share a soul with it the way a Shinigami shared their lives with their swords.

But then again, Gin thought, tightening his grip on the kunai when he saw Naruto's muscles shifting, who th' hell'd wanna share anything with this crap anyway?

They rushed forward again and Gin cursed the size of his weapon. A sword—even his wakizashi—was more practical for close-range fighting, and as he struck out, aiming for the silver of Naruto's forehead protector, he started to formulate a plan.

Counting in his head, he waited for Naruto to begin his defensive attack. As predicted, the blond used his own kunai to deflect it, driving Gin's kunai towards the left.

The Shinigami smirked with satisfaction as he felt his arm drifting in the direction in which his opponent had repelled it. Quickly, Gin flipped the kunai backwards, running it along the bones of his knuckles, and spun it into his index finger until it changed directions, facing sideways instead. He then forced his right arm to move, grimacing as it seemed to creak beneath his flesh in protestation.

The movement caught Naruto's eye and he shifted his attention to Gin's folded right fist, twisting in preparation for a punch.

But Gin surprised him, halting his arm halfway, and instead shifted his weight to the left, driving the almost forgotten kunai forward towards his opponent's throat.

Naruto's eyes widened as the kunai pierced his flesh.

And then disappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving only a log in his stead.

Gin frowned in confusion, allowing his eyes to dart from side to side as he stopped moving all together. He felt the steadiness of the breeze and memorized it, waiting for it to waver.

A rush of air above his right shoulder gave him enough forewarning to dart sideways as the shadow of Naruto's kunai struck his former position. It pierced the earth with a hard thud as Gin landed lightly on one knee some distance away. He narrowed his eyes, searching the air for his opponent. Within two beats of his heart, he was forced to spin onto his foot, momentarily resting his balance in the air until his kunai met the solid edge of Naruto's which had been previously aimed for his back.

The two opponents locked eyes, their focus almost outside the realm of Konoha. They were no longer fighting in the meadow beneath the pastels of dusk. They were on the battlefield in their minds, acting and reacting on instinct alone, living and breathing in a realm that had no life and death—only the silent conversation between two men whose hearts beat with every blow.

Naruto flipped backwards, using a handspring to add power, and focused on Gin from the air. His opponent was now semi-crouching, kunai resting protectively in front of him as he seemed to take in the whole of Naruto's movements in one quick glance. It was discerning, the way that Gin stared and smiled. The way his eyes lit with a fire that had seen years of blood and betrayal.

It was a stare much like Sasuke's, Naruto thought momentarily. Apathy and revenge. One driven by power and secrets.

Who is this man?

Gin pitched the kunai into the air, hoping to drive Naruto to the ground, and started forward, focusing all the energy into his feet as if using Shunpo. Something answered from within, he realized after the first step; the ground was moving much faster than he expected when he moved lightly behind Naruto in time to catch his weapon. The rush he felt was an old feeling, ancient it seemed, as the air settled around him and time finally caught up.

Fast! Naruto thought, briefly surprised, when Gin launched himself once more at him and their weapons cried out shrilly upon impact. He's getting faster, but how?

Gin moved like a machine, accustomed to the battle-feelings, the empowerment that came with restrained control over a ferocious desire. He had survived years this way, by being careful, by scheming a large scheme without actually overseeing the details. One goal. It was all he had ever needed and he had seen it to the end.

The weapon was an extension of himself—Shinsou or not—and he fed it his energy, his fighting spirit, as if gifting it with his soul. He could hear it crying in its own voice, even if it didn't have concrete words, and he couldn't help but answer. It drove him on, pushed him past his limits, demanding everything that he was. Duel or not, he would win. He had to win.

Naruto blocked his next attack too, but Gin was driving the young shinobi backwards. The confident smile of his opponent had been replaced with concentration. Naruto lashed out at an angle, hoping to catch Gin in a blind spot, but the Shinigami countered the attack without even looking at it.

Amazing! He doesn't actually rely on sight. Naruto admired as Gin blocked a follow-up attack and switched to the offensive. Then I wonder…

The blond skipped forward, leaping above Gin to get away. Quickly he formed the familiar hand seal, focusing his chakra, and before his opponent could cut him off, shouted quickly: "Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!"

Gin came to a rough halt as three replicas of Naruto poofed into existence, armed and ready to fight.

Kage-no-wha'?

"That's cheatin'," the former Shinigami complained lightly.

One of the Naruto's laughed, "Shinobi have no rules!"

"I ain't a shinobi," Gin reminded him, crouching once again, but his own smile had yet to disappear.

The Narutos charged, dividing their approach from four separate paths. Gin decided to maintain a steady distance, knowing that fighting all four with one arm would be a difficult task. He skipped backwards a few steps as their speed increased, but still the distance between them rapidly closed. The first one struck and Gin used his strength to push the clone back, hoping to throw it off balance, but before he could follow through, the next one was aiming for his ribs, forcing the Shinigami to block and allowing the other Naruto to duck to safety. The third one was at his back and Gin could feel the air behind him almost evaporate as it gave way to the kunai in the clone's hand. Without thinking, Gin tossed his own weapon to his right hand, using his good arm to strike the attacking Naruto's shoulder and redirect his projected aim.

The next one, however, was attacking once again from the front and Gin barely managed to raise his kunai in time to avert the attack. He inhaled sharply as his arm went rigid with pain. Move! he thought almost desperately. Move, damn it!

It took the last of its strength to ward off the blow and Gin watched helplessly as his hand involuntarily dropped the kunai.

Cursing silently, Gin jumped from out of the cluster of Narutos, leaving his weapon behind. They followed him ruthlessly, but he kept moving, hopping into the trees of the nearby forest. The pain in his arm hadn't subsided and he could only imagine the lashing Sakura would give him when she found out he'd pushed it too far.

Guess I've got bigger problems for now, he rationalized. He could still feel the four Narutos giving chase and without the kunai he was defenseless. I've gotta find a weapon.

He reached instinctively for the hilt of Shinsou, frowning as his hand met nothing but air. Damn that good for nothin'…

But his thoughts were interrupted as he emerged into another clearing. Without the trees providing shelter, he was an open target.

Not wanting to give Naruto the advantage of a direct approach, Gin backtracked and dashed back into the forest. He tried to remember the feel of the chakra he had summoned that night when demonstrating for Sakura. What had he learned? The feel of it. The sound of it. The way it seemed, in some way, as melded with him as Shinsou had been. Yes, he had been able to summon it, to wield it fleetingly like a well-trained shinobi. Since that night, however, he hadn't tried to do it again.

There was so much more to this life force, he knew, he just didn't know what.

That's why I wanted t' fight this kid, he reminded himself, slowing down once he sensed that he would soon be upon his foes.

He concentrated on pushing his chakra towards his hand. If he focused hard enough, Gin could feel it within him; he'd become more accustomed to the feel of it since awakening on the forest floor. There he had felt distanced and deaf—an outsider—but now he could sense chakra in a way he had yet to sense it before. In his desperation, Gin felt it more like a pulse, racing and coursing through his veins, bleeding like an intoxicating brand of alcohol.

The first Naruto came into sight. He ain't playin' fair anyway, Gin thought without an ounce of hesitation as his hand began to exude a low sizzling sound. With a bit of extra force, he pushed himself from a tree limb, enhancing his speed, until he was a mere breath from colliding with Naruto's kunai. At the last second, Gin lifted his hand, ducking under his opponent's weapon, and struck out with all the power he could muster. The blow smacked a surprised Naruto in the stomach, where the former sizzling of Gin's hand transformed a low discordant whine.

Naruto grabbed his stomach, his face contorted in pain, and fell to the ground with a hard thud. Within seconds he disappeared.

One down, Gin thought with satisfaction.

But he couldn't gloat long. Two more Naruto's hurled themselves from the shadows of the trees and immediately engaged him in battle. This time, however, they watched his fist, dodging quickly when the need arose, only to advance from a different angle after they had evaded Gin's blows.

How d' they know already? Gin wondered; he was sure they hadn't seen his technique. Did he gather information from th' clone when it died?

One of the Naruto's shoved his kunai forward, causing Gin to jump back to avoid the strike, however, before he could maneuver his way to a more advantageous position, he was intercepted by the thick bark of a tree. As the second one approached from the side, Gin was forced to evacuate; he leapt towards the forest floor and sprinted through the brush upon landing.

The thorns of vines ripped at his skin, but Gin couldn't feel it. His body was nearly shaking with adrenaline, drunk on the rush of energy that he had not felt in years. Fighting Aizen had been a rush, sure, but it had been completely different. It had been life or death. Failure or success.

This… well, this was just fun.

At the base of a relatively thick tree, Gin paused briefly, glancing over his shoulder to see if the coast was clear. He couldn't see any trace of Naruto, but he didn't allow himself to relax. One wrong move, one false moment of security. That would be all it took to end of the fight.

The slight whistle of a falling object was the only thing to alert him to the incoming attack from above. He jumped from his cover as Naruto's impact sent the soft soil raining in all directions; the nearby trees quaked at the sudden disturbance, showering them with fresh leaves.

Gin knew that he was losing his opportunities; the longer the battle continued, the weaker he grew from fatigue. His most recent bout with death had been a taxing ordeal—and the switching of worlds hadn't been exactly a refreshing experience either.

As the three remaining Narutos regrouped, Gin tried to concoct a plan. In Soul Society, this had never posed a problem; he'd simply made things up as he went along, using his reiatsu like a third hand. He hadn't had to concentrate on summoning it; he hadn't had to discuss with his sword how best to go about the situation. He had simply done what he'd always done—left his enemies guessing until he could find a weakness and then crushed them.

Gin didn't doubt that the same scenario could come in handy again, but in this particular dual, things weren't panning out in the same fashion. After all, it wasn't another Shinigami he was fighting; it wasn't a Hollow either.

I'm fightin' a human—a ninja.

A human with enough power to overcome him.

Gin liked to play the fool, but it didn't mean he was one. Naruto could have probably killed him ten times over with chakra—had he chosen to really use it. Playing around with the kunai and fighting multiple Narutos—even the escape technique he'd used earlier—did not qualify as a high-end battle. Even with the poisoned chakra, Gin still new he was lacking both techniques and control.

He was backed against another tree, trying to break through the defense of a bunshin—or what he assumed was a bunshin. Gin flipped forward, trying to get behind it, but the clone suddenly grabbed his good arm in mid-air and twisted him back, forcing him to yield. The Shiniami was on the verge of using his right arm—despite his injury—to break away, when he heard a rather disturbing and sinister sound from his left. Glancing over, he saw that his opponent—the real one, he figured—was racing at him, a ball of brightly swirling blue chakra summoned in his hand.

That doesn't look good…

Gin instinctively dropped lower, disrupting the clone's center of gravity so that he could gather enough power to smash him against a tree trunk. The bunshin yelped in pain, but Gin didn't have time to see if he'd officially rid himself of it. Now that he was free, he dashed onto a higher branch, knowing that the real Naruto would chase him. As Naruto leapt up, Gin used the strength of his uninjured arm to swing underneath the branch, supporting himself with his hand as he hung in the air. Before the blond could change directions, Gin spun himself back up, leaning against the tree trunk as he breathed deeply.

The blue ball had faded from Naruto's hand in the intermittent time and he too landed on the branch, gracing Gin with one of his goofy grins while the last of his clones popped out of existence.

"You're pretty good at taijutsu," Naruto commended. "You barely used your chakra."

"I ain't all that familiar with chakra," Gin admitted. "Can't make th' clones like you did."

"When I was in the Ninja Academy, I couldn't even do a normal bunshin," the shinobi said with a slight grimace. "If you train, you could learn all of it. Although it seems you do know more than you claim."

"Th' poison?" Gin guessed.

Naruto nodded, his interest piqued, "I've never seen a poison technique before."

"I didn't know I could do it 'til a few days ago."

"What! No way!"

Gin glanced away, noting that the sun had completely set, "I told ya already. I ain't a shinobi."

"Yeah, but…" Naruto paused and regarded Gin more thoroughly. "Do you think you'll become one now?"

"What for?" the Shinigami scoffed. "I just wanna learn how to use chakra. If I'm gonna be stuck here, then I might as well be good at it."

For a moment, the blond seemed a bit perplexed; perhaps he had never imagined a day that he wouldn't be a shinobi. "Well," he said finally, "I'll always spar with you if you need to practice."

"Of course," Gin agreed, though his smile didn't reach his eyes.

Naruto sighed tiredly, collapsing onto the branch, "Man, I'm exhausted. The old lady keeps me out on missions all the time now."

Gin didn't know who the 'old lady' was or what 'missions' were, but he didn't feel like listening to the explanations. Considering the course of recent events, he figured he would find out soon enough—whether he wanted to or not. Instead, he focused his attention on other things, reviewing the battle in his mind as he attempted to piece together what he had seen while fighting with Naruto. Hand signs were important, he deduced, in that they seemed to signify which technique would be used. However, some techniques didn't require seals—like Sakura's healing or even his own.

"What was th' blue ball of—" Gin paused, pondering. "I'll presume it was some kinda chakra?"

"Rasengan," the shinobi replied proudly. "My father's legacy."

"How does it work?"

"Well—uhh—I'm not so good at technical things," Naruto grinned, sheepishly rubbing a hand through his hair. "Depending on which Rasengan I'm using, I have either one or two clones who help balance out the power and rotation. I dunno how to explain it really, I'd have to show you."

Gin quirked a brow, his eyes spreading into thin lines, "It doesn't require the hand seals?"

The blond nodded, "Nope. It was designed to be used quickly, so that the seals wouldn't be needed."

There were a million other questions that Gin could have asked at that moment, but his thoughts were interrupted when Naruto's stomach rumbled like distant thunder, "Damn I'm starving. Do you want to get ramen?"

"Didn't ya just eat ramen?"

But Naruto was no longer listening. He had already stood in preparation to leave, beckoning for Gin to follow.

The Shinigami shook his head, "I ain't really a fan of ramen. You go ahead."

"C'mon," Naruto begged, "it'll be better than going back to Sakura's house. Do you even know where it is?"

"Nope."

"I can show you," he offered.

"Gimme a second then," Gin acquiesced. "I've gotta find the kunai I dropped. I'll meet ya back at the memorial stone."

"Okay!" Naruto replied, forming another specific set of seals while Gin watched carefully, memorizing them. "See ya there then."

Then the shinobi disappeared in a swirl of leaves.

When Gin found the KIA stone, the moon was looming overhead and a thick breeze wafted through the forest clearing, rattling the leaves. Glancing up towards the sky, he allowed his gaze to linger on the stars and wondered briefly if Soul Society was somewhere beyond the blackness.

"Took you long enough," Naruto complained from his reclined position on the ground. "I was beginning to think you were lost."

He hadn't been in a particular hurry after Naruto's departure, so he had simply wandered, slowly making his way back to his original starting point—even after he'd found the kunai. He had wanted to think, to put together the puzzle of chakra. His brain had always worked that way—playing around with the things he saw until they all just clicked.

"Sorry," Gin lied. "I was thinkin'."

He came to stand in front of the stone, glancing casually at it as if it held no interest for him. After all, what answers would come from a bunch of dead ninjas' names?

However, despite his flippant attitude, Gin was actually reading the list. He recalled the way Naruto had been staring at it that afternoon, his hand resting on a particular name. Though Gin didn't typically involve himself in other peoples' problems, a rather peculiar intrigue had seized him.

He had inferred from their encounter at the ramen restaurant that Sakura and Naruto shared a common loss, though both of them were decidedly tight-lipped about it. Normally that wouldn't have bothered him, but Gin wanted to know a bit more of just what had happened in the shinobi world to create a rift that had brought him there in the first place. Certainly it couldn't have just been a fluke—that strange hollow or his own existence—to have somehow escaped death.

He didn't know how or what had caused a temporary binding of two worlds—or created a gateway—but Gin couldn't imagine that Aizen was the only underlying factor.

Despite all of Aizen's careful plotting, his ingenious plans, Gin had always been a wildcard.

And Aizen hadn't known that this world existed.

Gin's eyes narrowed. He remembered the previous shadows gracing the surface of the now moonlit stone—the way they had danced over it. He remembered the faraway look in Naruto's eyes before he had finally noticed his presence.

And there, as the moon lit the memorial in a halo of silver light, Gin felt the gears turning in his mind. He felt the hairs on his neck stand in warning as he unconsciously clutched the kunai tighter in his hand. Because something in that name spoke volumes, something cautioned him—and he didn't know what.

That name:

Uchiha Sasuke.

It was dangerous, he sensed. Tainted. Lost.

Like him.

And Gin knew, deep down, that he would see that name again.

Though he secretly hoped that it wouldn't be any time soon.

End Note: Battles are never easy to write, no matter how simple. Though this wasn't a particularly difficult duel, I wanted to give you guys a bit of a taste of Gin's prowess as a potential shinobi (even if he himself doesn't think it's such a good idea). Please take the time to let me know what you think.