Kakashi allowed himself a wry, dread-filled grimace as he chanced a glance down between his loosely hanging legs. He wasn't sure what made him more uncomfortable-the fact that he was currently in the process of climbing the outside of a three-story ferry ship without chakra, or that the waistband of his pants was doing it's darndest to acquaint itself with his thighs.
This may not have been one of my better ideas...
Gritting his teeth, the Copy-ninja ignored the ear-grating noise of the incredulous, entertained crowd behind him. He steadily pulled himself up the slippery surface of the ship, hissing in pain whenever he was forced to make an impromptu grab at the thin ledge of a window or the sharp cutting steel of a grate with his broken fingers.
His lips pursed as the thin whirring sound of yet another jet-ski reached his ears. That was number six... seven? The sound spurred him to quicken his pace. Both gloved hands and sandaled feet scrabbled against the slick porcelain-white surface of the ship as he quickened his ascent.
In his haste he put too much weight on his crippled hand and, at the last second, had to catch himself with his other one. His sandaled feet slid from their perch and his legs swung wildly out over the churning water. His pants lurched to his knees.
... Damn.
Kakashi grimaced. Being a naturally proud creature, it always took a staggered moment for the Copy-ninja to fully appreciate the gravity of such embarrassment. Regardless of general supposition and public opinion, he actually was just as susceptible to the full spectrum of human emotion as any other warm-blooded, food-processing primate. The fact that he had made a habit of publicly parading his devotion to smutty romance novels up and down Konoha's child-riddled streets did not fully negate his ability to experience feelings like shame or timidity.
Hence one of the Copy-ninja's many reasons for donning his characteristic mask. Kakashi was actually quite partial to his face's trademark layer of thin, comfortable badass motherfuckerness because it covered up any fleeting expressions of insecurity, self-doubt, or shyness... Not that he ever really felt that... way...
Was that flickering flash of bright light over his shoulder someone's camera?
I'm starting to think, Kakashi mused with a mildly horrified sense of detachment, that this compulsive need I have to destroy whatever scrap of dignity I've managed to salvage over the years might indicate some inherent fundamental flaw in my character design. Shrieks of giggled laughter echoed loudly behind him. Could be that I'm just a really good-hearted, altruistic person?... he tried to console himself.
A loud wolf-whistle pierced the air.
Nope, Kakashi's head fell, I'm a closet masochist.
With a final heave of his burning shoulders, the Copy-ninja pulled himself up and over the cold metal rail lining the balcony of the uppermost story.
Startled gasps and squeals of surprise greeted him. His legs, being thoroughly tangled in his mutinous pants, tripped him up and Kakashi found himself tumbling gracefully over the rail and right onto an inconveniently placed dining table. Crystalline fragments of shattered glass and sparkling champagne sprayed everywhere in a glistening rainbow of cresting droplets and tinkling shards as he rolled to the floor. The thin material of the white table-cloth fluttered over his crumpled form anti-climatically.
"Dear God!" a tall man dressed in a trim black suit blustered in shock, his acne-pocked cheeks flushing furiously beneath a hedge-like mustache. A middle-aged woman, whose lavish dinner Kakashi was now wearing as a impromptu tie of sorts, shrieked in indignation. Kakashi quickly floundered into a vertical position, tugging frantically at his rebellious pants. She scrambled over the back of her chair.
"Ah..." he started awkwardly, feeling all of the ship's crew and passengers staring at him, "Excuse me." his visible eye creased at the woman's heated expression of outrage.
"Oi!" the gruff voice of a shocked guard interrupted the uncomfortable exchange, "What's the ruckus?"
"Mah, I think she needs a refund." Kakashi supplied, glancing up at the guard blandly as he pointed a food-encrusted finger towards the woman. She blinked, her disturbed expression slipping into one of flattered surprise.
"-Oh!" the woman spoke quickly, "Why thank you!"
"Oh!" Kakashi mimicked reflexively, "You're wel-"
"Alright, now what in the world is going on here?" the Copy-ninja looked over, sweat-dropping as the head of security approached the scene.
"That man just-"
Kakashi took off running before he could hear the rest of the guard's befuddled explanation, the words whistling away with the wind rushing by his still-pink ears.
He didn't know how many more jet-skis were going to come by and he had wasted more than enough time already. Standing around and trying to explain why he had just wriggled around in some rich lady's dinner with his pants around his ankles was completely detrimental to the mission after all... Not to mention a little awkward.
Yup, Kakashi grimaced, Definitely going to have to be very particular about word choice when I write out the mission report for this one. He quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused all of his energy on speed.
If he could just make it to the front of the ship before all the jet-skis passed by, then he could execute his plan and, hopefully, catch up to his team. Kakashi sprinted down the straight aisle between two rows of tables, steadily gaining momentum.
"Hey, stop there!" Heavy booted footsteps thudded belatedly after him.
A weary-looking busboy carelessly swung his cart out into the middle of the aisle before him. Without breaking stride, Kakashi hurtled over the towering plates and dishes, his wiry musculature folding into a striking pose of controlled swiftness as he sailed through the air, an inch from the boy's nose. A startled expression sluggishly lifted the busboy's acne-pocked cheeks into a dazed grin.
"Woah..."
The thin buzzing whir of a far-off approaching jet-ski vibrated in Kakashi's ears. He leaned further onto the tips of his toes.
"Stop!"
An oblivious waitress pivoted slowly before him, unknowingly stepping backwards into his path. She gasped when he smashed into her, heavy tray and all of it's contents flipping wildly through the air. Kakashi just barely managed to catch her around the waist before she could fall. In a split second he had lifted her off her feet, spun them both in a stumbled pirouette, and flung her neatly into the lap of a pleasantly surprised old man.
All in all, he felt that it would have been more charming and gallant if his pants hadn't been crawling off his ass.
"Stop running!"
Kakashi struggled to regain his balance. Ducking into a half-planned roll, he came up again sprinting. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the thin white wake of an approaching jet-ski flitting closer over the dark surface of the river. He exhaled all of the air in his lungs sharply and pumped his arms harder, urging himself to go even faster. Everything depended on his timing, any chance he had of catching up to his team rested on this very moment. He neared the end of the aisle.
As he dived over the rail lining the nose of the ship, the lurching sensation of plummeting headfirst down three stories to the seemingly hard and flat surface of the slate gray river below sent his senses spiraling into hyperactive awareness. Every millimeter of his being was thrumming, electric energy whizzing underneath thin, pale skin through a maze-work of veins pulsing with the throbbing beat of his accelerated heart. He was keenly aware of the cool, damp lick of the air whistling through his silver strands, the dry rustling of fabric fluttering in his ears as the river rushed up to meet him.
His brain had just enough time to process three thoughts as time warped and condensed around him.
His timing was a tad too perfect.
He really should invest in a belt.
And, closet masochist or not...
-This was gonna fucking hurt.
Splitting pain and white-hot agony.
For years to come, residents of the riverside shanty town would entertain themselves during poorly-cooked dinners and stuffy holiday parties by telling the tale of the white-haired young man who had demolished a nearby pub, drowned an old lady, dived off the front of an enormous ferry-boat, and set fire to six jet-skis-all for the purpose of hunting down various articles of clothing that seemed to habitually disappear from his person throughout the course of the story. A real crowd pleaser, it was filled with riveting action sequences, saucy situations, and witty dialogue. The tale ended on a decidedly ominous note, with the warning that a naked young man would appear out of thin air and cause one to spontaneously-combust if one did not do as they were told.
...
To this day there remains a curious number of young girls in the riverside shanty town that habitually neglect all of their household chores every Tuesday.
"The fuck?" the man's high-pitched shriek was muffled by three shades of fury and the thick padding of his red racing helmet, "What you doing, exploding my jet-ski like that?"
"Ahh..." Kakashi gurgled weakly in response, his reeling head ducking briefly back under the water. He was finding it rather difficult to maintain his suave, quick-witted persona in light of the complicated task of treading water with a shattered elbow, three broken ribs, and a possible concussion. Why was he wet again?
"The hell man." the red-garbed man groaned, raising a gloved hand to his helmet in a gesture of profound disbelief, "The hell you thinking?"
"I... saw a penny..."
"The fuck?" the man squeaked, splashing a small wave of water over the jounin's dazed face as he brought his fist down sharply, "You tryin' to tell me you-"
"Hey, are you guys okay?" a man riding a purple jet-ski puttered worriedly to a stop near them, his head tilted in a perplexed fashion, "What in the world happened?"
"This crazy mother-licker here just jumped off the front of that ferry there and he-he freaking dive-bombed my jet-ski, that's what happened! It flipped outta control and I fell off it and it fucking exploded against that part of the pier!" He brandished an accusing finger towards a charred section of the pier, surrounded by a gaggle of gawping, open-mouthed citizens.
"Oh," the muffled voice sounded vaguely astonished, "Now, why would you do something like that?" the purple-suited man shook his helmeted head minutely, leaning back on his seat in shock as he stared at the bedraggled jounin.
"Nuhhh," the Copy-ninja explained somewhat deliriously, "Are you... purple?"
"Oh dear, this doesn't look very good." the man's voice had an unusually cheery lilt to it as he idly scratched his purple helmet, "I guess I'd better give you both a ride to shore then!"
Kakashi groaned as the jet-ski racer opposite him grumbled darkly under his breath and tugged him, none to gently, over one of his red-suited shoulders. He blinked blearily, trying to see through the somewhat blindingly bright haze that was blotting out his vision. There was something he needed to do... But what?
"Ay, don't get too comfortable." the red racer growled menacingly as the Copy-ninja's squished cheek slid squeakily down the back of his shiny helmet.
"Hnuh-kay?"
Another jet-ski zipped by them as he was handed off, none to gently, to the purple-garbed man. Eight... Kakashi groaned as was pulled onto the parked jet-ski. They rocked in the passing jet-ski's wake, the gentle lurching motion sending his liquefied insides sloshing against his broken ribs sickeningly. Kakashi's eyes snapped open.
Eight! That was the eight jet-ski to pass by!
"Woah, woah! Steady there!" the man exclaimed as the jounin started struggling frantically in his arms, "What are you doing?"
Kakashi swung his good arm and caught the purple-garbed man under the chin with a stinging karate-chop. In one smooth, controlled movement he yanked the rubber bracelet linked with the ignition key off the man's wrist and kicked him bodily into the water. Sliding into the seat, he jammed the key into the ignition and twisted. A loud roar rumbled through the machine, overshadowing the startled shouts of the two jet-ski racers as they splashed on either side of him. Sai's white ink-beast flapped by overhead at that moment, heading in a straight path down the pier towards Naruto and Sakura.
Kakashi gunned the motor.
Why do I feel like Team Seven played musical chairs and I ended up in Naruto's seat? Sakura groaned mentally as she grappled to get a grip on Izanami's wildly flopping hands. The aristocratic woman's heavily made-up face was contorted in an almost comical expression of bug-eyed terror and vein-popping outrage over the shoulder of her captor.
"Save me already, you idiot!" Izanami's shrill shriek rattled her eardrums as the captive woman sailed over the medic's head. Sakura ran up the wall of a small shop and kicked down hard, launching herself over the gaping faces of random citizens strolling on the pier, and reached for the daimyo's wife. Her fingertips brushed slippery silk.
The River Country's matriarch howled when she was caught neatly in the burly arms of yet another nuke-nin. He took two steps down the pier and then, swerving so suddenly he nearly fell off the edge, handed her off to a skinny rogue ninja springing out of the water. The wet nuke-nin sped by Sakura and leap-frogged up onto the rooftops.
"Uahh!" Sakura roared in frustration, punching the burly-armed nuke-nin in the jaw with enough force to shatter the vertebrae in his spine. Where's some shadow clones when you need them?
This stilted game of monkey in the middle was unbearably frustrating. But it was slowly but surely coming to an end... unlike Sakura's patience, which had succumbed to the licking flames of fury some time ago.
Not long into the chase, the medic had realized that pure, chakra-enhanced speed simply would not cut it when one's target was being tossed rapidly between the arms of seemingly innumerable rogue ninja that had just as much chakra-enhanced speed as she did. So, she opted for the simple solution of utterly destroying every single person whose hands came into contact with her charge. Taking some numbers out of the equation, so to speak.
But, no matter how many skulls she crushed or necks she throttled, she was, in the end, no closer to rescuing Izanami than before. The sheer frustration of it could've boiled her.
And where was the rest of her team? Did they not notice the ear-rattling collapse of the restaurant building around them after she punched a rogue-nin shaped hole through the wall of the bathroom? Or maybe her boys were mentally deranged enough to think that it was completely normal for her to knock down buildings? Honestly, it was like they didn't know her at all.
She had been shocked, to say the least, when she had skipped into the little girls room-only to be jarred by the sight of a handful of gristly, muscular men hustling in through the door connecting the women's restroom to the outside. Things had gotten even more uncomfortable when they had pocketed the small hand-held seashell-shaped soaps sitting on the sinks. Then they had assaulted the daimyo's wife.
Now here she was, chasing after a woman she loathed with no sight of her block-headed teammates, her frayed nerves sparking hot with rage and her fragile grip on sanity slipping. She was literally going to kick each of those dumb boys in the buttocks so hard that they would have to replace their shinobi rears with heavy, metal, robot block-butts!
"Hey! Sakura-chan!" dumb boy number one chirped brightly as he kicked off the shoulders of a shadow-clone and propelled himself closer to her, "What's going on?" Izanami screeched loudly as she was tossed in the air right over their heads.
Clueless.
Ignoring the sudden stab of pain that Naruto's stupidity caused her, Sakura just snarled.
"Get Izanami!"
But, before either of them could attempt to do so, a speedboat swerved up alongside the pier and, with a tremendous squawk, Izanami was tossed in. She tumbled off the backseat and rolled to the floor as it sped away. Sakura and Naruto leapt after the bobbing speedboat onto the dark surface of the river. They sprinted in tandem, gliding over the choppy grey waves as they strained to catch the boat before it could reach a speed where it could outstrip them. Sakura's lungs burned and her heart throbbed, but it was nothing akin to the pain of the frustration blistering her insides.
But, even as determination solidified within her, a cold trickle of unease slithered through her stomach. These kidnappers were unsettling in their precision.
The only other time she had encountered a group of rogue-ninja that was this organized, that had this level of nearly-telepathic harmony, was along the Fire nation's border with Grass Country. On that one mission, nearly a month and a half ago, their carefully constructed teams had lost control over the situation a total of two times. Something that was unheard of for the successful Team Seven. And, on top of the unthinkable catastrophe of their mission spiraling out of control, her shallow perception of her former sensei had been brutally shattered.
Sakura struggled fiercely through the white froth of the speedboat's wake, Naruto straining eagerly at her side. But, even as she pushed her body to the height of physical exertion, she was unable to shake the worried thoughts that had suddenly taken root in her mind.
Ever since that one mission, after she'd seen Kakashi wracked with seizures and gasping with pain, Sakura hadn't known exactly what to think of the Copy-ninja.
Part of her wanted to simply brush it off and forget about it, forget that heart-breaking helplessness and vulnerability she had seen in him. It should be an easy enough thing to do. After all, hadn't she ignored, with a nearly unconscious forcefulness, all other indications that the man was really human for as long as she'd known him? The weary slump of his shoulders, the hours he spent staring longingly at the memorial stone, his inability to so much as let anyone to touch him in even the most casual of ways... she had left these unacknowledged and shunned to the back of her mind, simply for the sake of her own mental comfort.
But, hadn't she long grown out of that small, foolish little girl persona? Wasn't she stronger now? Smarter, more responsible? She no longer had to hide from the sad things of life, things that she didn't fully understand. She was too old for that. Somewhere along the way she had fallen into the habit of thinking of the Copy-ninja as something inexhaustible, an infinite resource of loving support and selfless power. Inhuman.
As she raced after the retreating vessel, her muscles burning, Sakura felt something resolve and harden within her. She already knew herself to be a compassionate medic, a loyal teammate, and a powerful shinobi. But, what she had failed to do, what everyone else had somehow failed to do, was be a friend to the man who had strengthened, protected, and been there for her since childhood. She would go much farther than just saying "thank you" whenever he showed up and saved the day, as if it was to be expected of him, as if it were his daily duty to risk his well-being for theirs. Sakura decided, quite unexpectedly, that she would try to get to know her former-sensei and be a real friend to him.
She would embrace any weaknesses or flaws he may accidentally unmask, instead of ignoring or laughing them away. She would somehow, through her actions, let him know that her admiration and respect for him would never waver, and that nothing he felt or did would change that. The decision was, altogether, a little spontaneous and bordering on the edge of profound. It gave Sakura a strangely buoyant feeling.
Although, she sighed mentally, now would certainly be a good time for Kakashi-sensei to act out the never-failing, unstoppable character he seems to love so much.
"Yo."
Kakashi flashed a jaunty salute as he whizzed by them on a blur of roaring purple.
Sakura did not miss the irony of the situation.
Kakashi took in a deep, steadying breath through his nose, contracting his core against the overwhelming feeling of vertigo that threatened to overthrow his balance, and shakily rose into a standing position on the speeding jet-ski. With his knees half-bent, absorbing the minuscule lurches and judders of the bobbing vehicle beneath him, he slowly leaned forwards until his chest was almost pressing against the handle. His left arm hung limply at his side and the soft sensation of the cool, salty air slipping through his thin gloved fingers was at contrast with the searing throb of his shattered elbow. His wild grey hair was buffeted about his face with the force of the wind, thin silver strands whipping silently over his slanted hitae-ate and stinging the exposed skin around his uncovered eye.
Sai dipped briefly down behind him, fluid lines of ink rustling faintly against the rushing force of the wind as the soaring beast's wings stretched and flapped. Naruto let out a sharp shout as he leaped from the churning white surface of the river and onto the back of Sai's winged beast, discreetly letting his team captain know his new position without wasting time with an explanation. Sakura stayed silent behind him, indicating that she had decided to stay her course and cover Kakashi's back in case of a surprise attack. The Copy-ninja's lips quirked.
Team Seven really is the best when it comes to teamwork and communication.
He had doubted them from the beginning. Just like every fresh batch of academy graduates that he had been knuckled into testing over the years, Kakashi had walked into his new team with the assumption that they were just another bunch of self-absorbed, annoying, hopeless little brats... He had been right for the most part.
But those three little brats had managed to pull off one of the most rare, impressive feats in all of humanity's wide spectrum of astounding accomplishments on their very first day... they had surprised Konoha's Copy-Ninja no Kakashi.
From day one, Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke had unwittingly revealed to him their hidden potential to be great ninjas, and even greater people. He had nurtured this small, sometimes infinitesimal, kernel of embryonic skill with all of his being for as long as he had had them as his team. And, despite the minor modifications to the team roster (wherein Sasuke cruelly hacked apart the already battered remains of their pure, fragile, little hearts and shoved the mangled clumps of bleeding, mutilated flesh into Sai's delicate artist hands, which quickly proceeded to administer calculated amounts of care and affection in only the most obtuse and offensive of ways) Kakashi felt that his team had learned the lesson well.
Their teamwork was so tight, so dazzling in its harmonious perfection, that one might even think that all of the members of Team Kakashi possessed some manner of unearthly telepathic-
-a barrage of Naruto's shadow-clones suddenly rained down around Kakashi, all of them yammering and yowling in ear-splitting chorus.
Kakashi had just enough time to regain a sliver of control over his, now wildly swerving, vehicle before the shadow clones disappeared around him in rapid succession, the smoke from their collective exit blinding him temporarily.
"Eeeeyahhhhh!"
Izanami's shrill, ear-rattling shriek of terror. An uncomfortably familiar glowing blue ball of energy flying swiftly towards him through the murky smoke... These were the only two indications that the Copy-ninja had had a dangerously optimistic perception of his team, and that he was about to be reunited with all those poor souls he so frequently fretted over at that big hunk of polished rock in the middle of Konoha's revered memorial grounds.
"Raaaseeengaaan!"
Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he sprang off the front of his racing jet-ski and leaped for the back of the speedboat before him with all of the strength and power that comes from unbridled panic and desperation, Kakashi supposed he shouldn't have been be all that surprised.
Naruto is Konoh'as number one unpredictable ninja...
Naruto sailed neatly over the outstretched form of his sensei. Time seemed to slow down for Kakashi at that moment. All of his senses heightened to a hyper-level of almost painful awareness.
This meant that he could easily discern the sluggish transition on Naruto's whiskered face from smug confidence to an expression of slowly-budding horror, calculate the velocity of his air-borne student in concordance with that of the abandoned jet-ski behind him, and say a rueful farewell to his recently-adopted beautiful purple instrument of delight and thrill-seeking.
...
This also meant that he could feel the bone-crushing snap of his shattered elbow bending backwards and his shoulder dislocating with an overwhelming keenness when, a split-second after he wrapped his left hand around the boat's thin metal railing, the vehicle swerved sharply to the left.
Stars burst and sparked hotly behind his tightly closed eyes as pain rattled and screamed up and down his arm. His entire body stretched out with the force of the sudden, jarring turn, swinging him perpendicular to the frothy white surface of the river below. A glowing shower of flaming, white-hot metal shards peppered the air around him as Naruto's rasengan connected with the overheated engine of the purple jet-ski in a rush of searing heat.
The speedboat jerked again, this time to the right, and Kakashi was suddenly rolling and tumbling through the air helplessly. He landed on the bucking floor of the roaring speedboat with a crunch that sent his reeling mind flickering briefly back into the cool, dark recesses of unconsciousness.
"Kakashi-sensei!"
Sakura's frightened yelp jerked him harshly back into awareness, a spike of worry crunching through his chest at the uncharacteristic noise. Although the fear in her voice was not for herself, the first conclusion of his pain-muddled mind was that his student was in trouble and he needed to protect her.
Kakashi, his head and arm hanging limply, rolled into a staggered standing position, his sandaled feet stumbling over the bucking floor of the speedboat. His head spun and his lids fluttered dazedly as he struggled to get a grip on his surroundings. They were no longer traveling across the main river, having cut a diagonal line directly across the water's wide girth. They had taken an unexpected, painful turn at some point along the far bank and were now hurtling down a smaller stream that split off from the large river, racing down a steadily-narrowing trail of rushing water. Thick branches wreathed with drought-dried leaves rasped loudly on either side of the small boat as it zipped over the bucking swell of the white-tipped waves. Sai and Sakura hovered anxiously atop of Sai's uncertainly flapping ink beast, the encroaching branches on each side slowing their progress. Naruto and a horde or shadow clones sprinted through the tossing rapids some distance behind them.
"I can't drive this thing!"
Izanami's dismayed yelp effectively punctured his eardrums and shook him out of his pained stupor.
Kakashi jammed his hand into his weapon's pouch and swung his arm in front of his face in a knee-jerk, reflexive movement. The gleaming blade of a hooked dagger clashed with his kunai in a spray of bright sparks an inch from his nose. Iridescent orbs of startling hazel locked with his own through wind-blown strands of auburn hair, widening in apparent trepidation as the boy's honey-colored skin paled under a dark constellation of freckles. Kakashi paused, the unexpected youth of his opponent disarming him for a moment.
A second hooked dagger suddenly swung wildly up at him, curving towards his neck. The Copy-ninja's eyes narrowed and he shifted his stance, swinging his kunai in a controlled arc. The young man's first weapon was sent careening out into the frothy water, the second blade deflected with a ring of glancing metal. The rogue-ninja took a stuttered step back, raising his remaining dagger before his flinching face in a weak, indecisive movement. Kakashi took advantage of this apparent weakness and kicked the boy's legs out from under him, knocking him onto his back. The churning water tossed and splashed stinging droplets over them as the boat lurched. Izanami shrieked and gibbered loudly in the background, her manicured hands grappling with the wildly swerving steering wheel in a frenzied panic. Kakashi stepped down firmly on the boy's wrist, halting the wild flailing of the rogue-ninja's remaining dagger before it could hook around his hamstring.
The boat jostled and thrummed under his feet as he raised his arm to strike. The youth stared up at him, breathless with fear. Kakashi frowned, stilling. Something's off about all this...
A strong feeling of trepidation prickled through him, a cold wave of goose-bumps tingling over his skin. The Copy-ninja stood frozen, unable to move under the overwhelming sense that there was something he had missed about this situation, something very dangerous that was outside of his control.
It was this feeling, this sixth sense he had honed over his years risking his life for the sake of others, that caused him to simply let the young man under him deliver a swift, chakra-powered kick to his gut.
Kakashi crumpled to the deck.
He gasped breathlessly as white volts of electric pain snapped over his already-broken ribs in a blinding wave of agony. He fell to his knees just as a wave of flaming arrows tore through the air above him, splitting the bruised dusk sky into a glaring maze-work of orange and amber lines. If he had been standing for just one second longer, his body would now be ensconced in licking flames, run through with the splintery wood of thick, poison-slicked arrow-shafts.
Izanami's shrill screaming rang distantly in his ears. Kakashi was faintly aware of the slick surface of the boat's deck sliding wildly under him as she swerved the vehicle frantically from side to side. He struggled against the softening lines of the world, fighting to stay focused and aware even as the cool breath of unconsciousness wafted over him in a tempting wave.
But, as resolved and determined as he was, the Copy-ninja was still only human.
His dead loved one's relentless haunting, the countless hours of sleepless mourning, and his growing inability to simply eat-all of it mixed together with the crushing weight of his duty and everyone's expectations until the thick, suffocating weight of it crushed him. His body was shutting down.
He had just enough self-awareness left to feel the rib-crushing pressure of two thin arms wrapping tightly around his waist and the stomach-tossing lurch of gravity as the speedboat capsized. Then he was immersed in a world of wet, icy coldness and roaring silence.
I feel that I need to say something about the continuation of this story.
While I do plan to finish it, and I am not going on hiatus, I feel that it is unfair to my readers to be posting so irregularly and infrequently without acknowledging it. I do not know when I will post next and I am sorry for this. If I could I would be posting chapters once a week, but clearly that is just not going to happen. Sorry :P
But! I promise that I will not give up on this story until I've given it my best and it reaches an eventual conclusion! Please don't give up on me, you're reviews are a great help to me :) If there's anything that will make me work harder and faster on this story, it's hearing from you guys. It keeps my mind on the story and inspires me to write.
Also, I feel like it is necessary for me to inform anyone reading this story that, in the following chapters, you can expect to be confronted with some material that may be hard or uncomfortable to read. If you wish to continue reading then please do so with the knowledge that there most likely will be violence, physical and emotional torture, and angst. Although, that's not to say that I've completely gone to the dark-side and that there won't be any sunshine or happiness anymore :)
Anyway, please, please review! Thank you for reading!
~Minty