Prologue: Don’t Let Me Go


Kakashi Hatake sighed through the thin material of his ever-present mask, the heat from his breath making a soft cloud before his face. His body was not cold – his use of the chakra warming technique and his constant movement prevented that – and so he was somewhat surprised to find how cold the air really was. The snow crunched under his thick sandals, and the silver-haired shinobi automatically tugged his long cream-colored cloak tighter around his lean form. His single visible eye was seemingly lazy and at ease, but that was part of the jounin’s deadly charm. Enemies who were rookie enough to be ignorant of Kakashi’s reputation often thought he was not worthy of the titles bestowed upon him. Oh how quickly they learned that this was not the case.

The B-ranked mission had been pathetically easy, Kakashi mused as he made his way down the road that led back to his home village. A simple escorting mission to Sunagakure. It had taken all of five days to get there, and without any trouble along the way. Kakashi hadn’t been forced to partake in such a simple task since his chuunin days, but he assumed that the Hokage wanted to give him something to preserve his strength before another A-ranked mission. Maybe the next one would be something slightly more interesting…like retrieving valuable jewels, assassinating some evil drug lord, or spending the entire day reading his beloved Icha Icha. Hmm…that sounded interesting indeed.

The jounin stared up at the bleak gray sky, and shook his head to free his hair from the clinging snowflakes that seemed to gravitate toward Kakashi’s person. He hated snow, but at the same time he was a shinobi, and as such he was required to put personal discomfort aside in favor of being efficient. In reality, Kakashi wanted nothing more than to curl up on his lumpy couch at home and take a nap with his Icha Icha books close at hand. Honestly, winter was just a bad season to be active. He sometimes wondered how it would be to hibernate, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how lucky those hibernating animals really were.

His breath smoked up once more as a heavy lament was emitted from his lungs, and he shoved his hands deep in his pockets. His senses automatically remained on alert, but he allowed his mind to wander ever so slightly.

Kakashi didn’t know why losing teams hurt so much. He had lost Sasuke to Orochimaru, Katsumi to Ren on her journey back to the village Hidden in Whirling Tides, and Naruto to the great Toad Sage. He knew that he would see Naruto again soon, but he wasn’t sure about the other two. Ren hadn’t made it clear when she planned to return, and Katsumi seemed happy to leave the village after Sasuke left.

Oh Sasuke…

Kakashi had always known that Sasuke would fall. Perhaps he saw himself in the boy, and put his hope in the fact that maybe, just maybe, Sasuke would find something to keep him in Konoha. Kakashi had found and lost his best friend, and that motivated him to protect those precious to him and to the village. Sasuke had so much more than Kakashi had…and yet he still chose to throw it away.

It made Kakashi sadder than he could put into words.

The bonds he had made with Team 7 were dangerous, and Kakashi would probably be better without them. But he just…couldn’t find it in him to stop making connections. Maybe it was that masochistic tendency that seemed doomed to haunt Kakashi for the rest of his days. Maybe it was just a cruel, terrible twist that was a mere result of coincidence. Maybe, maybe…



”Kakashi-sensei, what are we doing today?” a much younger Naruto screamed as a greeting, too excited to dwell on the fact that the jounin was nearly two hours later than he said he would be. Katsumi and Sasuke were sitting on the wooden surface of the bridge, leaning against the bars and talking quietly. The quiet closeness that surrounded the Uchiha children never ceased to amaze Kakashi, and he let himself smile behind his mask before turning to Naruto.

“Well, the sweet old lady from the dango shop needs her cats washed, and I owe her a favor…”

Katsumi raised an eyebrow, scowling furiously, and Kakashi was struck with the painful memory – as he often was when he looked at Katsumi – of Kushina Uzumaki making that same expression at him when he accidentally walked in on her and his sensei as they became…rather involved with their training session. To say the least, Kakashi couldn’t look at either shinobi for at least a week after the incident without blushing under the safety of his mask.

“Tell me he’s joking,” Sasuke grumbled darkly, his eyes closing in exasperation. Katsumi sighed in response, putting her chin in her hands. The two Uchiha sat there, unmoving, as Naruto shrieked in indignation.

“Hold on…wait…hey…hey just wait a minute!” Naruto’s mouth turned in childish fury, and Kakashi leaned back so his lower back was supported by the railing.

“Waiting…” Kakashi said mockingly, checking his imaginary watch, and Naruto fumed as Katsumi burst out laughing. Sasuke settled for a smirk, and Naruto pointed a very calloused finger at the silver-haired man, and continued to shriek – by now, Kakashi had decided to just accept the truth that Naruto had only two volume settings: loud, and louder.

“That isn’t even a mission, you old geezer! Where’s the training in that, huh?”

Kakashi’s stare turned into a glare, and he enjoyed watching as Naruto squirmed uncomfortably. Katsumi sat up straighter, and her mouth pursed in annoyance.

“Aww, someone’s in trouble, now! Way to go Naruto…now we’re all gonna get it,” she hissed, slapping her hand to her forehead. Sasuke had decided to disengage from the conversation entirely, and was currently flicking pieces of twig into the gurgling river below them.

Kakashi nodded slowly. “For that little ‘geezer’ comment, Naruto, you get to wash Miss Bunny. The rest of us get the cute, complacent little kittens that smell like milk and sunshine.” The team then – albeit a very saddened Naruto – made their way to the woman’s house, and as they walked the streets their journey was complimented by Katsumi’s ceaseless excitement.

“Yes! I love kittens! They’re sooooo cute! Like seriously, next to puppies, kittens are the cutest thing in the entire world! With their little tails and their little pink tongues that just make you go–”

Katsumi then made a cooing sound/squeal that was so high pitched and strangled that everyone – except Sasuke, who assumedly was used to this sort of behavior – stopped to stare at her in amazement. She didn’t look perturbed, and challenged Naruto to a race. The two immediately ran off, and Sasuke turned to Kakashi, giving him his full attention at last.

“Do they even know where the house is?”

Kakashi gave Sasuke one of his devious eye-crinkle-smiles. “Nope.”

“Hn.”

“They’ll find us eventually…”



Kakashi felt his feet stop at the memory, and he spared a glance behind him. Part of him was hoping to see his three students behind him as they always were, Naruto and Katsumi laughing and running while Sasuke rolled his eyes and forced himself to keep up. The snow was falling thickly, and it made the entire road behind him look hazy and unremarkable. There was nothing but the silence, and Kakashi slowly turned to face front again.

But then, the sound of staggered running reached his keen ears, and he froze. His hand immediately clutched a kunai, and he sank into a protective crouch, listening as he peered into the cloak of falling snow. The sounds were coming closer, and Kakashi focused, discerning that there was a group of them.

Were they shinobi? The uneven steps sounded like a civilian, but Kakashi couldn’t be sure.

Just as he was about to call out, six figures burst into view, snow cloaking them like a second skin and blood soaking through the powdery-white flakes like red wine soaks through a linen tablecloth. They all had Hidden Whirpool headbands on their heads, but even so Kakashi did not let down his guard. They could be spies who had taken Whirlpool headbands to trick passing Hidden Leaf shinobi. Kakashi removed his headband to reveal the Sharingan, and relaxed slightly when it picked up no hidden genjutsu.

The leader stopped, and blinked at him with pale gray-blue eyes that were unmistakably familiar. The voice that spoke cut through him like a knife, and his defenses melted into nothing. He hadn’t heard that voice in a year and a half, and it wasn’t until that moment that he realized how much he had missed it.

“K-Kakashi? Is th-that you?” Ren Uzumaki’s voice, unusually timid and broken, spoke into the silence, and Kakashi moved forward at once. His eyes widened as he saw the injuries that were scattered across her trembling frame, and the haunted, lost look in her usually cheerful eyes. The other shinobi were shaking and groaning, and Kakashi let his gaze fall over all of them, searching for someone in particular, and he reached for Ren’s shoulders. A spark of panic began to flare in his chest as that particular person eluded his search.

“Ren…what happened?”

Ren closed her eyes, and Kakashi blinked as angry tears streamed down her cheeks, making two wet tracks through the ash and blood that coated the skin there. “The Hidden Wh-Whirlpool Village…is no more. We’re a-all that’s left. They just…killed everyone…” she croaked, and Kakashi’s shock left him temporarily unable to speak, unable to think properly.

Then he recovered.

How could that have happened? How, but more importantly…why? Kakashi had been to Whirpool Country many times, and the place was a peaceful one. The shinobi village was a powerful one, but they were structured around peace, not used to being attacked. They were always vulnerable to attack, but Kakashi had always assumed that Konohagakure would come to the village’s aid. Kakashi hadn’t heard anything concerning the Whirpool Village being attacked…how had the attack gone unnoticed?

Was the attack so strong and so sudden that no one was left to send out the call for aid?

Who could have possibly arranged that kind of army?

Kakashi looked down at Ren, and waited until she looked up at him to ask the question that was beginning to feel like more of a death sentence than an actual question. The answer was beginning to creep up on him, and Kakashi was tempted to leave it be and assume the worst. But he had to know. He had to know.

“Ren, where is Katsumi?”

Ren stared into his eyes, and Kakashi felt his anguish overflow into his throat as Ren’s face crumpled up into a pitiful expression of someone who has lost everything. Kakashi knew that expression, because it had once been his face. When he lost his father…when he lost Obito, Rin, and finally Minato-sensei. The face had softened into his current expression, but in the moment, when Kakashi lost them, that face was him.

“I tried…I tried to get h-her out, Kakashi. But sh-she told me, she kept telling me to get out…the building was burning, Kakashi! She was stuck, she couldn’t get out, I tried to help her…but the walls crumbled before I could reach…”

Kakashi felt as though his mind had disconnected from his body, and he watched as his hands slowly released Ren’s shoulders. His eyes stared off into the distance, blankly trying to compute what Ren had told him – was still telling him, even as his mind shut down.

“I-I heard her screaming…so loud…I coul-couldn’t help her! D-Dammit, oh god, oh god my little n-niece…I l-let her die, because she told me to run. W-Why did I listen, why, why why?” Ren whispered, falling to her knees and began pounding at the snow with her bruised and bloody fists. The blood left a mark on the whiteness, and Kakashi found himself staring at the bright red color.

Finally, his body kicked in and took control. Mechanically, he bit his thumb – there was no concept of pain in the action – and summoned Pakkun. After giving instructions, the dog sped off, faster than Kakashi could possibly run. Kakashi then moved to help Ren sit under a tree, and then focused his attention on the others, helping them to safety under the canopy of trees.

But his mind was a blank slate, and if one looked at his face – the shinobi were too injured and shocked to notice his expression – they would find the most saddening expression on the face of Kakashi Hatake.

He knew that Team 7 would someday face death, whether from disease, enemy intent, or old age. It was stupid to hope for old age or disease in the shinobi profession, and so Kakashi had assumed that the death would come in battle.

Naruto, Sasuke and Katsumi were each so strong that Kakashi had highly doubted they would die within the next three years. And in any case, each was guided by extremely skilled shinobi, and so that added extra protection to their cause. The jounin always hoped that out of all of them, he would be the first to go. He had had a good life, if any of them deserved it, it was him.

Why was it that logic never seemed to factor into the life of a shinobi?

Kakashi never imagined that Katsumi Uchiha – the most thoroughly protected out of the three genin of Team 7 – would be the first one to fall. Not bright, lively, spunky Katsumi. Not at fourteen years of age, not at the same age Obito Uchiha had…

But she had, and that made Kakashi want to fall to his knees and scream at the unfairness of it all.

Of course, he didn’t do that. He put on a brave face and blocked out his own sorrow, because that was what he had been trained to do from the beginning of his career. Kakashi treated the wounds with what supplies he had, and waited for the Konoha medics to arrive. When they did, he helped the best he could, and stepped back when it looked like they had it under control.

Inside, Kakashi Hatake was crying.

Because no matter how many times he had team members fall in battle, the pain never lessened. His ability to hide his feelings improved, until he was considered by most to be unaffected by the idea.

But the feeling of helplessness and quiet lament never became less suffocating.

Kakashi knew that one day, he would drown in it, and nothing would be able to save him. And deep down, part of him didn’t want to be saved. At least then, he would have some sort of release.

Then, finally, he would find some sort of happiness.

Chapter 1: Home

Fifteen-year-old Sakura Haruno wandered the streets, her white medic-skirt swaying in time with her hips as she walked. Hair the color of cherry blossom petals was loosely tied back into a braid that hung down to the small of her back. The air was suddenly thick with the spicy tang of ramen, and Sakura glanced up to see that her feet had led her to Ichiraku’s. The teenager frowned, and folded her arms across her stomach, staring with sad eyes at the lack of a familiar blonde. It had been nearly two years since he left, and Sakura couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous for the day that he did return.

It had been exactly one year since Kakashi came back with the last survivors of the Uzumaki Clan. It had been twelve months since Asuma had met Sakura at her apartment – she lived on her own, as she had ever since that black-terrible-crying day – with an uncustomary darkness to his visage.

It had been three-hundred and sixty-five days ago that Sakura had learned of Katsumi Uchiha’s death.

Sakura turned away from the ramen shop, ignoring the puzzled frown that crossed the owner’s face at seeing her expression. The sun burned down, and the medic lifted her face upwards, closing her eyes and letting the heat seep into the skin on her face. But no matter how she tried to let the hotness burn away her pain, it remained, even more prominent than before, as if it sensed her desire to forget.

Katsumi was Naruto’s teammate, one of his best friends. He had already lost Sasuke, and now…

Sakura wanted to cry at the blatant unfairness of it all.

Now that the girl was thinking of Naruto – she had schooled herself to push aside thoughts of him, in order to remain focused on the tasks at hand – she found that she couldn’t stop. Sakura missed him. She missed his smiles, his jokes that weren’t remotely funny. But most of all, she missed him. It wasn’t something that she could put into words, it was just…Naruto!

Even thinking the name sent whirls of loneliness rushing through her, and she shook her head angrily. Sakura couldn’t let herself become dependent on others, wasn’t that the reason she joined the medic training program after Naruto left?

Her lips turned upwards slightly at the memory. The chakra-control tests had been alarmingly simple, or at least, Sakura thought so. It had gotten to the point where Sakura had outright asked the examiners if they had a more advanced group she could switch to. That was when the Hokage was called in, and it was then that thirteen-year-old Sakura was informed that she had been taking – and passing, with flying colors – jounin-level chakra control exercises.

“Why do you want to become a medic-nin? Your chakra control is exceptional for someone your age, but your physical strength leaves a hell of a lot to be desired. That – and stamina – is one of the key aspects of being a medic…” Tsunade muttered, sipping at her tea, golden-brown eyes scanning Sakura’s shinobi stats as she did so.

Sakura stood, fingers fiddling with each other, her resolve threatening to splinter at the edges when butting up against this woman’s intimidating presence. The Hokage was the epitome of calm, and Sakura tried hard to find some measure of confidence. It was hard. Who was Sakura, with her bulging forehead and numerous split-ends, to even try and stand up to this effortlessly powerful and beautiful kuniochi?

Tsunade glanced up after a moment’s pause, arching her eyebrow in silent expectation. “Well?” she demanded, placing the tan file down on her desk, right beside the plum-patterned teacup.

“I…I…I want to be a medic-nin because I’m tired of being useless.”

The line that had sounded so heart-warming and brave in Sakura’s head came out so very differently. Now, hearing herself say the words, Sakura was struck with a jarring shame. It sounded so pitiful, so weak and pathetic. Tsunade must have thought so too, because she scoffed rudely.

“Obviously, you don’t know what being a medic-nin entails. You think that I joined the force because I cared what others thought of me? No! Now get out; you’ve wasted enough of my time…”

And with that, the woman turned her back on Sakura, manicured nails curling around her teacup before she did. Sakura stood, shaking and close to tears. The words Tsunade spoke were true, and yet Sakura couldn’t find it in her to move. Sakura had meant what she said – she didn’t want to be protected anymore – and yet it wasn’t at all what she wanted to say.

“I can learn,” Sakura challenged in a shaky voice that was bordering on a sob. Tsunade didn’t even turn around; a bark of laughter filled the room.

“Bah! You’ve had five years to learn the basic shinobi techniques, and you haven’t even been able to do that!”

Sakura blinked back tears, the truthful statement piercing her defenses with surprising fierceness. “That’s because I was stupid, I was focused on the wrong things! I’m ready to try harder; I know that I can–”

“I knew things too, brat. I knew that I could stop a patient’s bleeding. And yet he still bled out, and died in my arms. Nothing is certain, you stupid, stupid child!”

Sakura was shocked into numbness. Tsunade’s tone was dark and bitter, taunting the pink-haired teen with its coldness. The large padded chair tilted backwards leisurely, and the woman waved a hand to dismiss the young shinobi from her office. Sakura felt such anger, such rage in seeing that blasé motion. It reminded the girl of the motion the medic-nin had made when they pulled the sheets over the mangled, bloody mess that was once two warm loving parents who had just been minding their own business when–

“Well unlike you, I’m tired of running from death!” Sakura shrieked. “I’m tired of losing people I love because I’m not brave enough to stand up and fight! I don’t care what you say; I’m going to be the best medic-nin this village has ever seen! Sure, people I love may die, but at least then…”

Sakura was sobbing now, her face contorting into an ugly mask of agony as she remembered her parents. Tsunade was silent, unmoving, her chair still tilting back lazily.

“At least t-then, I know that I did everything I could.”

Without waiting for a response, Sakura turned and ran from the office, slamming the door behind her.

The next morning, Tsunade sent Sakura a note that offered a personal apprenticeship under the Hokage herself. Sakura waited almost a week before replying, terrified that the note was some sort of trick so that Tsunade could exact sweet, painful revenge in response to Sakura’s rudeness. Finally, the prospect of being apprenticed to the most skilled medic-nin in the country – possibly the world – overcame her fear, and she sent an affirmative reply. A message was sent back informing Sakura that training would start immediately, and to meet the Hokage in her office that very evening.

Tsunade never once spoke of what had been exchanged that day, and so Sakura was never quite sure what prompted the woman to take her on as an apprentice. Sakura supposed that the greatest things in life were often the most mysterious, and her relationship with her shishou only went to prove that statement.

“Sakura-chan!” a loud, familiar voice shouted, and Sakura quickly turned. Konohamaru grinned sheepishly as he screeched to a halt, and Sakura smiled in greeting. The young boy was twelve now, and had filled out slightly, with more muscle and less of a pout than he had two years ago. He was often in the hospital being treated for his numerous – and never ceasing, it seemed – gashes and broken bones, and Sakura was often the medic scheduled to treat him. It seemed that Konohamaru was successfully following in Naruto’s footsteps; both were exceptionally strong magnets for anything mildly hazardous and/or sharp.

“Hey, Konohamaru! What’s up?” the medic asked, eyes unconsciously scanning his form for any injury. He seemed perfectly healthy, and so she relaxed ever so slightly. The genin had a huge grin on his face, and Sakura blinked as the boy began to jump up and down slightly.

“Sakura-chan, I just heard from someone…Naruto’s back!”

If it were physically possible, Sakura’s heart would have stopped at those two words. The air became thick and viscous, and Sakura’s lungs felt almost exhausted with the effort they were making to get enough oxygen to the brain. Konohamaru’s grin faded slightly, and he made a point of peering up into her eyes.

“Um, are you alright, Sakura-chan? You’re looking a bit pale…”

Sakura, with a huge shake, forced herself to smile at him, though it felt more like a grimace of pain than an expression of reassurance. “I’m fine, Konohamaru. Are you going to look for him?”

“Well duh!” Konohamaru looked at her strangely, and she laughed weakly, patting his head as she passed him.

“Tell him to find me, okay? I’ve got to get some herbs for Tsunade, she’s been harping about them for weeks,” she explained, and Konohamaru nodded seriously, dashing off in a flash of blue. Sakura sighed, and sagged against the alley wall that separated Ichiraku’s from the next residence.

There were no herbs to collect, but Sakura needed time to prepare for her meeting with Naruto. What would she say? Should she hug him, or was that making her feelings too obvious? Did she even have any feelings?

Most importantly of all…did Sakura dare tell him of Katsumi’s death?

No, she couldn’t do that. Sakura was his friend, that was obvious, but there were things that were too delicate for mere friends to relay. Kakashi would have to be the one to break the news, as he was the only other member of Team 7 that was currently in Konoha.

Sasuke was still missing, and thinking of the forlorn Uchiha made sadness pang even deeper into her chest. Katsumi was Sasuke’s world, she was everything to him. Did he know that his dearest friend was gone to a place where no amount of power or skill could reach her? Or was Sasuke so wrapped up in his revenge that he just assumed that Katsumi had remained in Konoha, waiting dutifully for his return?

Sakura knew that Sasuke would return, someday. It was clear that most the village believed Sasuke to be lost forever, but Sakura knew better. It wasn’t because she herself wanted him to return – witnessing the pain Naruto felt because of Sasuke thoroughly destroyed any feelings she previously held for the Uchiha.

Sasuke may be power-hungry, but what he felt for Katsumi was real. He would come for her when his brother’s death was exacted, even if in the process it warped his soul. Some things ran deeper than revenge, and Sakura knew that love was one of those things.

The stone was hard against Sakura’s head as she leaned back against it, letting out a sigh of frustration at the warring thoughts in her head. No matter how much she wanted to resent Sasuke for inciting such agony within Naruto, she just couldn’t feel anything but pity for the Uchiha.

For whether he knew it or not, his Katsumi was gone, all the same.

Sakura had cried when she found out. Katsumi wasn’t her friend, not even close. The two were neutral, even polite at times. No…the reason Sakura had cried was because of the realization that such a beautiful, strong girl was now dead. It was always painful to see something strong fall, more painful than any mortal wound.

Now she wondered; what would Sasuke’s reaction be? It was an awful thought, but she was morbidly curious. Would he break down and cry, or would he go numb, fitting the persona of the cold shinobi everyone knew him as?

Sakura looked up from the ground, and her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of a blonde teenager, standing atop a metal support. His tall form was clad in a black and orange jumpsuit, and the long straps of his Konohagakure forehead protector whipped behind him as he turned to examine his village. Blonde, unruly spikes fell around his head, held back by the metal-plated band that marked him as a shinobi of Konoha.

“Naruto!” she cried, and those eyes – they were so vibrant, Sakura could see their cerulean brightness even from a distance – snapped downward. A grin appeared, so large it nearly split his face, and his arms lifted in excitement as he jumped down to meet her. The sun illuminated his face – Sakura struggled to ignore the fact that it was surprisingly handsome in comparison to the boyishly attractive face that she remembered – and his eyes were dragging her into the happiness of it all.

Naruto was home.