Disclaimer: I own nothing of Naruto. If I had, I would be fired because I woul obviously have a problem with deadlines. . .

Silence

"Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence,
and I learn, whatever state I may be in,
therein to be content."

~Hellen Keller

It was sunny and warm, a perfect day by most anyone's standards. The world was laughing at him.

A strong hand sat on his shoulder, but he couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel much of anything lately, because he was more concerned with making sure that he didn't feel at all.

That Man was gone.

No, That Man was Dead, not gone. That Man was gone when on a mission, but that meant that He would come back.

At the age of eight, he was chuunin, and he knew the difference between gone and Dead. He was, after all, a shinobi. A genius. Death wasn't hard to figure out.

That Man wasn't gone. He was Dead, which was much more permanent.

"He's gone, Kakashi. He's gone."

And yet, people insist on using the word gone, as if he were too young to comprehend Death. But he was a shinobi. Death was what he lived, what he breathed.

"Hatake-san."

Sorry.

He hated that word.

What were they all sorry for? They did nothing. It was That Man's fault anyway. They knew it too, and said so all the time.

That Man broke the rules. Abandoned the mission. Hurt the village.

That Man had told him, told him, that the village was everything. Never hurt the village.

But He had broken the rules, so it was His fault.

"Hatake-san!"

It was That Man's fault, so why did they look at him like that? Like it was his fault?

He wouldn't have done that, not ever. He would have followed the rules, never broken them. He promised that when he became a ninja, so why did they stare at him like that?

". . . son of trash. . ."

". . .like father like son. . ."

". . . bad blood. . ."

"Hatake-san!"

It was so sunny and bright that day; as That Man was buried into the ground, the birds were chirping merrily and the cherry blossoms fluttered happily in the breeze. There were not many people there. There would have been though, if things had gone differently.

That Man was Dead.

"He's gone. I'm so sorry, Kakashi," His sensei's voice, but he ignored it.

Why was he sorry? Why were any of them sorry?

Because That Man was Dead? Because he was the one who found Him on the bloodied floor? Because of the names they called Him? Because of the names they called him? Because of the way they stare? Because of the whispers they speak when they think he can't hear? Because he can't look at himself in the mirror anymore without feeling the shame? Because he is alone and doesn't understand why? Because he is expected to be better even though it is never enough? Because all they ever see is Him and they won't stop staring at him – suffocating him – getting harder to breathe –he is going to die –please help – whywon'tsomeonehelphim—

"HATAKE-SAN!"

He gasped loudly as ice cold needles prickled his face and neck, shocking him back into the world. Gentle, but firm hands grabbed onto his wrists as he struggled to reach for his kunai pouch. Snapping his eyes open, he wildly looked around, but was only able to see white.

"Please calm down. This is Takara, member of Team Minato and also your team mate, assigned to retrieve a Konoha Ambassador from the Hot Spri—"

"Okay, I get it," Kakashi rasped irritably, pushing Takara away from him. He shook his cold, wet locks of silver hair from his face, fidgeting uncomfortably at the wetness of his clothing.

Takara frowned, but folded her hands on her lap as she sat beside her team captain while he came to. Maybe dumping cold water on his head wasn't the most gracious way of reviving her captain?

"You have received a minor concussion and a broken rib during the attack, as well as a laceration across your side," she informed him as he winced, "Other than that, I cannot tell other from minor cuts and bruises."

Kakashi sat up slowly, cringing from the pain in his head and side, and looked around. The sky was dark, million stars shining overhead. A small fire crackled beside them, illuminating their immediate area with an orange glow. About twenty feet to their left, he could just make out a small ravine behind a few trees. He could not, however, hear the stream, no matter how hard he strained his ears. It was extremely unsettling that their range of sound was limited to only a few foot radius by the forests's unique chakra. As his dark eyes fully adjusted to the dim light, he turned to look at his team mate.

She looked pretty banged up, a large purple bruise covering the entire left side of her face and neck shining in the reddish firelight. Her hair had come out of its ponytail, hanging messily to her collar bones, though pushed back away from her eyes. The parts of her legs that he could see were cut up and bruised.

"Your injuries?" he asked, looking her up and down carefully.

"Sprained wrist and fractured cheek bone," she replied stoically, though if she were in a lot of pain, she hid it well.

"Where are Obito and Rin?" he asked, stretching his stiff muscles.

A flash of uncertainty flickered across her silver gaze, and Kakashi froze, dread creeping into his chest.

"Where are they?"

"I. . .I had sent a few water clones to scout the immediate area, but they found nothing. I would have sent them out further, but my chakra stores are low. We can only hope that they have found each other already."

Kakashi grimaced at the thought of Obito stumbling blindly through the dark, soundless forest. Rin, at least, would be able to rationalize, and treat their injuries. On the other hand, the idea of Rin being left to fend for herself was also unappealing. She was more of a medic than she was a fighter.

"Any sign of the path?"

Takara scowled into the dim expanse of trees, her frustration bright in her eyes as she answered.

"No. I am extremely concerned about the distance we have been carried from the path. For all we know, we could be very close to Obito or Rin. But with the way this forest absorbs sound and chakra. . ."

Kakashi was very aware of how bad their situation was. They were both injured, tired, and missing half of their team. It was pitch black and eerily silent true to the forest's name, and the temperatures were plummeting. Not only that, but there was undoubtedly an enemy—the one who had unleashed the wind attack— lurking in the forest, both the sound of their movement and their chakra signature cloaked by the forest's strange energy. To top it all off, neither of them had a clue as to where they were or how far they were from any form of civilization.

"Our best bet will be to get to higher ground, if there is any nearby. We may be able to spot something that'll give away Rin's or Obito's positions, or maybe even the path," Kakashi reasoned to himself, mentally calculating their options.

"Or a clue as to the whereabouts of our enemy," Takara said quietly, her silver eyes glinting in the light like a cat's. Kakashi wished briefly that he could see as well as she could.

"How long were we both unconscious for?" he asked suddenly.

The brunette shifted slightly in her stiff kneeling position, and she once again went into a sort of debriefing mode.

"By the position of the sun, I assume that it was approximately 20:00 when we were attacked. It was around two and a half hours before I awoke, and another hour and a half before you did the same."

Four hours. It had to be around midnight, then.

So much could have happened in that time.

"Why didn't you try to wake me, especially since I had a concussion?" he asked, fighting the growing irritation and frustration that wanted to show in his voice.

Takara blatantly ignored his tone and shook her head.

"I had roused you to a conscious state twice to ensure your health. However, you had lost blood and therefore needed rest. I did not feel the need to keep you awake, seeing as we will not be moving this late at night," the girl reasoned carefully.

They both fell quiet, neither of them looking each other in the face. The silence was disconcerting.

"I'l l take watch."

"I will take watch."

The two young shinobi blinked at one another in surprise at their simultaneous decisions.

"Look, you should get some rest. I'll take watch from here," Kakashi finally murmured seriously, dark eyes narrowed in thought.

Takara stared at him for a long moment, her gaze suddenly far away. She was silent for so long that Kakashi almost became concerned that she had sustained more injury than she had let on. However, she suddenly snapped out of her daze, clenching her fists in her lap.

"Would my eyes not be better for keeping watch, though?" she questioned matter-of-factly, in that tone that contained only maturity and not a hint of rebelliousness. It was irritating.

Kakashi scowled at her, wondering why she was being difficult about this when she was obviously exhausted.

"For what I lack in sight, I make up for with my sense of smell."

Takara shifted uncomfortably, taking a deep breath as she felt the panic creeping into her chest. Sleeping was not something that she wanted to do, especially after the night before. Visions of black water and agonizing cold and tormented screams roared in her mind briefly, and she felt a chill seep into her bones.

Her silver eyes flashed with something strange, something that Kakashi couldn't quite place but could tell was very wrong.

"Sight would be better than smell, in this situation."

Kakashi's grey eyes narrowed.

"Don't underestimate my abilities."

Takara instinctively reacted to the hostility, her glowing silver eyes sharpening as she stared into Kakashi's

"I am not."

"Then, I say that I will take watch." Finally the frustration showed as Kakashi straightened, trying to prove dominance with his posture. "Don't argue with me."

Takara's eyes widened fractionally, before they narrowed into luminescent slits. Her tiredness was making her temper extremely short.

"I will keep watch." She replied in a hard voice, and the silver-haired chuunin stiffened.

"And just who is the captain of—"

"Do not dare speak to me about rank at this moment, Hatake-san," Takara's voice came, in such harshness that Kakashi's mouth snapped shut, "We are in this situation because of your arrogance. If you believe that you outrank me, then rise and fight me, rather than use my origin as an excuse to treat me as a gennin," she threatened in a low voice, a silent wind whipping her auburn mane against her pale face.

Kakashi was silent. His dark eyes flickered to the ground, burning with both anger and acknowledgement.

She was right. If he had listened to her earlier, then this wouldn't have happened. The first mission that Minato-sensei had entrusted to him, and he'd blown it. He'd failed.

Takara watched him carefully, coldly, for several seconds. She expected anger from the silver-haired chuunin, prepared herself for an angry strike, but nothing came. She studied him harder, before realizing with a jolt just how malevolent her words had been.

She had blamed him for something that probably would have happened regardless of whether or not they had strayed from the path, and had greatly overstepped her boundaries. And she was the last person who should be allowed to make judgments. Reluctantly, Takara lowered her aggressive posture.

"I apologize. That was out of parameter," she said quietly, nearly lost in the sound-sucking forest.

Kakashi didn't answer, nor did he look at her. Respecting his wish to be left alone, Takara stood fluidly and leapt up into a high tree branch, where she would have a good field of vision. She glanced at the still form, bathed in both moonlight and firelight, and wondered whether or not they'd live through this, wondered if she'd ever gain his trust.

"Rest well."

He might have heard her. Or her voice might have been lost to the thick silence of the forest.

Neither slept.

Every muscle in Takara's boy ached the next morning. She forced herself to move, wincing in pain as her battered muscles stretched, but she knew that she had to loosen them in order for them to not be a hindrance to her.

Close behind her, Kakashi was washing his face in the river, with his mask on, because he was still paranoid that she would see his face even out of her peripheral with her superb eyesight. She rolled her silver eyes at his suspicion, but kept quiet.

Takara could see the bird across the creek, singing its heart out no doubt, but not a single tone hit her ears. Her skin prickled once again with unease. They needed to get out of this forest, and soon.

They had no bags. Both of their packs had been lost in the whirlwind, and Takara no longer had her weapon's pouch, so they had nothing to pack and nothing to slow them down.

"Are you ready, Hatake-san?" She yelled in Kakashi's direction, for she knew that Kakashi would not hear her otherwise.

The silver haired teenager straightened himself, and turned to her with an incredulous expression.

"Are we not eating?" he called back, though his voice was muted from that distance, and she had to rely on the movement of his lips.

Takara frowned, realizing that they indeed had not eaten. She did not feel hungry, even though she had been constantly ravenous as of late. She could only guess that it was the result of ingrained survival instincts that she had acquired during her time in Sound. She rarely ever ate while on a mission, only when she remembered to.

But Kakashi was right. They needed sustenance. Once they strayed from the river , they may not find much to eat.

Kakashi moved so that they were only a few feet apart.

"Oh. . . yes," she replied, her silver eyes looking into the forest thoughtfully, "It would be nice to catch a deer so that we could use the bladder as a canteen, but it would be unwise to attract unwanted attention."

Kakashi blinked at her.

"The bladder. . ."

Takara stared at him with utmost seriousness.

"Of course."

"With nothing to clean it with?"

"The consumption of urine is an age-old practice, with little health risk if drunk in moderation."

Kakashi decided to just not answer or mention his concern of parasites. After all, there was no way that he would be more squeamish than a girl, no matter how strange she was.

"As things are, we're going to have to have available water. I could carry it with a jutsu, but—"

"No," Kakashi interjected, "That'll waste your chakra."

Takara felt her eye twitch in annoyance, which was something that didn't happen often, but she had the feeling that it was going to happen more frequently the longer she and Kakashi were stuck together.

"As I am aware. Thank you for the observation," she said dryly, earning a blank look.

"I think we should stay near the river, traveling upstream. The rivers here lead to waterfalls and higher ground," Kakashi continued, ignoring Takara's jibe.

He was right, but Takara wasn't going to give him the pleasure of approval. Ignoring the fact that her thoughts were incredibly childish, she stood, and began to remove her kimono.

Kakashi blinked in dismay.

"What are you doing?"

Her silver eyes looked at him blankly.

"I am removing my clothing," she stated.

"Yes, I see. But why?"

Takara frowned, confused by the incredulous way that he was looking at her. Slipping her short kimono off of her pale, scarred shoulders, she was left in a black jumper. The spandex material was high-necked, cut off at the shoulders, and ended at mid-thigh .

Kakashi looked away pointedly.

"I am fishing," she stated, folding the clothing gently and setting it on the ground before getting to work on unzipping her boots, "If we are walking against the river, it will take us to higher elevation and cooler temperatures. I do not want to be wet," stepping out of her boots, her lanky form turned towards him questioningly, "You want to eat, yes?"

The silver haired chuunin crossed his arms indignantly, stormy grey eyes refusing to look at her.

"Then please allow me to finish my task."

Kakashi kept his mouth shut, and moodily sat down. Takara rolled her eyes— a new habit, she realized—at the way he pretended not to be watching her out of the very edge of his peripheral. Slowly, she stepped into the icy river, goose bumps rising on her skin. She looked down into the slightly murky stream, her silver irises beginning to stretch and spin.

Every particle, visible to her. No bubble unnoticed. The tiny flecks of Micah in the stones at the bottom, winking at her from the river bed. The feeler of an aquatic bug wriggling from underneath a rock. And then—

It almost startled even Kakashi, the speed she showed as one of her long-fingered hands flashed out. The next instant, the girl was holding two wriggling fish over her head, their silver bellies flashing.

"This should suffice," she said, "We must not take too much time to eat," she continued as she laid the fish on a rock and promptly began to de-scale them with the expertise of a fisherman from Wave country.

Kakashi felt slightly emasculated.

"Are you ready?"

The two young shinobi stood side by side at the edge of the eerily silent forest, staring into its menacing depths.

"As I will ever be," the brunette replied seriously, her shoulders squared and looking for the entire world like a soldier ready to march into battle.

The two shared a brief thought—how much they wished they still had their weapon pouch.

They stepped forward.

It was really unnerving for the only sound that reached your eardrums to be the pounding of your heart and the crunch of foliage beneath your feet. Engulfed in a soundless void, Takara's eyes flitted in every direction with paranoia.

In front of her, Kakashi was rigid as he walked. Equipped with nothing but his eyes and strong sense of smell, he felt his skin crawl as if millions of invisible eyes stared at him. It was strange for the both of them, to be so uneasy when they were usually so confident in their shinobi skills.

Neither tried to speak to the other. They strained for even a little hint of sound in the distance, looking for signs of Obito, Rin, or their attacker.

Takara found herself wondering about the silver-haired boy as she stared at his back. In her life, she'd met many chilling people; those without positive emotions and who wished to remain solitary at all times if they could help it. Their cores—their souls—Takara could only describe them as being dull, icy, and sharp as knives. You didn't get too close, if you valued your life.

But Kakashi wasn't like that. He was cold, yes, but it wasn't the type of cold that resonated from deep within. It was cold only felt on the surface, radiating from the skin. It wasn't the type of chill that could freeze over the entire room, but one that could be heated and cooled in an instant—strictly artificial. However, this cold front was as indestructible as diamonds. Takara could sense that there was far more to the Hatake than what met the eye, but had no idea what to do so that she may be able to look beyond it. Perhaps she never would; he may never trust her. Though, it was obvious that trust was a serious issue for the silver-haired chuunin, not that Takara had any room to speak about trust.

She knew that she was getting too lost in her thoughts, but sleep deprivation was making her mind lose its sharpness, and she noticed the glint of light whizzing through the trees just a moment too late.

"Hatake-san!" Takara called, but she realized fearfully that he wouldn't be able to hear her. They were no longer in a clearing void of vegetation; they were right in the middle of the sound-sucking foliage. She was several feet away and she was not a particularly loud person to begin with, so her voice would never be able to carry far enough.

She leapt.

Kakashi felt the wind knocked out of him just a fraction of a second after he sensed an ominous presence to his left. Alarm shot through his system as he began sprawling towards the ground. Tucking and rolling, he landed with some grace in a crouch, hand searching for a kunai that wasn't there. He was met with the startling silver eyes of Takara, whom he realized had pushed him out of the way of an attack. The two shinobi leapt to their feet, immediately shifting into the standard back to back position, poised for battle.

"Takara," he said loudly, testing to see if she could hear him at that proximity even if they faced opposite directions.

"Yes," came her voice, almost sounding as if she were saying it softly, though he could tell by the strong vibrations against his back that she was near-yelling. At least they could hear each other, though.

"Do you see anything?"

"No."

Kakashi cursed.

"I can't sense or smell anything. This guy's screwing with us."

Takara tilted her head, not understanding the expression.

"Screwing?"

". . . Nevermind," Kakashi muttered quietly, knowing that she couldn't hear him.

Silence. Stillness. The tension was apparent in the harsh lines of their taught muscles and drawn lips. Takara's head throbbed as she strained her eyes for anything, but there was nothing to be found.

"I do not see anything."

"And I don't smell anything."

But the goose bumps on Takara's arms refused to disappear; there was something wrong.

Eyes narrowed, Kakashi carefully felt around him for anything out of place, his gut screaming in warning. He closed his eyes, feeling the thrum of energy around him. Above him. Beneath. . .

Kakashi's yes snapped open in realization, just as two kunai came hurling through the trees, heading straight for both shinobi's chests.

"Takara, don't—"

Takara acted on reflex, hooking her arm around Kakashi's neck and forcing him to duck with her.

And triggered the trap that they were standing upon.

The sound of their shouts was lost in the thunderous roar, which in turn was devoured by the forest, as the ground gave way beneath them into the deep cavern below.

The two shinobi desperately tried to grab to the sides of the trap, only to have the earth crumble between their fingers. Not even chakra would allow them to grip to the side booby-trap.

So, they settled for grasping each other. Their only life-line, their only support, as they plummeted into the damp, dark earth.

It was hard to tell who woke first. Takara was sure that she'd been conscious longer, but Kakashi had actually been able to get up first.

He unburied his team-mate from beneath piles of rock and dirt, allowing her to finally breathe again. Or, rather, better than before. She'd broken a rib, and it'd punctured her left lung, leaving her with an awful wheeze. Blood trickled in her eyes from a head wound, though the concussion was the real hindrance to her sight. She allowed her eyes to unfocus, knowing that they would do her little good at that point.

Kakashi was certain that he had a broken elbow and foot, but he knew that he was better off than his team mate, no matter how valiantly she tried to hide that fact. She insisted on sitting up and even standing, investigating their pitch-black surroundings as best she could with her lack of sight.

Above them, the cavern was completely sealed shut by both rock and a chakra seal. Injured, low on chakra, and with little affinity for earth jutsu, they were stuck. Whatever enemy had been out there, watching them, they had succeeded in the capture of the two Konoha shinobi.

They could do little else, but wait.

With nothing else to do, and even less to say, Kakashi and Takara settled themselves against the cold, clean-cut sides of the trap, sinking into thought.

Kakashi could hear Takara's whistling breath across from him, and it occurred to him in an off-handed way that they could hear sound again. It did little to brighten his mood.

Perhaps this was it. Perhaps this was as far into war as Kakashi would see. Born into it, and dying in it before he'd reached jounin.

War is all he's known since he was small. It was the talk that the adults created small-talk with at the barber shop and the grocery store—the most recent victory, the number of casualties, the possibility of peace. The adults spoke of it wistfully, with the memory of a time of smiles, a time without rationing, a time of peace. To Kakashi, it was reality. He'd been breathing the stifling fear of attack since he'd entered the academy. He's been exposed to death, and what that meant before he'd reach the academy. He'd been taught it was entirely possible for him to see the front lines of battle and die before he'd even reached chuunin.

It was morbidly fascinating, wondering whether or not he'd been lucky or unlucky for not having known peace before he died. After all, you can't feel regret nor contentment from something you haven't experienced.

Peace. Love. Happiness.

Takara wasn't sure which of those things she'd experienced before, but she's certain that she'd felt them at some point over the past month of being in Konoha.

Was she lucky?

There were plenty of people who'd died that day, never knowing. Never knowing the warmth in the chest at receiving a smile devoid of madness or malice. Never having the security of knowing where their next meal was coming from. Never knowing what a shower was, or what ramen smelled like, or even the taste of clean water.

She'd left Sound, ignorant to concepts like humanity or emotion. Left the others in cells, certain that their fate was better than whatever awaited them in the light. Left, certain that she was going to die. Death had been ideal. Death had been safe. Death had been comfort.

She would have never known.

Takara's chest tightened, making it even harder to draw breath. Her breath shook with the realization that it wasn't enough. She wanted to know more.

She didn't want to die.

But, she shouldn't complain. She should be grateful. She was grateful.

Swallowing, she tilted her head back against the rock, reveling in the pain exploding through her skull at the gentle contact. She wasn't dead yet.

Across from her, she heard Kakashi draw a long breath. She closed her eyes.

She was used to the dark. She was used to sitting without company for hours on end—or, rather, without the company of the living. It wouldn't have bothered her too much had she been left alone to die. She's never expected anything else.

But, the sound of his breath was comforting. His breathing assured her that she wasn't alone.

In the past, another person meant pain. It meant competition for survival. It meant less food. Less water. Less air. Less space. It meant battle. War. Paranoia. Nothing.

She hadn't known it. Another person could also mean. . . Peace.

That's what this was. Peace.

". . . Hatake-san?"

She sensed that he'd frozen. It meant that he'd heard her.

"Can I call you. . . May I call you Kakashi-san?"

The silver -haired chuunin was quiet for several seconds, his body eerily still, his breathing gone. Takara stared calmly at him, the numbness of impending death removing any nervousness or apprehension to her question.

The threat of the end causes strange things to happen to a person. It peels back the layers of façade, leaving the soul out in the open. At its strongest, and at its most vulnerable.

Kakashi figured he ha nothing left to lose but his pride. Not that there was much of that left in the eyes of Takara.

". . . As long as you don't call me –kun."

The silence was shattered, and, suddenly, Takara could breathe again. She felt a small tug on the corner of her lips, and she fought a strange, new urge coiling in her chest.

"And may I continue to do so if we live through this?"

A sigh of irritation.

"If you must," he mumbled, "But no -kun ."

"Why does such an honorific bother you? Is it not a term of affection?" Takara asked, finding his ardent dislike of the honorific entertaining.

"I don't look like a child," he huffed.

Takara stared blankly in the direction of Kakashi's for several seconds. Slowly, as the words processed in her brain, her silver eyes began to widen, blinking owlishly in the dark in sudden epiphany.

"You. . . You dislike that honorific because. . . you are self conscious of your height!"

Takara didn't need to see Kakashi to know that he looked absolutely horrified, the air shifting as he sprang from his lounging position.

"I- I am not!"

It was all the confirmation she needed.

"You are the shortest of the team. Your hair only gives the illusion of height."

"It does not!"

The pressure in her chest was building.

"You cannot fool my eyes, Hata. . . Ka. . .Kakashi-kun!"

"OI!"

And then she burst.

It hurt her ears, the shrill sound tearing from her vocals chords and ricocheting off of the stone walls. Tears began trickling down her face, the pain in her lungs was so intense, but the feeling of laughter was too strange to stop. Strange, wonderful, and addictive. She didn't want it to end.

Unfortunately, her lungs disagreed, and her abrupt and fierce laughter ended with a wet cough and a mouthful of blood, which she graciously spat to the side. Her shoulders still shook, and her diaphragm spasmed with aftershocks, unused to being used in such a way. The last of her laughter died, decreasing in intensity until the pair was once again encased in silence.

Kakashi opened his mouth, and said the very first thing that came to mind.

"You have the most obnoxious laugh I've ever heard."

Takara ignored him.

It was funny. Her lungs screamed in agony. Her head wailed at being jostled. Her fractured cheek bone throbbed with the use of her facial muscles. But, Takara was certain that she'd never felt anything so wonderful in her entire life.

She would never have known.

How long they had been in there, they had little idea. The very slight changes in temperature were the only thing that indicated time.

The best they could tell, it'd been a full thirty-six hours since their capture. They wondered what was taking the enemy so long.

They went through several theories. The enemy had gone for reinforcements. The enemy was letting them suffer.

What they really feared, was that the enemy was going to leave them there indefinitely.

"What do you feel. . . is worse, Kakashi-san?" Takara asked idly, when the silence became too much to bear, "Dehydration. . . or execution?"

Kakashi didn't answer for a second, paying attention to the way her breathing came in rasps now, and wondering how much time she'd have left before the internal bleeding took her. He tried to not allow those thoughts to consume him, and he humored her only half-sensible question.

"Dehydration would be slower. . . But there isn't a guarantee that the enemy would kill us quickly."

"We would not have any useful information to offer. It would be quick."

"Perhaps. . . Unless they use us for ransom."

Takara scoffed weakly.

"We have no value."

Kakashi shook his head wearily, completely agreeing with her. But, he knew his sensei.

"Minato-sensei would come for us."

Takara paused, trying to catch her breath before she muttered.

"That does not sound. . . like a compliment."

"Minato-sensei is an elite shinobi—one of the most powerful that our village has to offer," Kakashi said, through a dry throat. He didn't usually speak this much at once, especially in praise. The dehydration was probably getting to him.

"But, Minato-sensei has one major flaw. He puts the lives of his team mates above the objective. Above the mission. . ." The silver-haired chuunin struggled to continue speaking, his voice coming out ragged and croaking from lack of water, "That's a mistake. An individual is not above the village."

For a long time, Takara didn't answer. Kakashi wondered, in an off-handed way, if she'd finally passed out. If her injuries had finally become too much, and she was finally slipping away. . .

His heart lurched in his chest.

"Takara?"

The sound of a slow, painful movement reached his ears. Kakashi felt his heart stutter back to its slow pace. He let out a slow breath.

". . . It is a mistake. . . to jeopardize the mission. . . We are. . . Shinobi. . . Expendable," came Takara's slow response, so quiet that Kakashi had to strain in order to hear her. A weak cough bounced off of the cave's walls.

"But, Kakashi-san. . . . You do not fight. . . for the village," Takara wheezed, "You fight. . . for those you. . . know. . . You fight for. . . individuals."

There was a long series of weak coughs, wet not with the sound of water, but with the gurgle of rising blood. Kakashi waited with uncharacteristic patience. He had plenty of time. Finally, Takara regained control of her breathing enough to croak out a few more words.

"Is a village. . . not composed of. . . individuals?"

Kakashi did not have a chance to respond, even if he'd had the words. The final sounds that cut through his state of stunned silence was the sound of a body, falling to the side with a dull thud.

Words bounced in his head.

Protect the village. Always the village. Fight for individuals? Never abandon the mission. But then, what do you fight for? The village? The village was everything. Never hurt the village.

Why do you fight?

Do you even know?

The words rushed through his mind rapidly, sickeningly, feverishly, until they no longer made sense. He didn't try to listen. They didn't matter anymore.

Without really realizing what he was doing, Kakashi crawled over to the other side of the cavern—He hadn't moved in hours upon hours. It hurt to move. He couldn't feel his foot, so he dragged it.

Finally, he reached the body, still softly breathing, even if was only a wheeze. Cold, unmoving, but still alive.

And as he moved, blindly, to straighten her body so that her head lolled on his shoulder, the only thing that occurred to him is that he wasn't alone as long as she was still breathing.

He didn't want to be alone.

The voices faded, and blessed silence began to consume him.

He'd thought that he was dead. There was a light.

But the light wasn't pleasant; it pierced through his mind, made his head throb. This couldn't be death. It hurt too badly. . .

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

Kakashi's eyes flew open in alarm, and he instinctively flung himself over his still-unconcious team-mate as the world shook. An explosion loud enough to rip his brain from his ear canals rattled him to the bone, and shards of rock fell around them. Somehow, they missed.

"Are you trying to blow them to bits?!" a feminine voice screeched.

"How else were we supposed to get in?"

"I'm sure I could have thought of a few ways. . ." came a weary, exasperated voice.

Kakashi could hardly believe it.

"OI! YOU ALIVE DOWN THERE?!"

Kakashi was certain that he'd never be more relieved to hear that voice than he was right then.

Not that he'd ever, ever admit that.

"Obito. . . . You're late."

Okay, he'd be honest. That hadn't gone according to plan.

The objective? To get his team to cooperate better and for certain individuals to grow in the weakest parts of their personalities.

So, things hadn't turned out all that badly, all things considered. It could have been worse, anyway. . .

Takara was in stable condition, with her injuries treated, thanks to Rin. She was still unconscious, her light body resting on Obito's back, but she was no longer in danger of dying.

Kakashi, once his foot was healed and he'd consumed a soldier pill, insisted upon traveling with the rest of the group. If he noticed the slightly slower pace that the group had settled on for his sake, he didn't comment on it, nor did he fight it.

Ironically, the pair that had the least skill, had completed the mission first.

By some miracle, Obito had used his brain for something other than ogling his brunette teammate, and Rin had actually been able to show leadership capabilities without a head of bright silver hair to capture her attention.

Amazing, the things that could be accomplished when hormones were ignored.

Obito and Rin had assumed after the initial attack that Takara and Kakashi had continued on to Hot Spring country as if nothing had happened, completely unscathed, like the presumed geniuses they were. Consequentially, because everyone knows what they say about assuming things, the pair had been shocked to find, once they'd found their way to the village, that the other half of their team had not arrived, and no one had seen them.

That was when they began to panic.

Minato had arrived the next morning, expecting to see four re-unified chuunin, much more appreciative of each other's company (and voices) after their separation in the Silent Forest. He'd been fully prepared to congratulate them on a job well-done after revealing that there was no ambassador for them to escort back to Konoha, and that it had all been a team-work exercise organized by him, including the sudden wind storm in the woods. He'd wanted to see how Obito and Rin would handle things without a leader, and if Kakashi and Takara could somehow remain in the same vicinity without killing each other. They'd have a good laugh about it, after, as per usual, his team tried to kill him or have his rank stripped for cruel and unusual training methods.

It kind of killed his plan, to say the least, that both Takara and Kakashi hadn't made it to Hot Springs.

But, what's past is past. What's done is done. All's well that ends well, and all of that. Kakashi and Takara were both safe, and perhaps maybe this all hadn't been a complete disaster.

Minato watched as Kakashi hovered unusually close to Obito, steely eyes glancing at Takara's limp form as if he was concerned that Obito's erratic tree hopping would disturb her, or that maybe he'd drop her.

It wouldn't be the first time Obito's dropped an injured charge.

Meanwhile, Obito and Rin were able to have pleasant, less awkward conversations, Rin more willing to listen to the things Obito was saying—Which, to her pleasant surprise, wasn't all nonsense.

Minato tried to hide the knowing smile that was steadily growing on his face. But, the smile quickly vanished as another, more pressing thought consumed him.

"But wait, if the wind jutsu was Minato-sensei's fault. . . Then what's with the trap in the forest?" Obito suddenly voiced, eyeing his sensei a little accusingly.

"It was probably an old trap for Konoha shinobi," Rin said logically, "After all, there used to be a lot of fighting there. . ."

Minato was silent, an unpleasant feeling coiling within his stomach as his mind immediately banished Rin's theory.

The trap was new. Fresh, even, as far as Minato could tell as he'd examined the chakra seals around the area that Kakashi and Takara had fallen. The problem was that there were no indications of human chakra nearby. Not a single presence. Not even a scent. If there'd been a human being in that area within the past forty-eight hours, Minato would have sensed it.

That being as it was, there hadn't been any indication of human activity other than his students' anywhere in the region.

Whatever had been out there to capture his students had been deliberate, and selective. Takara and Kakashi had been meant to be caught.

Minato's blue eyes narrowed like razors.

Or, rather, Takara had been meant to be caught.

Forty-eight hours ago, coiled up in the shadows of a bush, a small grass snake had sat, its lense-like eyes watching in earnest as two shinobi walked past its look-out spot. Its black tongue had flicked, tasting the air that carried the scent of the two intruders.

Its slitted eyes had dilated as a pungent smell filled its glands. A scent that had made its head bob side to side in recognition.

With a soft hiss, the serpent released the trap seal laced between its scales.

"Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself, and know that everything in life has purpose. . ."

~ Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

A/N: I AM SO SORRY

I mean, I won't apologize for having a complicated, busy life. . . . But I truly, truly apologize for not answering all of your messages. I just want to thank all of you so much if you've stuck with me all of this time, and just know that, if you sent me a message, I received it, and every time I did, I vowed to work on this even if I just had a little time . . . Just. . . Thanks so much.

On another note. . . part of the reason this chapter took so long is because I. . . hated it. I felt like it was so dull and boring and! Just let me know where I can improve on in this! Or if I bored you to tears! Don't hold back! I can take it!

This fic won't be updated often, I don't think . . .
But it's not over, believe me. Hopefully this update proves that to you!

Er, there was one person. . . I'm so sorry I don't know who you are! I cleared my inbox! Who sent me a private message wondering if they could use this fic as art inspiration? Yes, of course you can! I don't mind at all, so long as I get to see it :D

And I've actually had two questions about if Takara's eyes were going to be like some Super-Sharingan or something. . . .
The answer is no, haha XD That's all I'm telling you, but GOD if I haven't read enough 'girl with eyes that could beat Itachi's' fics to strangle myself with.

Anyway, with the school year about to start up again. . . I'll actually be checking my email, haha. . . so messages will be received this time! So feel free to do so!

Again, I just want to HUG YOU TO DEATH if you're still here!

Ja ne!