"Hey, man."

Kakashi stands at the marble platform, hands pocketed, eyes dropped. There's not much to say today. Having coming here every morning, conversations tend to run dry. They age as children do, as books on a dusty shelf, wine in a forgotten cellar. He rethinks his silence. He wonders if it's even necessary to say anything at all.

He finds a good topic.

"You should've seen Naruto save the village. You should've seen him stop the mighty Pain."

Obito laughs. Or at least, Kakashi thinks he does. The dead have no voice, none the living can hear. They have no eyes, no hair, no touch, nothing with which to perceive earthly messages. Kakashi knows this but it's comforting this moment to think that they do.

He finishes his morning ritual and walks away.

Kakashi had always wondered how life would have been if his dear friend were still alive. Would he still wear those silly goggles? Would he and Rin have ended up together? Sometimes he envisions the two sitting at a bar, sharing beers together, laughing about Gai's latest antics and Minato's winded speeches. Kakashi's father had always told him stories of the second Hokage, of how he was able to resurrect the dead for purposes of battle. "What if," Kakashi wonders. "What if I learned it and brought back..."

He immediately discards the thought. Rin, bless her soul, would hate for Kakashi to tamper with the natural order. The seasons exist with purpose, he tells himself. The dead need rest just as the living need sleep.

He continues on his way and retrieves a book from his side pouch, a book entitled Icha Icha Tactics. It is an adult novel written by a former mentor, a great man now passed. Since Pain's attack a few months back, Kakashi has had little time to enjoy the book. It was an amazing read thus far, as scandalous and riveting as its previous installments. He considered rushing through the pages but has opted for the slow path, to really savor the text. This was probably the series' final volume, too, with its author now gone. His thoughts turn grim again. If only Jiraiya, if only its writer were still...

Again, Kakashi stops. Not from his gloom but from the sight of two suspicious figures: teens. One male, one female. They are twenty meters out, running hands on each other, surrounded in a grove of irises and geraniums. Kakashi shakes his head. They're making out, he realizes, at seven a.m. in the morning.

Incredible.

He steps closer. The young lady is a feisty one, tearing at the young boy's shirt as kunai would through paper. The boy is submissive; his head is buried in the woman's frizzled hair. For a moment Kakashi watches, conflicted between the pleasures of his book and of those standing before his eyes. He had read a passage like this in Icha Icha Paradise, of two characters running dirty deeds under a waterfall but he never believed it could actually happen. He feels compelled to watch but cannot help but feel burdened by his responsibility as an adult. Perhaps, they're too young to be doing this. What if she gets pregnant? What if he breaks her heart? Damn guilt, he says.

He resolves to end the antics.

Kakashi calls out then stops. He sees the girl bleeding. Profusely. Both of them are bleeding—the girl from her mouth, the boy from his neck. Kakashi acts quickly. He shoots a warning kunai past them. But they continue. At that instance, Kakashi realizes the weight of the moment. This isn't just a friendly rendezvous. They're not making love—she is eating him alive.

"Stop that, you're killing him!" Kakashi shouts.

The girl slowly turns to him. She stares down the Copycat Ninja with empty eyes, windows devoid of youthful warmness. Her mouth opens to reply, but all that escapes are bits of red grime and skin. She groans and staggers to get a better look. Kakashi pushes past the a flower bushel and readies his stance. The entranced girl hisses, then drops the young man. She lunges at Kakashi, who slowly pulls the metal plate away from his left eye.

"I guess Chapter 10's gonna have to wait."