A/N: SO. IT IS THE PRECIOUS MISSFAERIEKAITI'S BIRTHDAY TODAY AND SHE'S OFFICIALLY BECOMING A YOUNG ADULT TODAY AND I JUST CAN'T HANDLE IT BECAUSE MY KAITI-CHAN IS GROWING UPPP. *clings to and cries* First off, I would like to wish my beloved MissFaerieKaiti A HAPPY EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY! I hope you have a wonderful day, missy~ please accept my poorly written birthday gift. This story is an idea Kaiti suggested herself a while back; in her True or False story, it'd been addressed that my oc Haru had suffered an injury that had put him out of the shinobi line of work forever, but never in detail, and that's what she wanted, to see it gone about. Anyway, I'm not very good with fight sequences or medical details, but I did my best on this and I hope you enjoy it, Kaiti-chan! *huggle*

NARA SHIKAMARU. COME DO THE DISCLAIMER FOR YOUR NUMBER ONE FANGIRL'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT.

Shikamaru: What a drag... fine. You know the basics. I doubt Taylor even has the intelligence required to own anything Naruto. And, what the heck, happy birthday, Kaiti. Can I go back to my Shogi now?

I RESENT THAT.

Hope you all enjoy~ :3 Ohoh, and, as an added bonus, to make up for the crappiness of this chapter, I added a second chapter to this story - which is a random ShikaKaida drabble. It's not the best, but I hope you like that, too, Kaiti-chan! Happy birthday! ^.^

One with the darkness of night, silent and shrouded. That's how it should be done. No running, no rushing in, just taking your time to devise and calculate. Every ninja's method is different, but for the Anbu Blackops, everything's taken to a different level. Mistakes simply aren't tolerated. You do your job quickly and silently, then leave.

That's how Haru preferred it, anyhow. He breathed in noiselessly from behind his mask, waiting patiently. His legs weren't burning from being crouched for so long because of all the missions that'd done well to make him accustomed to it, but even so, he was beginning to feel a twinge of discomfort, which he ignored with ease. The mission always, always came first.

His keen ears, trained to hear even the smallest, most subtle sound of movement, picked up on leaves crunching.

It was time.

Haru quietly transported closer to the sound, perched in a leafy limb that did well to hide him but at the same time give him a good vantage point of his target.

He'd been briefed on the mission as quickly as possible before being sent out. It was of the utmost, top secrecy. The more classified the missions, the more high-up the ANBU.

Even though the Hokage hadn't said so, Haru could read between the lines. This wouldn't be a mission or fight where he knew he'd win like any other. No, this one was going to be difficult, but he was ready for it.

After readying himself, Haru sprung.

It was a long, agonizing battle, full of clashing metal and jutsus. Haru's sharp mind kept his movements precise, but after almost three hours, his thoroughly-trained body began to wear down, his senses less alert. He had to resort to taijutsu as he depleted of chakra reserve.

More people, cohorts of his target, began to join the fight. At first, Haru had fended them off with ease though it meant less damage to his main target. But now, something had to change. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up.

Then, lo and behold, an opening revealed itself. If Haru could just get one swift, perfectly aimed attack in, he could knock out his target and be done. Unfortunately, it had to be done with a jutsu, because his ninja weapons weren't going to cut it. His attacker would be able to see that coming. No, he had to be more discreet.

He mentally ran over his options and chose a wind jutsu. He didn't have the energy to summon more chakra, but that wasn't an option. He'd just have to find it. This was life and death.

Jump, dodge, concentrate, sidestep, duck, concentrate, repeat. Then... there! He clapped his hands, using the one wind ninjutsu that didn't require handsigns while giving damage. A powerful gust of wind shot out from his palms.

Then there was a sudden white-hot, consuming pain in his back. He could feel blood trickling out of his mouth, but he refused to fall until his target did. He had to finish this mission.

Time hung in the balance, seemed to last an eternity as he watched his Hurricane Clap eventually make impact.

Haru and the rogue ninja fell at the same time.

His last thoughts as he hit the ground, engulfed in a pool of his own blood, were consumed with his little sister. Kyra hadn't wanted him to become an ANBU. She'd been adamant against it. Everything was flashing through his mind - raising her, being her sensei, giving her her first chunin vest, watching her and his two other students become Jonin and thus retiring as their sensei... the look on her face when he'd told her he was joining the Anbu Blackops.

But he'd gone against her wishes. He'd given up her dream for his. He supposed this was karma, he reflected wryly, and he'd never felt more regret.

I'm sorry...imouto..

The former members of Team Haru were called to the hospital, and even though they hadn't been told why they were needed, they put two and two together. Nineteen-year-old Kyra had her teeth clenched, choking back tears and bracing for the worst yet not being ready for it at all. Her best friend and former squadmate, Kaida, clasped her hand and held it tightly for support, tears also encased in her hazel-green eyes. Even Hotori, who had been at odds with Kyra ever since their breakup, and had never shown any kindness toward her except when they'd dated, placed his hand on her slender shoulder with a tight grip.

Haru had meant the world to each and every one of them. He'd been a splendid sensei, a remarkable friend, and an amazing brother.

Please, please, please... reverberated in Kyra's head, her mind too jumbled to finish the rest of the plea, mentally repeating the word like a mantra.

Tsunade and Shizune called Kyra in first, naturally. They sat her down, faces grim, as Kyra listened attentively whilst trying to blink back a torrent of tears.

"Your brother isn't in good shape," Tsunade got straight to the point. "He got a poison-tipped kunai lodged in his spinal cord. By the time someone found him unconscious, he'd lost a lot of blood and the poison spread to the bone."

Kyra made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. Who'd dared to put her kindhearted Nii-san in such pain?

"Sakura and I did what we could. We extracted the poison, and I tried to mend his bone marrow back together again. Haru survived the surgery, but he's in critical condition," Tsunade continued, evaluating Kyra with firm, but sympathetic, brown eyes. "It's possible Haru may not walk away from this - literally."

Shizune cut in at this point, her face soft with empathy. "What Lady Tsunade's trying to say is, Haru's probably going to be handicapped for the rest of his life." She let that hang in the air for a moment, then cleared her throat, her voice low when she spoke again. "He'll have to retire from being a shinobi, permanently."

Kyra didn't know whether to be horrified about this predicament or relieved that he was alive, or both.

Haru Temachi, the protege of Sakumo Hatake, the master of all five chakra elements... quit being a ninja?

It wasn't possible. This couldn't happen. This couldn't be enough to bring him down.

No.

He couldn't...

"Nii-san," she whispered brokenly.

Kyra could hold her tears in no longer.

Kyra, in a way - a very selfish way - was glad that their good-for-nothing scum parents never came to visit Haru once while he was in the hospital (or out). She wanted her older brother, her best friend, her sensei, the parent she'd never had, all to herself.

She was at his side when he awakened from the medically-induced coma. She was at his side when Tsunade came to break the news to him that his retirement as a ninja was coming much earlier than expected. She was at his side when she saw him cry for the very first time. She was at his side, feeding him when he refused to eat. She was at his side to hold his hand when he'd rather not talk. She was at his side on the days where all he did was stare blankly at the wall, showing no reaction and not showing any signs of even being aware of her presence. She was at his side to help him through physical therapy. She was at his side when he was discouraged over not being able to stand up or walk at all on his own. She was at his side to talk when he couldn't, to fill the silence with discussing old, good memories. She was at his side during the painful, awkward visits from Kaida and Hotori. She was at his side when people looked at him with pity in public. She was at his side when kids stared. She was at his side when nosy people asked one too many questions about his condition. She was at his side to stick up for him when all he could do was bitterly seethe in silence. She was at his side on the nights where he was kept up for hours on end from back pain. She was at his side to lend her strength when he had none. She was at his side to smile when he couldn't. She was at his side to support him, encourage him, assure him that even if he couldn't be a ninja, he was still a remarkable person that she was proud of. She was at his side to return the favor for how he'd taken care of her all her life - this time she was the one looking out for her sibling; she was at his side to take care of him. She was at his side to call him "Nii-san" even when he didn't call her "imouto" in return as he always had.

"Kaida, I don't know what to do," Kyra confessed to her best friend once they were in private together (a rare feat), tears brimming in her olive-green eyes. "He's not the same Nii-san. He's changed. He acts like...like I should just go. Like I should stop trying." Her voice was choked, heartbreak evident in her voice.

Kaida looked at her with serious hazel green eyes, speaking words Kyra would never forget in her lifetime, words she pondered on and tucked inside her heart.

"When hardships strike and your loved one pulls away, don't give up. Even if they never let on, that's when they need you the most."

She never left his side.

She was at his side constantly for half a year - staying at home and neglecting missions, for him.

Even though she missed his smile, his jokes, his warmth, she missed him, she never gave up on him.

But then one day, on a bright, sunny morning when she treaded up the stairs toward his room to help him up for breakfast, mentally bracing herself for another grueling and emotionally-draining day, it happened.

Kyra's footsteps stopped cold in the doorway, her hands flying to her mouth as she gave a sharp intake of breath. Tears instantly blurred the vision of Haru on his own two feet, standing up there beside the bed, all by himself. Haru's form, which had grown weaker and less muscled and a bit more scrawny, but it was undeniably still Haru. And just then, with the sunlight streaming through the window and casting a soft glow around him, Haru looked like a hero again.

Haru turned, and for the first time since the incident, smiled at her. His old, familiar, warm smile. And spread his arms out for a hug.

As Kyra dashed into his arms, careful not to make a hard impact as he was still in fragile condition. She felt sobs ripping from her throat, bottled up over the course of six months. Her brother, her real brother, was back, and he was with her again.

And then Haru spoke, his voice affectionate as it had always been before the incident. "Even when I gave up, imouto, you didn't. Thank you for not giving up on me when you were the one who knew better, who told me not to join the Anbu Blackops, but I did anyway. It was my own fault, and I'm paying the price for that now. That's why I haven't been myself, why I've been distant. I was guiltridden... and I felt like I didn't deserve your help." He paused, his voice hitching in his throat, as he drew her closer. She felt a teardrop land amidst her hair as he spoke his next words with conviction.

"Thank you.. for teaching me not to give up. I'm going to walk again, for you."

Kyra could hold in her tears no longer.