I don't know how long I knelt there, weeping and quivering in the snow. But after some time I hear Kotetsu's voice.

"Get up," he demands in a clipped tone.

Shakily, I obey.

One hand gruffly grabs the front of my coat collar, the other waves out toward the barren landscape before us. "Where are we?"

"I…I...don't know…"

The ninja bares his teeth. His free hand grabs the other side of my collar. "I refuse to die here! You hear me?"

"Kotetsu," Izumo halts his friend with a hand on his arm. "Don't upset him. He won't remember anything if he's frantic."

Thankfully, Kotetsu heeds the other man's admonition and reigns in his temper. He lets go of my collar after Izumo's pointed look.

They are all watching me expectantly, so I try to explain. "But I…I really don't know. We're hopelessly off the trails. I have no idea where we could be."

Hayate tries to speak, but a coughing fit steals his words. Once he is able to breathe, he tries again. "Please, Riku. Is there anything you recognize? Anything at all, that might tell us where we are?"

"Look carefully," Iruka adds, patting my back encouragingly. "You can do it if you focus. Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths, then look again. Don't center on your fear."

I frown at him skeptically, but nonetheless turn toward the depressing scene before me. Eyes shut, I breathe deeply, trying to push aside my panic and then re-survey the landscape.

I knew it wouldn't work.

Why, there's nothing out there but craggy snow covered mountains. It's the same everywhere I look. All the same.

Well, except for that convex slope on the mountain across from us. The slopes around here are generally concave, ascending quite steeply. Now that I think about it…that odd slope and sharp peak did look familiar.

Slowly, I begin to pick out landmarks. Though I still don't know exactly where I am, it's enough that I'm able to discern the general area.

"We're by Mt. Fugiyaki," I announce. "That's in the center of the mountain range. The closest village should be east, about two hundred miles."

The shinobi exchange unreadable glances, but I know what they must be thinking. Two hundred miles. In our condition, it may as well be two thousand. What's the use of knowing where to go, when you haven't the means to get there?

"So what are we standing around for?" Kotetsu says finally. "Let's do this."

Iruka nods and links his elbow around Hayate's, providing support. "Ready when you are."

"All right, men. Two hundred miles east," Izumo affirms. "Let's move."

The trek down the mountain is easier than the hike up, but by this point every joint in my body is screaming in pain. The shinobi travel at a punishing pace and I do my best to keep up. My legs are weakening, my steps unsteady.

Hayate breaks away to hand me a canteen. "You need to drink."

I blink at him, taking in the grayish skin tone and alarmingly dark circles under his eyes and feeling somewhat ashamed of myself. Here was a man, dreadfully ill, who has to remind me, a wilderness guide, to stay hydrated.

My father used to say that in times of crisis, the true mettle of men is revealed. The way these four support one another and, despite everything, move unrelentingly forward…it makes me think that Konohans must have a will of iron.

"Will of Fire," Iruka corrects, when I mention this to him. But it seems that's all the breath he has left to spare for talking, for he explains no further.

I'm still lost in thought about that peculiar phrase when I hear Izumo sharply call out "Avalanche!"

I am roughly grabbed around the waist and tossed onto a bony shoulder. The familiar ponytail is brushing against my face. I hear the thunderous rumble of the snow…but Iruka doesn't run.

"Run!" I scream, pounding my fists weakly against Iruka's back. Craning my neck, I catch a frightening glimpse of the wall of snow bearing down on us. "Run for cover!"

Iruka takes a deep breath, crouches, then leaps into the air. The gravity-defying jump sends us soaring high above the cascading avalanche.

Unfortunately, gravity soon re-exerts its authority, and we are plummeting down toward the churning snow. Hanging on with a white-knuckled grip and eyes clamped shut, I brace for impact.

The landing is surprisingly light. Rather than sinking and being choked under the merciless white substance, Iruka is surfing the avalanche, allowing it to speed us onward in our descent down the mountain.

I catch a glimpse of the others doing the same. Kotetsu is sporting a wild grin, whooping in exhilaration. Izumo smacks his head and yells at him to pay attention.

Our terrifying ride finally comes to an end. Once the snow stops, Iruka sinks onto his knees, drooping with exhaustion. Somehow I manage to release my death grip on him and stumble backwards, landing on my rear.

"Hayate!"

I look up quickly when I hear Izumo crying the other man's name. Iruka is up and racing toward his comrade, who is standing close Kotetsu.

"Hayate tripped- he's buried somewhere!"

They begin seeking out their comrade. At least, I suppose that's what they are doing. Iruka is standing completely still, his eyes clamped shut and a look of concentration on his face. Izumo and Kotetsu have also shut their eyes, but they at least were walking around, each setting off in opposite directions.

"Found him!" Kotetsu calls. Iruka winces and clamps his hands over his ears as though the shout had been painful to hear. I rush forward to help them dig out their partner, but falter as the bandaged ninja begins forming handsigns.

Kotetsu instantly burrows underground and pops back up within seconds, comrade in arm. They wrap blankets around the shivering, snow-encrusted man and immediately begin seeking shelter.

Getting buried in an avalanche worsened Hayate's condition. His cough is much deeper, sounding suspiciously like bronchitis. He never quite seems able to catch his breath. Though he hasn't spoken a word of complaint, occasionally I notice him rubbing his chest with a pained expression. Heck, Hayate's stumbling worse than I am…and that's saying something.

After a long day spent covering a pitiful distance, our group retires into a cave for the frigid night. It's fortunate that we found shelter, since we don't have energy to spare on building a snow cave, like we did last night.

We are all desperately, achingly ravenous. Today, according to the squad leader's schedule, we get to eat again.

Izumo sighs as he opens the ration box. "This is it, men. This is the last of our food."

He hands each of us a single ration bar.

I can't help but sense a dreadful finality in the gesture.

Iruka, in spite of the solemnity, manages a smile as he comments, "Ah…the honey drizzled kind. You saved the best for last."

Hayate is the only one who doesn't respond to the absurd statement with either a grudging smile or a roll of the eyes. Instead, he stares solemnly at the small packet in his hand before setting it down on the ground. "Divide this between the rest of you," he wheezes, his voice raw and gravelly from all the coughing. "I'm not going to make it. You need it more than I do."

The other three stare at Hayate in shock. Finally, Kotetsu kneels and picks up the ration bar. He takes the sickly man's wrist and presses the food into his palm. "You aregoing to need this, Hayate, because you are going to make it. Don't you dare say otherwise. Don't you dare."

I restrain the urge to ask if Icould have his ration bar, since the man didn't seem to want it. Though I am literally starving, I don't imagine the request would go over very well.

That night, hunger makes it difficult to sleep. I've only eaten a third of my ration. Knowing that this is the very last bit of sustenance I have, I want to make it last. The others seem to have similar thoughts, as I didn't notice any of them taking more than a bite or two of their share.

Something is moving at my side, and I continue to lie still. I thought everyone else was asleep, but it seems that at least one other man is up.

Iruka soundlessly sits up, looking around before scooting closer to the slumbering Hayate. The scarred ninja stretches cautiously over the other man, stealthily withdrawing Hayate's ration box.

Disappointment settles in my gut. Not that I can't understand his actions, but I had really respected Iruka. Hunger turned him into a thief- desperate enough to steal a dying man's last meal.

I see further movement. Iruka is withdrawing his own pack. Carefully, he extracts his own ration bar and tucks it into his comrade's box.

Not desperate thievery. No, I am witnessing sacrificial giving.

The next day, we are on the move again. As we walk, I reflect on the scene from this morning, when Hayate discovered his mysterious extra ration and demanded to know whose it was. Everyone denied their involvement. Finally, Izumo insisted that Hayate accept it as an omen of good fortune and not waste such a useful miracle.

The swordsman did not buy that story, but it was clear he would never know the truth and not a one of them would take the bar from him. Iruka pointed out that an extra ration would help him keep up better. Hayate, who was frustrated about slowing down his team, argued no further. He did, however, split the bar with me, the poor civilian also bogging down the hike.

We trek for another six hours. Suddenly I collapse into the snow. For a few moments, I attempt to get up. All my efforts prove futile; my muscles refuse to obey. Finally, I relax and close my eyes. This is it.

"No…get up…" Iruka pulls me to my feet, swaying from the exertion as he struggles to keep me standing.

"I can't do it anymore." My body slumps against the scarred ninja as I state that fact. I simply cannot push myself any further.

Kotetsu pulls me off Iruka and tries to force me to accept my own weight. "Don't give up, Riku. You can't quit now!" I almost laugh because, in typical Kotetsu fashion, it sounds a lot more like he's barking an order than trying to encourage.

Izumo tiredly rubs his temple. "It's no use, Kotetsu. He can't keep up."

Beside him, Hayate doubles over into another coughing fit. He spits thickly, staining the snow with blood. "Soon I won't be able to keep going either. No-" he forestalls Izumo's protest, "We both know it's the truth. In the meantime, I'm only slowing you down. Leave Riku and me behind. When you reach the village, you can send someone back to help."

Izumo furrows his brow. As much as he dislikes the idea, he cannot deny that it's necessary. "Very well," he concedes. "Let's take a short break, then hike until we find the next shelter. You and Riku will wait there."

The squad leader pauses before adding, "Iruka, I want you to stay behind as well. Hayate is ill, and Riku…well, he's a civilian. I know I can trust them both to your care."

I see a flicker of fear in the scarred shinobi's eyes, and can't help but feel it's unfair to ask that of him. Hayate and I don't have other options; we can't keep going.

Iruka is being told to stay behind and wait. Wait… not knowing whether the other team has made it, or if they were in trouble, or if they're dead. Just… wait… his life in another's hands, left to wonder if anyone is ever going to come for him.

Iruka inclines his head. "Very well, Izumo. I'll wait."

As planned, we travel together only as far as is needed to reach the next cave. Kotetsu and Izumo help the others set up camp. Soon enough, they are ready to depart once again.

Before the squad leader exits the cave, Iruka grips the man's sleeve, momentarily halting him. "Someone will come for us, right?"

"I swear it," Izumo nods. "Even if we have to trek back here ourselves."

Waiting to die is, frankly, very boring.

I've lost all sense of time and, if Iruka hadn't marked the stone wall with his kunai every sunset, I would have thought we've been here five months, rather than five days.

I lay on my back, staring up at the rocks, far too weak to move. Hayate, ill as he is, still forces me to drink water often, disregarding whether or not I actually feel thirsty.

Every morning, Iruka staggers out of the cave and replenishes what water we've consumed the day before. He doesn't have to do this every day – we never even come close to running out- but I get the feeling he wants to make sure we always have a fully stocked supply, in case he finds himself unable to retrieve more.

Every morning, Iruka also checks on the brilliantly colored scarf he'd tied outside the cave as a signal, making sure it hasn't gotten covered by the snow.

One day, I ask him why a ninja carries such a hideously bright-orange scarf. "I thought you guys always dressed stealthily."

"It was a Father's Day gift," Iruka responds, a smile playing on his lips.

"You have children?" I ask, desiring to extend the conversation and dispel some of the mind-numbing boredom.

Iruka hesitates, as though he needs to think about it. Finally he shrugs and distantly replies, "I suppose not."

"Oh." What am I supposed to say to that?

"He's a teacher," Hayate supplies helpfully, his voice rasping. "So his kids aren't really his. Still, he's got plenty of people waiting for him at home."

Iruka's lips quirk at that. "I'm not usually gone this long. The Academy's on break for the summer, so I had the time for a long-distance mission… and I wanted to get away from the scorching Konoha weather." He chuckles wryly and rubs his hands together for warmth. "Next year, I'm think I'll volunteer to teach summer school."

The days pass and the wall is pockmarked as Iruka keeps track. We've done everything we can to pass the time, from exchanging riddles, to telling stories, to having a singing contest. The scarred ninja has a decent singing voice, but Hayate won with his raspings on love and separation because, as Iruka pointed out, "his heart was in it."

Now we're talking about what we'll do if we make it home.

"I just want to sleep in an actual bed," I mutter, acutely aware of all these days I've spent lying on cold, hard stone. "I'll even eat my wife's cooking. I swear I'll never complain about it again."

"I'm going to have a long soak in a hot spring," Iruka sighs, "while I plan out a unit on snow survival to add to the Academy curriculum. My kids aren't going to make the same mistakes we did."

"I…" Hayate's voice trails off. Finally he clears his throat, "I'm going to ask Yugao to marry me. I love her, and I need to stop dragging my feet in our relationship."

When these ninja first showed up at my company, I automatically pegged them as a band of unscrupulous, unfeeling, unprincipled mercenaries-for-hire. That is a common opinion among the people of Snow. I find that view melting away with each day I spend among these men of Fire.

The morning Iruka tries to stand, only to collapse weakly back on the ground, is the morning I realize we really are going to die after all.

Today Hayate is so delirious with fever, he keeps talking to Yugao and doesn't even urge me to drink my water.

It's pitch black. All the time. Eventually I figure that the sun probably isn't gone. The cave entrance is just buried under snow.

I wake up and my tongue feels like sandpaper. I bring the canteen to my mouth. Only to find it empty.

I drift back into consciousness. In the distance, I hear the sound of wolves howling. It's strange, since there are no wolves in this region. But then, I can't find it in me to care too much.

"They're coming," I hear Iruka murmur. Until just now, I wasn't even sure that he was still alive.

The howling gets closer. I wonder if the wolves are hungry too. Maybe they're coming to eat us. It would be a faster way to die.

There is a shuffling sound at the cave entrance as the wolves dig through the accumulated snow. Then a group of…dogs…clamber into the cave.

Dogs?

Three men follow. I wonder what's wrong with their faces. It takes me a while to realize that all three are wearing white porcelain masks with strangely painted features.

One of the masked "men" is actually a woman. Her long purple hair swings against her back as she flies to Hayate's side.

A masked, silver-haired man orders the dogs to secure the area. I'm delirious enough to hear the stubby little pug respond to him with human words. The silver-haired man then kneels to check on Iruka. He withdraws a thermos, and the heady aroma of soup wafts out when the lid is removed. He moves to press the container to the teacher's lips, but Iruka turns his head away.

"Izumo… and… Kotetsu?"

"They're just fine, Iruka-sensei," the silver haired man assures. "We caught up with them just outside a village 200 miles east of here. Bat stayed behind to treat them while we moved ahead to find you."

Assured of his comrades' safety, Iruka accepts a draught of soup.

I'm already hungrily gulping down the contents of a thermos that the third masked stranger offered me. In the back of my mind, it finally registers that these are ANBU- rumored to be the most frighteningly skilled soldiers of their village and sent only on the most vital of missions. What luck that they happened to come across our group! I vaguely wonder if it upset them, having to interrupt their task to come and rescue us.

With my belly somewhat fuller and warmth spreading through my body, I finally stop to say, "Thank you. We're so lucky you were passing by."

"Lucky?" the ANBU repeats, sounding offended. "Luck had nothing to do with it."

The silver-haired man turns his masked face toward me. "We came to retrieve our own."

With great competence, and a surprising amount of care for ruthless killing-machines, the ANBU tend to Hayate's illness, wrap us in warm blankets, and see to our nourishment and hydration. The purple haired ANBU intertwines her fingers with Hayate's as she administers medication.

Finally, it sinks in that we are really and truly being rescued. Tears brim in my eyes, and Iruka looks over in concern. "Riku, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Overwhelmed, yes, but fine. "I just…I thought for sure we were going to die, didn't you?"

The scarred ninja blinks at the question. "But Izumo swore someone would come for us… Didn't you hear him?"

Such faith in a promise from his comrade! I want to argue that in crisis situations you can't count on other people to come through for you. It just isn't as simple as that.

Looking around at the resolute ANBU, I reconsider.

For the Ninja of Fire Country, perhaps it is.