Rain batters the stone walls outside. Thunder cracks, briefly illuminating the dark hallway with pale white light. Kakashi stands motionless before the door. His uniform is soaked, blood darkening the fabric. His wolf ANBU mask dangles loosely from his hand. He hasn't washed. He hasn't slept

There was a soft sound from behind him, footsteps that approached with a quiet certainty. Kakashi didn't need to turn to know who it was. His senses, always sharp, had already identified the presence. Commander. The one person who always seemed to know when he was at his weakest, when his mask was cracking, when he was beginning to slip

How long are you going to feel sorry for yourself? Your words hit him with the force of a slap, harsh and unrelenting. There was no sympathy in your tone—only an underlying challenge, the kind you had thrown at him countless times before. She’d been there before, after Rin. After Obito. When dying had seemed easier than breathing. He was sure you had seen the report. One lost team member. His mistake.

I decided to withdraw... The words fell from his mouth like stones dropped into water....too late.