The advisor's lined face showed no softness. It was a face that had endured the sunlight shining down on Konoha in the days of the Third, and had been looked on by countless shinobi before their final, fatal missions. Hakusen shifted his weight to his heels, his chuunin vest feeling heavy against his chest.

"But I believed my role here in Konoha was that of an observer..."

"You are here because of your family influence." The elder interjected quietly, his voice as hard as stone. "War may be coming. The Sand has betrayed us in the past. It may amuse you to enjoy what our village has to offer, but we can not afford your presence if you are unwilling to contribute to our defense."

"Naturally, if conflict were to come to Konoha I would fight to protect the village and its people." Hakusen's reply came smoothly on the last of the advisor's words. "But to go on a field mission, and alone- this is the realm of the leaf's own shinobi."

"But you are the ninja selected for this mission, and it is expected you will aid us or else forfeit your welcome in the Hidden Leaf."

"I...see." Hakusen closed his eyes, evening out his breaths. Ichigo, Shangoh, Yohei, Ame, Nyoko, Arashi, Tenjou, Makoto- he couldn't bear the thought of vanishing back to the shifting desert sands, leaving behind the world he'd only begun to explore...the people he'd only begun the wild ride of falling in love with. "There is no other way then, nothing that would convince you this infantile test of loyalty is unnecessary?"

"Hakusen." The advisor pushed the scroll containing the mission orders forward with a slender wooden rod. "It is well known that you espouse a pacifism unfitting for a ninja. Fulfill your duty, or find a new career in another village."

Slender fingers took the scroll, sliding it down into Hakusen's palm where he gripped it hard. "I'll return soon, with the missive."

The old advisor sighed, rubbing his thighs through his thick robe. The infuriating young ninja- dolled up like some kind of lady of the night- had vanished with only a faintly whispering wind left to tell of his passing. The young- they had forgotten the hardships of the years of strife, become soft and strange, their minds filled with poisonous ideas that would lead Konoha down the road to ruin. A shinobi's service in life was death. The great Hokage's of the past had known that, laying down their lives for the sake of the village. It was the bones of the Hokages that formed the strong foundation of Konoha.

~*~

The mission was simple, there was no question about that. Information indicated that a messenger from the hidden rain was carrying vital documents on a fast and risky route through the country of fire. Hakusen had to intercept him and take his parcel before he could hand over the scrolls to the cloud nin's waiting for him at the border. Moving at just average speed to meet him, Hakusen would be able to attack him almost a half a day away from the meeting with the cloud shinobi. It sounded simple, a fact that was intensely upsetting to Hakusen. When was a shinobi's task ever uncomplicated? He would be going into this with his suspicions roused to their highest.

He had gathered all his equipment when the summons came. He'd been sitting at his computer, daydreaming about Makoto and wondering what he'd wear on their second date. Ichigo's soft breathing tickled the edges of his awareness, comforting in its familiarity.

The summons had come by phone, a text message telling him to prepare for combat and report to the mission dispatch center at once.

The thick green branches covered with the hidden village's emblem rustled faintly as he leapt from tree to tree. His mind was on other things than stealth. He'd considered waking Ichigo and Shangoh, but settled for blowing them both kisses across the body of his fan- hopefully the one for Shangoh would find its way to him through the vents. This was a mission for him alone, and there was no need to concern anyone else.

He ran for only a couple of hours, and as he did the moon began to fall towards the edge of the visible world where earth and heaven met. He was close now, very close to where the other shinobi would pass. His footfalls became silent, he left no breeze as he passed and no twigs or leaves fell behind him. He was stalking now, his eyes- still accented with black eyeliner- narrowed in concentration.

There was a path of sorts in this part, where the green was thin and the forest floor covered with generations of decay. The messenger would be moving quickly, more concerned with speed than stealth. Get in, go through before the enemy shinobi knew you were there and get out- that was the idea. It was a simple and effective method, but here its flaw was exposed- if agents knew to intercept the courier his position would be easy to locate compared to ninja traveling slowly and carefully, leaving no mark of their presence.

Hakusen leaned against a tree and closed his eyes. He heard the whisper of the wind through tens of thousands of leaves. The crunch of a fallen branch in the teeth of a forest animal. His heartbeat- too loud, intruding on his search. He breathed, willing himself calmer. The night air entered his clothes and seemed to stay there, chilling his skin. And then- yes, there! A whisper of a disturbance and growing closer, louder with every second. The messenger had naturally been chosen for speed- if Hakusen failed to slow or stop him he wouldn't be able to catch up.

Closer...closer...the sound was almost on top of him. He saw the shadowy form of the rain nin, and released the wire he had held delicately between two fingers.

A swarm of kunai flew through the air, striking at the messenger from all angles. Quick on his reflexes, the shinobi's twirling umbrella deflected them all- sparing him from harm. Too simple a trap to be the end of a rain ninja. But Hakusen was already falling towards him, open fans in each hand. "Kamaitachi!" A low roar split the air, and the rain nin's umbrella burst apart. Leaping back, the shinobi- his engraved forehead protector glinting in the moonlight- spat a flurry of needles at Hakusen.

Was he a ranged, weapon using fighter? That type was the easiest for Hakusen's style- his mother could devour such shinobi with little effort. "Kamaitachi!" His twin whirls of slicing air blew aside the needles, scattering them into the darkness of the woods. The rain nin leapt away again and Hakusen followed. They danced back and forth, the nimble foe avoiding his deadly wind. The rain nin hadn't attacked since- he knew thrown weapons would only be wasted. "Let's stop this fight!" He called out. "Give me the documents, and you can go- we don't have to take it any further." The enemy had his back to a tree- Hakusen had herded him in, restricting his movement into an ever tighter range.

"O-okay, you win!" The messenger’s hand dove into his jacket, producing an unmarked scroll case.

A ninja giving up his charge so easily? Hakusen didn't think the hidden rain had lost its nerve without anyone noticing. The flicker of suspicion bought him his life- his senses reached away from the courier and felt the wind moving aside, heard the whistle of the swung weapon. He bent at the waist but the enemy was too quick- a great war hammer swung for his face. He raised his fans, their metal frames catching and deflecting the blow slightly up. The fans were torn from his hands and the hammer glanced his head, sending him reeling- flipping over backwards and rolling through the leaves until he came to a stop, his face in the dirt. His vision swam and his stomach flipped over. His hands vibrated with the force of the blow. A second- there had been a second ninja shadowing the first! Two messengers, not the one he had been told he would find. He felt something wet in his hair and knew it to be blood. Harsh laughter grated in his ringing ears.

"Stupid leaf ninjas think they own the forest." That was the first courier. "Is he dead?"

"Once my Widowmaker kisses a skull, it doesn't stick its self back together." That was the other, the one who had remained hidden while his comrade drew any attention.

Please continue on- please, just go on and I'll catch up, Hakusen thought. Just go, take the scroll and go and I'll try for it again, I'll find a way to catch up- just don't come over here, just think I'm dead...please...

"Better make sure...he was pretty bendy, leaf bastard." They hadn't seen his forehead protector- bound to his upper arm. Dead leaves obscured it now. Heavy footsteps drew close, those of the hammer-wielder. Please no- Hakusen squeezed his eyes closed tight- please just walk away...

"I think he's still warm. Out like a light though." The hammer man laughed. "Can't believe he lived...one more will splatter him all over the forest floor. Mmm-mmm, leaf shinobi make shitty compost." Hakusen heard the wind groan as the hammer rose, preparing to flatten the life out of him. His head still throbbed with pain, but his senses were firmly under his control.

"Kaze no Yaiba!" He felt the wind gather in his palm, making an edge not unlike those of his kamaitachi. The blade slid smoothly through the rain nin's chest, severing his heart. Hakusen knelt on one knee, drawing the sword out as the hammer fell backwards onto the forest floor. The shinobi who had stood over him vomited a gout of blood and fell down dead, his life fluid seeping down into the earth.

From a low crouch Hakusen dashed across the short distance between himself and the other rain nin. The messenger’s face was still frozen in shock as Hakusen raised the blade to strike. The rain nin brought up a kunai and the shifting sword of wind clove it in half, and then did the same to the couriers face- his last look a look of horror as he recognized the Hidden Sand symbol on Hakusen's forehead protector. Blood coated the tree trunk he'd stood before, and his body joined his comrades in the dirt.

Hakusen released the wind and his blade vanished. Numbly, he patted through the pockets of the messenger until he found the real scroll- tucked into a secret pocket. The container was a fake, and a trap. He shifted through the leaves until he found his fans, and after tucking them away leapt into the trees, making for Konoha.

The moon had set. He had no blood on his body that was not his own- the wind had kept him dry. His hands ached, from the tips of his fingers down to his wrists. The hammer strike had been terrible, and he would have surely died from that first blow if not for his desperate dodge. But instead of one sand shinobi dying in the dark woods, two rain nin's had met their end. It was the desirable outcome if no peaceful negotiations were available, was it not? There was the duty to one's village, one's allies, and the mission. When shinobi clashed, death was almost inevitable. There was no need to regret fulfilling the oath of service sworn by the mouth and in the heart of every ninja.

When the tears came he didn't try to stop them. He cried silently, leaping from branch to branch and scattering the salty crystal droplets against the passing trees. Tears flowed into his mouth- his mental laughter sounded thin- he loved salty things. He could see the lights of Konoha through the trees, twinkling in the darkness. "It is well known that you espouse a pacifism unfitting for a ninja. Fulfill your duty, or find a new career in another village." The old man had said. He'd done his duty, but there was no triumph in it. This was the reality of ninja- a brief and grizzly end in the shadows.

He wished that he was still looking down on Konoha from the monument, still held tightly in Makoto's arms. The urge to see the MedicNin was for a moment overwhelming, and fresh tears welled in Hakusen's eyes. How many of the happy leaf genin had spilled their blood and the blood of their enemies on the field of battle? When the time came, would kind Nyoko, feisty Tenjou, lazy Arashi or cheerful Ame be able to kill or else be slaughtered by uncompromising enemies?

The hidden sand was not so large as the Leaf to be able to elevate anyone to Chuunin without placing a weight of blood on their name. Soon...would Ichigo, his Ichi-chan put his mastery of wind to use tearing the flesh off his enemies bones and leaving them bloody rag-dolls? Peace had always been the goal of the high-minded Hokage's, but how many more bodies would have to turn to food for the forest before peace laid gently on every leaf?

He dried his eyes before entering the village, creeping back to the home of the Sixth, into his bedroom and out of his uniform. The house was full of peaceful sleepers. Hakusen shielded the room from the glow of the computer screen as he dashed off a quick entry in his journal, and then fell into bed- clutching his pillow to his chest. The promised date with Makoto couldn't come any sooner. He closed his eyes and saw the face of the rain nin as his blade of wind drove through it. He turned over, confronting the hammer-wielder's body trembling away life as his sword slid out of the fatal wound. Eventually he slept, and his dreams were mercifully bland- he would remember none of them when he awoke.