Hari was the first person they'd come to when someone was hurt. There was never a second thought.

Hari can help.

That's how it had always been.

In their small village, no one could ever miss a new addition.

At the time of the new day after a new moon, a man came up to their village, draped in a loose gray jacket. He had the glossy gentle eyes of angels that held the realms of the fae and the doe, the hues from a bustle of ferns dripping of morning dew and petrichor. Despite the look of love, he had the bleeding calloused hands of demons that controlled the scale of life and death, fingers which had scoured through the ashes of souls.

He was gray. Not black and white—but gray. That's when they knew that they welcomed a lost and broken child instead of a soldier who never seemed to leave his war behind him.

Hari was a sweet man, kind and well-mannered. He held the doors for ladies, fixed buildings along with the men, and played with the children when the adults couldn't. He was the type of person that reminded the village that there was still people out there who cared.

It was a pity, however; Hari never spoke. He only wrote in the small notebook he kept in his pocket. They never asked about it, and they told their children not to either.

However, it was hard to interact with Hari. Not that they didn't like to or because of his handicap—they loved to socialize with him... yet when they did, they couldn't help but notice the scintillas of grief hanging bitterly in his eyes of green. Lost, sad, regretful, bitter... his expressions were strained as if even a genuine smile hid more than it seemed to.

They never pushed him to tell. He would when he was ready if he ever would be.

Besides being a man who never found a way back home, he was someone who never gave up on anyone. That made him special—even more special after they found out about what he could do.

Taka, the adventurous girl of a quiet family, was hardly ever satisfied with who she was supposed to be: a farmer without the sense of action and anticipation, stuck tending to crops all day and for the rest of her life. With hushed parents that couldn't comprehend her thirst for the thrill, she set off to be what drove her to get out of bed each and every day...

Only to come back carried by the men of her village, broken legs and all, hanging onto dear life. It was utterly horrifying, and even more because she wasn't in shock. She could feel every single spike of pain bolting through her.

The village didn't have a physician or healer and the next village was miles away. Parents traumatized with their child in agony, they vowed to take her to find someone who could help but were stopped midway by Hari who stood silently by the doorway of their small home. No one had seen him arrive.

Wordlessly, Hari crossed over to the bed where Taka lay, limbs twisted in ways they should never go. The girl was scared—so utterly scared that tears had dried along her cheeks. A whimper had escaped her lips and Hari, with vivid verdant eyes flashing with mercy, smiled bitterly. Hari placed a hand on her forehead, combing gently through her locks of deep timber and mouthed you'll be okay. You're a strong girl, while the agony slowly faded from her eyes.

Her parents stared in awe mixed with horror when they witnessed Taka's legs turning back normally. The girl could hardly believe it herself. While still in shock after having her bones mended back together, Hari took out a vial before applying the liquid the gashes along her arms. The wounds sealed back together, almost like magic. While this happened, Hari never ceased to stop brushing away her tears.

With one last quick check, Hari turned to Taka's parents, who had their mouths agape. He slipped his notebook out his pocket and wrote, |Let her rest for a couple of days before allowing her to walk again. The physical damage may be healed, but the psychological wounds may have not. I'll come to check on her tomorrow.|

That was all the village needed to tell Hari that if he wanted a home, he was welcome here with open arms, and never once did they ask about his ability. They owed him too much.

So forth, Hari unofficially became their doctor, or medic, or whatever they called him. The latter never seemed to mind with names.

Quiet peaceful months passed and never once did a missing shinobi come across their humble village. It was strange but they didn't question their luck and peace.

Awakening the man beneath the covers was the gleaming beams of sunlight spilling past his window and through the curtains. Dawn's light illuminated his entire room in a bright halcyon glow.

Hari opened his eyes, drowsily, staring up at the ceiling as if to contemplate whether to even get up and be productive or not. He lay there on his bed for a few moments, arm draped across his eyes before he slipped out of his covers. Distant songs of birds and conversations of the village thrummed through the streets. It was slightly comforting to listen to. Casual conversations that didn't hold the contempt of intent.

Bustling through his wardrobe and choosing to wear a casual outfit, Hari exited his small cottage while stretching out in a yawn, sporting an ashen hoodie with black sweatpants.

He padded down the streets with his hands inside his pockets, silently humming to the tune of birds.

"Hari-san! Good morning!"

"Hey Hari-san!"

The latter turned his head to the two running children passing by. Instead of taking out a piece a paper to write a greeting, Hari just waved back and continued on his way.

"Where you heading, Hari-kun?" a voice spoke out from nearby.

Hari stopped and inclined his head to the woman farming crops in her small garden. He slipped out his notebook and wrote, |Herb-gathering. There are various plants in this area I haven't encountered yet. I'm thinking of testing some to discover their uses.|

"Well," the woman said, cordially, smiling warmly, "I wish you luck. Be careful too; don't get lost."

|Thanks.|

While he was searching through the woods for herbs, one lonely crow perched itself on a nearby branch, its black gaze pinned on his back as it stilled. That's when the familiar voices came to be as he passed a bundle of Statice.

"You took up a new name again, huh?" the voice goaded.

He ignored them. It had been a while since he acknowledged their voices, and he's not about to now. All they did was taunt him cruelly, and as sad as it was, he had gotten used to that. There was no use getting mad about it anymore.

"Funny, how you abandoned all of us when you couldn't 'take' it anymore."

"We waited for you to return, but you never did."

"You missed out on so many things. Birthdays, holidays, weddings—FUNERALS."

Hari bent down to harvest a Lupin flower dancing to the call of the breeze as the glow of vivid violet awakened from the kiss of sunlight. The familiar voice of an elderly man with unkempt tawny locks and sharpened eyes of wolves spoke to him, but unlike the others, he was affable and quiet—understanding as painful as it was.

"I know that you raised him until he could take care of himself. Thank you for that. I know it was hard for you to leave him and all of them behind."

The woman who had lived as much as she had died, vibrant locks of swirling orange fire and eyes of matching verdant green murmured soothingly, "You didn't do anything wrong, dear. Don't let them think you did."

Hari closed his restless eyes to her familiar consoling voice and lost himself to sleep among the life thriving within the roots as the flowers buds bloomed to the sound of his serene breathing.

Hari returned to the village with a bottomless bag filled with herbs, but as he entered the village, something tugged inside him. A person that didn't seem to belong here conversed with the village head at the very step of his cottage.

Slowly walking toward his cottage with a questioning eyebrow and cautious steps, Hari eavesdropped on their conversation, trying his utmost best to be undetected. Although it utterly failed when Hari spotted a knowing gleam in the strange man's eyes.

"—is he?" the man asked curiously. He looked like a shinobi, with a leaf hitai and a masked face and—oh dear Merlin, it was a shinobi. He bore spiked gray ashen hair that couldn't be tamed and a jonin vest.

Bubbling with dread, Hari's stomach wasn't feeling so well.

The village head wore an expression of suspicion and worry. "It appears that he's not home yet. I heard from Asa that he went to collect herbs," the elder murmured. "He should be—ah, Hari!"

The shinobi turned to the approaching figure of Hari. Arching an eyebrow, he asked, "You're Hari?"

The latter wrote down, |You sound surprised.| Hari kept a look of nonchalance.

"Maa," he began. "I thought you'd be taller."

Hari thought he'd feel angry at the implied insult but kept quiet. |Sorry I couldn't meet your expectations. May I ask why you wanted to meet with me?| For Merlin's sake, Hari thought he had kept a low profile, and now a Konoha Shinobi is asking for him?

"The Hokage grew curious about the mysterious healer," he explained tersely as he reached his hand out for a handshake. He was probably smiling. "Hatake Kakashi."

Hari only glanced at his hand briefly before he wrote, |What kind of rumors? I'm not really up-to-date with gossip and such. Is it anything bad?| Hopefully, the rumors weren't anything nearly as bad as the Daily Prophet's twisted articles.

Hatake didn't seem to be bothered and his hand came back to his side. He elaborated simply and serenely, "Nothing bad. Recent gossip talks about a man from a small village on the outskirts of the Land of Fire who can heal without the need of Chakra. You're quite famous, Flightless Fae."

Taking in the information, Hari relaxed his tense shoulders and slouched. He sighed in distress as he ran a hand through his unkempt tangle of locks. Hatake asked in amusement with a chuckle, "What? Don't live up to your title?"

Hari gave him a blank deadpan stare. |Flightless Fae? What kind of lame name is that? A child could do better.|

Smiling beneath his mask, Hatake remarked, "The women made the alias and it's not lame."

|Liar.| Hari frowned. |But what does the Hokage want with me?|

"To employ you and protect you."

Hari blinked in perplexion. He took a brisk breath of air. |What?|

"You can't employ Hari!" the village head intervened. His eyebrows were knitted in offense and disbelief. "He is our village's healer. You can't deprive us of this."

"As much as his position here aides your village incredibly, he is not safe here," Hatake reasoned and with the knitting of his eyebrows, he appeared genuinely concerned. Maybe he was. "News of his skills are circling, which makes him a target for kidnapping. Shinobi from all over could potentially come to take him away. For those shinobi, Hari-san is nothing but a tool, you should know that, Etsuji-san."

Etsuji looked flustered. "But—"

|I'm staying here.|

Hatake and Etsuji both appeared taken off guard when Hari shoved his notebook right in front of their faces.

Hari sharpened his gaze as he narrowed his eyes. Lush green eyes melted into a dark murky evergreen. |This is my home and as much as I look weak— helpless—and short...|—Hatake winced—|I can take care of myself. Besides, I have many patients here. Daily medication for the elders, fever and cold medicine, poultices that they need. I can't just get up and abandon my duties because I'm apparently in danger of kidnapping.|

The green-eyed man kept writing faster and faster (the quicker he got, the more scared they became), his quill's tip digging into the paper. |Hatake-san, I am not leaving. You have no right to take me against my will.|

"Hari-san—"

The latter shot him a stern glance to convey the words just bloody shut up before unlocking his cottage door and slipping inside briskly. He turned to Hatake and Etsuji before bowing slightly with his notebook raised up. |Goodbye and have a nice evening, Hatake-san, Etsuji-san.| He closed the door and ignored the look of surrender of the shinobi's face.

When the wooden door separated them, Hari faced his back to it and slid to the floor in a defeated manner. Burying his face in his hands, he sighed in utter frustration while he rubbed his temples in hope to rid himself of his migraine.

Hatake's voice rang past the door. "I'll come by tomorrow."

'So much for staying under the radar.'

The baby chair in the corner rocked.

It was the dead of the night when Hari suddenly snapped up in alert with six years of training bustling through his head in one mere second. His detection wards were triggered which wasn't a good sign. Perhaps Hatake was right.

Hari swung his legs off the bed and looked around the room where no one was visible. There was a presence, but his heart never accelerated. Before deciding to do anything else, Hari grabbed his notebook and quill off his nightstand, placed it on his lap and waited patiently for the presence to reveal itself.

It didn't take too long.

Blinking once, his bed creaked as a new weight came made itself known behind him. A chilling blade pressed against his throat and a thin line of red cut shone to the glimmer of moonlight. "Don't resist or you're dead."

Hari merely sighed which made the intruder confused. Quickly, Hari wrote, |Instead of threatening me in the middle of the night, you could've knocked. I'm not a fan of midnight abductions.|

The intruder peered over Hari's shoulders to read his words where moonlight spilled over the notes. Hari continued, |Neither do I like having a kunai against my throat. Please release me.|

"And how do I know you won't try to escape?" the voice snarled, its tone coarse.

|...First off, get it together. I'm a villager, you're a shinobi. We're in a small room with one exit. I have no weapons, you do. So unless you think I can kill you with a feather, I'd prefer you release me,| he scrawled, gesturing to his quill. |You have a request?|

Although reluctant, the kunai retreated slowly and the shinobi stepped off his bed and stood by the bedside, staring him done. Hari matched his gaze steadily. The moonlight caught his face in a pale white glow.

Tanned skin stained with scars and dark ashen locks fell by his face where a slit hitai of Kusagakure was tied to his head. That's why he didn't use the door; he's a missing-nin (Still, even if he wasn't a missing-nin, he wouldn't have used the door anyway). Hari wondered how he got into this mess in the first place. Ah yes, Taka. His Saving-people-thing always obliterated his plans and wishes.

"My friend. Hunter-nins came," the man said tersely as there was nothing else to say.

Hari nodded in comprehension. |Is he badly injured?|

"I'm afraid I can't say," the shinobi breathed out in distress as he looked down at his feet in shame. "Poisoned Senbons got him incapacitated and his strong immune system is the only thing keeping him from dying. Please, help him. I know I'm a missing-nin, but I can't lose him." The scintilla of despair swirled in the shinobi's eyes and Hari's breath hitched for that pitiful expression was so recognizable. "He's my best friend."

Before he could realize it, Hari was swallowed helplessly by the splintered remains of memories sparking like fire through his line of vision and was left to the darkest corners of his mind which weren't exactly dark.

"What is it?"

"They call us the bloody Golden Trio, mate."

"Argh, Rita Skeeter still thinks I won't blackmail her again!" Laughter clouded the air as sunshine spilled past the curtains of white and gold. Fiery locks of orange and a familiar grin that never lost its love along with wavy hair of tawny and eyes hazed with the knowledge of a thousand books.

|I'll help... on two conditions.|

The man's eyes flashed with uncertainty but were soon placed by gratitude and determination. "What are they?"

Hari met his gaze steadily. |First, no names. And second, after this, we haven't met. I've been in my cottage sleeping without interruptions; you and your friend passed this village without stopping.|

The shinobi's eyes widened in understanding before he nodded in agreement. "Your conditions are accepted. We'll be by the river north of here, upstream."

And then he was gone.

With a grumble of silent words, Hari slipped out of bed and ventured out his room to the corridor. He went into his office where most of his research and experiments occurred and snatched the necessary treatments for potential poison before throwing them into his canvas bag.

He wore his ashen jacket and slipped on his shoes. With a Konohagakure Shinobi here, it would be best to undetectably get to the location without openly walking there as he could potentially be followed.

Crack.

The wards pulsed as the cottage became empty.

Appearing by the riverside, Hari looked about until he saw a pacing silhouette upstream. Hiking up, Hari met the missing-nin's gaze which spiked with peril before relaxing. Another shape lay frozen by his feet. Without as much as a breath of preparation, Hari bent down to examine his patient.

Deathly pale with thin hoarse breaths, lay a man with short timber locks. Hari took his pulse by putting two fingers near his neck, and while undetected, he reached out to the unconscious man's core to delve for the poison.

In his blood stream cycled a thread of poison in the process of breaking down the man's immune system. This was extremely lethal poison and he didn't have the potion for it. Feigning some tests, he turned to the missing-nin who had a worried expression on his face.

Shinobi shouldn't show their emotions that easily, but this situation was understandable. "Well?" the man asked as if he was almost out of breath. He was swaying.

Hari glanced at his patient. |I have the antidote,| he stated bluntly and added in his mind, 'Not exactly.'

"Thank the Six Paths!"

Hari reached into his canvas bag and pulled out a clear vial of liquid (which was just a vial of water... but the missing-nin didn't need to know that). He glanced at the shinobi for a nod of approval before he poured the water into the patient's mouth. Hari simultaneously allowed his abilities to take over his mind. A pure rippling image of a white nebulous mist popped up mentally as it sang a paean of a panacea.

'Help him.'

'Why?'

'Because even a villain has a story. Help him.'

So it did. By his command, the white haze dove into the unconscious man's bloodstream to fight and rid his blood of poison. Slowly but surely, the patient's pulse became stronger and his breathing returned to a normal breath.

However unlikely it was, the patient's eyes managed to flicker. The missing-nin almost tackled him but seemed to resist the urge.

The patient's eyes were a milky blue hue—such a familiar milky blue that invoked so many distant memories of laughter and joy and family and—

"Green," the patient man murmured as he met the healer's eyes.

Hari couldn't help but flinch. The missing-nin seemed to notice and opened his mouth to ask, but Hari cut him off by standing up abruptly. |The poison is no longer in his system, but I'd muse that your friend would've woken up a bit later instead of a few moments after. Let him rest for a day or two.|

The missing-nin bent by his friend to help him sit up. He looked to Hari in gratitude. "Thank you, H—"

Hari put a finger to his lips. He allowed his hand to fall to his side as he tilted his head in confusion. |Sorry, do I know you?|

The man caught on and glanced at his friend. "I'm afraid not. We're just passing through."

Hari smirked. |Well, I wish your journey is a safe one.|

"Thanks."

That night, beneath the cover of the shadows and the gentle glow of the moon, Hari learned that maybe not all missing shinobi have to be evil. They're just humans who took a path they thought they would thrive in best.

"Hari-san, this is Team 7."

Blinking himself awake despite how exhausted he was, Hari bit into his bread, scrutinizing the three little midgets that stood at the other side of his table. He's been meeting a lot of people lately and doesn't know if that's a good thing.

A short boy with spikey golden hair cheerfully announced with such a blinding grin Hari had to squint, "I'm Uzumaki Naruto, the future—"

"My name is Haruno Sakura," a pretty pink-haired girl intercepted smoothly, smiling warmly as Naruto pouted at being interrupted in the background.

At the side, a brooding boy with ebony hair said bluntly, "Uchiha Sasuke."

Accepting his fate to the hands of the script, Hari smiled warmly and scribbled a hello and a blooming flower onto his notebook. |It's nice to meet you.| He still shot a look at Hatake which made the latter scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

Haruno leaned forward onto the table, her eyes flashing with excitement. "Hari-san, is it true that you can heal any injury?!"

Hari gave an inquisitive look and shrugged. |I don't think that's true. I'm confident about my abilities, but I don't think people should overestimate them.|

The girl was disappointed; Hari could tell.

"Hey, hey!" Uzumaki exclaimed, drawing Hari's attention to him. The boy was too bright, and Hari felt himself distancing. "Can you show us? Kakashi-sensei you don't need chakra!"

He shrugged and scribbled, |I'd rather not. I don't want someone cutting themselves for a demonstration.|

"Awww..."

Hari sheepishly smiled. 'Declining kids are more tiring than I remembered.' He suppressed a sigh.

"To the point of our business," began Hatake.

Hari closed his eyes and scratched the back of his neck before finishing his bread. He took out 20 ryō and placed it on the table, meeting the gaze of the baker and nodded knowingly. He stood up from his seat but Hatake tried to keep the conversation going (although it was one-sided.)

"The Hokage wants a private audience with you."

Now that snatched the healer's attention.

Hari froze. Black eyes meet green. |Why?|

Hatake said calmly, "He anticipated that you didn't want to come to Konoha, so if you didn't, he at least wanted to meet you, Hari-san." And maybe even persist you to stay, he added to himself silently.

Although he wanted to avoid it, Hari contemplated his options. If he left, the wards would still be up and he could show the Hokage that he wasn't a threat or neither defenseless. If he stayed, the shinobi would keep bothering him. He found himself sighing for the—he doesn't know... fifteenth time today?

|How long would I have to stay?|

Scintillas of victory and relief hid briefly in Hatake's eyes. "Around a week or so, and if you consider the travel time, maybe a week and a half. Maybe longer considering breaks and mealtimes."

The healer quirked an eyebrow. |Are you implying I'm unfit?|

"Of course not."

|So you say.|

Changing the subject, Hatake questioned nonchalantly, "How long will it take you to pack?"

|An hour, but I have to pre-make some medication for two weeks, so another hour,| Hari scrawled.

"Alright," Hatake agreed with triumph, and Hari wanted to smack the rising smile off his face. "We'll come to your cottage in three hours so you can say goodbye."

Hari grumbled with pursed lips as he shrugged in agreement before walking away, shoulders tense with frustration.

"Bye Hari-san!" Haruno called from afar.

Uzumaki exclaimed with the same blinding grin, "See you later!"

Hari didn't turn to wave back.

"You seem troubled, Master."

Hari didn't reply to it as he labeled all the containers and vials with names and instructions in a brisk collected manner. He gathered up all of them and exited his cottage to place all of them by his outside shelf for pickup. His wards directed people with ill-intent somewhere else entirely to avoid theft.

Harry saw the ebony umbra concealed in the shadow of his roof, its silhouette like a haunting ghost amidst the peace. The atmosphere whistled as the warm breeze was zapped away, leaving frost to form on the windows.

Hari saw his breath as he sighed.

"Are you worried about the Professeur?" it questioned, tone blank without the company of curiosity. It possessed a different motive; it always did. The short healer didn't bat an eyelash.

'No,' is what Hari chose to think. 'There's nothing for him or me to be concerned about. He's the current leader of Konoha. I'm just a wandering healer of nowhere. It's as simple as that.' He re-entered his house with silent steps before shutting the door behind him.

It rasped softly, "...I assumed you wanted to stay under the radar."

Hari snapped at him internally, 'I did.' He quieted down to a hiss, 'But you act like I could've merely watched Taka suffer.'

"You could've done it and oblivated all the witnesses."

Mental silence.

"You wanted to be seen again."

'That matters how?' Hari rolled his eyes indignantly as he stood with hands on his hips while standing in the middle of the corridor. Grumbling mentally, he told it, 'So what?'

"So you care; so you're lonely." The shadow shifted into the corridor.

Hari scavenged through his supply shelves for tiny sample potions and neatly placed them into his canvas bag when he found the correct ones. The bag never gained any weight. After getting all of his clothing and such, he slid his ashen jacket on and lay on the couch, arm over his eyes.

'I've always cared. I'd assume you knew that from the beginning.'

"And you know that it'll destroy you once more." The hidden warning hanging in the tense air was clear enough.

'Mind I ask the reason with all the small talk? I often find you terse and blunt most of the time.'

"Just trying to make you see that in every life you build, it ends in the same demise. You'll watch them fade."

The healer pursed his lips and grounded his teeth. 'Take your leave, Death.'

"Yes, Master."

The niveous winter atmosphere ceased and warm air clouded the room as if it had never left in the first place. Feet dangling over his couch's arm, Hari skimmed along the gold ring curled around his index finger where the obsidian stone lay in wait.

It began to rain.

"Is everything you need in that bag?"

|Yeah.|

Hari and the Shinobi soon approached Konoha's gates at a relaxed comfortable pace. The noiret couldn't help but feel overwhelmed as the floor swayed beneath his feet. The walls were high and intimidating. He didn't feel the slightest bit small though, but the sense of safety suffocated him. The place's atmosphere reminded him too much of the tall stone castle where every generation grew up in.

Haruno—or Sakura as she liked to be called—peered over to him when she noticed how a lost look clung to the healer's eyes. Her lips were pursed in concern. "Are you alright, Hari-san?" she inquired, tilting her head as they treaded side by side.

The latter steadily met her gaze, smiled slightly and nodded. Sakura nodded back and returned her face to ahead. She began to hum away. The song wasn't recognizable.

When they arrived by the gates, Hatake greeted the two guards cordially with a few exchanged words before he turned to introduce Hari. The latter sweated when he met their gazes because it's been far too long since he's had to make a first impression as a well-known person. Was it bad that he just wanted to be irenic and a hermit?

The two guards' eyes widened and they began to gape.

Uncertain, the healer nervously waved with a faltering smile.

"You mean the Flightless Fae!?"

Hari blinked in blandness. |I'd rather you not use that term. It sounds quite strange to me. Feel free to call me Hari without a suffix.|'More like a bloody embarrassing name,' he added silently to himself.

Hagane, the one with the bandaged around his face, sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Ah, sorry," he ruefully apologized. "I'm Hagane Kotetsu and that's my friend Kamizuki Izumo."

|It's a pleasure to meet you,| Hari wrote, |If I might ask, how did someone even think of such a name?|

Kamizuki and Hagane exchanged a glance, but the former spoke first with an amused tone, "The rumors say that you're a fairy among humans because of your green eyes and a down-to-earth kind of person."

Hari gave a deadpanned look; he wasn't amused. |Really?|

"And that you use magic to help the ill!" Hagane added as if that was supposed to make it better.

Kamizuki elbowed Hagane in the gut as the latter bellowed with mirth at him, "Abracadabra!"

The healer used all his willpower to not flinch at the term as it sounded so familiar to another word. Verdant green light meeting horror clouded eyes and collapsing bodies without the shed of blood flickered in his mind.

Hagane asked curiously, "So how do you heal your patients?"

Before Hari can write something else, Hatake intervened and said, "Kotetsu, I think that's enough," shutting him down. "Team 7 has to escort Hari-san to the Hokage." The healer suppressed an exhale of relief. Lying never was a specialty.

The two gate guards looked disappointed but didn't try to persuade them any longer. They quipped their farewells and 'welcome to Konoha Hari-san's as Team 7 and healer entered Konoha.

For Hari, the nostalgia struck him in the chest, hard, and it was sickening. There were so many people, sporting all sorts of clothing and styles. They smiled and they laughed and they were happy and—

The emerald-eyed man knew that he'd never be a part of a home ever again.

On their way to the Hokage tower, Sakura and Naruto constantly pointed around to many shops they passed with a snippet of information, like: "This bakery has the best sweetbreads!" and "That ramen place is amazing!"

Hari was pulled into their voices as one falls deeply in love with a melody but was cut off when for a split second, he met eyes with the brooding member of Team 7, Uchiha Sasuke who was peering back at him from over his shoulder.

Before anyone knew what was happening, the world went spinning before all went silent as everything and everyone froze in place. The birds in the sky hung against the sky like puppets on strings from the clouds. Hari narrowed his eyes at the boy who was unaware of the Search.

The clock's hands didn't move, stuck on two and eleven.

Delving deep into the core of the boy using only his eyes, Hari witnessed the nebulous burgundy flow of vengeance clouding the young boy's vision with the threads of grief and sorrow braided along with it. Inky monochrome drops of memories stained his black core with the corpses of crimson and cold.

When all appeared hopeless, Hari took a shuddering breath in relief when he saw the very heart of his soul. Still niveous white, but slightly murky and fighting its way through the betrayal and shadows, Uchiha Sasuke still had time.

The clock's hands begun to move. A hand struck twelve. Five crows ascended to the sky.

"Do you think he has a chance?"

'Yes.'

"So will you save him?"

'No. That's up to him.'

The Hokage patiently waited by his desk, eyeing the piles of paperwork by the room with disdain. He pursed his lips as he thought of all the time he would have to spend on it. The position of Hokage included many things, like trivial matters or meetings, or threats. That reminded him; the Flightless Fae was almost here.

Hiruzen breathed out a puff of smoke. His ANBU told him that they had only just arrived with the man. The rumors of the man was—well, strange. For one, the rumors claimed the man didn't require chakra, as when he healed, he didn't use it. There was no green glow to his hands. One story said that the man brewed potions for medical purposes.

Whatever who—or what—this Flightless Fae was, he was undoubtedly someone who'll bring some sort of trouble. Hiruzen just hoped that it wasn't too serious. Otherwise, the Hokage would have to take care of it, not Hiruzen who chatted warmly to Konoha's future kings with a genial smile.

He was abruptly zapped out of his thoughts when the door opened, revealing Team 7 and the Flightless Fae. Naruto offered the usual optimistic greeting with a—dear Sage, he needed to wear sunglasses because that grin was too bright.

After the blond settled down with a hush from Sakura, Kakashi ran through the completed mission drills and said he'd file in a mission report later. That's when the man was introduced.

The Flightless Fae took a small step forward bowed slightly, showing Hiruzen that he was polite and well-mannered, yet the bow wasn't exactly a bow. More like a slight incline of the body with a nod of respect. While Hiruzen had expected the man to wear his heart on his sleeve, he didn't.

When the healer straightened, the Hokage got a clearer look of him. The man sported a gray coat along with black ebony pants. A canvas bag was loosely hanging off of his shoulder. He bore unkempt ebony locks and pale skin where faint lines of scars could be seen. However, what the rumors was definitely correct about were his eyes.

'Eyes of angels that held the realms of the fae and the doe.'

Lush and vivid greens, glossy with the kindness by the reflection of the sunlight, the eyes which he bore didn't betray the speculations. He was a good man.

|Hello, Hokage-sama. My name is Hari. It's a pleasure to meet you,| Hari greeted cordially on his notepad and a small smile plastered itself on his lips.

Hiruzen smiled back. "And you. I must apologize you had to come with such short notice."

Hari shook his head. |Not at all,| he persisted, but Hiruzen saw the brief flash of frustration and mirth flicker in his green orbs. |But may I ask why you'd like to accommodate me here in Konoha?|

"Well, Hari-san"—The latter wrote, |No suffix please|—"Hari-kun, there have been speculations circling around the Land of Fire, and possibly the other nations."

Hari gave a look of despair and sighed. Hiruzen surpressed a chuckle. He scribbled, |I've heard,| with a sad face.

"While it is not necessarily a bad thing, it isn't exactly a good thing either," Hiruzen explained with a serious tone. His gaze sharpened as the healer rose an eyebrow. The Hokage couldn't tell if it was feigned or not.

"Human traffickers are known to be all over the five nations. A gifted healer like you could possibly be abducted; you are not safe in your village."

Scintillas of anger spiraled in Hari's eyes, but it ebbed away when he took a breath. However, it didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room. |I may look frail, but I am far from defenseless.|

"And I don't doubt that," Hiruzen calmly reasoned, but he wasn't completely truthful. The healer suppressed a narrow of his eyes. "But even a strong shinobi can be taken when their guard is down. I'm offering protection for you here in Konoha. If you continue to stay in your village, you could possibly be abducted while harming some of the other villagers."

Hari suppressed biting his lip.

"This man does have a logical point."

'I know. And it's kind of frustrating.'

"You can't keep low forever, Master."

'You don't have to tell me things I already know. Hush hush now, the adults are talking.'

"You don't have to make a decision now," the Hokage said reassuringly and Hari couldn't help but see a man boring a beard of white and the spectacles of glass. He turned his chair a bit to the left. "After such a journey, you must be tired. I'm sorry to have kept you for a while. Team 7 will escort you to your temporary accommodation. We'll meet later this week."

Hari nodded slightly in agreement before bowing politely. Straightening as Team 7 bid the Hokage farewell, they led him out of the room. The healer released a silent breath he didn't know he was holding.

When Team 7 left Hari to his apartment nearby, the first thing the latter did was slump on his bed. The unfamiliar scent of lavender filled his noise as Hari sunk into cushions, losing himself to the distant voices out on the streets. The soft chatter of citizens sang him to sleep as knowing he wasn't alone in a world of war was extremely comforting.

A sky drenched in fire, clouds stained in cotton candy and violet, golden tangerine light sifted past the translucent curtains and spilled onto the bed. Beside him where another warm body was supposed to be, the empty space chilled him to the bone. Hari shivered and curled up tightly to himself. His hand reached out for another that he could never find again.

"I love you," she said. Her eyes sparkled with broken love as he spiraled her graying hair between his fingers which was untainted by the wrinkles she herself bore. "Forever but don't be afraid to love again."

The mirror caught the sight of rain on a clear day.

A young hand entwined with an old.

"I'll wait for you, for as long as it takes."

"Even centuries?" he murmured.

She smiled. "Millenniums."

The mirror broke to shards.

When he awoke, dawn hadn't even arrived, but the nightmares were enough to keep him out of bed. Donning a loose ashen plaid shirt—one that reminded himself of longing—and black pants, he shook out all of his anxiety as he splashed water onto his sweaty face. He brushed his teeth and took a glance at his hair before shrugging.

He approached the door but even before he touched the handle, he stopped. The songbirds called to him. Instead of taking the normal way down, he took to the skies. Swinging open his window, he stared down to the streets below. Two stories down.

With a sigh and a push of motivation, he jumped.

The air throttled at him, unraveling the tangles of his unkempt locks and awakened the Marauder within his veins. Smiling, nightmares long forgotten to the demon locked in its cage, Hari soared.

The next meeting was three days after.

"Where did you come from? Villagers from the place you were currently staying at say you arrived only a few months ago."

|I came from the Land of Rivers. I like to keep my life peaceful; uneventful and quiet,| Hari shrugged.

"No family members joined you?"

|My mother came from a foreign land. She raised me after my father died, but passed away about a year ago.|

"I'm sorry for your losses."

|S'okay, he died before I can even remember and Mother knew it was her time.| Hari pursed his lips. |Stuff like these things happen.|

The Hokage's eyes gleamed with emotion and that's when Hari knew playtime was over. He asked, leaning forward in curiosity, "If you don't mind me asking, do you know the range of your skills?"

Hari glanced to the side without turning his head nervously. He shrugged once more. |Not really,| he wrote. |Fortunately, I haven't needed to test my boundaries yet.|

"I thought you knew what you were doing! I thought - would have told something worthwhile!"

"Did my brother even mention me or my sister's name?"

"You didn't notice, Master, but all this time, you've been manipulated and controlled like a doll tied to a string."

"I've heard that you don't use chakra when you heal your patients," Hiruzen remarked in mild awe and relaxed his crossed arms on the table. While he was good at it, Hari knew that expression on that face. He's seen it on too many others. "Is it a Kekkai Genkai that was on your mother's side?"

The mute shrugged as he scrawled onto his notepad, |I think so. Mother never really went into depth about it. She only taught me how to use it.|

The Hokage leaned back into his chair, loosening up his arms. Slightly smiling, he ruefully apologized, "Sorry for the questions. I didn't mean for that to be an interrogation. Curiosity has always gotten to the better of me."

|It's alright; I understand. Curiosity is a trait of everyone,| Hari scribbled briskly before returning a lenient smile. |Either way,| Hari began as he rolled his shoulders, |I think it's my time to leave, Hokage-sama. Konoha has been a lovely place to stay at, but unfortunately, I have patients back at the village to take care of.| (At the village, not at home, because a home was where—)

The Hokage frowned when he finished reading the small scrawl and he reasoned, "Our offer still stands, Hari-kun. You would be well-protected here and you won't be endangered. Konoha is a strong village."

Well-protected.

Endangered.

And that did it.

A raging pulse of fury spilled into his veins as he pursed his lips, suppressing the curl of a snarl. Frustration bled into the paper as he carved his words, |You mean my services would be well-used here.| There was no tact in sight.

The Hokage eyes widened in surprise at his abrupt change of attitude after realizing he had said something wrong and shook his head in disagreement. He began in a reassuring manner, "Hari, that is not what I implied. I only—"

|I mean no disrespect, Hokage-sama,| Hari wrote as quick as a bolt of lightning. The atmosphere went heavy as each stroke of his quill deepened, the black ink growing more dark and opaque. |But I am not a tool, nor a doll.| The quill never ran out of ink.

The Hokage appeared troubled as he leveled Hari's gaze equally. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause offense. I had no intent for it to sound that way, Hari-kun, I assure you."

Hari suppressed a huff but his anger simmered down. He took out a small pocket knife from his belt, causing the ANBU in the room to tense, but Hari brushed off their reactions and merely slashed it across his palm, drawing blood.

Confused, the Hokage alertly began, "What are you-"

Hari ignored him too and brought out a vial from his canvas bag. He uncapped it and unreluctantly poured the clear liquid onto his wound. In awe, the shinobi in the room were drawn to the healing process as the cut closed up as if it was regenerating.

Hari glanced up to the Hokage and placed the half-full vial onto his desk, fighting the urge to slam it down onto the wood to make his point absolutely clear. |I am not staying here, but I'm willing to provide my potions and such for Konoha.|

Reaching forward to grab the vial, the Hokage studied it under a keen eye.

|Your medics won't be able to replicate it. It's called Dittany, grown from my own private gardens. Doesn't require chakra and can heal shallow moderate wounds. Quite handy if you don't know medical jutsu.|

"Do you have other different potions like these?" asked the Hokage as his interest spiked, straightening in his chair.

|Yes,| Hari smiled. He wondered if his Potions Master was proud of him, which was entirely unlikely. |Potions from burns and blood-replenishing remedies, or cough and hiccup cures.| He showed his notepad before continuing, |and even—|

Hari stopped writing. The eerie silence made the room's occupants slightly uncomfortable.

The Hokage quirked an eyebrow while the mute paused. "Is something wrong?"

Hari's gaze stayed on the notepad. He took a breath in. |For the war veterans, potions to let all the nightmares to disappear for one dreamless night.| Reaching into his bag, Hari slipped out a small medical tray containing around a couple of small doses of Dreamless Sleeps. |Consider this a gift for your hospitality.|

Hari bowed to the Hokage respectfully, and exited the room without another word or glance back.

A silence reigned upon the place he left.

He was lying up against the wall of his cottage on his balcony when the bloody message came. He swore about how the only thing he had ever wished for in this bloody life is some bloody peace and quiet.

The eagle descended from the cerulean skies and perched itself onto the wooden railings with a screech. It bellowed something when Hari didn't immediately move to go read the message tied to its leg.

Comprehending its threat dancing like fire in its eye, Hari sighed in surrender and reached out to untie the message from its leg. It took off immediately after without much of a sound. The mute sat there, procrastinating reading the letter as he gazed nonchalantly at the envelope. Giving himself a soft sleep to the cheek, he tore it open.

|Hari-kun,| it read. (Hari approved of the calligraphy skills) |I hope you're doing well. As good as it isn't, many shinobi have taken a great liking to your Dreamless Sleep, although the overdose warnings have been taken into account. I realize it hasn't even been a couple of months after Konoha has asked for your assistance, and I must say myself that I'm sorry but Konoha requires your assistance once more. The Chunin exams are approaching, and while the Nations are at peace, war is still an option. |

|With your potions coming in, the causality rate of missions have gone down considerably, but the exams might ruin that. I was wondering if it was possible if you'd be present at the exams to heal the wounded. I fear that there will be too many major injuries that may cause permanent damage to the youth of Konoha. Of course, I understand if you can't come, but I would graciously appreciate if you did. If you cannot, please supply us with a greater amount of your work.|

It was signed the Third Hokage.

Hari sighed deeply and gazed up to the waning gibbous moon, a knee pulled up against his chest with an elbow resting on it. He remembered staying in that position until the sky was slightly orange. Refusing to procrastinate any longer, he went to his workroom and grabbed a random bag to cast a charm on it.

He snatched for various ingredients from his storages and plopped them onto his desk. Ingredients from frog eyes to slugs, flower petals, and herbs, his desk was completely covered by the end of his scavenge.

Fumes clouded the air as his desk got messy (messier than it already was) with spilled liquids, but Hari paid no mind. His large cauldron boiled by the side of the table, simmering with erratic hues, such as lavender and burgundy, or evergreen and crimson.

When the snowy white owl clock's hand struck the devil's hour, he was completely done. Dozens and dozens of vials stood tall with different various colors with labels branded onto their glass surface. Hari observed them proudly as he quickly washed his hands beneath the sink.

"I thought you didn't want to be lonely anymore," the shadow by the window croaked.

'It's like you said,' Hari thought. 'The more people I meet, the more painful it will be to watch them fade.'

"Yet you've only made one rule for yourself."

Hari carefully placed all the vials into specially fitted containers before dropping them into the bottomless bag. With a gentle whisper, Hari knelt down and looked toward the feet of the shadow. Emerging from the darkness, a large figure padded toward him.

Reaching a hand out to it, Hari combed through its locks of penumbra and caressed its face, rubbing his finger along the eyebags. Crimson orbs flashed, but it wasn't of malevolent thirst. It whined impatiently as its tail lashed behind it.

Hari scratched behind its ears which led it to melt into his touch. Although he never spent much time with the man of broken glass and family, whose friends both left and betrayed him, whose life came crashing down to a lonely cell, Hari guilty comforted himself in the presence of the Grim.

It reminded Hari of him; it was bittersweet.

Shrinking the bag and connecting it to an ashen gray collar, Hari wrapped it around the neck of the Grim. He met eyes with the large silky black dog and no words were ever needed to be thought, neither spoken.

The Grim rushed out of the door briskly and lithely, its movements fluid as it leaped out of the window with a pounce. Driving out toward the forests beyond, the destination of Konoha would be an easy quest.

Hari never took one step out of his home that night.

They sat side by side on the windowsill, legs dangling over the edge of the sea. He turned to his friend whose hair gleamed like the flames of ambers. Icy cerulean yet old warm eyes gazed back at him, occupied by that same beautiful grin.

"I've always thought the sea was amazing. Briny air, soft sand and all."

"Have you been talking to Luna?"

Emerald eyes flashed with mirth. "I always do."

Seagulls called along the ripple of the waves as wrinkly hands fiddled with the Anemone. The curtains brushed across their backs, the salty gales streaming through their locks of red and black.

"You won't be alone, mate. You'll never be."

"How do you know that?"

The silver linings of the clouds gleamed bravenly.

A face boring wrinkles and gray skin, locks of flame fading to ash, his arid lips spread into a bittersweet smile. "Bloody hell, are you seriously that stupid?"

News of the Third Hokage's death traveled faster than gossip, but Hari still couldn't find it in himself to go when Hatake requested his presence after the Chūnin Exams for medical help.

He just couldn't. As he was right now, one patient or two was fine, but a whole hospital full immediately after a bloody battle? It reminded too much of man weaved of greed and vengeance. So he burned the letter and stayed.

It was cowardly, but Hari couldn't find it in himself to care. He had other plausible reasons to. Interfering with the world's affairs didn't work out for him since he hadn't belonged there in the first place.

It was peaceful for a while as normal life continued on without a hitch, but when things get too quiet, it was a bad sign.

One night when Hari couldn't sleep and didn't want to force a sleeping potion on himself, he sat silently on the porch, mind blank and radio silence.

He fiddled with his fingers, head down as locks of black fell past his cheeks. He breathed with ease, with fresh air going and coming by as he steadied his own heartbeat to the pulse of life within the roots of flowers nearby.

The midnight candles lit up the archway of his roof. Frozen in time, the creak of the crickets thrummed through the cold gale as fireflies spun threads of fire.

His wards were triggered a few minutes ago by a pair.

So he waited.

"Are you the Flightless Fae?" a voice spoke up in front of him, tone deep and smooth.

Hari didn't bother to look up at the intruders. He could make up the cloak of darkness printed with crimson and snow clouds from the top of his eyes. Nodding, Hari rubbed a temple with a hand.

"Ehh," another man quipped, hoarse. "I thought he'd look a bit stronger, or y'know, taller." He was six feet, maybe seven.

Hari looked up and shot a glare at the tall man, the latter never knowing how jealous he actually was at his extreme height. He didn't have his notepad, but his gaze said everything they needed to know.

The taller man was Hoshigaki Kisame, an S Rank missing-nin of Kirigakure. Hari read through all the bingo books one time when he had nothing to do and now all of the people with bounties were seared into his mind.

"He's mute as they say," Kisame observed, and a sadistic smile danced on his lips. "Maybe we should cut off one of his hands to make him speak."

The healer never batted an eyelash.

Beside him was the Uchiha, Hari assumed—the one who nearly murdered his entire clan. "We need him, Kisame. Refrain from making such selfish remarks." He stared down Hari, eyes darker than night at its devil's hour. "I've heard you don't refuse aid to anyone," he remarked, and a deeper motive underlined his words.

Hari decided not to answer.

Despite the lack of reply, the Uchiha—or Itachi, demanded in a quiet yet heavy voice, "Do you know our motive?"

Hari feigned confusion although the latter knew exactly what Itachi implied. For him, it was quite obvious. He could see it with his eyes, the illness that wrapped around Itachi's veins and bones like the vines growing over monuments of old. The hazy mist originating from the man's core was seeping out of his body, only clinging by the amount of medication he was taking.

Hari's faked expression never got past the Uchiha. "Can you heal it?" he murmured, and if Hari wasn't the being he was, he wouldn't have caught the sound of pleading.

Pursing his lips, Hari, once again, didn't reply. Seven crows flew as shadows against the niveous moonlight.

It was nearly time before things went to shit. The Uchiha's gaze melted into a coldblooded glare before long, and Hari watched as his eyes swirled to a crimson night.

Yet it froze in place. The world hushed as the breathing ceased of all living creatures and the rushing water of rivers stilled.

Just like the same way Hari did to his brother, his emerald green eyes of fae gleamed against the spilled moonlight as his gaze swept past the hindering ghastly murmurs of spirits. From here, Uchiha Itachi's soul was kept in shade, ribbons of shadows and feathers of ravens wrapping his entire being, guaranteeing the soul to never see the light of day once more. That's what it looked like, but Hari wasn't a fool. He might have been one time, but not now. Now anymore.

For a second, the Search crackled like a dysfunctioning tape as Hari saw in the corner of his eyes the transparent figures of two men. Vipers and serpents slithered at their feet as one bore locks of pale gold and the other bore locks of ebony. With another crackle of vision, they were gone as soon as they came.

Delving closer, fighting past the malevolent vines of manipulation, Hari found his core, and he was stunned in awe at what he saw. Hari couldn't stop the distant nostalgic flashes of a man cloaked in black who feigned the enemies' ally just so the girl with vibrant red hair could live another day with someone else.

With a subtle blink, every living being took a breath in one single moment.

As Hari stared into black and red, Itachi found himself rendered still by green.

Hari nodded and Itachi heard his unspoken words.

'I can heal you..'

Kurama always found himself thinking back to the past these days, where the Sage was still alive and breathing with the wisdom of a thousand stars and the burning love of three hundred comets. I mean, there was nothing else to do but imagine. He was trapped in this stupid blond boy's stomach, and he had almost escaped a few days ago!

Perhaps, he only needed to wait a little bit longer for it to be time to leave.

He wondered how the Old man would react to seeing him and his siblings, prisoners to human sacrifices. Would he be sickened? Or did he predict this all along?

Still, Kurama felt himself falling into the times of age. He recalled times when the Old Man would tell stories for the newly separated nine siblings. Y'know, short yet adventurous stories. Those were some of the best, but the one tale that the nine siblings could never love more was a sad one.

No action, no romance, no adventure, but something else entirely.

It was a sad tale.

"For the Master, Death was an equal despite the collar and the chain. So forthwith, the Master called upon his one weapon and removed the brand that called Death his. Yet for the kindness shone after the rebirth of a thousand stars, Death trailed his footsteps for the years ahead. Never once did a knife or the tinge of age taint the Master, no more than they affected itself."

"The Master bounded world after world, for his time never seemed to come. He grew lonely even with Death a step behind. However, he never did let another come close, for he would soon watch them age with gray till they slept beneath the dirt."

"Through the burst of Suns and Moons, the Master watched as civilizations grew and fell without more than a helping hand. Until another universe comes to die, the Master lies in wait as one crow joins eight."

The hourglass was left empty.

He was real, Kurama knew that. He could see it in the Old Man's eyes. The latter respected him and his dull eyes glowed with awe when he told the tale of the Master of Death. The Old Man had probably met the Master (who was undoubtedly much older than him).

Kurama wondered if he'd ever meet the man—if he was more similar to the tales than women's gossip. If Kurama ever did meet the Master of Death, he wished to know that if the Master could free the nine siblings, would he? (Of course, he could free them, but would he?)

For once, Kurama found himself lost, and it was all because of a children's tale and a little bit of hope.

Naruto's eyes widened in horror when he realized what kind of position he was currently standing in. The spikes of the Ten Tails' soared toward him at blinding speed and he couldn't bring himself to defend himself, but while that was a problem, he saw a figure rush in front of him, arms spread wide.

The dread in his stomach pulsed.

Shouts and screams bloodied the battlefield, yet in this frozen moment of time, they were all muted. The only thing he could hear was the rapid beat of his heart.

For a second, Naruto thought he saw a phoenix with wings of fire and age, a burst of inferno that seethed safety and protection. Yet it wasn't (Naruto wished so badly that it was), but Neji was always a good person deep inside and it just couldn't be his time, not just yet.

So dear god, don't let it be him.

His prayers were answered.

White mist sprung up from the ground, nebulous as a cloak of shadows flickered into existence. A shield of cerulean and snow that hummed with power deflected the spikes with ease. Neji landed on the ground, touched with the ghastly whisper of Death in his ear, but all the while, he wasn't injured and dying like he was supposed to be in a different age.

From the distant land, watching from afar, Death wrote down a new death date for the Hyuga.

Obito and the rest of the shinobi were caught off guard with the appearance of a new wild card. The misty forcefield dispelled, ebbed away briskly with the wave of a hand and with the battlefield gone silent, they got a good look at the man.

Standing amidst all of the frozen chaos, a short noiret smiled serenely and straight. His elvish emerald eyes crackled with the sparks of blooming flowers as his unkempt ebony locks brushed past his high cheekbones. The presence that emitted from him was comforting to allies and frightening to enemies.

Kakashi gaped and sputtered out when he recognized the man standing there, "Hari?" The Copy Ninja hadn't seen him for years.

"Eyes of Angels that hold the realms of the fae and the doe."

With an abrupt glowing pulse of his verdant eyes, the allied nations were rushed over with a wave of power which pumped through their veins as their wounds soothed and hummed. The blood seeping through their injuries stopped splashing onto the dirt.

And as if to say, I've got your back, Hari hailed onto the clouds, and in fascination, those around witnessed as his hands sparked with erratic silver thrums while the bolts of purple burst from the ashen skies with a crackle. For a mere second, the lighting of the electricity gave Hari wings.

The silver lining of clouds from the gap in the sky blazed.

From inside Naruto's stomach, Kurama smiled.

"I've finally found you."

Inside the cottage, sitting on a rocking chair, Hari slowly read through his newspaper, coffee steaming alluringly on his desk with a plate of croissants. He yawned drowsily as he flipped through the pages, and it wasn't surprising on how all the articles spoke of the savior: Uzumaki Naruto, the jinchuuriki.

Sporting a small smile, Hari suppressed a chuckle. Uchiha Sasuke was mentioned, along with the reveal of Uchiha Itachi's true history. For a few moments, he gazed at the picture by the article that did mention Sasuke. The two brothers were side by side, grown up with a small smile on their faces.

Just like every other world his master went to, Death had to rewrite a few death dates.

Nothing in the newspaper ever mentioned Hari.

White flowing mist exited Naruto's head, along with everyone else's. Kakashi, blurring out of his confusion as he recovered, peered over to him and replied, "Thanks for treating the wounded, Hari. I'm glad you could make it." |It's no problem.| "It's fortunate you weren't there though," Kakashi murmured, his chin slightly tipping down. "It was a bloodbath." Hari smiled bitterly. It was better that they didn't remember.

A black rose bloomed under the liquid moonlight.

When people started to notice how he never seemed to age, Hari knew it was time to part ways with this world.

His departure... it was quiet, y'know? Goodbyes were never his strong point, as they were his weakest. So he never did say farewell. He couldn't bring himself to, so instead, he made it as if he never existed.

His fond cottage was nothing but a plot of empty land with a free land sign as the mist of memories floated up to the clouds. It was better this way—no one would get hurt this way—no one would miss him.

Treading through the village, Taka ran up to him, eyes sparkling with awe and for a second, Hari thought it didn't work. But it did.

"Hey, hey! Are you a traveler? Do you know any cool tricks!?"

Her parents hushed her from the side, eyeing Hari as if he was a stranger (but he was a stranger, and that hurt way more than it should've). Hari smiled to the inquisitive girl before continuing on his way. He passed village after village, never stopping until he was at the place he needed to go.

And when he was there, he closed his eyes.

Hari apparated to the world in-between. From a long cliff, he stood, nebulous misty clouds filled the boundary between two distant places—or border to separate the dangers of both. He moved to go forward into the clouds.

"You're leaving."

Hari didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The eerie silence approached with the banishment of songbirds.

The old man asked sadly as he'd be losing an old friend, "Do you know where you're going next?"

Shrugging, Hari pursed his lips. Dear Merlin, why did this always have to happen? Why did this always happen when he was about to leave?

"I hope you find what you're looking for."

Hari peered over his shoulder.

Green met purple rings.

The Sage smiled bitterly, "Goodbye, Master of Death."

And in spite of the moment, Hari owed something. Not a debt but an obligation. He had never done it since the rebirth of a thousand stars but this seemed like a worthy occasion.

He grinned bittersweetly and the Sage widened in awe as he spoke words, "It's Harry. Just Harry. Farewell, Hagoromo."

Then as the new moon rose, the Master took one step forward and vanished as the tale had told. There as he fell through the veil between, the start of a new adventure began after the end of another.

04/01/19 - Honestly, I had no idea what I was thinking while writing this. Over a year ago, I thought this was a masterpiece, but all it is is a piece of utter trash with weird adjectives, unneeded symbolism, trashy angst, and too many grammar mistakes to count. If you did end up liking it, I'm glad you put up with all the flaws. :D I'm going to go lie in a ditch now.