It started with snow. The gentle, peace-filled snow, falling down endlessly, its cruel beauty taking those that are weak with hope filled promises, falling falling falling. Snow, at that time of year, in that time of war, the time of sorrow. Many tears fell, many drops of blood were drawn, many lives had faded. And we continued.

Why?

I don't care anymore. I just don't. I stopped caring when I saw you, your body broken, your eyes dead. I mindlessly continued to destroy anyone in my way. When I finally gave up, finally changed, everybody thought it was the small, orange-clad boy. That loser, the dimwit. It wasn't him. It would never be him. It would always be you.

Why?

I never showed any affection for you around anyone else. But sometimes, your smile broke through my mask, let me have a glimpse of a smile on my face and I turned away. Sometimes, I was human. I cried. I cared. I loved. I wanted to show myself to you in these moments, but the next second, the feeling would be gone, and I would scoff at the mere thought of such weakness.

WHY?

When I first saw you, it was something I had never experienced. Almost a fatherly feel. A protective one. The only emotion I didn't bother to block out. When you left for the first time, I became frantic; searching everywhere I could think of, all the while cursing— even more fluently when I realized my sword was missing.. When I found you, I shook you by the shoulders and yelled at you, showing my anger. When you reveled that the reason you were gone was to sharpen the missing weapon, I stopped shouting and backed off. Later that same day, I caught a small rabbit for you, and taught you a new jutsu.

WHY!?

I died when you died. Protecting my body, you accomplished— protecting my mind, you failed. But I was the one to cross the line, and willingly draw myself to darkness.

I won't join you.

But I'll find a way to protect you.

.

.

.

And with those last words on his lips, with the last thought of sorrow, and the last thread of pride cut, he died.

Guess who he was...