The Hard Truth (P)

With a heavy heart, Haru looked upon the deceased body of one of his own students. It was a hard thing to do, and he had been unable to face her since Xyxer's revelation. It pained him more then he could say that the girl before him, who was barely more than a child, died of the very thing her own master perished to. Worse still was that she died thinking that Haru himself had killed Yozora, courtesy of the giant sword-wielding fuckwit that ruined his life. 

"...I wish I could tell her that." He said to himself, breaking the silence of the meadow. The girl's body lay there, wrapped in a green linen claok, a few beams of sunlight breaking through the mist to meet her. He couldn't bury her body, it was too valuable. Shinobi rarely got to be laid to rest. Still, this was as close to a funeral as he could offer her.

He expected Altar to arrive soon, and he honestly had no idea what to say to the boy. He remembered hearing that the two had become an item, and how hard he laughed... Now he regretted that. Maybe Altar could have saved her, somehow... He chuckled to himself, through the tears. Maybe HE could have saved her. 

When the boy arrived, Haru would speak. "I know sometimes this job makes us think we're immortal. Myself especially." He began. "But this is the real world, and sometimes it doesn't give you a happy ending." He continued. "I know it's not fair, and believe me, I know exactly what you're feeling right now. I've felt it five other times. But you need to be strong, kid." Haru would tell him. "Kid." Something Haru hadn't called him in quite some time. Before, it was to tease him. Now it was to bring him back to earth.

Altar would arise from his bed slowly, small rays of sunlight creeping through the curtains of his room. The light filled in the dips and divets of the scars that traced Altar's body. the low rumble of a sleeping dragon filled the silence of the room. Running a hand through his blanch mess of hair, It would stay back for a few seconds before re-orienting itself in an organized tangle. Throwing on his clothes and overcoat, Altar would head out the door. He had been summoned, and he damn well planned to attend.

As he arrived, he was surprised to find Haru ready to greet him. They were located in a serene meadow, a place Altar didn't even know existed prior to this. Small tethers of sunlight broke through the mist, an occurrence that rarely happened in Kirigakure. It was like the outside world was trying to tell them it still existed. Like some greater force had a message, but couldn't get it through the haze. It felt strangely isolated.

As Haru spoke, Altar's fists would slowly clench, and he could almost feel a fire igniting in his stomach and in his eyes. How could he know how this felt? Altar would grind his teeth, exasparating before replying to the man before him.

"How could you know how this feels, Haru? Everyone i've ever loved, gone. Everyone i've ever liked, befriended, everyone i've ever breathed next to, vanished. Poof. Dead. In the blink of an eye." Altar would say, walking up to Haru and pushing him. As Altar moved, however, he noticed the body. On seeing it, the boy would stop dead in his tracks, his eyes filling with tears.

Altar would sink to his knees, his stature slumping and his hands impacting the ground. "...damn it. Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT! I could've saved her, someone could've saved her. There must've been a way."

Altar's reaction was just as Haru expected. He knew the boy well enough to expect this. They weren't all that different, when it came down to it. The boy asked him how he could know how he felt, how it felt to lose everyone dear to him. Haru turned to face the boy now, eye to eye. Tears were streaming down the Mizukage's face, just as well. He looked at Altar, and for the first time, he didn't see the little kid he'd taken under his wing. He saw a reflection.

The boy's shove would meet Haru's chest, but Haru would not budge. He stood strong, looking right into Altar's eyes. 
"Because I've lived it." He whispered gravely. He would say no more. He wasn't here to try and one-up Altar. He was here to help the boy grieve. He knew just how much the boy had suffered, but suffer more he would, every day until the day they died. That was their curse to live with as Shinobi.

"I was the only one who could have saved her." He muttered, almost to himself. "I dedicated my life to curing her ailment. To searching for the cause. It took my sensei, my family, my friends, my captain... And now it's taken my student. I failed her." Haru confided in the boy. "I've still no idea what killed her. It's my fault." He concluded gravely. Worst of all in Haru's mind was that she died hating him, hating what she thought he had done. Hating him because of the lie Xyxer told her.

Altar's eyes would water continuously, his mind at a complete standstill. His arms were limp beside him. Haru claimed to have lived the same things the boy had before, but was that even close to true? His family was a wreck and long dead. His parents had died before his very eyes. His friends had been slaughtered or dropped dead. His own sister had been killed by his own hand. And now the girl he had feelings for was dead in front of him. Sudden and no explanation.

As Haru spoke, Altar would raise his hands to his face, holding himself upright and wiping his face clean. The man claimed it was his fault. He had failed her. He could've saved her. As Altar looked at his hands, his mind went from a complete and utter standstill to racing one million miles per hour.

He could've saved her.
He failed her.
It was his fault.
It was his fault.
It was all his fucking fault.

Altar's fists would clench, emotion running rampant through the boy's body. Rising from the ground in one fluid movement, Altar would take two swings for the man's jaw, both sloppy and poorly directed, but the boy didn't care anymore. He wanted this hurt to go away, and maybe some false vendetta would rid him of his agony. He could've saved her. Anyone could've saved her. But Haru had just taken the blame and Altar was more than ready and willing to take everything out on him now.

Altar would keep swinging unless interrupted, aiming jabs and hooks for the man's sides, chest and head. As he fought, Altar would speak out, his eyes regaining their blurriness now. "You could've saved her! She could still be alive, Haru! You should've done something, anything!"

Once again, Altar reacted just as Haru expected. With rage that rivaled his own, the boy bore upon Haru, a fist flying towards him, Haru was half tempted to fight back. No, he would let Altar use him as a punching bag. It was better for him to let his anger out here, where no innocents could be hurt. 
"I tried, Altar." He said as the first strike hit Haru's face, his head turning a bit with the strike, but no wound being left. "I did everything I could." He said as the second strike impacted with his face. "For all of them." He said, his face turning back towards Altar.

Haru took everything Altar dished out, each strike impacting with his body. 

A strike hit his left side.
"Rin Taiki."
Right side.
"Haruna Shizen"
Chest.
"Matsu Hyuuga."
Face.
"Yozora Shinkou."

As the blows stopped, Haru looked up slowly. His eyes would lock with Altar's, his expression intense.
"Youta Rentei." He finished. The world seemed to stand still, frozen in time. Some legends said powerful shinobi gained a mental link during a battle, sharing thoughts and emotions. He wondered if Altar could feel what Haru felt. The blows didn't hurt him. He was tough. No, something else hurt him much more then that, though. With each strike, it bit into him, burning him, forcing him to look upon his failure.

"I failed all of them."

He didn't know what he expected the boy to say. He doubted he even knew what Haru was talking about at this point. Haru had spoke little of his sensei, his friends, or his former captain. Only one of those names would resonate with the boy.

As Altar's fists greeted the man's body, he could feel a stinging sensation reverberate through his arms. It hurt him more than it seemed to hurt Haru, but it felt good. It alleviated some of the pressure. It healed some of the pain. It was an alternative to screaming out to whatever damnable god would listen that he should be dead instead of her. It helped. It helped a lot.

As he swung, Haru listed names of those he had let die. Some names were completely foreign to him. It was the last two names that rung in his ears and halted him for a split second. Yozora Shinkou. One that shared his last name, and someone Youta had almost idolized. Her blade had bore the Shinkou crest. She had been family, no matter how far apart. And Youta, the one he knew personally. As the two locked eyes, Altar could practically feel the weight on Haru's shoulders. So many lives taken, and so few lost. Yet it was the few he couldn't prevent that took their toll on him.

Perhaps they were more alike than even Altar had thought.

As Altar's steam ran out, he pushed himself off of Haru and took a few steps back, keeping his eyes locked with Haru's. "You speak nonsense and names that have no weight on me. You claim you failed each and every one of them, and for all I know, you did. Yet here you stand, and here I stand, and clearly there's some reason for that, no matter how twisted it may be."

As Altar spoke, his aggression would subside and his eyes would drift up to the rays of light trailing through the mist. "You don't make it easy to hate you, do you? As much as I may try, try to convince myself it's your fault, try to make believe that fighting you would make this better, it won't bring her back. It won't bring anyone back. And it won't become true."

Haru saw something close to recognition, maybe even understanding, cross the boy's face, as he pushed himself away from Haru. The boy shouted at him, telling him he spoke nonsense, which was both ironic and saddening to Haru. The boy asked him what the reason was that he had brought Altar here...

What was the reason, Haru? Really...?

It was his friendship with the boy, of course. The bond they had forged was such that Haru couldn't let the girl pass from this world without him seeing her, just one more time...

Bullshit.

He knew it, and whatever it was inside him that was speaking to him knew it, too. He wanted to be different then... No, better then The First. The scum that came before him would never have allowed those close to the dead to see their friends before their disposal...

No, he was better then that. It was more then a petty game.

Was it really, though?

"I brought you here because you and I both need to learn to let go." He told the boy. "It's been bothering you, all this time, I know it. Seeing her probably made it worse, but it'll help you grieve." He explained.

As the boy made what almost sounded like a joke, Haru smirked. If only...

Altar's gaze would drift to Youta's body. It would help him grieve. He'd been carrying this burden for a while. It's been troubling him for a while. He needed to learn to let go. Altar would sigh, a long, exasperated and deeply saddened sigh. "You have no idea, all the shit that's been bothering me. All the grief i've carried with me. I've never once learned to drop it and walk away. I've never let go of agony, Haru. No matter how much I try, there's always that one memory, that one jolt awake from a nightmare that brings it all back. It never truly goes away. The blood never really washes out. It just fades until you get used to the new color." Altar would say, looking to his hands. So much blood had stained his hands in so little amount of time. Could they really be used for much else? Or was he doomed to be a weapon for the rest of his natural life?

Altar would shift his gaze again to Youta, slowly shambling over to where the passed girl lay. His hand trembling, he would lay it on the girl's body. The boy's eyes would brim with tears, the drops impacting the cloth of the cloak the girl was wrapped in. With gritted teeth, Altar's mind succumbed to memories of smiling faces of all the ones he had shed tears for. A large man with a large beard, ruffling a young Altar's hair with a brandished smile. A woman, frail yet stoic, with a gentle touch to everything she did. A young girl, Altar's age, with blonde hair and magnificent blue eyes, always ready to help. A brown haired, green eyed girl who escaped a monster, only to tame him later on. And now, a girl with hair as white as newly fallen snow, eyes as blue as the deepest ocean, a ninja to the core with a hidden loving side. Every face locked away in a place Altar would never lose.

Snapping back to reality, Altar realized he was still crying. "Rest in peace, Youta. May you find happiness in the afterlife." Altar would say, his voice choked and strained. The boy would wipe at his face and step back, looking up to the sky. He didn't know where to go from here. He didn't know what to do anymore. He was stood in a place he had never been before, and there was no clear direction this time.

"No, it never does." Haru agreed sadly. "In our line of work, this is likely not to be the last of your sorrows." Said Haru matter-of-factly. It was the truth, after all, and Haru wasn't the type to sugar-coat things. "But, still, we must soldier on. For the fallen. For the lost." He said, his tone becoming more warm and powerful. 

He watched the boy lay her to rest, saying his goodbyes. Haru had already taken care of most of her gear, storing it away and placing her in appropriate clothing for burial, before wrapping her in her shroud.
"Few ninja receive genuine funerals. Fewer still are actually laid to rest. For Youta's sake, I think we should make sure her body cannot be tampered with after her death." Haru explained as he retrieved a torch, igniting it quickly. "Would you like to do the honors?" Haru asked him, extending his arm to offer the boy the torch.

The boy would look down to his feet, before turning his reddened eyes to the man holding out the torch to him. "I...I don't know if I can." the boy would say, his eyes clouding again. Nevertheless, the boy would take the torch after a few seconds, his hand shaking before transferring to his entire body. For the first time in a while, the boy felt scared. He felt vulnerable. He felt weak. And more than anything, he felt alone. So damn alone.

Altar would look solemnly at the open flame, before reaching out towards the delicately wrapped body of the girl. The flame would take a few seconds to hesitantly lick at the cloth, seemingly deciding if it liked the taste. Soon enough, however, the flame made the jump to the wrap, and most likely to the passed girl underneath. After the flames took, the boy would simply drop the torch, losing his will to even hold it as it rolled next to the body.

Done with the deed, the boy would look skyward again. "She's...she's gone. I should feel free, not isolated." the boy would say, slowing shaking his head to nobody in particular. his shoulders still shivering. "I'm alone."