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True; it was nice to know. I was glad to see Masuerta interested in the medical arts simply because it’s helpful. Still, learning the medical arts was a difficult task, at least for the first time. As I’d mentioned before, the chakra control required to utilize chakra in such a way was immense, and so was chakra-granted strength, which was the reason only medics were ever capable of utilizing chakra to grant them strength, as I did.

I could tell he was eager to begin right away. In a way, I was doubtful that going about it in such a way was the right course of action--that is, whether or not we should have returned to Konohagakure. After all, I wasn’t even sure about how long we’d been gone, but then I figured, in the end, it didn’t matter much anyways. I had planned on leaving the place for quite a while now, and this was perhaps the time to do so. My reasoning wasn’t typical, not like the stereotype for nuke-nin; I wasn’t a criminal, I’d never committed a crime in my life. I truly believed in my reasons--that they were for the greater good, and that, in the end, I would make the world a better place.

For now, though, such big ambitions weren’t becoming of a weak kid like me. I’d get stronger, gain allies, and I’d start right here. Teaching Masuerta would help me develop my own medical ninjutsu.

”Hm.” I lifted my hand before me, turning it over, distracted for a moment by the bandages that encased it entirely--or rather, what lied beneath. ”Well,” I said, snapping out of my reverie. ”I guess first, we start with the most basic medical jutsu there is: Shousen no Jutsu! It’s a general, all-purpose jutsu, which regenerates the body through the use of chakra.” As I spoke, the hand I’d risen began to take on a pale green glow; the light of Shousen no Jutsu. ”It requires excellent chakra control: first, you should practice controlling your chakra before you actually try to use the technique. It’s not as easy as it looks!” I smiled and made my way closer to Masuerta.

”Try to build up your chakra into a ball at your fingertip, say, an inch in diameter.” This was a sort of test, and a sort of exercise. It would build up his ability to control his chakra, though I didn’t expect him to succeed in creating a ball with those exact proportions on the first try.

A light, drowsy groan escaped my lips. My vision was foggy, blurred; I furiously blinked the weariness away, though everything still only appeared as large colored shapes and patches. There was deep, solid blue before me, and as I shook away the veil of sleep, I recognized it to be the sky--almost completely clear, save for the golden, fiery ball that hung heavy on the horizon. Its beams stretched out, as if reaching to grasp the world, bursting over the edge of the earth and embracing it in a sort of warm light, and I smiled slightly. In a way, it almost seemed surreal, as if I were floating, and it was then that I realized I had no recollection of where I was. Shaking my head, I pushed lightly off the ground, but stopped before I straightened up completely. The feeling of the earth--no, what was I laying on? It was familiar, and sent a wave of . . . emotion, something I couldn’t understand, a mixture so muddled that I couldn’t decipher what it was made of or why it had become. All I knew was that I hated it.

Then, in stark contrast to the peace I’d felt moments before, I realized where I was. Realized what had happened, and why I was here. There was no earth beneath my hands--only black ash, remnants of what had been. Life. For a moment I cringed, and succumbed to the emotion that filled me as I recalled the memory, falling into deep anger and despair, but soon pushed the thoughts away and managed to sit myself up.

I took a deep breath, and exhaled, as if I were expelling all of the emotion I’d just felt. With my back against a torn, broken tree, I sat lazily with one leg bent, my arm resting upon its knee and my eyes closed. I didn’t even want to look at my arms. They were covered in bandages I’d recently made, before I’d passed out, but even such a familiar sight wouldn’t fool my heart. What lied beneath was etched into my mind, and more importantly, what it represented to me. So I chose instead to sit in pure obsidian, hidden away behind closed eyes, but I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering back to what had happened.

This wasn’t like me. I wasn’t one to think at all, much less take the time to sit and contemplate such complex things. Not much good came of thinking without acting, but now, there was little avoiding it. I was here only because I had to rest, because if I had tried to move at all before, I would have been pushing myself too far. To have been in such a sorry state--so beat up, so exhausted that even moving was detrimental--it was frustrating to have fallen to. But worse than that was the state I’d thrown myself into that had gotten me into such a predicament. I’d truly lost my mind, if only for that time, driven mad by anger and confusion and sorrow. And I owed my life to Masuerta and Blanche, because I would surely have died if it weren’t for the both of them.

Gathering the courage to gaze upon my own form, I slowly opened my eyes, staring down at my bandaged arm with a heavy heart. It was an expression unbecoming of me--one I never wore--one of pain, and guilt. One I hated. I turned my arm over, flexing my hand as I examined it. It felt perfectly healthy, thanks to Blanche, but I knew what lied beneath the bandages: grotesque, reddened scars, and more importantly, a sort of mark of shame. A testament to my failure, and my naivete. It was something I’d contemplated too many times before, but I couldn’t push it from my mind now.

How much time had passed? I’d succumbed to the lull of my subconscious, fallen victim to exhaustion shortly after Blanche had left me. There was no way for me to tell how long I’d been unconscious, but I knew that I felt well rested. That I’d regained my chakra, and that I could begin to move soon. But I had no goals, nowhere to go. Not immediately, at least--because I didn’t know what I wanted, or even where I was exactly. Where had Masuerta gone? I regretted leaving him, felt guilty for it, so I knew that my first goal was to find him. To apologize. He’d saved my life, and I’d simply left him alone because I didn’t want to burden him. But was that all I had done? Probably not; I’d probably betrayed his trust, in a way. Leaving without saying a word.

Sighing, I turned my ashen gaze to the horizon, staring through the sun’s light as if I would be able to see Masuerta there. I had no way of knowing where he was, or if he was even still in this country. I wasn’t sure what it was I could do--should do. So all I found myself doing was sitting, filled with my own thoughts, consumed by my mind.