Lost in the Whirlwind (Naruto Fanfic)

Chapter 24

The funeral was small and only a handful of people attended. There were one or two faces I recognized, Shori being one of them, but that was it.

I wasn't invited, so instead, I decided to sit on a roof of a nearby house to watch the event from above.

Yamada-sensei's civilian girlfriend wept and was a giant mess on the ground, her mom (or was it his mom?) held onto her, shedding a few tears herself. I realized that even after spending so much time with Yamada-sensei, I barely knew about his personal life.

I clenched my fists and glanced away from the scene. This was the harsh reality of shinobi. One moment you're alive and talking, and the next, your loved ones are crying over your lifeless body that was missing limbs.

Grief has a way with people, coming in different forms and times. Grief can make you break down and cry, or aggressively throw furniture around the room. For me, it was just... numbing. My whole body was heavy and numb. The sounds of my steps on the wooden roof were merely a whisper when they reach my ears, and I was moving, but I couldn't feel my feet moving. I couldn't feel anything when I sat down, or anything when I stared at the black coffin.

There was nothing.

I wore a black yukata, so formal that I never thought I would wear them in this life. In a way, that was my way of paying my respect. He had died an honorable death, Shori told me, saving a comrade from a rogue nin. He didn't die immediately, but by the time his body was brought back to Konoha, the blood loss from severed right arm and leg had already done enough damage.

A small, selfish part of me wished that he didn't save his friend, so that the man could return to Konoha with his signature sneer on his face and he would be barking out orders and new training regimes to make my life a living hell.

I swallowed with difficulty and immediately regretted the thought. Yamada-sensei made the decision himself to save his friend, and that had to be respected. This was the Will of Fire that was ingrained into the children's education and thoughts since young, and the people of Konoha would have been proud that Yamada-sensei decided to choose his path.

Yamada-sensei was weird in his own way. His sadistic streak was obvious, I noted with a fond smile, but underneath that, he showed that he cared. He was always pushing me to be better, to make me realize the purpose of fighting.

My hand unknowingly touched my weapons pouch where the chakra blades Yamada-sensei gave me rested. I finally realized that these people are no longer characters. They are living and breathing. My teacher never appeared in Naruto, but that didn't make him any less important. That didn't make it hurt any less.

Yamada-sensei was a tragic loss I experienced in this world, and unsurprisingly, living another life before does not make it any easier.

My eyes moved upwards to the dark sky.

Yamada-sensei. If you're watching me from up there, I want you to know that I am truly grateful for what you have done for me. Your training will not be in vain, and I will grow up to be the shinobi that will make you proud.

Thank you for being my teacher.

A light breeze caressed my face, fluttering my hair gently, and for the briefest moment, I could have sworn I heard a whisper of his voice.

You did good, brat.

For the first time in a long time, a tear slid down my face.

------

The next few weeks were tough, and Shisui kept fretting over me like a mother hen and kept on looking at me warily as if I would collapse and break down at any given moment. To him, comrades were of utmost importance, and I was sure that he had lost some of them along the past years as a shinobi. At my age, he had probably even seen one die right in front of his eyes.