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He wasn’t looking for an enemy. He was looking at his hands. They were pale, trembling slightly from the exhaustion of a body failing him. He remembered the smell of the Konoha forests, the weight of Sasuke on his back, and the warmth of a home he had burned to the ground to save.

A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, casting his silhouette against the storm. In that microsecond, he looked less like a monster and more like a ghost. He reached out, his fingers catching a single droplet of rain. "Forgive me, Sasuke," he whispered into the wind.

As the thunder rolled, he vanished into a swirl of black feathers, leaving behind nothing but the echo of a heartbeat and a horizon that refused to brighten.

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