The Huntress

Another Long Story

TW: **mentions of suicide**

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A roll of her neck. Her firm hand came up to massage her sore muscles under the collar of her leather jacket. Katsume let out a low groan as her other hand grasped a grocery bag stacked with the chocolate strawberry assortments she'd made the night before. The mid-day sun bared down on her, casting a halo over her ivory tresses as its heat threatened to melt her carefully crafted delicacies.

She'd figured it was only a matter of time before Jiraiya returned from his intel mission, but when one of his messenger toads hopped onto her second-story balcony earlier this morning—by means she wasn't sure she should question—and informed her of Jiraiya's arrival in the village, she set out to say her goodbyes.

Well...sort of.

She intended the strawberries as terms of her farewell, attached small notes to the bronze silk ribbons of each one. However, seeing Jiraiya's toad made her departure feel all the more imminent. Real. The toad also informed Katsume that her father had a few matters to attend to—speaking with the Hokage being at the top of the list—and they would leave once Naruto returned from his own mission with Team Eight.

She had no idea he'd even been sent out...Some chaperone she is...

It's likely they'll choose to leave first thing in the morning instead of tonight. She was a bit relieved but also wasn't looking forward to hiking at the ass crack of dawn.

Katsume's honey-brown eyes trailed down to the bag in her left hand, the steady ache in her chest growing to thud painfully against her ribs. This was her decision, but she's never had to say goodbye before.

She'd never been the one to leave people behind—only ever been alone.

Or the one being left behind.

Katsume let out a sigh and flashed into a blur onto the rooftops. She strode along the ledges, certainly giving any villager who spotted the white-haired woman a minor heart attack as she teetered on the edge of life and death—in their eyes. To her, it wasn't even a forefront thought. Casual, as she placed one foot in front of the other, paying no mind to the steep drop on her right to the village roads two stories below.

She was in no rush, but she didn't linger around the homes of her friends as she placed a box of strawberries on the doorstep, knocked, then flashed away before the doors creaked open. She meandered to the next, repeating the process. Then the next, and the next...

A personalized note—left on the top of each box:

To Sakura– Kick some ass. Specifically, my mother's.

To Anko– Help yourself to my booze. Be a good girl and share.

To Kurenai– Don't let Anko drink my booze by herself, and help yourself to my closet.

To Asuma– You and Kurenai better be together by the time I get back.

To Guy– I promise to give training my all and more. Keep an eye on that idiot.

To Iruka– Don't worry too much about Naruto. I'll be there for him.

To Genma– I'll let you pay for the drinks next time.

Short and semi-sweet.

She can't have them missing her too much. And she figured it was better than nothing at all. Guilt's ravished her over the past few months—for Cat; for being silent about her departure; and now for her shitty way of saying goodbye. Building and building. They deserve better for all they've done for her—accepting her as their own. It was utterly pathetic, she knows, and unbelievably selfish.