Through the Lilac Haze (Naruto)

v. stand, brave warrior, once more

In her dream, Uncle is alive.

   Which is strange. In all the time she's known him, he's never been that.

   Beyond his figure (solid, strong, real, alive, but how?) she sees home: clear skies, dewy leaves, broad oaks and all the people she loves. From her team, full of people she failed; to her coworkers, who mourned her when no one should have; to her family, broken and put back together, clumsy and messy but whole. Izumi is smiling and Kai is older than he ever had the chance to be, and it all feels so real. Could be real. She could live here forever, safe, sheltered, happy-

   But Uncle is alive and that doesn't make any sense, and he's right here and she feels like so small and weak and undeserving when he looks at her because-

   "I'm sorry. I failed you."

   And that's all she's ever done, isn't it? Failed, failed, failed. Failed Uncle, failed her team, failed her family, failed her people. She let them die and let herself die and not once has she managed to do anything right, much less the mission-

   "No," he says, "not yet."

   Between one breath and the next he's right in front of her and she can't see past him anymore. His hands are on her shoulders, and maybe if she was a little younger this is when he would be crouching down and speaking gentle assurances.

   But she's not. She hasn't been that kid for a long, long time now.

   So all she sees is pale hair and white eyes and all she hears is:

   "Wake up, Kaede."

---

In her dream, she becomes Masamune.

---

"Oh, you're awake?"

   Her first instinct is to scream and maybe stab someone. Then she realises she's riddled full of stab wounds so neither of those options are exactly feasible.

   Which leaves her with the third and most dreaded option: be civil. Yuck.

   But that doesn't go very far either, because she tries to lift her arm and nearly blacks out from the pain it causes. Her vision darkens at the edges and there's a sob building in her throat. She clamps her mouth shut. It tastes like blood.

   There's a scream and the clatter of metal on earth, ringing loud in her ears. Rest has replenished her chakra reserves to a bearable level (distantly, she wonders how long she's been asleep) and she pulls at it, sorting through her injuries - half-healed ribs, mangled hands, overexerted legs. Her hand is burning. The markings on her arm have disappeared, leaving behind skin three shades too pale for Kaede, with dried blood and dirt clinging in clumps, lining the gash on her wrist that was pulled open by a twitch of her arm. Whoever healed her hasn't heard of any kind of sustainable medical care--

   She takes a deep, deep breath, pushes past the pain and the anger and lets her chakra flow.

   She only waits until the pain becomes tolerable. There's a stranger in the room with her, and while she was wrangling her body into acceptable condition they came up right next to her and gripped her arm tight, nails digging into skin, mumbling words she barely heard. She shrugs their arm off and whips around to face them.