"You're alive," Ginta breathed, full of wonder. He could still see the skull grinning beneath the mask. "Thought they'd got you. How can you be alive?" Kakashi's skin clung to him like the mummy's had, tight and shiny and tanned almost black. It was peeling away from his nose, covering his mouth in a broad swath...

No. No, Kakashi had a mask on.

It was so hot. So painfully hot. Ginta's head swiveled, and a flare of sunlight caught his eye. Fire. It wasn't sun that had burned the flesh from Kakashi's skull, but flame. The fire in the factory. Fires the Kyuubi had lit with sweeps of its nine tails. Fires set by Iwa ninja during the war. And Kakashi was right in the middle of it. "Kakashi, get out of there!" Ginta jerked back, raising his hands for a water jutsu. Pain stopped him up short. He curled over himself, hands clenched in useless claws, grabbing for his legs.