It was a good thing he had a box to keep his feelings in, Kakashi thought dully, because otherwise he might have broken something, too. Like a wall. He didn't ask if Ginta had proof; it was right there in front of him. In agonized blue eyes and missing fingers. Skin flayed away like paper.

Ryouma, if Kakashi had been just a little slower. He'd run eighteen hours to get here, but he still hadn't been quick enough for Tsuyako.

Or she hadn't been strong enough.

Slowly, he gentled his fingers against the side of her face, palm pressed against a cheekbone that would have been delicately angled, if someone hadn't crushed it. Bruised lips parted against broken teeth as she inhaled. His breath was still in her lungs.

He snapped her neck.

Fast, painless, and she was gone. He tilted her jaw gently back into place, swept a thumb over the tears still wet on her cheeks, and let her go. Felt nothing at all, because there wasn't time. Without looking, he signaled the clone still cradling Ginta in its arms; it lifted the shaking ninja to its chest, supporting him with strong, empty hands. Hoshika slipped behind its legs, ears pressed completely flat against her skull.

"Shouma," Kakashi began, but the shepherd was already moving. Delicately, he picked the two half-eaten chunks of abattoir meat off the floor, and vanished through the doorway, tail tucked between his hocks. The clone followed, bearing Ginta away from the bloodstained bed and the body of his former comrade. Hoshika followed in their wake, flanked by the insubstantial clone.

Kakashi sat for half a heartbeat, watching a single tremor ripple through his fingers. Then he took Tsuyako's intact hand, pulled a scroll from beneath his chestplate, and pressed four blood-whorled fingerprints into the parchment. She didn't have a set of dogtags he could take home, no mask to give back to whoever she'd left behind. But he needed something to prove he'd found her. Confirm he'd killed her.

He shoved the scroll back inside his armour, wrapped her body in the flower-patterned blankets, and re-sealed the medkit still splayed open on the mattress; put that scroll inside his armour, too. Then he threw the shrouded body over his shoulder, stole some of the husband's clothes from a dresser-drawer, and retrieved his drenched mask from the bathroom.

The family watched him with wide, shocked eyes as he passed them by. He paused and turned.

"Wait two hours, then free yourselves. I'm sorry if we frightened you."

The clone holding Ginta was waiting by the door. Kakashi handed it one of the stolen sweaters, instructing it to pull it over Ginta's shoulders, blurring his scent and warming shock-chilled limbs, and kept the remaining clothes tucked under one arm. Then he opened the door.

They were running before they hit the curb, heading straight into open sunshine.