For a strained moment, Ginta continued to fight. Kakashi was unrelenting. A civilian would have felt the restrained threat in Kakashi's tense hold, and trembled in fear: Ginta's shaking was from shock, fatigue, pain, and anger.

But there was something there in Kakashi's leaden apology. Maybe something genuine. It was enough to temper Ginta's fury just a little. To take the edge off enough that he could look at the stone-still face and the unblinking grey eye above him, and see something like grief behind the façade.

He went limp, flinched once, then lay utterly still. Pale fingers with torn, bloodied nails and scabbed knuckles clenched around the blanket the clone had thrown over him. Ginta's eyes slid towards the wall, away from Kakashi's accusingly blank face.

"Did you know her, too?" His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "She worked in Intel. Her sister's getting married next month..." A breath, and then his head snapped back around, expression fierce. "I tried to save her. I tried twice. There were just too many of them. They were too good."