[The feeling of blood on his hand is nothing new. If anything, it's one of the greatest constants of his life—a reassurance that he's still alive.
This time, it feels strange and uncomfortable. Without turning back, he looks at his hand, stained in red.
... This is Minato's blood.
He's about to leave, to avoid making this any more painful than it already it is, but at Minato's words, he freezes.
He turns to face him, despite all his instincts telling him not to—because why would he want to see the expression of the person (family?) he just sentenced to his death?]
no subject
This time, it feels strange and uncomfortable. Without turning back, he looks at his hand, stained in red.
... This is Minato's blood.
He's about to leave, to avoid making this any more painful than it already it is, but at Minato's words, he freezes.
He turns to face him, despite all his instincts telling him not to—because why would he want to see the expression of the person (family?) he just sentenced to his death?]
... You would say that, even after this?