Shikamaru arches a brow. He wonders what kind of world it was that allows this woman to retain that kind of sentimentality about life and death. To him, while it isn't quite a throwaway concept, he has to be almost spartan about his approach. He doesn't cringe at the sight of blood on his hands, because whenever it ends up there, he's confident that his choice was made in the greater interest.

He would never kill for his own purposes. Never kill for the sake of saving himself, and himself alone. But that's never the situation in front of him. He was the lead strategist of an entire village, a village at war, and that meant that thousands of people were counting on him not to let an enemy slip by.

He never regrets the principle of ending a few lives to save many more. The only regret comes if he thinks he could have ended the conflict more efficiently. But that, simply put, isn't always possible. And self-flagellation is less valuable than learning from his mistakes and becoming better in the process.

Blood is only blood.

"I have blood on my hands. A lot of it," he admits, deciding to be honest. Why not? An idealist earns truth most easily of all. "But I would rather carry the burden of blood on my hands if it means saving more people. My emotional weight is less important than their health."