It is with every regret that I pen this for your eyes. Your reading this can mean but one thing: that I have left you. I cannot adequately say, my wonderful wife, my strong sons, my brave daughter, how my heart has loved you with its every beat. May my spirit be with you always. Please accept the personal letters which I have left for each of you as tokens of my everlasting devotion.
In the matter of my belongings, I leave the family's parcel of land by the Naka River (described in the deed enclosed) to be divided evenly between the sons and daughter of my natural issue, with the hope that they will share and enjoy it with their step-mother for the rest of her years, or until such a time as one of their own families grows large enough to require the use of it. I trust all of you to do the right thing without legal intervention, and leave no will for any such mechanism.
My unspecified personal belongings I leave to my wife, that she may remember me fondly.
To my sons, I leave my wardrobe to be divided or liquidated as they see fit. I leave them also the family's portion of the Clan's deer, and the contents of my home desk.
To my daughter I leave her mother's wardrobe and personal effects. I leave my personal letters and my calligraphy set. I leave my shinobi tool-belt, and task her with returning my standard flak jacket and forehead protector to the medical corps leaders.
To my brother, Shikatatsu, I leave my jade shogi set, that he may always remember the thoughts and words we have shared.
To Nando, the shopkeeper, I leave my cooking recipes, to be found in my home desk, as thanks for his care and kindness in my illness. My family's days would have been dark indeed without your special curries to cheer them. May the spice that you have brought into our lives be returned one thousand fold.
My office at the hospital I leave to whosoever is named my successor a lead vascular surgeon. This is to include my notes, records, research, and models.
My office desk and all of its contents I leave to Dr. Chi Rippa, the greatest Shinobi it has ever been my pleasure to know. Our clans have had little occasion to interact, but I leave you what little I can in hope that you will accept this offering from a regretful spirit.
I leave to the Nara Clan, pursuant to Konoha law and tradition, my storefront in town with all of its furnishings and trappings. My family has outgrown the need for my humble business, and I plant it as a seed for the future of the clan which I have loved so much in life.
If I have omitted or slighted anyone, I apologize deeply, and attest that it was not my intention. Though my possessions have not stretched adequately to thank you for the roles you have played, my spirit holds no such limit, and looks kindly on you.
I will that my medical and legal fees be paid from the remainder of the profits of my business, and that the Village of Konoha keep my insurance, pension, and veteran's benefits to build a small garden in town to be enjoyed by all.
May it be said that, though I did not die a warrior's death, my path was always one of immediacy. May it be said that, in looking forward, I always held in my vision the image of a brighter and more prosperous Konoha.
With All of my Love,
Dr. Nara Shikanaoe
Shinako was exhausted, but had long since stopped crying. Her father had left his affairs mostly in order, and in the hands of competent lawyers, but out of a personal need for closure, she had been involved every step of the way, going to far as to write all of the thank-you letters for the funeral offerings, as well as the letters informing all of her father's inheritors of his final will.
It was this duty that had brought her to the hospital. The medical corps had not yet named a successor for her father, but her cousin, Nara Shikasugu was to be expected. After tidying and organizing, there was but one task remaining, and that was to successfully pass on the contents of her father's desk to Dr. Chi Rippa.
Unlike everyone else mentioned in her father's will and personal letters, Shinako had not met the young doctor. She had dressed for the occasion, in a fine black kimono made of silk, to signify her mourning. The desk had been sealed in a rather large scroll by Shikanaoe himself before his death, and Shinako had written promptly to Dr. Chi Rippa, introducing herself as the daughter of the Lead Vascular Surgeon and informing him of his inheritance.
Reading over some of her father's personal letters, Shinako waited patiently for the Doctor to arrive. The office was brighter and more open than she remembered, with sunlight pouring through the second-floor bay windows.