He then appears on Tsunade's doorstep, ducking down so that his hair does not knock over the hanging plant he had once given her. He only has to knock once before the door creaks open to reveal a half-dressed (though surprisingly sober) Tsunade, but he has to blink several times to dismiss the spinning lights after she plants a royal punch squarely in between his eyes. She tightens her bathrobe, tells him that he ought to warn her before coming at this hour of the night, thank you very much, then offers him a hand. He takes it, still rather shaken, only to be punched again as his gaze wanders inevitably to her exaggerated cleavage. She then turns around and stalks regally back into her apartment, leaving Sakumo to stagger to his feet on his own. All signs point to her wanting him to leave, but she left the door open accidentally-on-purpose and he takes this as an invitation inside.
He walks in after her, casual as you please, intercepting her at her bedroom door. Ever the gentleman, he presses his arm against the wall, leaning over her, some of his hair drooping past his eyes. His eyes lock with hers, and she is able to read them like an open book; she can clearly see the love he feels he hadn't given, the pain he is too ashamed to share, the sorrow he has tried not to show. She can tell that he is hurting, she can tell that he is missing having someone to go to sleep with at night, she can tell that he needs her more than anything else right now.
He leans in towards her, and she feels her heart beating as it always does when he does that, and he tickles her nose with his before diving into a kiss. She can tell that he needs it almost as much as she does, and so she gives it back to him. They stand there for a length of time they don't care to measure before he pulls away from her ever so slowly, looks her straight in the eye, and tells her he needs to talk.
She pulls away from him too, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, trying to make sense of his now unreadable expression. She lets him guide her over to the couch, sits down much more politely than usual, and watches him curiously as he sits down across from her. He sits perched on the edge of a tattered armchair, his hands clasped together in his lap, his head facing forward.
He looks her straight in the eye and tells her he is going to kill himself.
Tsunade blinks twice— once to help her brain register the shock, again to hold back the tears.
She asks him why, her voice soft and trembling. He hesitates before throwing the question back at her, his tone incredulous. She considers the circumstances of the past few weeks for a moment before realization dawns upon her, causing her mouth to fall open in a little "oh".
Both of their eyes narrow.
She asks him again, cocking her head to the side. Her tone is defiant this time as she glares at him, her eyes narrowed into two angry brown slits. He meets them wearily, his dark eyes sullen and resigned. He blinks before dropping his gaze, and she can tell that he is faltering, reconsidering, thinking. A spark of hope leaps in her chest, and her expression softens for only a moment as she thinks he is changing his mind. When he raises his head, however, determination is written all over his face and his eyes have regained some of their old steely tone.
He takes a deep breath, and he tells her everything.
He tells her how he had fought fiercely with his wife when Kakashi was born, he tells her how guilt had torn his heart when she left, he tells her how his mind had come to the same conclusion it has reached now when she died. He tells her how, the night after she died, he had double-checked that Kakashi would not be home, how he had polished his tantou and, trembling, pressed it against his abdomen. He tells her how he had noticed that the he had left the window open, how he had walked over to shut it but paused as he saw a little boy trailing after a taller man, a stronger man, presumably the boy's father. He had watched, waiting for them to leave, and he had noticed how the boy seemed to rely on his father's firm hand to guide him down the dark street, how he had clung to his father's leg when the bark of a dog scared him, how his father had picked him up and held him in his arms until he stopped crying.
After seeing this, he tells her, he had slid down the wooden wall, sobbing into his knees.
He opens his mouth as if he is going to say more, but Tsunade interrupts. She had asks him if he had stopped because the boy reminded him of Kakashi.
Sakumo nods only once.
Tsunade jumps to her feet, the color rising in her face. Why, she demands, would he feel that it was okay to abandon Kakashi now, even if he had understood in the past how much Kakashi needed him? Why is it suddenly appropriate to break and leave Kakashi to pick up the pieces?
There is silence as Tsunade stands there, her chest rising and falling as she breathes heavily with anger. Sakumo remains seated, his eyes following her movement as she slowly seems to deflate, as her breathing rate returns to normal. He opens his mouth twice, once to indicate that he wants to speak, again to find his words. He swallows before saying that that had been different, that Kakashi had just lost one parent and it would have completely destroyed him to lose another in the space of two days.
Tsunade flares up again immediately, asking him why this time was any different, asking him if he honestly thought that Kakashi would be able to lose his father and still wake up smiling. Sakumo grows angrier, saying that if he were around Kakashi would never smile again. He finds himself rising to his feet to meet her fiery gaze, finds himself trying to shout over her, finds himself screaming in frustration as she keeps pelting question after question, accusation after accusation at him. What makes him think Kakashi hated his father as much as the village did? she wants to know. What makes him so sure that Kakashi would never be able to find it within himself to smile again?
Sakumo tries to fight back, but he has no answers, and she knows that he doesn't. He keeps saying that he has failed his son, that there is no going back, that he just can't be happy like this anymore, but these are all empty responses. She continues to fire her words at him, continues to bombard him with questions, continues to force him to reconsider everything he has been telling himself for the past fortnight. She overpowers him, causing him to sink back down into his chair and massage his forehead with his bandaged fingers.
She continues to scream at him, her voice jumping up and down in distress and anger and fright.She only falters when she notices that he is shaking, only stops when she realizes that he was crying.
The lights seem to flicker as she watches him fall apart at the seams, sobbing into his hands. She hesitates, unsure of what to do or what to say. Numb, not aware of what she is doing, she crouches down in front of him and brushes the back of one of his hands with her soft fingertips, lovingly pulling it away from his face. She takes his hand in hers, stroking it soothingly. His sobs do not lessen, his eyes do not flicker, but he wraps his fingers around hers and she can tell that he cares. She leans in closer to him, close enough that he can feel her warm breath on his tear-stained cheeks, close enough that he can hear her whisper words of comfort into his ear. He gulps twice, once to hold back a fresh wave of sobs, again to calm himself down. He blinks blearily, shifting his deadened gaze up to meet Tsunade's. Her wide brown eyes are brimming with tears, as are his dark and clouded ones, and the two of them stare at each other for the longest time, neither of them saying a word, both of them thinking the same thing.
Silence fills the room like an expanding balloon, suffocating both as each wills the other to say something. It is punctured by a choked sob, and Tsunade bites her lip as her shoulders start shaking. Their fingers still intertwined, Sakumo watches as she slowly hunches over, her tears bringing her down. He feels a tear trickle down his face, too, and his grip on her hand tightens as he bows his head, shaking just as much as she is.
She is crying on his lap now, asking the question over and over again as she buries her face in his knees. He is hovering awkwardly over her, bent over as his sobs drag him downward, as his will cracks slowly but surely. Still grasping tightly onto his fingers, still crouching down in front of him, she clutches the cloth of one of his pant legs as she sinks to her knees. She rocks back and forth, back and forth, willing him to hold on, praying to whatever gods there are that he will be able to pull through this.
He listens to her watery words, feels her nails dig into his palm. He begins to sway with her, keeping rhythm as she moves back and forth, back and forth. He prays, too, begging whatever gods there are that she will be able to make it through this.
Her sobs eventually subside. She does not move her head, resting it in his lap. He feels so warm, she thinks, and she never wants that warmth to go away.
His sobs eventually subside, too, but he does not feel a desperate longing for her as she does for him. Instead he grows afraid, afraid that he will fail her too, afraid that he will lose her just like he lost the last woman he loved. He fears being with her because he fears not being with her, and in his mind, this is the final word on the subject.
This is the moment when Sakumo decides to kill himself, no questions asked.
He figures she will be better off without him, he figures that there are lots of lovely men with good reputations and no broken families to keep her warm at night, figures that she'll be able to find someone else she can touch this softly, love this deeply.
Without letting go of her hand, he uses his other hand to cup her chin between his fingers and turn her face towards him. He leans in, bringing her face forward, gripping her hand more tightly than he has ever held something before.
He looks her in the eye, sees his reflection shimmering in her wide brown eyes, and he kisses her for the last time.
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The next morning, Kakashi's shrill screams echo around Konoha, and Tsunade knows she has lost him.
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Tsunade does not show up for the funeral. She doesn't think she can face all of those somber faces, all of those black outfits, all of that goddamn rain. Instead she waits until the crowd has dispersed, until there is only one person standing in front of the smooth stone grave. She walks towards him slowly, her feet splashing in the large black puddles, but she comes to an abrupt stop several meters behind him. She cannot bring herself to approach him, cannot bring herself to look upon the face that so closely resembles Sakumo's. It is bad enough to have her eyes locked on his hair, little droplets of water running off of those drooping silver spikes. Her lip trembles as she observes him; she knows that he is aware of her presence, but it doesn't seem to register in his brain. His eyes are wide and wet as he watches water run through the grooves in the stone that spell out his father's name. She sees that he is shaking, and although the rain drowns out all sound she knows that he is crying. She watches his delicate little fingers curl into a fist, watches him shake his head back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
He clenches his eyes shut, his quiet voice shaking as he mumbles an apology to the ever-silent gravestone. He whispers something to his father's grave, wipes his nose with his sleeve, and walks away.Tsunade waits until he is definitely gone. She walks up to the gravestone, wondering dimly if she should have done something to comfort him. She stops in front of it, trying to make out the name carved onto it through her tears.
Hatake Sakumo… She whispers it to herself, the words leaving a bittersweet taste in her mouth. She crouches down in front of the cold stone slab, tracing the characters in his name with one pale finger. She wonders what had been going through his mind when he kissed her that night, wondered if he had already made the final decision by the time he was running his fingers through her hair. She wonders where he is now— if he is watching her from heaven, if he is holding his wife in his arms. She wonders if he had expected her heart to break, wondered if he had expected Kakashi to catch him in the act, wondered if he had loved her as much as she had loved him.
She looks up to the crying skies and asks him if he is happy.