I don't own anything Naruto. This story is based off of "Dresser Drawer" from Amos Lee, and I don't own the rights to that, either.
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Most ninjas lose their loved ones in the quick and bloody heat of battle.
Kakashi would have preferred that. The slow dimming of what once brightened his life was far more tortuous than the abrupt burn out of a clean death.
He had lost many close to him. It was a part of a shinobi's life and one he never handled without imparting some of the guilt on himself. That was to be expected, and any who were even halfway familiar with him knew he respected the long dead with self-inflicted emotional torment. He had his reasons. He had lived with it for years.
That was, until she showed him another way.
Kakashi had always felt old, even as a child. It wasn't that he was always taller or the color of his hair, but because of the pain in his eyes he didn't learn to hide until later. His father was the shame of his generation and died in a pitiful way. When Kakashi walked in and found the body, he decided to hide his life in obscurity. He donned a mask and focused on being the honorable shinobi that his father could not be.
He learned only too late that path would cost him his teammates. Obito had taught him the lesson his father could never put into words and the means to finally become his own ninja. Of course, with his sacrifice came more blame, but Kakashi knew he could bear it. It was a small price to pay for the means to protect one's friends.
But they just kept dying, anyways.
It was foolish to think he could protect them all, but there were too many in too short of time. The number of graves to visit increased and people began teasing him about being late all the time. As the city slowly came to life in the early mornings he would be with the long dead until his soul felt heavy enough to barely move forward. Someone once teased him saying it was why his posture was so bad. It didn't bother him. It was a routine he easily had slipped in to. He could show up late. He wasn't in a hurry for anyone else to die.
The sharp edge he had as a child reverted to a lackadaisical humor in his teens. It suited him. People asked less questions when you never gave them a straight answer. Smiling under the mask was more of a disguise then the stretchy fabric ever could have been. He was comfortable in his lonely routine of mournful friend and elite ninja.
Then, the hokage had to go and fuck it all up.
To say he was disappointed in being order to train genin was like saying Orichimaru thought science was kind of neat or Jiraya was generally was fond of breasts. He was in the Third's office almost immediately after being handed the scroll and threw it down with distain. Kakashi had argued that his talents would be wasted on such a menial task. Of course, the Hokage argued that the future of Konoha was more important and the Copy-Nin had left fuming.
So, he failed all his potential teams and took ANBU missions between graduation dates. Again, it was a secure routine he coaxed into. Visit graves. Crush soul with guilt. Crush spirits of genin. Feel nothing about that. Kill rogue ninjas. Don't forget about a whole lot of reading. It was no wonder he never saw the chalkboard eraser upside his head or the team he thought was able to live up to Obito's ninja way coming before he was too late to stop either.
Long story short, as it turns out, Kakashi was a terrible teacher.
He still had Team Seven's photo, but it was no longer on display. It was where he kept everything else that reminded him of her.
In all honesty, they were doomed from the start.
As Sakura always had, she changed significantly when he wasn't looking until one day he finally did. She was no longer the bubble gum, love-struck, hopeless genin or the fiery, off-the-handle, repressed teenager, but a woman. A still easily irate woman, but grown just the same. She worked too hard and trusted too easily, even after everything she had been through. Sakura shined, and when she looked his way he thought he would go blind.
Their relationship went slow and casual. They had relearned each other in their different roles until one night the cautious flirting escalated and he didn't have the strength to tell her 'no'.
He was happy, and she made him actually feel good about being happy. She taught him to remember without remorse, and to honor those that have died by living a life they would be proud of. He did- with her, in her, for her- but, as with anything else in his life, perhaps he was too late.
If he thought he had felt old before, as their relationship continued the age difference became a strain. Her vibrancy that once drew him towards her wore him out. His calm manner that she once found comforting now bored her. They ran out of things to talk about and his older allure faded as she matured more and figured out just how full of shit he actually was. She slipped from his fingers and he could not find a way to hold on. Kakashi failed her, but not because he couldn't protect her, but because he couldn't be anyone other than himself.
After a particularly long mission he came home was not completely surprised to find it empty. Usually, when Kakashi lost someone, he could visit their headstone and continue one-sided conversations. This was so much worse. He could catch glimpses of pink hair in crowds. He would run into her at the hospital. He could hear traces of her coy laughter and randomly scent her shampoo. He could not go to her because she was alive, but he did know how to mourn his loss in any other way than what he had been comfortable with since he was a child.
The rickety nightstand drawer slid harshly with the absence of one of its tracks, and though the top was dusty the contents were covered in fingerprints. The framed photo of Team Seven, the secret letters they had sent each other, and even her gold band she had left behind all served as Sakura's Memorial. Kakashi had never completely said good-bye before, choosing instead to hang on to the guilt of the loss, and with Sakura it would be no different except for the fact that he never had anything to say.
Kakashi carried many ghosts with him throughout his life, but never before was one of them still alive.
…
A/N: Something I banged out real quick, which is why it seems a bit rough. Maybe I'll clean it up later, I don't know.
However, I think even though many of the things mentioned in the song aren't in the story, it supplements it well. You should give it a listen. :]