Kakshi sat down with a pen in his rough hands, and fiddle it around his fingertips. He brought it up to his lips and bit on the end of the pen cap. He had a bad habit of chewing on the tops ever since he saw his student Naruto do it on his final exam.
"Sensei? A-are we going to start class soon?" His student asked him.
Kakashi looked down and saw a small brunette girl pulling on his pants. He should remember her name one day.
"Yes, take a seat, we're starting soon." He replied, and ruffled her hair. Kakashi had trouble remembering the little things—like what day of the week it was, or who he had to make a phone call to.
"Umm, Sensei? What lesson are we doing today?"
He couldn't remember. Maybe because he was old—very old. His memory was long destroyed in the years of loneliness. Kakashi sat in his desk and closed his eyes momentarily. He saw behind his eyelids the raging war that had swallowed up the village.
But, that was nearly thirty years ago, and the war was long over. The memories of pain and suffering, however, were never forgotten. They were like permanent images, stapled to the back of his eyelids.
Kakashi remembered Sakura, and her beautiful green eyes. They were so full of passion and determination. Hell, she was a cry baby, but at least she didn't pretend that something's hurt.
And his students questioned him all the time. They teased him and called him old, but at least it was the truth. He spent his days writing down notes, and telling stories. Sometimes he would forget doctor appointments and names of his students.
But he would never forget his three students. He would never forget Sasuke's resemblance to his younger days, and Naruto bright cheerful smile. He would be hell bound if he ever forgot Naruto's smile.
Blue cerulean eyes, the colour of the skies; solid black orbs, so sure of what to do; and awe struck emerald orbs, that hid no lies. It was like looking into a vast keep— like an arrangement of flowers.
His new students had always said, "Kakashi-sensei, you forget a lot of things." And Kakashi would just smile and pretend that they were right.
Writers were always the forgetful kind, but that's only because they are too busy remembering the very important things.
"I'm going to be Hokage someday!"
