Mourning Sunshine 1


Pairing: KakaIru

Rating: PG/K

Warnings: heavy angst, POV


Anniversary

I find you exactly where I expected, sitting on the bed, clutching a bedraggled orange jacket and a battered picture frame. You're crying. This is the only time I ever see you cry. It's that day again. Eighteen years ago, and again two years ago, and it never stops hurting. You see them in every sunshine day, and still expect the bright blur of color, the loud laugh, but know they'll never come. Doesn't stop you from expecting it, desperately wanting it. The bright flash of blond in two team photos, and I'm crying, too.

The more recent hurt is worse, more so for the not knowing. A mission, no body recovered. The hunter-nin found only a scrap of dirty orange and a necklace. Hokage-sama listed him as missing-in-action, presumed dead. But. But there's still that slim, tiny chance, and part of you won't let go. He was my student longer than yours, but he held a dearer reminder for you, of a patient hand and a yellow flash. Of a special kunai, and the same brilliant smile you see in stereo when you hold the photos side by side. You still feel like you failed him, like his other teammate, the one no one will talk about but he never gave up on. The one he disappeared looking for.

The first year, I teared up at the sight of dandelions, frogs, Ichraku. You were dry-eyed and tense the whole day, until I found you like this around midnight. And now it's another year gone. Another year where sunshine is dead and no one wears that stupid walrus hat to bed, or blushes when you tease him about Hinata-san, or gets punched across rooms by an enraged Sakura-kun. No one proudly stuffs that fat frog purse, or brags loudly that he'll be Hokage one day, or gets ambushed by Konohamaru. No one eats Ichiraku out of pork ramen. No one wears retina-burning shades of orange. No one looks disconcertingly like the older loss.

He will never be Hokage.

Your shoulders hitch, and I move towards you. You turn reddened, mismatched eyes towards me and pat the bed next to you. I sit and wrap my arms around you. Wordlessly, you hand me the walrus hat.