Red. Why did it have to be red? How he hated the color. The man found himself gagging at the sight as he brought the bowl closer. 'Food is food.' he thought . He picked up a skewer and brought it down, spearing a piece of watermelon. It gave a slight resistance, and he cringed at the feel. Bringing the fruit up to his face, repulsion swept over him, causing him to stop. He couldn't eat this, not straight from a mission, while the memories were still fresh. Watermelon currently disgusted him. The red, fleshy color coupled with the resistance of being stabbed, it was to much like the opposing shinobi he slew. He threw the bowl on the floor, watching it shatter. The fruit sat on the floor, mocking him almost. He glared at it, not wanting to move. How could he eat something that reminded him so much of a human being? He couldn't take being in the room any longer, so he left his home, thinking that a walk would help him clear his mind.
He got out to the crisp evening air, and just began walking aimlessly around the village, not caring where he ended up. At one part the evening he tripped, falling to the ground. After he picked himself up and began dusting himself off, he noticed a slight abnormality. His hands, there was blood on them. Not just a little bit either, but they were coated in the substance. He tried to remain calm and just wipe them on his pants. No good. He began to scrub harder. Still nothing. He began to get frantic, wiping and scrubbing them on anything: his pants, the ground, even the wooden stand he was next to. He only succeeded in taking off a few layers of skin and gaining splinters. It was still there. Unable to take it anymore, the man began to run. Somewhere, anywhere , was better than being in the village.
The color red, it was doing this to him. His hatred for the color soared to new heights.
In his blind run, he ran into something. That something was the 14 year-old chunin Kurenai Yuuhi. The two of them crashed to the ground. A slightly dazed, if not agitated, Kurenai recovered first. She got up and and was going to give this guy a piece of her mind, until she saw the hyperventilating jounin. His breathing was ragged, and he was looking at his hands for some reason, and his visible eye was twitching in its socket. When he finally noticed her, he looked from his hands to her eyes. Her wine-red eyes. Her blood-redeyes. The color that held so much pain for him, was currently gazing at him with concern. He held her gaze, almost as if he was hypnotized, until her voice brought him out of him trance. "Hey, Kakashi, are you all right?" The simple question caught him off guard. He had expected to receive a whack on the head, or a tongue-lashing, but not that. The silver-haired jounin quickly regained himself. He profusely muttered his apology while picking himself up, kindly refusing her out-held hand. "You look sick, are you all right?" she repeated. While dusting off himself for the second time that night, he noticed that the blood was gone. He stared for a few moments before allowing himself a light grin. He looked back at the raven-haired kunoichi and said "Yes, I feel… alright. Not the greatest but alright." At 'feel' her cool hand came up to test his temperature. "You're a little warm, you better go home and get some rest." "Right, home…and rest." Kakashi turned and began to walk the way he had come before turning around. "Kurenai…" he said. "Yeah, what's up?" "…Thank you." With that, they parted ways once more.
When he was halfway back to his apartment, he began to think: 'Maybe red isn't such a bad color after all.'