Regret, a naruto fanfic

The very, VERY late counterpart to With the Sky in His Eyes. I swear I died many times while trying to write this... this abominable thing which grew from a normal-sized oneshot into a perfectionist-side-gone-crazy MONSTER. And if you're not familiar with my perfectionist tendencies, well... you'll see.

OTL

Heavily influenced by one of i/sensei's doujinshi. (She is the ultimate BEST KakaNaru fanartist there is out there, and nobody will ever be her equal... QAQ)

Also, ton of references to Sky in this fic. As well as references to the sky. \o/

Warning: KAKASHI-FEELZ. As in, Kakashi is going to have lots and lots of FEEEEEEEELZ, which means I had a lot of FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELZ while writing this fic, and... you're probably going to have a lot of FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELZ as well. So, um, yeah. Feelz.

[In case you're not familiar with such a use of the word, "feels" is informal webspeak for intense feelings. XD]

Also, when I wrote some of the later sections I had just read the latest Naruto chapter (675) which means lots and lots of HAPPY FEELZ leading to... things. Anyway. NARUTO GIVES THE BEST GIFTS but only to Kakashi because of REASONS that keep me awake at 3am. Never underestimate the power of FEELZ.

/bricked

...In any case, consider yourself sufficiently warned. QAQ

Kakashi thought he knew regret.

Sakumo knew that his son had died alone.

There was something in his eye that showed it – a lingering strand of attachment wound tightly around something never quite fulfilled, pulling at him, and hurting even as he smiled. It was the reason Kakashi had ended up in that place with him, father and son trapped in the same quiet loneliness, unable to move on even after death had claimed them both.

"Will you tell me about yourself?" he asked the man his son had grown up to be in those long, long years without him, wanting something to fill the gaps in both their hearts.

And so Kakashi did, recounting his life bit-by-bit until Sakumo could see how everything pieced together and made him who he was. Yet for some reason that single-eyed gaze kept flicking away to stare into the surrounding emptiness, thoughtful and sad, as though he was looking for something which was not there. The something of his lonely death only seemed to grow as Kakashi spoke, and Sakumo wondered if his son even knew what it really was.

A distant longing.

A helpless pain.

Regret

Before the battle started, Naruto allowed himself one – just one – bit of selfishness, and sent a Kage Bunshin out into the destruction.

He was looking for a person.

Just one person.

—Just one bit of selfishness, just one Kage Bunshin, just one person.

Please.

(But in the end he didn't find Kakashi, he only found his body.)

Chuunin Hatake Kakashi didn't know what to feel when he returned home in the dead of the night to find just one body in (what had been) his father's room, along with the overpowering scent of blood.

Hours later, after the Hokage and Minato-sensei and people he didn't – couldn't? – recognise had come and left, he took his dead father out into the raging thunderstorm.

He looked up at the tumultuous sky, trying to think, trying to feel, trying to find anything that could give him an answer—

And then, finding none, called the lightning to his hand.

He didn't remember how many times he did it, nor how much of the ground and the surrounding trees he destroyed, but eventually the storm died down – for he made it fade away – and he was left staring at the corpse with a single spark of electricity left in his fingers.

It was only just enough to start a fire.

He pulled the bloodstained tanto from his father's body, and watched him burn until there was nothing left. (Not even the answer he was hoping for – the answer to his simple question of why.)

Nobody ever mentioned his father after that, for even amongst shinobi it was considered a taboo to speak ill of the dead. (Although there was once, only once, when Jiraiya who was very very drunk had called him Sakumo and an idiot.)

Konoha no Shiroi Kiba became nothing more than a name buried in the past, a once-legend whose honour was forfeited, restored, then turned to ash and scattered in the wind.

And so Kakashi grew up with the white shroud of honour-that-had-been-restored-with-death heavy on his shoulders, shielding him from the shadows which stalked him incessantly, whispering failure and shame and all those terrible words which had haunted his father into his grave.

I will not abandon my duty, he swore quietly, drawing his father's blade. I will not fail.

Years later, jounin Hatake Kakashi returned home with a blade that was broken and an eye that burned, reminding him that he had finally gotten his answer.

I'm sorry, he told the gift, for the one who had wanted him to have it was no longer there. It's my fault.

Kakashi stared at the name carved into stone, and thought he knew regret.

"I am proud of you now," Kakashi said softly. "I am proud of my father... who broke the rules for the people he cared about."

I understand what you did back then, and why.

"Thank you," Sakumo finally answered in a voice half-choked with emotion, then turned his gaze towards the fire. Neither of them said any more for a while, letting the words and the acceptance slowly fall into place between them. Eventually Sakumo spoke.

"You have been through a lot, Kakashi... but there's one more thing you have yet to tell me. How did you die?"

His gaze lowered. "You asked about my life, Father."

"And that includes its end."

The older of the two shinobi paused, clearly expecting an answer.

"Well?"

Kakashi's posture did not change as he continued to watch the flickering fire, yet there was something about the look in his eye that seemed different, almost distant.

"Chakra exhaustion."

"You are not careless," Sakumo said slowly. "No, you are too much like your mother for that. Was it sacrifice?" It was hardly a question, and his son shrugged.

"It was necessary. If the information gets to Tsunade, she shall be able to convey it to the others... and to Naruto." He paused, swallowing. "It could be the key to defeating Pain."

It could be the key in ensuring Naruto's survival, but that he would never know. It was no longer his responsibility, no longer his duty, because there truly was nothing he could do that would reach the ones still living. He realised, then, that he could do no more for Naruto.

Nothing.

And yet, his thoughts fixed themselves on the boy who probably was fighting at the moment – or was about to fight, or had fought already, he knew nothing of how time passed in the realm of the deceased – fighting to protect what he had been entrusted with, fierce and desperate and never giving up because Konoha was his home. He wondered if Naruto had received the information he gave his life for, what difficulties he would still face, whether he would fall and whether there would be anyone to catch him. He wondered whether Naruto already knew he had fallen, and realised with cold, numb dread that he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure... if he wanted Jiraiya's student who still mourned the loss of one mentor to know.

Kakashi thought he knew regret, but the sudden pain that pierced his chest and locked in his throat and burned behind both eyes was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He felt suddenly helpless, trapped in a place he thought he had been willing to go because Hatake Kakashi had been chasing ghosts and living only for the sake of people already gone, had done it for almost his entire life – so death should have been the closure he had wanted but never sought. He was one of Them now, forever separated from the people left behind like how They had once been separated from him, but...

The guilt he had carried for so long had already slipped from his shoulders, leaving him open to be utterly crushed beneath the regret that felt like one unending scream.

I want to see him again, the desperate cry tore from his heart, but never reached its destination. Once more, just once more—

And yet, he was dead.

Kakashi died with the sky in his eyes.

"Father," the sound of his strangled voice was odd and distant to his ears. "I am dead."

Accept it, he told himself. There is nothing left that you can do.

But it hurt too much.

But there was nothing he could do about that, either.

The flame's flickering light was blocked from his blank, despairing gaze as his father crouched in front of him and placed both hands on his shoulders. Kakashi blinked.

He hadn't realised he was shaking.

"We died young," Sakumo said quietly. "Though not as young as your mother."

Kakashi barely remembered her, yet stray fragments of his childhood and the lingering sadness in his father's eyes called back the dull ache of loss.

"Do you know, Kakashi? A parent's greatest and most desperate desire is for his child to live a long and happy life." The older man tightened his grip, trying to find the words that could bring across what he wanted to express.

Kakashi watched him, and wondered.

"I wanted to ensure your survival in a harsh world. I wanted to make you strong so you would never fall to the same pressures that broke me – so you would be able to stand your ground against human weakness and human cruelty. And I have always had high expectations of you because I wanted you to live, and live well." He closed his eyes. "And then, I left you."

Kakashi's voice was low, even as his gaze became shrewd and piercing. "Did it hurt less, after?"

Sakumo shifted his head slightly and seemed to look past him, staring into the darkness that stretched beyond the reach of firelight.

"No. I left too many regrets behind. And my greatest regret... is that I left you alone."

"I wasn't always alone, you know. But..." Kakashi stopped for a moment as his throat became unbearably tight. "But they all left. One by one they all died, until – "

A sudden flash of something in the fire caught his eye, something which was bright and vivid even against the flames. Kakashi stared at it, words forgotten and both eyes wide with disbelief.

He moved towards it, brushing past his father who watched him closely but said nothing. Despite the uncertainty of what he had almost seen, he yearned – for that familiar warmth, the bright and almost blinding presence that had barged its way into his life, and...

Was parted from him forever in death.

"You left someone behind."

Kakashi stiffened.

"I protected my comrades," he responded evenly, but did not turn to meet his father's eyes. "I sacrificed myself to protect Konoha."

Sakumo placed a hand on his son's shoulder, easily seeing past every defence and denial into the source of his emotional unrest. "You have regrets."

"It was a shinobi's death." Kakashi's voice rose slightly in challenge. "I made my choice, much as you did."

Sakumo flinched.

"Someone once asked... if forsaking one's village and country was as terrible as forsaking one's child." He laughed in self-deprecation, pulling back. "And I seem to have accomplished both." Seeing Kakashi's frown at that, he shook his head with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry."

"I forgave you a long time ago." Kakashi remained in his position by the fire, even as he felt the previous tension between them gradually drain away.

"Father." He hesitated. "Why... am I here?"

Sakumo shook his head slowly, and there was something frightening about the bleakness of his eyes. "You know the answer, my son. You are here for the same reason that I am."

"I..." Kakashi did indeed know the answer, yet could not bring himself to put it into words. His gaze flitted uncertainly as he continued watching the flames, searching for ghost images and something he could not (would not) name.

"In that case, why are you still here?" he asked instead, even as dread rose cold and heavy in his chest. "If... if I was the main focus of your regrets, then – "

The words fell away when his father bowed his head and clutched at it with both hands as though in pain.

"How can I free myself from this place, knowing that you are trapped here as well?" Sakumo's voice had turned very, very quiet. "How can I possibly feel any semblance of peace, when your presence in this unending abyss of regrets is proof of how much I've failed you? You have forgiven me for leaving you in such a manner, yet..."

He gave a terrible parody of a laugh then, low and broken, because neither of them remembered how to cry. "How can I leave this place to find your mother – to tell her that our son has grown up to be a great shinobi, strong and brave and loyal, but – "

Sakumo's son stared at him with startled eyes as he slowly raised his head to meet that mismatched gaze.

"But not happy, not even until the very end?"

Kakashi looked away.

The last thing he saw before darkness had been the clear, unclouded sky, untouched by the ruin and carnage which surrounded him and simply being –nothing less, nothing more.

He held on to that last image as he fell, held on to that vast and infinite blueness even as everything else fell away from him faster than he could catch them. As he told his father about his life it gradually became easier to release the burdens he had carried for so long, and gently detach those last few strands which linked him to places and people he would never see again.

His life almost felt like it had been one long and troubled dream, except...

That one last glimpse of blue, barely a hint or a shade of what he had seen in those bright, vivid eyes, which felt as real and as close to him as the blood in his veins.

And yet, he reminded himself, his blood had ceased to flow as his heart had stopped forever.

And yet, knowing that, why did it hurt so?

Remember

For many years he submerged himself in the shadows, aloof from those who laughed carelessly in the light of day. It suited his desire for a quiet existence, underlaid with just enough white noise to dampen the mutterings of his ghosts.

Kakashi avoided looking into the sky.

He knew it was easy – only too easy, really, for its deceptive calm to disintegrate into stormy madness, where thunder rumbled like the sound of falling rocks and lightning pierced mercilessly through...

The images overlapped, and he turned away.

It was safer, Kakashi thought, to keep his gaze upon smaller, simpler things like the book in his hand. Things which were far less likely to slip out of his grasp, or remind him time and time again of endless regrets.

And then, in the calm certainty of his imminent death, he raised his head.

Kakashi died with the sky in his eyes, and only then did he realise that he had lost even more in death than he had in life.

Late, he realised, and almost laughed at the bitter irony. Too late.

"What will you do?" his father asked, looking at him in a sort of sad sympathy because he knew that such a question was essentially pointless – what it presented was only the illusion of choice, and there was very little either of them could do anymore.

And yet...

Kakashi exhaled softly. "This is my penalty for always being late, I suppose."

He smiled at the memories, closing his eyes.

"Maa, that's all right. I'll wait."

In that moment a faint breeze arose, stirring the previously stagnant air of their surroundings. A single leaf fluttered in its descent from the vague space above, too dark and empty to be called a sky, and brushed gently against his cheek.

Kakashi's eyes flew open and he jolted as though awakening from a dream, startled by the shadow of a caress. A surge of pure energy rushed through him as a veil of luminous green fell over his vision, and he found himself standing upright with no recollection of when and how he had gotten to his feet. And even the noise of rushing winds could not obscure the other sound he was suddenly able to hear:

A heartbeat. His own.

It was impossible.

Return

Sakumo was just as surprised as his son when a bright green light shone through the unending darkness, abruptly bridging the distance between their realm and that of the living. But when Kakashi turned to him, disbelief and confusion and raw, painful hope only too evident in his mismatched eyes, Sakumo smiled.

"It seems like it was too soon for you to come here... there must be something you're still meant to do," he murmured. "I'm glad. I never expected to have this chance to speak with you, and it truly comes as a relief that you will not be trapped here as I have been."

Kakashi stared at him, stunned by the suddenness of everything and posture frozen in disbelief. "Father?"

"Thank you for forgiving me," Sakumo said warmly. "Now I can move on in peace... I'll finally be able to see your mother." He paused, eyes distant and fond as he was finally, finally able to think of her – quiet voice, kind eyes and a will of steel – without that old familiar stab of loss. Even after years had passed he still wished she could have had more time with them, to watch over their boy who took after her in more ways than he would ever know...

The time they had left was little, Sakumo knew, but even so he was determined to make the most it. "Perhaps I no longer have the right to act as your father after all that has happened, and I know your mother would've been far more eloquent than I can ever be." His smile turned a little wry at that, recalling her gift with language and innate sense of its beauty. (And he had fallen straight in, hopelessly captivated, from the moment he first laid eyes on her secret manuscripts.)

With a soft laugh, he shook off the memories.

"Still, would you listen to these last few words of mine?"

Sakumo knew his son had died alone.

He wondered if anyone would try to find him.

And he also wondered, bittersweet smile almost at his lips, if there would be anyone who mourned for Kakashi just as he had once mourned for the boy's mother (for his son had still been a boy then, only a boy).

Kakashi died with a smile none could see and none would ever know of, believing himself ready for the end of a life that had so often felt like a dark and death-filled dream. But only then did he realise (late, late, late) that there had been so much more he could have lived for – and so much he had truly lived for – and only too much that he wanted to live for.

He had believed – or rather assumed, and perhaps even hoped that death would be...

Kakashi found himself suddenly unsure of what he had thought it would be.

Not the solution or the resolution, he knew, for few things in his life ever had either,and the only notable exception he could remember was the ending of Icha Icha Tactics. But regardless of what he had thought death to be, the sheer maelstrom of emotional turmoil was the last thing he had expected—

Ah.

Of course.

He really should have known.

Kakashi died with the sky in his eyes.

And yet, he lived.

If dying was like falling, Kakashi thought, then coming back to life was like being caught halfway and violently flung in the opposite direction.

Ow.

He blinked open his right eye, keeping the other one closed out of habit and a very definite desire not to suffer its chakra drain so soon after dying from that exact reason. There was just too much he had to live for, after all.

A stray leaf fell off his face as he sat up abruptly, mind so full of thoughts and feelings and everything that he barely listened to Katsuyu's explanation to what had just happened. I already know it's because of you, Naruto. Once again, you've made the impossible happen.

And once again he found himself thinking, I want to see him.

But this time...

"Sorry," he muttered to Chouji and Chouza, brushing aside their concerns with a brief smile. "There's something I have to do." He disappeared before either could protest or call for a medic, skilfully evading all other Konoha-nin along his way with the ease of long practice.

Kakashi knew he was pushing himself as he raced through the forest, breaths coming in short gasps and heart thundering wildly in his chest. His lungs burned from the exertion, yet his entire self burned more with a feeling of desperate impatience.

I want to see him.

He stumbled as his legs almost forgot how to work and paused for a moment to catch his breath, bracing his arm against the tree trunk. Silver hair fell over his eyes and he shook his head, then paused at a sudden thought. It wouldn't do to look so dishevelled in front of the village's hero, he mused, tying his hitai-ate back onto his head. I have no intention of getting yelled at, and he's bound to be even angrier than Kushina if I show up in such a state...

Maa, I suppose I'm allowed to be reckless once in a while.

Kakashi took a deep breath and drew on his chakra, ignoring the dizziness that came from the action in favour of spreading it as far as he dared.

I want to see him.

Once more, yet again, and then so many times until he lost count...

He would continue to seek the warmth of that presence for as long as he would once again live, forever and always.

When Kakashi finally found him, tired blue eyes were fixed upon the sky above.

He was unused to seeing such an expression on that face, yet it felt more than familiar for he had often worn it himself. A strange feeling rose in him at the sight, for something had changed within those eyes while he was not there – and yet so much had remained the same...

You will never cease to amaze me, Naruto.

He watched as the blond closed his eyes, conflicting emotions of grief and hope evident in the crease of his brow and the tension of that usually-smiling mouth. He seemed to be trying to concentrate on something, and Kakashi thought he saw smudges of orange-red flicker unsteadily around the corners of eyes squeezed tightly shut.

And then, just as Kakashi was about to call out to him, the exhausted young man began to fall.

I've probably done this too many times already, Kakashi realised wryly, half a heartbeat after his body moved itself into the most comfortable position to catch Naruto against his back. (And while 'practice makes perfect' had been his childhood training motto, he had never thought he would to apply it to a situation so far out of its original context...)

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him as Naruto went completely still, and Kakashi tried not to wince as he mentally braced himself for a possible explosion right next to his ear. Arms tightened around him, shaking slightly with fatigue yet unrelenting in their death grip against his chest. He felt a deep shudder pass through Naruto's frame, felt it resonate with something within himself which he had never quite dared to examine before that day.

And then all the tension seemed to melt out of the blond as he breathed, "Kakashi-sensei..."

Kakashi smiled, feeling almost light-headed from the unfamiliar feelings bubbling up in his chest. "Lean on me," he replied simply, and there was a world of meaning within those three little words.

Naruto's only response was to snuggle closer to him, just as content as Kakashi was to let words be words. And somehow that was enough, for there was nothing more either of them desired... all that mattered in that moment were the quiet comfort and solid reassurance of each other's presence.

"You've done well," Kakashi murmured, looking upon that whisker-lined face and impossibly blue eyes with a tenderness he never knew he possessed.

Naruto hummed quietly in response, tilting his head up to glance at the sky above.

And then he smiled, soft and hopeful and warm, like the feeling of home.

Five seconds.

That's what you gave your life for, Kakashi-sensei.

But now that I've gotten you back, you can be sure I'll give you a lifetime.

Kakashi slipped away silently as the joyful village rushed forward to welcome its hero, not wanting to distract Naruto from the exhilaration of receiving the acknowledgement and welcome he had always yearned for. He could always seek him out later, after all.

Faint echoes of melancholy faded away into calm anticipation of that later as Kakashi watched Naruto from that patient distance, and let his thoughts drift back to his father's parting words.

"A memorial is something you visit, not something you become," Sakumo said gently. "Live a long and fulfilling life before we meet again, my son – and when we do, it would be best for you to bring some form of proof."

"Proof...?" Kakashi blinked. "What proof?"

The amused glint in his father's eyes reminded him of a certain writer, which then brought to mind a particular green book, and... the person who had given it to him...

Kakashi stared.

"Preferably in person, too," Sakumo added, and began to laugh because expression on his son's face was absolutely priceless, "So your mother will be convinced!"

He was pulled out of his musings when Naruto appeared in front of him and promptly resumed his earlier clinginess with a brief, half-hearted excuse.

"You've gotten heavier," Kakashi said, but it was in no way a complaint and Naruto only smiled at him as he made no move to extract himself. So this is what I have returned to, he realised belatedly, and something within his chest felt light.

I'm back...

"Okaeri," Kakashi murmured, at a sudden urge to draw closer the feeling of warmth, of what was home.

Naruto's eyes looked startled for only a second before he grabbed the man and hugged him as tightly as he could.

"Okaeri," he whispered fiercely in reply, not letting go of the embrace. "Okaeri."

OHMYGOD IT'S FINALLY FINISHED. /fallsoverdead

I swear I've never spent so long editing ANY other work in my entire life. Not even my research essays had THIS much blood-puking in the writing process... QAQQQQQQQ This fic is definitely longer than my longest research essay, too. QAQ

Some notes:

The double "okaeri": instead of the traditional tadaima/okaeri ("I'm home." / "Welcome home.") exchange, I decided to have both of them say okaeri because it fits them – Kakashi is telling Naruto welcome home to Konoha and also to the place the blond holds in his heart, while Naruto is saying welcome back to life and also making it clear that Kakashi holds a just as important place in his heart.

Also, just in case "bringing proof" sounded morbid or something to you: Kakashi being who he is, he'll probably wait for Naruto to join him before fully moving on in the afterlife. Which is what he would've done if he hadn't been revived, although in that situation he had also accepted the possibility of Naruto moving on without him... but smiled about it all the same, because that's the kind of person Kakashi is.

Regarding Kakashi's mother: I was struck by a sudden thought that it would be really really interesting if she was partially based off Murasaki Shikibu, author of The Tale of Genji. I had also always imagined her as a serious, sometimes rather strict kunoichi with a sort of calm quietness about her, precise and careful at all times and only letting her emotions surface in her writing. These traits are reflected in Kakashi's professionalism as a shinobi, his usually reserved nature and his fondness for reading (interesting choice of literature, though... XD).

The way he covers half his face with a mask would also parallel her concealment of her inner feelings, so when Sakumo happened to read her manuscripts it created a sense of intimacy between them just like what would happen if Kakashi finally decides to reveal his face to someone. Kakashi is also a "smooth talker", which could be yet another way he inherited her affinity for words... or eloquence, as Sakumo described.

...I don't know. I just got the idea that maybe Kakashi takes after his mother in more ways than one would initially realise, just like Naruto obviously looks a lot like his father at first glance but is really much more like his mother instead. Also, Kakashi definitely has a narrower jawline than Sakumo, as well as... I can't decide if those are softer or sharper features. OTL But anyway, since his face shape isn't quite like his father, he must have inherited that from his mother just like Naruto. Hair and eye colours from the father and facial structure from the mother, hmm...

I seem to have gone rather off track. XD

Also, now I have mental images of a lovely lady with long hair and pretty eyes telling a reeeeeeally tiny Kakashi fascinating bedtime stories. QAQ (I also suddenly wonder what could've happened if Kakashi had met his mother instead of his father while he was dead... \o/ Maybe I'll make a ficlet out of that.)

Anyway, I hope you liked this fic! I really loved writing this, despite the number of times it practically drove me nuts...

/gross sobbing because of too many FEEEEEEEEEELZ. QAQQQQQQQQQ