Do not stand at my grave and weep.
A Poemfic. Don't like? Don't read!
Disclaimer: I don't own Masashi Kishimoto or Mary Elizabeth Frye, so Naruto and the poem used aren't mine either.
Hatake Kakashi spent much of his time at the training ground which had a memorial stone. But now he didn't come here just to train, because the latest name engraved neatly into cool stone, was Obito's. Whenever he saw the stone, all thoughts of training until he dropped was postponed until he had spoken to his friend.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
Obito knew he would never be the same, that the instant he touched the other boy to push him away, that he had signed his life over. He hadn't expected his thought to be so true, even though he evaded death.
Kakashi hated using Chidori. It held too many raw emotions in crackling lightning that he had no idea how to tame. It was wild, but so beautiful. A weapon, a double-edged sword that he knew he was going to have to bear forever. But Kakashi loved the adrenaline of fighting with it - craved it - and always sought out the chance to use his technique just to feel the onslaught of feeling that could be turned into fighting power. Rin's death had to mean something, so Kakashi was going to remember, force himself to recall, how she ran to her death with such a painful smile, until it destroyed him completely.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
Obito never felt angrier in his life when he saw Rin, his Rin, fall. Without even being able to stop and ponder, he ran in and slaughtered the enemies that surrounded her. A part of him, wanted his other teammate dead too, but Obito couldn't bring himself to do so. Not yet. But he learned something horrifically true on that day. The shinobi world was true hell, and while demons walked amongst him, Obito was slowly turning, too.
Kakashi always woke from his sleep in the most inconvenient way. Again today, he sprang from his slumber, his eyes darting around the empty room, kunai in his shaking hand and breath frantic, to face the reality he wanted nothing more but to escape from. But his dreams left no reprieve from the horrors of his existence. Kakashi raises his hand to his face, and looks into his bathroom mirror. He looks at Obito's eye, and lets out a blood-curdling scream. He spends all his morning speaking with Obito, unable to communicate with anyone else.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
Obito knows that to achieve his revenge, he must be ruthless; brave; detached. But he isn't able to stop his nightmares from haunting him. They always consist of the same things, but the onslaught of emotions from just one causes him to wake with burning, forbidden tears. Obito has to throw his head back and scream from the really bad ones; the repeating ones; the ones that leave him unable to train and in turn cause Madara to become so very angry.
Kakashi often wonders why it is has to be like this.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Obito often wonders if it had to be like this.
Hatake Kakashi spent much of his time at the memorial stone. For Minato, for Kushina, for Rin. But the name his eyealways fell upon, even now, was Obito's, unaware that soon all around him would be rubble and dust.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Obito knew he would never be the same. From that moment, he knew he had become one of the demons in hell. But he didn't care anymore.
(The fourth shinobi war had begun.)