A/N: Kakashi drabble. It wouldn't leave me alone.
No Rest for the Weary
No time to stop. Just run.
No time to think.
No time to feel.
No time to remember.
Just run, run, run.
Once upon a time there was a man. And the sky was drained of colour.
And all the tears he could not cry, would not cry, knew not how to cry were locked away inside, tucked deep into a corner where they burned and froze and ached and never ever went away.
But he smiled, because he was strong enough to live.
--
He was a survivor. This he knew.
This he despised.
There is no mercy for the strong, no gentle ease of passage—and so they live, and so they breathe, and so they keep on remembering, because it's all they can do to honour the past.
But this does not take the pain away. This does not remove the cruel, sharp emptiness, untouched by the passage of time.
But he smiles, because he is strong enough to hurt, and feel and never stop feeling.
No home for sorrow.
No space for tears.
No shelter for grief.
No room for pain.
Just run, run, run.