Author: Carcinya (Isolde on Fanfiction(dot)net)
Author E-mail: carcinya(at)aol(dot)com
Category: Angst/Romance
Keywords: Naruto Iruka
Kakashi
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None.
Summary: You are strong this way. (Drabble, KakaIru)
Disclaimer: This story is based on situations and characters created
and owned by Masashi Kishimoto, various publishers including but not limited
to TV Tokyo. The song and the plot are mine.
No money is being made and no copyright infringement intended.
Now, now, people. If Naruto was mine, do you really think I'd be sitting at my computer, sipping bad coffee, and writing bad fanfiction? Honestly.
Author's notes: I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistake there might be in this story. I am French, and still only learning the beautiful language that is English. Any comments are welcome, but obviously flames will be used to roast marshmallows. Or flamers.
Alex-niichan requested a short story. I wrote him a drabble. shrugs
Shinigami: Angel/God of death.
"Moonlight" - Iruka (430 words)
It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all.
Samuel Butler
§§§
He is dancing under the stars. A dance of cold steel and even colder hearts - lethal, ruthless and heartbreakingly beautiful.
Just like him.
Bathed in moonlight and in blood, Hatake Kakashi stands alone among the dead, haunting and haunted. The sharp edge of his sword glints in the darkness. The eerie Sharingan eye burns holes in your very soul. You shiver, feeling oddly defenseless against that strange, blood-colored iris.
You gaze at your lover in ever-renewed reverence. In the dead of night, far from the eyes of Konoha, Kakashi becomes who he was born to be: a striking image of the shinobi lords of old, all chiseled features and regal bearing, effortless grace and superior fighting skills. A breathtaking aura of power and death surrounds him - he reminds you in that regard of the frightful Shinigami of legends.
Death truly becomes him.
You wonder if perhaps you ought to be afraid.
Are you?
A little, maybe - yes - but you are afraid for him, never of him.
You do not fear death. You are Chuunin, you are shinobi - for as long as you can remember, your whole life has revolved around death. You have learned to acknowledge and accept it. You have lost too much not to face the obvious.
Between life and death, Kakashi has long made his choice.
And you know, with heartwrenching certainty, that one day you will cradle his broken dead body against your chest. And you will weep, and you will scream and you will want to die.
But you will not. You will wipe your tears and smile and live on, for you are strong this way.
Stronger than anyone.
Tonight, you push back those grim prospects, clamping down on the pain you feel rising in your chest, with all your might. Kakashi needs you, and at this precise moment, nothing else matters. You walk toward your lover, your pace slow and hasty, arms and heart wide open.
You are not afraid.
He buries his head in the crook of your neck, and you pretend not to notice the sudden dampness of your shirt or the faintly shaking shoulders. He smells like sweat and blood and death. You hate it, but you love him, and so you breathe in deeply, for you are strong this way.
He says nothing and you do not ask.
"Welcome home," you murmur, stroking his wild hair and squeezing your eyes shut against the cold harshness of your lives.
Between life and death, you have chosen love.
You are strong this way.
§ - end - §
Oh, well. Yet another drabble. Please review?