It felt like it would never stop raining. It felt like it never had. Fuck it all, the village could flood and he wouldn't give a damn.
Kakashi stood at Obito's grave, reliving his memories, his nightmares, his regrets. Reveling in it and hating every fucking minute of it. He stood with his fists clenched, his mask getting heavier from the pounding rain, his hair dangling over his eyes, polluting his vision. Then again, he didn't really want to see anything at the moment.
So he just stood there. Drenched. Trying to keep everything in check, keep everything from surfacing, because ninjas weren't supposed to show their emotions, weren't supposed to reveal just how vulnerable they really were.
And then a familiar pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind, and he could feel a face pressing itself into his shoulder. Kakashi didn't move. Didn't respond. But they'd been together long enough for Iruka to understand that everything would be alright. That Kakashi would continue punishing himself for his mistakes until he could no longer handle it. Then he would release all his anger and frustration through wild and angry sex. But Iruka didn't mind. Because after that, they would be able to smile again. And Kakashi wouldn't hesitate at the rain for at least another while.