A/N: I'm having a little trouble with my other stories right now, so to get my mind off that for a while I wrote this. It's short and depressing (blame it on Skillet) but I felt like I have exorcised my demons at least. This little piece was inspired from listening to Skillet and their songs, Lucy, Say goodbye, Would it matter and One day too late.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Obviously my name isn't Masashi Kishimoto. I DO NOT OWN NARUTO!

I remember your name.

The rain fell from heavy, grey clouds. The drops poured down on the ground, soaking the soil until little puddles stared to form in the open areas between the trees. It trickled down dark, green leaves; the smell of wet earth and vegetation filling the air with its heavy and rich scent. Strands of grass bowed under the gentle onslaught, flowers closing their petals as to shield themselves from the life bringing liquid trying to penetrate into the very core of their hearts.

'I want to spend more time with you. Tomorrow could be one day too late.'

Thunder rumbled lowly up in the grey sky, granting the dusky day a certain amount of melancholy, soft steps upon wet earth muffled by the sound. A lonely man slowly walked through the forest, the small path guiding his feet as it seemed to dwindle in the shadows of the canopies far above the ground. He walked with calm, measured steps, as if only a little slip would make him tumble to the ground in an instant.

He had his head bowed to the blowing wind, not caring when a few strands of hair slipped out of the tail he kept it bound to, only stroking them out of his face when they blew in it. His eyes were glued to the path, trudging slowly but surely as guided by an invisible map, his steps sure and steady despite the fragile image he projected with the slumped shoulders and slouched back.

'I want to make every minute with you last longer.'

The uniform he wore was torn; clinging to his body in wet shreds of black and silver, the rain hitting tan skin all over his body, chilling it as it hit and trickled down his slender form. He shuddered now and then, trying to ignore the signals his body sent him, the silent plead for rest and warmth. The water slid down his bare biceps, caressing the small, black tattoo on his left shoulder, bearing a painstakingly resemblance to tears as it slid down his arms, only to be soaked up by already wet fabric at his elbows. The black, elbow-long gloves had holes in them, the steel enclosing his forearms glimmering from beneath a crust of blood and grime, slowly being washed clean by the rain.

'I can't promise I will be back...'

He kept one hand over his heart as he pressed a mask of white porcelain against his chest, the other hanging limply at his side with a single rose gently enclosed in his fist, shielding the delicate petals from the worst onslaught of rain with his palm. The light increased a little when the forest opened up, leaving him to stand at the edge of a gland.

He raised his head, tired, brown eyes looked up, taking in the small clearing with an empty gaze; the sorrow glimmering in the depths surfacing to take over completely. A lightning suddenly flashed, illuminating the clearing with deformed shadows the trees cast, reflecting in the surface of a blank, black stone. It rested in the heart of the gland, engraved words of silver glistening on the surface. He stepped out in the field, slowly striding until he stood in front of the stone.

'It's okay… it's all right.'

He stared down on the smooth surface, trailing row after row words – names - with his weary eyes, stopping when he reached a certain row. He counted in his head, stopping when he reached number 456 and a numbness - old, familiar… welcomed filled his entire being. He couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop himself from following the elegant curves of the letters, brown eyes softening as they followed the name he had been looking for like a caress from a hand, wishing it was warm, smooth skin instead of cold, hard stone before him.

"Hey… I still remember your name", he said; his voice low, subdued – hollow. The joke was old, a sliver of a memory from their first encounter. He closed his eyes as tears pooled in them, a prickling sensation gathering behind them and he cried. A soft sob racked his frame, already shuddering shoulders turning into visible trembles, the warm, wet sorrow spilling from his eyes mixing with the unyielding rain as it trickled down his face, tickling the scar across the ridge of his nose. Warmth turned into chilly anguish – undoubted, painful remembrance and he collapsed.

'Hm? What was your name again?'

His knees hit the hard patch of graphite the black stone rested upon, the mask of porcelain dropping to the ground, shattering at the impact. He stared at the glimmering shards with unseeing eyes, couldn't help but think that they resembled his heart, pain shooting through him like a bolt of electricity. He gasped and curled around himself, hugging his midriff when it felt like the pieces of his heart tried to force their way out through his chest. His quiet sobs grew in strength, wails of raw suffering passing his lips in a never ending cry for release. The rose lay on the ground beside him, forgotten as drops of water slid down red, soft petals, the flower seemingly weeping too.

After a minute, years – eons… the tears stopped, the cries quieted down, becoming inaudible sounds of sorrow as he once again shut them in, pushing them back until he only could feel them as sorrowful whispers at the edges of his mind.

"I came with a rose for you", he whispered to the stone, head still bowed and eyes closed, gritting his teeth when another shudder – this time from the throbbing of his wounds tore inside of him.

'Your lips can only be compared to the petals of a rose. Red, soft… alluring.'

"It's… been almost three years." His voice almost disappeared among the drip drop around him, the rustling of leaves and grass in the wind drowning the hollow tone.

"I'm still alive. Even when I don't want to be… I'm still alive." A whisper in the wind, a distant voice seemed to call to him and he raised his head, a small, rueful smile curving his lips as he faced the sky, letting new, calm tears of regret and longing mix with rain. Memories of gentle times, tenders moments of love and care... nights of indulged desire fluttered in his mind, like the wings of butterflies in his shattered heart.

'I couldn't bear the thought of losing you… you are my life.'

"I know. You want me to be alive and well." Another whisper, the wind seemed to be filled with warmth not belonging there, filled with something he missed so terribly much, something he ached for every day in a never ending echo of yesterday.

"Too bad that a life without you don't appeal that much to me…"

He took a deep breath when he felt a ghosting touch, an ethereal, soft contact against his cheek and he opened his eyes to look at the stone again.

"What does it matter if I'm alive or not? Living here, in this world where you are not… I have nowhere to go any longer." His hand trembled when he reached down, taking the rose with shaking fingers as he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss against the petals. His face bore the expression of great yearning at the contact between the rose and his skin, a lover pressing a kiss of love against lips in the ultimate proof of undying devotion.

"I found your killer today", he mumbled as he placed the rose at the base of the stone, leaning forward when he became too tired to stay upright anymore. He placed his palms flat against the stone beneath him, his head bowed when another wave of pain washed over him.

'Don't say goodbye. I'll wait for you…'

"The only reason I did this… why I joined ANBU… was to avenge you. To give you peace." The wind whispered again, making him chuckle when it seemed to carry with it an inquiry.

"I was never able to fool you. Yes. I also did it for my peace of mind."

Another lightning lit up the sky for a moment, his shadow stretching over the black stone, engulfed by the blackness as his heart had been engulfed by grief so long ago.

"It took me… three years. But he is dead. I killed him with my own hands, watched when his life was drained from him. I strangled him, stared him straight in the eyes when I squeezed his throat with my fingers. I don't think I've ever felt more satisfied in my life."

He was growing weaker, slumping down on his elbows when he was thrown into a fit of coughs, crimson staining the surface under his face when it was over.

"He got me good though. I'm dying." There was no denying in the wind, only a whisper filled with remorse, but he still smiled with his eyes closed.

"I don't regret it. With you gone… I have nothing else to live for." He jerked and coughed again, blood painting his pale lips crimson, giving them a fake hue of life in the last moments of his. A distant murmur of love seemed to reach him, a fog of dizziness sweeping over him as the world grew more distant, fading into white around the edges as he opened his eyes again. He was now lying on his back, staring up at the sky as its tears washed over him.

"Don't cry…" he whispered and reached up, stretching his fingers against the clouds in a gesture of want, longing… craving.

'The only thing I can't stand... is your pain.'

"I… want to be with you. The world isn't tempting enough to walk alive in… if you're not beside me." He felt faint warmth against his back, blood pooling underneath him as it slowly leaked out of him, granting him a fake sense of security and comfort. He coughed again, could feel his lungs filling up with the water of his life, but he only smiled.

'I don't want to leave this dream. I want to sleep with you in my arms... Don't wake me.'

"I'm coming now… Will you wait for me?" The wind bore a last message to him, bringing with it the reassurance that he wasn't alone, that he had someone meeting him on the other side. The warmness faded from brown eyes, heavy lids sliding down over orbs that glowed softly with relief.

A soft breath escaped him, exhaling as the world around him seemed to grow fainter, a soft, inaudible whisper slipping past his lips as life fled, leaving behind a mere shell of what once had been a breathing, living man. The wind stopped blowing, the rain ceased and the world became still. A man was lying before a black stone, a red rose brushing against his cheek. His aching heart had stopped pumping life through his veins and his lungs had stopped breathing, but a smile still curved pale lips…

'Kakashi...'

'Hey Iruka… I remember your name.'

A/N: Wow... I really like it when they die. Anyway, please review and let me know how you liked it.

Ja!