Rhapsody
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There was a soft melody, its notes sad and delicate as they floated towards the only person in the white room. He awoke with a start, looking wildly around the surrounding room.

It was bright; the sun poured into the room from the windows and he was forced to squint to keep the light out of his eyes.

The sheets under him were stiff and uncomfortable. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, wondering where he was and where that beautiful music was coming from… He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet grazing the floor slightly.

He felt strangely lonely, sitting on the bed without a sign to help him figure out where he had woken. The whole room was not comforting at all; its white walls gave the air of stark cleanliness, daring anyone to soil it.

The curtains were drawn back and he walked to the window, wincing as his bare feet touched the cold floor. A strange and unfamiliar town lay before him: winding streets and building that rose to the sky, a large mountain that loomed over the village with five regal faces carved in stone.

He turned from the sight and spotted a white robe hung on a coat rack near the door; he moved to walk towards the exit to this strange place.

As he reached the door, he could hear voices outside and the music had not faltered. He pulled the white robe over his nightclothes and walked out of the strange room only to meet a bustling hospital hallway, dozens of people walking back and forth in front of him, papers in hand; not one stopped for him.

He began to follow the sound of the soft melody, ignoring the people around him as they ignored him, moving past doors and doors until he found the right one.

It was a small, bright room; what caught his eye was not anything else but a grand piano in the corner. The black ebony glowed in the same light that illuminated the room he had come from. He had never seen anything so elegant…

Seated at the piano bench, a man passed his fingers over the ivory keys as though it was the easiest motion. The melody continued to float through the room as his fingers moved.

He walked to the piano and sat next to the man, mesmerized by the music that was being created before his very eyes. He passed his own fingers over the beautiful keys, feeling their smooth surface cold to his touch.

The man noticed his new companion, though he did not stop playing. "Hello," Hatake Kakashi greeted softly, his voice deep and fond.

Though still confused about where he was, he kept his fingers on the keys, careful to not play. He nodded in response. "Hello. You play… beautifully."

Kakashi resisted the urge to stare, to question such an unfamiliar greeting. His voice sounded as though this was their very first meeting. Casting thoughts aside, he replied, "Thank you. It's a sad melody, though."

"What are you sad about?"

The melody ended suddenly as Kakashi stared ahead, though to nothing in particular. More questions, he thought… when there shouldn't have been any at all. Iruka shouldn't have been asking him these questions.

"Lost love… does that mean anything to you?" he asked with caution. Realization was beginning to dawn on him.

A shake of the head was his response. "No… Lost love sounds very sad."

"It is… well, I offer the keys to you, then. I have some things I need to take care of." Kakashi moved to stand up from the piano bench, leaving the confused young man sitting alone.

"I don't… know how to play," he heard from behind him.

Kakashi turned, his brow furrowed. Deciding against answering, he left the small room. He placed his hands in his pockets and walked down the busy hallway to the hospital doors.

The sun was bright outside, though he could see Godaime's building in the distance. He began walking towards it, paying no mind to the villagers around him, to anything around him. Godaime was the only person he wanted to talk to.

She would be the only one with the answers he realized he suddenly craved.

"Enter," came her fierce voice seconds after Kakashi had knocked on her door. He opened the door as calmly as he possibly could with all that was raging inside of him at that moment, with his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

Pain and confusion were whirling around in his mind and he could not separate or make sense of anything anymore. He could not forget the way he had greeted him… as though nothing had happened at all, as though they had never even met.

It was a blade sharper than any he had ever experienced…

"Kakashi, what can I help you with?" Tsunade-sama asked once she saw it was he who had knocked.

She did not notice Kakashi's clenched fists or the scowl he wore under his mask. She did not notice the pain inside of him. He breathed deeply, as though to control himself, though he knew not how long it would last. "He's lost his memory," he said lamely, placing himself in front of her desk.

Tsunade-sama pressed her fingers together, staring at him. She said nothing, though, perhaps making him even angrier.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her. "Why did you keep something like that from me?"

She looked at him sadly. He looked very lonely, standing in front of her, asking questions she did not believe she had the right to answer in the first place. It pained her to keep something so important from him…

"Answer me." He was so cold…

Tsunade sighed tiredly. "He has lost his memory. He won't remember anything. He won't remember you."

She had confirmed his very worst fears, the truth he knew existed, but hardly wanted to believe in it. How could he believe it?

"Why didn't you tell me? Did it not occur to you that maybe I would want to know something like that?!" he asked her angrily, covering the right side of his face with a hand.

She shook her head in disbelief. "Would you have believed me if I told you?"

He glared at her. "I would have checked myself."

Tsunade hesitated, choosing her words very carefully before replying. Somehow, Kakashi seemed like a ticking bomb to her; he was getting ready to explode at any minute. Oh, how he had changed over the years… years ago…

"Even after what Iruka told you before it happened?" she asked him finally; she was not, however, convinced it was the best question.

He found his throat stuck at her words; he could not, would not speak any more. He was overcome with bitterness towards her. He no longer wished to talk, or to even be standing in her office, exposing himself to her humiliating scrutiny and his own vulnerability.

How wrong he was to come here. Turning his back on her, wishing to hear no more, he left Tsunade in her office. There was no finding comfort in her; there was no finding comfort in anyone but him…

"He has lost his memory… He won't remember you."

He found himself in front of the hospital again, where a solitary bench lay to the side of the sliding doors; he took a seat and sighed.

Burying his face in his hands, he laughed bitterly to himself. He did not understand how, but Iruka had been right after all… hadn't he? Iruka had kept his word… hadn't he? The conversation seemed like so long ago, but in truth, it had only been ten days since.

He hadn't become a distant memory; he would have preferred being a memory to this. Memories were gone to Iruka now, he had none left. They only lived alive in Kakashi, but who would know but him?

A decision lay before him, though he did not know how to make it. He walked into the hospital, down the hallway towards Iruka's room. Maybe Haruno Sakura tried to stop him, maybe other medical ninja tried to stop him, but he couldn't be sure of anything.

The door to the room was slightly ajar; he pushed it open; he found Iruka sitting in his bed and staring out the open window. The sun was golden on his skin; a small smile traced its way on his lips.

Those lips…

He wondered if anyone had told him who he was or where he was. He wondered if he had any understanding.

Iruka turned to the sound of the door opening.

"Ah, it's the piano player!" he greeted warmly, his smile growing wider.

Kakashi entered the room, seating himself on the only chair next to the bed. "Hello again…" he replied, staring at Iruka.

Iruka hadn't stopped smiling—it made Kakashi's stomach turn over. "I was hoping I'd see you again. The strangest thing happened after you left me at the piano. I was just sitting there, you know, and I placed my fingers on the keys. And I started to play. It was the strangest thing, so strange, but it was beautiful." His eyes shined with happiness at the thought; he had been able to make music himself.

Kakashi said nothing; he simply nodded, though never taking his eyes off the man in front of him.

He continued. "Well, I was very confused. At first I didn't know why there was a piano in here anyways."

At this, Kakashi laughed. "I had been begging them to put a piano in here for years. The room was empty before, just an empty, unused room. They were only tired of me complaining about it."

Iruka smiled, but he still had one more question—a question perhaps more important than pianos in hospital rooms. "You seemed to know I knew how to play. So… I guess my question for you is… Do you know who I am? Did you know me?"

At the end, you didn't want me to, Kakashi thought sadly. That was why he was seated here, sitting in front of a man who no longer remembered him, who perhaps may never remember him again.

It was his wish…

Perhaps he needed to honor that wish, so that he would not bring him pain again. He was happy, though he sat in a hospital alone, without a clue as to who he was or who Kakashi was. He was happy and alone and oblivious to the pain Kakashi had brought him.

They could start anew. A fresh start… and Kakashi would learn from his mistakes. And Iruka would know nothing of them. But…

He was happy; this was his wish. Iruka was happy, and maybe Kakashi would accept what he could not before—Iruka was no longer his, nor would he ever be again. If Iruka was happy, then maybe Kakashi would be happy for him, though not happy with him.

It was his wish…

"No," Kakashi replied, his voice hoarse. He placed a hand over one of Iruka's; Iruka's confused face looked up at him as he stood. "You'll be alright. I'm sure of that."

Moving the chair back, he walked towards the door. He had placed a hand on the doorknob when Iruka spoke again.

His voice was so clear and cheerful it pained Kakashi to hear it again. "Thank you… piano player."

He closed the door silently behind him; he made his way through the hall to a small room near the end.

It was small, but it was bright inside as sunlight was let in from its windows. In the corner of the room a grand piano rested. Kakashi seated himself before it, on the piano bench before it; he placed his fingers over the ivory keys and played a soft and tragic melody.

The music filled the room, filled him. The aching chords of the piano played the music of his aching heart.

Author's Note: Technically, this is the first chapter in a short, ten chapter fic that I'm working on. I haven't really decided whether to keep it a one-shot or post more...
Anyways, let me know what you think (: