A/N: Just a quick drabble. Writing in the Naruto fandom, I've discovered, is extremely stressful because there are so many well-written fics out there. So here's my attempt.
Warnings: VERY light KakaIru, if you want to take it that way. Possible spoilers for the Chuunin Exam arc.
By the way, the summary is a tad misleading. Sakumo's suicide and the death of Iruka's parents happens to fall on the same day, but not necessarily in the same year. Therefore, there are no weird time-space warps here, don't worry.
I'd appreciate any comments you can give me. As always, reviews are appreciated and flames are ignored.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. -MeeLee
Eventide
BEGIN
They met at the memorial stone. Pure coincidence, really—no pre-planning or random prank or tricky Hand of Fate involved. Just Hatake Kakashi and Umino Iruka, happening to find themselves standing in front of the same black tablet.
Kakashi was actually there first, which would have staggered Iruka had he been in the mood. As it were, he simply walked up to stand beside the tall jounin, offering a quiet greeting smile and getting a slight nod of acknowledgment in return. Neither was surprised at the other's presence. A lot of ninja had died protecting Konohagakure—there was probably not a single person in the village who could not trace some sort of relationship to one of the names etched into the bleak stone.
They stood there, side-by-side, for almost an hour. The sinking sun colored the sky a searing blood-red, then a softer purple, and all the while they stood there, silent. Neither moved; no glances were exchanged, each lost in his own thoughts.
It was not until the sky had melted into the soothing midnight-blue that announced the onslaught of darkness that Kakashi straightened, single dark blue eye breaking for the first time from the stone and focusing on the gathering dark.
"Who was it," he said. His voice was soft, neutral, not even a hint of the interrogative at the end. Indeed, had Iruka chosen at that moment to turn and leave, neither would have been surprised or offended.
But the young twenty-three-year-old chuunin teacher merely sighed, allowing his eyes to slip closed for an instant. "My parents," he said. "Kyuubi, you know?" His voice was controlled, yet still held the faintest trace of a tremor.
"Aa," Kakashi said, eye still fixed on the now barely-perceptible horizon. Iruka half-expected the jounin to offer some sort of comforting "I'm sorry" or "what a tragedy," yet he was not surprised when the other ninja said nothing else.
When blue faded to black, the silence was broken again. "And you?" Iruka said. Same neutral tone, same expectation of no answer.
Kakashi turned, jumped up, and disappeared.
Almost a year passed before it happened again: two ninja meeting at the memorial stone. The sun was orange, barely beginning to bleed into the fiery horizon, and Hatake Kakashi and Umino Iruka found themselves once again keeping each other silent company before the even more silent stone.
Iruka knew Kakashi was now Uzumaki Naruto's jounin sensei. Kakashi was finally able to put a face to Naruto's old teacher. But they needed no words for that, and so they used none.
Orange to red. Blood. Always blood. But still neither spoke.
The hour ticked slowly by. Red melted to purple; purple sank to blue; blue fell into black. The steady march of eventide.
Then Kakashi spoke, his voice a bare whisper in the still air.
"My father committed suicide," he said, monotone, deadpan. And before Iruka could turn to face him, he vanished.
Another year: chaos, betrayal, ultimate sorrow. The Chuunin Exams commenced and ended with their tragedy. Uchiha Sasuke left, Uzumaki Naruto pursued. Orochimaru advanced; Sandaime sacrificed. Jiraiya and Tsunade took on their new apprentices.
The sky was already deepening to violet when they met. Still they said nothing; there was nothing to say. Hatake Kakashi had lost, as had Umino Iruka. Both ninja, like the memorial stone they now gazed upon, had changed.
It was sudden, so sudden that it would have startled Kakashi had he not been expecting it.
"I'm sorry," Iruka said. And he was.
Once again, a single blue eye lifted from the carved names to the deep blue sky. "It's all right," Kakashi said. "I've learned to live with it." He shifted, that eye finally taking in all of the younger shinobi. "And you…" He paused as if uncertain. "For your loss."
Iruka sighed. "Can't change it," he said. "You just have to keep going."
Silence. Blue faded to black. Then the chuunin teacher shifted, turning from the stone to face the silver-haired ninja. "It's getting late," he said. "Dinner? My treat."
"No ramen," Kakashi said.
Iruka smiled. "Of course." Together they walked away, leaving behind the darkness, the silence, and a single lonely black stone.
FINI