Disclaimer: These writings are a work of fan fiction and the original work of Naruto in no way belongs to this author.
Too long to be drabble, what follows is instead humbly submitted drivel. I hope you enjoy it...XD
The one. Your one true love of a lifetime. When you find that person, your job is to hold on tight. Never stop caring, never let go. Protect. Provide. Stand shoulder to shoulder, bare your heart, your soul. It's your only chance to truly get it right. The only thing that really matters.
What it does to a man to come to that realization too late is nothing short of ruinous. A subtraction from his very core, a hollow, aching void. Oh, there will be other loves, lovers. Perhaps even a life mate. But it's never going to be as it should. The longing and pain will live with him daily. Hourly. With every breath.
Kakashi stands at the memorial and makes his apology, again. It rings hollow, helps nothing, heals no one. The person his soul is connected to is buried deep, untouchable. But that's only the surface of the tragedy. They never touched. They never made the connection in the flesh, not even in looks or words. The life-changing incident that laid them bare and gave Kakashi his first unbiased view of this person took his life. Took his life, and left behind a morbid, magical gift, a donation to Kakashi's bankrupt young soul. It was so excruciating at the time, both mentally and physically, that he didn't understand the connection right away. He deeply regret the way he'd misjudged Obito, belittled him for his emotions, and edged against him in jealousy, knowing that once the Sharingan awakened, the boy would have the potential to surpass him. Obito was annoying. Obito was a crybaby. He was a lousy ninja. He did everything the wrong way, and yet their sensei thought he was every bit as right in his own way as Kakashi was in his.
Many years later, through life experience, shinobi experience, emotional experience, Kakashi finally saw Obito for who he was. For what he stood for. And for the kind of relationship the two of them would have shared. It rested there, a dead congealed truth, and he left it unexamined. Yes, Obito was special. Kakashi had missed so much by not connecting with him while he was alive. But there were lots of special people out there, and there wasn't such a thing as a perfect anything, much less a perfect partner.
So, to a degree, he let it go.
His visits to the memorial often included deep thoughts about the pros and cons of his various conquests and he asked Obito for his opinion on such things. Man, woman? Jounin, chuunin, villager? This one, that one? Kakashi always felt he could sense the red eye connecting them together when he came here, good pals, supportive vibes transmitting into his fevered brain.
He thought it odd that he got no such vibe when he sheepishly admitted he was sharing an apartment with a chunin, a schoolteacher, a crazy, sexy man - not a woman this time.
The same lack of vibe hit him when he came with the slightly stunning bit of news that he had asked the man to marry him, and he had said yes. Not something you saw in a hidden village, among hardened nin, between men. They cohabited everywhere. But marriage? It was a little outrageous. But Iruka adored him, did everything for him, and confessed that Kakashi was his "one". Well, Iruka was a very special one to Kakashi as well. The most special one he'd been with, ever.
Years of marriage brought with them the familiarity that bred not quite contempt but perhaps peevishness and restlessness. The mistakes that humans make took that sweet blush off of their marriage and a true marriage it became. They shared a home, a bed, a bank account, a harness. If one made a mess it was at the expense of the other; when they disagreed they sometimes wondered if it wouldn't be nice just to take a break from it, live apart a while. Missions didn't really count, they were highly unfair, affording Iruka with worrisome stretches of time alone, which he hated, wanting to be by Kakashi most of the time; and making Kakashi jealous, be cause he desperately needed autonomous time off alone, and never got it.
Somewhere in the soul-searching it came to the surface. Yes, he loved Iruka. No, he was not going to leave, rip them both apart, shatter everything they had built up and become together.
It wasn't quite a lie, this life. But the caustic burning that ran in rivulets through his eye and heart grew more and more prevalent, and it finally formed into conscious thought
It was a heartbreaking, soul-shattering realization.
He did have a one, an only. And he was dead. Any chance at a relationship between them in life was thrown away during his youthful arrogance, when the thought of an irreplaceable someone was a laughable concept. Something he was actually repulsed by at the time. No ties, no weak emotional crap, no baggage for me. Obito was right before his eyes, in reach of his hands, even arguing with him to convince him that feeling something was good and right – and he'd taken a pass on it.
Looking at the old, creased picture now, the pain was almost unbearable, and Obito's eye cried for them both. He felt it now, in the eye, the sadness and longing and failure. They had been together in a way, teammates, and Kakashi had always been the one to throw up the walls, start the fights and make the hurtful comments.
When he thought about that he would apologize, and the eye would soften and radiate calm into his head. He took it as a sign of acceptance, forgiveness. Of love. What he wouldn't give to hold Obito just once, to protect him, to let him know just how special he was. It was disorienting, because the only place they had any hope of meeting was in the afterlife. It made the afterlife seem frustratingly distant. Kakashi was not suicidal, yet if Obito were to beckon from the grave he would go in a heartbeat.
It wasn't fair to Iruka, and being with Iruka seemed like an infidelity, an affront to Obito. And as the connection with Obito's memory deepened, the one with Iruka thinned. He hadn't done it purposely. It wasn't cheating…was it? There was no person he was having an affair with. These were merely his thoughts; he was not an adulterer to have them.
A technicality. He was becoming estranged in his affections because of his feeling for another. Did it matter that the other was in another astral plane?
Years continued to flow into years, the pain never lessened, the yearning and regret becoming the background for everything, adding to the weight and pull of the other disappointments, the frailties of living. A true yearning for the end began to form, a developing preference. He looked forward to the end, sometimes thought fondly of it, imagining the heroic end and the ceremony at the stone that would finally unite him with his one.
It hurt, of course, to imagine the pain the others would feel at his passing. It was awful to see the pain he already caused in Iruka's eyes, eyes that knew that a distance had grown between them that couldn't be traversed. It made him feel rather guilty. It would be joyous for him. He should feel bad, leaving everyone. But he couldn't control his emotions in this matter. The irony of that was not lost on him. Obito had finally won, his point well made. Emotions were part of a man, inevitable, vital. And in the end, uncontrollable.
And when the end did come, it was indeed in a battle of epic proportions, where the lives of dozens were sure to be lost and only the mortal sacrifice made by one famous, noble, almost superhuman man saved them. The enemy vanquished, they brought his broken and lifeless body home, lifted high and carried in wails of grief and shock. A hero, their hero, a legend passed on. A beloved figure, a local icon, a friend, and a comrade. Death takes another man and leaves a grieving spouse with a broken household to face the next sunrise alone.
Shimmering light and warm breezes lifted him from his ravaged body and all the cares shrank to a speck in the distance. Hands of soft mist, unseen but caressing and kind, touched and turned him in the moderate airstream, guiding him. Taking him somewhere. He began to absorb it with a pulse of bliss, and the realization that he no longer felt the extra presence in his person that had been Obito's gift. That presence was instead in the distance, growing stronger as he drew near. Growing warmer, reaching out. Obito.
Their souls met and swirled, and they had a moment of being intertwined before the others began to waft into his perception. Everyone was here, everyone he'd spent his life in mourning for. It was too beatific. And then he saw his place, his spot made ready. It was beside Yondaime, Obito, Rin. His father, his mother, Asuma. Such joy he could never have imagined.
Until he saw the spot that his station looked out on. Standing, tracing his name in the stone, through a shimmering viewpoint between here and there stood Iruka. Tears stained his aging yet beautiful face. Kakashi knew without seeing that Iruka's parents were here, looking on as well, sending gentle comfort with all their might even though little was able to seep through to the broken man.
They watched as one; indeed, while they were separate identities, they were also one mass…bound at their place of memorial to watch over the site. The sight of mourners whisked up slight pain and longing, but it was a fleeting, tiny tinge. It was smothered by the amassed comfort and love and belonging, and the sure knowledge that the individuals they watched writhing in such agony, the lonely vessels struggling in their mortal lives, would some day come to join them and be welcomed into the fold.
Kakashi let his own love and sadness flow out, and the look on Iruka's face softened with relief, as if he knew his love was safely passed to the other side. His friends were leading him away then, and Kakashi shared the brush of gratitude with the Uminos that their gentile chunin was being cared for in his time of loss.
Obito's own gratitude was there as well, his heart going out to the man who had to selflessly taken his place for all these years. His place, as he reached out and made a perfect connection with his teammate, taking his rightful position as Kakashi's other half. The horizon flared in a lavender sunset and Kakashi let the last traces of his mortal connection float away, taking away the final obstacle to belonging to his one true love.
End