Note: Just a short little drabble that came to me suddenly. It took me about 10 minutes to write it, so it may not be the greatest thing I've ever written. It sure is damn full of emotion though.
Warnings: AH! The angst! It hath taken over!
Pairing: Not really clear, but it's a KakaSasu in my mind.
Knowledge of Failure
By: Jaiden Lockheart
"I need you." He says, his dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears and I never have the heart to lie to him.
"No, you don't." I answer back, because, really, I know he doesn't. I know he would be just fine--perhaps better--if he wasn't around me at all.
At one time, he was strong, stronger than most his age and definitely stronger than me. I don't know what caused this sudden change in him, the one where he almost seemed weak compared to others. He should have remained on top, the exceptional student sent to replace the prodigy that had betrayed him.
But maybe the change hadn't been sudden. Maybe I should have kept track of the warning signs better, because there had always been warning sings, there always is. He was falling, even when I was still able to watch him grow up. To me, he still seems like a child, his eyes belying the rest of his matured body.
He was still so small, so fragile looking. Even when he was considered the top in his class he had seemed as if he would break at any second. If someone had just said the right thing, he would have shattered into a million pieces. No one would have known how to put him together. Perhaps someone had found a way to break him.
And I have no idea how to fix him.
But you can't fix what doesn't want to admit it's broken.
When he'd returned to me--I lie to myself in saying that he didn't come back for any other reason--he was nothing more than a hollow shell of a man, his dark hair limp and dirty, his clothes blood-stained. But whose blood was covering him, I'm afraid I'll never truly know.
But I had taken him in, given him clothes and shoved him into my bathroom. I'll never forget how his skin glowed red from all the scrubbing. He still sees the blood occasionally, scratches and rubs at the invisible red liquid like it's tainting his skin. That's when he cries the most, when he can't escape the images of thick bodily fluid and dying men.
I'll never know exactly what he sees. But I'm sure it's not much when he looks in the mirror.
I've tried--god, I've tried so hard--to put him back together, to build him back up into the man I know he can be. But he falls short--I fall short--to the boy he used to be.
And now he looks at me with strangely glassy eyes, like a doll waiting to be molded even further into what I want. But I can't do this. I can't watch him fail anymore. I was--am--his teacher, and I can't help feeling like I'm the biggest hindrance to him. Because I can barely keep myself together through this, let alone carry him all the way. He needs someone better.
He doesn't need me.
"Please."
The one word--I'd been dreading hearing it for so long now--has never meant more to me.
I cup his cheek with one hand, noticing, again, how tiny he really is.
"I can't give you what you want."
And it's in his eyes that I can see the disappointment.
I know I can never give him what he wants.
And I think he knows that too.
Note: Yay for drabbles written in a very small amount of time! My Kakashi muse had sort of left me hanging after my little oneshot I wrote a few weeks ago, but he came back. I'm sorry if it's a little confusing, the time period isn't mentioned exactly, but you probably figured it out anyway. Oh, and have I mentioned how much I love love love wanton-needy-begging Uke!Sasuke? I probably have.
Love you all,
-Jaide
