It was actually quite tragic. Which meant that he was quite tragic. Tragic wasn't Kakashi's favourite adjective to use when describing himself, but in a situation like this, what could one do?
He'd been visiting this filthy back-ally club for years, just to watch her perform through the grime and smoke-haze, part real tobacco, part drugs of various kinds. It was a health risk coming here, and as a ninja, he should report it.
But he wouldn't. Once he would have turned the place in…but that was a long, long time ago.
He sighed. Nostalgia. Absently he pulled off a glove and tugged out a pair of scissors. He always kept a pair on him, sharp and deadly. He never took off his gloves in front of anyone who knew him – they would question why the backs of both hands were covered with tiny 'v' shaped scars. If they saw the scissors, they'd put two and two together and come up with five. And have him carted off to the hospital, enrol him in emotional control sessions, maybe try to talk to him, understand him, pity him…urgh. He didn't need any of it.
He was an excellent ninja, legendary even, and the last thing he needed was for news to get around that the great Kakashi, Copy-Ninja Kakashi, practised self-harming.
Of course, it wasn't that big a deal. Kakashi had been doing it since childhood – he had first started when he was four. As a stupid dare – from Obito, of all people – to see if he was as tough as he made out. They were in their first year in the Academy, and everyone had gathered around him in the playground as Obito handed him the sharpened scissors and Kakashi pressed the open blades against the skin on the back of his left hand.
He had closed the blades, not cutting yet, till there was just a centimetre of shining silver sharpness visible. He had turned disdainfully to Obito. "That enough for you?"
"Yeah." Obito had grinned and nodded, his stupid goggles reflecting the sun behind them. "Now if you're so tough Kakashi, don't make a sound when you cut."
"Fine." Kakashi had replied coolly, and they had all stared at his hand as he closed the blades slowly, slowly.
The skin had gone white, then blood had welled up with only the slightest sting. Kakashi wanted some skin left, so he didn't close the blades of the scissors all the way, and when he pulled them back, they left a 'v' of dark blood staining the pale whiteness of his skin, the contrast startling.
The children had all gasped, and Obito had gulped aloud at the sight of blood. He hadn't left him alone for long, but Kakashi had proven how tough he was, and in the playground, that was all that mattered. Besides, in class a few weeks later, they all had to practise throwing senbon at each other, and everyone but Kakashi got wounded anyway.
Kakashi had been surprised at the time how little it had hurt, and he tried again later at home, on his right hand this time. Since then, he had done it, and the backs of his hands became a delicate web of criss-crossed white lines. In a certain light, they looked almost artistic.
So as he sliced the skin open again, he felt no pain, only a release. He regarded his habit as just that – a bad habit. He likened it to biting ones nails. A habit that eased nerves and calmed him down. But as he knew others wouldn't see it quite like that, he kept his habit hidden.
He searched for a scrap of skin that hadn't already been cut, and failing to see any in the dim light, settled for opening an old scar instead. They didn't even scab too much anymore. They just closed over and healed. Remarkable really, and he was glad they didn't itch.
Slow piano chords, dark and circusy, started up, and Kakashi looked up to the stage. Mercy, for that was her name, sang whatever took her fancy, and her songs often mirrored Kakashi's moods, sometimes so accurately it was scary. Recently she had being showing a penchant for darker songs, low and with disturbing themes. The Dresden Dolls were her current favourite, and Kakashi recognised the one that was playing now as 'Missed Me'. It was quite creepy, but Kakashi liked the lower pitch. Mercy had a wide vocal range, but her voice was very suited to the lower pitch.
He tilted his chair back on two legs and studied her apparel tonight. She also wore whatever she fancied, and had once turned up in her pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers.
It was one of her favourite fancies to being a rack of clothes on stage and change while she sang. Yes, everyone saw her in her bra and pants, but since this area was renowned for its number of prostitutes of both sexes, there was nothing anyone there hadn't seen before.
This time, she hadn't brought her clothes rack, and she had gone to more effort than usual on her outfit – she was wearing a short black dress, strapless and with a flaring netted skirt. It suited her petite figure well. She wore heelless black beaded slippers, and her dark purple hair was in a strange style – she had pulled most of it into a bunch on the right side of her head with a long black ribbon, and a couple of strands of shoulder-length hair fell loose on the left. A black rose slide pinned any loose tendrils on the right side up and out of her face.
She looked devastatingly beautiful and dark, like a petite but powerful faery.
Kakashi had never gathered enough courage to tell her he was her biggest fan. Tragic, pathetic.
Evil rogue ninja? Sure. An invasion from rival countries? No problem. Tell the woman he loved he loved her? Whoa no – he'd be running for the hills before the air registered a change in density.
And he did love her. Pathetic. Like she'd care for him.
The scissors snipped away, and the back of Kakashi's right hand was soon dotted with new scars and fresh blood.
'Missed Me' ended, and Kakashi would have applauded, had this joint been the kind of place one applauded in. Instead, Mercy simply nodded to the pianist and drummer, making a couple of signs with her fingers, telling them which song to play next.
It was new, but obviously Dresden Dolls – she was clearly going for a theme of them tonight.
"Biting keeps your words at bay, tending to the sores that stay, happiness is just a gash away."
Kakashi listened attentively to the lyrics while he transferred the scissors to his left hand and began to slice 'v''s into the back of his right hand.
"When I open a familiar scar, pain goes shooting like a star, comfort hasn't failed to follow so far."
Damn, Kakashi cursed. She was doing it again – mirroring his thoughts and moods with her song. How did she do that?
"And you might say it's self indulgent, you might say it's self destructive, but you see it's more productive than if I were to be healthy."
She pouted, and Kakashi felt his heart ache.
"And pens and penknives take the blame, crane my neck and scratch my name, but the ugly marks are worth the momentary gain." She sighed happily. "When I jab a sharpened object in, choirs of angels seem to sing, hymns of hate in memorandum!
"And you might say it's self indulgent, you might say it's self destructive, but you see it's more productive than if I were to be happy."
She took a trembling breath – she was an actress as well as a singer.
"And sappy songs about sex and cheating, bland accounts of two lovers meeting, make me want to give mankind a beating!"
The piano launched into a beautifully heavy solo that echoed the song in Kakashi's soul.
"And you might say it's self destructive, but you see I'd kick the bucket sixty times before I'd kick the habit!"
Mercy smiled and grimaced simultaneously, mimicking happy pain.
"And as the skin rips off I cherish the revolting though that even if I quit, there's not a chance in hell I'd stop! Oh and anyone can see the signs – mittens in the summertime – thank you for your pity; you are too kind."
She seemed to stare straight at Kakashi and he felt his heart skip a beat.
"And you might say it's self inflicted, but you see that's contradictive – why on earth would anyone practise self destruction?"
She stomped her foot angrily.
"Oh and pain opinion's a sitcom feeling, they don't know that their minds are bleeding! Makes me want to give mankind a beating!"
There was another solo, and Mercy's face crumpled like she was crying, and Kakashi just wanted to pull her to him, even though he knew that that was impossible.
"And I've tried bandages and sinking, I've tried gloves and even thinking!" Mercy was practically yelling now. "I've tried vaseline!" A few of the audience laughed, Kakashi with them, though slightly hysterically. "I've tried everything!" She was truly echoing him.
"And no one cares of your back is bleeding! They're concerned with their hair receding! Looking back it was all maltreating, every thought that occurred misleading, makes me want to give myself a beating!"
She fell to her knees, and Kakashi felt like weeping. Which wasn't that huge of a deal – he was a naturally emotional guy, and he always wept over the ending in Icha Icha Violence. Damn that Jiraiya and his knowledge of what would draw tears from the most hardened of ninja!
The song ended, and Mercy left the stage. It was earlier than she usually left. Probably meeting a date, Kakashi thought miserably. A boyfriend. Husband, even.
Pathetic.
But since Mercy had left, there was no point to lingering in this grimy little club and filling his lungs with gods-only-knew-what. So Kakashi stood up and carved a path through the haphazardly placed chairs and tables to the bar where he paid for a beer to take away.
Swigging the bad-quality alcohol, the tall ninja stooped to avoid bumping his head on the low doorframe as he left and stepped out into the street. Three burly men were embroiled in a drunken fist fight a few yards away and a woman screamed in faked ecstasy from the window of a brothel. Normal night.
Suddenly, a shabby door to his left opened and a petite figure stepped out. A figure he knew well – it was Mercy. Curse it.
She was wrapped in a black jacket to guard against the night's chill, but her bare legs practically glowed in the moonlight, as did her face when she turned to Kakashi and smiled.
As she tripped lightly towards him, Kakashi gulped. What use was reading all the Icha Icha books if he couldn't think of a single thing to say now?
She stopped right in front of him, mere inches away, and stared up into his face. She was shorter than she looked on stage, and looked so fragile it was unreal. She didn't look like she belonged in a neighbourhood like this.
"Hello." Kakashi started when she spoke – he was so used to her singing, but he had never actually heard her speak normally. She smiled happily up at him, her bright green eyes twinkling.
"You come and see me every night." She informed him, still having to crane her neck to look into his eye.
"Yes." He could manage no more than a croak. Arg! So pathetic…
"I love your hair." Mercy smiled. "I'd like mine to be able to stick up like that, but it never works. I tried dumping a bucket of gel on it and sleeping upside down, but it didn't work. I'm Mercy. What's your name?"
"Kakashi." He told her. Questions were easy. Questions he could deal with…just. He had put off meeting her for years, and now she just appeared in front of him and smiled at him like he was the only thing in the world at that moment.
"You're a ninja." She noted, her eyes fixing on his forehead protector. "The Copy-Ninja. Will you walk me home?"
"Uh…" Kakashi stumbled mentally over her sudden switch of topic. "Sure."
She beamed like he'd just given her the best gift in the universe. "Great." She sighed happily and slipped her tiny hand into his, as naturally as if she had known him all her life.
They walked in silence while Kakashi tried to think up something witty and clever to say – a good conversation starter. He was coming up with nil.
Mercy didn't seem bothered by the silence – she smiled contentedly the whole way back to her apartment building. "Walk me up?" She asked.
How could he refuse such a face? "Of course."
She beamed again, and tugged his arm, resting her head against his shoulder as they walked to her door – 201.
"Come in?" She asked as she turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door.
"Okay." Kakashi was dumbstruck, and agreed blindly.
"Tea?"
"Thank you."
She sang that song as she pulled out mugs and set the kettle on to boil. "Biting keeps your words at bay…"
Kakashi absently rubbed the backs of his hands, and in the gap where the piano solo would have been, Mercy turned to him. "You can, if you want. I've seen you do it. I don't mind."
His eye widened, but she'd already turned away, bending down to get milk out of her small fridge.
He really wanted to – it was a habit that he needed to keep him calm, and since she'd said she didn't mind…
Hesitantly, he pulled off his gloves and tugged out his scissors. She smiled and handed him a mug of tea as he cut open a 'v' in the back of his left hand with a sigh. That felt better.
"We all have our habits." She smiled and held up her own hands – her fingernails were bitten down to the quick and the skin around them was torn and jagged where she'd torn strips of it off with her teeth. They looked raw and painful.
But then, thought Kakashi, what must his own hands look like, covered in scars and scabs and clotted blood?
She blew on her steaming tea. "Did you want sugar?"
"No, thank you." He felt more comfortable now.
They drank their tea in comfortable silence and Kakashi put away his scissors and pulled his gloves back on reluctantly when they'd both finished. "I'd better be going. It was wonderful to meet you."
"And you." Mercy smiled again. She had a smile like an angel. "Here…" She tore a scrap of paper from a music sheet and scribbled down a number. Her phone number. "I'd like to see you again." She handed it to him and her eyes twinkled.
It was all Kakashi could do to take the piece of paper and slip it dumbly in his pocket. Was he dreaming?
She led him to the door but didn't open it. Instead she pouted at him and planted her hands on her hips in a mock-strop. "Will you let me take your mask off so I can kiss you goodbye properly?"
This had to be a dream. And even though almost no one had seen Kakashi's face under his mask, he nodded and allowed Mercy's torn, bitten fingers to roll down the skin-tight material and reveal the bottom of his scar and his nose and lips.
Which she promptly covered with hers.
Kakashi barely knew what he was doing as he responded, cupping her elfin face in his hands. She wound her arms around his waist and smiled into the kiss. "A goodbye kiss indeed." She whispered against his lips as she pulled away. "You will call me?"
"Tomorrow." Kakashi promised.
"Good." She smiled.
As Kakashi walked dreamily down the streets to his own apartment on the other side of town, he smiled to himself. Bring on tomorrow.
