A New Leaf for Yamato

The air was painful, cold and dry. Yamato squinted at the already setting sun and pulled his winter cloak closer to his face. He sighed a deep and heavy breath, trying in vain to shake the sadness that had consumed him since the end of The Fourth Shinobi World War. But the pain and guilt wouldn't leave his chest.

The Konoha village was decorated with bright, colorful lanterns strung from the rooftops. Around him, the people of the village chattered with excitement for the New Year. And yet, Yamato could feel a tension in the air. Each time he made eye contact with a villager he could feel the accusation in their gaze. He moved through the crowds easily as they parted around him. He knew the villagers were avoiding him, and they had every right to. As far as he was concerned, he was a failure as a Shinobi.

"You deserve to be shunned..." a dark voice whispered in the corner of his mind. "You should've just died during the war."

Pain twisted in his chest as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. Yamato closed his eyes, grasping at the fabric of his cloak just above his pounding heart. He sighed against gritted teeth. Suddenly, just being in the presence of the villagers felt like a sin. He struggled to control his breathing over the constricting sadness. The sharp sting of tears burned at his eyes, but before they could spill over, he ran off of the main road and into an adjoining alley.

Yamato pressed the palms of his hands against his stinging eyes until he saw stars. The chittering voices of the villagers blended with the screaming voice in his head until the two became indistinguishable, a roar in his ears. He tried to control his heaving chest with each ragged breath he took.

"Calm down!" he told himself, but the guilt was crippling. His head was spinning and he could hear the high pitched whistle of his wheezing lungs as he struggled for air. He wondered for a moment if anyone had noticed him yet, poorly concealed in an alley, fighting yet another panic attack. He wished the earth would open up and swallow him, and for a moment he considered using his earth style jitsu to do just that.

"You should've died!" the voice screamed at him "You were never never suited to save anyone! You deserved to die!"

Yamato fell to his knees, clutching at his aching heart, unable to breath. The cold air now burned his tear streaked face. Darkness began clouding his vision. He heard the clank of his face protector as his forehead hit the ground. He was gasping hard, tasting dust as he forced each breath. His vision blurred as the weight of his guilt overtook him.

"Tenzo!"

Strong arms pulled Yamato to his feet, snaked around his waist and lifted him out of the alley.


Yamato's eyes fluttered open and he awoke feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks. Filtered moonlight illuminated the room, and Yamato blinked in confusion as he realized he was lying on a couch in a home that wasn't his own.

"I gave you something to help you sleep, you looked like you needed it. I hope you don't mind."

Yamato sat up, facing the voice. "Kakashi-Senpai..."

Kakashi was standing in the doorway, his lazy eyes staring into Yamato. He had hoped Yamato would've slept through the night after the state he had found him in. Never before had he seen Yamato in such open anguish, and thought he might've been trapped in a genjutsu, before recognizing the panic attack for what it was. The realization of what his friend was going through was what had him decide not to take Yamato to the hospital, and instead try to care for him in a more private setting.

Yamato shifted under the weight of Kakashi's piercing gaze. The fact that Kakashi wasn't in his usual uniform, his face uncovered, and clad only in a thin white t-shirt and over sized sweats, made it all the more difficult for Yamato to maintain eye contact. He stared down, hands clenched around the warm sheet that covered his legs.

"Why am I in your home, Senpai?" he asked softly.

Kakashi walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. A full moon of light refracted off of a thick blanket of snow.

"It's been snowing for quite a while Tenzo. You should go back to sleep."

Frustration spiked in the pit of his belly. "I don't need sleep! I-" Yamato stopped abruptly. He knew exactly why he was there and guilt swelled in his chest. A long moment of silence stretched between them. Kakashi watched Yamato with a faint sadness.

"Well Tenzo, if you're not tired, I'll make you some tea."

" Please! Call me Yamato!" Yamato flinched at the harshness of his tone, but Kakashi simply walked into the kitchen and began filling the kettle with water. Again the room was filled with a tense silence.

"Senpai, I... Apologize. I..." Yamato hung his head in shame, as he struggled to offer up an explanation. He could feel the anxiety welling up again, the regret and shame that consumed him. He felt guilty for simply surviving the war and the guilt multiplied knowing he was used to help kill fellow Shinobi.

"Fuck." he thought as ever persistent tears stung his eyes. "Fuck..." he sighed.

Kakashi watched Yamato solemnly. He studied the slope of his shoulders; he could hear it in his voice and see it in the air around him. More than anything, he could see the self loathing in his eyes. To see his Kohai in such a manner... it hurt his heart. He sighed, turned the kettle off, and reached for the sake, pouring Yamato a generous cup.

"Drink this."

Yamato looked up to see a warm cup of clear liquid before his face. He reached for the glass slowly, deliberating with himself. He knew better than to drown his anxieties in liquor, but he was so exhausted from the nonstop mental battles. He grabbed the cup and swallowed its contains in a single gulp. Kakashi simply poured him another cup, remaining silent when he finished the second cup in the same manner as the first. Warmth pooled in his belly and radiated out through his limbs before resting on his cheeks and making him blush.

"Thank you, Kakashi-Senpai." he said softly as he grabbed the yet again refilled cup from Kakashi.

Kakashi sat on the seat besides him and took a sip from the bottle before looking over to Yamato. They locked eyes for a moment , and Yamato though it strange to see Kakashi without his Sharingan. But the sight of Kakashi without his mask was also a bit strange and the soft smile pulling at Kakashi's lips was- Yamato's eyes snapped back up to met Kakashi's. Kakashi looked dead serious.

"I won't pretend to know what you're feeling," Kakashi spoke matter of factly, in the same tone he reserved for missions, "The life of a Shinobi is... painful to say the least. And what happened today, it doesn't make you less of a man... or less of a Shinobi. Yamato, you're not alone." and then a little softer "I'm here for you, when you're ready, and if you never are... well," he rested a heavy hand on Yamato's shoulder "I'll still be here with you."

It was the sake, in a hundred years he would never admit to anything else. It was the sake that had pulled his guard down and allowed Kakashi's words to pierce deep into his ailing heart. He tried biting the inside of his cheek to stop the swell of emotion, but the first sob came out with a wretched gasp. His arm came up to bury his face within the crook of his elbow, but Kakashi pulled him tight against his chest and held him even as his body shook fiercly with his weeping. He clenched at his aching heart, and Kakashi pulled him closer still, until Yamato understood, and wrapped his arms around Kakashi. He sobbed and sobbed until his throat felt raw and his head spun with exhaustion. All the while, Kakashi whispered against his hair.

"Tenzo... It's OK Tenzo..."