IDIL's Note: Hey guys! :D Long time, no see! I'm always super busy and super uninspired now, so it's hard for me to continue putting out stuff. But as an Easter gift, here's a KakaRin! ;D There are LOTS of metaphors incorporated into this fic, and I hope you guys can see some of them. Now this Easter ficlet (while not being Easter themed at all!) is dedicated to a long time reader/reviewer of my KakaRin fics: crzyaznsroxursox! I really appreciate your support! So hope you enjoy it! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
She looks up at the sky blankly, watching the rain fall from the sky. A sigh escapes her lips at the soothing feeling of the cool water running over her face, onto her clothes, drenching her body. She's grateful; it gives her something to focus on other than his tombstone.
She closes her eyes and concentrates on the feeling of the rain, trying to follow its way as it glides smoothly off her shoulders and down her arms. She's getting cold but she doesn't mind; cold is little price to pay for these few moments of internal peace. Suddenly, it stops. No more cooling rain falls on her face and she opens her eyes in annoyance, just in time to see a hand holding an umbrella above her.
Irritably she turns towards the offending person, ready to give them a piece of her mind for disturbing her. Don't they know to leave a good thing when they see it? Don't people understand that not every little thing must be destroyed? That there can and should be peace? She looks straight into the person's eyes and understands immediately. It's him. For him, he can't leave a good thing anymore when he sees it, especially when that good thing is her. He must destroy every little thing, because that's all he really knows how to do properly. And as for peace? He's never gotten the meaning of the word. But she puts up with it, because it's him. Because it's Kakashi.
Another sigh barely escapes her lips before he scolds her. "Rin, what are you doing?"
"I'm visiting a friend," she turns to the tombstone and cringes at how harsh, how accusing her words sound.
He must have caught her bitterness as well, for he is silent for a few moments, and she hates herself even more because she must have hurt him. Still, he eventually moves beside her, shielding her with his large, dark umbrella.
"He was my friend too, you know." He shifts the umbrella further over to the left; her shoulder's still exposed.
"I know that," she mumbles irritably, and swats the top of the umbrella away; he doesn't move it back. "Something tells me you're not just here to protect me from the rain," she means it in the best way possible, he knows she does, but the way the words come from her lips, it sounds as if she is mocking him.
He can't take it.
"I get it, ok? I'm not stupid."
"No one said you were. Quite the contrary Kakashi."
"Then stop treating me like an idiot."
"You deserve it." She winces. "Sorry, I didn't –"
"You did," he cuts her off. "And I do deserve it."
They lapse into silence. Time passes, but it doesn't do anything.
"So, what are you here for?" She decides to break it. "Leaving for another mission?"
For a moment he winces, because he can hear what she really means. Leaving me again for another mission. The worst part is, it's true. He leaves because he doesn't, can't deal with it all. Especially not her and the way she's seemed to change. He can't predict her now, can't save her from anything. He doesn't like it. Not one bit. But he ignores it, and decides that this pain and the pain of losing Obito are his punishment and he should just sit back and take it.
"Soon," he nods. "But I always come here. I come every single day to visit him, hopingevery single day that the guilt, the pain will get better."
She turns to him surprised, with a sad smile on her face, and takes the umbrella from his hands, shifting it into her left one so that she may take his frigid fingers in hers. She looks him in the eyes. "And does it? Make the guilt get better, I mean."
He turns away from her, taking the umbrella back into his hands and shifting it so that it rests only above her head. "Honestly?" He waits for her to nod; in that time he will gather the courage to tell her the truth, but not the whole truth. If he were to actually let loose the whole truth, he'd tell her that as much as they'd both like it to be, he has a feeling that nothing will be ok again. That things are just going to get worse and worse. He has a feeling the world will have to combust before things return to normal. He worries his feelings may be right. But alas he doesn't tell her, and maybe in some twisted way, she hears even what he's not telling her. Rin always seemed to have some sort of telepathic abilities. Even so, some part of him hopes she doesn't know. He's sure that she's a good person, and good people deserve to have hope for something better; scratch that, they do deserve something better.
He's turned with his back to her now. "No."
She pushes the umbrella back so that it covers him instead, and turns her gaze back towards the sky. "That's what I feared. I thought if I came here, he'd give me some answers, you know, offer me something. Obito was always like that; he always wanted to help but didn't know how. It's pretty useless for me to come here for that though. I guess the dead can't give answers, huh? No signs or anything to tell you what to do?"
He looks back over towards her, just in time to see her fists clench and her eyes water. She stares sadly over at Obito's gravesite and then turns around and walks away.
He is left there, watching her walk away before back to Obito's tombstone. How many times had he come here looking for the same thing? For the answer, the explanation, the few phrases that could possibly make him forgive himself? Too many too count. And it had barely been a couple of months. "You've failed her, you know," he says to the stone, hoping to provoke a reaction from the dead boy underneath it, or maybe from within himself, 'cause he figures this could all be a twisted message his conscience is trying to project to him. "Now is when she needs you to be there most for her, and you're failing her. You're losing her."
No response comes. Ever. So he looks to the sky much in the way she had. "I guess the dead really can't give answers." Then he feels something cold on his face, something soothing dripping down his forehead. He closes his eyes, relishing it, and for a few moments, he has his inner peace.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat. The rain goes on.