Fragile We Fall
Chapter 1: Perfection
A wet droplet fell on Kakashi's nose and soaked through his mask as he stood and stared up at the sky. It was a dreary purple color, and judging from the thunder off in the distance, threatening to downpour. A gust of strong wind swept up the deserted street. It billowed around his loose-fitting black shirt and pants, sending a chill up his spine.
The wind carelessly whistled through the dense forest a few hundred yards away. Bright green leaves that usually adorned the rich trees of Konoha seemed to have turned darker, almost black, in the presence of the overcast sky. With every whip of the wind, and roll of thunder, the leaves shook and trembled, making noises that sounded like whispers.
Kakashi took a deep breath, and exhaled. One foot after the other, he continued walking at a steady pace. She stood waiting for him at the end of the quiet road.
He got nearer, and he could see that her face was troubled, and her brow knitted. Her hands hung lifelessly by her sides; they seemed almost dead. The simple black dress she wore seemed to drape over her body in the exact way her hands did. Her metal forehead protector was absent, and her hair fell limply in her face, covering her gaze.
As she looked up at him, her russet eyes were tinged with red, watering slightly. He stared at her, and his Sharingan throbbed under its loose bandages. His eyes felt dry, too dry.
"Rin," he murmured in a weary voice. The sound of her name falling from his lips sounded wrong. It tasted like shame in his mouth. That name should have been said from another's lips. But it was too late; that boy was already lost to the infinite abyss of death's clever creation.
He moved slowly, as if she were a timid creature he might accidentally frighten away. Taking her hand carefully in his and gently lacing their fingers, they began to walk slowly in unison, the rhythm to their stride locking in as one.
After traveling a short distance, Kakashi and Rin arrived at the site of the funeral. With their hands still clasped tightly together, they gradually made their way through the grief-stricken men and women that were gathered in a large crowd near the alter. Kakashi registered that many people he knew where present, including the Sandaime Hokage and some of the other young ninja his age. Most of the people, however, were relatives of Obito's.
Kakashi was only intending to find one person though, and he did just that with no difficulty. The canary-yellow hair of his sensei brightly stood out among the sea of black funeral clothes and dark Uchiha tresses, making him very easy to spot.
"We are very pleased that you could attend, Minato-san," remarked an older man standing next to Minato, "You were an important influence on Obito. He would have wanted you here," he continued with respect and admiration.
Minato nodded, and then noticed Kakashi approaching the group with Rin trailing close behind. "Hello Kakashi, Rin," Minato greeted with a curl of lips and flash of teeth. "These are Obito's parents," he gestured to the older man and a petite woman standing to his left.
"Pleased to meet you," said Kakashi with sincerity, extending his arm to shake both their hands. Rin politely followed suit. While stepping back, Kakashi examined the pair.
The man was aged, probably in his forties. His face was rough with stubble, but round just like Obito's. He had lackluster purple circles under his eyes, and even though he appeared to be well-built, it seemed as if Kakashi only had to flick his finger to knock the man over. The small woman near him was his wife; she had delicate looking hands which she was wringing disconcertedly. As she moved them to tuck an ebony lock of hair behind her ear, Kakashi noticed her striking obsidian eyes, which were reminiscent of Obito's, only they looked puffy and reddened, just as Rin's had been.
Obito's mother lightly touched her husband's arm, and he turned to glance at her before looking directly at Kakashi. His expression twisted into a look of pain as he started to speak.
"Listen, Kakashi..." he started with a heavy tone, pausing slightly for another glance back at his wife, "I can tell that Minato-san trusts you. If you say that Obito chose to give you his Sharingan before he died, that's what we believe, and we want you to keep it."
"Thank you," Kakashi replied calmly, looking the man in the eyes, "I'm sure it was Obito's utmost desire for his parents to be happy with his final decision."
Gaining courage, the woman stepped forward, "And you as well," she motioned to Rin with her hand, "If it weren't for you, Obito's last wish would not have been carried out. My husband and I are grateful to all three of you for the love and kindness you shared with Obito," she finished with a choking sob. The man put his arm around her consolingly, gave Minato a quick nod, and then turned to move away from the group.
"They seem to be handling it reasonably well," Rin remarked distantly. She stared past her two teammates to solemnly gaze at the retreating woman's back, wondering how much more sorrow and agony she herself would be experiencing if she had lost her own son like the woman did.
"Yeah," Minato agreed while placing a warm hand on Rin's shoulder, "They're strong-minded people." Rin sighed dejectedly, and was then interrupted by a gruff voice.
"The funeral for Uchiha Obito, who gave his life to ensure the success of a mission, and the prosperity of Konoha, will begin now," explained a tired-looking old man near the alter.
Kakashi frowned under his mask, though his exposed eye clearly hid his discomfort. The words of his fallen comrade echoed faintly in his mind...
"...Of course, those in the ninja world who break the rules and regulations are called trash...but...those who don't care about their companions are worse than trash. Anyway, if I'm that kind of trash, I'll break the rules! If that's not being a true shinobi...then I'll crush that idea of a shinobi!"
Obito didn't give his life for the mere success of the mission; he sacrificed himself to save his two comrades from an untimely and brutal death. The Uchiha boy deserved so much more than what he was meagerly given credit for.
Looking to the table upon which the alter sat, Kakashi observed a bouquet of pearl-white flowers, lying there like they were terribly exhausted. A tiny gray bowl sat upon the table in front of the flowers, containing two sticks of unlit incense. On the cloth covered stand behind them, a wooden frame bearing a photo of Obito rested.
Kakashi's brief time examining the alter was broken by a roar of thunder that cracked across the sky. Questioning with indifference, he pondered whether they would be hit with the storm, or if it would smoothly bypass the village.
A buzz in his ear came from a few of the funeral attendees complaining of the ominous weather while they gathered haphazardly a few yards from the alter. The elderly man then cleared his throat to speak again.
"We will begin by asking you to please join us in a moment of silence for our beloved son, friend and teammate," the man said gravely.
The mourners quickly became silent, and Kakashi was left only with the steady beat of his heart, and the cloudy thoughts in his mind. Then all around him, he heard people begin to weep, and sensed the silent tears rolling down Rin's purple-marked cheeks. Every wave of grief cascading over the arrangement of people seemed to flow into Kakashi and drown his self-restraint. The tightly wound spiral of discipline inside his chest was so tense that it seemed it would break any second.
He clenched his fists tightly and attempted to force the intense emotions back down, but it was like trying to stop an overflowing bathtub with no taps. A deep, shuddering breath filled his lungs as he felt his throat tightening and eyes growing wet. The painful memories broke free of their sanctuary in the back of his mind. He could see himself being hit by the dropping debris, tripping, falling...falling...falling onto the cold, merciless ground. Rin screamed his name in panic, as Obito doubled back to pick up Kakashi's limp body and throw him out of the way of the plummeting boulders.
As the rest of the earth tumbled down upon the floor of the cave, he awoke from his temporary state of unconsciousness only to find a young body, bruised and bloody, crushed under the immense weight of death itself.
The poor boy asked with a struggling voice if Kakashi and Rin were okay. His first and most noble priority had always been the welfare of his companions. Yelling his name at the same time, those companions rushed to Obito's side, only to find that there was no possible way of moving the huge rock on top of his frail form.
"That's enough...it's ok...Kakashi. It looks like it's over for me...the right side of my body is almost smashed...there's no feeling in it..."
Hearing this, Rin began to whisper words of denial and Obito coughed up crimson blood. Kakashi cursed and slammed his fist into the ground so hard it felt like the bones in his hand had broken. His body began to tremble and convulse as he hissed out his words between clenched teeth.
"I...from the beginning, if I'd gone along with what you'd said and went with you to rescue Rin...something like this wouldn't have happened! ...What kind of commander?! What kind of Jounin...?!"
The appalling guilt he had felt during that single instant had almost been enough to kill him, it seemed. It still haunted the recesses of his complex brain all the way back in Konoha, where he stood among the select few who had devoted so much of their love to this one boy who's death was resting upon own shoulders.
Snapping back to reality, Kakashi realized that the moment was already over, though it seemed that a lifetime had passed. The old man had already turned to light the two sticks of incense in the granite bowl on the table. After this task was complete, he turned back feebly to face the mass of people.
"The incense is lit, and we will now begin the procession. Please assemble in a single file line to receive your flower," he stated.
Everyone shuffled over to the table off to the right to receive their flower, and Kakashi and Rin secured a spot near the back of the line. One by one, each person picked up a single white flower from the side table, walked to the alter and placed it to the right or left of the pedestal upon which Obito's picture rested.
It seemed as if Obito's eyes were watching him ominously as Kakashi placed the last flower of the bunch to the right of the pedestal. He cautiously stared at the picture for a few seconds before turning to skulk back to his place next to Rin.
"Before we end the ceremony, is there anything that anyone would like to say?" he inquired.
Rin grasped Kakashi's hand as if to silently ask whether or not he would choose to speak in honor of Obito. Kakashi turned slowly to look at her from his uncovered eye. Giving her hand a light squeeze, he shook his head 'no' in response. At this, her eyebrows creased and she sharply let go of his hand.
"Why not?" she whispered with a hint of trepidation in her voice.
"It's not my place to speak," he said simply and when she didn't seem content with that answer, "Minato-sensei will probably say something though..." he murmured. She gave him a half-smile, but he could tell that she had been counting on him to make a speech. Feeling guilty all over again, he stared hollowly at the burning sticks of incense on the alter.
During their short exchange, three men had separated from the group to stand next to the aged man. The first was Obito's father, the second was Minato, and the third was a man with chin length, wispy brown hair, and a facial expression that looked like he had just smelled something extremely unpleasant.
Staring at the brown haired man, Kakashi was sure he had seen him before, and was almost positive that he was an Uchiha. His name though, did not come to mind, so he mentally shrugged it off and looked to the old man.
"The eulogies will now begin," he said cordially. He extended a brittle hand to his right, and Obito's father got the message to begin. While stepping forward a few paces, Minato and the brown-haired Uchiha moved off to the side to let him have the floor. A peaceful silence then descended on the crowd as everyone focused their attention on Obito's father.
"I have a poem I would like to read, which was courteously picked out by my wife, Miyu," he announced. Slipping his bulky hand into his pocket, he pulled out a weathered and wrinkled piece of paper. Looking up at everyone once and then back to the scrawled words on the sheet, he took a deep breath before beginning to read.
"I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.
"I wonder if they bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.
"I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.
"I wonder if when years have piled—
Some thousands—on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;
"Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.
"The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies, —
Death is but one and comes but once
And only nails the eyes.
"There's grief of want, and grief of cold, —
A sort they call 'despair,'
There's banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.
"And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly yet to me
A piercing comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,
"To note the fashions of the cross
Of those that stand alone
Still fascinated to presume
That some are like my own."
As his last words echoed throughout the site, no one dared to even breathe. Kakashi was speechless. His shoulders slowly slouched and he gazed at the ground. With a look of apprehension in his eye, he wondered if it would ever be possible for him to heal from this horrible sense of loss that the poem had evoked. Guilt and pain and fear were all welled up inside of him, but this poem had helped him somewhat to put things into perspective. The simple usage of words in the verses had tapped into his consciousness, and made him think about the complex and cruel nature of grief more so than anything else.
Stealing a look at Rin, he saw that she was troubled as well. It was obvious that the messages of the poem had sunk deep into the hearts of all the mourners.
Breaking the silence yet again, the old man uttered a "Thank you," to Obito's father, "Minato, if you would please—"
"I'm sorry, but I believe it would only be the proper thing to do to allow Fugaku-san to go before myself," Minato said with an air of courtesy.
The brunette named Fugaku gave a hmph in response and then walked to take the place of Obito's father while the other man went to stand next to his wife in the throng of people.
With a strict look on his face, Fugaku swiped out a crisply folded piece of paper from his pocket. Studying it for only a second, he then started his speech in a dull, monotonous voice.
"Although Obito was a bit unorthodox at times, he was a promising young shinobi with a great amount of potential. This possibility for potential shone through during his mission to Hidden Rock, when he awakened his Sharingan for the first time. It's a terrible tragedy that he did not get to put much use to this highly feared and dangerous weapon. If circumstances had turned out differently, maybe he would have been able to keep this Uchiha blessing and look down upon us with his gifted eyes.
I speak on the behalf of the Uchiha clan when I say that we are all be very grateful to him for helping to prevent a war with Hidden Rock. So after the onset of this misfortune, we should look to the future, to raise more competent shinobi for Konoha, who, like Obito, can serve our village to the fullest."
As Fugaku finished his monologue, Rin stared at Kakashi incredulously.
"He doesn't know anything about Obito." Rin whispered with annoyance, "And his ego couldn't be any bigger. He didn't even mention us either!" Her hands balled into fists and the nicely-manicured fingernails she had tenaciously attended to just for this day gauged into her once-smooth palms.
"I know. He makes it out to sound like I purposefully caused his death and stole his Sharingan," Kakashi whispered back with a heavy crease of his brow. His hands began to shake slightly.
"It's okay," she said, calming down. "Look, Minato-sensei is next; just let him give a real speech," she put a gentle hand on his arm, trying to convince herself as much as Kakashi that things would turn out alright. Her small effort had been wasted though; thoughts began to swirl in Kakashi's head until he couldn't think anymore.
Kakashi wanted to run. He wanted to run far away from this place; he wanted to run away from these people who acted oblivious to everything that Obito had really been. He wanted to cast away these arrogant shinobi of the village, the same ones who had caused the White Fang to take his own life without a backward glance. Were these people even human? Were they aware of the pain they caused others by their indifference and whimsical scarification of human lives?
Had Kakashi himself been just like them before that mission?
His head was spinning, but his feet were tightly cemented to the ground. The only thing keeping them stoic was Rin. He knew that she desperately needed comfort and closure; him running away from everything wouldn't help her. But Kakashi wasn't sure that he could be the one to provide her with those things. If only Obito was here in Kakashi's place...he was much better suited for the job.
It should have been me. I was the one that deserved to die. Not Obito.
"Uchiha Obito." The name fell softly from Minato's lips, almost an echo of Kakashi's thoughts.
"He touched so many lives even though it may not seem like it. The old woman in the flower shop...the man who sells bread on the corner each morning...they all knew who the cheerful dark-haired boy was. But the people who will remember him the most are Obito's family. His parents, who raised and nurtured him from the start. And although some may not realize it, Obito had another family. His team.
Kakashi and Rin will agree with me when I say that it has been a privilege to know someone as valiant as Obito-kun. He knew how to embrace the power of love and use it to become stronger. In this time of mourning we are all filled with sorrow; but we should keep an optimistic outlook on life and remember all the good things that Obito has taught us. Obito...I look forward to the day when I will see you again. Rest in peace, my friend."
A light applause followed the end of the speeches, as people began to shuffle about. Kakashi and Rin went to meet up with Minato.
"Good speech, sensei," remarked Rin evenly as she and Kakashi approached Minato.
"Thanks Rin, although I'm not usually one for speech making..." he chuckled, scratching the back of his head with awkward embarrassment. "Anyway, the three of us were— albeit grudgingly— invited to attend the second ceremony at the memorial stone."
"Oh, that's right...he's...getting his name on the stone, isn't he?" said Rin absently.
"Yes, it'll be a great honor," replied Minato.
"Sensei— " Kakashi suddenly blurted, "Do you want your name on that stone?"
Minato thought for a moment, "I don't know Kakashi. I'm willing to take whatever life decides to throw at me. It's important to live your life as a ninja to the fullest, without any regrets, because you never know if the next day is going to be your last."
With the words of Minato and Obito still floating in his mind, Kakashi wondered how many days he had left to live, how many more people he would have to see die, before his own time came. He didn't even know if it was possible to live with no regrets. It seemed like such a perfect way to live.
And Kakashi knew now that he was far from perfect.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Review/critique if you want?
Credit for the poem goes to Emily Dickinson.