The door is open, or rather there use to be a door. At this point in time an unfortunate slab of wood lies cattycorner to a splintered doorway. You don't even have to be an experienced shinobi never mind Anbu ( ex or active) to know this is Bad. In fact this reek of Bad, an invisible odor layered between that of standing water and poorly dried laundry. Kakashi shifts uncomfortably a china dish mask in hand. "Naruto?"
Blinking the sliver-haired man takes his courage in both hands (or rather reckons what Tsunade will do if he continues to stand here) and enters. Shivers feeling the echoes of something old and in pain; perhaps the residue of decades of despair and quiet desperation. 'Naruto.' The tiny allotment of space is dark and damp - floor an inch submerged. There is a glow only a foot ahead; a cool, pale lavender he can't ignore. 'Stupid.' But he touches it, motorized body scrunched into a graceful crouch.
Foolish and for a moment he is gone replaced by a scent like blood in the mouth and a sudden absence of air. Returning he ungracefully land on his ass scrambling away from the now apparently lifeless marble before him. Kakashi is terrified obviously, yet like a manikin dispossessed he stills before returning to himself. Single eye closed he sighs and in the darker comers of the space a picture tips over as laughter, bitter laughter is almost felt. The throaty-something strangles its self off in mid mumble trying not to howl. "A good guy promise Naruto. Remember in Wave? 'I will protect you with my life'." Laughter ghostly and a soft glowing further in.