The sharp knife of a short life

Well, I've had just enough time

She had died alongside hundreds of shinobi, but Sakura's parents did not want her buried among them. No one, not even the friends who loved her best, could find it in their hearts to deny her parents their wish, the people who had given up their daughter, their only baby, for the good of Konoha.

She never stood a chance. The moment she joined the others in their last stand against Obito's murderous rampage to completely destroy the world, it seemed inevitable. Obito had seen her, had known her the moment she arrived, known what she had meant to Naruto.

Above all else, Obito was hellbent on making Naruto understand a fraction of what his own twisted soul felt.

She never stood a chance when that red gaze turned on her.

In the end, no one could save her when the man he'd once known as friend swiftly and surely ripped her heart from her chest. He'd been too fast, and they had been blindsided. She didn't even have time to know what was happening, didn't even have time to shout, those brilliant green eyes only widened slightly as she slumped dead at their feet.

That was the last he remembered of it, really. When Kakashi opened his eyes again, it had been three months since Sakura had been dead and cold, and buried in the ground.

He had looked for her in those first few days. How he could've forgotten the horrific way she had died, he did not know, but he understood later that the mind had ways to help cope with these things. He had asked the nurses for his former student, and he failed to notice the nervous way they answered him, the uncertain way they glanced at each other before they responded with lies.

"She's still busy with the other patients."

"She was here earlier, but you were asleep."

"She sends her regards."

He thought he'd seen her pass by, a wisp of pink hair floating by his doorway, a familiar laugh that echoed down the hallway, and he was convinced that the pink carnations on his bedside table were undoubtedly from her, arranged lovingly by her hand. He thought-he had honestly thought-that he was in the hospital after some S-rank mission, and he had overexerted himself again. It would only be a matter of time before she visited him. She always had. When Naruto and Sasuke had left, Sakura had been the constant in his life during those years.

But the days came and went, and she never arrived.

Then he remembered Naruto's screams of agony.

Cemeteries, Kakashi knew, were for the living and not the dead.

Her name was on the cenotaph, but her ashes were not where they were supposed to be.

He'd stayed at the hospital as long as was necessary, and it was more than enough time to take stock of their losses. Most of his peers had survived and were in various stages of recovery, but he discovered that the Hokage had died on the battlefield. Many of the younger jounin were also killed in action, and they included Neji Hyuga, Tenten, and Chouji, among others.

Naruto had disappeared the moment the battle was over, without even saying goodbye, without even attending his oldest friend's funeral.

Kakashi had heard that despite his absence, the funeral was well-attended. Civilians had borne the worst of the war, and Sakura was still one of their own despite her status as a shinobi. They didn't bury her in her uniform, just a white dress with pearls and a ring on her finger, like she was about to get married. No one complained, least of all she. She was one of them, and they claimed her in death. She had been well-loved on both sides of the fence, but what good did love do now?

He stood over her grave now at the civilian's cemetery, fresh flowers laid in front of a framed photograph of her in her jounin uniform. She did not follow the standard of keeping a neutral face and instead had smiled widely at the camera, and that smile seemed to be mocking him now. He couldn't stand to look at it for too long.

He had wanted to say something. It had always been his way with the others, with Rin and Minato-sensei, and yes, Obito, but he found that he had no words to say. Through the years, Kakashi had been able to find some sort of meaning in the deaths of his teammates, but Sakura's death had been pointless and even rather pathetic. She didn't even get the chance to fight for her life. It had been done to get a reaction out of someone, a child pushing a vase to see what would happen, for the pleasure of watching it shatter.

He remembered when she first shattered the ground with her fist.

"Found you, sensei." she almost sang.

"Found you."

He visited her parents next.

They were in the middle of rebuilding their shop, and hadn't expected him. Kakashi, the man who had always something to say even if he really didn't say anything, couldn't find the words to fill up the spaces between them. He had avoided them for so long precisely because the possibility of her death, with her being so weak, during those early years hung heavy over him.

And now she was dead and out of his hands, he found it too heavy on his own.

They sat quietly and drank tea. They weren't angry with him, they were quick to explain. Sakura had chosen that life and although they weren't too happy about it, she was happy, and that was what mattered. He knew this was a mantra they repeatedly told themselves, so they wouldn't hate themselves in the end.

Sakura's mother had been quick to bring out the photographs and mementos that had survived the devastation of the war. There were many of Sakura as a child, as when he first knew her, but very little of when she was a full-fledged jounin. There were letters describing school, classes, her excitement at graduating, and there were some letters about him.

Kakashi-sensei is weird, and I don't think he's a very good teacher, her childish handwriting had scrawled. Naruto set up the door so when he came in, an eraser fell on his head, and what kind of jounin lets that happen?

Her next letter read thus: I miss you, Mama. I can't write about it, but the missions are scary sometimes. But Kakashi-sensei is here, so I know everything will be alright.

He felt his chest tighten. It was too much. It was too intrusive. He pushed the letters away and murmured an excuse to leave. But before he could, Sakura's father spoke up:

"Sensei,"

Kakashi paused.

The man looked straight at him, and Kakashi could see the weight of his only daughter's death behind his eyes. "You were there when my daughter died?"

The jounin nodded.

"Thank you." Kizashi closed his eyes. "Then I know she didn't die alone and afraid."

Kakashi didn't say anything, didn't want to disabuse the man of his illusion, but he knew that everyone died alone and afraid.

Sakura had left her apartment clean before she left, as if she had been expecting to return.

Kakashi clambered through the window carefully. Her building was one of those that were miraculously spared, but as of the time being was still considered uninhabitable. He had no worry about her protection seals-those had died along with her. Whatever precious she had left here was his for the taking.

Two framed pictures of her teams stood proudly on her shelf, but the owner wasn't there to admire it any longer. He carefully settled himself on her bed and surveyed the room. She lived the usual way ninjas lived-sparsely and neatly. But her scent was gone. The months that passed had ensured it was gone forever.

Sensei, he could almost hear her voice from the kitchen. Hmpf...wounded again? Just in time for dinner? Will wonders ever cease...

This is the last time, he had said. I promise.

She had held his hands a little longer than was necessary after his wounds were healed, and he let her. Neither of them knew what was happening, and neither of them knew it was going to be their last time alone together.

Sensei...maybe after this...we can talk. Naruto had needed them, and that held more urgency.

Alright, Sakura.

But he had woken up and she was gone.

Sakura had reminded him of Rin in those early days. How could she not? Those round eyes, the sunny disposition, her obvious crush. He had held her at arm's length, and had been perhaps a little too careful on her. He believed her fragile, and that at one point, she'd simply give up and go back to the life she'd been used to.

But Sakura held on, and Sakura changed.

She screamed and shouted and punched and had her way, and the ghost of Rin disappeared.

But.

She hadn't been numb to the effects of his treatment of her.

I don't think Kakashi-sensei likes me that much, Sakura's childish voice echoed in his mind. They had been on a mission and the children thought he was sleeping. She had been keeping watch with Naruto, then.

Why do you say that, Sakura-chan?

Well, sometimes he looks at me and it's like he's surprised to see me there, like he's forgotten all about me and he's annoyed to see me there.

That's stupid, Sakura-chan! How can anyone be annoyed with you?

Sasuke's annoyed with me.

Sasuke's annoyed with everyone. The two fell silent as they tried to sense if Kakashi was truly asleep.

Sakura-chan...can you keep a secret?

Alright.

I think Sensei's just being careful with you. You know, 'cause you're a girl and all.

That's stupid!

That's just my theory!

He remembered Naruto then, and Naruto when he saw the boy last. Naruto had been there until the end, as he held her broken body close and told her that he loved her, always loved her and no one else.

He was the only person smart enough to tell her these things before it was too late.

"Sakura," Kakashi finally said to the empty room, his throat dry after so many hours of silence.

She had promised that talk before they went their separate ways. He was here now, and he was hoping that somehow, she was, too.

He had believed it then with the others, and he had to believe it now.

He cleared his throat. "This is probably going to sound stupid, and if you were around, you'd give me a well-deserved beatdown and I won't resist. Really, I won't. But the thing is, Sakura, I forgot to tell you something before I left."

Kakashi smiled cheerfully into the emptiness of Sakura's room and drew down his mask. "I'm sorry I was a failure as a teacher, and even more so as a protector. I've never been a good one, to be honest. But Naruto was right. I had been very careful of you to a fault, although you've shown yourself that you didn't need it. So for that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't protect you when I should have, and taught you become stronger when I could have."

An errant breeze made the wind chimes above Sakura's window tinkle softly.

"And even though I think you already knew it, I'm going to say it anyway." he looked at Sakura's favorite chair in the room, and he could almost imagine her sitting there, listening intently.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words did not come. It clung to his throat stubbornly, promised to torment him for years to come.

Kakashi had spoken to the dead all the time, but this was the one time that he found himself rebelling against it.

He thought, he dared not say it when she was alive, why burden her with it now that she was dead?

The words and their meaning, after all, were dead with her.

Kakashi sat in the darkness for a long time, and said nothing. Somewhere, the wind chimes sang sadly.

When he finally stood up to leave, he felt, for the first time in his life, that his old age had finally caught up with him.

A/N: This is a result of reading a rather depressing speculation on the outcome of the battle against Obito and listening to "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry on repeat.