this beast is interjecting
Behind his mask, Kakashi breathes in air and his breath stutters on the exhale, clogged with tulips and white camelias and forget me not blues.
The blue petals overwhelm his throat, have tickled at the edges of his lips for years now.
Kakashi knows he will die from this. He will keel over and choke on the mass of blue and white that pours from his mouth- it increases everyday. For 13 years, he has choked on his regrets and his love that can never be returned.
They bloom in his lungs, soaking up the sunshine and they are radiant in his palms, sometimes full flowers, and sometimes just petals. They seem to glow, each petal soft and healthy. The stems are hooked in blood and flesh, and he is thankful for the mask that obscures the stains.
He doesn't want to lose these feelings. He knows that if anyone knows, they will seek help. They will cut these weeds from his lungs and he will no longer burn for someone he cannot have.
And he must burn.
He lost everything for a boy with red eyes that shone in the dark, and so he lets this forest of death fester in his body.
He deserves this pain.
Vines tangle around his tongue when he meets Tenzo and he hates. He hates with a fury he thought he had buried but they vines stay where they are. This man is not his soulmate, can never be his soulmate because that man is lost— but the vines that ensnare are sharp, tiny edges that scratch and scrape. Sometimes, the iron tang of blood chases away the taste of sorrow flowers on his tongue— just for a moment.
So he leaves those curling wires in place, and chokes on the mass of bloody petals in the morning. Lies tangle around his world, binding him into the ground if he dares to stay still for too long.
Sakura notices, before anyone else.
Before Anko, who is inside his personal bubble as often as she can be and who can smell blood in the air from a mile away.
Before Naruto and his insatiable curiousity, before Iruka and his well meaning care- before anyone, pale green eyes glance his way, flickering to the dark mark on his mask and—
She smiles, a dark thing and it's suddenly clear.
Blood smears across her teeth and daisy petals peak from behind her canines, curled almost lovingly around her incisors. The sharp tang of bitterness cloys her words, wry amusement sitting like a front against the world.
"You should get a gardener to trim those, Sensei. They're growing too hard to disguise."
Kakashi allows his lips to tilt, a perfunctory gesture and his blood sings as wire curls across his tongue, scraping and biting.
"Maa, maybe the Yamanaka will trim yours for you."
They exchange a glance and Kakashi knows she won't tell.
Neither of them will.
They don't ever bring it up again- but if Sakura hands Kakashi a spare canteen during a mission, as he chokes on blood and plant matter- well, that's only what a teammate should do.
Right?
i want sacred, I want final