I was… "I'm bored.. Why not make a fic?" and then, BOOM! This was written. I'm kind of new at this…
Disclaimer: Me no own anything, do not sue.
(atrophy: noun; deterioration , wasting away, weakening)
Dark.
He awakes, eyes wide as he tries to control his breathing. Skin glistening in sweat, he sighs and wipes the red liquid on the corners of his mouth. He lies back down on his bed but cannot bring himself back to the state of unconsciousness.
The pain won't go away anymore.
And all of a sudden, everything is suffocating; the air, the sheets of his bed, the obscurity…
the loneliness.
He fists his pale hands into the blankets, trying to do anything just to stop the searing pain filling his lungs.
Ironic, the reason he kept this from everyone was to keep them from helping – pitying – him, yet, right this moment, all he wants is for anyone to come to his aid.
4 weeks left.
Just breathe. Calm. He pathetically reaches out his hand, wishing – but it seems impossible – somebody is there, miraculously going to relieve him from this.
Kami, please. He's just surprised he can even manage to think kind-of-straight even with his predicament.
His dull, mismatched eyes, with all the strength drained, begin to close themselves. It's difficult to struggle anymore. And his hand falls back unto his side as he completely shuts himself.
Give up. Useless. In the end, it's still death anyway.
3 weeks and 6 days left.
And everything is ignored; the starless night has passed, and a new dawn is breaking in.
And somehow, he knows the sky would cry tomorrow.
.
.
His former students are waiting for him, just as usual. He tries not to mess it up; no, they shouldn't know.
Heh, they'd be crushed. His ego is getting the best of him.
Why would they? It's not like they have been caring.
When they manage to break the self-imposed walls, he'd just build them up again. Push them away, and expect them to still care.
"You're late!" They scream in unison; apparently, they've gotten too sick of this little habit of his as both look like they would bury him alive without mercy. He finds himself smiling at the thought.
Dying because of my lateness is better than dying because of that, anyway. I'd take it anytime.
He puts up his apathetic façade, shrug at them and states, "Let's go."
.
.
The rain falls hard. Soaking all of them.
He feels dizziness overcome him, but it is gone as soon as it came.
They have been far from the borders of Konohagakure when he feels the fatigue and a pang in his chest.
He lets out a gasp and falls on his knees with a thud.
"Kakashi-sensei!" Naruto and Sakura rushes to his side. The blonde lays the jounin on his back. And Sakura, she frantically checks for his vital signs,
they want to make sure you're okay, that you'll be fine.
His eyes are giving up on him already, as he gasps for air like a fish out of water, urgently. There is buzzing in his ears, the corners of his eyes were darkening, the taste of the coppery liquid in his mouth. And he doesn't quite notice his mask was getting soaked with blood. Slowly, the pain in his chest becomes a dull ache at the back of his mind.
It'll all pass.
He falls unconscious.
.
.
Sakura is watching over him, worried eyes on him.
He weakly opens his eyes.
"You never told us you're ill." Her voice feigns anger, perhaps she is, but…
She is accusing.
"You know sensei, shishou is an excellent healer. She could have cured you if you just told!" She is about to cry. He cannot stand to see her like this.
"Gomen, Sakura." He tries to smile at her. Trying to comfort her with one of his lies again.
'Daijoubu, Sakura-chan, everything will be back to normal. We'll find Sasuke,' he smiles.
Heh, she probably won't believe you after that crap.
"No, it's too late now sensei. Naruto and I trusted you! You just…" She trails into a whisper, her voice cracking.
He doesn't want an argument right now; his chest is beginning to ache again.
"Gomenasai, Sakura-chan…"
Days are numbered, and he shuts them again, memories burning behind his eyes.
3 weeks and 5 days left.
It' all come to death anyway. So you stop caring too.
But you're sorry; you wish they wouldn't see you like this.
3 weeks and 4 days left. And memories that you buried behind your mind resurface and come back to haunt you in your dreams.
3 weeks and 3 days left.
You wish you'd just told them earlier.
It's too late now.
