This was my first time writing since high school, so a couple of years ago. I just kind of wanted to work out what i thought would happen to Kakashi if Tenzou were to die. I appreciate all feedback!
Thud. Thud. Thud. The rubber sole of his cane thudded against the tile has he slowly made his way down the sullen halls of the hospital. The building felt desolate to him, but it was far from empty. Even weeks after the end of the fourth great ninja war, patients, were rushed in and out of operating rooms while doctors sped down hallways, their noses buried in files, patient records, and schedules.
Kakashi had never liked hospitals. As soon as he was able, he was always leaping out the windows to wander through the village or find a quiet tree branch to read his favorite book on. He liked seeing the people in town going about their business, talking to their neighbors, playing with their children. He sometimes went so long without human interaction that he was afraid he would forget. Forget how to talk to people, how to carry a conversation. How to laugh. This time, however, he was not anxious to leave and get home. He laid on his hard hospital mattress, covered in his starchy sheets, and that is where he stayed until the doctors finally told him he had to go, that there were other patients who needed the room, that his leg wound healed long ago.
He gripped his cane tighter, swallowed hard, and pressed on towards the entrance of the hospital.
Tenzou used to visit him in the hospital. He would bring him food and provide company, desperately trying to keep in bed so he wouldn't re-injure himself. Kakashi would never admit it, but he enjoyed the time Tenzou spent there with him. He enjoyed talking to him, and remembering old stories from when they were in Anbu together. Like the time a rookie had collected the wrong berries and subsequently vomited for days afterwards. Kakashi was reluctant to nap during the day because he was afraid he would miss his visit. That he would awake and find a nurse checking his vitals who would tell him that he had just left.
Tenzou didn't visit this time. He didn't bring food. And he didn't poke fun at Kakashi's books.
After the battle against Obito and Madara ended, a team of sensory ninja were dispatched to make sure there was no more wounded on the battlefield. After they had finished with that, they started looking for the enemy's hide out. That's when they found him. He was still attached to Hashirama's body. His head hung down, his mouth slightly ajar. They said he had been dead for a while. And there was nothing they could have done for him. Even if he was still clutching to life, they wouldn't have known how to separate him from Hashirama's body. Tsunade could have done it. But she, too, died in the war.
The mint green walls came to an end and the tile changed into concrete underneath his feet. Kakashi's exposed eye squinted in the sunlight and he took a deep breath, the air filtering through his mask and cooling the fabric. He was outside.
He was sitting in his hospital bed when the doctor came in. Kakashi lazily looked up from his bland meal, served by an un-empathetic nurse and waited to hear the doctor ramble about how his leg was healing. The doctor didn't speak right away though. He looked at kakashi for a few moments with those eyes and tight lips. Suddenly the doctor look familiar, like he had seen this face before. And he had. He saw it every day for a long time after his father died. Kakashi put his fork down. He said that for a while they didn't know who to tell. Tenzou had no family and not many friends because of the Anbu. The doctor had heard that the two of them were close. Close, kakashi mused, yes, they were close. His mask was sitting around the base of his neck, but now he tugged it back up and over his nose. He tried to protect himself from an impossible enemy. The doctor kept talking.
Soon he left, and the door to his room closed. Kakashi slid the tray off his lap and it fell to the floor, clattering loudly and echoing through the room. The nurses didn't come in. He leaned forward into his knees, causing the wound from surgery on his leg to sting painfully. He felt sick. He swung his legs off the bed and leaned forward trying to make it to the bathroom. His leg was still weak though and he immediately collapsed from the weight of his body. He grabbed at his mask and yanked it back down to his chin, gasping for air. He could't breathe. The air wouldn't fill his lungs. And soon he was retching. His stomach emptying itself of the contents from the terrible hospital meal. There, on the cold floor of the cold hospital, he willed himself to die.
The air outside was too cold, Kakashi thought. The sun shone too brightly, burning his eyes. He started walking again, back to his apartment, noting that the grass surrounding the hospital had grown much too high. The trees throughout the village had lost their leaves long ago and he could't help but find their remaining limbs ugly and decrepit. He grimaced at the sight of them. His leg started to ache but Kakashi continued forward into town. The village people were bundled and sped between shops trying desperately to fill their errand lists and get out of the cold. With each person who cut too close to him, Kakashi rolled his eyes and huffed. With each group of children who played too loudly or too near to him, he shot a glare in their direction.
After the war, the townspeople had all been quick to return to their day to day lives and focus their attention back on rebuilding the village but Kakashi was sickened by this. There needed to be more of a time for mourning those lost in the war. It was disrespectful to resume their lives so easily.
Kakashi sluggishly crept his way through the town, all the while gripping his cane tightly. He slowed even further when he came to the row of houses that Tenzou had first created after Pain destroyed the village. He remembered how Tenzou was quick to lend his abilities to help Konoha, and it's people were quick to take advantage of this. For a long time after the destruction, Tenzou would stay out all day, using his chakra to create homes and shops until he could barely walk home. The townspeople always wanted more from him though and he always obliged.
'you know,' Kakashi told him one night, after he collapsed exhausted onto their couch, 'you don't need to work yourself to the bone. There are carpenters in the village.'
'I just want to do my part...' The jounin muttered. A few seconds later Kakashi could hear his breathing turn steady. He was fast asleep. Kakashi smiled down on him.
Now he looked up at the remnants of Tenzou's life. All he could think when he saw the houses, was that the people in them probably didn't know who created them. The life he lived. The good he had done for the village.
He walked up to the wooden house and ran his hand along it. It didn't feel like Tenzou. He held is face close and breathed in the smell of the wood. It didn't smell like Tenzou. Kakashi turned and quickened his pace home. Tenzou was really gone.