Disclaimer: I am not Masashi Kishimoto, nor am I any member of the band Sum 41, whose song Pieces is featured in this fic. Enjoy!
I tried to be perfect
But nothing was worth it
I don't believe it makes me real
It all began when he was a child.
The loneliness. The pain.
He looked up to his father. Worshipped him, even. It was a muggy summer night when, eager to show his father a new jutsu he had learned, he came bounding through the door. Only to stop in his tracks. The image of his father's crumpled, bloodied body was forever ingrained in his mind.
His hero. His idol. Gone forever. Death by shame.
His father believed he had nothing to live for. This, Kakashi supposed, meant that he was nothing in his father's eyes. Incapable. Undeserving. Worth abandoning.
I thought it'd be easy
But no one believes me
I meant all the things I said
The shouting matches with his mother left them both broken. Shattered. In pieces. As if they weren't already.
She was suffocating him, holding him too tightly, to closely. Desperate to cling to the one part of Sakumo she had left. And he pushed her away. He brushed her aside, seeing her as one obstacle of the many that stood in the way of his training.
So when he came home one night to the sight of her limp body hanging from the rafter, he felt guilty. Perhaps if he had been there for her, she wouldn't have left him.
But he had meant every single word he'd said.
This realization sickened him.
If you believe it's in my soul
I'd say all the words that I know
"Obito? Obito!"
The rock would not budge. He crouched, helpless, beside his broken body.
"Damn it!"
Frail, cracked lips turned up in a smile. Forgiveness. Forgiveness he did nothing to deserve. Rin quickly set to work. The Sharingan was given to him in a blur.
And then Obito was gone.
Just to see if it would show
That I'm trying to let you know
That I'm better off on my own
Ruffling silver hair, Minato gave him one last, quick, sad smile before turning away. He paused.
"Forgive yourself, Kakashi. Or it will ruin you."
And he walked away.
That was the last time Kakashi ever saw him.
The advice was never taken to heart. But never forgotten.
This place is so empty
My thoughts are so tempting
I don't know how it got so bad
His ragged breathing clouded the air as he wrenched the ANBU mask off of his face. He backed up against the wall and slowly slid down. His body was shaking violently as fever bright eyes regarded the mass of mangle bodies that lay scattered across the floor.
He was out of control.
The blood had begun to dry on the kunai he grasped in his fist. A strangled moan escaped his lips echoing through the empty room. Kakashi could not count the lives he had extinguished in the past few days. And it was getting worse.
His arm trembled as he raised the kunai to his heart, pressing the tip into his pulsing chest until a single line of blood trickled down. It would be so easy to end it all...
"Hatake!"
The shout came from the exterior of the building. Recognizing the voice as that of his captain, he dropped his arm, standing up shakily and pulling his mask back into place.
Sometimes it's so crazy
But nothing can save me
But it's the only thing that I have
Downing drink after drink he slowly let go of his past. His future. The only things that mattered now were the shot in his hand and the fact that the next one was nearby.
The alcohol slid down his throat, numbing his body. Numbing his mind.
The mask fell soon after. It always would, when he was far enough gone. The shock of the occupants of the bar had long since worn off, and in his intoxicated state he wouldn't have cared either way.
It was just so easy this way. So easy to drink and drink until no coherent thought could be produced. No sorrows could be remembered. No memories could overwhelm.
He had lost his mind too many times to count.
If you believe it's in my soul
I'd say all the words that I know
"I love you."
The words tumbled from his lips. He regretted them immediately. It was only going to make this harder.
But he had to tell her.
Pink hair matted to her face, she looked up at him with fading eyes. The corners of her lips curved upwards. A sparkle fleetingly returned to the emerald orbs.
"I know."
Then she collapsed. The internal injuries proved to be too much for even her to heal.
He caught her and held her. His tears dripped onto the crown of her head as she trembled violently in his arms.
She stilled. The light left her eyes.
His body shook with sobs.
Just to see if it would show
That I'm trying to let you know
That I'm better off on my own
The lunch invitations had stopped coming. A fact he was almost glad of.
Almost.
It was true he now never had to look at the blonde's war-hardened, but perpetually smiling face. But, aside from the faded picture that resided by his bedside, Naruto was the only connection to Team 7 he had left. He was the only one who even had an inkling of what Kakashi was going through.
Both Sasuke and Sakura were gone. Naruto had been slowly slipping out of his grasp. Now, it was as if he had severed his last tie.
And it was better that way.
I tried to be perfect
It just wasn't worth it
Nothing could ever be so wrong
He was sick of being the famed Copy Nin. Of being a legend. He didn't deserve the awe, the respect.
The Sharingan did not truly belong to him.
His genius was hereditary. In his blood.
In his mind, he was a fake. A failure.
He had promised himself that with Team 7 he would get it right. But he had failed Sasuke; leading him in the wrong direction, doing nothing to quench his thirst for power. He had failed Sakura; neglecting her, leaving her to grow strong with the help of another.
He had failed to protect them with his life. He had failed to keep his promise.
He was sick of the praise. Sick of the honour. Sick of being perfect.
It's hard to believe me
It never gets easy
I guess I knew that all along
It never became any easier.
If anything, each day he stood at the memorial was more difficult than the last. Especially now that the number of his teammates, his comrades, his friends whose names were etched into the stone increased with each passing year.
But he had come to suppose that this was the price of being a shinobi.
If you believe it's in my soul
I'd say all the words that I know
The memories, both the good and the bad, consumed. Thoughts and feelings whirled around his mind. Nothing he said or did could rid his mind of the echoes of long forgotten recollections.
So he embraced them.
Just to see if it would show
That I'm trying to let you know
The loneliness was overwhelming.
It always had been. And he supposed it always would be.
That I'm better off on my own.
But living life was something he had to do.
Even if it meant being alone.
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