A/N: A strange little Kakashi story. He might possibly be going insane, or just remembering how painfully similar the past and present can be. However, i'd like to nod towards the latter...
One of my earlier works before I started reposting and it's certainly different from what I used to write...but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
Drifts
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"Where, oh where does time go?" Hatake, Kakashi, sings to himself when he is finally alone.
His team is broken again,
It's like a spiral, like a spiral, like that strange red eye that I borrowed.
But he was not sad, not delirious, not stricken with grief.
And he chuckles, because for him, number 7 used to be just a number.
Chewing on the grass makes Hatake, Kakashi spit, because it's not as clean as he thought it would be.
Not as clean as he wished it could be.
Like his hands that itch for Come, Come Paradise even though it isn't in his pockets anymore because Naruto probably managed to sneak away with it.
Hatake, Kakashi stares at the sun even though he knows it will hurt his eyes, and it's so bright it reminds him of someone's hair.
He smells the dirt and the dirt smells like him; it is spring, flowers are blooming, and he can't help but drown in its sickeningly sweet scent.
Blurry pink is all he sees when he opens his eyes again, because petals are that much bigger when you squint, because otherwise, he'd see red.
Because cherry blossoms just happened to flutter around his head
Because it's funny how his friends are always just six feet below him.
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End.