Title: Gun Shy
Words: 680
Character(s): Rin, Kakashi, oblique mentions of Minato (Yondiame) and Obito
Pairing(s): Kakashi/Rin
Summary: They have stolen Kakashi, and given her back a soldier.
A/n: Written a couple of years ago, just never got around to posting it. Please review? I need some feedback on all the weird stuff I write :) Inspired by and named after the 10,000 Maniacs song "Gun Shy."
She is pressed against the doorframe, the wooden panels leaving imprints on her back. His mouth is on her hers, her hands tangled in his hair, and her blood is ablaze inside her veins.
He kisses her deeply, and her world narrows to the wildfire racing across her skin, scorching her. She's on fire, burning, burning, burning–
Until he breaks away, holds her at arms length. His visible eye is wild, and his breath is haggard, but he maintains the distance between them.
"I'm leaving soon. A-rank mission."
It shouldn't surprise her now. It shouldn't, but it does, and she sucks in a shaky breath.
"For how long?"
"Don't know. As long as is required."
His gaze is cooling now, his breathing returning to normal. He doesn't seem like the man who just had her pressed against a door, who just kissed her senseless. They've stolen him so thoroughly it is hard to contemplate; she can no longer see the boy she once knew, who laughed at sensei's jokes and squabbled with his best friend.
Who loved her, once.
"When?"
He stays silent for a moment, his penetrating gaze focused everywhere but on her.
In a way, she is glad for the silence. This is the question that will kill her, send shards of glass through her when he answers. It is the question that kills her every time they go through these motions.
Kiss.
Talk.
Leave.
Repeat.
The silence stretches on, a yawning black hole that threatens to encompass her.
"When?" Her voice cracks this time.
"Tomorrow."
The syllables are sharp in his detached tone, tiny pinpricks of pain that push their way beneath her skin and into her chest.
Tomorrow. The word hurts.
She's long since stopped arguing with him. There's no point in telling him that he doesn't need to take the mission. No point in telling him that a few days rest, a few days peace won't kill him, won't make him a traitor to their memory.
Aren't I enough? Why can't I just be enough?
She wants to scream it at him, wants to force an answer out of him, and the words tear at her throat, but she remains silent. She doesn't ask, doesn't argue.
He's always been more stubborn by far. Nothing she can say will change him, pull him off this path of guilt and sorrow. Kakashi is a soldier now, hollowed out by regret and stained with the blood of those he failed to save. So she is quiet.
Instead of speak, when he can no longer hear her, she reaches out and strokes the scar running through his eye. He doesn't pull her hand away, but places his hand over hers. He has not heard her in a long time, but it seems that she can still touch him.
His palm is warm. She can feel the calluses, the scars on his skin, proof of life in a world of death. He's a survivor.
He's a survivor, and yet still he does not live.
Why can't I be enough, Kakashi? You said you'd die to protect me. Am I not worth living for?
Her fingers continue their trail, caressing the side of his face, the line of his jaw, and her lips move of their own accord. She's not as in control of her words as she thought she was.
"What a good little soldier they've made out of you."
And just like that, he's gone, and she's left with her hand holding nothing but air.
It shouldn't surprise her anymore, but really, it does.
She walks away from the door and collapses on her bed, still fully clothed. Her medic's pack is pressing uncomfortably into her hip, and she wants to cry, but she ran out of tears a long time ago.
She's a soldier, too.
She lies there until sleep comes, her head fuzzy and lips still bruised with his kisses.
"I don't mean to hurt you by saying this again, they're so good at making soldiers but not as good, not as good at making men."
Review, please?