A/N: I know, I know, it's been forever. I've been struggling with my anxiety. But I think I'll be okay now, and on the bright side, I finished writing this out. It capped off at 92 ½ handwritten pages, so never fear, this will be going on forever. All I have to do is find time to type it up. BTW, headcanon that after the war, Kakashi and Sasuke learned a bit of medical jutsu just in case. So here's Chapter 3!
TW: Attempted suicide. Stay safe, my lovelies!
Chapter 3: Guilt
Guilt: n) feelings of culpability especially for imagined offenses or from a sense of inadequacy
Tsunade sighed, pulling her hair back and straightening her gloves. She was supposed to be retired. However, Kakashi's message, typically sloppy and brief, had been almost illegible, ink dripped on the sides as though he'd been shaking. Most chillingly, one corner of the missive was stiff and sticky with half-dry blood.
Hospital. OR. Urgent. Keep it need-to-know.
Kakashi
She entered the operating theatre, brushing past the guard at the door, professionalism and annoyance clear in each aspect of her appearance. She came around the curtain and froze, eyes travelling over the prone, restrained, shivering form on the bed. It couldn't be…
"Naruto?" She whispered. Her gaze snapped up to meet Kakashi's, taking in the pain, the helplessness and the fear there. Her eyes then took in the blond young man's appearance. He was unhealthily thin, skin pale with a concerning grayish tint and dark circles around his eyes. His half-arm was wrapped in heavy bandages and his complete arm was coated with congealed, flaking blood. His face was contorted and his motions restless. Tsunade quickly realized that the reason he was strapped down was because he had done this damage to himself and was still trying to do it.
"What happened?" She asked, proud that she was able to keep her voice calm. At the same time, she stepped up and began unwrapping the bandages around his stump.
"Sakura sent me a message, asking for retrieval due to illness. It seems that Sasuke noticed some behavioral changes that concerned him enough that he played sick until I got there. I agreed that I would look into it, but it was late, so I stopped at the safe house." Kakashi's voice was dull and business-like, and his hands ran through Naruto's hair listlessly.
"What kind of behavioral changes?" Tsunade had to ask, although she could guess.
"Apathy, fatigue, lack of appetite, avoidance of contact both physical and social, clumsiness, decreased emotional response, increased nostalgia, increased anxiety, talking to himself in the bathroom." Tsunade frowned.
"Go on." Kakashi quickly related the rest of the story, hands never still, voice low as he tried to maintain control. When he got to the part where he dug through the rock pile to get at his student, he lost his fragile hold on calm. Tears dripped down his face and his tone was shaky and pained.
"He was just laying there, face blank, nails digging into his arm. I tried to rouse him, but it was like he wasn't in there anymore. He was crying, completely silent." He trailed off, swallowing hard. "There was blood everywhere." He whispered.
Tsunade knew Kakashi wasn't a squeamish, weak or easily shaken man by any means. But as her own hands trembled while they smeared ointment over the deep, jagged lacerations, she knew it wasn't the wounds themselves. It was the way they'd been inflicted and the victim that had both her and this hardened ninja so shaken.
"He'll be alright." She said, trying to sound firm and confident. "He'll bounce back. He just needs some rest and care." The silver haired ninja nodded, flicking the remains of tears from his cheeks.
"Of course he will." Tsunade quickly bandaged the wounds, infinitely glad that Naruto seemed to have fallen asleep. She carefully unstrapped his limbs, consulting a passing nurse about which rooms were open. She then followed Kakashi as he carried the limp form to a cozy, warm, softly colored room. They got Naruto settled, then pulled up a chair to the bedside. Kakashi went to sit in it, but Tsunade pulled him back.
"You're the Hokage. You need to get some rest so you can attend to your duties tomorrow. I'll keep an eye on him." She could see the internal struggle as he flicked his eyes to the bed and back to her.
"You're right." He said, turning to go. "Keep me updated." There was an implied threat in his tone.
"I will." She promised, and he left.
Naruto's dreams were not pleasant, but upon awakening, he couldn't remember what had happened in them. He opened his eyes slowly, confused when the room that greeted him wasn't his. He glanced around, spotting a dozing figure next to his bed.
"Granny Tsunade?" He croaked, surprised at the weakness of his own voice. Even so, it seemed enough to wake her. She looked down at him, studying his face, then slowly raised the bed until he was half-upright.
"You're in the hospital." She explained. "What do you remember?" He frowned.
"We got a mission." She nodded, encouraging him. "We stopped to eat. Sasuke got sick. Sakura said it was the water. Kakashi-sensei came with medicine. He said there was Hokage business to take care of." He stopped, confusion written on his features.
Absently,he reached up to scratch his head, wincing as his head throbbed in response. As he dropped his hand again, a crusting of dry blood under his fingernails caught his attention. Okay, now he was really confused.
"Do you remember what happened?" Tsunade asked again. Naruto's brow furrowed.
"Were Kakashi-sensei and I attacked?" He asked. Tsunade looked troubled, leaning forward to study his face. Naruto felt a muted stirring of panic in his gut.
"Why are you lookin' at me like that?" He croaked, feeling exposed, vulnerable, ashamed, frightened. He gripped the upper portion of his amputated arm in an attempt to shield himself from her gaze. He felt a faint sting, but ignored it.
"Doesn't that hurt?" She asked quietly, eyes flitting to his arm momentarily before returning to his face.
"Not really. Should it?" He returned, wanting to look and see what 'that' specifically referred to, but not daring to look away from her. A moment of rational clarity seized him and he wondered briefly what he was so afraid of. Then his terror stifled it, only to be followed quickly by despair.
She's healing and good. I'm destructive and evil. If she attacks, I should let her kill me. He slumped, eyelids fluttering as fatigue washed over him.
"Naruto?" Tsunade said, concern in her tone. He caught her eye, smiling faintly.
"I'm fine. Don't worry."
"No, you're not." He cut in and Naruto froze, still smiling that false smile.
"I'm fine." He repeated, sounding confused and unsteady. His hand was squeezing his injury, and she could see blood beginning to seep through the bandaging. She gripped his wrist, pulling his hand off slowly, feeling his pulse speed up as he saw the fresh blood gleaming on his palm. His breathing turned shallow and harsh, skin paling further, shudders wracking his thin frame.
"Naruto?" She tried to get his attention; she tried to get him to speak. He was somewhere else, barely holding on to any part of this reality. He shot upright, shaking hard.
"Did I do this?" He whispered, eyes fixed almost obsessively on the gore. "Did I?"
"Yes, Naruto. You hurt yourself." She answered simply, knowing the question was rhetorical but realizing he needed to hear the words confirmed aloud. He turned to her, blue eyes swallowing her, not with horror or pain or depression, but with draining emptiness. He may as well have been dead, looking at those eyes. He stilled.
"Oh." He murmured, tone flat and lifeless. "That's okay then." He flopped backward, body going limp, leaving his listless hand in Tsunade's grip. The former Hokage's heart ached as she saw him giving up, dropping out of the fight. She took a moment to bring herself under control, focusing only on cleaning off all the blood.
"It's not okay." She choked out, twining her fingers with his limp ones and squeezing his hand until he looked at her. "It's not okay because you're an important person to me. And not just to me. So many people care about you."
"They shouldn't." He whispered weakly. "I'm a killer, a danger. I'm not worth it." He turned his head away. "Leave. I don't want you here." He pulled his hand from hers.
"Naruto…" She protested.
"Please go away." He interrupted, quiet and desperate.
"Fine, but only for an hour or so. Try to sleep. I'll bring you food. What do you want?" He wouldn't answer, and she eventually left him alone. He waited, breathing slowly until he was sure she wouldn't be back immediately. Sucking in a shaky breath, he forced himself back upright. He looked at the lit window, at the clean, cheery space, but saw no color. He glanced at the reflection that stared at him from the clean water on his table and saw only a black form with hollow, sunken sockets. Everything was bleak, empty, flat, ugly.
Except the blood on his palm. It glowed with rich color, glistened with texture, pulsed with life. It was the only beautiful thing he could see.
He knew it wasn't his blood he was seeing. No. It may have flown through his unworthy, filthy veins, but it belonged only to those that kept it there. His parents, Jiraiya-sennin, Asuma-sensei, Old Man Third, Granny Chiyo, Neji, Nagato, Itachi, Obito, Shikaku-san, Inoichi-san. Not only those who had died, but those who lost blood and lived on: Sasuke, Kakashi-sensei, Hinata, Shikamaru, Gaara, Killer Bee, on and on. That was why it was bright and warm. It wasn't his.
He stared at is, seeing in its opaque depths reflections of what should have been. His parents, alive and holding hands with two children who weren't him, running toward Jiraiya-sennin and the Third Hokage. He saw Asuma-sensei and Shikaku-san rubbing their heads over a shogi board while Shikamaru laughed. He saw Neji smiling, Tenten by his side. He saw Sasuke presenting Itachi to the village as a hero, smiling and with both arms intact. His birth, his lack of control, his stubborn need to keep living had ended all that.
He didn't deserve to live. He didn't deserve to breathe this air, to feel the sun, to speak with all these heroes and take the water and food and years that should go to them. Desperately, frantically, he dug his fingernails into his own neck, needing to still the pulse that beat beneath the skin. If he died, all the pain would end: Kakashi-sensei's, Sasuke's, Granny Tsunade's, Gaara's, Shikamaru's, Hinata's.
The warm trickle of blood was soothing, staining his bleak world with pure vitality. There was no pain, no fear, only relief as his guilt eased. He could feel the icy grip of hell closing over him, finally allowing him to pay for his sins. He smiled.
Then his skin closed, chakra filling him with thick, heavy life. He sobbed, begging to go back, to be ripped and released from the unbearable weight. He tried to tear himself open again, but his hand was restrained. He knew it was pointless. There was nothing to be done. Perhaps it was a more fitting punishment for him to die in slow, laborious agony, suffocating under the pressure of dozens of lives. He slumped, falling limp, begging under his breath for them to hurt him, to release it.
Instead, warm arms wrapped around him, cradling him against a firm chest, tucking his head under a trembling chin. Moist tears dripped into his hair like rain. The familiar smells of sweat and dogs and smoke and moist earth filled his nose.
"Sensei," He whispered. "Don't cry. Not for me. I'm not worth it." The arms tightened, chest heaving in a sob.
"No, my son. You are worth so much more. Please, don't scare me like that again. I could have lost you." There was no waver in the tone, no hint of joking. Sincerity filled it with an intensity that pierced Naruto. He gasped, shuddering, hyperventilating. It couldn't be true. He refused to drag Kakashi-sensei down with him.
"Let go." He gasped, yanking out of his sensei's arms with a wrench of pain. IT took every ounce of strength he had left to point to the door. "Get out!" He panted. Kakashi's hands gripped his shoulders. He nearly gave in, but an image of Kakashi bleeding in his arms gave him a surge of power.
He screamed, making his body the nucleus of a huge Rasengan. Kakashi was thrown out the open window, barely catching the edge of the roof before going over. He pulled himself up, slipping through the window into a now-empty room. He raced out the door, knowing Naruto couldn't have gotten far, knowing that if he didn't find him, the chakra drain would kill him. The Kyuubi had been holding him up for so long, Kakashi was sure the fox would have to recharge himself soon.
Hold on Naruto. He begged silently. I'm coming.
A/N: Whew! That was… very introverted. Sorry, not so much action. The next chapter is better, and has a whole bunch of Sasuke. Also, I kinda forgot that he tried to kill himself there. Luckily, going back and adding a trigger warning isn't that hard. My specific question for this chapter is, taking into effect the setting and subject matter, how is my characterization? Is Naruto too out there? Is Kakashi too open? Let me know! Love you guys!
