A/N: I lost my kitten. I'm angsting. My fans benefit. Ironic. Inspired by the Sugarland song "Joey" from "Love on the Inside". It's a brilliant song, I recommend it. Also, same universe as Touch. Read that first.
I've gotten in to a habit of slightly more artistic one-shots lately. You guys should tell me whether or not you like it better.
034. Not Enough
All the sound in the world had frozen in place. Even the raindrops breaking against his window were muffled by the too loud silence.
She put the mug on the table, a lifeless thud of porcelain on wood, before moving to stand beside him. "You should drink something."
"You took away my drinks." He didn't look at her, but continued to stare out into the mist that had muted all the colors in the world.
"I have hot chocolate. You can drink that. But no more alcohol. Not today." She brushed the hair back from her face, collapsing bonelessly into the chair beside him. "This is too much, you know. You're scaring people."
Too much. "What do they expect me to do?" He raised one long finger, drawing idle spirals in the mist his breath created against the window. "What's the right way to act, Anko? Pretend it didn't happen? Get over it? It hasn't been long enough. It's not a picnic destroyed by bad weather."
Anko followed his gaze out to the drizzling rain, frowning slightly. She was muffled too. "I don't think it's quit raining since he got back."
"That's too poetic." A ghost smile, there and gone. "It always rains this time of year. We just usually don't appreciate it. We don't appreciate enough."
Raindrops shattering against the window punctuated each silent sentence between them.
I didn't appreciate enough all that he does.
I never thought this could happen to him. He was too good for something like this to happen.
If I had tried harder to keep him here, would this have happened? If I'd pushed him harder, would he have been able to dodge in time? If I'd said more how much I cared would he have tried harder to come back safe? If I'd pushed harder, if we'd broken up, would it hurt this much? If I'd backed off, didn't love him so much, would it still hurt so much? If I'd gone with him, if I'd tried, if I'd shown interest, if I'd given him pointers, would it have been different?
If, the mantra of the dying drops. If, if, if, if, if, if, if, if, if…
"Kakashi," Anko started, and then stopped. She worried her bottom lip a little, averting her eyes to the cooling cup on the table. "I don't know what could have been different. It doesn't matter anyway. You can't change it."
"No," his voice was eerily lifeless, even for him. Dead as his insides. "But you wonder. You always wonder. Because it's easier to blame something, isn't it? Pretend we could have had control."
She didn't nod. She didn't need to. "Sandaime always used to tell me that there were things I could change and things I could not, and I would be truly wise when I knew and accepted the difference. I hated to hear it."
A laugh forced itself out as he exhaled. He wasn't sure what it was mocking; Anko, himself, or the world at large.
Anko stood and trudged over to the mug. She took a sip, seeming to accept that he wouldn't have any. "You're not helping him, sitting here in the dark. He's scared enough anyway."
"I know." And he did. Those eyes, staring at him, lifeless and so far gone out of his reach, as Tsunade explained what had happened were always floating, wraithlike, behind his eyelids. What had Iruka thought when he'd realized what it meant? Had he felt like Kakashi did now, like he was being told about someone else's life instead of his own?
Shouldn't he be feeling more than this? It should be devastating, but it wasn't. It was fact, just like those raindrops.
The mug was placed by his hand on the windowsill. "I don't know what you think you're doing."
Neither do I. "Pretending to be wise, I think. I can't do anything about any of this." All the power in the world, and it was not enough. Who's power? It didn't matter. Nobody had power in the face of death. His mother and father had not. Obito had not. A-ranked missing ninja, genin out of their depth, the lowliest citizen all had to bow to its call. Rin, Yondaime, Sandaime, Asuma, and Jiraiya had all fallen because they did not have power. Tsunade did not; the Copy-nin did not.
One lowly chuunin teacher on an ill-fated mission did not.
"I think it's time for you to stop sulking about it, then." Anko put her hands in the pockets of her coat, holding it a little closer to her body. A shield. "You're going to have to face it sooner or later."
He was facing it, he just couldn't seem to see it. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe it was actually in another direction. "I don't think I can be what he needs me to be. I don't think I can be strong enough for both of us."
Iruka had always been the strong one before. He'd felt, laughed, loved, been enough for both of them. Now he was dying, and Kakashi found that everything about him that he'd thought was strong could not measure up. He was a coward, a weak man hiding behind an illusion of being untouchable. Never had he felt so small, so cold.
Never, the rain changed its song. Never, never, never, never.
"You're going to have to be." She moved toward the door, leaving the mug to fade into coldness by his hand. "You'll have to measure up or break. But you're not the breaking kind, Kakashi. You'll find a way to get through this, help him through this."
The door shut with a loud scrape of wood on wood before the tomb-like silence was restored.
Never, never, never, never, never.
