Of Things You Can't Control

Chapter 9

Breaking point

Katsumi didn't know how she had finally escaped her sorrow. It was all a blur. She had somehow gotten to her feet, grabbed the sweater from the floor, pulled it over her head and had opened the door, the cold night air brushing against her legs.

Darkness greeted her. She wiped at her eyes and continued moving forward, the only way she knew. She had to. Just keep going. Like she always did. She walked past all the things she had gotten to know over the last month. The couch she had spent her days and nights on, reading, sitting, watching… She drew a deep breath and shook her head, leaving the kitchen on her right behind as well. For a second she saw herself standing there at the counter, looking up with a smile, next to… She swallowed hard and kept going until she reached the entrance.

Every step was so heavy. She was still fighting her decision, still silently hoping for the best. But deep down she knew it was over and she had to accept that because that was the only thing she could do now. Accept and move on. Without another glance, another thought, another doubt, her hand moved up and was on the door handle. And then she was outside, the door pulled shut behind her.

The fresh air dried her face, making her inhale deeply. The lights of the village were bright in the night, but there was no sound, no voices, no laughing. It must have been way past midnight, maybe even early dawn. There was no one around. She was all alone. Clenching her fists around the long sleeves of the sweater, she took a step forward, suddenly noticing something that kept her frozen in place.

And as if that wasn't enough, a deep, gruff male voice from the left stated her discovery.

"I think you forgot your shoes."

She turned around towards the unknown voice and blinked in confusion when she saw no one.

"I'm down here," the voice muttered and as she looked down, she couldn't believe her eyes.

There, next to the door to Kakashi's apartment sat a tiny brown dog, wearing a blue vest and a Konoha forehead protector on his little head. And he was talking to her. A talking dog. No way. She moved back a little, staring at the animal, absolute certain that she was imagining things.

"Hmm, cat got your tongue?" the dog said with a raspy laugh.

She shook her head, not at him, but at herself, trying to clear it from the vision in front of her. But the dog stayed, watching her with a lazy expression on his round face. She blinked again, before she let curiosity get the better of her. In a swift motion she crouched in front of the dog and extended a hand towards him, poking his chubby cheek carefully.

"You're real," she whispered. The dog's fur felt warm and soft beneath her touch.

"And you're rude."

"Eh?"

"You could have asked to pet me first, you know?"

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry!" she whispered and withdrew her hand, but the dog pulled his snout into a smile. She leaned back and watched him curiously. "What are you?" she mouthed, somewhat fascinated.

"My name is Pakkun, girlie, I'm one of Kakashi's ninken."

Her heart twitched painfully. She clenched her jaw and looked down for a second.

"And I'm here to tell you that you shouldn't leave without your shoes on."

Her gaze wandered back to the dog named Pakkun. She tilted her head. "Ninken, huh? Like ninja dogs?"

"Exactly. Never met one, eh?"

"No," she said and felt something warm snake through the cold within her. Her desire to learn, to become a ninja. Apart from anything that had happened, that desire had not changed.

"So were you off to somewhere or do you have some time to spare?" Pakkun asked.

"Time for what?" she replied, mildly confused.

"I could tell you something about us ninken, if you like."

She blinked. The warmth grew. A tiny smile crept onto her lips as she nodded, sitting down next to the small dog.

"And if you ask nicely, you can even touch my paw," Pakkun said and raised one of his front paws whose pads were bright pink and very soft looking. She couldn't help but laugh a little.

He was just like them.

And indeed he had felt exactly like those drunken bastards. Driven by hunger and lust, intoxicated and out of control, ridden by the most primal instincts. Manipulated by the urge, the desire to have her, touch her, feel her. Own her.

It had felt wrong the moment he had first broken through that barrier of his morals. Ignoring his doubts and common sense, first telling himself it was only for his mission. He had to protect her, keep her safe and close. And it had all worked out somehow, he didn't even put much work into it. Manipulating her had been the easier part, maintaining the bond he had created between them not so much. And it had gotten to his head. She had gotten to his head.

And the worst part about that: he let her.

He let her in, flattered to have someone close, someone so selfless, so caring, so eager to be with him. But he had used her. Right from the beginning. Not only did she do her share of cleaning and maintaining the housework, she also kept him company – and it had been a long time since he had let someone do that. And it had felt so good, unknown and a little strange at first, but her affection had grown on him. He had appreciated her warm welcome every time he had come home and the smiles she had thrown him, even the constant blushing had started to amuse and delight him.

She had become more and more important to him – as a person, not just as his mission.

To the point that she would distract him from things he usually had no problem multitasking. Ever since he had let her in, she had caused something to fester inside him. The urge to be even closer to her. The urge to feel her, just for himself.

He had reached that point and went even beyond, completely out of control. And in the end it had been too much for her. He still didn't know what exactly had happened, but what he knew was that she had pushed him away, or her Kekkei Genkai had, shielding her from the monster he had become, guarding her from one of those hungry, instinct-ridden bastards.

He was just like them.

Consumed by the hatred against himself he had only seen one way out: leave. Leave before it was too late. Though there was one part of him that had been protesting. He couldn't leave her like that. She would be all alone with all those conflicting emotions she had learned and experienced over the last month. He should stay and explain and talk to her… But in that moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the reddened skin of his palms, he had known that he shouldn't stay. He couldn't be trusted anymore.

He didn't trust himself anymore.

And so he had left the room, without a word, without another look back at the girl on his bed. It had crushed his heart. He had walked to the bathroom, closed the door and then his fist had smashed the mirror the second he looked at himself. He couldn't bear to see himself right now. Panting and concentrating on the blood rushing through the cuts on his knuckles, he had calmed down eventually, leaning on his arms, his hands clenched around the sink.

It had taken him several moments before his heart was beating normal again. More or less normal. The hatred was still roaring inside him, reminding him of all the things he had done wrong. There were enough to keep him busy for quite a while.

Somehow in between hating himself and worrying about Katsumi he had ended up in the shower, grateful for the fact that she had taken up the last drop of hot water, leaving him standing under the ice cold stream, regaining his old composure with every passing second. After he was done, he felt much better. Much more sorted. Though he still didn't have any idea how he could fix what he had broken in the first place.

Was she still there, in his bed? He doubted it.

He had tried to imagine how he could have handled the situation differently, but no matter what he thought about, he knew, deep down, he couldn't have changed anything. He hadn't been himself in that moment. He had had no control. Still thinking, he dried himself and slipped back into his pants, before his gaze wandered to the broken mirror, its shards shattered on the bathroom floor. He had to replace that eventually. It was beyond repair.

And against all odds, he hoped that the bond between him and Katsumi was not.

When he left the bathroom, he already knew that he was out of luck. His bedroom door was open, the streetlamps from outside casting their warm light through the window and over the threshold. He didn't have to look around. She was gone.

He slowly walked into his bedroom. The bed was empty. The only thing reminding him of what had happened was her shirt, carelessly tossed around the room, hanging from the back of the chair in front of his desk. The sweater that he had removed earlier was nowhere to be seen. She must have left with it. Wearing it. He clenched his jaw at the thought, while the restrained urge in the back of his mind gave a low grumble. He inhaled deeply and grabbed another sweater from his closet, before he exited the room.

There, in the silence of his apartment, he heard it. Voices. Outside. Something warm flooded his insides. He walked to the entrance and, when bending down to put on his sandals, noticed that she had left her shoes behind. When he proceeded to open the door, the voices grew louder.

"…we are eight, you know? And if I daresay so, I am of course the leader of the pack because height isn't everything!"

"Of course," he heard Katsumi's soft voice.

He stepped outside. She was sitting with her back against the wall, Pakkun lying belly up on her outstretched legs, enjoying a thorough ear scratch. Kakashi watched them for only a few seconds before the dog turned his head towards him.

"Oi, Kakashi! I hope you didn't hear that," the pug laughed nervously.

He ignored the dog and focused on Katsumi, who stiffened visibly, keeping her head down, avoiding eye contact altogether, though he noticed a tiny blush on her cheek. For a moment he didn't know what to do, how to approach her, how to fix anything.

It was his ninken who jumped (literally) into action. He leapt off Katsumi's lap, raised a paw and saluted Kakashi. "I guess my services are no longer required, then. Good night, Katsumi-chan."

"Good night, Pakkun," she replied quietly.

Then the dog disappeared with a plop and silence dropped between them.

"You…" she began with a quivering voice, kneading her fingers nervously in her lap. "You told your ninken to watch over me when you were gone," she stated.

He stepped a little closer and crouched down beside her, still keeping his distance. "I did."

"Why?"

"I swore to protect you," he said in a low voice.

At that she turned her head to him, surprise and confusion on her slightly reddened face. She was about to ask more, he could tell, but he interrupted her by holding out his hand to her.

"Come inside. Please," he said and watched her closely.

Her gaze wandered from his hand up to his face and back. She hesitated a moment too long, causing him to lower his hand eventually. He closed his eye.

"Katsumi," he whispered, at a loss for words. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you…"

Suddenly her hands closed around his. He looked up in surprise. She stared at him with watering eyes. His heart sank.

"No! I… I am sorry!" she squeaked in between two shrill sobs. "Look at your hands!" she said and turned his hand palm up, careful not to touch the blisters he had already forgotten about. "I did that!" She shook her head as more tears streamed down her face. "I did… that…"

"But I made you…" he replied quietly, staring at her slender fingers holding his calloused hand.

"You're wrong," she said, almost inaudible. He looked up slowly. Her green eyes, glistening with tears, observed him with a level of seriousness he had never seen on her. "It all happened because I can't control this… thing…" she explained, placing one of her hands on her chest, right above her heart. Her fingers clenched around the front of the sweater. "And I need to learn how to. So this… will never happen again!"

He watched her for a moment, unable to respond. She was taking all the blame when she really shouldn't. It wasn't her fault. She was a teenager, for crying out loud. There wasn't anything she should be able to control at that age. Speaking like the responsible adult that you are not… He inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the nagging voice inside his head.

"Kakashi," she whispered, causing him to blink and focus on her again. "Please forgive me."

He swallowed at that, pulling his eyebrows together, suddenly finding it hard to use his voice properly. "There… there is nothing to be forgiven, Katsumi. It wasn't your fault."

She closed her fingers tighter around his hand. "And it wasn't yours either!"

They locked eyes for a moment, before he raised his hand, slowly bringing it close to her face, watching her cautiously. She gave the tiniest nod and leaned closer, moving her cheek against his palm. Her face was warm and wet from all the crying, soothing against his damaged skin.

"Let's go inside," he whispered.

"Okay," she replied.

But it took them another minute or so to finally move. Her fingers closed around his as they both entered his apartment. And even though it felt good to have her back, have her safe, without a grudge, he had a sinking feeling about it. Something had changed. He knew that. And there wasn't much he could do – other than be honest with her. She deserved as much. She wanted to learn, so why not start with the truth?

Something had changed. For better or worse, she did not yet know.

She was still too numb to fully realize that she was back inside his apartment, holding his hand as he led her to the living room. He had invited her back in. After she had pushed him away – and it didn't matter that she had not wanted to do that. She had done it, she had hurt him and yet she had the feeling that it was him who blamed himself for everything. There was an unknown darkness around him she had not noticed before.

Much like she had ignored her own darkness. That side of her that was afraid to be alone, afraid to fall apart, to be in pain. She knew now that this darkness was still inside of her. Yet she also knew that she didn't want to witness it ever again. And if Kakashi's darkness was in any way like hers, she didn't want him to feel it either.

But the thought of being able to unintentionally hurt him, physically, whenever she wasn't able to control herself, scared her enough to erect a wall that she had to break down first. The doubts were there, but if she wanted to move on and beyond that, she had to fight those as well. So much to do, all because of one tiny moment that had changed everything.

She sighed loudly, realizing that she had stopped moving. Her feet were inches away from the couch. Blinking in confusion, having been caught in her thoughts for way too long, she forced herself to focus. Her gaze wandered from the couch to her outstretched arm whose hand was still holding Kakashi's – even though they were standing a few feet away from each other. She in front of the couch, he in front of the open bedroom door.

He had not let go and neither had she.

She couldn't find the words to acknowledge the somewhat awkward situation, but when she looked at him, she knew it wasn't necessary. The firm grip of his hand was enough. And so she stretched out her free hand, grabbed the blanket from the couch and pulled herself towards him, tightening her fingers around his. Once she stood in front of him, looking up at the tall man (man, was he tall), neither of them said anything.

He watched her, his face tired but otherwise expressionless, his left eye closed, his entire body at ease. She knew he wouldn't move, she just knew it. He wouldn't do the first step, afraid of repeating past mistakes. So it was up to her. She was just as afraid, of losing control, of hurting him again, of destroying what was left between them. But she knew, if she gave into those fears, she would end up all alone – and that was something she never wanted to experience ever again.

She squeezed his hand a little, then moved past him into the room, pulling him along with her. When he followed her, her heart made a tiny spin. As she walked around the side of his bed, reluctantly letting go of his hand, he stopped in the middle of the room, watching her, still a little hesitant. She lay down first, draping the blanket around her, letting him enough space to join her. If only he would do that.

"It's okay," she whispered, moving to the far left side of the bed until she felt the wall behind her. It was then that he finally moved. Slow, indecisive steps, until his hand reached down to touch the sheets. She waited, watching him closely. He avoided looking at her. Another moment ticked past, before he sat down. She could see his fingers clenching around the edge of the bed. Swallowing hard, she fought the urge to grab the back of his sweater and pull him towards her. Slowly now.

When he finally lay down, he came to a halt on his back, staring up, his profile set, unmoved like one of the stone faces of the Hokage rock looming over the village of Konoha.

She snuggled into the blanket, trying to breathe against the cold clawing at her heart. He felt so distant. He had invited her back in, but both of them couldn't pretend that nothing had happened. A lot had happened. One tiny moment… She closed her eyes.

It was then that she felt his fingers moving over the sheets, towards her. Her eyes flew open and her hand, tucked under the pillow, began moving on its own until their fingertips met. A small touch compared to what they had already experienced with one another. Yet this small gesture was enough to show her that it wasn't over. Something was broken, but when his hand closed around hers, she knew that she would do anything to fix it.

She had to.

A/N:

Disclaimer:
Kakashi and all his darkness belongs to Kishimoto Masashi. Katsumi is mine.

Next: Fixing stuff. Is it even possible at this point? See for yourself!

Thank you for your time!