He'd never really given much thought to being a father—besides the thought that he was perpetually never ready for the responsibility that came with a child. That wasn't to say Kakashi was a man that ran from responsibilities, he took pride in seeing everything he did through; rather, it was the daunting task that came with having a baby.
Raising it.
Keeping it alive.
There was no doubt in his mind that, once a baby was in the works, he'd see everything crystal clear and pull himself up by the bootstraps to be a better man—a better father. However, because he never gave much thought to being a father—it wasn't in his scope of reality, at the moment. Even in his early thirties, he felt like he still had plenty of time to have a kid. As it went with everything, he didn't feel rushed; he never lived according to someone else's agenda, or what the "social norm" was. He lived life the way he wanted, and right now, he wanted to enjoy life with a new partner—this new season he was in.
And yet, in the back of his mind he knew, should something happen; he'd really have no trouble taking the responsibility. Nine months felt like a good enough time to gather everything they'd need, and he'd always sat on a healthy amount of cash—so it's not like he stressed over money. Nine months felt like nine months of falling in love with a little human, to the point that he'd be bursting from the seams when the day came for his own flesh and blood to be brought earthside. He'd embrace the life of a father, of having a piece of him to feed and take care of—in that time.
The problem now, was that he had no time.
Time was taken from him, everything a freight train barreling directly towards him; with no means to stop, with nowhere for him to go. In a manner of sixty minutes, Sakura had bled out before him and the words "miscarriage" and "pregnant" were thrown around. Five hours later, he'd got restless and begged Genma to sneak him into where ever Sakura could be. Twenty minutes later, she's laid out on a hospital bed; sobbing, heart wrenching and gut churning, as Guy held her tightly. Two minutes, and she's uttering the words, "the baby was a boy."
He had no time.
No time, as Genma and Guy helped to place him in the bed with Sakura.
No time, as he kissed her crying face and held her hand with his free one.
No time, as she caved into him, the tremors of her crying wracking his own frame.
There was no time.
No time to look at ultrasounds of a growing baby, to share the news with friends.
No time to mull over names, gazing at new born booties that matched the theme of the nursery.
No time to run a hand over her swollen stomach, to imagine what kind of child his son would be; the man he'd grow into.
Time had left them.
Ran past them, knocked them to the side, and took it away from them.
He couldn't imagine when the day came, when her water would break and they'd speed to the hospital.
He couldn't imagine the feel of her own sweating hand in his, her brow knit in fierce concentration while he praised her for her efforts.
He couldn't fathom the first cry; sharp, their own little cherub come to pierce their hearts.
He couldn't fathom the feel of him; both small and heavy, chubby cheeks, a delicate hand resting just in the middle of his own.
It was gone.
Just as quick as it was there, an inkling of an idea glimmering in the skies of his realm; it was snuffed out.
All that was left was the absence.
The dark.
That spot that, while before never seemed empty, was glaring with how bare it appeared.
All that remained was the breaking.
Shattering, a rip and tear that he could barely understand. Kakashi couldn't tell if he hurt because Sakura hurt, or if he hurt with Sakura. Did his heartache run as deep as hers did? Was the baby ripped from her womb also ripped from his heart?
Why did it hurt so much, if it was so new?
He had no time.
There had been no preparation, let alone the thought...yet...he hurt.
He hurt so much, the rise of the emotion was so rapid that he couldn't seem to control how he responded. His hand squeezed that of Sakura's own, his busted lip kissed her temple repeatedly, to the point that he was positive by the sting of his own salty tears it had opened again. Kakashi could feel it, that losing feeling of something so dear; the trauma Sakura had just been through, the pain and the blood...
The look on her face, the pure ache, insipid jade depths bearing into his own; the harsh rasp of her voice, the tremor in her tone...
The baby was a boy.
He felt it, too.
Deep within him, a massive log of emotion lodged tight in his throat; a hand gripping his gut and tugging so hard that...
He felt it, too.
He felt his own mouth tremor, the hitch of breath in his aching lungs; the burn in his features as he buried his face into Sakura's hair. It was a big, billowing feeling; growing and expanding within him, past what he could hold—and exploding.
He sobbed.
He sobbed for her pain, he sobbed for her suffering, he sobbed for her wound.
He sobbed at the idea, at the scene suddenly played out before him; an experience robbed from the both of them.
He sobbed at the detriment; the new life growing within her, the beating heart that would forever be stilled.
He sobbed.
He sobbed, because, he could feel it, too.