I was going through one of my many collections looking for something or other when I
found this. The first time I snagged it, I hadn't come up with who I could use it for, but as
I read the lyrics again, it hit me-- Kakashi.
This fic just seems to fit the whole Kakashi and dead comrade (I'll be using the name
Obito, since I've seen it several times) thing, and being as secretive as Kakashi is, well... it
just seems to make sense.
So here it is. The song is called "My Old Friend" and is by Tim McGraw. (Newest CD, go
buy it. It's awesome. :two thumbs up:)
Enjoy.
SANITIZED: LYRICS HAVE BEEN REMOVED. THIS IS THE FFNET APPROVED, SANITARY, MADE-FOR-KIDDIES VERSION. TO VIEW THE ORIGINAL, GO TO MY SITE AND VENTURE UNDER "THE WORKS" AND THE APPROPRIATE SHOW.
MISSING WORDS
Kakashi smiled wryly as he sat the small, beat-up desk in his apartment. In front of him
laid a pad of paper and a pen, an old photograph in his hand. In it, two boys sat on the
railing of the bridge, one with his hands flung wide and eyes bright, describing something
with great enthusiasm to the other boy, who was watching intently, his true expression
hidden with a mask.
Yondaime had taken the picture of the two the summer before the Kyuubi's attack. It was
the only one Kakashi had of his best friend, and it summed up their friendship rather well.
Obito would talk, telling outrageous tales, or describing his latest prank, or just chatting
about anything and everything, and Kakashi would listen. Obito didn't mind his quietness
and Kakashi didn't mind Obito's vividness. They worked in some odd way, and Yondaime
often called them the two halves of the same personality.
The wry smile faded into a solemn expression. He missed Obito terribly. The Uchiha boy
was the first and only close friend he had ever had, the only other one to ever come almost
as close was Yondaime. He lost them at almost the same time, and the double impact of
their deaths changed him... permanently.
He sighed and set the picture down next to the paper. He looked at the white sheets
mournfully for a moment, then picked up the pen and began to write.
MISSING WORDS
The few who knew about his habit of writing letters to Obito (or on occasion Yondaime)
thought it was odd, but Kakashi honestly didn't care. Despite what they thought, they
respected it and never hassled or teased him about it. They all had their own ways of
dealing with pain, and this was his.
The first line was always the same-- 'I'm sorry.' No matter what he was told or had tried
to tell himself, he still took the blame for Obito's death heavily upon his shoulders. For the
longest time he hadn't been able to understand the urge his father had felt to protect his
comrades instead of completing the mission, but in those grim moments after Obito's body
had been crushed... he understood. Kneeling there, watching his friend die and feeling so
utterly helpless, it made everything click for him. There were things more important than
the rules or the mission, more important than anything else, and protecting your friends
and comrades was high on that list.
He took Obito's eye as a way to somehow make up for failing his friend like that. This
way, a part of Obito would still be around, even though he wasn't. It was kind of like the
way Zabuza destroyed Gatou's men, hoping to make up for the loss of Haku. The old
phrase about not knowing what you have until it's gone had more truth in it then most
could ever understand, and it was one he didn't until he lost those whom he had cared
about the most. Obito, Yondaime, even his father; all of them torn away at the times he
needed them the most.
Still, he had made it this far...
MISSING WORDS
After his father's suicide, everything became black and white for him. There was good and
bad, right and wrong, and nothing inbetween. It was by the book or nothing at all. Then,
after Obito's death and Yondaime's sacrifice, he realized that nothing was truly black and
white. For awhile he tried to ignore this revelation, becoming a member of Anbu for
several years, but in the end all the killing and destruction only made it that much more
true to him.
Tired from most of ninja life, he became a teacher-- the only option left for him. In a way,
it was his making up to Yondaime for being an idiot in his early days. What his sensei had
told him then hadn't sunk in until it was too late; hopefully now, though, he could get
through some kids' heads before it was too late for them. He failed every team that came
his way, until what would become the infamous Team 7 were given to him. He paused in
his writing and smiled at the irony of it-- an Uchiha, his sensei's son, and a smart and sassy
girl who, except for himself, was obviously the brains and common sense of the team.
He should've known.
MISSING WORDS
In his letters, he often related incidents of the team to Obito. He told him everything from
Naruto's ramen obsession, Sasuke's hellbent revenge, and Sakura's adoration of Sasuke
to his own odd feeling of a father trying steer his children onto the right path and only
getting mixed results at best. Truth was, he told himself, he was a pretty much useless
teacher. Trying to get Sakura to focus on anything besides Sasuke, getting the "live for
revenge" kick out of Sasuke, or trying to make Naruto do anything made him want to tear
his hair out.
Now he knew why Yondaime wanted to Rasengan his team into oblivion most days.
He liked teaching, though, and knew that if any team could do it, it would Team 7, and he
wrote Obito as much. 'I hope,' he wrote, 'that I'll manage to get the idea of teamwork
and camaraderie through their thick skulls. I don't want any of them to end up I did. No
one deserves that kind of pain.'
It was the truth, too. He had the chance to save his friend, even if it was only a slim one,
but he wasted it, and lost his best friend forever. Well, not forever-- he believed that there
would come a time when they would be reunited somewhere-- but in this life it felt like an
eternity.
Obito had been his common sense, his confidant, and the only person who had ever come
close to understanding the white-haired copycat. Not once had ever asked why Kakashi
wore his mask; he didn't need to. He just knew that it was the way he was and accepted it.
The feeling that acceptance gave him... well... very few things could compare to it. Obito
truly had been Kakashi's other personality-half, and when he lost him, he did lose a part of
himself, a part that he would never again regain... ever...
MISSING WORDS
He stopped for a moment to look at the picture, then finished the letter and placed it in an
envelope. He tucked it away in one of the many pockets his vest had and left his apartment
in the direction of the memorial.
The solemnity passed by him again as he crouched down in front of the stone that beared
the name of both his sensei and his best friend. Hatake Sakumo wasn't there for the way
he died, but deep down Kakashi knew his father's name did belong there. He gave it up
for his friends, and whether or not the village blamed him and condemned him to his fate,
he had done the right thing.
Too bad, Kakashi thought, that I wasn't there for you, Obito.
He took the letter out and murmured a small fire jutsu. The letter burned gently in his
hands and then vanished into ashes, the smoke traveling up to the heavens where he hoped
it reached his fallen friend. He paused another moment to look at the names upon the
stone, then decided he was late enough for his team. He stood and began to walk away,
but not without a backward glance.
See you tomorrow, old friend.
MISSING WORDS
A/N: Okay, anyone else saddened / depressed? I am... partly because this hits a little close
to home for me at the moment. (And I wrote it! What's wrong with me!)
Most of the information about Kakashi, Obito, and his dad I found out from the site
'Strawberry Boy'. Some of it I more or less made up, like Obito's being loud and a
prankster. (Just seemed to fit the opposite thing, you know?)
Well, ya'll know the drill. Review¿por favor?