Limits

A Kakashi Gaiden one-shot fic by Grummur


Sometimes, a man has to know his limits.

Nobody knew this better than Hatake Kakashi. Today, he was spending his evening atop the mountain upon which the Hero's shrine rested so sullenly, a grim reminder that ninja are but tools in the hands of unseen puppeteers. The Jounin had reached the conclusion long ago that, while this was most assuredly unfair, sometimes life was what it was, and had to be accepted.

As he slumped forward, eyes wandering vacantly over the stone, his thoughts returned to that much-scarred place where all those he had loved rested, and the fingertips of his consciousness graced the grooves upon his mind that marked the carved names therein.

The solemn white hound, whom he'd last seen stained such a terrible scarlet. In the end, though he'd fallen far, he still seemed so regal, alone there in the dim.

That blazing golden savior. The Cheshire cat that grinned always and forever, through cruel, torturous pain, and stark, desolate misery. He'd always looked for the silver lining…Kakashi sighed. He supposed there wasn't much of a lining at all for him now.

The gentle little dove. The soft, lilting melody to their dance of blood and tears. She too was gone now, and the grey haired young man suddenly felt so terribly old. Whose song could he flow with now?

That silly young Jester. Failure in trade, perhaps he was. Failure in spirit…failure in being he was not. That was Kakashi's role. The boy had given his all, and then more, and in the end he'd taught the son of the White Fang more than any book or scroll or honorable Sensei ever could. He'd taught the cold, complacent boy-turning-man that perhaps there was more to life than breathing, that perhaps the weight of the world and could be just that much lighter with someone to share your load.

As he pondered, Kakashi's mind wandered involuntarily to the events of the day prior. He'd had his nose buried in one of those silly books he drowned his pain in, as his team of young ninja—Little boys and girls that would one day grow and die and leave him alone—trained in the noonday sun. He'd looked up at the sound of laughter, and seen the three as a mass of tangled limbs and heaving chests and grinning faces. Even the dark boy seemed unable to repress his smile as the children remained clumped together, heaving, gasping as a light breeze ruffled hair and clothing.

He'd watched that breeze, seen it with the eye that saw everything. He'd watched it pass over them, watched as it took with it their light spirits, lifted them high and he couldn't stop it when he felt that silly grin spread across his features. Right now, right here, even if only for this moment, even if tomorrow they'd be dead and gone and he'd have three more names to add to that place of scars in his mind, Hatake Kakashi, for once in his long, arduous existence, was content.

He knew it was selfish, but he never wanted this moment to end. He never wanted them to grow, never wanted them to experience the wrenching emptiness he knew they'd feel when one bled to death in the other's arms. Never wanted them to lose that sweet, charming naiveté only a child, blissfully ignorant of the horrible reality of things could possess. For a split second, he understood why the Naras so adored watching the clouds.

Because in the end, all they could be, all they could strive for, all they could hope to become, was simply themselves.

Yondaime-sensei, the valiant savior.

Rin, the sweet melody.

Obito, the steadfast anchor.

It was quite certain, Kakashi was a man who knew his limits.


A fic I dedicate to Kakashi, my tied-for-bestest-with-Shikamaru favorite character. This is my tribute to Kakashi Gaiden, and I hope you all like it.

Review, if you would. It swells my ego.

Grum