-1Ubazakura (PREVIOUSLY The Only Thing I Need to Hold Dear)
By: Kaki-kun

Ah, 'ello. :) Kaki here, TECHNICALLY this is my first fic. But screw technically man. Please understand that what I just said was utter bullshit. Probably what most of what I say is utter b/s anyways. ;)
I believe my plot has some major ideas of most Kakashi-Iruka fans, or thoughts on his past, mingled with my own ideals. yayness for me. :D # is listening to Kakashi's Theme while whistling # What? Get on with it already!

----NOTE:

I've changed the plot around a little bit so there's a much better chance of myself staying interested in updating. It now has much more influence of Itachi and Gai, and Iruka/Kakashi will be closer to each other than I could've possibly done in TOTINtHD. Very very sorry reviewers for taking so long to update!

Disclaimer: don't sue, 'coz my money isn't worth your time. of course for the rich bastards out there, I suppose any form of money is good for you leeches.
I dun own Naruto, k? Or else I would keep Kakashi to myself and sell Sasuke, Sakura, and the others on ebay. Except Gai, Itachi, and Naruto, 'coz they're not so bad either. : p

Key:
'...' Thoughts
"..." Speaking
... Stuffness

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Kakashi sat there on his bed sadly.

No one understood. They never would. That's the only reasonable explanation for his banishment.
Kakashi wheezed as his chest rose uncomfortably. Each small breath he took squeezed at his insides, he felt each muscle tear away from his lungs. He closed his eyes and focused on each raspy breath.
Focus.
After what seemed to be forever, Kakashi gave up concentrating on breathing. It woudn't help anyway. A cold sweat dripped down from his brow as he finally observed how hot it felt in the room.
He let his eyes wander around the room as if he were seeing it for the first time. The soft queen sized bed he sat on supported his weight fairly well. Two doors, one leading to the hallway and one leading to the master bathroom. The walls were a nice mixture of red and purple, blending very well with the redwood desk and chair in one corner of the room. Blending with the dreadful colors he's been so accustomed to all of his life. Blood. Organs.

The closet was located across the window- directly above the desk, which Kakashi now stared out thoughtfully.
He was veiwing his room for the first time, with these new pair of eyes that no longer had stability in them. He was going to struggle for the rest of his life, end of story.

Kakashi sat there on his bed sadly and alone.

'I have to leave...I'll die if I don't...' He swung his legs over the side of the large bed, gently letting his feet touch the ground. Kakashi stared at the dark crimson carpet for a moment, the horrid urge returning to him, pulsating his muscles as they flinched involuntarily. He swallowed hard to tame his lurching stomach and kept his eyes straight-forward instead of the ground. Kakashi slowly stood up perfectly, faltered, then almost near fell to his knees. Gripping the bed again to retain himself, Kakashi made it to his bedroom door at the speed of a sloth. He wanted to sprint out of the room, run as far and as fast as his feet would take him, probably would end him up on the other side of the all of the villages as one world but his intentions were the opposite of what his body was actually putting out for him, leaving frustration on top of his anger and struggle.

After opening the door, he made his way down the hallway at an even slower rate. He closed his eyes, not even wanting to see his surroundings anymore. Close everything off and just walk. Kakashi eventually found the door and locked it behind him. He turned to the darkening village and decided the best thing to do at this point was to walk around town, practice a little. People wandered about aimlessly having a good time, enjoying their sunday evening. Couples went into movie theaters and fancy restaurants, friends swinging about the place wreaklessly. A part of him continued to ache but, thankfully, he mysteriously could breathe again, just fine and well. He knew what the problem was, and the cure was something even Tsunade couldn't prescribe...

And not either Ibiki in that sense.

Kakashi sat on the stool at Ichiraku, beginning to grow weary from walking around the town. The night had come and began to pass, a cool wind swept by, stirring all of the leaves from their fallen position.

"Winter might come early this year..." He turned his head to the man behind the counter. "Are you going to order anything, sir?"

"Sure...I'll have miso ramen...," he muttered, not fazed in the least by the man.

'With that kind of wind, you bet winter's coming early...At least I'm used to cold...' Kakashi sat there and stared at the shining stars, quietly speckled across the horizon to the Hokage monument until his miso ramen was done. Turning back around to face the inside of Ichiraku. Few people were there, most were probably eating with their loved ones at home. He gently pulled down his face mask and separated his chopsticks. He tried to eat slower than usual, not really succeeding in finishing it under half a minute. Once finished quickly thereafter, he pulled his mask back up and left the money before returning to Konoha's streets.

Kakashi jammed his hands in his pockets while walking along. 'It's getting a little too brisk out here...shouldn't stay out here for much longer...' Kakashi sighed at the thought of going back home.

"You sure do sigh a lot..." Asuma's strong hand came down on Kakashi's shoulder with a friendly smile and trademark cigarette in his mouth. "...Something troubling ya'?"

"Eh...I'm just bored. Plus I really am not looking forward to winter..."

"Who does?"

"Gai...," Kakashi muttered. "He wants to impale me with snowballs until I become a living, breathing snowman..." Asuma chuckled while blowing a puff of his cigarette.

"Heh, he looks forward to everything. I bet he even looks forward to death..."

"Tell me who doesn't look forward to death and I'll really be surprised," Kakashi shrugged his hand off a bit ahead of Asuma as he grinned.

"Now that's sounds more like it."

"Of course." Asuma moved again up to Kakashi, watching him silently for a while as they quietly moved past people, a single movement not out of place and he frowned a little, keeping his eyes forward.

"When is your next mission?"

"Tomorrow."

"I see...Sure you're ready?"

"Enough." Asuma glanced at Kakashi out of the corner of his eye.

"So, what's the deal with your headband?" Kakashi's eye narrowed, searching for some dark reference and looking at his companion, puzzled. "I mean, why the hell aren't you wearing it?" He paused from his walk, acknowledging it's absence from his forehead and eye or anywhere else for that matter...

'What the fuck? when the hell did that happen?' He placed his hand over his forehead, pushing back some silver hair from his eyes.

"I have no idea. I…just realized it wasn't missing..." Asuma stare was filled with worry, but his chuckling turned into a rich laughter.

"Man, you really are out of it aren't you? It only blocks half of your vision!"

"Hope I didn't lose it...I'm going home before it gets any darker...and I have to find that damn thing before tomorrow..."

"Haha, alright I won't bug you anymore, take care Kakashi!" Asuma waved his hand slightly before heading off in the opposite direction, glancing his head over his shoulder at the other jounin and shaking his head. Kakashi groaned while thinking about his leaf headband. 'Shit...Hokage-sama will be furious if he found out I lost my headband...'

He made it back to the house and unlocked the door, stepping in quietly.
"I'm home..." He mentioned aloud to no one, glancing around at the contents of the residence.

'Damn this place. Damn everything.'

"I'll look for it in the morning..." He said more to no one again, knowing well there wouldn't be any response. After kicking off his sandals, Kakashi turned off the light in the living room.

He ignored the tears forming in his eye, Obito's eye, the Sharingan eye, and his eye as Kakashi's chest tightened by each weary second.
"Goodnight..."

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Yes, please read and review. Constructive criticism is appriciated, but flamers will be shunned till the day the sun doesn't rise over the mountain. Ideas are always appriciated.