Kakashi awoke languidly, stretching his muscles beneath the green comforter. It was nice to wake up and feel relaxed, unlike the many times he'd faced the sun with a sudden alertness. The soft mattress was better than leaf-covered ground any day. He opened one eye to look at the other thing that was nice to wake up to. Iruka sat up in his bed (which he shared with Kakashi on more nights than he'd admit to in public), back against the headboard and a notebook in his lap. This habit had bothered Kakashi slightly at first, until after a week's observation where he noted Iruka almost always had some sort of work to do. He created lesson plans over breakfast, marked essays during lunch and ate supper in the mission room. While Iruka has fewer scars than most, no one could question his dedication to shinobi.
"What
are your plans for today?", Iruka asked softly once he noticed
Kakashi was awake.
The older ninja thought for a moment. He had
returned from a difficult mission yesterday afternoon. He was sore,
his uniforms all had blood, mud and sweat on them.
"Laundry."
Iruka
hummed in acknowledgment and continued writing. Without taking his
eyes off the paper, he tentatively broached a topic he was avoiding.
Iruka was no stranger to giving bad news, but when it was to someone
he cared for as much as Kakashi, it made the whole ordeal even
worse.
"I heard they're clearing out Sasuke's apartment
today." He cringed inwardly, saying the words as calmly as
possible but still sounding tense.
Kakashi said nothing. He had
known this day would come eventually. Sasuke's apartment was only a
rental; it did not belong to the Uchiha clan. The young man so full
of anger had understandably not wished to stay in his family's
estate. He had a large sum of money in his name somewhere, but as far
as Kakashi knew, hadn't touched it. The apartment was paid with the
money Sasuke made on assignments. Now that he was gone, clearly with
no intention of returning, the apartment needed to be emptied for
another of Konoha's many single ninja.
Kakashi sighed inwardly and rose from the warm bed. His bare feet padded softly on the floor as he walked to Iruka's closet. After a while together it had only made sense to keep a few of his things there. He wandered to the kitchen after getting dressed, wondering how he would break the news to Naruto. Sasuke's belongings would be placed in a box, his name and the date written on the side, and stored in a warehouse until a family member claimed them. It was the same process for any other ninja who didn't return. To Konoha, Sasuke was dead.
Kakashi spied an open box of pocky, so he took one and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. Strawberry. He didn't know if he ate them because Iruka bought them, or if Iruka bought them because he ate them. Maybe he could take the box, filled with black shirts and whatever else Sasuke had left behind, and give it to Naruto to keep.
Kakashi left in silence. Iruka was unperturbed by this, having grown accustomed to Kakashi's habit of solitary decision making and action. It wasn't as if he didn't know where the other man was going. Iruka sighed and wondered if Sasuke had realized how many people his decision would affect.
Standing on the last step of a narrow stairwell, Kakashi looked down the hall at Sasuke's apar - former apartment. The door was closed. Having watched the sombre ceremony before, Kakashi knew the door should have been left open, bare walls and newly cleaned floor standing as a testament that someone used to live there. He walked the hall carefully, wondering if those assigned to empty the room were still inside, hadn't started yet or had simply forgotten.
He paused, face merely an inch from the door. He heard nothing inside. As he placed his hand on the knob to enter, there was a sudden noise from within. A hard thump and simultaneous breaking of glass. Kakashi quickly pushed the door open. Naruto stood in the centre of the room, head down and shoulders shaking. Whether from the tears on his cheeks or his anger, Kakashi couldn't tell. He closed the door behind him, and picked up what remained of a perhaps treasured photograph. It was certainly a moment in time Kakashi treasured; the same image was above his bed. A box lay open on the floor. His gloved hand brushed the few pieces of broken glass away and placed it inside. It was now the only thing in the box.
"He will come back. Even if I have to beat him senseless, break every bone in his body, he will come back." Naruto looked at his once-sensei in defiance, daring him to say otherwise. Kakashi knew it would be pointless to try and make Naruto understand. This was his way of the ninja. To say Naruto wouldn't be able to bring him back was to invalidate his whole existence.
"Maybe you should take care of his things, until then?" At hearing this, Naruto collapsed. He fell on the bed with a weary exhalation of breath. He wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve, not the usual sunshine-bright antithesis of ninja stealth he normally wore, but a sombre grey shirt that reminded Kakashi of the Third's funeral.
For once, Kakashi was unsure of how to comfort Naruto. He sat next to him, not breaking the room's awful silence. He thought briefly of the bed they sat on, how many nights Sasuke had lain awake, unable to bring rest to his dark eyes.
"I'm sorry, Naruto. I couldn't stop him either."
