Wild-filly: As promised, here is the second part of the double update (delayed only because I wanted to know what everyone thinks about song insertions). This is going to be the darkest chapter of anything that I have written to date. Please be warned, and kindly don't flame. It's rather depressing to have to write this as it is without being skewered with pitchforks at the same time.
My thanks go to dysmorphic delirium, chaosreaver, JapanAnimeGirl, Tora Macaw, hiddenwindmill, Andrea, YamiKitsuneKami and Hatake-Kakashi x3
Disclaimer: Don't own don't sue. I'm not good enough at law yet to defend myself for free. Wild-filly does not own Naruto, nor does she own Nickleback's "Because of You".
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Okumen Gokurakuchou: Chapter 26
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The aftermath of that wonderful weekend still hadn't disappeared entirely from Kakashi's mind. Every so often he would find himself zoning out, eyes glossing over as he remembered the events that had partaken. He almost marveled at their complete lack of modesty. It was amazing. He'd never forget it. Hopefully the other bathers in neighbouring pools might though.
He yawned, crouched on the mid-height branches of a thick pine tree. The Chakra camouflage poured over his shoulders was a merely a thin blanket to hide his presence from low-level ninja. It wouldn't stand up to high-level scrutiny, but at the moment, he wasn't too concerned.
Rain poured all about him, a cold and heady shower that obscured the scenery about him. Kakashi was hoping that it wouldn't interfere with the Sharingan too much. In the case of an attack, he didn't need his new, and possibly most powerful weapon to be annulled by mere raindrops. The woods were shaded, as though in the middle of a damp cloud, colours grey and muted. Silence prevailed all around, save for the incessant pattering of rain against leaf litter and pine needles. Cold droplets dripped onto his head at intervals from higher branches, heavy from accumulated moisture. He shook his head, hair flipping like a dog's shaggy coat. Ah well. At least it wasn't summer. Heat was more unpleasant than rain.
He afforded himself a glance about the other treetops. He could barely make out the outlines of the other ninja. There were five of them in total, including himself. All of them had spread out about this particular patch of forest, all of them watching the same stretch of boggy path. All of them waiting for the same target.
The Hokage had left a message for Kakashi at his apartment, for when he and Kurotaka returned, somewhat giddy and vaguely intoxicated from their weekend away. They finally discovered the note in amongst the pile of junk that had built up in Kakashi's mailbox since the last time he'd checked it several months ago. Its words sobered them both up right away. Kakashi was to go on a mission the next morning; a somewhat important one. It involved the interception of a newly-discovered spy. The spy was going to be heading towards the border, in order to transfer forbidden documents that included transcripts of the Hokage's discussions with the army generals. Kakashi, Masurao and three ANBU members were to lie in wait to ambush the spy, and if necessary, kill them. The Hokage mentioned that the spy may send a decoy ahead, or have an armed escort, so they were to be extremely cautious.
Kakashi tried to excuse himself ineffectively to Kurotaka, but she had waved him away impatiently. "Get over it Kakashi. It's our job. I've got to fill in some reports today anyway. I'll see you when you get back."
And that had been the end of that. Before the break of dawn, Kakashi had met up with Masurao and three members of the ANBU, anonymous behind their masks. He too had donned his ANBU gear, leaving Masurao looking rather left out. But the plain clothes Shinobi was there to serve a purpose; to move in as their decoy if necessary. The ANBU were noticeable enough as it was, but a plain clothes Shinobi with no visible weapons and specialising in Chakra rather than martial arts would not be so obvious.
So here they were; perched hidden in trees and getting wetter by the second. Kakashi's rainproof cloak was sodden and heavy, clinging about his shoulders in an unpleasant fashion. He hoped that the spy would show themselves soon, so that he could head home and remove the irritating garment. The chill was yet to penetrate his thin plating of white armor, but he didn't give it much more time.
A low whistle caught his attention. One of the ANBU further down the track had spotted something. Tensing, Kakashi braced himself against the coarse bark of his tree, eyes narrowed. Yes. He could sense them. The sound of soft shoes shuffling through the slush of the forest floor, turned to mud. He could hear the sucking of their feet, caught in the boggy terrain. That meant that he had an advantage in speed from the treetops. He crouched lower, breath tightening as he forced himself into a state of near silence. They would be in sight soon.
There. A flick of a cloak. One, two… seven people in total, walking in a line. All of them garbed in thick brown felt cloaks, unremarkable against the muggy colours and contours of the forest. He could feel no remarkable strength emitting from any of them, but perhaps they were shielding their potential. Their movements were slow and trudging. Could the spy be amongst them? This may only be a simple hunting party, but at this stage in the game, they could take no chances. If it was only a civilian group, then they should have known better than to move at this time, in this place. Although how they could possibly know that escaped Kakashi's logic.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a slight movement. Something in the trees! He spun, shuriken flying to his fingertips as something landed on a branch above him. Without even thinking, he hurled the razorlike projectiles up at the source. There was a series of rapid clinks as they were deflected. An answering barrage rained down upon him. Kakashi ducked and leapt off his branch, landing on one lower down and to the side, squinting up for his opponent. Another barrage of shuriken flew towards him. He sprang, surging upwards through the dense branches and landing above his opponent, a kunai tightly grasped in one hand.
There it was. Another ninja, hooded and cloaked in dark green. A forehead protector glinted up at him, but before he could see the symbol, the ninja was upon him, hurtling even more shuriken. Kakashi swapped a Kawarami to take the brunt of the attack, relocating himself above his aggressor and then diving down, seizing the figure in a headlock. Without a pause, he turned the kunai and sliced, cutting the Shinobi's windpipe. A gush of blood spurted from severed tendons, the other ninja's body stiffening and then sagging into Kakashi's arms. He gently draped the body on the branch, so that it wouldn't fall and make more noise than it already had. Turning back to the path, he saw that the procession had almost wound its way out of sight. Damn. The others must be caught up as well.
Springing down from the tree, Kakashi sprinted to the group. Time to engage the enemy; prepared or not. They didn't even hear his approach. The two men at the back fell swiftly, downed by a sharp blow to the back of their heads. At their brief grunts of pain and surprise, the other five turned in shock. Run! The cry set up between them and they scattered, flailing into the thicket. Kakashi cursed. He didn't even know which one he was supposed to follow. At that moment though, Masurao sprang to his side. He frowned. "Kakashi! You take those two, I'll get the others."
"Be careful," Kakashi warned. "They haven't demonstrated any powers, but we don't know what else might be lurking. Where are the others?"
"Probably still stuck with their assailants." There wasn't time for any more discussion. Masurao sprinted off between the trees, leaving Kakashi to follow suit. They were only normal people; they couldn't have gotten far. The other ANBU were capable enough to look after themselves and either way, he couldn't abandon the mission.
Wet branches slapped his face, rain splattering off his wooden mask. The trail was very fresh ahead of him, panicked and uncoordinated. He flitted like a ghost between the trees, eyes and ears intent on the surroundings. The Sharingan was spinning, a bloody mirror wheel, picking out the slightest of movements. He couldn't risk using it for long. There. One of them. It was crouched up ahead, trying to hide behind a log. Within seconds, he was upon them, lightly striking the startled figure behind the head and into unconsciousness. He rifled swiftly through its pockets. No documents of any form. He threw the limp body onto his shoulder, listening intently for the other. They couldn't be too much further on.
A shake of a branch under pressure caught his attention. He glanced up, only to see a kunai flying towards him. He dropped the body and dodged to one side, katana drawn. The other ninja above him paid no attention to their fallen comrade. Not the right one. Kakashi leapt, Chakra sticking his feet to the tree trunk as he sprinted up the tree's rough surface. In seconds he was on top of the hooded ninja, katana slashing in deadly arcs. His opponent flitted backwards, spiriting out of sight, or at least attempting to. The Sharingan spun in a bloody whirl, easily allowing Kakashi to track and copy the ninja's own movement. The two reappeared in the same spot, Kakashi's katana slicing forwards again.
A bloodcurdling shriek and the Shinobi's left arm, raised in a last minute defense of desperation, was sheared off at the elbow. Kakashi raised his own arm to avoid the blood that splattered his face, protecting his eyes. The ninja fell, sweating and swearing, voice high-pitched with pain. Steeling his heart to the injured man's cries, Kakashi grabbed him by the shoulder, hauling him aloft to look him in the eye. His captive had blue eyes, stretched with overwhelming pain and fear. Kakashi was impressed at the Sharingan's effect; it made him seem even more intimidating.
"Where is the other one?" he growled, voice low and menacing. His captive shook his head in terror. Not an experienced ninja by the looks of it. Kakashi doubted that he was even a full Chuunin; only a lower-level or very cowardly ninja would have crumbled so easily. He slowly raised the katana again, blood dripping in crimson rivulets from the glowing blade. "If you can't tell me where the spy is, then you're of no use to me." The threat was unveiled and with every inch of cold-bloodedness that Kakashi could muster. The Hokage had no qualms with this blood being spilt; that would be for Kakashi to sweat over at the dead of night.
"I…I don't know where he is…" Waves of pain were shooting through the other ninja, clasped helplessly in Kakashi's merciless grasp. "I was…. I was just…paid to look out for the group… that's all."
"How did you see us?" Kakashi demanded, grip tightening.
"Didn't…didn't see you. The other one did… the one who came with us… who lead us. He's killed one of you already… he's picking you off… sent us to…to distract you." Kakashi felt his blood run cold. He dropped the man and abandoned him, using the ninja's own jutsu to vanish and reappear on the path. Silence all around him. Even the ambience of nature had been silenced. This was not good.
"ANBU." The statement came as a combination of greeting and accusation. Kakashi jerked his head over his shoulder, Sharingan flaring. His addressor stood behind him, swathed in mist. A ninja of the Hidden Mist? Of course…the clouds and rain would have been a perfect backdrop for him to remain unseen.
"What business have you here?" barked Kakashi. "A little fighter for hire?"
The other Shinobi chuckled. "Fighter for hire? Close enough I suppose. At the end of the day, aren't you the same thing?"
"Don't talk in circles," snapped Kakashi, katana hilt creaking in his grasp. "Your client is coming with us. I suggest that you surrender the spy and sink back into whatever puddle you crawled out of." Flagrant words, insulting, but largely ineffective. Kakashi used them flippantly as he scanned the surroundings. Still no sign of Masurao and the other three. Where on earth were they? How many "distractions" had there been? His own target had also mentioned that one of them was dead. He hoped that it was a mistake.
The mist was growing heavier, engulfing the forest around him. Kakashi couldn't see what was going on around him. Shit. This was not a good jutsu to get trapped in. Who was this assailant anyway?
"Your ambush has been sprung. You'd do well to leave" The hidden voice was mocking, easily confident. Not even the Sharingan could pierce these natural fogs. It wasn't an illusion, but a manipulation of the elements. Well that was just wonderful. Kakashi willed himself to remain perfectly still, letting his other senses tell him where is opponent was.
"It's not even worth killing you. You've failed your little mission. The spy's long gone. You weren't even tracking a spy in the first place" chuckled the voice, fading away. They were leaving, just like that! Kakashi was torn between feeling relieved and insulted. Not even worth killing? It must have been outrageously easy for them to have been snuck up on… How humiliating. Blinking with concentration, Kakashi gingerly picked his way out of the fog and off the path, wandering through the shrouded trees. There had to be a limit to the fog. Once he got out of it, then he could try following the trail again. Trying to summon the dogs would be pointless at the moment; they'd be running into trees every three steps, even if they did manage to find the scent.
He'd been bumbling around the woods in a most spectacularly aimless fashion for about ten minutes when the flailing presence of Masurao made itself known, in the form of crashing face-first into Kakashi's chest. Stunned, Kakashi nearly fell over backwards, bracing just in time and hastily drawing his katana, poised to strike. When Masurao's bemused and slightly dazed face swam into Kakashi's sight, he hastily halted his attack. "Masurao!"
"Hello Kakashi… all three of you" mumbled Masurao, eyes swimming oddly. "Your armor's pretty solid, did you know that?"
"Well it is supposed to deflect shuriken and the like" chided Kakashi, reaching out a hand to steady Masurao. "Where're the others?"
He shrugged. "Must've lost them. I saw two head off in the direction of the spy group. Dunno where the other one went." Kakashi felt his throat tighten. The one that was killed? He frowned. "Masurao. I think that one of our number has been killed." The other ninja gave a sharp intake of breath. "You want me to look for the body?"
He shook his head. "Let's get back to the mission. We'll come back afterwards. The Mist ninja told me that this was a ruse, but we can't take his word. Not until we find the others and confirm it."
"A ruse? How annoying. What if the other one's still alive? Shouldn't we find him?"
"If they've held on this long, they can hold on another twenty minutes or so. Either way, we can't abandon the mission." Kakashi spat the words, but managed to force them out all the same. He hated the principle, but that wasn't the point. Masurao nodded in silent agreement. The two walked side by side, finally finding a break in the peculiar ninja's mist, from which they both leapt into a dead run. The trail was still fresh. They could catch up if they really made an effort.
"Kakashi" rasped Masurao, sprinting noiselessly alongside the pale Shinobi. "Up ahead. Do you sense that?"
A clash of Chakra. Kakashi could hear the crackles of energy. One of the ANBU must be powering up something incredible. Maybe the questionable spy was better equipped than they'd thought… He nodded to Masurao. "Split up and come at the battlefield from different ends" he instructed. He was the ANBU member anyway. It was his duty to take care of this type of mission. He could see the distaste cross momentarily across Masurao's face, before the older Jounin nodded tightly in agreement and took off into the underbrush, fading from Kakashi's sight. He continued down his wavering path, dodging trees as he flitted through the dense forest. The fleeing group had only been ordinary people after all; they couldn't have gotten too far, not in this kind of terrain.
But the Charka spark was nagging him. There must be an adept ninja hidden within the group, only now forced into confrontation. What kind of an opponent was this one? A flicker of doubt crossed his mind. Maybe he shouldn't have split up from Masurao. No. It was too late to worry about that now. He'd just have to make do with whatever happened. That was just it.
A clearing surged into Kakashi's vision, as he barreled out of the forest and into the small copse. All mood for stealth had vanished. Three surprised faces turned to him, pale with fear, huddled at the base of a tree. They seemed too scared to flee. In the middle of the clearing, one of the dull-robed travelers was holding a gasping ANBU by the throat easily aloft. Kakashi didn't think. He leapt straight for the figure holding his comrade in a stranglehold.
The figure threw the ANBU's convulsing body at Kakashi, forcing him to stop and catch the choking Leaf Shinobi. The robed assailant slid easily into a fighting stance, eyes glinting with something like amusement. Kakashi gently lowered the choking ANBU to the ground, own eyes hardening behind the wooden mask. His opponent did not appear to be armed, nor was the Chakra that had sparked so obviously earlier visible. He looked too confident to be drained dry of energy. There had to be more to this. Kakashi reached back and drew his katana.
A dry chuckle from his opponent's mouth, wrapped in thick cloth and covered from view. "So afraid already, ANBU? Quite rightly so. That would've been the second one that's dead."
"Which one of you is the spy? Tell me now and I won't wring it from you." A quick bluff to mask his scanning of the situation. The three huddled by the tree didn't look up to much. They were laden down with packs and seemed both utterly terrified and confused at the same time. Both were male, elderly. Probably just travelers heading in the same direction and unfortunate enough to be dragged into the group for cover. The spy must have merged in with them to avoid suspicion. Well, there went that little idea.
"Which one?" The chuckle rose to a higher pitch with disbelief. "There never was a spy, ANBU! You've been set up! This has been planned for months as a decoy for that idiot Hokage of yours!" Kakashi paled, eyes widening behind the mask. He felt as though someone had just crept up behind him and stabbed him in the ribs. He was almost tempted to check that they hadn't.
"What is your purpose?" he hissed, leveling his katana. The Hokage wouldn't have duped him or the others intentionally. His opponent raised one dark eyebrow. "My purpose? Isn't it obvious?"
At Kakashi's silence, apparently it wasn't.
"That 'spy' wasn't really a spy. It was a setup to take the Hokage's attention from the real spy. As we speak, your true target has already crossed the border. And guess what? You're trapped. Completely encircled. Even if you defeat me, the Hidden Mist's ninja will return and pick up the slack. You want my advice? Surrender and maybe it won't hurt so much."
Kakashi glanced down at his katana. The silvery blade was shaking, his hand clenched so tightly about the hilt that his fingernails bit into the tough leather wrappings. This was do or die. They were rats in a trap. He didn't know how many others were surrounding them, or what their abilities were, or anything. The last two had been easy enough; he couldn't assume that they'd all be like that though.
"You think that the Mist ninja will return?" questioned Kakashi mildly. "He left. He's told me all this already. No one's coming to your rescue." He opened the Sharingan eye lazily, barely visible through the eye-slits in his dog mask from this distance. Not that that affected its purpose at all. He was ready for the slightest movement. His opponent grinned, but there was a tremour of doubt, barely noticeable to the naked, non-Sharingan eye. Good. He'd struck a nerve. At that, he moved in.
The katana flashed, grinding against a concealed arm guard. Kakashi flipped it back in a reverse crescent, cutting in and forcing his opponent to dodge, leaping backwards. He moved in again, cutting and slicing in deadly spinning arcs. All that the other Shinobi was doing was moving out of the way, the edges of his robe nicked by the blade's path. Hm. This was perplexingly easy. He flipped the blade expertly from hand to hand, forcing the dodging Shinobi back towards a tree and into a corner to avoid the slicing dives of that lightning fast sword. He'd have to attack soon. And Kakashi'd be ready for it.
A flare of Chakra spurted into the Shinobi's hand, stretching out to punch Kakashi in the chest. Kakashi's eyes widened and he pivoted out of the way, sword cutting downwards and narrowly missing the extended limb. Chakra hissed and sparked at his opponent's fingertips, a grin lazily playing in the other ninja's eyes. Another dive at striking Kakashi. He exchanged himself with a Kawarami, letting the log take the brunt of the strike. The animated wood burst on contact, shattering as though smashed with an ax. Not a nice attack to get hit with then. Maybe being cautious was a good idea after all.
However, the other ninja seemed determined to use this move against the darting silver Shinobi. Try as he might, Kakashi could not get out of range from the ninja's Chakra-hand. Every time he blurred out of sight, the Shinobi was behind him, at his side or moving in from the front, hand aflame. What was this guy; a one-trick pony?
There was no other option. He had to get rid of those hands. The Shinobi was diving closer and closer, skimming past Kakashi's armor with only the barest of margins to spare. A head-on collision could shatter his armor, sending shrapnel spinning in lethal paths all around them. Shrapnel that could pierce flesh and shred its way through skin and sinew as easily as a butcher's knife, though much less tidily. A head-on strike without armor would mean burst lungs and splintered ribs. All in all, not a nice way to end up. Kakashi poured Chakra into his Sharingan, the mirror wheel spinning its vicious, bloody circle. All at once the other Shinobi became nothing more than a walking target; every vulnerable point highlighted and every movement advertised as though surrounded with neon lighting.
He moved in, katana cutting in a vivid circle, flashing in the dull mists with what limited light could be reflected in the heavy grey morning. Heartbeat pounded slowly in his head. Breath roared into his lungs. Exhaled in noisy swirls. The other ninja's breath whistling in his ears. The other heartbeat elevated. Bloodshot eyes. Green irises. Jade green with flecks of yellow and brown. Skin pockmarked from adolescent skin disorders. They were side by side. He could feel the body heat radiating from under the drab cloak, hear the squeak of the leather boots hidden under it. The katana plunged in a steep undercut, slicing upwards, striking flesh at the opposite hip and continuing upwards. A hiss of pain. A splurt of blood. Splatter as droplets spilt onto the ground. The eyes widened further. The hand stretched out to meet him.
Kakashi felt his own eyes widen, his own breathing grow shallower. Burning fingertips reached for his throat. Too close! He hadn't cut quickly enough! Fingertips quivered as they neared him, all time at a standstill. He could feel the licking of the flames against his throat, covered by the thinnest of black fabric.
No. The hand was moving away, pushed by something. Kakashi's eyes drifted to the side. Masurao's ungloved hand had closed on the fireball that engulfed the Shinobi's palm. Masurao's eyes were expressionless, his face taut with pain. Fragments of his friend's hand were scattering, shredded by the Chakra that they were pushing away. Chunks of ruined flesh, snippets of delicate bone smashed to pulp.
"Masurao!" breathed Kakashi. The force of his swing thrust him away to the side, clumsily dropping his katana to avoid cutting Masurao on the reverse. The sword clunked to the forest floor, dripping with thick trails of arterial blood. All at once the clearing exploded. Screams seared Kakashi's ears. The sliced ninja fell to the floor, unable to support himself on one leg, the other hanging uselessly with the severed half of his waist. Masurao tripped on the fallen body, slipping in spilled entrails, his own hand awash with blood. Sickly shades of red and purple from exposed veins and shattered bones stained the earthy hues of the cold, rain-drenched ground. Kakashi stooped and grabbed his friend hastily, to move him out of the screaming Shinobi's way.
Another hand reached out, Chakra burning in convulsive rays. Eyes crazed with pain, driven by grim instinct to finish the job. A new scream shattered the clearing. A new splatter of blood rained onto the muddy, bloodied scrub of the forest floor. Another hot trail of scarlet life energy expelled in a lethal burst.
Now time truly had stopped. Kakashi was frozen, still bent over Masurao, both hands hauling the Leaf Jounin by the torso in attempt to get him out of harm's way. Masurao's eyes were fixed on Kakashi's, filled with fear, relief and a kind of horrified wonderment. They glazed in pain, breath stilling with a horrified shudder.
"Ka..kashi…" he murmured. "I…" Strength fled from him, draining with all the blood from his face. He angled his head slightly, face deathly pale, breath huffing in short, sharp gasps. Kakashi choked, horror building up as a physical embodiment in his throat. He could barely see over Masurao's shoulder, but the blood that had splattered his mask, spilling into his eye slots spoke volumes.
A hacking cough, tinged with the grim laughter of a hard earned victory. Kakashi straightened, eyes flooding as he looked over Masurao to the fallen ninja behind him, almost severed in two, but one hand resting on the pulverized remains of Masurao's lower back. The other hand rested there too, fingers wrapped loosely around a poisoned dart, dosed with a thick black toxin. He almost laughed at the hopelessness of it all. One of those moves would have sufficed. How desperate could you get? Giddy, half-formed, unreal thoughts flooded into his skull. Sinking to the floor, he could only sit, hiccoughing with disbelief.
Blood that had spurted in powerful successions, forced by Masurao's adrenalin-fueled heart was slowing, flooding, pooling and sinking into the slurry of dark earth and blood, pale bone and pulsating entrails. Kakashi cradled his friend's head in his lap, mask askew over his face. Tears poured in unashamed rivulets, cutting through the blood splatters in light trails, trickling from his cheeks down to his chin, sprinkling onto the surprised, lifeless features of the cooling body of Irai Masurao.
What happened next Kakashi could not remember.
The rhythm of walking awoke in his lulled brain. Legs swinging stiffly forwards and backwards. Swaying left then right. Tripping over sticks, sliding in muddy patches. He was heading somewhere. His feet were programmed without thought, taking him home. Branches scratched his face, arms scored by the wrath of brambles, leaving little trails of blood across his already crimson hands. In his hands, a cold bundle. The bundle's head was resting on his shoulder, stiffened and awkward. Somehow he was carrying it still as he stumbled on. Tears had crusted on his cheeks, the coppery smell of blood on his face, in his hair, on his tongue. Everywhere. Intoxicating, sickening, oppressive. The wind battered his face. The mask was gone. The rain had sunk through his clothes. Cold, blood, pain everywhere.
Faceless figures came rushing to meet him. They said things. Strange things. Things that didn't connect to any meaning in Kakashi's head. They pulled at him. Pressed at him. They took the bundle from his arms, squawking and chirping in a distressed manner. He clung to it reluctantly. Didn't know why. There was value to what he cradled in his arms, but he didn't know what. Everything was hazy. The scent of blood overpowering. He finally just let go. Everything just a blur. Just nothingness. Lights swirled past him, buildings nothing but solid obstacles in the way, people nothing but chirping nuisances.
He found himself inside his apartment. His wanderings had taken him there it would seem. Fatigue was all that he could feel. Everything inside his head was muffled. Thoughts weren't forming. He sagged, unable to stand, falling into a pile of soft clothes. Consciousness was slipping, but he held it stubbornly. Didn't know why. Didn't know anything.
The shadows in the room were darker, more forbidding than ever. The light more painful to his eyes. Pain was there. That was something. Pain in his arms. Blood, his own blood. Deep scratches. He looked at them, uncomprehending. More blood on his hands. Masurao's blood. How could it be Masurao's blood? Masurao never got in harm's way. He was too smart for that. Masurao was always fine. He was good at that. He never put himself in danger. He was always there, waiting at the end.
So how could that be? No answer came to him from the silence of his home. Mounds of soft clothes. Cobwebbed ceiling. Greasy stains on the window. Clutter on the floor. Discarded food wrappers. Pile of kunai by the dresser. Mess of the room reflected in the scratched mirror on the dresser. No one else here but him.
Hands on the mirror, can't get much clearer
Can't make this all go away.
Something so surreal about it all. Thoughts swam around his head as he lay there, blood smearing the clean clothes that were scattered about the apartment. He remembered a dart. Poison dart. Why did he remember that? One lone needle, slick with black slime. Stuck deeply into sodden, bloodied… oh gods.
Now that you're bleeding, you stare at the ceiling
And watch as it all fades away.
Toxin in the blood. Writhing through the veins. Slow acting? Fast acting? What were its effects? How easily can it be prepared and stored, ready for quick use on the battlefield? On which opponents do you use these particular toxins? Questions battered his brain. Another exam? Everything was so strange, so abstract.
From what you do,
Because of you
Maybe he had been poisoned? Logic was swimming loosely about his mind, unattached to anything. He was a vessel for simple thoughts, none of them belonging to him, and all of them only fleetingly noticed. Not possible… only Masurao had been stuck with that lethal dart. The only way… if blood got into an open wound. Oh… never mind. Head refused to lift from the pile of blissfully soft fabric. The calming, clean scent of soap powder, jasmine shampoo. Easing the heady, metallic fumes of drying blood. So tired. So sore. So utterly, utterly defeated.
A noise above him. Everything was quieter now, sounds deadened to his ears. Maybe this was death. Maybe it was something else. He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't care really about anything. There was someone else in the room with them. A voice in his ear, blurred and indistinguishable from the malformed thoughts that probed his skull. No distinction between dream and reality. Something hauling him aloft. Or maybe they were dragging him to the floor. Eyes rolled in the back of his head. Who could tell anymore? He just let it happen, whatever it was.
I know by the look that I see in your eye
I won't stand around and I won't watch you die
It was all becoming lighter. Brightness and white light engulfing him. New sounds, unfamiliar sounds a barrage against his ears. He gave into the desire to sleep and throw it all to one side. He couldn't, wouldn't take any more. Just let it all stop.
……………..
Two figures stood by the obsidian memorial stone, one of them slightly taller than the other. A bunch of white lilies was clasped in the hand of the shorter, until she stooped to lay them at the foot of the monument. The taller, lankier figure just stood there as though stunned. The shorter figure, long black hair swishing as she straightened, turned to him.
"Kakashi. I'm not going to leave you here. I can't trust you not to sit here all night."
Kakashi's voice was tired, strained. "I know, Kuro. I don't want to stay. Just let me be to think a little." She nodded, dark blue eyes heavy with sorrow. She laid one hand on Kakashi's shoulder in a small gesture of sympathy and walked away, attentions directed elsewhere. He appreciated the idea, but couldn't dwell on it.
Turning back to the stone, he stared in disbelief at the newest carving. Irai Masurao. Killed in line of duty. An honourable death for an honourable ninja. He would be immortalised by his work and remembered by a hunk of immobile stone, even after all those who knew him passed on. It was odd. Not to see that face again. Those cheeky, droll eyes laughing back at him. The haphazard hairstyle. The klutzy missteps and foolish retorts. The small gestures. The big gestures. Helping him through his father's suicide and developing his relationship with Kurotaka.
Obito. Masurao. Akiraka. How many more of those he loved was this war going to claim?
Kurotaka was wandering, ambling out of earshot, but still within sight. An overwhelming feeling of guilt washed over him, forcing the tears that he had been stilling to spill over. He raised one gloved hand to dash them away, staring sightlessly at the cold stone. She had been the one to find him, bloodied and under the influence of the poison, limp on the floor of their apartment. The poison that had corroded away what little hope of survival that Masurao had had also flooded into his own veins, admitted by the cuts picked up from his dazed stagger back to Konoha.
So close to death himself, he could almost imagine what it was like to actually let go. Kurotaka hadn't though. She'd stayed by his side until he woke up and forced himself to understand what had happened. Every horrible detail. Only Kakashi knew the full story though. Masurao had moved into danger because of him. Never again. He'd said that he'd never again let his teammates die. He'd failed.
Kurotaka was back at his shoulder, standing silently. Her eyes searched his, but she made no comment about the tears that stood there, glittering like shards of broken glass.
"Masurao lived well and died heroically. He should not have died. No one here should have." She gestured towards the stone. "You can't blame yourself for his actions, nor those of your enemy. You didn't start the war. You didn't send yourself and Masurao into combat that day." Her voice was fierce, demanding that he listen to her. His eyes held hers reluctantly.
"I know." He answered quietly. "It's just that… I've lost so much already. Why did he have to go as well?"
She sighed, wrapping her arms tightly about his chest, burying her head into the hollow of his collarbone. They stood there, wordless and immobile for over a minute. Exhaling a shaky breath, Kurotaka slowly spoke "I don't know why, Kakashi. But you're still here. That has to be for a reason. You haven't lost everything just yet. Don't forget that."
He pushed his nose into her hair, inhaling the clean, flowery scent of her, chin resting on the top of her head. "I know, Kurotaka. Don't make me keep repeating that."
"I mean it, Kakashi-kun. Don't forget it. I don't want you to ever let go, not like how you almost did back at the apartment. We live, just like we die, for a reason. I'll never forgive you if you die like that."
He smiled wearily, ignoring the lump that still blocked his throat with longing to scream his anger and sorrow at the injustice to the world. "Don't worry. I won't die like that. I'll fight for life. Just make sure that you do that same."
She looked up at him, smiled and nodded. "Come on. Let's go home."
The two left the monument site. Only Kakashi would return there. He still needed to see those words there. Still needed to believe that it hadn't all been a nightmare. Still needed to remember the promise that he made.
………….
Wild-filly: That was the hardest chapter that I've ever written for anything. Reviews would be appreciated. Thank you.
