The sun shining through the crack in the window seemed to burn my eye. Iruka was sitting in a chair across from my bed, head in hands and a look of concerned etched across his face. He saw me stir and watched me intently. I tried to fool him into thinking I was still asleep, but he noticed me wake up. I wasn't ready for a lecture on what I did was wrong. He opened his mouth as if to start, but stopped and pressed it into a thin, firm line. Lowering his eyes, I felt a surge of guilt come over me. The mask around my face constricted my throat, so I removed it and slid under the covers. He had taken off my Jonin jacket for me, thank God because it was uncomfortable to sleep in. I slipped my eyes above the covers as nonchalantly as possible. The look on his face hurt me. "Iruka," I began, "I don't know what got into m—" He cut me off. "It's okay, Kakashi. If I were you, I probably would have done the same thing." I saw his eyes glaze over. He didn't need to hold back tears while he was with me. He knew that, and I didn't need to remind him, but a person can only hope to feel so strong after someone they can relate to so well is gone.

Hope is a funny, funny word sometimes.

This isn't a laughing matter, I assure you, but if you think about it, hope never prevails. Sheer determination and luck do. The only person that could pull of all three in one shot was a certain boy who possessed the least hope of all. Hope for him was probably being eaten away more and more each day by the Kyuubi inside of him. Every taunt, every jeer, every shed tear was like a feast to him. The sugar to his spice.

They didn't call it a demon-fox for nothing.

I felt a nudge from above and slipped my mask back on sliding above the covers. Iruka was beaming. "Come on, Kakashi. You've been in bed for two days now, let's go visit that memorial stone, or get out and do something. This tiny room is killing me. And I tried reading some of your books. Frankly, those shouldn't be read by people under 25…but that's just my humble opinion." His words lifted my spirits a bit and I climbed out of bed.

As we walked towards the stone, I realized how much Iruka looked like Naruto when he smiled. So much hurt pushed back by such a simple gesture. Maybe I would stop wearing my mask so I could show my smile.

^.^

On the way to the stone, I noticed Iruka had left to go and eat something. I told him I would catch up later. Since that day the Third Hokage came and talked to him about his parents at the stone, he's found it too depressing to go back. I did too, but Obito's spirit in me keeps tugging me back.

Guilt is a weird and wonderful thing.

I walked over to the stone and traced the names I knew. Starting from the first person I witnessed die, to Naruto. Die and Naruto doesn't sounds right together in a sentence unless will not is between them. I slid off my glove and started to unconsciously make rhymes.

O…B…I…T…O

What a great guy. He gave me his eye.

R…I…N

Such a great medical-nin.

M…I…N…A…T…O

The dad of Naruto.

The list went on and on until I got to the last name in the list.

N…A…R…

My finger started to tremble and I put my glove back on.

What time was it? Iruka always knew I stayed at the stone a long while, so I still had minutes to burn. My legs carried me towards Naruto's apartment. I climbed through the window and memories of the first day at the Academy flooded my mind.

"So he lives here all by himself, Hokage-sama?"

"Yeah. Quite sad, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is." I picked up the carton of milk. "If he drinks this he's going to get a stomach ache."

My first impressions of Naruto. I walked over to the little table and picked up the empty ramen cup to throw it away. Suddenly, my ears focused in on a sound. Footsteps. Was someone on his roof? I quickly climbed out the window and onto the roof. No one was there. I swung my body back inside and saw someone standing in the kitchen. My eyes focused in on the person and I gasped.

"Sasuke?"

^.^

Sasuke smirked and sheathed his sword again. I hadn't realized it had been drawn. He walked over to me and held out his hand. My eyes narrowed in on him. "What are here for Sasuke?" I studied his face, the now more prominent lines under his eyes, though not nearly like Itachi's, his Akatsuki cloak—a new addition to him since the last time we met, the grown out hair that covered his eye brows but was still spiked, his dark eyes that gave off no sign of murderous intent.

Yet.

Sasuke looked around the apartment and shrugged. "I came to see if he was really dead." He said it so monotone, so easily, so freaking calmly you wouldn't have ever known he actually cared about Naruto at a point in time. "You should know if he was dead," I started darkly, "because you're part of the Akatsuki, and they're the ones that killed him." Sasuke rolled his eyes and scowled, but then changed his placid face into a slight grin. The grin etched on his pale face seemed so out of place, as it wrinkled his forehead and poked his dimples out. It was almost scary.

Almost.

"I actually had no idea they got Naruto until Madara mentioned something about it." I clenched my fist. Sasuke looked at the ground after noticed my whitening knuckles. "I offer my condolences." My fist released. "Can I see the gravesite?" His voice had become quiet, almost sad. Did he care? I started to say yes, but logic came into play. "Not right now, Sasuke. Someone is wating for me already. And it's daytime, and you're a missing-nin. They'll come and capture you, no matter what the reason you're here for is." I wondered how he got into the village anyways. Well, it was Sasuke after all. The Sasuke. The trainee of Orochimaru and legendary murderer of Itachi Uchiha. Sasuke seemed unsatisfied with this reply, though he knew it to be true. "I'm coming tonight. Meet me here." It was an order, not a request. I silently nodded my head and he disappeared. I headed off to Iruka, but something drew my attention.

I looked down at my hand and realized I was still holding Naruto's ramen cup.