Author's Note: Kakashi will be a little OOC when it's just one-on-one with him and Yuki, as he took her in when she was little. He's trying to take care of her as she suffers through her depression. I'm not entirely sure on how to have him treat her, so I'm just…having him get her out of bed and go to school to see if a change in routine helps her. I don't Naruto, just Yuki and a couple other characters. Um, enjoy. I'm rusty again. I'm sorry. I might edit this later, as it quite possibly needs it. Please tell me what you think!
A thin stream of light shot through heavy curtains, dancing across a messy mop of blonde and a pair of closed eyes. The light imitated a heavenly spotlight, shining upon the sleeping face of a girl tangled in her bed sheets, gently beckoning for her to awaken. She grunted in her sleep and turned her head away from the light, clutching onto a small pillow. The fingers of light receded. It wouldn't be enough to wake her.
She was in a heap of black and purple sheets, tangled and half uncovered, breathing softly as she slept in spite of the morning. She had always been a heavy sleeper, unfazed by light and most sounds, and today was no exception, her face buried into the pillow she held. She would not be awoken. She would not be bothered.
Unless, of course, her father decided otherwise. A soft knock resounded on the door of her room and it slowly swung open, a silver-haired man wearing a medical mask stepping inside. He was careful to be quiet as he continued to her bedside, a light sigh escaping him as he reviewed her room. She was quite the messy one. Papers, presumably homework from school, were strewn about the floor next to small piles of clothes and pairs of boots and tennis shoes. Pencils and erasers were no different. The books on her desk in the corner were open and stacked, more paper hanging precariously off one side of the desk. An open water bottle lay on its side on the table next to her bed. It was empty. Her bed was just a pile with her at the bottom of it, sleeping soundly in light sweat and mild discomfort.
She'd been like this since earlier this year in spring – sleeping and ignoring the world. She would sleep for days, skipping school for weeks at a time, buried in blankets and darkness – alone. He rubbed his neck in thought, his brows drawn up, crestfallen. She would shut their dog, Akahana, her best friend, out of her room and sit in the dark, throw her things around the room, cry, and sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her eat. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her. She rarely spoke to him anymore. She just… She hid from the world.
At first, he thought it was a phase, some kind of rebellion, but he was wrong. It's been months since she's been her loud, hot-headed self, since she'd eaten star fruit and dango with him. It's been months since he'd seen her smile, since he'd seen her paint. It's been months since he'd seen her happy, since he'd seen her play with Akahana. She was so distant and so…so sad. He couldn't take it anymore. Gods only why he lasted this long. His daughter….
He got down to his knees beside her bed and readied himself to wake her, but the light tapping of paws and claws on the hardwood flooring caught his ears and he looked over at the door, the black head of Akahana poking in. He brought a finger up to his covered lips and softly warned her to be quiet. He could handle it. He always did – he was the only that could. He turned back to the girl and reached forward, gently latching onto her shoulder.
"Yuki, wake up," he whispered, shaking her. "Wake up."
He was answered with a grumble.
"Yuki," he repeated, a little more loudly this time. "Wake up."
A sigh left her and he waited, pulling his hand off of her. It would be good for her to get out of bed and go to school, instead of staying another day cooped up inside, isolated from everyone and everything. She had friends, she had a future. He didn't want her to throw it away. He didn't want her to rot in her room. He wanted her to be healthy. He wanted her to feel better and he thought that, maybe, just maybe, time away from the house, time spent with her friends, would help her do just that.
"Why, Kakashi-tousan…?" she whispered, unmoving.
Akahana padded up to the side of the bed next to him and rested her head on his knee, whining softly. He pet her, rubbing her ears, but otherwise kept his attention on the blonde lying in bed.
"You're going to school today. It'll be good for you," he answered firmly, but kindly. Keeping an even and gentle tone was important, he mused, especially if he wanted her to listen.
She was silent for a moment, then she rolled over. Her face was puffy and pale, her eyes and lips swollen and red. She looked so…so uncomfortable, so in pain. It took a lot not to be visibly upset by it. He bit his lip and stood up after gently pushing Akahana's head off his knee, stepping away from her bed. She didn't even respond to the dog. He frowned.
"I don't want to…"
"I know, Yuki, but some activity and communication will be good for you. You've been stuck inside for the better part of the last four months," Kakashi said, softening his tone. "Please…just for today."
She was silent again and Akahana had padded closer to the edge of the bed, resting her head as close to Yuki's as possible. Her eyes moved from Kakashi to the dog, blinked, and returned. A weak hand emerged from the pile of sheets and blankets to rub one of her ears, but stopped halfway and fell to the bed. The sight made him narrow his eyes. Her skin was too pale and she was hardly acknowledging the dog. He knew, deep down, that she didn't mean to. He knew she was just upset and hurting and that she was having a hard time controlling herself. He knew that. But…he couldn't fathom how it'd been affecting her all this time. He couldn't wrap his head around it. He couldn't.
It… hurt him. It hurt him to see how different his daughter had become in just a few short months. It hurt him even more knowing that he couldn't really help the situation. Sure, he was trying, but does simply trying suffice anymore? Does trying mean the same to her? Does trying carry the same weight as doing? Gods, he didn't know. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brows. He wished he did. He wished he knew what to do. He wished he knew if it was enough. He wished an, 'I love you, Yuki,' would be enough. He wished a warm bath would be enough. He wished a cup of hot tea would be enough. He wished his idea of a routine would be enough. He wished her friends would be enough. And he dreaded the thought that none of those things would be. Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed, uncertainty and fear for her emotional health growing in the back of his brain.
Gods, let them be enough.
"Kakashi-tousan…" Yuki rasped, her voice a little louder than it was before. It was forced and definitely pained, but…it was something. It was effort. He saw it as a good sign.
"Yes?"
"I-I will attempt it."
Her words surprised him just a little, but the notion of her trying gave him confidence, albeit only a little. He knelt back down beside her bed alongside Akahana and reached forward to brush away the hair falling into her face. His fingers touched her forehead; her skin was clammy. She really had been in this room too long. He eyed her for a moment, taking in her otherwise blank expression, and took a breath.
"School starts in an hour. Do you want me to help you into the bathroom?" he asked softly, pulling his hand away from her face and patting Akahana. He was just happy she was willing to try. "Because I can. I can help you. I washed your uniform and got out the extra towels and—"
"Kakashi-tousan, it's okay," she said lightly, her brows curving upward.
He smiled under his mask. Maybe telling her that he loved her would help now. Maybe it would give some extra confidence. Maybe… He wasn't sure. He sighed to himself. The only times he had ever been uncertain of his footing were always with her. But, if he knew anything, it was taking chances anyway to see if things would change. He looked her in the eyes.
"I love you, Yuki," he told her, giving her his signature closed-eye smile. Perhaps some normalcy is best, after all.
"I love you too…, dad."