Disclaimed.
It was just nearing midnight when Kaede stumbled into the dark apartment, and Sachio was still awake. He stared at the bedroom door as it creaked open, and watched Kaede undress sloppily and stagger into his bed. She reeked of alcohol, salt-water and cheap soap; silently he reached out and brushed away her tears.
"Sachio," She whimpered both mournfully and pathetically. "I can't do this anymore."
His fingers traced her swollen bruised cheeks, feeling the new little cuts and scrapes and bruises. "You're drunk." He said solemnly.
More tears spilt and hit his fingers. She sniffed. "Nu-uh."
Sachio pulled her close, pressing his ugly worn body against hers. "You're crying. You never cry." He murmured leaning in to kiss away her tears.
"Jus' 'cu I don't doesn't mean I can't." She slurred, "Mama says she doesn't want me to be with you,"
"Why?"
"She an' Papa don't think this is right. Is it wrong? Is it bad that I'm with you?"
"I dunno, but sometimes you have to fight for what really matters to you."
"I'm tired of fighting. I don' wanna do it anymore." The Hatake heiress whispered her tears drying fretfully as she curled against Sachio.
"I know." Sachio replied stoking her hair. Across the room, a picture of Naruko smiled at him maliciously. "But we deserve to be happy too right? We deserve the chance to be selfish too right?"
He got no reply, so Sachio just pulled Kaede closer and tried to memorize the feeling of her warmth, and her feathery breathing.