under the same sun
[gone]
summary: she tries so hard to make herself forget, but the constant reminder that he was gone and wasn't ever coming back never left her.
rating: T
characters: Rin, Kakashi
honorable mentions: Obito, Minato, Kushina
note1: i've been kind of lame with updating – and school is really kicking my ass now, so this is a product of no sleep, too much homework, and a lot of coffee.
note2: there will be some slight (like, so minuscule that you'd need a magnifying glass just to see it) KakaRin (basically friendship if you wanted to label it) in this. just a little though – it fit in with the plot, so i used it.
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She couldn't do it.
The gates, mockingly inviting her inside the safe haven that was her home, were nearing closer with each step she took, looming overhead like a storm cloud. She knew eventually she would reach them, walk through the frame that announced Konoha's symbol, and back into the melancholy that was her village.
She would be swept up into the constant reminder that a piece of her was missing – long gone with nothing but a name etched on stone, a few clumsily taken pictures, and miscellaneous things she couldn't bring herself to throw out.
The worst was probably the drastic change between her team, standing out obvious and painful, and once she entered back into her regular life, she would have to endure it all over again.
Although the village remained untouchable, her team took the greatest hit.
Kakashi was listless, Minato was solemn, and she was…numb.
The pain – raw, aching, and constant – was lessened by the months that passed since it happened, but the sense of detachment she felt was worse than the wrenching agony that ripped through her, feeling fresh and new with each passing second. Being a medic, she was well aware of the grief and stress she was placing on her mental state that was affecting her physical well-being, and (the surplus of volunteer missions she took to avoid the village – her home) was taking its toll on her body.
Drained of chakra and energy, and running on only three hours of sleep, she's exhausted.
Being busy, however, without allowing any time to think (to remember, to feel) enabled her to temporarily stop the onslaught of emotions from spilling over her when she was alone with her thoughts. Forgetting was never an option, though – it wasn't even a possibility. She would never be able to completely erase it from her mind.
Seeing him lying there, blood pooling around him, the thick crunch of rock hitting soft flesh, and knowing that there was almost nothing she – or anybody else – could do for him. What was the purpose of practicing and memorizing thick texts of medical knowledge if she wasn't able to help someone she cared about? If she couldn't save him, how was she going to save others - complete strangers?
The gates came into view and her heart sunk.
It used to give her a sign of homeliness, a sense of comfort after a long journey – not a feeling of foreboding and regret that settled heavily over her shoulders. Everything about the village caused the familiar ache to start anew, causing her to relive the tragic day when she lost someone so precious to her, leaving a grisly reminder that he was gone and wasn't ever coming back.
It hurt so much thinking about it.
Passing into the village, she waved weakly to the jonin standing guard, and trudged the same path to her house. There was no point in stopping to see if anyone was at the training ground anymore – Kakashi was never around anymore (or maybe she never saw him because she was too busy trying to avoid them both), and Minato was busying himself with Hokage preparations and his wife, Kushina.
Seeing her team only made her worse, and she hated feeling so bitter about it. This wasn't her usual persona; she didn't sulk or mourn so openly like this. Rin kept her grief to herself, careful not to pass it along to anyone else. It wasn't fair to make others suffer because of her loss.
However, she wasn't the only one.
They all were hurting and couldn't find the strength to put on a brave front, and so they hid from each other. It wasn't helping them to run from their problems, but it felt so much better than facing the reality that their teammate was gone, breaking their four-man cell into a simple trio that didn't quite fit together anymore.
Someone would replace him eventually. A stranger would fill that blank void caused by his disappearance from their lives. She hated thinking about that – masquerading around someone else who tried to replace him. It was selfish of her to want to postpone the date when they would be assigned a new teammate indefinitely – or at least until she could look at one of her team member without wanting to cry.
The changes following his…absence from her life were tangible.
Kakashi was barely in her mind.
She didn't even want to see him anymore.
It was kind of ironic to think of how desperately he wanted her to think about him, and now that he's gone, his wish was finally granted. How cruel was she…? All she could think of was him. His laugh, his eyes, his passion, his humor, his voice…every painstaking moment is spent either trying to avoid the subject or being unable to.
It was a horrible repetition that cycled over and over, never relinquishing the cold grip it had over her.
"Rin," the familiar drawl of his voice was unmistakable.
She quickened her pace, trying to run away from him without making it too obvious. Why did he have to be here? He was constantly trying to talk to her – about what happened, about why she didn't go – and she couldn't deal with what he would undoubtedly bring up.
His hand wrapped around her forearm, stopping her haste to get away. "Rin, stop it and listen to me."
She shivers – from the sorrow in his voice that's he desperately trying to hide – and tries to move away, to put some distance between them. "I'm busy, Kakashi-kun," she lies (for the first times to him, she notes with a bitter hint of guilt), "can this wait?"
"I've waited," he says, and it hurts to hear his voice sounding so nostalgic, digging up painful memories of when he used that same tone with him. "Every time I try to talk to you, you runaway from me – and I'm not letting that happen today."
"I-I'm busy."
"Were you too busy to go to his funeral, too?" The words aren't meant to be spiteful, to cause her any harm, but she still finds herself flinching at his silence observation.
The funeral was exactly three months and seven days ago. Kakashi was a pallbearer, along with Minato, and the Hokage even said some words in his favor – or so she'd heard. Rin didn't go, and spent the day wallowing inside her house, tucked neatly under the covers as the cold winds blew in through her open windows. The silence was almost deafening.
She couldn't do it, though. Standing among his family and friends as she trying to put on a brave face (and pretended that everything was going to be alright, but knowing that he partly died because of her) would've been too much to handle. Instead she spent the day in her room, refusing to move from her perch on the bed.
"That's…" she mutters weakly, unable to offer a rebuttal. "Don't do this now, kakashi-kun…"
"When do you want to do it then, Rin?" His grip tightens on her arm, and she welcomes the slight twinge of pain it creates, relishing in the fact that it was external for once. "He's...still gone, no matter when we talk."
Neither of them can say his name. It's a fact that doesn't go unnoticed, but remains unsaid.
"I…Can't do this now, Kakashi-kun, please…"
"Rin," suddenly she being tugged to his hard chest and the contrast between his soft embraces and Kakashi's awkward, distant ones are almost too noticeable. "He told me to protect you, and I will."
Her eyes widen at his confession – did he really say to protect her? – and she tenses in Kakashi's arms. Why would he want that, of all things, to be his last wish? Who was she to him? A teammate? A friend? It didn't make any sense…Unless…No, she couldn't think about that; there was a new pain, a new emotion, which she didn't want to ponder over – ever.
He tightens his hold on her for a second before letting go. Cautiously, he wraps his hand around her wrist and brings her gaze to his eyes. She couldn't even look at his face. The bandages around his eye - the operation that she did – are too raw and bring about too many painful emotions.
"Come with me, Rin."
Everything inside is battling against that suggestion, refusing to endure any more anguish. It would be too damaging to go wherever Kakashi wanted to take her. She knew where he would bring her; that marble slab of stone with engravings carved all around it – names of various ninja who fought and died for their village.
She couldn't do it.
"All right," she whispered against all that told her not to, resigning herself to the guilt and torment that would undoubtedly surface.
Kakashi gave her one last reassuring squeeze, the sorrow of her own eyes reflecting back at her in his grey-ish depths, before pulling her along the path she had yet to walk.
She was wrong – it didn't just hurt, it burned.
Clawing at her chest to reassure herself that her heart was still pumping inside her, and not tossed, torn to pieces, in a barrel of salt and vinegar, Rin gasped at how agonizing it was standing here, in front of his name.
How could Kakashi stand it?
"Why are we here?" She breathed.
Beside her, Kakashi shrugged. "You need this."
She wanted to rebuff his declaration – how did she need this pain? – but kept silence, unable to say another word as her eyes scanned the names against her will. Various ninja whom she never knew flashed before her eyes; the missing-in-action slab was nearly crowded with names.
"Right there," he pointed to a tombstone with fresh flowers perched at the bottom. "That's where his name is."
Her eyes followed his gaze, landing on the kanatana engraved in the stone. She swallowed thickly when his name finally appeared.
"Uchiha, Obito…" Kakashi whispered from her side, breaking the unspoken taboo his name brought. "It's kind of impersonal, no? His name surrounded by other ninja…"
"H-he would want t-that, though," she says, blinking back a frenzy of tears that threaten to spill over. "Being surrounded by all his comrades and p-people who gave their lives for the sake of the village," with the sudden courage, and the weight diminishing when Kakashi said his name, she swallows thickly and continues. "O-Obito-kun would really like that."
Kakashi draped a loose arm around her shoulder, tugging her close to his chest. "He would."
"I-I'm going to miss him so much, Kakashi-kun," she admitted softly, more to herself than the silver-haired boy beside her.
The pain didn't go away because she said his name; it was still lingering, feeling fresh and new like always, but somehow it was a little easier to handle. She didn't want to curl up and run away, instead she wanted to stand here, with Kakashi by her side, and remember Obito for all the good times they had and not his last moments alive.
"Do you blame me?" She heard the unmistakable self-loathing in his voice, and it tore through her already sore heart. "Tell me the truth, Rin – do you hate me because he – he…died?"
"Never," she whispered forcefully, bring her hands up to grasp the side of his face. The fabric under his eyes felt wet, and his one visible eye was bloodshot, but she didn't comment on it. "I don't blame you at all, Kakashi-kun. It was an accident that neither of us could've prevented."
His head dropped, unable to look at the sincerity in her gaze. "Rin…he loved you."
Her breath caught in her throat at his softly spoken words, hissed so quietly she could almost missed them. The guilt lacing his words caused her as much pain as the silent confession had. Obito loved her. Rin didn't want to admit it to herself - not until all the pain was gone and the sorrow didn't weight so heavily on her shoulders.
"I-I know…"
Kakashi grasped her shoulders in his hands, glancing up intensely at her. "Do you hate me now?"
"I-I," she began, pausing to wipe the tear that clung to Kakashi's eye lash. "I don't have you. I-I love – loved – Obito, too, and he'll always be in my heart, just as you will."
The honesty of her belated confession was surprising to both of them. Rin knew she loved him as a teammate and a friend (but then, why did her heart swell painfully when she thought of him now, in a romantic sense?), but was unwilling to touch upon those buried emotions just yet.
"Rin…" He muttered, returning her gesture and wiping the years that ran freely down her cheeks. "Thank you."
Straightening, he turned to stand beside her, wrapping a secure arm around her shoulder. They stood at the tombstone, staring at Obito's name etched in the marble stone, standing side-by-side, using each other as a support.
"I'm going to be more like him," he promised, breaking the easy silence between them. His words sounded sincere, a determined edge seeping into his tone. "I'm not going to be trash."
Rin glanced at him, letting a small smile dance across her face, the first in what seemed like the longest time. "You never were."
It still hurt – the crushing weight of her loss, the unexpected emotions that he dug up inside of her – wouldn't go away anytime soon. Both she and Kakashi's knew this, and were ready for the up and downs they would undoubtedly endure during the grieving process that was sure to come. But they had each other, and the fond memories of Obito to ground them and give them something to laugh and reminisce about when things got too hard.
Rin was unready to completely admit that Obito was gone, but that didn't mean he was entirely vanished from her life.
She loved him and would keep him in her heart until the day she died.
(The only regret she had was not realizing how much he meant to her until he was gone.)
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note3: i've never seen so many clichés in my life. =O sorry for the angst, but it i really wanted to write a prompt like this.
note4: i had no idea that today was Halloween – so, happy Halloween! i think i'm going to borrow my brother's tux and go as Psy. ^^ please review.