Chapter 83!
Title: 'Manipulations and Moments: Part 2'
Note: Second half of the update!
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
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He watched as she walked away.
His mind felt blank, but it was more like white noise… all his thoughts were too loud, clashing together until they washed each other out.
He couldn't sort out what he was actually thinking… what he was feeling.
He couldn't be sure of anything right now, not with the state of his mind being as disorganized as it was, but he was almost completely sure she had just admitted to not having a relationship with Iruka….
Even though he had been so sure… even though he had been told again and again, even by the man she had been accused of being with, that the rumors, and his fears, were true… the moment she said that, he believed her.
He couldn't understand where it came from… that trust.
He was never a person to earn trust from easily. He trusted his team more than others, he was sure of that, but the trust he suddenly realized he felt in Sakura… he couldn't remember the last time he felt that kind of trust.
But beyond that, he felt something else in the short moments he spent watching her walk away.
He was rushed by a sudden wave of relief and hope. He felt as if the world between himself and Sakura had shrunk, that whatever had separated them before had been moved, even if he knew there had more than Iruka between them before… but this relief wasn't the highlight of his thoughts in that moment.
Right then, although a part of him celebrated, he could only be overwhelmed by her words.
'If you were really that worried, if you really cared enough, about me and my 'choices' you would've known which were the ones I actually made for myself.'
His thoughts couldn't stay still when his mind repeated them, he still couldn't figure out what he was feeling.
But he knew he didn't like this.
He knew this couldn't be the end of tonight.
He couldn't let her walk away believing in her words, the way he almost did.
His legs felt heavy, like he couldn't move them fast enough after her, and yet he reached her all too soon. Too soon to keep himself from saying exactly what he had planned not to.
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I almost didn't hear his footsteps.
If this had been a few months ago, before I had gotten so familiar with his presence, I'm sure I wouldn't have. But even though I had a moment's head notice, and even though I had that moment to feel the happiness I didn't know was possible, knowing he didn't want to leave everything like this either, that moment was quickly exchanged for the next.
In the next moment I was just about to turn around and face him, to call his name and listen to anything he had to say with anticipation.
But I didn't turn around. Something stopped me:
a hand finding my right arm.
His fingers curled carefully around the front of my upper arm.
My thoughts stuttered. I had forgotten what his hand felt like until now. Even though I suddenly regretted having a sweater on, and therefore not being able to feel his skin, I still recognized the shape and strength of that hand as well as I knew my own.
I would have savored the feeling of his casual touch, knowing it could be some of my only contact with him for another long while, if my brain wasn't already bouncing in my head trying to figure out why his hand would be there.
Why would he touch me, even if it was something as simple as this?
Why was his voice even softer, and even more serious, than I had heard it in so long?
"You don't know…" I could already feel my breath hitch in my throat. I recognized that tone, but I almost convinced myself it was impossible to be hearing it was from him again until he continued, "You have no idea how much I worry about you." His grip on my arm loosened, as if he was having second thoughts about touching me. I wished he would just listen to his first thoughts. "You have no idea how much I care about…." He trailed off.
A moment of quiet passed before my shell-shocked brain finally computed his words and what they meant.
Even though I had been a stone since he had started talking, I suddenly felt as if I was even less able to move now.
I couldn't think of moving. Not my body to turn around to look at him, not my lips to ask him what exactly his words meant. I struggled even to blink.
My whole body was so uncertain, so unsure of what was going on to let itself react to anything. I had stolen away any piece of real hope from myself for too long, thinking it would help me cope; my body couldn't handle the sudden overload of it. I couldn't move. But I had to.
I had to move.
I had to say something!
I couldn't waste another second in this state of shock. If I didn't say something now… if I didn't take advantage of what this situation could possibly mean –my mind reeled as the possibilities flashed through my brain faster than any other thoughts it must've been controlling, including the stimuli making my heart keep up its now almost painfully fast pace- then I was going to lose it. I was going to lose whatever this meant forever if I didn't do something right now!
I willed myself with more strength than I have ever used to simply think of these words and pronounce them. These words were the only ones I could think of, the only ones that would demand the clearest explanation for what he just said to me, and they were just simple enough that my voice didn't reflect just how stone-stiff my jaw was.
"'As my captain?'..."
… The silence that followed my question could have been only a few milliseconds, it could have been a full minute, all I knew what that the paralysis on my body was getting better and worse as time ticked by. With every instance of time I could feel the hope paralyzing my nerves weaken its hold as it started to die away and be replaced by the sluggish, and equally paralyzing, gravity of fear.
What if I was mistaken?
I was suddenly so afraid that I had said something wrong in those three words, or that I hadn't had heard him right. I would have even been afraid that he wasn't actually standing just behind me if I still wasn't so aware of his motionless hand on my arm.
The heavy fear bit into my stomach with merciless strength when I suddenly felt the hand on my arm slide down to my wrist slowly before stopping and gripping a little tightly. My heart stuttered in it's almost already frantic pace when I could actually feel his fingertips on me. My ribcage echoed with my heart's thuds as his fingers tightened even more around my wrist.
That slight hiccup in my chest woke me up a little.
"What are you doing?" I was surprised at how clearly I could ask that.
He didn't answer me until he was already walking ahead of me, his hand still closed around my wrist, making me follow after him. The hope in me, unable to paralyze my legs which were willingly following after him as he walked towards the darkened buildings down the street, filled my chest with those sparking, electric, butterflies that had buzzed through my insides every time he had grabbed me like this before.
But the butterflies, as they were, were short-lived. In only a manner of seconds they would turn into the gnawing creatures of confusion and worry that had plagued me for so long already… after he said:
"Something that feels familiar."
My previously frantically sluggish brain was now jolted into a new pace of slow and fast thoughts colliding and combining at dangerous speeds, but out of all the thought-collisions that resulted from what he just said there was one thing I could figure out for sure:
He knew more than I thought he did.
He had to know something.
There's no way he would have said that if he didn't know something about… us.
Is that even possible?
Could this really be happening?
Could he actually know something?
I needed to know.
I needed to know what he knew.
I need to know!
"You… What do you know?" I tried to talk coherently, it was really working. I was too caught up in so many different thoughts (What's going on? Where was he taking me? Why? What is he thinking? What is he feeling? Why? What does he know? Does he remember anything? What does he remember? How could he? Why didn't he tell me? How long has he known what he knows? What am I supposed to do?). I had to narrow it down to the most important question I could think of.
I watched the back of his shoulders like I used to whenever he led me places like this, but the happiness from before had been completely replaced by the dread all those questions gave me.
I blinked hard, my cold, wind-stung, eyes watering a little. A part of me trusted that he wouldn't let me trip or lead me into something while I had to close my eyes for a moment of sorting everything out. If I had been at all more focused on what was happening I would have noticed that he was turning the corner, and if I had realized that I would have been able to keep the shock of my back bumping against the dark wall of a building from interrupting my important question:
"Do you remem-" My words stopped as I realized my feet had stopped and my thoughts cleared a little when his hand left my wrist.
I only had a short second to look around to recognize where we were at, which wasn't long enough since the buildings were only black silhouettes against the purple night sky –tonight's alarm required a village-wide blackout till morning in case there was any more trouble-, unable to be distinguished in the second it took until I was distracted by the man who led me here.
I looked up to him as he took a step closer to me –my heart speeding up again with his closeness, like a homing beacon connected to him- it was almost too dark to see his masked face.
I was about to open my mouth to try and ask my question again, but his voice interrupted me.
"They'll be looking for me soon. This should buy me a few minutes." He almost sounded out of breath. I had always loved his voice like that.
I almost got sidetracked and asked was he was talking about, but I decided it wasn't as nearly as important as what I had to ask. I tried to speak up again, but he only continued.
"I don't know why, but it seemed like the right thing to do." He explained himself out of context, as if he was only thinking out loud, but I could tell he was probably talking about the fact he had brought us here… wherever it may be.
I realized after a second that that was already something of an answer to my question.
He must not remember everything…
If he had no other reason to lead me here than it just 'seeming like the right thing'… then… he doesn't remember everything….
I was so relieved and completely disappointed at the same time.
But I didn't let that stop me from quickly asking my question.
"Whatdoyouremember?" I managed to choke it out, the words coming too fast so that it just sounded like a jumble of syllables.
There was a moment of quiet between us… us, the two quiet dark figures just feet away from each other around the side of a dark building.
I cringed after that moment, ready to repeat my question like an idiot.
But my face fell into an expression of shock when I realized I didn't have to.
"… Some visuals…" His voiced answered, less hindered by his breathing, from the darkness.
He sounded more serious than before.
My heart jumped in my chest before I could even understand those two words.
I looked up at him, my eyes probably wide and full with the nervous hope that had previously paralyzed me. I couldn't even think of saying anything until he said more.
"Some sounds…" he added, my heart only worked harder to keep up with how nervous my body was getting, "… but mostly feelings…."
I wanted to say something. To do something.
This was too much.
Knowing he knew… he knew something… something… but what?
I had to know!
I could feel a shiver shake through my torso as my anxiety grew… I tried to take a deep breath, to calm myself, but I still couldn't think of talking.
I hadn't noticed until the moment I was about to breath out, as I had been staring up at him unblinkingly, that his hand had gotten so close to the side of my cheek, I almost choked on the air.
His hand hovered over the side of my face.
"… textures…." He added mysteriously, his tone even warmer than before.
I didn't know how cold the night was until I swore I could feel the heat of his fingertips radiate from his skin, through the centimeters of space between us, and gently warm my cheek. Even though I hadn't looked away from his masked face, I could still see those fingertips slide in the air just beside my face, as if he was touching me. I wished he had been.
I could feel my breathing pick up in only the anticipation of feeling the skin of his hand against me again, waiting for the heat of his skin... but it never came.
"… I remember just enough to know you left out a few details about… our recent missions..."
His hand moved away from me just as the tone of his voice grew a little colder with that sentence.
And just like that… I understood his words… I understood what he was saying.
He knew.
He knew.
He knew.
He knew.
He knew.
My mind couldn't say anything else for what seemed an eternity.
All I could think about was the fact that even though I had thought he was clueless, even though I thought he couldn't remember anything about us… he knew.
He knew.
He knew what I had been hiding.
My eyes widened when that thought led to the next:
He knew that I was hiding it from him.
I suddenly felt a stab of guilt slide through my chest with much more intensity than I could understand, I wasn't even sure why for a few seconds, but I could understand from his voice, his hand, and just the way his posture seemed to drop a little when he last spoke that I had done something very wrong to him.
But my brain didn't accept it.
Out of everything I had to push something out of my focus…. I needed to stay here; I needed to think about what was happening right in front of me… I could think about all that later.
I would figure everything I did wrong out later… but I still needed to know more right now. I needed to make sure this conversation was really happening… that he was really saying this… that he really knew about us… even if just a little. But, most importantly, that he knew about us and was still talking to me.
He knew… and he was still here.
He wasn't pretending it never happened, he wasn't saying to forget it… at least he hasn't, yet.
But whatever his future plans for this was I needed to know more about what he knew and what he was thinking now.
"How… long have you…?" I didn't know how difficult it would be to speak again. I was still in shock. I had been praying for this for days and this moment was here and I almost can't believe it. Then again, this moment was definitely not what I had expected.
I was going to try and finish my question, but he didn't wait for it. He leaned forward, his hand resting on the wall behind me. My hands suddenly felt so restless by my sides. He was so close. I wanted to touch him. I hadn't been this close to him, I hadn't been this close to getting him back, as I was right now. This felt like the last 10 feet before the finish mark of a race, so close but even further away than the start line.
I was distracted from the tingles in my arms and the slight light-headedness I was getting when he broke the silence.
"It could just be brain damage, right?"
The tone of his voice turned back to 'normal', but it was a warped form of 'normal'… as if he was only being sarcastic.
I couldn't make sense of that at first. I had barely been able to compute the moment as it was, let alnoe apply the concept of sarcasm to it. It took me a moment to realize he meant that his memories, or whatever he remembered about us, could have been just some kind of side effect of his injuries, of the overdose. I knew he wasn't serious, I knew he was only saying that for my reaction, but I was still too sensitive to hold back the reaction.
"N-n-" I stuttered, unable to think of anything other than 'no' to say, and even then, I couldn't even finish the single syllable after he leaned down just a little more. The side of his face only centimeters from my own.
"Tell me." He said in my ear, his voice serious again, sending a chill through my torso that I had forgotten felt like. "Was it real?" He asked.
I wanted to say something, but I was almost drunk off his closeness. I could only think of leaning my face towards his, just to feel his cheek graze against mine, but he moved.
He leaned away before speaking up again.
"Tell me it was real." And just like that… I could hear the truth in his voice.
I could tell… other's probably wouldn't have been able to hear it… but I heard, in his voice, that he was asking me to admit it.
He was actually just as… desperate as I was to hear the truth.
To hear me say it the same way I wanted to hear him say it.
If I had even less control over myself at that moment I would have smiled at just how similar we had become.
If I had become more like him, or he had become more like me, I couldn't tell.
But I hoped we had just met in the middle somewhere.
I gained back my senses after that thought, my mind cleared a bit. I swallowed, about to tell him everything I could until I noticed he pushed himself away from the wall, his arm falling back to his side. I watched him as he straightened his posture. I was almost a little confused by how distracted he had suddenly become until I realized it myself. Someone was heading this way.
"Kakashi-san."
I hadn't noticed until that voice spoke that Kakashi was already around the corner to greet the owner of that anonymous voice. I had forgotten how quickly he could move.
From the sound of the voice it sounded like one of the Hokage's men, a bodyguard. I leaned against the wall, trying to even out my thoughts and breathing, listening.
"Yes?" Kakashi asked, I wondered if the other man could recognize how Kakashi's professional tone usually overcompensated when he has to act official after being so… personal just moments earlier.
Or maybe it was just me.
I fought back something like a smile at the realization that this was really happening… whatever this was. Of course I could tell there was still something keeping Kakashi distant from me, and he couldn't remember much, and that this must all be very strange for him… but this was the end of the secrets between us.
Whatever happens now, even if it ends up badly, at least we'll both know the truth.
Something about that was comforting.
One of the biggest emotional hurdles I had had to deal with this past week was the knowledge that if Kakashi never remembered, I would be the only one to carry on these memories… of us together… and after years went by, would they have meant anything?
It would have been as though none of it had ever happened.
At least this way… we had existed… for the both of us.
"The Hokage needs you, it's urgent." I tuned back into the conversation just in time to catch the main message.
"I understand. I'll meet her in a minute." Kakashi answered. I could hear in his tone that he would have rather not have gotten the Hokage's call. I felt that assuming that had anything to do with me was still assuming too much. Things were better now, if only just because we both knew what we now knew, but we still aren't anything like we used to be… if we're going to be anything.
The thought that this new situation between me and Kakashi might end the way it had started deflated my heart more than a little.
The sound of a whoosh later I turned the corner.
"Kakashi-" I called him, feeling like something of an intruder when I saw him standing there, deep in thought.
"I have to go." He summarized briefly, looking to me. I could recognize that serious look of his instantly. Something important was happening. "We need to talk about this later." He took a step closer to me, a part of me was happy he would still take time to think about us even though we're on such unsure ground right now. "Is there a place we can meet?"
I smiled before answering briefly.
"The bridge."
I could see the answer surprise him for a moment before he understood and nodded. I knew he'd understand, even now.… He had been the one who picked the bridge for us in the beginning.
He looked up at the sky, probably checking the how late/early it was.
"Before dawn." He said shortly, the same way he had addressed the messenger just now.
I nodded stiffly, trying to understand why he'd be so cold right now, but that was before he sighed a little. He turned to face me completely, taking a step closer.
I thought I could see a tremor in his arm, like he was just about to reach out to me but stopped himself short of it. I wished he hadn't.
"I should be able to see you before dawn." He said slowly, his voice carefully soft.
I smiled weakly.
"I'll be waiting." I answered, nodding slowly again.
He turned away from me, but paused for a moment. He looked back at me.
"Don't look so worried." He told me, just as he had more than a few times before whenever we've had to part like this.
I laughed a little. I didn't mean to sound as sad as I did. I just couldn't help but wonder whether or not he could ever understand how important all my memories with him were.
If he'll ever think they were as important, too.
He smiled at my laugh, looked away, and he was gone.
I was alone on the dark street again.
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Everything was so simple… and so complicated.
We both understood there was so much to work through from now on… and even though I had no idea what he felt about me and what we've put each other through recently, I still had found this strange foundation of contentment in just knowing that this wasn't the end.
We were finally going to start to work things out.
I hoped that things didn't fall apart this time.
I had to make sure I didn't let them.
I started walking up the street again. I needed to get home to check on my parents, take a shower… and then go to the bridge to wait for him.
Just like before….
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And that's that for now.
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