Fix You Chapter 11: Monster, a naruto fanfic

Monster.
How should I feel?
Creatures lie here.
Looking through the window...

That night he caged her.
Bruised and broke her.
He struggled closer.
Then he stole her.
Violet wrists and then her ankles.
Silent Pain.
Then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams.

-Monster by Meg & Dia

Pain.

There were many different kinds of pain and so many different ways to feel it. Physical pain, depending on severity and type, felt internal. A paper-cut, when noticed, felt like a prick or a sting. A gash on your knee from when you tripped had a slight burning sensation. A broken rib made it hard to breathe and felt like something inside you was leaking some corrosive agent and neurological pain felt like molten lead was coursing through your system.

Emotional pain had its own feel as well. Depression made you feel like something or someone dragged your insides through a puddle of mud. Frustration made you feel like you were going to explode. Anguish made it feel like you were thrown into the ocean in the middle of a storm. Heartbreak felt like someone was stabbing you in the heart before it became a dull ache and betrayal…felt like heartbreak, but not quite it. Betrayal went as deep as heartbreak, but burrowed even further. The feeling would spread through your chest, leaving your limbs cold as fire seared every cell and organelle in your body, constricting your airways and suffocating you until you were so disoriented, you felt like crying because you didn't know what to do anymore, but…Kakashi was always told that pain was superficial—that didn't exist for a shinobi…

…so what was he feeling then? This muddled feeling?

He felt sharp stabbing pains that penetrated his rib cage repeatedly and made breathing impossible. He felt cold and hot at the same time. His body felt like he had just walked on glass, but he didn't remember walking barefoot near any broken bottles and…what was this? This feeling of abject misery and the strange sensation that with every stab made to his heart, it was being wrenched in place, twisting the arteries as his heart beat steadily, still doing its job of pumping blood while it lay skewered on whatever was prodding the muscle.

He laughed bitterly, the sound rich, but still managing to have the quality of nails on a chalkboard. He smiled to himself. Shinobi were not supposed to betray emotions. They did not feel emotions. They did not feel pain.

So what could he call the sensation in his body?

Eyes rolled back into his head as a primal groan left his lips. Pleasure was rocketing through his system and he laughed aloud, deliriously drunk on whatever was giving him such euphoria.

It felt wonderful. He could only compare it to flying, moving without boundaries and restrictions. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this good. Like he was going to just burst out and shout to the world. He didn't know what he would say, but he knew it wouldn't compare to what he was feeling now.

Nothing could compare to this.

Warmth flooded his system as the feeling increased tenfold. His breath caught in his throat as he reveled in this beautiful feeling. Whatever it was, he never wanted to end, pleading to whoever was up there that this feeling wouldn't end. The sensation of warmth and delightful tingling sent pulses of electricity rocketing between his neurons and made a pleasured cry fall from his lips.

Warmth was pooling under his fingers as well. Something was slipping down his face; he could feel it rub against the bridge of his nose. He reached up to pull it from his face.

He could see now.

He felt cold metal and warm cotton pressed into the palm of his hand. Turning the object that lay in his hands, he watched as the unknown light source bounced of the metal plate that rested on his hand and traced the insignia engraved into the metal. He recognized it instantly. It was a leaf village hitai-ate, but why was it slashed?

A small whimper was heard from beneath him and he looked down to see a person beneath him, their back to him as their face turned to the side, their breathing shallow and he began to notice things he had not seen before. The collection of mirrors surrounding the two of them, the moonlight that seemed to enter the room from absolutely nowhere, the stench of sex and blood, the deep bruising on the person's pale skin, and ends of pastel pink hair.

Kakashi's eyes widened in horror as he recognized the person that lay beneath him. He gently shook her shoulder. "Sakura?" he asked in a whisper and quickly removed his hand from her as she flinched and cried out, weakly trying to shy away from him as the sounds of her muffled sobbing reached his ears. A voice whispered in his ears.

"You raped her."

"I-I didn't know," he pleaded and inwardly winced at the weakness in his voice. He sounded like a helpless teenager accused of murder, not the man he knew himself as.

"Liar!" another voice shouted.

"I'm not lying!" he shouted back defensively as he tried with whatever reason he had left to try and remember how he got here.

"He says he's not lying," a third voice said.

"But you liked it all the same," the second voice hissed venomously and he held his tongue, knowing if he said anything else, he would be flat-out lying. He did enjoy it and it sickened him to his core.

"Did you like her screams?" questioned the first voice, curiosity in his tone.

"What?"

"Or her moans?" asked the third voice, just as curious as the first.

"Huh?"

"Pedophile! You've been after her since she was a genin!"

"What? No!" he shouted in alarm. The female voice disappeared, but the two male voices replaced her.

"Was she tight?" the third voice asked.

"What? Why are you asking me these things?" he asked in return, looking around confusedly as his hands held his head, as if to catch his slipping sanity and keep the thoughts in his head from spilling out.

"How wet was she?" the first voice queried.

"Stop it."

"Do you think she would do me too?" the first voice asked.

"Stop it…"

"No, I think you'd have to be her teacher, but let's ask him. Would she?" ventured the third voice.

"Stop."

"Freak!" screeched the second voice and it was like he could see who she was, but he knew these voices were faceless, but his imagination ran wild, inventing faces for these figures. The first voice was brown-haired and brown-eyed and was young. The third voice was a blonde male with amber eyes and a face of sixteen and the second voice was a woman with black hair and pale skin. She had ruby lips and obsidian eyes. Eyes wild with a seething hatred aimed at him.

"Stop," he demanded, knuckles white and jaw tightly clenched.

"No. You…you sick man," she said glaring spitefully at him.

"Shut up."

"No…you're not a man. You're lower than a man, lower than a dog. You're nothing."

"Shut…up."

"You sicko—you're a freak! Going around and raping women and that little whore of yours is no different!"

"Shut. Up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" he shouted, teeth gnashing as he pounded his white-knuckled fists against his temples, hoping he would soon lose consciousness, but it caused him nothing but pain, but it was nothing compared to the words leaking into his ear.

As quickly as they arrived, the voices disappeared, a single voice replacing them all. Fingers closed about his shoulders as a voice whispered in his ear.

"How does it feel…to know you're exactly like me?"

Kakashi looked up in alarm and clambered away from the mirror, his heart hammering against his chest as he remembered the true meaning of fear.

"No…you're lying! I'll never be like you!"

The voice chuckled deeply; amused by how deep the thought seemed to disgust him and more intriguingly…instill fear within the Copy Nin's heart.

"See for yourself."

And Kakashi looked up to face the mirror, but what he saw in the mirror's reflection shocked him. Blonde hair and blue eyes set inside a tan face weathered by the elements. A hand rose to hesitantly touch his cheek in disbelief before looking down at it and failing to stop the bile from rising up his stomach and leaving his mouth.

Convulsions wracked his body and he doubled over, blood mixing with his vomit as he clawed at himself, trying to remove Isao's image from his body as he tore his skin and red liquid oozed out. Even when silver hair drooped over his red iris and his skin was pale once more, he did not stop. He could still feel him on him—in him, like Isao had wormed his way under his skin and sat inside him, laughing…watching.

Red lines marred his pale skin as blood oozed from his wounds and he collapsed by Sakura's feet, spent of his energy as the feelings of guilt and self-loathing wrapped around him. He shivered, whether from exhaustion or the fact he could still feel Isao on him, he did not know.

The room was quiet, the light reflecting off the mirrors illuminating their rising and falling backs as Sakura cried into the soiled white sheets and Kakashi panted heavily, the blood oozing from his wounds and seeping into the fabric beneath him, but he could still see him in the mirror—hear him—feel him as a series of words were repeated in his mind as if a whisper carried on the wind.

'Did you like it?'

Kakashi woke with a start, lungs gasping for air as he sat up, shuriken duvet pooled around his waist and hand moving steadily to cover his rapidly beating heart. Slowly, his hand moved up to gently brush against the skin around his mouth, smooth to the touch. He held his hands to the pre-dawn light, laughing aloud as he wriggled his fingers and found they were his own.

"It was so real. That I had become Isao, it was so real," he said holding a hand over his body, not noticing his hands were shaking. Then again, his entire body was trembling as well.

Warmth trickled down his forearms and he glanced down, watching as ruby-red droplets fell onto his white sheets. He touched their origin and his eye twitched slightly as a small shock of pain reached his brain. Blood. He had been bleeding. Lifting his arms up for inspection, he realized more blood was on his upper arms and right shoulder. Looking at his fingernails, he realized he had been clawing at himself in his sleep.

'Have I really been that afraid? Am I really that scared of becoming…like him?'

He stood and walked into his bathroom, returning to the chair in his bedroom as he disinfected his scratches and bandaged his wounds. As he twirled the gauze around his arms, his gaze flicked to the bed covered in blood.

Blood.

Pupils dilated as Kakashi reached for his throat, the roll of gauze falling from his fingertips and unraveling as it traveled across the hardwood floor. Air, he couldn't breathe. The stench of blood was everywhere and his lids closed of their own accord as he coughed violently, tremors racking his chest as he bent over in the chair, clear saliva trickling onto the floor and shining in the moonlight.

Opening his eyes, he flicked his gaze up, trying to find something to concentrate on to keep the pain at bay when he saw her, hair fanned out over her shoulders as cuts, both shallow and deep marred her body and the blood seeping from her wounds painted her skin, the scent of sex and jasmine wreathing his mind.

He doubled over once more as the coughing seemed to worsen. He clutched his sides as pain etched its way into the muscles surrounding his abdomen. Shutting his eyes to block out the pain, it only brought images of her and he couldn't stop his stomach contents from falling to the floor with a sickening splash. Dully, he dragged the back of his hand to wipe the acid from his mouth and spat out the remainders of the horrid taste.

Kakashi looked down at his vomit with a mild curiosity before letting his head fall over the back of the chair and raked a hand through his hair. This was becoming a nuisance. It wasn't that he was sick, or rather, not in the traditional sense. It was his nerves, tattered and frayed as the paranoia and sleep-deprivation from his dreams seeped into the cracks of his armor.

Though he seemed fine by day, it was by night that he shed his defenses. He had never done it before—life as a shinobi taught him to be constantly on-guard, but now…now he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He could barely keep himself awake in the mornings and the talk of the village and images of his dreams began to weigh heavily on his shoulders. A fear that he had never known began to manifest itself in ways that made himself want to tear his heart from his chest, if only to stop the voices.

But…he learned things that he hadn't known before. He learned how to fear, how to be wary, who his friends and enemies were, how to get used to the attacks, what his limits were, how it was to be human and not shinobi, how deeply he could hurt and how deeply he could hurt another.

Another blink and another gaze towards the bed and he could see her once more. The pain from his coughing fit had begun to fade, but he could feel his heart thump against his chest once more.

And when the air in his apartment became too stifling, he grabbed his vest and hitai-ate and tugged the neck of his undershirt to cover the lower portion of his face before dashing out of his window, the light of dawn just peaking over the horizon.

Sakura smiled to herself as she saw the sun shine that morning. It was a refreshing change from the grey skies that had inhabited Konoha for the past few weeks. The sun had become a rare commodity for the hidden village and she was planning on spending the day well.

Strolling through the village, she waved at the people she passed. They waved back and she smiled at the calm that was returning to the village. It was strange. The village was like an extension of her own body. Just as the calm was returning to the village, the calm was returning to her as well. Her nightmares were becoming less and less frequent and the days were becoming brighter like her smile, but maybe she was being self-absorbed.

She walked quietly, humming a small tune to herself as she dodged a group of children playing tag in the streets, giggling as she heard the yells of an angry cart owner shouting things like 'hooligans' and 'watch where you're going!'

Slowly, the sounds began to fade and became replaced by other sounds. A bird's song, the buzz of a hummingbird's wings, the chirp of an insect, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the grass blowing from atop the hill, and the soothing sounds of the river and the calm wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

"You raped her."

"I didn't know."

"Pedophile! You've been after her since she was a genin!"

"What? No!"

"You sicko—you're a freak! Going around and raping women and that little whore of yours is no different!"

"Stop!"

"Kakashi!"

He woke up, startled, and looked around wildly. Where was he? In a tree? Why was he in a tree? Was this where he stopped when he stopped running?

"—sei , are you alright?"

He looked up, startled to find green eyes peering into his own. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Sorry, Sakura. I wasn't paying attention. What were you saying?"

"I was asking if you were alright. You were talking in your sleep," she told him, her face fraught with worry. It had been a week since she last saw him and for her to find him in a state of terror when she saw him again, it disturbed her. She furrowed her brows in concern. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Kakashi looked up, as if to tell her something, but quickly withdrew into himself. "It's nothing," he said quietly.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Kakashi flinched at her tone. "Yes…I'm sure," he answered, head bowed and shoulders slumped in a silent defeat, but this seemed to escape Sakura. At least, he thought it did because after she nodded, she looked at him and said, "Well, if you ever want to tell me, you know you're always welcome to," and beamed him a smile.

It was slightly forced, he could see that as clear as day. He remembered a time that when she smiled at him, it wasn't forced at all. It was bright and full of the exuberance he remembered her showing. This smile was nothing but a cheap imitation and it hurt to see it…but it hurt even more to know he was the cause.

He watched as she sat in front of him a few feet away, sharing his branch. The wind was blowing her hair, making it gently waft around her in the wind as she kicked her legs and hummed to herself.

Her body was tense and it was clear she was still uneasy about being near him, but that came as no surprise. What did come as a surprise was the fact that when she caught him observing her, she smiled at him with a hint of what he remembered and awkwardly smiled back. The action hurt his jaw muscles after having to force them into the expression and he probably looked like an idiot, but he felt slightly better. It wasn't a vast improvement, but he did feel a bit better. Maybe he should smile more. If she helped him, he might be able to get better and the thought warmed his heart a bit more.

But they were drawn from the moment as Sakura's watch went off. She looked down in surprise and looked back apologetically. "Sorry Kakashi, but I have to get back to the hospital. Isn't it great? I'm working again."

He moved his head to nod and let his eye crinkle to convey he was happy for her. He had to be; she was getting her life back.

She stood, brushing the flecks of bark that stuck to her clothing before turning to him. "Remember, if you ever want to talk, you're always welcome to."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said quietly, but it was a bit louder and brighter than before and she smiled at that.

"Well, I'll see you later, Kakashi-sensei!"

He nodded to himself when he caught the last part of her sentence. "Sakura, I don't think it's a good idea if you keep calling…me…that…"

But she was already in the field below running towards the village and he sighed to himself. She really shouldn't keep calling him 'sensei.' Not only was he no longer her teacher, but he wasn't worthy of the respect the title commanded. He wasn't worthy of it before and he certainly wasn't worthy of it now. Not after what he did to her.

He stared into the treetops surrounding him, watching the sunlight bounce off the leaves and he had to wonder when the sun had appeared. As he watched the light dance over the leaves, a plethora of greens and yellows washing over his eyes in the brilliance of the day, he found his mind replaying her words.

"Well, if you ever want to tell me, you know you're always welcome to."

Could he really come to her with his problems? Tell her about his dreams and ask for someone to help him. For her to help him?

"You raped her."

"I didn't know."

"Pedophile! You've been after her since she was a genin!"

"What? No!"

"You sicko—you're a freak! Going around and raping women and that little whore of yours is no different!"

"Stop!"

He turned his head, guilt weighing heavily over his head like the blade of the guillotine. How could he ask that of her? How could he ask her to help him after what he did? He raped her and she wants to help him. It was insane, ludicrous, absurd to a degree that it sickened him, but it was what he wanted. He wanted her help because she would understand his pain.

And he let his shoulder slump and his head sink into his hands. He was becoming what he feared. He was turning…into him. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't be able to stop. He would become him and devour. He would devour and burn and rape and kill everything in his path and he would still lust for more. He shouldn't be wanting her help. He should have been distancing himself away from her as much as possible to spare her the pain, and selfishly, his own grief, but he couldn't. He wanted her help because she would be able to help him and understand him and tell him everything would be okay. That there was nothing to be afraid of, that he wouldn't turn into Isao, and that everything would be okay, but a dark chuckle rang in the back of his mind that made his blood run cold and he let his face fall into his upturned hands as he whispered to himself.

"I'm a monster…"