On his way back from the memorial, he found Gai. It was before dawn, before the sky turned red like freshly spilled blood, and they'd have to live another day with their memories locked up in their hearts.
It was winter. The world was white and looked pure, all its secrets buried under an impeccable white cover.
It was in the small hours when no one was awake, no one but assassins and new parents. When the whole country seemed to sleep like the dead, Kakashi decided to take a shortcut across training ground one, where, three life times ago, Team Yellow Flash was born.
He was at the edge of the field – the wide, sheer endless field, Konoha's biggest training ground, his hands in his pockets and his thoughts on his heart and the ghosts that lived in there.
And he saw someone out in the field, at its centre, a black silhouette outlined against the night sky and the white snow.
Kakashi stopped and watched.
What he saw was a man, tall and broad shouldered and painfully familiar, going through his kata. Kakashi recognized the style immediately; it was Konoha's one and only Gentle Fist, but the style and the user didn't seem to fit together.
Kakashi approached slowly, carefully, as if the man was a wild animal that might get spooked if he was alerted to Kakashi's presence.
The snow creaked under his feet, and the man, Gai, froze.
But only for a heartbeat.
Then he resumed his slow, deliberate training.
Kakashi stopped a few feet from him, watching the mesmerizing movements of his friend's body, watching the bright white snow settle in his friend's black hair.
Gai's stance was low, knees bent; he was leading with his left arm and leg.
Kakashi knew the style wasn't Gai's; he was not a member of the Hyuuga clan; he couldn't use the Juuken the way it was supposed to be used, in combination with perfectly timed and calibrated chakra pulses, but he could perform the moves gracefully with more speed and precision than even the likes of Hyuuga Hiashi.
Gai's face was completely relaxed, his eyes closed. Despite the icy temperatures, sweat gleamed on his skin.
In the pale moonlight, Kakashi watched Gai perform a sequence of palm strikes. He watched the snowflakes melt on Gai's cheek, in the corner of his eye, like tears.
It felt like they were the last people in the whole world. The white field seemed to stretch into eternity; no living thing anywhere else, no warmth left in this pure, cold world except for heat of their two bodies.
As the cold crept in, slowing seeping through the fabric of his clothes, slowly crawling into his bones, Kakashi shoved his hands into his pockets, bracing himself for his vigil, because there were no footprints leading to Gai.
Because it looked like Gai had dropped down onto the immaculate snow from the sky, which meant that his footprints had already been covered by new snow, which meant that Gai had been here for hours.
Remembering.
When you failed to protect someone, you carried that wound for the rest of your life. That was the way it was for Kakashi at least, and there were days when it felt like his heart was so covered in scars, it hurt with every beat.
Maybe it wasn't that different for Gai, only he remembered with his body. He couldn't stand in front of the memorial counting his regrets, doing penance for hours. That wasn't who he was.
But he lived and breathed taijutsu, and while he had a bad memory when it came to faces, while, soon enough, to many, Neji would only be a faint memory, a pale boy in a fading picture, just another branch member of the Hyuuga clan, Gai would never forget him. His body would forever remember the way Neji used to fight, the intricate details of every little one of his movements, the way Neji's personality and his body had influenced his fighting style, had given it personality, his personality.
Someone like Kakashi, a Sharingan user, could have copied Neji's style in a heartbeat, literally within the blink of an eye. Gai, however, had learnt it over years, he'd watched it develop, fought it, shaped it himself.
Kakashi knew he was intruding; he had no place here in this intimate moment, but Gai hadn't stopped, and it seemed like he wanted Kakashi to be a part of this, wanted to share.
They differed in this, too. Kakashi stood at the memorial alone, always alone, but if Gai wanted him here, then he wouldn't leave.
He would bear the cold and keep watch for Gai's sake and for Neji's.