"She's never coming back, is she?" Yumi asked her father.
Kakashi set down the spoon and looked at the twenty-year-old. "I don't know. Sakura just always do what she thinks is best."
Yumi sighed, a mixture of sadness and understanding in her grey eyes. "I wish she could have stayed. It's been so long since we were a family." She trained her grey eyes to her father. "Well, maybe she stayed if you didn't hurt her in the first place, Pa."
"What do you mean?"
"I was ten back then but I'm not stupid." She said. "I saw the purple bruises that you gave her. I heard every confrontation and fight that you two had. I was a child, not imbecile." She accused her father.
Kakashi's gaze softened, guilt flickering in his eyes. "Yumi, I... I didn't handle things well back then. I was under a lot of pressure, and I let it consume me. I never meant to hurt your mother. Back then, she's the most important person to me. But I was so angry, so angry that I wasn't able to control myself. I regret the choices I made."
Yumi nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I know, Pa. But it's not just about back then. Even when she came back repeatedly for you, you pushed her away. Maybe if you had let her in, things would be different now." She really wished that everything was different. "You know, I remember Mama said to me once, 'don't hate your father, I was the reason he's not here'." She trained her eyes in her father's impassive face. "Maybe she's right. Twelve years ago, it was her fault. But since you drove her away, its not hers anymore. Its yours, you're the one who can't let go of the past."
Kakashi sighed, his gaze dropping. "I know, Yumi. I've carried the weight of my mistakes for a long time. It's just... complicated."
She stared at Kakashi, her eyes are unforgiving. "I thought after all you've done, she'll hate you. I understand if she curses your very name, Pa. After all, you hurt her physically and emotionally. I know I hated you for that." Her eyes softened as she saw her father look at her with alarm. "But when I saw her earlier, it was evident in her eyes that she still cares for you. She still loves you, Pa. But you, I don't know. I don't think you really know how to love. Because if you do, you won't hurt her. You won't dare to hurt even the ends of her hair."
Kakashi sat in silence, absorbing the weight of Yumi's words. His gaze remained fixed on the table, the guilt and regret for his past actions etched on his face. Yumi's honesty had pierced through the stoic exterior he often wore.
Kakashi sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. "I messed up, Yumi. I let my pride and pain cloud my judgment. Your mother deserved better, and so did you. I can't change the past."
"I know, and you were too late to realize what she really meant to you." She finished her dinner, collected her plates, and stood up. "I just wish you were a better man back then, Pa. She really does love you. Even though I can't understand why due to all the things you did to her and the age difference. If I don't know better, I would think you preyed on her."
Kakashi watched Yumi leave the dining area, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. The truth in her words pierced through his defenses, and he was left with a profound sense of regret.
As Yumi disappeared from view, Kakashi found himself alone in the quiet house. The flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced across the walls, mirroring the complex emotions swirling within him.
He couldn't shake the memories of Sakura bruised because of him, of her standing outside his house, repeatedly seeking a chance to mend the broken bonds. The pain he had caused her, the rejection she faced time and again, all echoed in his conscience.
Deep down, he knew Yumi was right. He had let his pride and pain dictate his actions, pushing away the one person who had once meant everything to him. The wounds he inflicted on Sakura were not just physical; they ran deeper, leaving scars on their shared history.
As he sat in the dimly lit room, Kakashi reflected on the choices that led to this moment. The emptiness in his heart, the absence of the family he had once cherished, weighed heavily on him. He realized that, in his attempt to shield himself from the turmoil, he had lost something precious.