Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Gentle Lesson: The Restoration of the Hatake ❯ Dark Memories ( Chapter 1 )

I do not own Naruto… much less Kakashi… sigh…

 

Gentle Lesson: The Restoration of the Hatake

 

 

Dark Memories

 

 

Her life had been so different from his. He could see it in the carefully placed photos on the walls - pictures of her, smiling as she was cuddled by (he presumed) her mother, overshadowed by her doting father. He could see it in the way toys lay strewn across her room - dolls, building blocks, tiny castles and a miniature wood horse that she loved to ride on. He could see it in the closets and dressers full of lace, colorful cottons and expensively embroidered silk.

Her life had been so different from his.

Had been.

 

 

She lay now, deathly still, on her small bed, a picture of serenity and innocence. Deathly still….

Dead.

 

 

Objectively, he knew that there should be something stirring in his chest - but only felt relief that the suffocation had worked - that there was no blood to erase with difficulty.

 

 

In the blue moonlight, she looked so natural - her lips and face, blue, did not seem out of place.

 

 

Her father, a lord from Earth, financing an army of ninjas to harass Leaf for Sound, would, Kakashi thought, get the point.

You hurt us, we hurt you.

 

 

As ANBU, Kakashi rarely knew the `why' - but this time the dots had been connected and a dark part of him seemed to find a morbid satisfaction in causing Rock-nins pain and humiliation.

 

 

That's for you, Obito.

 

 

But as he looked down on her, he was so aware of what he missed - that in her short span of life, she had known what he had undeniably wished for - love, acceptance, peace, stability.

Although, here he was alive.

And she was not.

 

 

And that counts for something, right?

Right?

No.

 

 

Years later, he still agreed.

 

 

Living is over-rated.

 

 

What use is life without a heart?

 

 

He knew that such an organ of tenderness existed - but it was a weakness he could not afford to acknowledge.

 

 

So long ago - it seemed so long ago - he thought he had found himself again.

The three faces that had slowly - day after day - brought a sense of hope.

Perhaps it had been in their eyes.

Their dreams and ambitions - however positive or negative - had been unbroken.

 

 

He should have told them.

 

 

As he looked down at the girl-child.

 

 

I should have told them - along with my wise words on misusing jutsus or the importance of teamwork - that disillusionment was the work of time.

 

 

And time was the inevitable turning of the wheel of life.

 

 

Suddenly, as if he walked out of the room - as if he jumped out of the window of the dojo - he didn't remember doing so - he found himself in the forest.

 

 

The face he looked down upon was a ghost of long ago.

 

 

From her lips trickled two thin streams of blood. Her hair artistically spread over the bright green leaves (which reminded him so sharply of what he lost: life) seemed so vibrant - her open eyes - a brilliant green , which still seemed to say `friend', even though her lips and hands had endeavored to betray him.

Beside her, lay her cracked white mask - a silent symbol in and of itself. Further away, her broken katana lay.

It was Lin.

His ANBU teammate. His backup. His saviour. His betrayer.

 

 

She was so lovely - a picture of innocence and stilled strength.

One moment before she had been swinging her katana at him - repeating her earth prison technique in a desperate attempt to trap him and take him prisoner and prize to her real masters.

She hadn't been fast enough. Smart enough. Powerful enough.

Brutal enough.

Hard hearted enough.

 

 

His chidori sliced though the rising wall of earth, cut her blade in half and buried painfully into her belly.

Agonizingly.

 

 

Gutted, she fell forward as he stood there motionless - emotionless.

 

 

“Why?” They always asked that.

 

 

Why?

Why, Kakashi? Why?

 

 

The haunting words froze on her lips as she fell sideways, dead.

 

 

He had felt nothing.

 

 

Just as he felt nothing now and he could hear the faraway echoes of his father and his sensei.

 

 

“We're so proud of you.”

 

Their faces wavered and faded into dark.

 

 

Kakashi's eyes flew open.

 

 

Black.

With shifting greens and greys.

 

 

Leaves overhead. Symbols of growth.

The love of Konoha.

 

 

Never was I more aware….

 

 

He watched blue-white pearls as they gathered on the green and slowly fell in drrrriiiiiip, driiiiiipppp drops.

 

 

They fell, catalogued, foreseen - predicted - by his every watchful Sharingan.

 

 

It was raining. The soft shhhhhhh of the rain had woken him from his uneasy dreams.

 

 

Rain did that to him.

After all, the melancholy of earth seemed to press down on him - even he who had no feelings.

 

 

The hunter could hear it in the song of the pitter-patter.

 

 

Kakashi reached up slowly - in need. In that rush of the moment to FEEL.

Slippery beneath his grasp, the mask rose away, exposing his pale skin, his scarred eye - the hidden perfections and imperfections.

An elusive memory slipped past.

 

 

Somebody.

`What're you hiding that for?”

No.

Too fuzzy.

“What the hell did you cover up that for?”

The memory flared into focus before disappearing. All Kakashi remembered was perfect teeth clamping down on a senbon.

 

 

Senbon.

With effort he recalled a long-forgotten name.

Genma.

 

 

It had been so long since he had last seen the Jounin examiner.

 

 

Last he heard, Genma, like all the rest of Konoha's Jounin, had been sent to the frontlines.

 

 

Even now, a year after the end of the war, burdened with missions (due to lack of ANBU shinobi), Kakashi still wasn't sure who had survived the terrible war which had been waged with Sound for over four years.

 

 

Five years total since he'd seen his - team. If they still could be called that. His team. No doubt they would be Jounin senseis in their own right.

 

 

Sakura - the strong willed girl who had learned to use her control to give her greater strength.

 

 

Sasuke - the vengeful brooding boy who learned to live for something other than revenge, despite the suspicions of Konoha.

 

 

Kakashi had returned with Naruto and Sakura to Konoha that bright day.

 

 

With their teammate.

As they had all vowed.

 

 

It seemed like an age ago.

 

 

And rumors - he was not sure on how factual they were - said that Orochimaru had been brought down by his…. Proud team. That upon the fields of battle, the twelve Jounin teammates - all geniuses in their rights…

 

 

I can't remember their names….

 

 

They had all proved themselves worthy shinobi of Konoha, while Kakashi -

 

 

No.

 

 

To be honest, it was all due to Naruto.

 

 

Naruto - the boisterous, surprising ninja with the power of the Kyuubi, who's life had the impact of one who changed lives constantly.

 

 

Blonde, pink, black.

 

 

Kakashi turned his mind away. It was best not to think of these things. His mind stashed away the memories as it had been doing for the last five years.

Shutting his eyes, he savored the cold feel of the rain on his cheeks.

 

 

False tears.

 

 

It was all I can give.