Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Gentle Lesson: The Restoration of the Hatake ❯ Healing Before The Storm ( Chapter 15 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Warning: SEVERE angst! M/M. NON-CON! DISCUSSION of TORTURE, SEXUAL ASSAULT! SWEARING! And some violence… I think…
Pairing: Yukio/Kakashi, Sakura/Kakashi.

Where to go?


They were everywhere. The faces of his past. His father stood there, proud and tall, in the main street, overshadowed by the large Missions building and the Academy. The red reminded him of blood.


Kakashi turned and ran in the opposite direction – darting from rooftop to rooftop in an insane effort to leave it all behind.


“Where are you going? Why are you leaving me Kakashi?” whispered a gentle voice.


It was Rin sitting in her favorite spot on the railings of the hospital.


No. No. Don’t even go there.


Don’t.


The memories gushed in as he turned away – staggering from pain and fatigue.


Rin in his arms looking up as life left her lungs. Blood leaking out of the corners of her mouth and the edges of her eyes. He knew what was happening – what happened: a jutsu which had liquidated her entire insides. She was feeling nothing now – there was nothing inside her. He was holding a dead human doll – the person who had loved him above all – and he couldn’t even return one feeling.


Obito’s eye looked down on her and cried. Obito could see the crushed, irreparable chakra pathways – he was the one who cared most about her.


“It’s the way things are,” Sensei said softly, not attempting to budge Kakashi, as he held his dead teammate. “It’s okay, Kakashi, it’s okay to cry.”


But Kakashi couldn’t, so Obito cried more.


“If I had –“
“Don’t regret anything,” his sensei corrected. “I live with loss, with memory, with mistakes. But no regrets. When I die –“


Kakashi turned away, shutting his eyes against the words and the thoughts.


He opened them to find himself near his parent’s graves. It was right that he should be here tonight. This was the night of ghosts. Still… of all the people he had seen, her face wasn’t there among them.


Papa.


I can’t remember.


I can’t remember her face. It’s blurry.


You’ll remember the one you truly love, Kakashi. You’ll never forget.


He thought hard, but either it was because of his fatigue, or his pain, he could feel nothing. He could see nothing.


Then –


Pink hair, green eyes and a bright smile. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a loud voice. Black hair, black eyes and determination.


Pink hair – his blurry vision – found his mother’s grave.


Pink hair.


It was another phantom.


“Why is it you?”


Sakura turned.


Kakashi fell to his knees and collapsed against the tombstone. Sakura was too stunned to realize it – to say anything.


Kakashi-sensei.


He is HERE.


Just as I thought…


Just as you hoped –


Sakura’s mind left that thought and jumped to the next conclusion.


He’s injured. He needs medical care immediately. Thank Kami he came here…


Pulling out her everlasting, ever present medical kit, Sakura laid out her supplies and started to tally up the damage.


Wheezing… broken ribs… I won’t be able to take the mask off… but… I can see that the glove has to go – he’s been cut badly… and the shirt for the ribs… And he’s really twitchy… As if he were more animal than…


Humming a soft lullaby, Sakura’s voice soothed the shivers and quaking, until Kakashi calmed down.


Barely even touching his skin, she unzipped his vest, sliced open his shirt and his glove and removed the tourniquet to apply a cleaner one to his upper arm. Laying her slim hands on his shoulder, ignoring his unconsciously desperate attempts to move, she gently inserted her chakra into his skin, focusing on the cut and on his damaged chakra paths. Immediately he relaxed, sensing that she meant no harm.


Fifteen minutes later, the damage to the arm had been contained. Still humming, she moved her hands to his chest and ribs. Her eyes welled up with tears as she noticed the various pale scars that littered his torso – the more recent bruises and cuts – and the obvious swelling from badly broken ribs.


He’s really gotten built. Kind of –


She blushed.


Really, Sakura. At a time like this! Still….


She sighed, as her other hand, traced his face – and his eyelids fluttered open, hazily.


“Wha-“
His fingers flexed, and slowly he became more aware of what happened.
“Why’re you… here?”


Sakura wisely didn’t answer. She merely hummed as she completed her work on his ribs. Leaning back, the pink-haired Jounin perused him, noting how skinny he had gotten – there was only lean muscle to be found on this ANBU.


He was too pale. Too thin. Too worn. Too fatigued.


And his eyes say –


Too frightened. Too lonely. Too wild.


“Mother used to sing that.”


Mother.
Pushing him on the swing.
Calling him in for dinner.
Trying to lean down to pick up his toy.
Waddling off to the store, while Father tried to stop her.


“Why are we moving?”
“For you.”


He ran to his mom and gave her a hug. Her hands were warm as they surrounded him – he looked up. But her face was a blur.


He inched himself up into a sitting position and bent his head, hoping that his phantom-come-real wouldn’t see.


It’s okay, Kakashi-kun, it’s okay to cry.


No.


His tensed his shoulders so she couldn’t see his tears.


Then he felt her soft hand brush against his shoulder – then, move lower to give him a comforting pat and a squeeze. It was then that she recognized the slight tremors for what it was.


She leaned forward then, quickly to surround him. For a moment, Sakura wished she had all the power in the world to comfort him – to protect him from whoever would hurt him. Ignoring the smell of sweat and blood on him, the gentle-hearted medic buried her face into his bushy, dirty mane and pushed all of her love out from her heart, down her arms and into his body.


I don’t want to let him go.


At first, there was no response on his part, and then slowly, he sank into her warmth. It was a gentle fire – a soft light seemed to surround her. For that second, he cherished it in her arms.


Eventually she had to let go.


I can’t help him now. It’ll take time. We have to part some time – if only this moment could last forever…


“I miss you,” she said softly.


Even then, he didn’t meet her eyes; his fists clenched again – the muscles in his arms jumped.


“I’m sorry, “ he said hoarsely.


She nodded, rose and left, at first, trying to battle her tears while walking at a measured pace. Then, the tears broke loose – and she ran with them – shaking as she sobbed out her heart.


I feel so helpless. His heart is the dark – when I held him, I felt that pull. That pit. That neediness. Like the evening. How can I bring light to such a person?


See how they shine
When you need a friend


Watching his old student leave, Kakashi felt colder than ever.


I never knew such warmth – why does the light have to leave with them? Why am I always here alone?


His eyes dropped to the tomb – newly cleared, with fresh food set out, flowers and some candles.


Why was she here – today of all days?


Haltingly, he raised his hands to trace the sunken letters.


Hatake Sakumo. Hatake Hanako. Hatake Ryo.


Father. Mother. Brother.


With her gone, the guilt, the shame – the regrets – washed in and drowned him.


When she got home, Sakura realized she had forgotten about meeting with Sasuke and Naruto. For a moment, she considered going out to find them – but then, looking up at the pale moon and the dark sky, let melancholia sweep over her.


No.


This is a night for grief.


Sasuke rose from his kneeling position at the shrine – it was time to get to the bar – he was already two hours late. Once there, he found a very drunken group of Jounin. Genma had fallen asleep in the arms of Raido, Ibiki was escorting his lady friend out. Nobody was in the mood for talking.


But no Naruto (although he had apparently left in a hurry). And no Sakura (never showed). He shrugged and left almost immediately.


Fifteen minutes later, he was on the other side of Konoha in the Club – the regular hanging spot for the next generation of Jounin. Kotetsu and Izumo had gate crashed – bringing beer and a funny story about Shizune with them.


Naruto was on the dance floor, slow dancing with Hinata. Sasuke said nothing but watched them from the shadows. He understood. Naruto’s eyes said it all.


Worry. Anxiety.


We need to live life – or else we’re the walking dead. To walk in the light. To make memories – to find love – to kindle the fire of Leaf.


“Sasuke-san,” a young Jounin girl in uniform smiled. “Wanna dance?”
He didn’t wait to say yes.


Just as he was about to rise from his knees, he heard the slight rustle of grass and the smell of ramen behind him.


“Sorry. It’s cold. I had a hard time finding you.”


Kakashi didn’t reply.


“Here.”


The silver-haired Jounin looked down to find the round ramen container in his hand. For the first time in a long time. With a smile, he generated a little bit of chakra, gently heating the broth up – careful to keep the carton from burning away.


“Neat trick,” Yukio smiled. “You gotta teach me that one!”


It was empty. Once again, Kakashi felt the cold fingers of fatigue brushing against his brain.


If only – if only she were –


He steered his mind away from such dangerous thoughts.


From lack of yearning came lack of hurting. Besides. Monsters. No. Uncaring idiots like me don’t deserve that.


No. It was empty. Not the smile, but the bowl. He stashed it away in the bag Yukio had and looked up into the burning dark eyes of his on/off teammate.


“I saw that.”
“Saw what?” asked Kakashi, tiredly.
“That pink-haired chick. Who is she?”
“Nobody.”
“Nobody? She looked like somebody to me.””Leave it.”
“Leave it? Leave it? As if!”
“Yukio. It’s nothing. I’m going home.”


Before Kakashi could even get up, Yukio pinned him against the stone slab disregarding the candles and the food. Sakura’s offering rolled everywhere – the candles snuffed out –


It is so dark.
So cold.


Without you here.


I deserve this.


And as Yukio yanked down Kakashi’s mask to claim his mouth – bruisingly, terrifyingly strong – the Copy Nin only gave token resistance. New bruises formed on his thin wrists where Yukio’s rough hands gripped him.


I deserve this – not you.


Yukio’s face and body blocked out the moon – everything was dark. Dark. Hot. Wretched and filthy.


It was pain and loneliness. Nobody heard anything – there was nothing to hear.


I can’t even cry.


Sakura watched the round pale face pass through the sky – then, bent her head down and closed her eyes to the memories.


What can I do?


I will lay me down.