Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Waltz #2 ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter 1.

 

“Here today,

Expected to stay

On and on and on

I'm tired. I'm tired.”

- Elliot Smith

 

 

Kakashi let himself sag into his kitchen chair, the first sagging he'd done in what felt like years. He set his ANBU mask on his kitchen table and stared at it. Then, he pushed it further away from him and rested his head on his forearms. Oh, right. The guards on his arms were still gummy with other peoples' blood, and now it was on his forehead. Sighing softly, he tugged off the guards and his gloves, then made a cursory swipe at his head with surprisingly clean fingers. Again he rested his head on his arms and took a few deep breaths. He was too old for this shit; he was too tired, and he was still too fucking human to handle the kind of violence required of him and his students and his friends. But no, that was wrong. He could handle it; he'd been handling it since he was, what, 6? He just couldn't do this all the time, again and again. For the same people. He'd figured his ancient, 30-year-old heart had been worn down to a walnut-sized, hard-as-a-rock piece of nothing, but, no, his old heart could still be torn and shredded and crushed and then somehow resuscitated and massaged back to life.

 

He tallied up the score again, just to keep his brain lurching forward for a few more minutes before he allowed sleep to creep over his muscles. He should drink some water before he went to bed; he should send a message to Gai and Iruka, let them know he was okay. He should get himself out of this uniform. But first he needed to remind himself that they'd won. He counted their numbers again. Tsunade, Jiraiya, Neji, Naruto, Sakura and himself. So few against the most powerful shinobi in the world. And they had won. But at what price?

 

Jiraiya's back broken, spinal cord severed, paralyzed, Tsunade too spent to heal him before permanent damage was done. When he woke, if he did, the sannin would most likely ask for death. And he would most likely be granted that request. After all, he spent his life fighting and killing for this village; the least he could receive in return was the decision over his own death.

 

Tsunade, down for the count until her chakra replenished itself. Now for the first time since she'd assumed the role of Hokage, she lay in a hospital bed as an old woman, wrinkled and thin, but still strong. Asleep. Shizune would handle her duties until she woke up.

 

Naruto, also on his back, the fox asleep deep inside him. Without the demon's healing abilities, the boy would have to heal like every other shinobi, with the strength of his own chakra and blood cells and bone marrow. But, gods, what a sight he'd been before some special Sound jutsu lulled his demon to sleep. He'd been on fire, the Fox's chakra licking at his skin and singeing his clothing and lending the fist that he put through Orochimaru's chest the power of a comet. The old snake never stood a chance against that kind of power, that kind of undiluted rage and passion and love. Naruto hadn't killed Orochimaru out of hatred; he'd done it out of love for Sasuke. Perhaps one day, the Uchiha brat would see that.

 

Sakura, probably home by now, curled up in bed, hiding her wounds from her family, knowing they'd demand her resignation from Konoha's service if they saw what that poisoned kunai had done to her. Kakashi knew. He was the only one who knew. He'd killed the Sound nin who struck her. But first, he'd watched helplessly as the blade sliced her chest, scraping along her ribs, just shallow enough to avoid her left lung. But she'd gone down screaming. Further up the mountain, Naruto and Tsunade heard it, but Kakashi had gotten to her first. Her old teacher had neatly sliced off the head of her attacker and then pulled his old student tightly against him and moved them to the shelter of a rock overhang. She screamed and cried into his chest, saying that her blood was freezing, that it burned. He'd pushed his ANBU mask up on his head and he'd kissed her temple and whispered nothing in particular into her ear as his hand ignited with a simple fire jutsu. She'd looked at him, the whites of her eyes large and gasped out, “I trust you, Kakashi,” the first she'd ever called him by just his name. And he placed his hand over her ruined breast and burned the poison out of her. After that he cut off the rest of her shirt, bound her chest securely in the roles of bandages she carried in her med kit and then returned to the fight. She did too, though she was smart enough to stick close to Neji, knowing that she'd get picked off easily on her own, wounded and poisoned. But she fought until the end, until there was no one left to fight, and Kakashi had never been so proud her.

 

Neji, also in ANBU uniform, stuck close Sasuke's disturbingly still body, guarding their charge - the reason they were on this hunk of rock in the first place - with the graceful and effortless skill that Neji did pretty much everything. When Sakura had stumbled over to him, he'd widened his defenses and protected them both. Neji was not hurt during the fight. He let no one touch him or his charge. Neji was a rare and beautiful fighter, but Kakashi knew that, fighting on that day, Neji was very sad. He didn't know why exactly, but he had his suspicions when he saw the Hyuuga sitting by Naruto's side in the hospital, pale fingers close but not quite touching the unconscious boy's hand.

 

And Sasuke, the final mark of their victory over Sound. The Uchiha was unconscious, sedated and bound in the psych ward, under heavy guard. After he got some sleep, Kakashi would go there to take over for one of those guards. Shizune had decided that more than just hospital security would be needed should the Uchiha decide he wanted to be free of his room. So, tonight, a bitterly complaining Genma and a stoic Shino stood by his door, ready to act at their discretion. This meant they could kill Sasuke if they were properly provoked. Kakashi didn't think Sasuke was going anywhere. Kakashi thought that Sasuke's brain was already half dead, that Orochimaru's body-snatching, whatever the fuck it was, had already started eating away at his soul and that the boy had partially snapped before Naruto had shown up, all righteous burning fury. The fox's fury had only been fueled by the sight that greeted him: his best friend barely conscious, convulsing on the ground, bleeding from his nose and ears, trying to blind himself in a last-ditch effort to make his body undesirable for the sannin who so desperately wanted it.

 

A fresh wave of nausea swept over Kakashi at the thought of it. The rest of them had arrived on Naruto's heals and through the slit eyes of his mask Kakashi had seen what'd become of his star pupil, the boy he'd devoted his time and his talent to, the boy he'd aided in his quest for revenge, the boy he'd failed.

 

Kakashi grunted as he got to his feet and trudged toward his bathroom, stripping as he went. When the Third had assigned him Team 7, Kakashi had taken on the task with weary disinterest, the manner in which he took on most tasks. But failure had never once been an option for him. Kakashi did not fail; others around him failed; his peers and his friends and his family died around him. But Kakashi did not fail. His success got annoying after awhile in its repetition, its security. Team 7 was to be further evidence of his abilities, Sasuke his crowning achievement. But, it turned out that Kakashi had avoided teaching for a reason - he didn't have the foggiest idea how to do it. And one by one, he'd failed his students: Sakura first and most often because he didn't know how to engage her ache for Sasuke or her constant battle with weakness. He didn't know how to teach her, she who knew everything about the shinobi code, but whose body and heart were not yet responsive to the demands placed upon them. Naruto next because he could not give the boy the kind of attention he needed to truly develop his talents. Attention and caring were... messy and difficult. Sasuke finally and completely because he'd assumed that Sasuke was like him and would respond to events the same way Kakashi had. And the Uchiha was like him, in a way, in terms of talent and body type and smarts. But where Kakashi was only hollowed out from loss, Sasuke was twisted with it. Kakashi didn't care much for anything or anyone; Sasuke could only care for one thing. Kakashi had not understood that; he hadn't understood much of anything in terms of his students and so he'd failed them all.

 

***

Kakashi walked through the silent halls of the psych ward, not looking left or right, not really wanting to catch a glimpse of who else was in here. He didn't want to know that sort of thing. He kept his eyes on the two guards slouched outside Sasuke's room. Genma leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling, spitting out his senbon and then catching it in his teeth. Shino stood a bit straighter, one hand held up to his face, his shaded eyes presumably tracking the progress of a lone bug as it crawled from one knuckle to the next.

 

“Yo,” he called as he approached. They both glanced over at him without interest, though he could see Genma giving him the standard “so you're back from a dangerous mission in one piece?” once-over. Kakashi would never tell any of his friends, but he appreciated it.

 

Genma, apparently satisfied, stretched and yawned. “Finally. Damn, Kakashi, I was getting real tired of chatty-chan over here. He hasn't shut up since we got here six hours ago.” Genma looked over at Shino, who was still staring at his knuckles and snorted. Shino's mouth twitched but otherwise he didn't reply.

 

Kakashi shrugged. “Is someone else coming?”

 

Genma yawned again. “Yeah, Shizune said she'd come by to check on him.”

 

Kakashi nodded. “Alright then, see you both later.” And without another word or gesture in their direction, he opened the door to Sasuke's room and walked inside, closing it behind him. He swallowed hard and for the billionth time was grateful for his mask and crooked hitai-ate. Even though the only person who might see him had bandages over his eyes, Kakashi could feel his own haggard expression. He wanted no one else to know of it. He walked across the sterile tile floor and to the boy's bedside. He was surprised to see blinded eyes following his movements, albeit a bit sluggishly.

 

“Who's there?” His voice was soft and barely slurred. Apparently that sedative didn't last long. Kakashi didn't stop at the bed but kept going until he reached the barred window. He looked out at the sky and told himself he wasn't afraid to pull up a chair and sit by his former student, the traitor of Konoha. He told himself he just needed to feel the sun on his face for a moment.

 

“It's me,” he said wearily.

 

“Who's me?” came the faint reply. Kakashi turned sharply, eyes narrowed. The boy had turned his face away and was tugging weakly at his restraints. “I'm me,” he said softly. “Me, just me... in my head. Not... not him, or him, or him. Just quiet and dark... weak and slippery.”

 

Kakashi looked back out the widow and rubbed his hand in his eye.

 

“Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you.” Kakashi flinched - actually flinched - and looked back to find white bandages staring at him. “You think you know what's in my head. You don't know... you don't know. You think he's still here, but he's gone. Finally. I was so... I hated him and he wouldn't leave. But then he did and my chest...” He tried to touch his chest, but the straps holding his wrists wouldn't let him. “It hurt like fire... and orange... And it's just me; I swear it's me. And... who are you? ...Naruto?”

Kakashi ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “No. Kakashi.”

 

Sasuke's head darted from side to side, searching, seeking him out, though he only stood a few paces away. “No, he's not here.”

 

Kakashi smirked behind his mask. “I'm afraid I am.”

 

“No, he's...” A long pause and then a slow shaky breath. “Sensei?”

 

“Yes,” he murmured.

 

Sasuke swallowed with effort, and Kakashi knew he was dehydrated. He pored a glass of water from a jug on the floor and approached his former student's bed.

The boy followed his movements exactly and suddenly scowled. “Fuck you.”

 

Kakashi smiled and took a seat.