Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Waltz #2 ❯ Chapter 6

6.

 

/Here it is, the revenge to the tune
"You're no good,
You're no good you're no good you're no good"
Can't you tell that it's well understood/

-Elliott Smith

 

Kakashi hadn't meant to disappear, really. At first, sure - he'd thought he needed a day or two to think about what he'd done, what he'd gone and gotten himself into.

 

He left Sasuke sleeping in his bed, naked as the day he came into the world, and headed for the roof. He sat there for a minute, then decided that wasn't quite far enough away. So he ran to the giant cliff-face with his old dead sensei's face carved into it and climbed up to sit on his eyebrow. Years before, Kakashi had determined that the best place to see Konoha was from the Yondaime's left eyebrow, so that's where he sat. He watched the sun rise and replayed the night's events over and over in his mind. He thought about how Sasuke felt in his hands, how his weight felt solid and real on top of him, how he smelled like a real person, not some student that he half-cared about. He thought about the way it felt to have Sasuke between his legs, doing things to him that he hadn't allowed anyone else to do in... well, since Sasuke had returned. He got all his thinking done right there and then decided not to think about it again. He realized that the previous night had freaked him out quite a bit. It'd thrown him off, put something in his gut that fluttered around like a baby bird and made him think strange thoughts.

 

And that was bad. He needed some time away from those feelings, which meant he had to avoid Sasuke for awhile. Which wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world to do considering the kid lived with him and that he'd seemed to enjoy what they'd done last night and would probably want to do it again.

 

But Kakashi felt good about his realization. It made his belly stop jumping and spinning around. He stood up and stretched, resolved that all he needed to do was be a jerk for awhile and Sasuke would realize that any affection he had for him was wasted and that he should look elsewhere. They could stop living together soon, anyway. The Uchiha was adjusting to the new limits on his abilities and he could resume his life, probably pass the Chunnin exam in a few weeks and maybe earn back Tsunade's trust. When Kakashi climbed down from the cliff, he felt much better than when he'd climbed up.

 

But when Tsunade found him and asked him to take on a solo mission that would take him out of Konoha for at least three weeks, he had every intention of saying no. He couldn't leave Sasuke alone for that long. Sure he had to push the Uchiha back to a safe distance, but that didn't mean he could just leave him alone. He was about to say no, when he found his mouth saying “Sure.” Three weeks away ought to do it, he thought. He reminded himself that he was, if nothing else, an excellent shinobi. And if he was anything besides that, he was a bit of an insensitive jerk. So, really, he had to take the mission. He had to leave Sasuke, because that's who he was.

 

But he hadn't meant to disappear for this long. Five weeks today watching the border of Water Country and Mist, cataloging everything the hidden village did, which shinobi went where. They were a sneaky lot, those Mist ninja, but Kakashi knew their story - he'd fought and defeated Zabuza and, inadvertently, Haku.

 

And Kakashi himself was the color of mist. Sometimes, drifting through the marshes, he wondered whether he'd turned into a ghost or whether he existed at all.

 

Five weeks to the day. He realized the Chunnin exams were probably over by now, barring some disaster, which Kakashi would have hopefully known about at this point. The exams were the reason Kakashi was out here, monitoring Mist's movements while many of their shinobi were in Suna for the trials. Because Shino could also vanish easily and because he had thousands of ears at his beck and call, the Aburame was watching the Sound border, though that region's threat level had decreased significantly since Naruto had put an abrupt end to Orochimaru over a year ago. The two of them and a select number of others were watching the borders to ensure that another disaster like the one that had nearly wiped Konoha off the map did not happen again.

 

Both Shikamaru and Ino were examiners this year. Asuma was very proud. He remembered that Naruto was also going for Chunnin this time around. He'd been too busy searching for Sasuke to prepare for the previous exam. He felt a brief pang of regret that he couldn't be there to see his former students pass the exam. He felt certain that Naruto would, and so long as Sasuke wasn't matched against him, he'd probably pass as well. While his chakra was muzzled, his muscles and his mind were not. Kakashi had planned to be there for the final tournament. But he knew Sakura would be there cheering her teammates on. While she may have been the weakest member of the team for a while, she'd always been the heart and therefore the driving force, the leader of the team, more so than Kakashi had ever been. It was right that she was there.

 

They were all adults now, so much older and wiser and stronger than the children they had been. They were no longer his students, though they were not yet his peers. They were different than anyone he'd ever known, young warriors who had a real chance of living past 25. Kakashi had his friends that were his age. He called them friends anyway. Perhaps he was friends with Gai. He indulged in the occasional post-mission fuck with Genma. He talked to Asuma and Iruka sometimes. They'd survived the war as well as the fight that put Kyuubi in Naruto's belly. That was a miracle in itself. But he didn't know of any young people like his three former students. They were the real miracle. Kakashi was in awe of them, even though they'd grown apart, even though Sakura and Naruto no longer spoke to Sasuke. Even though Sakura and Naruto had thrown themselves into their training and didn't have much time for each other either. They were miraculous to Kakashi for the way that they lived, in spite of the potential tragedies they faced nearly every day.

 

Shortly after he'd moved in with Kakashi, Sasuke had asked him, desperate and afraid, how he managed to be strong. Kakashi had been honest, unfortunately, revealing to Sasuke that over the years he'd only adjusted and accepted. All three of his former students grabbed for what they wanted and held it tightly to their chests, defended it with bared teeth. Naruto and Sakura had wanted Sasuke back so, by god, they went to Sound and took him. Sasuke wanted to become the strongest ninja he could, and so he'd trained with one of the most powerful and dangerous shinobi in the world. Naruto wanted to be Hokage; Sakura wanted to be strong for herself and for her team; Sasuke wanted to avenge his clan. While they may not have accomplished it all, they would - Kakashi did not doubt this.

 

His students were miracles. And they made him think of his old, dead team, even though he didn't want to. His team had been miraculous in its own way, but Kakashi had been reckless and careless and they had abandoned him when he was least prepared. Obito - his brother, his other half, everything he wasn't, barely an Uchiha at all. Rin - their heart, talented and generous and not beautiful, but in love with them both nonetheless. And the Fourth - better than Kakashi in every possible way - just more of a person. Kakashi had wanted him, a fierce stabbing, throbbing ache in him that he never allowed out, because the Yondaime was just so much better than him and ten years older and so very out of his league.

 

Then they were all gone - poof! - and there was nothing miraculous about them. There were only dead bodies that didn't look anything like the people they'd been. They abandoned him or he failed them. He wasn't sure whether the distinction really mattered.

 

He had an unflinching faith in his three former students. He didn't question it and he didn't think about it. He didn't mess with it and he tried to keep his nose out of their lives as much as possible because, really, he hadn't contributed much to their success anyway. And with Sasuke, who was so much like him it was frightening, the effort he'd made to help him had only served to put them both in an incredibly vulnerable position. The answer was surely to leave them the hell alone.

 

Kakashi realized he was depressing himself with all this reminiscing. Depression was not a healthy state of mind to be in, especially while on a mission. So, he took the most logical course of action and picked a fight with a bunch of bandits and two low-rank criminals he recognized from the Bingo Book. He found them terrorizing a woman and her two young sons traveling without escort toward the docks that would take them across the water to the Hidden Mist village. With an acute sense of relief, he'd jumped into the fray.

 

Kakashi grinned at the men standing around him, though they of course could not see it. He twirled two kunai on his fingers and wondered about his odds, outnumbered as he was by eight to one. Then he stopped wondering, stopped thinking entirely, as he let his body take over. He kept his Sharingan covered - better to not have these men know who they were up against - and fought with his fists and his blades.

 

And he was brilliant. His body, his weapon, was lithe and so fast that his speed sent a rush of oxygen to his head. It filled him, as it always did, like nothing else ever had in his 31 years. Not even the feel of Sasuke's hands on him, in him, could replace the breathtaking freedom of a good fight, of the headlong rush toward death. Only shinobi could understand the fragile yet aggressive relationship life had with death. Victory was still easy to define: if you live, then you win. But victory wasn't the only thing that mattered for Kakashi. He lived for the delicate line, the blade's edge, between life and death. He lived to push it. This relationship that he had with death, that all shinobi had with it, was the reason that most could never become romantically involved with anyone other than shinobi. It was also the reason shinobi relationships were so fleeting, burning like paper or feathers or pine needles, and then flaring out with just the smallest trace of ash left behind. It was why living with Sasuke and... being with Sasuke was something that just couldn't happen. Sasuke, like his other two team mates, grabbed a hold and clung with all his might to whatever goal he set for himself. It was the reason he was miraculous and it was the reason Kakashi had to stay away.

 

His brain registered that his enemies were drastically reduced. He hadn't killed any of them. They were just jerks, not deserving of death; they were no real threat to him. Only the two in the Bingo Book remained. They looked frightened, and they should. He wiped at a bloody cut on his one visible cheek and again spun a kunai around his finger. His windpipe felt wide open, like he was breathing more oxygen than normal.

 

As he put himself right between the two remaining men, he thought briefly that this wasn't the wisest move, that he should first try to get a sense of the techniques these men possessed before engaging them in a close-range fight, but he needed to up the stakes a bit. So when one of the men got a kunai right in Kakashi's face, he just smirked behind his mask and, quicker than the man could see, had his arm twisted around, the kunai now digging painfully into the man's own shoulder. Kakashi needed to push that edge, even though he had no interest in this fight really, even though it didn't do much to serve his village and nothing for his record. The last man shouted his anger and then with surprising speed of his own, leapt around behind Kakashi, a set of senbon between his knuckles.

 

“What is it with Water Country and their creepy needles?” he muttered. Shoving the first man way, Kakashi was able to dodge the slender darts headed for his throat. He came straight at his last opponent, ducking low and feinting to the right before leaping up and taking hold of the man's collar, arm cocked for a blow that would probably do more damage than was strictly called for. But Kakashi was having a bad day and he needed-

 

His eyes flew wide when the man's open palm came to rest lightly on his chest, an intimate and fearful touch. He looked down, surprised, only to see the man sneering up at him. He flicked his wrist slightly, releasing three spring-loaded senbon into Kakashi's flak jacket. The jackets were thick for a reason and his absorbed a lot of the impact, but the needles still pierced his skin and he felt them grate on his ribs. He hissed and reversed the grip on his kunai, slicing open the man's throat in one brutal stroke. Then he sent a burst of chakra to his feet and got the hell out of there.

 

*

 

He flew through the marshes, barely more than a rustle in the reeds. Ahead of him, on the horizon, he could see the forests of Fire Country. He'd crossed incredible distances in very little time, but he was still at least a day from home. And his lungs burned. His windpipe felt like it was slowly constricting, like the small pockets that held air were getting smaller or crowded out or filled with something else. He pushed his body for home and he knew that the senbon had been poisoned, that he was poisoned. He didn't bother to blame himself for picking a fight with a bunch of bandits and two low-level Bingo Book criminals - he'd leave that part to Tsunade when he got home. He just wanted to make sure he saw home again. He paused, to take a breather, and jam another syringe of anti-toxins into his arm. They'd gotten him this far.

 

As he neared the border of Fire, he noticed that his breath had begun to fog in front of him. He could feel the temperature dropping as he came under the welcoming canopy of trees, but it hadn't dropped enough for him to see his breath, he didn't think. Then, as he paused to rest against a towering tree trunk, he realized that his breath... didn't look normal. He breathed out a thick vapor, and it was vaguely purple. He gripped the bark a little harder. The next breath he took came out an ominous dark purple, the color of thunder clouds. His windpipe finally closed up completely and his knees buckled, dumping him unceremoniously out of the trees and onto the forest floor. By the time he hit the ground, he'd managed to bite his thumb and fumble through the seals he needed to summon Pakkun, and it was with a rather embarrassed shrug that he greeted his sarcastic canine friend. The dog took one look at him, at the discolored patch of cloth over his mouth, and disappeared again. Kakashi could only hope he was headed for Konoha. He fumbled with his first aid kit, dragging out the last anti-toxin injection that would hopefully clear some of the junk from his lungs. He depressed the plunger and after a few tense seconds took a few tremulous breaths. His chest felt frozen and dead. He hoped the injection would be enough to keep him alive until Pakkun returned

 

*

All sense of time vanished and there was only a murky world of half-light. He existed in a fog filled with dangerous vapors and treacherous terrain. It was a nightmare; he thought he knew this. It was created by the poison in his lungs; it was fueled by his oxygen starved mind. He didn't know how long he lay alone. He remembered thinking that the poison hadn't been of much use to the Mist nin who'd used it. He'd still ended up dead; he'd still lost. The poison only worked after the opponent thought he'd won. Kakashi thought he'd won. He may have stumbled or crawled a few steps closer to Konoha or he may have simply laid there until a tender voice and rough hands found him.

 

Those gentle calloused fingers pealed away his mask and touched his chest and blew air into his smothered lungs. Then he felt familiar chakra pressed into him, moving through the poisoned air pockets in his lungs, moving through his throat. He took a shaky breath and opened his eyes to see his old student looking down at him with gentle worried eyes.

 

“I can push enough of the poison out of your lungs for you to be able to get back to Konoha, to get to the hospital. But your condition is advanced and the damage is systemic. Tsunade will need to help me, and you'll need a transfusion for sure. But I can clear the worst.”

 

Kakashi tried to smile up at her, wondering what his lips must look like. As though she'd read his mind, she smiled down at him and boldly wiped her thumb across his lower lip. It came away dark blue. “It's like you've had too many black raspberry sweets.”

 

“That's all,” he rasped. “I've got a tummy ache.”

 

She returned to the task of ridding his lungs of the poison, muttering softly to herself and quietly scolding him over his inclination for lung injuries. He listened to her voice for awhile, sure now that he would live, that once again his brightest student was proving her mettle and would watch over him and bring him home.

 

The next time he awoke, he was in a hospital bed, oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, Sakura slumped in the chair next to his bed. She was snoring softly and her medic uniform was wrinkled with smudges of dark blue across the middle. Kakashi hoped the residue of the poison on that white uniform was inert. Just to be sure, he reached out to her and shook her knee gently. Instantly, she came awake, snorting softly, her somewhat ridiculous cap falling off her head. She blinked a few times and then, seeming to remember where she was, she smiled at Kakashi and moved closer to his bedside.

 

“How do you feel?” she asked.

 

He shrugged, not really sure. She checked his pulse and asked him to breathe in a few times, pressing a stethoscope to his chest. He was very relieved to find out that he could breath in without too much trouble, though his lungs felt like he'd just run a marathon in sub-zero temperatures.

 

“How are you?” he asked hoarsely.

 

She smiled at him the way she usually did, a slight curving of her lips, only at the corners. Not since she was a genin under his care did she smile with her whole face. Kakashi didn't think she was unhappy, but there was sadness there. He thought it was probably called loneliness. He'd have to make Naruto take her out for dinner some time. Or he could have both of his former students over to his place... maybe when Sasuke moved out. He nixed the idea almost immediately. Too much effort, and too large of a chance for emotional wreckage. Team 7 would probably never reunite under one roof again. He realized that she was talking about the chuunin exams and jerked his attention back to their conversation.

 

“Ino and Shikamaru were so funny as examiners, Kakashi. They didn't stop bickering for more than five minutes the whole time. I think Ino was just so thrilled to have passed that she couldn't help but revert to her usual bossy attitude now that she had a modicum of authority. And Shika... it was old hat for him. He overslept two days in a row, and Ino made me go drag him out of bed because she couldn't leave the arena to get him. Or at least she said she couldn't because she was administering soon and was too important to leave. Honestly, it was ridiculous. You know, I think it's so great how she and Chouji got together. Don't you think so, Kakashi? She always wanted Sasuke or Sai or some equally dark, pale handsome shinobi, and she ended up with the kindest, softest, roundest guy in the village. But they're actually really cute together, and even though Shikamaru thinks they're crazy for getting together at all, I think he's actually very happy for them too. It was sweet to watch Chouji rooting for Ino in the stands, even though she wasn't even taking the exam. He just cheered her on anyway way and-”

 

“Sakura,” he interrupted softly.

 

“Hmm?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and pausing for a breath.

 

“What about your team?”

 

She gave that small, sad smile again. “Our team?” she corrected not so subtly. “Oh, Kakashi. They were breathtaking.” And despite her obvious sorrow concerning her team, he could see how proud she was of them. “Naruto got cocky as usual, and he almost lost to this scary guy from Rain, but then Kiba yelled at him from the stands to just try farting again since that had worked so well during the exams back when we were, what, 12? And then, I swear he and Neji looked at each other from across the field and even though there was all that distance between them, it was like they were communicating on some other level. Neji was down with the medics because one of his students had just won her match, though the poor girl was barely able to walk, and so I saw that look, and then I saw him smile - he actually smiled Kakashi - and then Naruto just... well, you know how he can get when he really focuses.”

 

Kakashi nodded. He did know. He thought Sakura was also probably remembering the way Naruto had glowed with the Fox's chakra, the whisker scars cut deep into his cheeks, his clawed fist on fire... just before he'd put it through Orochimaru's chest. “His opponent lived I hope?”

 

She laughed. “Yes, he did, though it'll probably be a few weeks before his shoulder can properly be classified as a ball and socket joint again.” Kakashi huffed a small laugh and waited for her to continue. He didn't want to have to ask about their last team mate. He really didn't. Finally she took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand through pale pink hair. “And Sasuke... he was very angry.”

 

Kakashi frowned. “Angry?”

 

She nodded. “He's been insufferable lately. Not that he'll speak to either Naruto nor I, at all, ever, but he shoved Shikamaru into a wall before the exam started, just for asking him if he was ready, and he nearly bit Neji's head off when he congratulated him for winning his match.”

 

Kakashi shook his head slightly. “Shikamaru could have disqualified him for assaulting an examiner.”

 

She nodded. “That's what Shika told me afterwards. But he said he heeded Sasuke's Talk to Me and I'll Put My Fist Through Your Chest attitude and let it go. That was kinda funny actually. 'His TTMIPMFTC attitude' for short, Shika said. I think it's quite a mouthful, not much easier than just saying-”

 

“So he wasn't disqualified then and he won his match?” Kakashi prompted. Sakura tended to ramble on about her friends when she had the opportunity.

 

“Yes, he did,” she said with a small sigh. “I think those seals around his throat and his temples scared off his opponent. The guy was from Sound and he had some pretty serious techniques he could have used - I'd seen him training - but Sasuke didn't give him a chance. He was ruthless and fearless and just... so very angry.” She looked away and picked at a callous on her palm. “It was pretty disturbing to watch actually. I was worried that his anger would keep him from passing the exam, that Tsunade wouldn't allow him to re-enter Konoha's service because his head was still so... full of... I don't know. But he kept it together and he showed mercy at the end, which no one was expecting, and so he passed.”

 

Kakashi nodded, absorbing everything Sakura had just said, trying to look underneath to see what else he could determine about Sasuke's condition. He wondered if the Uchiha would seek him out now that he'd returned to Konoha. He wondered about his own safety when that happened, how much of that anger would be turned on him. He thought about staying longer in the hospital than was strictly needed just so he could avoid going back to the home he'd been sharing with Sasuke for almost two years.

 

“Kakashi...” He looked up to see Sakura regarding him uncertainly. He raised an eyebrow, inviting her to continue. “I think he took your departure pretty poorly. I heard some rumors and went to your apartment and found that... he pretty much trashed the place. Why would he do something like that?” Kakashi looked up at the ceiling and kept his expression blank, choosing not to answer that. “Naruto and I can help you clean it up, once you're released,” she offered quickly. “It's mostly broken furniture and smashed bowls and glasses. He didn't really make a serious mess.” Kakashi swallowed and nodded.

 

“Thank you. I'm sure I can handle it.”

 

“Maybe a week after you left, Sasuke moved back into the empty Uchiha compound,” she continued, clearly concerned about their former team mate's state of mind. “He's been there for the last four weeks or so. He's like a ghost or a... I don't know, some restless spirit. People see him around, but he doesn't acknowledge anyone. And Naruto says he sits on your roof at night time, staring at his new chuunin vest - just, you know, sitting and looking at it, not putting it on or anything, and-”

 

“Thank you, Sakura. I get the picture.”

 

She shut her mouth with a snap and looked down at the floor. “He's a wreck, Kakashi. And there's absolutely nothing I can do to help him.” She looked up at him, green eyes very sad. He knew her heart twisted with something akin to jealousy that, since Sasuke's return from sound, Kakashi was only person able to communicate with him - to reach him in any way really. Her heart broke for Sasuke and it broke for her own inability to be what he needed. “It's good that you're back,” she said, her voice low but still sharp. Then she got up, squeezed his shoulder once and walked out of his room.

 

Kakashi turned his eyes toward the window and then removed the oxygen mask, trying out his lungs and finding that they functioned well enough without the forced air. His insides squirmed unpleasantly at the thought of Sakura knowing what she knew about Sasuke, not just because Sasuke would be humiliated to know that someone he considered to be weaker than him knew about his own terrible weakness, but because Kakashi felt on an instinctive level that he had to protect Sasuke from the rest of the village and especially from his well-meaning friends. They didn't need to know of the constant war he waged with his unstable mind and his muzzled body. Sasuke had lived with Kakashi for so long because neither of them wanted the rest of Konoha to see that war. But now many had seen it, and they could see him, drifting about the village like some lost soul. This knowledge was difficult for him to bear, difficult for him to even process, and so he chose not to for the moment, rolling on to his side and letting himself sink back into fuzzy, fitful sleep.