Shiryoku Ochikochi no Ritoku Ushinau
Title: Shiryoku Ochikochi no Ritoku Ushinau
Rating: T
Obligatory Disclaimer: Characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto. Writing belongs to me. Includes slight angst and a bit of psychological trauma.
Summary: To lose one thing is to lose many, but there is no loss without gain. Kakashi's outlook will be forever changed.
Notes: The title roughly translates to "Losing Sight of, to Gain Perspective". Written for the KakaIru Winter Exchange Fest! I regret that it isn't longer, but I tried my best with the prompt despite having a difficult time. And a HUGE thank-you to Beasiesgal for betaing!
Kakashi came awake to a merciless throbbing in his left eye; a clear sign of Sharingan overuse and chakra exhaustion. His limbs felt more like lead weights and his throat was uncomfortably dry. At the very least, he thought, his mask was in place and he was in mostly-familiar territory. The hospital. Well, that wouldn't be the case for long. Not if he had a say in the matter.
"Kakashi-san!"
Groaning, the jounin opened his good eye to stare at the room's other occupant balefully. He hadn't expected a visitor at his bedside, for the simple reason that he'd never had any for so long. Iruka's face came into view and Kakashi's gaze lingered on the other man's eyes. Worried. Tired. Frightened. Slightly red-rimmed, Kakashi mused, and frowned at the dark circles. "You look like shit, sensei."
Iruka made a noncommittal noise and ran a hand through his hair, which was tied in a looser ponytail than usual. "Yeah, well..." he trailed off, frown deepening. It was then that Kakashi noticed the bruises and bandaging the chuunin was sporting, and how Iruka was desperately trying to reign in his chakra. It wasn't working very well; tension was coming off of him in waves. It set Kakashi's own senses on edge.
"You can stop worrying, Iruka," Kakashi tried to dredge up a grin, but it came out more like a pained grimace. "I'm fine, alright?" His left eye hurt like hell, but then, it almost always did. Even more so after missions. Always when he woke up in a hospital.
Kakashi had expected Iruka to give a nervous chuckle, or at the very least, a small smile of relief. What he hadn't expected was for the chuunin to bite his lip and wring his hands, seemingly growing tenser by the second. He looked like he had something to say, so the jounin just looked at him expectantly. Probably about to launch into some long, loud lecture about recklessness, Kakashi thought. Then again, he'd much rather be getting it from Iruka than Tsunade.
Iruka surprised him again when the chuunin sat down, very suddenly, at the edge of the bed. "What exactly do you remember, Kakashi-san..." The chuunin's tone was very even; much too quiet compared to the sensei's normal speaking voice. It made the hairs on Kakashi's neck prick slightly. Something was wrong. Off. Twice, Iruka had used honorifics with him; something the man only did anymore when he was very, very nervous, or in public.
Kakashi sighed quietly, reaching out a hand to grip Iruka's own. It was shaking, even as the jounin squeezed it in reassurance. "I remember jumping in front of you," the jounin said, hanging his head tiredly. "And taking out that bastard." He looked up again, visible eye fierce. His head ached at the memory. Kakashi raised up his free hand to rub at the Sharingan, only to find it tightly bandaged. "And then it went black," he muttered.
"You shouldn't have done it," Iruka mumbled, looking miserable and self depreciating. Tiny beads of blood appeared on the chuunin's lower lip, where teeth had finally pierced skin.
"Like hell I was going to let him hurt you, Iruka!" The jounin had known in that second that Iruka had no time to dodge or counter the attack. The Sharingan had spun wildly, and before Kakashi knew it, he'd found himself standing protectively in front of his most precious person, snarling in rage as he launched himself towards the missing nin. There weren't supposed to be missing nin on the mission, Kakashi thought bitterly, but that was life. "Don't you dare tell me you weren't worth it."
Iruka just shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh. "You shouldn't have done it," he repeated, whole body trembling faintly, now.
"Iruka, shh-- I'm fine, love. Really. I'm fine, and you're fine, alright?"
Much to Kakashi's surprise, Iruka suddenly wrenched his hand away from the loose grip, trembling even more. "No," the chuunin choked out. It sounded like a strangled sob. "No, you aren't, and it's all my fault," he said. Iruka looked haunted, eyes full of guilt and sorrow. He brought his hands up to hide his face, slumping slightly.
"I don't--"
"You wasted your Sharingan on me, Kakashi," Iruka muttered, shaking his head. "It wasn't worth it. I'm not worth losing the Sharingan over."
Kakashi felt his stomach drop, every muscle freezing up at once.
~ ~ ~
There was a time when Hatake Kakashi thought the worst thing to happen to him had been to gain the Sharingan. The pain and guilt that had followed the incident had seemed almost unbearable, barely dissipating as years passed. He'd been haunted by the memories of past failures for so long that he'd never expected it to get worse.
He'd been wrong, of course; losing it was much, much worse than what he'd suffered. To have failed Obito a second time... And not just Obito. Not just his Sensei either. No, he'd failed all of Konoha. Failed them when they needed him as the deadly tool he was brought up to be.
He'd failed Iruka, in a roundabout way. Iruka, who'd had such a warm, optimistic disposition, even at the worst of times. Iruka, who'd always managed to push his personal issues aside to help a comrade, a friend, his own lover... Iruka who always had a smile or kind word hidden somewhere, ready to dispatch to someone in need. Kakashi hadn't seen that Iruka for some time.
"Kakashi-san, would you like some water."
Kakashi frowned behind his mask, eyeing the Iruka-imposter warily before giving a short nod. Because this Iruka wasn't his Iruka. Wasn't the perky, mischievous chuunin he'd come to know and love. This Iruka always looked haunted and full of self loathing even when he tried his hardest to put on a cheerful facade. This Iruka never shouted at him or laughed with him or teased him or made enthusiastic noises in bed anymore.
Sighing, Kakashi accepted the proffered glass, ignoring the way Iruka's hand flinched when it brushed against his own. Some days, he couldn't even bear to look the chuunin in the eyes anymore. Because underneath all the guilt, all the self hatred and sorrow, there was still love and devotion, unwavering when Kakashi snapped at him or ignored him completely. Because the other man firmly believed that it was his own entire fault. That he was solely responsible for the loss of Obito's gift and Kakashi's namesake.
It had taken Kakashi some time to understand how much damage had been done to the once bright sensei before he'd even awoken in the hospital. It had taken him failing his psych evaluation and physical for field work because of the fact that losing the sharingan caused hallucinations that had nothing to do with his actual sight, but was instead his own mind working against him. While having the sharingan had always limited his sight until he uncovered it, Kakashi had never had to deal with being completely blind in his left eye. Tsunade had said that sending him out in his current condition was more like ordering his execution.
It was an unexpected blow, suffering the loss of his pride as well as the Sharingan, so that Kakashi hardly knew who he was, on some days. More often than not, he didn't bother to get out of bed; there just weren't any reasons to, lately.
It had taken all of these things happening before he finally noticed, one day, that Iruka walked with a slight limp, and the chuunin's bruises were not healing. Or rather, there were new ones atop the barely healed others. He'd confronted Iruka about it, but the chuunin had brushed it off with a fake smile and an equally false story that made Kakashi want to throw his water glass across the room at the time. There was no way Iruka had accidentally tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs, but Kakashi bit his tongue. He had no energy to argue anymore.
Kakashi refused to believe what his own logic and gut instincts were telling him, at first, unable to handle the reality of it. But, deep down, and as more time passed, he knew. Before the loss of his Sharingan, they'd both known that many people looked down on their relationship. It hadn't mattered, at the time. Still didn't matter, as far as Kakashi were concerned, because he could not lose Iruka too. No one had ever dared to confront them, because Sharingan Kakashi wasn't someone you wanted to make into an enemy. The problem was that he wasn't Sharingan Kakashi anymore. And Iruka wasn't Sharingan Kakashi's boyfriend; instead, he was seen as the reason Kakashi had lost the Sharingan, forcing the jounin to be barred from field work and weakening Konoha in the process.
Today, Iruka's lower lip showed signs of another sloppy healing job, almost as if the chuunin didn't even care anymore. Kakashi hated that he'd failed Iruka in this way; hated that it seemed to take all his energy just to wake up in the morning and get through another day, so that he could do nothing about anything. He couldn't even bring himself to approach the Memorial stone, a routine he never broke if he were conscious and in the village. He couldn't bear to face the stares and whispers of derision that he'd first encountered upon leaving the hospital that first day, and so he didn't leave the small apartment at all. Couldn't handle the unspoken pity from his closest friends, or the awkward silences that always followed.
It had only been two weeks, but Kakashi felt as if years had passed him by. Without the Sharingan, he felt more useless than he'd ever had in his lifetime. Without Iruka's bright optimism, he felt hollow and cold; the same feelings that had driven him to join ANBU, once upon a time. That wasn't even an option anymore, Kakashi thought bitterly. He let the empty glass slide from his fingers and onto the bed. He could not go on like this, and anyone could see that Iruka couldn't either.
"You're still here..." It was surprising; the chuunin usually left quickly, or refused to meet his eyes, as if he were ashamed of the jounin. The very thought made Kakashi's body ache; he pushed it aside roughly, unable to believe Iruka could feel that way towards him. Not when the chuunin was the only thing anchoring him here, unknowingly giving him a reason to go on at all.
"I'm sorry, Kakashi-san," Iruka's eyes were downcast, his tone weary. He turned to leave, but Kakashi caught him by the wrist, pulling him onto the bed roughly.
"Stop, please, Iruka. Stop the damn apologies and formalities, for once." It came out as a desperate plea; not exactly what Kakashi had been going for. Sometimes, he wanted to just shake the other man until the chuunin's old personality returned. He was becoming desperate to see Iruka's eyes become warm and bright, instead of dull and lifeless. They sat in silence more often than not, these days. The jounin felt as if the unnatural quiet was eating him at him from the inside out.
This wasn't him. Wasn't Iruka. Wasn't them.
"I didn't ask for this!"
Kakashi was taken aback by the chuunin's sudden outburst, his single eye widening as Iruka tried to free himself from the jounin's grasp. "You--" The empty glass rolled off of Kakashi's lap, shattering loudly when it hit the floor.
"I never asked you to jump in front of me!" Iruka continued, tone bitter with guilt even as he tried to pull away. Kakashi just held on tighter, numb inside, unable to process what he was hearing. "I never wanted you to!"
"No! I don't abandon my teammates, Iruka, and I would never stand by and let you get hurt if I could help it!" He couldn't mean that he'd rather be dead, Kakashi thought, over and over. Just couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. Even if that's what it had sounded like.
"No?" Iruka's voice cracked. He stilled, finally meeting the jounin's gaze, expression filled with hurt and betrayal. Smiling, bitterness mixed in with adoration. It was like a slap to the face. Kakashi's blood turned to ice at his sudden realization.
Liar. Liar, liar, liar...
"I-- I'm so sorry, Iruka." The words stuck in his throat; Kakashi felt like he was choking, or drowning. Couldn't get the words out fast enough to fix this-- what if nothing could fix this?
"Don't--"
The briefest flash of something flickered in Iruka's eyes when Kakashi suddenly drew him close, holding onto him protectively, pale hands smoothing over bruises old and new as his fingers trailed over fresh cuts under the chuunin's clothes. The jounin trembled despite himself, rage building deep within and directed towards himself and whoever had dared do this to Iruka, to his chuunin. Because there was no way Iruka had done it to himself.
"I've been such an idiot," the jounin breathed, burying his face in Iruka's neck. "I'm so sorry, beloved... Please forgive me." Kakashi ignored how broken and defeated his voice sounded, though it was also tinged with fierce determination. "Please-- I can't lose you. I can't. I love you." Iruka stiffened and pulled away, wearing a completely incredulous expression. Kakashi held his breath for long seconds, waiting for the chuunin to say something, anything.
"You... That was..." Iruka shook his head, sitting back on his heels, as if dazed. "That's the first time you said that, since you found out." The chuunin bowed his head, shaking visibly with weeks worth of repressed emotions. "I-I thought you still blamed me... You were-- I thought you would never--"
Kakashi's eye widened at this, Iruka's words causing his chest to tighten painfully. "No!" He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the chuunin once more, as if he'd be washed away from the sheer force of his guilt if he let Iruka go. His own eye teared up when Iruka began mumbling 'I love you' over and over again into the jounin's neck, through tears and hiccups and trembling.
"You silly, silly man," Kakashi couldn't keep the relief out of his voice as familiar feelings of warmth and adoration overcame him. "How could I possibly blame you? I could never-- There was nothing for me to even forgive, Iruka. I can't believe I was so oblivious..."
Iruka gave a watery laugh and just held on tighter as Kakashi shushed him, kissing away the tears, lightheaded from relief.
They were going to be all right.
~ ~ ~
Kakashi shifted from one foot to another in awkwardness. Self consciousness had descended the minute he stepped in front of the memorial stone. What had at one time been an unbreakable routine was now almost painfully difficult. Pushing past the lump in his throat, the jounin looked towards the sky wistfully. Somber and grey, like his now singular eye. As if there may be a sudden downpour at any moment. A stiff breeze picked up, ruffling the jounin's hair and sending leaves scurrying across the ground.
"Obito..." A deep sigh shuddered through Kakashi's frame and he bowed his head. He'd avoided this for weeks, out of shame, but he couldn't put it off any longer. He had to come clean, here, before he would be able to fully move on. "I lost your gift, Obito. I... I had to protect Iruka." Kakashi dredged up a small smile; barely enough to stretch the fabric of his mask. Obito would be able to see it, regardless. "But I also think you would have wanted that, ultimately. Because those who abandon their teammates are worse than scum, right?"
Memories flashed into his mind, unbidden. Obito, pushing him out of the way at the last possible second. Iruka's eyes just before Kakashi's body had moved on its own to shield the chuunin... "I finally did the right thing," he whispered to the breeze. "Thank you for watching over me all this time, Obito." Kakashi traced his friend's name with trembling fingertips, throat tight with emotion. Obito would understand, he was sure of it.
"Father... Sensei..." Trailing off, Kakashi looked to the sky again. In a way, he'd lost the last thing to tie him to his old team. In the eyes of some, he'd lost his value as a ninja in losing his namesake. Without the Sharingan, Chidori and Raikiri were no longer possible; along with so many other jutsus he'd memorized. He was made so much more mortal, and in such a short time. It brought him back to the days when people would mutter his father's name as an insult. Dark days that he'd fought his whole life to finally be beyond. It was almost ironic, in ways he wasn't altogether very comfortable discussing just yet.
But he had Iruka, and that changed things considerably. Iruka, who had never held him so tightly as the night before, unwilling to let him go. Kakashi remembered the warmth of Iruka's arms with fondness, as if it still clung to his skin. Protecting him; reminding him that he was far from being alone, even if he felt that way more than he ever had before. The chuunin had smiled at him, expression caught between slight sadness and joy, eyes shining with adoration, before saying something Kakashi wouldn't soon forget.
'Now you can be just Kakashi...'
And it was true. It was as if the weight of expectations and past failings had suddenly been taken away, replaced with growing warmth and a strong sense of purpose, pushing past disadvantages and dispelling the gloom.
Just Kakashi.
Not Sharingan Kakashi, or the Man of a Thousand Jutsu...
Just Kakashi.
And that was good enough. Iruka's reverent tone had made Kakashi's heart skip a beat as he tightened his own arms around the chuunin.
He would need to train harder than he ever had before, to regain his edge. He'd need to be even more alert than before, now that he'd lost the advantage he'd learned to rely on. There would be a lot of time spent on new jutsu, and getting more used to a blind spot that couldn't be remedied by lifting his headband. He would have cope with the headaches and hallucinations that the loss of the Sharingan caused. People would talk; people always did. There would be whispers behind his back, or outright insults, now that he was more mortal, in their eyes. Close enough to their level to be fair game, now.
That was fine too.
Anyone else might have been daunted, with so many things stacked against them from the start, but Hatake Kakashi wasn't just anyone. Sharingan or not, he was still himself, and more determined than ever.
"Please continue to watch over us..." A wistful smile played on his lips as Kakashi pulled down his mask briefly to inhale the cool air. The skies were going to open up and drench him any minute now. Iruka wouldn't be too happy if he got soaked before coming back home, the jounin thought fondly. With that, Kakashi bowed low, tracing familiar names one more time before replacing his mask and turning to make his way home. The breeze picked up once more, feeling for all the world like a gentle, reassuring caress across his back.
~ Owari ~
Rating: T
Obligatory Disclaimer: Characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto. Writing belongs to me. Includes slight angst and a bit of psychological trauma.
Summary: To lose one thing is to lose many, but there is no loss without gain. Kakashi's outlook will be forever changed.
Notes: The title roughly translates to "Losing Sight of, to Gain Perspective". Written for the KakaIru Winter Exchange Fest! I regret that it isn't longer, but I tried my best with the prompt despite having a difficult time. And a HUGE thank-you to Beasiesgal for betaing!
Kakashi came awake to a merciless throbbing in his left eye; a clear sign of Sharingan overuse and chakra exhaustion. His limbs felt more like lead weights and his throat was uncomfortably dry. At the very least, he thought, his mask was in place and he was in mostly-familiar territory. The hospital. Well, that wouldn't be the case for long. Not if he had a say in the matter.
"Kakashi-san!"
Groaning, the jounin opened his good eye to stare at the room's other occupant balefully. He hadn't expected a visitor at his bedside, for the simple reason that he'd never had any for so long. Iruka's face came into view and Kakashi's gaze lingered on the other man's eyes. Worried. Tired. Frightened. Slightly red-rimmed, Kakashi mused, and frowned at the dark circles. "You look like shit, sensei."
Iruka made a noncommittal noise and ran a hand through his hair, which was tied in a looser ponytail than usual. "Yeah, well..." he trailed off, frown deepening. It was then that Kakashi noticed the bruises and bandaging the chuunin was sporting, and how Iruka was desperately trying to reign in his chakra. It wasn't working very well; tension was coming off of him in waves. It set Kakashi's own senses on edge.
"You can stop worrying, Iruka," Kakashi tried to dredge up a grin, but it came out more like a pained grimace. "I'm fine, alright?" His left eye hurt like hell, but then, it almost always did. Even more so after missions. Always when he woke up in a hospital.
Kakashi had expected Iruka to give a nervous chuckle, or at the very least, a small smile of relief. What he hadn't expected was for the chuunin to bite his lip and wring his hands, seemingly growing tenser by the second. He looked like he had something to say, so the jounin just looked at him expectantly. Probably about to launch into some long, loud lecture about recklessness, Kakashi thought. Then again, he'd much rather be getting it from Iruka than Tsunade.
Iruka surprised him again when the chuunin sat down, very suddenly, at the edge of the bed. "What exactly do you remember, Kakashi-san..." The chuunin's tone was very even; much too quiet compared to the sensei's normal speaking voice. It made the hairs on Kakashi's neck prick slightly. Something was wrong. Off. Twice, Iruka had used honorifics with him; something the man only did anymore when he was very, very nervous, or in public.
Kakashi sighed quietly, reaching out a hand to grip Iruka's own. It was shaking, even as the jounin squeezed it in reassurance. "I remember jumping in front of you," the jounin said, hanging his head tiredly. "And taking out that bastard." He looked up again, visible eye fierce. His head ached at the memory. Kakashi raised up his free hand to rub at the Sharingan, only to find it tightly bandaged. "And then it went black," he muttered.
"You shouldn't have done it," Iruka mumbled, looking miserable and self depreciating. Tiny beads of blood appeared on the chuunin's lower lip, where teeth had finally pierced skin.
"Like hell I was going to let him hurt you, Iruka!" The jounin had known in that second that Iruka had no time to dodge or counter the attack. The Sharingan had spun wildly, and before Kakashi knew it, he'd found himself standing protectively in front of his most precious person, snarling in rage as he launched himself towards the missing nin. There weren't supposed to be missing nin on the mission, Kakashi thought bitterly, but that was life. "Don't you dare tell me you weren't worth it."
Iruka just shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh. "You shouldn't have done it," he repeated, whole body trembling faintly, now.
"Iruka, shh-- I'm fine, love. Really. I'm fine, and you're fine, alright?"
Much to Kakashi's surprise, Iruka suddenly wrenched his hand away from the loose grip, trembling even more. "No," the chuunin choked out. It sounded like a strangled sob. "No, you aren't, and it's all my fault," he said. Iruka looked haunted, eyes full of guilt and sorrow. He brought his hands up to hide his face, slumping slightly.
"I don't--"
"You wasted your Sharingan on me, Kakashi," Iruka muttered, shaking his head. "It wasn't worth it. I'm not worth losing the Sharingan over."
Kakashi felt his stomach drop, every muscle freezing up at once.
~ ~ ~
There was a time when Hatake Kakashi thought the worst thing to happen to him had been to gain the Sharingan. The pain and guilt that had followed the incident had seemed almost unbearable, barely dissipating as years passed. He'd been haunted by the memories of past failures for so long that he'd never expected it to get worse.
He'd been wrong, of course; losing it was much, much worse than what he'd suffered. To have failed Obito a second time... And not just Obito. Not just his Sensei either. No, he'd failed all of Konoha. Failed them when they needed him as the deadly tool he was brought up to be.
He'd failed Iruka, in a roundabout way. Iruka, who'd had such a warm, optimistic disposition, even at the worst of times. Iruka, who'd always managed to push his personal issues aside to help a comrade, a friend, his own lover... Iruka who always had a smile or kind word hidden somewhere, ready to dispatch to someone in need. Kakashi hadn't seen that Iruka for some time.
"Kakashi-san, would you like some water."
Kakashi frowned behind his mask, eyeing the Iruka-imposter warily before giving a short nod. Because this Iruka wasn't his Iruka. Wasn't the perky, mischievous chuunin he'd come to know and love. This Iruka always looked haunted and full of self loathing even when he tried his hardest to put on a cheerful facade. This Iruka never shouted at him or laughed with him or teased him or made enthusiastic noises in bed anymore.
Sighing, Kakashi accepted the proffered glass, ignoring the way Iruka's hand flinched when it brushed against his own. Some days, he couldn't even bear to look the chuunin in the eyes anymore. Because underneath all the guilt, all the self hatred and sorrow, there was still love and devotion, unwavering when Kakashi snapped at him or ignored him completely. Because the other man firmly believed that it was his own entire fault. That he was solely responsible for the loss of Obito's gift and Kakashi's namesake.
It had taken Kakashi some time to understand how much damage had been done to the once bright sensei before he'd even awoken in the hospital. It had taken him failing his psych evaluation and physical for field work because of the fact that losing the sharingan caused hallucinations that had nothing to do with his actual sight, but was instead his own mind working against him. While having the sharingan had always limited his sight until he uncovered it, Kakashi had never had to deal with being completely blind in his left eye. Tsunade had said that sending him out in his current condition was more like ordering his execution.
It was an unexpected blow, suffering the loss of his pride as well as the Sharingan, so that Kakashi hardly knew who he was, on some days. More often than not, he didn't bother to get out of bed; there just weren't any reasons to, lately.
It had taken all of these things happening before he finally noticed, one day, that Iruka walked with a slight limp, and the chuunin's bruises were not healing. Or rather, there were new ones atop the barely healed others. He'd confronted Iruka about it, but the chuunin had brushed it off with a fake smile and an equally false story that made Kakashi want to throw his water glass across the room at the time. There was no way Iruka had accidentally tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs, but Kakashi bit his tongue. He had no energy to argue anymore.
Kakashi refused to believe what his own logic and gut instincts were telling him, at first, unable to handle the reality of it. But, deep down, and as more time passed, he knew. Before the loss of his Sharingan, they'd both known that many people looked down on their relationship. It hadn't mattered, at the time. Still didn't matter, as far as Kakashi were concerned, because he could not lose Iruka too. No one had ever dared to confront them, because Sharingan Kakashi wasn't someone you wanted to make into an enemy. The problem was that he wasn't Sharingan Kakashi anymore. And Iruka wasn't Sharingan Kakashi's boyfriend; instead, he was seen as the reason Kakashi had lost the Sharingan, forcing the jounin to be barred from field work and weakening Konoha in the process.
Today, Iruka's lower lip showed signs of another sloppy healing job, almost as if the chuunin didn't even care anymore. Kakashi hated that he'd failed Iruka in this way; hated that it seemed to take all his energy just to wake up in the morning and get through another day, so that he could do nothing about anything. He couldn't even bring himself to approach the Memorial stone, a routine he never broke if he were conscious and in the village. He couldn't bear to face the stares and whispers of derision that he'd first encountered upon leaving the hospital that first day, and so he didn't leave the small apartment at all. Couldn't handle the unspoken pity from his closest friends, or the awkward silences that always followed.
It had only been two weeks, but Kakashi felt as if years had passed him by. Without the Sharingan, he felt more useless than he'd ever had in his lifetime. Without Iruka's bright optimism, he felt hollow and cold; the same feelings that had driven him to join ANBU, once upon a time. That wasn't even an option anymore, Kakashi thought bitterly. He let the empty glass slide from his fingers and onto the bed. He could not go on like this, and anyone could see that Iruka couldn't either.
"You're still here..." It was surprising; the chuunin usually left quickly, or refused to meet his eyes, as if he were ashamed of the jounin. The very thought made Kakashi's body ache; he pushed it aside roughly, unable to believe Iruka could feel that way towards him. Not when the chuunin was the only thing anchoring him here, unknowingly giving him a reason to go on at all.
"I'm sorry, Kakashi-san," Iruka's eyes were downcast, his tone weary. He turned to leave, but Kakashi caught him by the wrist, pulling him onto the bed roughly.
"Stop, please, Iruka. Stop the damn apologies and formalities, for once." It came out as a desperate plea; not exactly what Kakashi had been going for. Sometimes, he wanted to just shake the other man until the chuunin's old personality returned. He was becoming desperate to see Iruka's eyes become warm and bright, instead of dull and lifeless. They sat in silence more often than not, these days. The jounin felt as if the unnatural quiet was eating him at him from the inside out.
This wasn't him. Wasn't Iruka. Wasn't them.
"I didn't ask for this!"
Kakashi was taken aback by the chuunin's sudden outburst, his single eye widening as Iruka tried to free himself from the jounin's grasp. "You--" The empty glass rolled off of Kakashi's lap, shattering loudly when it hit the floor.
"I never asked you to jump in front of me!" Iruka continued, tone bitter with guilt even as he tried to pull away. Kakashi just held on tighter, numb inside, unable to process what he was hearing. "I never wanted you to!"
"No! I don't abandon my teammates, Iruka, and I would never stand by and let you get hurt if I could help it!" He couldn't mean that he'd rather be dead, Kakashi thought, over and over. Just couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. Even if that's what it had sounded like.
"No?" Iruka's voice cracked. He stilled, finally meeting the jounin's gaze, expression filled with hurt and betrayal. Smiling, bitterness mixed in with adoration. It was like a slap to the face. Kakashi's blood turned to ice at his sudden realization.
Liar. Liar, liar, liar...
"I-- I'm so sorry, Iruka." The words stuck in his throat; Kakashi felt like he was choking, or drowning. Couldn't get the words out fast enough to fix this-- what if nothing could fix this?
"Don't--"
The briefest flash of something flickered in Iruka's eyes when Kakashi suddenly drew him close, holding onto him protectively, pale hands smoothing over bruises old and new as his fingers trailed over fresh cuts under the chuunin's clothes. The jounin trembled despite himself, rage building deep within and directed towards himself and whoever had dared do this to Iruka, to his chuunin. Because there was no way Iruka had done it to himself.
"I've been such an idiot," the jounin breathed, burying his face in Iruka's neck. "I'm so sorry, beloved... Please forgive me." Kakashi ignored how broken and defeated his voice sounded, though it was also tinged with fierce determination. "Please-- I can't lose you. I can't. I love you." Iruka stiffened and pulled away, wearing a completely incredulous expression. Kakashi held his breath for long seconds, waiting for the chuunin to say something, anything.
"You... That was..." Iruka shook his head, sitting back on his heels, as if dazed. "That's the first time you said that, since you found out." The chuunin bowed his head, shaking visibly with weeks worth of repressed emotions. "I-I thought you still blamed me... You were-- I thought you would never--"
Kakashi's eye widened at this, Iruka's words causing his chest to tighten painfully. "No!" He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the chuunin once more, as if he'd be washed away from the sheer force of his guilt if he let Iruka go. His own eye teared up when Iruka began mumbling 'I love you' over and over again into the jounin's neck, through tears and hiccups and trembling.
"You silly, silly man," Kakashi couldn't keep the relief out of his voice as familiar feelings of warmth and adoration overcame him. "How could I possibly blame you? I could never-- There was nothing for me to even forgive, Iruka. I can't believe I was so oblivious..."
Iruka gave a watery laugh and just held on tighter as Kakashi shushed him, kissing away the tears, lightheaded from relief.
They were going to be all right.
~ ~ ~
Kakashi shifted from one foot to another in awkwardness. Self consciousness had descended the minute he stepped in front of the memorial stone. What had at one time been an unbreakable routine was now almost painfully difficult. Pushing past the lump in his throat, the jounin looked towards the sky wistfully. Somber and grey, like his now singular eye. As if there may be a sudden downpour at any moment. A stiff breeze picked up, ruffling the jounin's hair and sending leaves scurrying across the ground.
"Obito..." A deep sigh shuddered through Kakashi's frame and he bowed his head. He'd avoided this for weeks, out of shame, but he couldn't put it off any longer. He had to come clean, here, before he would be able to fully move on. "I lost your gift, Obito. I... I had to protect Iruka." Kakashi dredged up a small smile; barely enough to stretch the fabric of his mask. Obito would be able to see it, regardless. "But I also think you would have wanted that, ultimately. Because those who abandon their teammates are worse than scum, right?"
Memories flashed into his mind, unbidden. Obito, pushing him out of the way at the last possible second. Iruka's eyes just before Kakashi's body had moved on its own to shield the chuunin... "I finally did the right thing," he whispered to the breeze. "Thank you for watching over me all this time, Obito." Kakashi traced his friend's name with trembling fingertips, throat tight with emotion. Obito would understand, he was sure of it.
"Father... Sensei..." Trailing off, Kakashi looked to the sky again. In a way, he'd lost the last thing to tie him to his old team. In the eyes of some, he'd lost his value as a ninja in losing his namesake. Without the Sharingan, Chidori and Raikiri were no longer possible; along with so many other jutsus he'd memorized. He was made so much more mortal, and in such a short time. It brought him back to the days when people would mutter his father's name as an insult. Dark days that he'd fought his whole life to finally be beyond. It was almost ironic, in ways he wasn't altogether very comfortable discussing just yet.
But he had Iruka, and that changed things considerably. Iruka, who had never held him so tightly as the night before, unwilling to let him go. Kakashi remembered the warmth of Iruka's arms with fondness, as if it still clung to his skin. Protecting him; reminding him that he was far from being alone, even if he felt that way more than he ever had before. The chuunin had smiled at him, expression caught between slight sadness and joy, eyes shining with adoration, before saying something Kakashi wouldn't soon forget.
'Now you can be just Kakashi...'
And it was true. It was as if the weight of expectations and past failings had suddenly been taken away, replaced with growing warmth and a strong sense of purpose, pushing past disadvantages and dispelling the gloom.
Just Kakashi.
Not Sharingan Kakashi, or the Man of a Thousand Jutsu...
Just Kakashi.
And that was good enough. Iruka's reverent tone had made Kakashi's heart skip a beat as he tightened his own arms around the chuunin.
He would need to train harder than he ever had before, to regain his edge. He'd need to be even more alert than before, now that he'd lost the advantage he'd learned to rely on. There would be a lot of time spent on new jutsu, and getting more used to a blind spot that couldn't be remedied by lifting his headband. He would have cope with the headaches and hallucinations that the loss of the Sharingan caused. People would talk; people always did. There would be whispers behind his back, or outright insults, now that he was more mortal, in their eyes. Close enough to their level to be fair game, now.
That was fine too.
Anyone else might have been daunted, with so many things stacked against them from the start, but Hatake Kakashi wasn't just anyone. Sharingan or not, he was still himself, and more determined than ever.
"Please continue to watch over us..." A wistful smile played on his lips as Kakashi pulled down his mask briefly to inhale the cool air. The skies were going to open up and drench him any minute now. Iruka wouldn't be too happy if he got soaked before coming back home, the jounin thought fondly. With that, Kakashi bowed low, tracing familiar names one more time before replacing his mask and turning to make his way home. The breeze picked up once more, feeling for all the world like a gentle, reassuring caress across his back.
~ Owari ~