Numbah Three
Theme: 3 / Giving Up
Fandom/Pairing: Naruto / KakaObiRin
Title: Seeing You Again
Author: Et tu, Brute? Moi.
Rating: PG-13 / R (for inexplicit sex)
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Note: smex-y. character death. personal plot theories. takes place just before manga time jump.
Seeing You Again
Rin sat at the bar alone, her thick fingers wrapped tightly around the small cup. She would only take small sips of the liquid, as if she was drinking just to have something to do, and not to get drunk. Her thoughts flashed about in her head, bouncing off the walls and back again, quick as lightning, and just as sharply painful.
She was silent today, as opposed to her usual friendly self. The villagers had grown to know Rin well all these years and knew there was only one day in the whole year that she dressed in black and stood with her back to them. Only one day when the doctor would lock her door and the office would be sheathed in darkness, even though no one had seen her come out.
One day when her smile refused to brighten their day.
She turned slightly as a man approached and sat next to her, a hood thrown over his head. It wasn’t enough to hide his huge mess of hair, though, and small silver locks peeking out from under it. She hid the small smile that her lips curled into beneath one of her hands.
“So, how are things here?” he asked, not looking at her, but she knew the questions was aimed at her nonetheless.
Rin decided she’d play his game, and she took a slow sip of her sake before answering. “Same as last year. More people died and more babies were born. Maybe the former outnumbered the latter this time around, though.”
A small gentle chuckle came from the shadows under his hood. “Is that a subtle way of asking if Konoha is involved in yet another war?”
Rin snorted derisively. “No. I’m not stupid, you know, nor am I isolated. I know that Orochimaru took over the Otogakure, and that Suna has forged a thin alliance with Konoha. I know that the only Uchiha survivor went over to him.” As she went on her voice got steadily louder, and the hand gripping her cup began shaking. “I know that Obito would spit in his face for betraying his friends for power. I know that I wish Obito were alive instead of that sprout, with less knowledge in his head than in my elbow!”
The stranger glanced around nervously, and put a thin hand on her arm before she could spiral out of control. “Rin, shh. Look, how about we head over to your office and we can talk there?”
Rin took a deep breath and glanced around the bar. Most people looked away from her as soon as she turned her gaze towards them, but they were all still listening. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them, it was that . . . well, she just couldn’t trust them. Not with her life. Half the time she felt that she couldn’t trust even Kakashi to not give her away.
She downed the rest of her drink and placed it down gently on the counter. “Okay. I’ll agree to that.”
As the stranger slid off his stool with the ease of one who knows the advantages of height and grace, she stuck her hand into her pocket to retrieve some of the coins she had brought with her. Rin threw down what she had without counting it, and jumped off her tall stool. She did so without elegance or care, and the thick soles of her boots thumped against the floor noisily.
Even as short in stature as she was, in her walk there was a sort of swagger, as if she knew she could take you, and wanted you to know that too. The stranger knew better than to doubt that, and watched her with half-amused, half-wary eyes as she quickly pulled her emerald green cloak tighter around her, stepping outside into the bitter cold. The wind was surprisingly strong and it bit sharply at Rin’s exposed cheeks.
Before she could stop him, the stranger wrapped an arm around her shoulder, using his own body as a sort of a wall against that wretched wind. Even so, Rin didn’t appreciate it. “We’re not fifteen anymore, Kakashi!” she hissed as she shouldered her way from under his hold. She quickly began stalking down the street, leaving wide footprints in the snow despite her small feet.
Kakashi slowly moved to follow her, the snow and ice littering the ground making his body move in quick jerks as opposed to his usual liquid smooth shuffle. He didn’t have his book with him.
When he caught up with her-he knew the way to her office by heart after all this time-she was waiting impatiently at the door, holding it open for him. She pulled him through the doorway, wondering vaguely when he had gotten so lethargic-in memory of Obito?
He sat himself down in one of the many seats scattered about the waiting room. Apparently, he wanted to have this talk now. She took a seat across from him, far enough so that he couldn’t touch her. That . . . that kind of stuff was far behind them.
“So, tell me, how’s . . .”
“The village?” Kakashi interrupted, and with one pale white hand moved his hood down from his head. “Y’know Uzumaki Naruto is training with Jiraiya? Like. . . like he did.”
Rin snorted derisively, and crossed her legs, cupping her hands at her knees. “He’s not our sensei, Kakashi. You know that right?”
Kakashi plowed on as if he hadn’t heard her. “And Haruno Sakura is going to train with Tsunade. Like-”
Rin stood up suddenly, her fists slamming down dangerously hard on the armrests on each side of her seat. “Damn it, Kakashi! This Haruno Sakura is nothing like me! Why . . . why do you look at your team as a reincarnation of ours, Kakashi?” After this first initial outburst, she calms down considerably, and settles back down into her seat. “That’ll mean condemning Haruno to a life of obscurity despite her training and talent. Condemning the Kyuubi-bearer to death before he can even-”
“He has a name, you know,” Kakashi interrupted coldly.
Rin looked up at him suddenly, almost for the first time realizing that he was really there. That’s how this day always began. She would awaken to the numb feeling that she’d lost something. Once fully awake she wouldn’t know exactly what that was. Obito? Her innocence? Peaceful days? All she knew was that this one day out of all those in the year, she was allowed to acknowledge that usually smothered feeling of loss.
Then she’d see Kakashi again, and for a little while she’d act like he was always there, like she saw him for more than one day a year. She’d hurt him in the little ways that people that see each other every day do, and wouldn’t mean it, not exactly. Not consciously.
She reached over and pushed down the large hood still covering his head. Kakashi glanced up at her in surprise. She hadn’t been caring like this in years. In fact, she hadn’t really touched him for a long time.
Her dark, calloused fingers softly fluttered over his cheek, shaking slightly. He knew she was taking a risk here, going out on a limb to comfort him, to right her wrongs. As if she’d done anything bad enough to apologize for.
Him on the other hand . . . he couldn’t apologize profusely enough to cover everything he’d ever done. Not even close. He lifted his hand up and gently pushed hers away, smiling bitterly up at her. “I thought we weren’t fifteen anymore, Rin,” he said quietly, shooting her words back at her playfully.
Kakashi watched as she slipped her hand out of his loose grip and swallowed a sad reply. She then opted for a blunt one. “That, and you’re screwing that teacher now.”
Iruka. Of course he still loved Rin, as one always loved the first person to make them feel wonderful and fulfilled, like she and Obito had once made him feel. Things had changed, though, and time liked to twist and warp things into ugly forms not worth recognizing. He’d changed, Rin had changed, and Obito’s corpse by this time must have been nothing more than a few scattered bones. Time hadn’t been a kind mistress to Team Yellow Flash.
“Isn’t today supposed to be about remembering Obito, not blundering about trying to live with each other’s presents? Because Kage knows I’m not exactly content with you sitting on your haunches here while your village needs you . . .” He quickly stood up before she could retort angry, before she could get defensive and loud and painfully like Obito had once been.
They’d each taken a little bit of that Uchiha boy into them. Kakashi had taken his procrastination and loyalty while Rin had snatched his defensive boisterousness. Their own private way of never saying goodbye.
Without another word, Rin went to her long oaken desk and slipped a key from a pocket hidden among her skirt. Even an ex-missing-nin is still an kunoichi. She used he tiny silver key to pop open that door, which was stuck more than last time, and it got harder to open each year. She reached inside to pull out an incense stick and instead . . .
She only took out that shirt when she felt particularly vulnerable, particularly nostalgic. She tried not to let it happen much, since anyone with a brain would put two and two together if they spotted her with a Uchiha insignia on her back. Rin wondered if she dared drag it out, perhaps to show it to Kakashi.
One glance at him changed her mind. His eyes were half-lidded like he was trying his best to look completely bored and uninterested, but this was just his way. She knew his expression wouldn’t change if she showed him the shirt, but that wouldn’t change the fact he’d be hurting inside. She wrapped her fingers around an incense stick instead-Kakashi liked mint.
“Let’s go, then,” she murmured, and the two of them passed through her office into the back lot, which Rin usually reserved for recovering patients who ached for some time outdoors.
The two of them knew this routine, and Kakashi picked up a light blue bowl from the bathroom they passed in the hallway. “Where’s the red one with the chip in it?” he asked conversationally as his fingers ran over the smooth sides of it. He could feel the little bumps it had acquired at some point during the time it had been made, but it wasn’t the same as the old one. It was in much better condition than the last one, but . . . this was just another sign of how little he saw Rin, how time passed.
“I gave it away,” she replied airily from in front of him. They didn’t say anything throughout the rest of their short walk to their usual lighting place, nor did they exchange words as Kakashi did a jutsu and lit the long stick. He didn’t even notice that it was his favorite.
Soon the cool smoke wafted towards them, and without realizing it they’d gotten their breathing in sync. In. Out. Obito. Out.
Unfortunately, most thoughts on Obito included the other, the one so changed, too close for comfort and too far for familiarity. They almost regretted lighting this incense by this time, since what came after, as accidental as it always was, seemed to be just as much part of the routine as the arguing and the bowl.
She grabbed him, straddling his hips in a few quick seconds and taking possession of his lips before she could stop herself. He pressed back angrily, and they each nipped at each other’s lips. These weren’t actions of passion or unrequited love, but those of anger. They were enraged at everything; death, time, war, living . . .
They fought for dominance like wolves, bites and scratches and growls all included. When Rin took Kakashi-alpha wolf for the day-she ran her nails down his chest, and was reveling more in those thin red lines than at the pleasure between her legs. Why was he acting as if it didn’t matter? Why was he still in that damn village, being their killer, following the rules as completely as ever?
He bit back an especially loud grunt as he came, but Rin was silent. She knew her body in a way more completely than any male. As a medic-nin, she needed to be. It was just as Tsunade had taught her . . . a woman had to know her body well, since no man would ever know it, no matter how wonderful the sex could be.
Oh, did she know it.
She slipped off him and just lay down next to him on the grass, listening to her heart beat loudly in her ears. “Does he know?” she asked, sounding a little smug about it. Kakashi knew whom she meant. Iruka.
“No,” Kakashi murmured, closing his eyes languidly. He spread his arms out on either side of him, his hand falling on Rin’s exposed stomach. She hardly seemed to feel it.
“Why did you leave, Rin? Why did you give up on your village?” After years and years of this question always lingering on the surface of every conversation they had, it sounded dirty to be saying it out loud. It sounded insanely ridiculous and rude and wrong to just let it out as if it didn’t rightly matter.
Rin let her hand fall over his, and this was as gentle as they’d gotten in a long while. “Isn’t it weird, how things seem to repeat themselves? The Akimichi, Yamanaka and Nara clans have never gone a generation since their creations without having one of the strongest teams in the village. And then the Hyuga and Uchiha with one problem always hinting to another and . . . the Sannin. Us. Your team. Are you noticing a pattern here, ‘cause Kage knows I am. Haruno, Tsunade-sensei and I, we have so much in common. Will I end up like Tsunade; did I begin like Haruno?
“And you. There’s always the recluse, one black sheep of the team. Orochimaru. You. That Uchiha boy. Were you headed down that path? Did Obito save you from eternal damnation, from brimstone and fire and pitchforks continuously pressed against your gut? Or did Iruka? Jiraiya, Naruto, Obito. Loud, strong despite what everyone expected, despite apathy and dislike. Naruto’s even training with Jiraiya, like Haruno and I did-”
Kakashi cut her off with a pinch on her navel. “You’re nothing like Sakura, Rin. I mean, Sakura would never, ever leave the village. Well, unless she thought she could show Sasuke the light by doing so . . . Plus, when she rants, she stays on subject.”
Rin let out a little hissed breath from between her teeth. “Kakashi, I’m dying.”
One doesn’t just say things like those angry, spitefully. It was like a bite on the hand, like a spit in the face. Kakashi’s hand flinched beneath hers, so she gently uncurled it and pushed it back towards himself. Rewind and restart. “I didn’t leave the village because of that. I left because . . . I gave up trying to fix things.” She paused, as if expecting Kakashi to say something, to exert his own livid opinion.
He was silent. She went on.
“Everything just seemed so wrong, Kakashi. No one else saw it that way, and even now, it’s the same. I can’t start a rebellion of one. So, I left. But . . . it happened when I was training with Tsunade. I never thought it was unnatural, the fact I had so much control over my body.”
Rin almost laughed at the small intake of breath as she rolled over onto Kakashi again. There was nothing sexual about the action, only pain hidden behind sarcasm and playfulness. “Even now, I can feel the blood pumping through my veins. Call it an extension of the Byakugan.” Sharp bitter laugh. “I feel the small births and deaths of my cells, every second of my life. I know where I’ll be most likely to feel pain and where . . . ”
“You can’t be dying, Rin,” Kakashi whispered, a hand wrapping around a thin strand of her red-gray hair hanging down from her head to tickle his cheeks and neck. “It’s Obito that dies, and me that looks for it. You’re the sane one, stuck in life while us males play hide and seek with it.”
“I feel it, Kakashi. I feel it in my heart, sharp pains I shouldn’t possibly be able to feel. I can’t see the chakra poisoning my veins, but I can feel it.” She laughed again, and Kakashi could feel the vibrations against his chest as she lay her head down onto his shoulder. “Isn’t it ironic? I left the village in the hopes that I’d somehow manage to cut off all ties with that poison, with the life I knew I didn’t want, but it still cuts its way in!” He hoped that the wetness he felt wasn’t her.
It must have begun to rain.
“I’ve been fighting it, Kakashi. Forcing my heart to keep pumping despite the blood that kills me. Just until I saw you again.”
Now it was Kakashi’s turn to laugh, just because it was so damn ridiculous. “What the hell are you saying, Rin? This is too romantic for you.”
“I’m giving up, Kakashi. I never had a reason to begin with. To live, I mean. I left my family and my village. I left you and then I left my teacher. I’ve been waiting all these months to give up, Kakashi.” The more she spoke, the fainter her voice got until it was little more than a slight murmur against his neck.
“Shut up!” he cried, pushing her off of him suddenly. “You won’t die. Keep the poison pumping until the very last second, ya hear? I don’t need another death to mourn today!”
Her body fell limply onto the grass, her eyes already closed. He sat up, staring at her blankly, as if the idea of Rin dying was just unreasonable. It couldn’t happen, not while the strong scent of sex and mint were still mingling in his nostrils.
The twin purple rectangles on her cheeks looked especially dark against the pain skin he suddenly realized she had. How had he missed it? The strain, the odd tension as she dug her fingers into his shoulders as she had him inside her.
The Rin he’d known would have never given up.
Time really was a cruel mistress.
Fandom/Pairing: Naruto / KakaObiRin
Title: Seeing You Again
Author: Et tu, Brute? Moi.
Rating: PG-13 / R (for inexplicit sex)
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Note: smex-y. character death. personal plot theories. takes place just before manga time jump.
Seeing You Again
Rin sat at the bar alone, her thick fingers wrapped tightly around the small cup. She would only take small sips of the liquid, as if she was drinking just to have something to do, and not to get drunk. Her thoughts flashed about in her head, bouncing off the walls and back again, quick as lightning, and just as sharply painful.
She was silent today, as opposed to her usual friendly self. The villagers had grown to know Rin well all these years and knew there was only one day in the whole year that she dressed in black and stood with her back to them. Only one day when the doctor would lock her door and the office would be sheathed in darkness, even though no one had seen her come out.
One day when her smile refused to brighten their day.
She turned slightly as a man approached and sat next to her, a hood thrown over his head. It wasn’t enough to hide his huge mess of hair, though, and small silver locks peeking out from under it. She hid the small smile that her lips curled into beneath one of her hands.
“So, how are things here?” he asked, not looking at her, but she knew the questions was aimed at her nonetheless.
Rin decided she’d play his game, and she took a slow sip of her sake before answering. “Same as last year. More people died and more babies were born. Maybe the former outnumbered the latter this time around, though.”
A small gentle chuckle came from the shadows under his hood. “Is that a subtle way of asking if Konoha is involved in yet another war?”
Rin snorted derisively. “No. I’m not stupid, you know, nor am I isolated. I know that Orochimaru took over the Otogakure, and that Suna has forged a thin alliance with Konoha. I know that the only Uchiha survivor went over to him.” As she went on her voice got steadily louder, and the hand gripping her cup began shaking. “I know that Obito would spit in his face for betraying his friends for power. I know that I wish Obito were alive instead of that sprout, with less knowledge in his head than in my elbow!”
The stranger glanced around nervously, and put a thin hand on her arm before she could spiral out of control. “Rin, shh. Look, how about we head over to your office and we can talk there?”
Rin took a deep breath and glanced around the bar. Most people looked away from her as soon as she turned her gaze towards them, but they were all still listening. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them, it was that . . . well, she just couldn’t trust them. Not with her life. Half the time she felt that she couldn’t trust even Kakashi to not give her away.
She downed the rest of her drink and placed it down gently on the counter. “Okay. I’ll agree to that.”
As the stranger slid off his stool with the ease of one who knows the advantages of height and grace, she stuck her hand into her pocket to retrieve some of the coins she had brought with her. Rin threw down what she had without counting it, and jumped off her tall stool. She did so without elegance or care, and the thick soles of her boots thumped against the floor noisily.
Even as short in stature as she was, in her walk there was a sort of swagger, as if she knew she could take you, and wanted you to know that too. The stranger knew better than to doubt that, and watched her with half-amused, half-wary eyes as she quickly pulled her emerald green cloak tighter around her, stepping outside into the bitter cold. The wind was surprisingly strong and it bit sharply at Rin’s exposed cheeks.
Before she could stop him, the stranger wrapped an arm around her shoulder, using his own body as a sort of a wall against that wretched wind. Even so, Rin didn’t appreciate it. “We’re not fifteen anymore, Kakashi!” she hissed as she shouldered her way from under his hold. She quickly began stalking down the street, leaving wide footprints in the snow despite her small feet.
Kakashi slowly moved to follow her, the snow and ice littering the ground making his body move in quick jerks as opposed to his usual liquid smooth shuffle. He didn’t have his book with him.
When he caught up with her-he knew the way to her office by heart after all this time-she was waiting impatiently at the door, holding it open for him. She pulled him through the doorway, wondering vaguely when he had gotten so lethargic-in memory of Obito?
He sat himself down in one of the many seats scattered about the waiting room. Apparently, he wanted to have this talk now. She took a seat across from him, far enough so that he couldn’t touch her. That . . . that kind of stuff was far behind them.
“So, tell me, how’s . . .”
“The village?” Kakashi interrupted, and with one pale white hand moved his hood down from his head. “Y’know Uzumaki Naruto is training with Jiraiya? Like. . . like he did.”
Rin snorted derisively, and crossed her legs, cupping her hands at her knees. “He’s not our sensei, Kakashi. You know that right?”
Kakashi plowed on as if he hadn’t heard her. “And Haruno Sakura is going to train with Tsunade. Like-”
Rin stood up suddenly, her fists slamming down dangerously hard on the armrests on each side of her seat. “Damn it, Kakashi! This Haruno Sakura is nothing like me! Why . . . why do you look at your team as a reincarnation of ours, Kakashi?” After this first initial outburst, she calms down considerably, and settles back down into her seat. “That’ll mean condemning Haruno to a life of obscurity despite her training and talent. Condemning the Kyuubi-bearer to death before he can even-”
“He has a name, you know,” Kakashi interrupted coldly.
Rin looked up at him suddenly, almost for the first time realizing that he was really there. That’s how this day always began. She would awaken to the numb feeling that she’d lost something. Once fully awake she wouldn’t know exactly what that was. Obito? Her innocence? Peaceful days? All she knew was that this one day out of all those in the year, she was allowed to acknowledge that usually smothered feeling of loss.
Then she’d see Kakashi again, and for a little while she’d act like he was always there, like she saw him for more than one day a year. She’d hurt him in the little ways that people that see each other every day do, and wouldn’t mean it, not exactly. Not consciously.
She reached over and pushed down the large hood still covering his head. Kakashi glanced up at her in surprise. She hadn’t been caring like this in years. In fact, she hadn’t really touched him for a long time.
Her dark, calloused fingers softly fluttered over his cheek, shaking slightly. He knew she was taking a risk here, going out on a limb to comfort him, to right her wrongs. As if she’d done anything bad enough to apologize for.
Him on the other hand . . . he couldn’t apologize profusely enough to cover everything he’d ever done. Not even close. He lifted his hand up and gently pushed hers away, smiling bitterly up at her. “I thought we weren’t fifteen anymore, Rin,” he said quietly, shooting her words back at her playfully.
Kakashi watched as she slipped her hand out of his loose grip and swallowed a sad reply. She then opted for a blunt one. “That, and you’re screwing that teacher now.”
Iruka. Of course he still loved Rin, as one always loved the first person to make them feel wonderful and fulfilled, like she and Obito had once made him feel. Things had changed, though, and time liked to twist and warp things into ugly forms not worth recognizing. He’d changed, Rin had changed, and Obito’s corpse by this time must have been nothing more than a few scattered bones. Time hadn’t been a kind mistress to Team Yellow Flash.
“Isn’t today supposed to be about remembering Obito, not blundering about trying to live with each other’s presents? Because Kage knows I’m not exactly content with you sitting on your haunches here while your village needs you . . .” He quickly stood up before she could retort angry, before she could get defensive and loud and painfully like Obito had once been.
They’d each taken a little bit of that Uchiha boy into them. Kakashi had taken his procrastination and loyalty while Rin had snatched his defensive boisterousness. Their own private way of never saying goodbye.
Without another word, Rin went to her long oaken desk and slipped a key from a pocket hidden among her skirt. Even an ex-missing-nin is still an kunoichi. She used he tiny silver key to pop open that door, which was stuck more than last time, and it got harder to open each year. She reached inside to pull out an incense stick and instead . . .
She only took out that shirt when she felt particularly vulnerable, particularly nostalgic. She tried not to let it happen much, since anyone with a brain would put two and two together if they spotted her with a Uchiha insignia on her back. Rin wondered if she dared drag it out, perhaps to show it to Kakashi.
One glance at him changed her mind. His eyes were half-lidded like he was trying his best to look completely bored and uninterested, but this was just his way. She knew his expression wouldn’t change if she showed him the shirt, but that wouldn’t change the fact he’d be hurting inside. She wrapped her fingers around an incense stick instead-Kakashi liked mint.
“Let’s go, then,” she murmured, and the two of them passed through her office into the back lot, which Rin usually reserved for recovering patients who ached for some time outdoors.
The two of them knew this routine, and Kakashi picked up a light blue bowl from the bathroom they passed in the hallway. “Where’s the red one with the chip in it?” he asked conversationally as his fingers ran over the smooth sides of it. He could feel the little bumps it had acquired at some point during the time it had been made, but it wasn’t the same as the old one. It was in much better condition than the last one, but . . . this was just another sign of how little he saw Rin, how time passed.
“I gave it away,” she replied airily from in front of him. They didn’t say anything throughout the rest of their short walk to their usual lighting place, nor did they exchange words as Kakashi did a jutsu and lit the long stick. He didn’t even notice that it was his favorite.
Soon the cool smoke wafted towards them, and without realizing it they’d gotten their breathing in sync. In. Out. Obito. Out.
Unfortunately, most thoughts on Obito included the other, the one so changed, too close for comfort and too far for familiarity. They almost regretted lighting this incense by this time, since what came after, as accidental as it always was, seemed to be just as much part of the routine as the arguing and the bowl.
She grabbed him, straddling his hips in a few quick seconds and taking possession of his lips before she could stop herself. He pressed back angrily, and they each nipped at each other’s lips. These weren’t actions of passion or unrequited love, but those of anger. They were enraged at everything; death, time, war, living . . .
They fought for dominance like wolves, bites and scratches and growls all included. When Rin took Kakashi-alpha wolf for the day-she ran her nails down his chest, and was reveling more in those thin red lines than at the pleasure between her legs. Why was he acting as if it didn’t matter? Why was he still in that damn village, being their killer, following the rules as completely as ever?
He bit back an especially loud grunt as he came, but Rin was silent. She knew her body in a way more completely than any male. As a medic-nin, she needed to be. It was just as Tsunade had taught her . . . a woman had to know her body well, since no man would ever know it, no matter how wonderful the sex could be.
Oh, did she know it.
She slipped off him and just lay down next to him on the grass, listening to her heart beat loudly in her ears. “Does he know?” she asked, sounding a little smug about it. Kakashi knew whom she meant. Iruka.
“No,” Kakashi murmured, closing his eyes languidly. He spread his arms out on either side of him, his hand falling on Rin’s exposed stomach. She hardly seemed to feel it.
“Why did you leave, Rin? Why did you give up on your village?” After years and years of this question always lingering on the surface of every conversation they had, it sounded dirty to be saying it out loud. It sounded insanely ridiculous and rude and wrong to just let it out as if it didn’t rightly matter.
Rin let her hand fall over his, and this was as gentle as they’d gotten in a long while. “Isn’t it weird, how things seem to repeat themselves? The Akimichi, Yamanaka and Nara clans have never gone a generation since their creations without having one of the strongest teams in the village. And then the Hyuga and Uchiha with one problem always hinting to another and . . . the Sannin. Us. Your team. Are you noticing a pattern here, ‘cause Kage knows I am. Haruno, Tsunade-sensei and I, we have so much in common. Will I end up like Tsunade; did I begin like Haruno?
“And you. There’s always the recluse, one black sheep of the team. Orochimaru. You. That Uchiha boy. Were you headed down that path? Did Obito save you from eternal damnation, from brimstone and fire and pitchforks continuously pressed against your gut? Or did Iruka? Jiraiya, Naruto, Obito. Loud, strong despite what everyone expected, despite apathy and dislike. Naruto’s even training with Jiraiya, like Haruno and I did-”
Kakashi cut her off with a pinch on her navel. “You’re nothing like Sakura, Rin. I mean, Sakura would never, ever leave the village. Well, unless she thought she could show Sasuke the light by doing so . . . Plus, when she rants, she stays on subject.”
Rin let out a little hissed breath from between her teeth. “Kakashi, I’m dying.”
One doesn’t just say things like those angry, spitefully. It was like a bite on the hand, like a spit in the face. Kakashi’s hand flinched beneath hers, so she gently uncurled it and pushed it back towards himself. Rewind and restart. “I didn’t leave the village because of that. I left because . . . I gave up trying to fix things.” She paused, as if expecting Kakashi to say something, to exert his own livid opinion.
He was silent. She went on.
“Everything just seemed so wrong, Kakashi. No one else saw it that way, and even now, it’s the same. I can’t start a rebellion of one. So, I left. But . . . it happened when I was training with Tsunade. I never thought it was unnatural, the fact I had so much control over my body.”
Rin almost laughed at the small intake of breath as she rolled over onto Kakashi again. There was nothing sexual about the action, only pain hidden behind sarcasm and playfulness. “Even now, I can feel the blood pumping through my veins. Call it an extension of the Byakugan.” Sharp bitter laugh. “I feel the small births and deaths of my cells, every second of my life. I know where I’ll be most likely to feel pain and where . . . ”
“You can’t be dying, Rin,” Kakashi whispered, a hand wrapping around a thin strand of her red-gray hair hanging down from her head to tickle his cheeks and neck. “It’s Obito that dies, and me that looks for it. You’re the sane one, stuck in life while us males play hide and seek with it.”
“I feel it, Kakashi. I feel it in my heart, sharp pains I shouldn’t possibly be able to feel. I can’t see the chakra poisoning my veins, but I can feel it.” She laughed again, and Kakashi could feel the vibrations against his chest as she lay her head down onto his shoulder. “Isn’t it ironic? I left the village in the hopes that I’d somehow manage to cut off all ties with that poison, with the life I knew I didn’t want, but it still cuts its way in!” He hoped that the wetness he felt wasn’t her.
It must have begun to rain.
“I’ve been fighting it, Kakashi. Forcing my heart to keep pumping despite the blood that kills me. Just until I saw you again.”
Now it was Kakashi’s turn to laugh, just because it was so damn ridiculous. “What the hell are you saying, Rin? This is too romantic for you.”
“I’m giving up, Kakashi. I never had a reason to begin with. To live, I mean. I left my family and my village. I left you and then I left my teacher. I’ve been waiting all these months to give up, Kakashi.” The more she spoke, the fainter her voice got until it was little more than a slight murmur against his neck.
“Shut up!” he cried, pushing her off of him suddenly. “You won’t die. Keep the poison pumping until the very last second, ya hear? I don’t need another death to mourn today!”
Her body fell limply onto the grass, her eyes already closed. He sat up, staring at her blankly, as if the idea of Rin dying was just unreasonable. It couldn’t happen, not while the strong scent of sex and mint were still mingling in his nostrils.
The twin purple rectangles on her cheeks looked especially dark against the pain skin he suddenly realized she had. How had he missed it? The strain, the odd tension as she dug her fingers into his shoulders as she had him inside her.
The Rin he’d known would have never given up.
Time really was a cruel mistress.