Work Text:
A lone onyx eye stares at itself.
A clash of kunai.
It takes in the angled jaw, the well-defined mole and the thin, dry lips. Kakashi licks it enough to get them moist.
The smell of wet grass.
His eye flicks towards the deep, dark bags under his eyes and the scar running along the side of his face.
An exchange of fists and kicks.
He closes his eye, opens the other—and then he gazes upon the foreign, yet familiar crimson.
Blue clothes and orange goggles. A bright smile and a thumbs up.
The black tomoes spin and churn, and the pains in his chest follow suit.
A scowling young boy lying flat on his back, grumbling about his loss, a kunai pointed lazily at his throat.
Kakashi shuts the eye and takes a deep, shuddering breath.
A kunai slashing at Kakashi's face.
The distinct smell of fire.
Hands pulling him to safety.
Blue clothes stained crimson, orange goggles cracked and splintered. A boyish smile hidden by a big boulder crushing the other half of his body.
A boy lying on the ground, smiling as he laid in Kakashi's arms, blood pooling beneath them.
When Kakashi opens his eyes again, he sees a mistake in the shape of a broken man.