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Dust motes floated across Kakashi’s vision when he pushed open the door to his apartment. He wished that he’d been able to clean up before Tenzo came over, but there hadn’t been time. “Make yourself comfortable,” Kakashi encouraged, gesturing around him. “Did you want to take a shower or something? The hospital always leaves me feeling,” he struggled to find the word and shuddered by way of explanation.
Tenzo shook his head, eyes glazed as he made his way toward the couch. The man sank onto the cushions and let out a shaky breath. “You don’t have to do this senpai. I’m fine to go home.”
Clearing his throat, Kakashi nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “You might be ready, but I’m not sure if I am.”
Tenzo had spent three days in the hospital before Tsunade declared him physically well enough to leave. The man’s mental state was another story; healing could only do so much. While Tsunade didn’t order Kakashi to keep an eye on the man, the implication had been there. Not that Kakashi needed reminding; he didn’t intend to let Tenzo out of his sight.
“Can I get you anything?” Kakashi glanced toward the kitchen. “Something to eat, or some water? Maybe something stronger to take the edge off?”
Shaking his head, Tenzo tipped his head back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes. “I don’t need or want anything. I’m fine.”
You’re not fine. You were tortured, for days. You lost so much blood that Sakura couldn’t heal you. You almost died in my arms a dozen times between the rescue and Konoha. I almost lost you. The panicked thoughts raced through Kakashi’s mind, but he nodded instead of acknowledging them. “Okay.”
The pair sat in silence for several minutes while Tenzo kept his eyes closed, remaining as still as a statue. Deciding to leave the man to his false peace, Kakashi pulled Icha, Icha from the pouch at his hip and leafed through the familiar book. No matter how many times he skimmed the pages, none of the words sank in. He made the effort anyway.
After several minutes, Tenzo opened his eyes and glanced over. Kakashi kept his gaze on the page in front of him, trusting Tenzo to break the silence when he was ready. The man didn’t. Minute dragged toward an hour without speaking, but Kakashi did nothing to change it. The calm, quiet settled over Tenzo. He visibly relaxed, shoulders lowering as his breath grew deeper. Still, Kakashi didn’t comment; he understood the need for space after a bad mission.
A squealed scream shattered the cocoon of silence, a noise more playful than terrified. Kakashi tipped his head to the side, listening to the sound. He’d live long enough as a shinobi to tell the difference between life threatening terror and surprise or amusement. This sounded like children playing, or perhaps a mistake in a jutsu that led to inherent teasing. There was no danger in the noise beyond embarrassment.
Blowing out a breath, Kakashi turned toward Tenzo to ask which the man thought it might be, and was shocked to see the whites of Tenzo’s eyes. The relaxation had evaporated like it never existed. Tenzo sat rigid on the couch, his hands clawed into the edge of the cushion. Kakashi frowned at the spectacle. “Tenzo? What’s wrong?”
Tenzo shook his head without answering, sucking rapid breaths through his lips. Kakashi set his book on the table and crossed the space between them. Tenzo cringed away. “I can’t,” he gasped out, eyes darting around the room like frightened birds. “I—”
“It’s okay,” Kakashi murmured, fighting the rising tide of panic in his chest. “It was just some kids playing.”
Tenzo clutched his flak vest, fumbling with the snaps. Kakashi placed his hands over the closures and undid them with familiar fingers, helping Tenzo shrug off the heavy fabric. A shrill breath whistled in the man’s throat as he shoved down the partial mask that covered his chin and neck. Kakashi raised one hand to the newly revealed skin and pressed his fingers to the side. Tenzo’s too fast pulse pounded beneath his fingers as he shied away from Kakashi. Dark eyes locked on the door like he expected it to crash open at any moment.
“Look at me,” Kakashi pleaded, letting his hand fall away from Tenzo’s neck. “You’re okay.”
A clatter came from the next apartment, the sound of pots and pans against the sink most likely. Tenzo cried out and pulled away from Kakashi’s side. He lunged to his feet, reaching for a weapons pouch that they’d never found in the rescue. Kakashi’s heart clenched tight as he caught Tenzo’s hand. The man tried to pull away, but Kakashi shook his head. “Come on, trust me.”
The unabated tension in Tenzo’s shoulders hurt more than Kakashi cared to admit, but at least he didn’t jerk free. Clutching Tenzo’s hand, Kakashi led him through the apartment and away from the street noises. His bedroom window opened to trees and the river in the distance, but Kakashi closed it anyway after shutting the door behind them. He pulled the curtains across the pane of glass, throwing the room into soft, quiet shadow.
“You’re safe here,” Kakashi whispered, returning to Tenzo’s side. His voice grew thick on the words. Nearly a week ago, he’d had no idea where Tenzo was or how badly he’d been injured. The memory of the man’s blood coated chest rising and falling too shallowly had haunted Kakashi’s nightmares since. Promising that Tenzo was safe felt like a lie, one that he willingly offered. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Tenzo raised haunted, questioning eyes when Kakashi stepped closer. His breathing had steadied at least, and he seemed to be mastering the terror he’d felt moments before. Kakashi raised a hand to brush over a scar that curled along Tenzo’s cheekbone, tracing its path toward the man’s temple. “This is new. What happened?”
Tenzo closed his eyes, but his head tipped toward Kakashi’s hand. He exhaled in a soft whoosh and shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know.” Kakashi smoothed the pad of his thumb across the pale line of raised skin. “But, you can’t keep all this inside. You need to talk about it.”
For a moment, Tenzo didn’t speak. The tension stretched between them, growing until Kakashi wondered if he’d made a mistake. Maybe Tenzo wanted to be alone after what happened and the extra attention made him uncomfortable. Kakashi couldn’t help but wonder if Tenzo blamed him for not getting there soon enough. Maybe he wanted—
Tenzo exhaled, a soft release of air that deflated his chest. “It came from a shuriken when I was first captured,” Tenzo whispered, shuddering when Kakashi’s fingers curled against his ear.
A similar scar curved along Tenzo’s jaw and moved down his neck in a jagged, lightning bolt. The half mask that Tenzo normally wore would have covered it, but he’d taken it off in an effort to catch his breath. Kakashi followed the path with slow, careful fingers and tried not to think about how close the wound had come to ending Tenzo’s life. One shoulder rose in a shrug. “That one was from a kunai,” Tenzo offered after a moment.
Though Kakashi had seen the damage first hand, there had been too much blood to identify every injury. Even after they got back to Konoha, Tsunade had pushed him aside with hardly a squeeze on the shoulder. She’d closed the door behind her, setting to work on Tenzo while Kakashi stood dumbfounded in the hall. He vaguely remembered Sakura guiding him toward a chair and clean clothes appearing beside him, but he couldn’t recall who had brought them.
With a questioning sound Kakashi reached for the hem of Tenzo’s shirt. He recalled the warmth of skin against his cheek in the hospital where the gown had been too big at the neck. Kakashi had crawled in bed beside Tenzo, still not sure if the man would survive despite Tsunade’s assurances. For once, she hadn’t forced him away. She’d allowed him to lay there until Tenzo woke and stay in the room until the man was discharged.
When the younger man didn’t stop him, Kakashi lifted the hem of Tenzo’s shirt. He bit back a gasp at the roadmap of torture written across the pale skin that he’d once known so well. Kakashi’s next inhale didn’t provide enough air as he laid the garment aside. He smoothed a palm down Tenzo’s right side, unsurprised when the man shied away from the touch. Thin ridges of scar tissue ran along Tenzo’s ribs with a puckered space of dark skin between them, deep enough for Kakashi’s knuckle to sink into. He caressed the abused skin, but Tenzo showed no emotion when he spoke. “Kabuto punctured my lung to see if it would reinflate on its own.”
As Kakashi drew back, his hand shook, though he couldn’t tell if the emotion came from rage or sorrow. A pattern of intricate scars covered Tenzo’s heart. Kakashi covered them with a palm and felt Tenzo’s next words beneath his fingers. “Those were done with a chakra scalpel.”
Moving back, Tenzo indicated a long scar alongside of his stomach; the edges were still puckered in angry pink. “This one was done with a heated metal rod. Kabuto tried to explain, but I passed out before he could finish.” Tenzo’s voice turned monotonous as he offered his left wrist, encircled by an irregular network of scar tissue. “He flayed the skin from my wrist.”
Tenzo lifted the hand higher and displayed the missing joint of his index finger. “I can’t remember what he used for this, only that it hurt like hell.” He brushed through his hair with a grunt, voice growing ragged. “There’s dozens of them. Why does it matter how they got there? What’s the point?”
Shame and guilt threatened to overwhelm Kakashi as the defensiveness reentered Tenzo’s stance. He should have been there; he should have prevented this from happening. Words were more difficult than actions. Kakashi took a step closer and caught Tenzo’s hand. Turning the man’s wrist, Kakashi tugged his mask down with his free hand and pressed his lips against the scar. Tenzo’s breath caught in his throat at the movement.
“I’m sorry,” Kakashi murmured against the warm skin. “I should have been there.”
Kakashi’s mouth followed the smooth arc of Tenzo’s collar bone, noting the shutter that worked through the man’s body. He saw a mark behind Tenzo’s ear, one that he still didn’t have a cause for, and kissed over the smooth circle of pale skin. Tenzo crumbled with every brush of Kakashi’s lips. A sob caught in the man’s throat, tangling in his vocal cords. Kakashi pulled Tenzo against his chest as if he could capture the pain and erase it. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured into the man’s dark hair.
Time slowed to a crawl as Kakashi held Tenzo close, feeling the pain and fear bleed out with every warm breath. Tenzo’s finger dug painfully into Kakashi’s back at first, but over time their grip lessened. Once he felt Tenzo relax, Kakashi pulled back. Tenzo rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I almost lost you,” Kakashi interrupted, fighting to contain the emotions that crept into his voice. “I let you go, and I didn’t say all of the things that I needed to say, that I should have—”
Tenzo absorbed the almost confession in a feather light kiss that stole the remainder of Kakashi’s words. He blew out a breath when they separated, and Tenzo offered a fragile, broken smile. “You found me in the end. That’s what matters.”
“Tenzo, I—”
“You’re right,” Tenzo interrupted with a slight shake of his head. “I do need to talk about it, but right now, I just want to forget everything that happened.”
The man pulled Kakashi toward the bed, pain shadowing his gaze.. “Help me forget, please,” Tenzo whispered.
Heat swirled low in Kakashi’s stomach at the implication of the words. Before he could think to argue, before his mind caught up with his heart, Tenzo slanted his mouth over Kakashi’s in a hungry, desperate kiss that stole the air from the room.
As Kakashi followed Tenzo down to the bed, he didn’t hide from the pain and fear that swirled in the man’s eyes. He acknowledged it with every touch and movement of his body. He couldn’t erase what happened, not really, but he could make certain that Tenzo never felt alone again.