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When Sasuke arrived at the river, Kakashi nearly froze, which would have been an exceptionally bad thing to do as he clashed against his student's older brother. For just a second, Kakashi could have sworn his opponent almost stopped too.
Instead, the two of them broke, the patterns of the fight shifting. Kisame, that hulking shark, smoothly made his way between Kakashi as the brothers separated from the rest of the group. Kakashi swore silently as he now joined Gai, Kurenai, and Asuma against Kisame.
It was unfair how well he could counter all four of them at once, though Kakashi no longer relied on things to be fair in his fights. Not to mention that he really wasn't all that focused, instead trying to watch Sasuke as best he could. The boy was going to get himself hurt, and Kakashi should be the one to stop that.
Both Uchihas’ eyes were intent, the younger's hot with red rage and the elder's cold with something that somehow landed between fury and indifference. Every move they made seemed to be one determined to kill.
Amidst the combat and rushing thoughts, Sasuke hopped back to avoid his brother's grasp. It was the wrong move, and he should have been able to avoid it. With sharingan active, with his mind in fight mode, he should have been able to avoid it.
But he was still injured, still half exhausted. Kakashi cursed whoever had been sloppy enough to let him get out of the hospital as his heart sank into his stomach like a rock.
The back swing of Kisame's sword caught him hard, at just the right angle to toss him. He landed back, over the path and onto the bank, an awful crack sounding out when he did.
For a moment, the shark's eyes widened in something that almost read like fear. Sasuke stayed down, and Kakashi's sharingan vision watched blood pool at the back of his head, against the rock so innocently in the grass.
Then Kakashi was in hell, a red and gray and black mess of agony and memories: his and someone else's, all tangled into a mess of bloodied hands and tears so intense his eyes hurt like even his sharingan had never brought.
Kakashi woke in his own room, alone. His mouth was so dry he couldn't swallow. Clearly, he had been under for a while. With an aching body, he slowly forced himself out of his bed until he had managed himself a glass of water.
He hung shakily on the edge of his counter as his stomach twisted into knots so tight he doubted he could ever undo them. It was probably an overreaction; probably just his pessimism overruling. No. He knew. He had seen that blood, the stagger in his small chest.
Sasuke Uchiha was dead. And it was his fault.
He downed his glass of water, wolfed down a granola bar, then ran out of his apartment. There was a quiet in the air, an awful, ominous sound.
At the morgue, Kakashi went straight for the worker he was most familiar with. Gods, he hated being familiar with the morgue workers.
“Sasuke Uchiha. Is he here?”
She looked at him, taking a moment to process. As always, her hair was tied back in a messy knot, her eyes bagged with tiredness. An overworked profession in a place like this.
“Um… no,” she finally said. “I… well, we have gotten a few… notable additions. I assume you're aware, but…”
“Who?” He asked, voice tight and still dry.
There was a pause, which only served to unsettle him further. She never paused, so this was serious. And most definitely bad.
“The elders; Homura Mitokado, Koharu Utatane, and Danzo Shimura. And the swordsman of the Akatsuki. All the same day,” she confessed, voice low.
Kakashi's mouth opened and then closed. What did he say to that? What the hell had happened?
He cleared his throat. “Which day?”
“The eleventh.” She looked him up and down briefly. “...two days ago.”
The shark, the council. Dead the same day as the little Uchiha. Something had happened, and it only made Kakashi’s insides knot worse.
He mumbled a goodbye and was out of the morgue, hands shaking from either the lack of food or the pure mess in his head.
Kurenai caught him at the corner between his apartment and Gai’s. She wore a similar pallor to him, though it looked like color had had time to return to her skin for a bit. Her face was clear of makeup, making her look oddly softer. When she saw him, her eyes filled with relief.
“Good gods. There you are,” she said in a breathless rush, grabbing his sleeve as if to keep him from running. “How long have you been awake?”
He half shrugged. A bit of the tension left his shoulders at her care, he had to admit. The feeling quickly faded when he remembered that he still didn’t know where his student’s body was.
“A bit. What’s going on?”
She pursed her lips and started walking, still holding onto him. “...When… it happened, Itachi dropped everyone. Then he killed Kisame. No one’s entirely sure what happened, because no one was around but him until about a half hour later, when Anko walked by and found us. Asuma and Gai are still down, I’ve been up since this morning.”
Kakashi stayed silent for a moment, letting her lead him back toward her apartment. “The council?” He finally asked, tone low even though they were mostly alone on the street.
“Probably also Itachi. Jiraiya and Naruto aren’t back yet, but the news has been reasonably well contained. We’re not floundering just yet.”
He made a vague noise of acknowledgement, thinking over the new information. Overall, this was bad. More specifically, Kakashi was pretty sure he was about to spend far too many sleepless nights replaying over and over what he could have done for him. What he should have done for him. Not to mention the state the village could end up in if Jiraiya couldn’t drag back his teammate.
Kurenai’s apartment was a warm place, and Kakashi hated being there. It felt like somewhere that could build love and family in a way that he didn’t feel welcome in. She slid him a cup of tea and started slicing an apple.
“...what are you thinking?” Kakashi asked, less for her opinion and more for the sake of not thinking on his own until he drove himself half mad. “Why’d he do it?”
She frowned down at the apple. “I… I don’t know. I wish there was an easy answer. But since when has that guy been easy to figure out?”
“I thought I knew him, back when we were both in the ANBU. He seemed like a good kid. The type I didn’t really want on my team because he should have been home safe. Or, at least, on some stupid genin mission.”
“That wasn’t long before, right?” She asked quietly, passing him the apple.
He took it but didn't eat. “No, it wasn't.” His brow furrowed. “There's no chance he's alive, is there?” He asked tiredly. He just needed a second voice, someone to tell him he wasn't being crazy.
Kurenai went quiet, the weight of the words falling on them both. “I- I mean, there is a chance,” she offered, though she sounded far from convinced. “There's no body. I guess… he… I don't know. I don't know what's going on, and it scares me a bit.”
“You think I should try to find him?”
“...which one?”
“Whoever's alive.”
The pause hung in the air like they were already at a funeral. After a while, he ate the apple and started to stand to leave.
She caught his wrist, eyes soft with concern.
“Don't. You shouldn't be alone right now,” she said gently.
A flare of pride made him want to leave without another word but he shook it off.
He sighed. “I'm not going to do anything stupid. I'm just going to talk to Sakura and tell her what happened.”
“No. You need more time. You know that's only going to make things worse for you,” she insisted.
He hated that she was even close to right. Since when had he let her join the ranks of people who knew what might be going through his head?
“I know what I'm doing.”
“You do. And that's the worst part of it,” she said.
Finally, he sat back down. Sakura wouldn't be able to find him, so she wouldn't know until told her - or someone else did. Things would remain the same until they weren't.
Kurenai made lunch. It wasn't bad, at all, but Kakashi felt bad making her cook for him. By the late afternoon, Asuma had woken up and joined them. The three of them slept in Kurenai's spare room, half for comfort and half to keep Kakashi from running. It was oddly comforting, even if he knew he was being treated like he couldn't take care of himself.
The next morning, Gai was there too, and it was quiet for the company. In fact, they barely talked except to make sure they weren't in each other's way, or when they discussed meals. Everyone was settling into their own familiar methods of coping.
Gai left to train, fully prepared to push his body to the furthest of its limits. Asuma took extra smoke breaks and picked at the skin around his fingers. Kurenai talked the least, and just tried to make sure they were all fed.
As he sat on Kurenai's floor, all Kakashi wanted to do was repent. He wanted to be punished and he wanted to do nothing because what point did he have to do anything?
Another child was dead because he had failed; failed to teach and lead in a way that could have been better. He could have led him off this path, somewhere he could have been happy instead of obsessed with his revenge. He could have still been alive.
Another child.
Another Uchiha.
Another young soldier.
Someone else told Sakura and Naruto. Kakashi didn't see their reactions; wasn't there for them in the moment of pain. It was all too likely he just would have made it worse anyway.
As soon as Lady Tsunade was settled into her role, Kakashi demanded any and all S-Rank missions she had coming in. There was hesitancy in her when she assigned them, but she did it.
The tasks blurred. Kill them. Save them. Don't die. Get hurt, it doesn't matter. Don't die. Don't die, even though you wouldn't claw at life.
He knew Gai was watching, wanting to pull him back from whatever ledge this was. But he didn't want him to, he would beg him not to if he had those words. He didn't, so he remained silent at the questions and soft concern. Silent at Gai's dinner table, indifferent to the challenges of his rival.
All the rest of them knew that if Gai couldn't get through to him, they didn't have a chance. They responded accordingly, and left him be.
Kill them. Save them. Don't die. Get hurt, it doesn't matter. Don't die. Don't die, even though you're barely alive.
Time felt unreal, but it certainly passed.
Another mission: Kakuzu of the Akatsuki.
Kakashi's teammates were down, and so were three of the demons. Maybe this would finally be the end of it.
He pulled back, trying to keep the demons at a distance with decoys and distractions, but the old Akatsuki was smart.
Kakashi slashed a chidori through one of the demons, only for another to swing in and nearly take his leg off. He faltered in his leap back, nearly crumbling as his weight landed on the gushing limb.
The third demon took the opportunity to lunge forward, attack targeted at his middle.
It was intercepted, otherwise Kakashi was sure he would have been dead. Harsh black flames moved over it like they were hungry. As it stumbled back, trying to claw away the flames, it collided with another of them and it caught as well.
Kakuzu let out a snarl and turned his head toward this new opponent, a smear of black on the sky as they leapt in. That was his first mistake. The moment those eyes met, he was doomed, letting out a wild screech as his mind was torn inside out. Probably much the same as what had happened to the council, if Kakashi's later visits to the morgue had been properly judged.
The demons went limp. Over their bodies, the flames burned silently until harsh eyes turned on them and put them out.
Kakashi gazed over the small field of battle, adrenaline still pounding in his system. He did not move, not away or toward the figure facing him.
He reminded him of a wraith, something dead but still standing in front of him. His eyes were painfully bloodshot and dripping blood from his sharingan use. Overgrown black hair spilled over his shoulders and practically blended into the plain, dark clothes he wore. He toed the line of skeletal, though it was hard to tell from just his face and hands.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to go, stepping past the corpse. A familiar knot formed in Kakashi’s stomach, and he knew he couldn’t allow it.
“Where is he?” He called, not even regretting the words. “You took him. Where?”
He didn’t stop walking, but he glanced back. A little tilt of his head, granting the permission to follow. If Kakashi was in a proper mindset, he wouldn’t have gone into what very well could have been a trap. But he wasn’t in a proper mindset. He was still playing the moment over in his head, swearing he should have done better.
So, he followed, despite his wounds, as far as he could. When he finally went down, slumping against a tree heavily from the mix of chakra exhaustion and blood loss, he really thought he would die there. Either of those wounds or by the hand of the man who stood over him like something fallen from a height.
He didn’t. He knelt and started to silently clean off his wounds. Kakashi silently let him, almost unconscious. His hands were shaky and there was dried blood under his nails, but his actions were as steady as they could have been.
“...why?” He asked softly, eyes shut.
For a while, he got no response. His pack was opened and the bandages must have been taken out, because then they were awkwardly being wrapped around his leg and pants. Before he could mute it, a vague noise of pain escaped him. The hands paused, then returned to their work bandaging his leg.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. There was an unsteadiness to his voice, mixed with a low rasp. It gave Kakashi the distinctive feeling that he hadn’t spoken in a very long time.
Kakashi opened his eyes again, roaming his gaze over the dark bags that marred what could possibly have been a pretty face. “I don’t understand. No one understands.”
Silence, save for the woods and soft breathing. He tied off the bandages, then looked him over for other injuries. None of them were significant enough to deserve attention, apparently. They sat together for a while, half an hour or maybe more.
He rose to his feet, not looking down at him. Kakashi knew that he would not wait for him, so he also forced himself to his feet. The pain in his leg and the exhaustion were familiar; he could walk for hours in such a state. He didn’t have to, thankfully. Less than two hours brought both of them to a field of wildflowers and a singular headstone.
It was a lovely place for him to be laid, Kakashi found himself thinking. A well-made choice of someone who loved him. The inscription was all the things Kakashi would have expected. Name, date of birth, date of death.
Beloved son, friend, student
Treasure of the Uchiha
Shinobi of Konoha
Kakashi read it once, twice, three times. He mouthed the words, letting each weigh on his tongue until he could hear them. His breath caught for a pained moment.
“...not brother?”
“No. He doesn’t deserve that.”
There wasn’t anything Kakashi could think to say in response to that, so he didn’t. He let himself sink to the ground. Next to him, the movement of the flowers showed that he wasn’t alone. He watched him sit, then drop onto his side, curled up nearly in the fetal position. His eyes were still bloodshot.
He sat there and looked at him as he looked at the grave for a while. And then he scooted over and laid down as well, his chest to his back as he draped an arm around his middle. There was no resistance, though whether that was permission or apathy he couldn’t say.
The night came over them quietly. One of them must have fallen asleep first, but it was impossible to say who.
Kakashi was surprised to not wake up alone. He had fully expected him to leave during the night. The rhythm of their breathing seemed to be in sync, every inhale and exhale a back and forth pattern, as if they were simply taking in each other.
He was awake, and now facing him. His bloodshot eyes were so dark Kakashi could have imagined sinking into them and never coming out, or wanting to.
In a wordless motion, Kakashi pulled him closer. It was both an odd and awful comfort. The pressure of his heartbeat, the feeling of another person’s warmth. Kakashi wished he could pull him closer, fit him into his ribcage and say that he knew. Say that, somehow, he understood, he was sorry, he knew this awful feeling.
They lay together until Kakashi’s body demanded he get up, eat, look after himself. Slowly, he did as such, careful not to overly disturb him.
He rose with him, and their fingers silently, unanimously, linked. This time, Kakashi led, though he barely knew where he was going. Eventually, he found a town. He stopped at a shop to get food, then found an inn to collapse in. Thankfully, the residents of the town seemed more or less used to shinobi, so their horrid states didn’t awaken a large amount of attention.
Inside the simple inn room, Kakashi carefully showered and redid his bandages, pulling on one of his spare sets of clothes. It was odd, but the silence was somehow comfortable. He ate the prepackaged convenience store food, offering it to him but being rejected.
Kakashi cleared his throat, breaking the silence in a way that felt like he was breaking something physical. “I want to understand. Everything,” he said gently, looking at him as he curled into himself on the couch.
“...please,” he said after too long without a proper response.
His head laid against the back of the couch, those dark, bloodshot eyes staring at him with a plain blankness.
When he could stand the silence no longer, Kakashi sat down against him and put his head on his shoulder. He let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Itachi,” he whispered.
He took in a ragged gasp, like it was the first time he was getting air into his lungs. How long, Kakashi wondered, had it been since that name had been spoken? How much longer since it had been spoken kindly?
Itachi’s hands reached around him, gripping his back slightly. And then he was crying into his shoulder, skinny body wracked with the force of sobs that had been held back for gods knew how long. Kakashi held him back, unable to keep himself from crying as well.
After every tear had left them, they stayed like that, pressed tight to his body. They interlocked, legs twisting together.
“I followed my orders. I did what I was told,” Itachi said weakly, sounding utterly shattered.
Kakashi wiped the tears off his pale cheeks, feeling the dryness of his skin.
“I was so, so stupid. Danzo said it would protect Sasuke and that was all I needed,” he breathed, voice catching and rasping in his throat. “I knew the coup d’etat would never have worked but where was I to go? I just wanted him to be safe, I would have done anything. I should have. I should have run and taken him with me and done anything that was better.”
There was nothing to say. He put together those words, fitting them into the space of what he knew of Itachi’s story. Unfortunately, painfully, it made sense. A coup from the Uchiha, a child in the ANBU. Nothing to be done.
“I’m sorry, Itachi,” he said again. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect him, or you.”
Itachi stared at him for a moment, almost fretful, like he was afraid of whatever they were right now. It didn’t stop him from reaching for Kakashi’s mask, and there was nothing that would have stopped Kakashi from leaning in when it was down.
“I’m sorry too,” Itachi whispered. “I could have been better.”
Kakashi’s stomach unknotted into a pit. Not an utterly painful one, though, simply one that he could fill. A pit he knew instinctively was matched by the man a breath away from his lips.
He kissed him like it would fix them, fill that hole, hands cupping his cheeks and sinking his fingers back into his messy, greasy hair. Itachi tasted like copper blood and the salt of tears. His shaky fingers were hooked into Kakashi’s shirt, pulling him in tighter.
In that desperate locking of lips, Kakashi did find a sort of solace. A solemn knowing of pain and whatever this was, because it wasn’t love.
As they broke for breath, it was almost as if they couldn’t bear to let go. Even as they took in breaths, their lips were barely a hair apart.
Then their mouths were crushed together desperately, agonizingly needing. If they could have gotten closer, enveloped into each other, Kakashi thought they might have. He let his hands sink under his shirt, finding the curves of muscle as he found the angles of bone.
When they finally let go, it was only to sink into each other like they were starved for warmth.
With the pattern of Itachi's heartbeat in his ear, Kakashi made one silent apology to those back in Konoha. Those he knew now he would not return to.