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Kakashi stared listlessly at the sky, his soaked clothes felt unbearably heavy beneath the rain as he struggled to breathe through his mask. What was he if he could no longer be the village’s weapon? What is a tool worth when it can no longer serve its purpose? He wished he knew the answer.
The silver haired man felt stuck there, unmoving, standing underneath the Konoha sky in the middle of the night like a damned scarecrow. The Anbu mask he refused to part with, even though Kakashi knew that his days of wearing it were ripped away from him, was gripped tight in his hand as if it were his last lifeline—which it had been, for a long time that mask was all that kept him afloat.
He wondered if he stood in this open field long enough would his insides be gouged out and replaced with hay? Would his body be hollowed out, becoming nothing but a husk whose only purpose was to keep crows away? If Kakashi had the energy to spare he would have laughed at the dramatics of his spiralling thoughts. If only Obito were there to see this—Kakashi was certain Obito would never have let him live it down—but then again, Obito was no longer there, neither was Rin, neither was Minato-sensei, and much less his father.
That was the funny thing about death, no matter how much he wished and prayed, the dead never answered, they just left Kakashi with a hole in his chest as the world around him spitefully carried on. Kakashi was no stranger to death, no shinobi remains a stranger to it for long—especially not one that joins the ANBU—he may be only a hollowed out, cheap imitation of his former self but, no matter how much he tried to forget, death was always close behind.
The reality was, it didn’t matter how much blood he drowned his hands in. It didn’t matter how many nights he had crawled his way back to the village soaked in blood that was not his own. It never washed out Rin’s blood—which he could still feel caked under his nails even when his hands were scrubbed raw—nor did it drown out the guilt that would surely suffocate him someday. None of it ever erased the image of Obito’s face when he was buried under those god forsaken rocks, Kakashi saw it every time he dared to close his eyes. All of those bodies that he piled up and left in his wake—making the stench of death and decay cling to his skin for days—and yet his father’s body slumped on the ground, cold and lifeless, holding the very blade that he plunged into his stomach still dared to haunt Kakashi even in his waking moments. None of the violence and bloodshed filled missions mended the hollow chasm in his chest—no matter how desperately Kakashi pretended it did.
Sometimes Kakashi thought it would be a fitting end for garbage like him, to drive his own Chidori through his chest. Would he be able to feel as his lungs collapsed into themselves as they overflowed with blood? Would his tongue taste of metal as he choked on his blood in agony until he could no longer draw breath? Would that finally be enough? After all, no matter what Kakashi did, he was never good enough, he was never fast enough, he was never enough for anyone. He was not enough to make his father stay, he was not fast enough to save Obito or Minato-sensei and he wasn’t good enough to prevent Rin’s death at his own hands. And now—because fate must really have a vendetta against him—Kakashi wasn’t even a good enough trained dog to not be forced out of the ANBU, the only thing that gave him any purpose.
“Why?” Kakashi said to the man that he could sense standing behind him.
“Kakashi?” Gai answered, with a softness that should have felt very foreign coming from someone like him.
“Why would you take this from me!” Kakashi whirled around to face the man, breathing heavily as he glared into those damned sad, dark puppy eyes.
“I could not just stand by and watch as you lost yourself to such darkness Kakashi!”
The silver haired man threw his head back and laughed, an ugly and broken sound.
“What, and you thought it was your place to save me?” Kakashi scoffed, trying to not look at the only friend who managed to survive being associated with him, while the venom spilled from his very lips “Did you think I’d fall at your feet, profess my undying and youthful gratitude?”
Kakashi knew that his words had hit their mark when he watched Gai clench his fists tightly. The silver haired man was nothing but a sharp and jagged edge, incapable of doing anything other than viciously cut down everyone who dared get too close. He was a rabid dog who couldn’t help but bite any hand that offered him kindness, and Kakashi could not bear it if the man before him became his next unwilling victim. He could not afford to ruin this man, to taint him, drown him in the darkness until he choked, like everything else Kakashi had ever dared to touch. Why couldn’t Gai see that Kakashi was doing what was best for him? Why could he not understand that Kakashi taking himself out of the picture, out of Gai’s life was the greatest kindness damaged trash like himself could offer to the older man. Kakashi was a bad omen, a harbinger of tragedy and death to anyone he dared to hold close.
The sound of the rain drowned out Kakashi’s harsh breathing, and he desperately hoped it also hid his restrained sobs.
“No, I did not do this expecting anything in return—” Kakashi watched the taller man take a hesitant step towards him, “if you truly think that, I am afraid that I have failed you as a friend my dearest rival.”
The sob that was wretched from Kakashi’s throat may as well have burned him from the inside out. He was breaking, the silver haired shinobi could no longer bend, he had finally reached his limit. Kakashi could feel his undoing creeping beneath his skin, he could not suppress the terror that flooded him at the thought that maybe this time he would not be able to pick up the pieces and put himself back together.
What a fitting end, he thought, to be so broken that every part of him became unrecognizable.
“I refuse to continue watching you destroy yourself like this!”
Kakashi looked up at the man before him, when had Gai gotten so close?
“If our friendship is the price I have to pay for pulling you off of this ledge you insist to stand on, then I will gladly bear that burden a thousand times over!”
The silver haired man could probably count on one hand the amount of times he had seen Gai truly angry. The broad man seemed to be incapable of it, immune to the burning feeling inside that made one’s blood boil over, but it was moments like these that reminded Kakashi that this man was very much capable of it. Kakashi flinched at the feeling of big and calloused hands gripping his shoulders, not hard enough to hurt, never tight enough to even bruise. Gai had always been too kind for his own good.
If Kakashi was a stronger man, he would have pulled away right then and there. He would not be trembling where he stood, desperate for any scrap of attention Gai offered. But in the end of the day, Kakashi was selfish man with a weak will.
“I can’t allow you to carry on with this-this apathy,” Gai used his grip to lightly shake the shorter man, “I...please Kakashi, don’t-don’t make me—” Kakashi could feel the tremors in Gai’s hands as they held him still, “don’t make me watch another loved one disappear Kakashi, don’t make me have to bury you my dearest rival, I care about you too much to be able to survive that.”
Kakashi could feel the tears leaving him in earnest now, completely helpless to even attempt and reign them in, as every emotion he kept tightly shut away for years came tumbling down like an avalanche. His each and every sob was being punched out of somewhere deep within Kakashi’s chest, wet and painful under his already soaked mask. No matter how much he pushed this man away, no matter how much he kept his aloof distance, Kakashi was no match for the Blue Beast of Konoha, it was laughable that he ever thought himself to be a match for Maito Gai.
The silver haired shinobi finally caved in, falling like a puppet whose strings were cut, there was no use in trying to fight it anymore. Kakashi pitched forwards, limp, not fighting against the hands that pulled him into a strong, green spandex clad, chest. It was as he felt the arms envelop him, one strong and steady hand pulling him in deeper by the back of his head while the other arm circled his waist, that Kakashi’s grip on that porcelain mask faltered. Hound’s mask, his mask and lifeline, fell to the wet grassy floor from his hand with an audible splat and yet all he cared about was gripping the back of Gai’s tracksuit like a drowning man.
Kakashi legs gave out, the only thing holding him upright being the mountain of a shinobi before him as he continued to cry, repeating apologies in between each sob and hiccup. Gai shushed him gently, his strong grip only pulling Kakashi in deeper.
“It’s okay now Kakashi, everything will be alright, I swear to you.”
Even as Kakashi shivered from the cold seeping into his bones from his drenched clothing, he felt warmth flood his chest as Gai buried his head into the shorter man's silver hair, leaving a light kiss in his wake.
“I’m right here, and I’m not leaving you—” Gai stopped, taking a shaky breath before continuing, “I’ll stand by you side as long as you need me, and if I fail to do so I will run a thousand laps around the village on my hands!”
Kakashi snorted, not being able to help the teary laugh that was pulled out of him. What in the world had he ever done in this life to deserve this man in it?
The masked shinobi placed his hands on the chest before him as he pushed away from the warmth, not far enough to dislodge Gai’s arms, only enough to face him. His one visible eye was probably bloodshot to all hell, and Kakashi was certain that the bags that had made a home under his eyes for the past months made him look no better than a walking corpse. But that didn’t stop Gai from smiling at him, his dark eyes finally having that spark Kakashi always found comfort in as Gai looked straight at the wreck of a human he was.
Kakashi—if pressed—would call what he did next as a momentary lapse of sanity, fueled by hysteria and feeling drunk on the comfort that being in those strong arms afforded him. But, looking back, the silver haired shinobi knew that nobody in the village could ever really say that they didn’t see it coming.
Slowly and hesitantly, Kakashi raised one of his hands, softly cupping the tanned face before him. The curve of those defined cheekbones was now imprinted in his hand forever as Gai didn’t move away, only continuing to hold him as he looked at Kakashi with his ridiculously expressive eyebrows raised in question. Without breaking eye contact, the silvered haired man used his other hand to reach up and pull his soaked mask down, revelling in the hitched breath he heard from his oldest friend as the broad man openly stared at the newly revealed face. Kakashi moved slowly, leaning up, giving the man before him more than enough time to pull away, before sealing their lips together with a tenderness he long thought was beaten out of him by the village.
The shorter man felt his counterpart freeze, tension spreading through his every muscle under Kakashi’s hands. For a moment Kakashi panicked, tensing as he broke the kiss and tried to move away, planning to dig a hole so deep to bury himself in rather than face such humiliation. But, just as he was cursing himself for ruining yet another good thing—the only good thing left in his life—he felt Gai’s hand thread through his hair, gripping the silver strands tight, and pulling him into a deep kiss.
Kakashi’s breath hitched, a high pitched whine escaping his control as Gai took to kissing like everything else he did in life; with wild abandon and focused dedication. It took no time for Kakashi to lean into it, wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders as he allowed himself to be swept up in Gai’s passion. He could swear that time had lost all meaning just then, Kakashi could feel himself floating away, the only thing tethering him to the ground being the strong grip around his waist and the broad hand buried in his hair.
It was probably a long while before he felt Gai pull away, only to blind Kakashi with one of his signature smiles. The man was helpless but to return said smile with a quirk of his own lips, closing his eye as a sense of peace enveloped him. Kakashi knew that there was a long conversation to be had in the near future, he was very aware that he was far from okay, and that both of them should definitely get out of the rain...but in that moment, Kakashi just allowed himself to drown in the comfort and safety the taller man was offering him.