The day he met a wheelchair-bound woman named Rin and her caretaker Obito was the day Hatake Kakashi began to let go of his past. [AU, set in a daycare. Angst + Fluff with toddler!GeninGang]

Disclaimer: The cover image is not mine. Also, I STOLE KAKASHI'S MASK but other than that I don't own Naruto *wears thy stinky mask*

The Method For A Gentle World
'... life is a beautiful lie, and death is an ugly truth...'

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He didn't know when to stop his addiction. It was bad for him, but Kakashi clung onto it like a child would to a doll.

He knew how to stop his addiction. There were about a hundred ways to do so– get a new, slightly more interesting job; make some new friends; travel north and maybe visit his father's grave– Minato's one, not Sakumo's; settle down with a woman and restart his pathetic excuse of a life –but all of them were either too difficult or too distasteful for Kakashi to do (the last option was the epitome of that statement).

His addiction was not one of materialistic concern. It was more of a mental problem; a depression, of sorts. Kakashi suffered from an addiction known as 'the addiction of aimlessly wandering about the world for no reason but to be alive'. But he preferred the term 'mid-life crisis', thank you very much.

Kakashi did have a job as a college teacher, although he didn't like it. The atmosphere was too dense with chatter and work (he appreciated his colleagues giving him his personal space; Kakashi was rather asocial). He could leave his job, but in this world, there existed life, and in life, there existed a stupid thing called money, which Kakashi thought was an obstacle to ultimate utopia (In his perfect world, everybody payed each other with happiness– cue the delusional crap).

No job = no money = no life.

Which brought him back to the question of 'why do I care about money if I don't even care about my life?'

The thought struck him hard on one gloomy night. It had many times before, but Kakashi was thirty and growing white hair amongst his silver ones. It was that night in which he decided to stop the ticking of his soul clock and kill himself.

4 AM. It was early in the morning, and not many people were at the station he chose. The intense indigo of the sky and the numbing cold of the sharp morning air mingled into a setting perfect for the occasion. Kakashi stood at the edge of the platform, awaiting the one-way express from Iwa heading to Kiri. He glanced back at the signpost where it had KONOHA painted on it. Kakashi remembered when he and Minato first arrived in the city, and how that sign was the first thing his eight-year old self saw after staring curiously out of the window.

Such a memory was meant to be fond, but Kakashi just felt a bottomless emptiness. It didn't matter, anyway.

Three more minutes before the leap. Kakashi wanted to die with no regrets, but he had too many. He decided that he was here to die, not to die with content.

Two more minutes before the leap. He wondered if this was a bit rushed– after all, he'd made the decision in his bed at the middle of the night. Kakashi wasn't even in proper clothing; he wore a white shirt and black pants and... was he barefoot?

One more minute before the leap. Kakashi could see the glimmer of light in the distance. Good. Death's carriage was right on time.

Hatake Kakashi closed his eyes and inhaled the morning air. He thought of his halcyon days, of Sakumo pushing him on the swings, of Minato letting ice-cream droop on his shirt, of Sakumo teasing him about his bed hair, of Kushina giving him a dead daisy, of his mother holding– holding him tight before Death stole her away–

Of Sakumo's tears, Minato's tears, Kushina's tears–

"Dammit." Kakashi felt his eyes water. "Shit. Dammit. Fuck."

The noise of grinding wheels wailed like a banshee, snapping Kakashi out of his reverie. He saw the train come closer to the station. It's coming, he thought. I'll be able to see all of you again... Father... Kushina... Minato...

... Mother.

Twin beacons engulfed the station with its blinding light. The train was approaching fast, its wheels a-clacking and a-clicking, and Kakashi could hear nothing but the sound of his heart thrumming as the train came closer, and closer, and closer–

Time to leap.

A hand tugged his.

Kakashi glanced back in shock.

Brown eyes met with black. He was transfixed by the intensity in those chocolate orbs, which stared unflinchingly into his own black, soulless ones. Confusion flared in his irises. Why was he still on the platform and not in an amorphous heap on the railway tracks?!

One; the train zoomed past before he could throw himself in front of it. Two; some wheelchair-bound woman with brown hair grabbed his hand at the last minute.

It was only the two of them at the station. They stared at each other for a while, until the woman spoke in a soft voice:

"You were going to jump."

It wasn't a question.

Kakashi wrung his hand out of hers. "So what if I was? It's... it's none of your business."

"No, no it isn't." The woman gently smiled, and Kakashi noticed the peculiar purple band-aids on both of her cheeks. "May I ask why you wanted to die?"

"Like I said, it's none of your business."

"Please? I had trouble just to get over here by myself."

Pity-seeker. Kakashi hated pity-seekers, but then again, he was one too. "Isn't it obvious?" he sighed. "I have nothing to do in my life. I have nothing left in the world that I love. Why grace the world with my presence when I can be happier on the other side?"

The woman seemed to ponder about his statement. "So your reason is the generic kind. 'I don't know what to do with my life, so why keep on living?' Well, I don't know, why not? Maybe you haven't found your reason for living."

"No, I lost it a long time ago."

"Then why don't you find a new one?"

"All of them don't interest me."

She laughed, her eyes crinkled in amusement. The silver-head scowled at this before averting his gaze to the railway tracks. "Did you know," said the woman, "that life is a beautiful lie, and death is an ugly truth?"

"I would choose death rather than the lie I've been living."

"Really? I would choose the lie. Unlike the truth, lies can be twisted into one's own liking, just like life. Yes, you can determine the way you die, but the aftermath is all the same.

"When you die, you become the absolute definition of nothing."

Something in her words made Kakashi flinch. "You don't know that. You haven't died."

"Try staying in a coma for three months. It's almost the same thing." The woman closed her eyes, as if reliving that thought. "The way I see it, you're being unreasonable." She faced him with glowing eyes. "You can still have a reason for living."

"Impossible."

"It's not impossible. Difficult, but not impossible."

"As I said before," huffed Kakashi, "this is none of your business. All I ever knew from this world left me. If I die... I'll be able to meet them in my utopia..."

"Your utopia?" she asked.

"Yes. I believe that when someone dies, they will continue to exist in their own version of an afterlife. That afterlife will contain everything that makes them happy with no discontent, hence 'utopia'."

"That's actually a good belief. I'm surprised." The woman put a finger to her mouth, as if in thought. "But... hm. No. That won't do."

Before Kakashi could even raise his brow, the woman pulled out a card from her pants pocket. "Here," she said, offering it to him. "It contains my address and phone number. Go on, take it."

Kakashi eyed her warily. As if reading his mind, she sighed. "If I can't find you a reason to live in one week, then you can kill yourself."

"You would trust me with information about you?"

"I don't think you would rape a disabled woman, so yes, I trust you."

When the silver-head made no move to grab the card, the woman pouted. "Please? I'm just asking for one chance. Why be happier on the other side when you can grace the world with your presence?"

He didn't appreciate the way she used his words. Kakashi preferred his utopia over her offer at salvation, but she seemed to be really persistent. She was also semi-guilt-tripping him by the way she pleaded with those intense chocolate eyes. Before he knew it, Kakashi had taken the card out of her hand.

She smiled at him, but Kakashi's attention was on the card. He was surprised that it was a business card from the 'Konoha Daycare'. Ignoring the kiddy design and pictures, Kakashi spotted a name printed in bold. "Nohara Rin," he read out.

"That's me," nodded Rin. "What about you?"

"... Hatake Kakashi."

Rin stifled a laugh. "Scarecrow in the farmland?"

"Shut up." Kakashi didn't like it when people teased his name (he took pride in it). "I'm leaving now. Don't stop me."

As Kakashi began to walk away, Rin called out to him; "Promise you'll come to the daycare?"

The silver-head glanced back. Lazily, he waved his hand. "You have one week."

He didn't know if she was smiling behind him, but he could imagine it on her face.

It was 4:32 AM, and while it was still very early, there were a few early birds. Kakashi walked away, oblivious to the small amount of people walking past him in their outdoor attire (he felt slightly embarrassed at his own choice of clothing, but he was supposed to be dead by now). They stared at him as if he was homeless, and Kakashi thought he might as well be.

Kakashi looked up at the sky and watched the stars. "Nohara Rin," he whispered. She was interesting, but that was the best compliment he could think of. Kakashi still didn't know why she wanted to help him. Was it out of sympathy? Or pity? Maybe she was tricking him– she might've disguised herself as a disabled woman just to gain sympathy points. It would make sense since Rin didn't seem to be bothered by her lack of leg mobility.

Was Rin tricking him so she could kill him? (Not that it mattered to Kakashi, since he wanted to die anyway).

As the questions became farfetched, Kakashi felt a shoulder roughly brush his.

"Excuse me! Wah! Sorry!"

A black-haired man bowed before him in apology. "Sorry for bumping into you!" And with that, he scampered away.

Kakashi shook his head. The man must've been in a rush for a train. He had noted the ridiculous orange goggles dangling from the man's neck, along with his black eyes. They made him strangely youthful. If Kakashi's eyes were soulless, then the man's eyes were childish.

Seeing that childishness still in an adult's eyes was intimidating. Kakashi wondered if he would ever attain that same glow in his eyes.

His eyes traveled to the card in his hand. Or rather, his ticket to salvation.

If I can't find you a reason to live in one week, then you can kill yourself.

Kakashi didn't know if he'd made a deal with a devil or an angel.