He'd been at home for seventy-two hours, locked inside his apartment in self-imposed solitary confinement, curled up in bed with a book that would have made Minato-sensei blush and clear his throat in embarrassment. If his teacher could have seen him now, he would have snatched the novel right out of Kakashi's pale hands. There would have been a lecture about love during which Kakashi would have nodded in all the right places, would have said, "yes, sensei" and "no, sensei" in the grave voice he'd only ever used with his father, Sandaime-sama and Minato-sensei, and as he nodded along dutifully there would have been a hollowness in his heart where understanding should have bloomed.

Needless to say, there was no blushing now, no throat clearing and no lecture, since Minato-sensei was gone. There was only silence, occasionally punctuated by the whisper of a turned page.

Three days earlier

The funeral ceremony was held just outside the remains of the cemetery, in claw marked brown mud that went up to Kakashi's ankles and sucked at his sandals.

Sandaime gave a speech while the survivors looked on. Rows and rows of people dressed in black, their heads lowered to the point where some of them looked like they had nodded off.

Kakashi wasn't really listening to anything the Third was saying. The old man's voice reached his ears as a dull drone, like a persistent hum that carried no meaning at all. Only his teacher's name stood out, and it seemed to pierce him somewhere deep inside whenever it fell. Namikaze Minato, each syllable a crushing weight dropped on him from the merciless heavens.

Namikaze Minato.

They'd carved it into the stone where it would be whipped by wind and rain until, one day, it would be gone too.

Present

He could hear something scrape outside his window. Kakashi didn't need to look to know what it was. Guy. Guy had been coming to his apartment for the last two days. After the funeral he'd given Kakashi exactly twenty-four hours of time to himself before he'd gone straight back to pestering him.

Sometimes Kakashi thought he could hear Guy breathe against the glass or through the crack under the door. He was persistent and thought Kakashi needed him. His support, his friendship, all those silly things that didn't mean anything to Kakashi.

He held the book up in front of his face and drew his knees against his chest. The apartment felt cold to him; it always did these days.

Outside there was a muted clatter as Guy set down whatever treat he'd brought Kakashi today. It was food usually. Dango, udon, tempura, miso, curry, mochi, cake, ramen, an endless parade of dishes had been left on his windowsills, in front of his door, probably even on the roof. He didn't know why Guy had decided to feed him – although it might have something to do with the fact that he hadn't gone shopping in days, the fact that Guy seemed to think he was starving himself.

Kakashi wasn't.

He just wasn't hungry.

Sometimes there'd be notes. They appeared under his door or greeted him, stuck to his window from the outside, whenever he made the mistake of opening the blinds.

I brought this for you!

Hope you like it!

It's super-tasty, I swear! I care about you, Rival!

Kakashi'd frowned at the last one for a long time - the characters were drawn in light blue ink, in Guy's usual sloppy handwriting. The word care had been underlined twice. Care. It'd made his stomach ache. He'd crumpled it up and tossed it into the trash.

Miri-chan was saying "No, no, no" even as her legs quivered and she was thinking "yes,yes,yes". Kakashi flipped to the next page and wasn't surprised to read about how much she was secretly craving cock, how her juices were flowing for it. But still she squeaked, "Don't!" and tried to pull her skirt back down. Shion-san was having none of that, of course.

Reading about sex always made Kakashi's head swim. He found it confusing, even distasteful on some level. He couldn't imagine people like Minato-sensei and Kushina-neesan doing what the characters in his book so gleefully indulged in. He couldn't image them sweating, writhing, clawing at each other. Like animals. He didn't want to.

And yet he couldn't stop reading.

Because it made him feel warm inside, because it made his cheeks flush and his dick grow hard.

He didn't care much for Miri-chan and the descriptions of her soft, supple curves, but Shion…

Kakashi didn't really want to think too much about that.

It was just that girls reminded him of Rin, he told himself. For the past months, he'd been seeing her everywhere. A glimpse of brown hair flashing through his field of vision, and there she was, smiling at him, her lips pale and fragile under all the blood.

The blood.

Kakashi blinked the image away and reread the scene. Miri moaned and whimpered as Shion pounded into her, taking her.

At least nothing like that would ever happen to Rin.

Rin could never have been like that.

Before

Why Kushina-san insisted on treating him like a little kid Kakashi would never understand. He was a shinobi just like her. Sure, he wasn't a jounin yet, but everyone knew that it was only a matter of time at this point. She shouldn't—

"Kakashi-kun, are you paying attention?" She pinched his cheek. No one pinched his cheek – and it hurt."I need you to go down to the store and get some pepper, okay? We're all out and your sensei forgot to pick some up again." She was grinning and pulling at his cheek, which hurt even more.

"I'm not here to—" He had come on official business, to talk about missions, and who did she think he was? Obito? Kakashi tried to get out of her grip, but she was surprisingly strong.

"I think Kakashi actually wanted to talk to me." Suddenly, Minato-sensei was leaning in the doorway as if he had already been there for hours. Kakashi hadn't even sensed his chakra, much less heard any movement.

"Sen—"

Before he could finish his cool greeting, Kushina gasped and launched herself at her boyfriend with a squeal that could only be described at ear-piercing. "Minato!"

Sensei caught her mid-leap, and for a few seconds they just hugged, arms wrapped tightly around each other, Kakashi completely forgotten as Kushina snuggled against Minato-sensei's chest.

Kakashi cleared his throat.

Then he cleared it again, more loudly this time.

Very gently, Minato-sensei pushed Kushina away from him until he held her at arm's length, hands on her shoulders, thumbs still rubbing her collarbone. Kakashi couldn't help but glare at them a little. He hated that doe-eyed look on his teacher's face. It wasn't befitting a shinobi of Minato-sensei's skill at all. And what did he see in her?

"I'll go to the store with Kakashi. We can talk on the way, and when I get back, the two of us can catch up." Minato-sensei's smile was positively dopey; he was blushing, too, his cheeks as pink as cherry blossoms. It was clear that he wasn't talking to Kakashi at all, much less thinking about him.

Frustrated, Kakashi stalked over to the door. "Let's go, sensei," he said without wasting another glance at Kushina. They were done here.

"You should be nicer to Kushina, Kakashi," sensei said the moment the door of the apartment building clicked shut behind them.

"I don't like her." It had slipped out just like that, traitorously in a moment of childish honesty. Beneath the mask, Kakashi bit his lip as if that way he could somehow retroactively bite his tongue. No way to unsay it.

To his surprise, sensei wasn't even a little mad – not that he generally was the type to get angry, but he was usually ready to defend his girlfriend at any cost. Instead of yelling, though, Minato just looked at him a little sadly with those big blue eyes of his. Kakashi knew he was blushing under his mask, so he glanced away, hoping Minato-sensei wouldn't be able to tell.

"She likes you," his sensei said.

Kakashi stared at his feet as he walked. "She doesn't respect me." Even sensei wouldn't be able to argue with that; it was too obvious.

"She… feels for you."

Pity, Kakashi thought, that was what it was, and there was no point dressing it up into euphemisms. He hated nothing more than being pitied. Being pitied by someone like Kushina was the worst.

"You're young; you're like a little brother—" Minato-sensei went on, adding fuel to the fire that he'd ignited in the pit of Kakashi's stomach.

"I'm not!"It came out sharper than he'd intended it to. Like a snake's hiss, fierce and threatening. People on the sidewalk turned their heads, expecting a scene. Kakashi marched on, head lowered, stewing on the inside. What was this fire? "I'm not your little brother; I'm your subordinate. I'm a shinobi." He made the words hard and cold; these were facts he was listing, obvious facts. Kakashi had nothing to hide. He was a weapon; weapons had no secrets.

"I meant her little brother." Kakashi could feel that sky blue gaze on the back of his neck. Minato-sensei could spot weaknesses like no one else, and he struck quick like lightening, but he was merciful, too. Maybe that was why his voice softened. "Kushina cares about you; so do Rin and Obito, for that matter. You should try to get along with them."

Kakashi felt the ground under his feet, the village around him. It gave you a sense of stability and safety; you couldn't help it although you knew it to be treacherous.

"You're not much of a ninja if you can't work in a team," Minato-sensei said when Kakashi didn't reply.

"I do my part. They need to do theirs, that's all there is to it." Kakashi never asked for friendship, never offered it either. Obito hadn't earned his respect. Rin was competent, but he didn't like the way she looked at him sometimes. Like he held all her hopes and fears in the palm of his hand, like every word from his lips carried some hidden message to her. It made him uncomfortable and it made him look down on her.

Minato-sensei sighed. "Look, Kakashi, you could have friends. You don't have to make it so hard for yourself. As for Kushina, I love her."

And it was the truthfulness of that statement that made it feel like a bite from a trusted dog. It made Kakashi's step falter, made his feet stick dumbly to the ground.

"I've loved her for a long time now, and I can't imagine ever not loving her. I want to spend my life with her. So you two have to get along, okay?" Sensei's hand landed on his shoulder. It was big and warm and cruel. Kakashi wanted to shake it off, but it weighed more than the entire world.

He leaned closer, leaned in until the spiky tips of his golden hair brushed the exposed strip of skin next to Kakashi's ear.

"Someday, you'll meet someone, someone who'll change everything, and then you'll understand."

But even then Kakashi only found himself staring at his dusty toes, his face hot, thinking, no I won't.

Present

On the fourth day Kakashi read about Suzu-chan and all her dirty secret desires. Of course she always said no, too, because it was the right thing to do, no matter how much she wanted her classmate Akio-kun, who was tall, dark and handsome and whose muscles rippled under his shirt in subtle invitation. Kakashi tried to picture muscles rippling in invitation. It seemed like something that should be hard to pull off with a straight face, but for some reason he could immediately see Guy, muscles tensing under thin green spandex. It clung to him even more tightly these days because he was growing, and not like Kakashi was, in a slow, imperceptible sort of crawl, but in sudden, violent spurts that made him wake up a few centimeters taller than he had been when he fell asleep.

Or so Guy claimed, at least. He also said his legs ached and he was constantly picking at his chin where tiny, wiry black hairs were beginning to sprout. There were only a handful right now, but it was undeniable that Guy was growing into a man much faster than Kakashi was. At least in some respects.

Inside, Kakashi knew, Guy was still a little boy with a sort of puppyish kind of personality and the unbreakable conviction that, in the end, everything would be alright. It was enough to make you hate him.

Even now.

And there it was, the first of Guy's thrice daily attempts to bring Kakashi out of his shell. He could hear the sound of footsteps on the roof and the chink of Guy setting down whatever meal he'd brought today. Kakashi steeled himself, eye trained on his book in which Suzu-chan was gasping and thrashing and whimpering "No, don't do that; it's embarrassing!" as Akio massaged her ample breasts.

Guy was just like that, Kakashi thought. Like a girl. Bringing him food, running after him, it was something a girl with a crush might do. It was also pathetic and stupid and it reminded him of their sex ed classes at the academy. How sensei'd told them about homosexuality and how unclean it was. "Someone like that can't go to a shrine because it would offend the kami. You are shinobi, not some dirty samurai in the Land of Iron; you are not to stoop to that kind of perversion."

Why was he thinking about that? Kakashi blinked, irrationally annoyed, then he listened carefully. Outside, the footsteps were fading away. Guy had gone training, leaving his offering on the windowsill as if Kakashi himself was some kind of deity.

That idiot.

But his stomach was growling even as he cursed Guy.

He hadn't eaten in what felt like forever. Whenever he tried, he'd think about Kushina-san, trying to force-feed him her cooking, he'd think about Rin bringing him bentô, he'd think about his dad in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and ruffling his hair whenever he walked up to ask what was for lunch.

Just looking at whatever Guy had left for him would make his stomach cramp up, would make it tight like a fist and hurt as if he had swallowed razorblades. Disgusted, he squeezed his eye shut. It couldn't go on like this.

Kakashi slipped out of bed. He was a man, a shinobi… He couldn't just—

It didn't matter, none of it did. None of it. Death was a fact of life. He couldn't be weak about this.

But why, why did it hurt so much? Why could someone as pathetic as Guy live on like nothing had happened while Kakashi—

His legs were rubber, his hands clammy, his heart was palpitating wildly in his chest.

Light slanted in through the blinds, painting the vague outline of whatever sat on his windowsill on the floor.

Kakashi's hand was shaking when he opened the blinds.

He felt faint.

Guy had left him a bowl covered with clear plastic wrap. It was a miracle that the crows hadn't gotten to it yet. Kakashi took it inside, his hands still unsteady. He sat down on the floor and unwrapped it as carefully as if he was afraid it might contain an exploding tag.

There were two huge onigiri inside, and when Kakashi saw them, his hands started shaking even harder. Rin.

Rin offering a bentô box to him. "I made some onigiri for you! I mean… I made some for all of us, so… Please, don't be shy!"

She was smiling, her hair catching the light, making strands of it look golden. She was happy – until Kakashi turned away from her. "I don't like onigiri and you shouldn't waste your time with stuff like this." He hadn't turned around to see the effect his words had on her, but he'd known she was hurt. He just didn't care.

And now he could see her hands falling limply to her sides, blood flowing from her mouth.

The onigiri went blurry before his eye. He tried to blink the tears away, but there was no point.

He couldn't hold back. He couldn't—

Rin, she'd wanted him to eat the onigiri she'd made because she liked him. And he'd—

Without thinking, Kakashi ripped down his mask, took the first onigiri and stuffed it in his mouth. It was too salty or maybe that were just the tears. It didn't matter, nothing did. She'd wanted him to love her and he hadn't.

Kushina-san had wanted him to like her and he hadn't.

Minato-sensei had meant everything to Kakashi, but that hadn't kept him from dying.

Kakashi swallowed hard, almost choking.

Everything he did was wrong.

His stomach hurt; he felt sick.

There'd been a small piece of paper at the bottom of the bowl. Kakashi had picked it up, had stared at it.

Feel better, my Eternal Rival!

On a formerly white square of silky paper, now sprinkled with bits of rice and dried ink splotches. Guy was bad at writing. For a kid his age he was barely literate. He was an idiot.

Why did reading this stupid message make Kakashi's head swim?

Why hadn't he been able to love Rin? Why?

"Kakashi?"

Bleary-eyed, he looked up.

Guy was standing in the open window, framed by sunlight and curtains stirring in the breeze.

"Are you feeling better?"

What do you think, Kakashi wanted to ask, but didn't. What would be the point? Sarcasm was lost on Guy. He wouldn't pick up on it, just start scratching his chin and trying to guess whether Kakashi was feeling better or not.

It should have been obvious, what with Kakashi lying on the floor, holding his stomach, dressed only in pajama pants, with his mask pulled down and flopping uselessly around his neck. But Guy was as dense as Miri-chan and Suzu-chan. He was probably even too dumb to understand his own thoughts.

"Go away," Kakashi growled because thinking about Miri-chan and Suzu-chan and Guy was making him feel strange.

"I want to help you!" Guy hopped into the room as if he'd been invited and began poking around Kakashi's things. "Did you like the onigiri? I tried out a new recipe! I—"

"Shut up."

Kakashi pushed himself onto his feet. He swayed a little, the ground felt like he was walking the plank.

"Hey—" Guy caught his arm to steady him. His hand was warm and felt much bigger than Kakashi's, much stronger. It felt like the kind of hand that could have saved Rin and fought the kyuubi. Kakashi shook his head against the flicker of sickening emotion. Why?

"I didn't ask you for any of this. I just wanted you to leave me alone." He pulled his arm away forcefully, and immediately lost his balance. Guy caught him again, this time, Kakashi ended up in his arms with his cheek against Guy's warm spandex-covered chest.

"You shouldn't—"

"Why are you doing this?" Kakashi interrupted. He felt hot and strangely light, like a part of him was about to float away, even as the rest of him hurt so much he could barely breathe.

"You're my rival and my friend and I—"

"I'm not your friend," Kakashi hissed. "What do you want from me?"

"Kakashi—" Guy was taking a step back, but Kakashi had grabbed the front of his spandex suit and was pulling at it with a strength that even surprised himself. His whole body felt like it was on fire.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, tearing the fabric. He could hear his pulse thrumming, vibrations humming through him, from the tip of his toes to his eardrums and back.

"I don't—What are you doing?" Guy took another step and stumbled. He fell – they fell – and Guy landed on his back like a beetle.

Kakashi was on top of him, his hands around Guy's neck. Birdsong could be heard from outside.

"Oi," Guy gasped. His eyes were huge, bright and glassy like marbles.

"Kakashi, stop!" It sounded almost desperate, but he didn't really mean it. Kakashi knew now what kind of person Guy was. Unclean. Someone like that. Someone who said one thing and meant another.

"Shut up… " His throat felt tight around the words. If Guy really wanted him to stop, Guy wouldn't just be flailing around like a little kid, would he? He was supposed to be a man, wasn't he?

You want this. You're making me do this.

He closed his eye against the looming image of sensei and Kushina-neesan and Obito and Rin.

In the darkness, he could see it still, the orange glow that had hung over the village that night. Fire everywhere and his skin blistering under his mask.

All Kakashi wanted was for everything to burn to ashes.

It was over quickly. He'd been clumsy about it, Kakashi figured. He'd had no experience and there was some blood. But maybe that was to be expected from first times.

Guy stared at him afterwards, when Kakashi had rolled off him. There were tear tracks on his cheeks, but he'd stopped flailing somewhere in the middle and had held quite still, so that meant the tears didn't mean much, didn't it?

Anyway, he did look like a kid now, in his torn up spandex suit. He looked smaller and his big, accusing eyes made Kakashi want to avert his own.

"Why'd you do that?" Guy asked, wiping blood from his nose, like it was Kakashi's fault somehow. Kakashi hadn't punched Guy; Guy'd just hit his head on the floor at some point.

"You hurt me." Guy's voice was completely toneless. He almost sounded like he wanted Kakashi to contradict him, to say that he hadn't meant to.

Except, that would have been a lie, wouldn't it?

Kakashi turned his face away from Guy to the open window.

The sun was shining. It was warm, spring was coming, and there was a feeling rising in his chest. A nausea like he could already smell himself decaying.

But they were all dead anyway, so what did it matter?