Author's Notes:
Yes, another irritatingly long wait! Forgive me… but it looks like the rate of update is here to stay. :/ (The first half of senior year is entirely unpleasant, I have found…)
I was going to write more, but it didn't seem to fit into this chapter… . So this chapter will be rather slow, but it's necessary. I wonder if you guys are starting to see what's affecting our poor Kakashi and Sakura?? There's been a couple major clues people…
Thanks for all the reviews last chapter, and the love.
…Saikai Story- Reunion story…
Chapter fifteen
Finite suspension
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The full head of bright silver hair drew closer in the crowd, lazily drifting through the mass of people milling in the bright morning sunshine.
Haruno Tomeo stiffened, his hand unconsciously tightening on the frail, pale hand clasped in his.
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It had been two years since he had last seen the boy.
Two years of tension-wrought peace.
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It was a peace stolen from a boy who had lost almost everything in life, and part of his identity.
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Beside him, Sakura peered curiously up at her father, wondering what had caused the sudden solemnity emanating from the copper-haired man.
"Otou-san…?"
Haruno smiled down with a distracted air as the young man sporting the mane of silver hair neared, a hitai-ate perched lazily over one eye.
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The copper-haired man stood frozen with baited breath, as Hatake Kakashi's dark-eyed gaze studied a fruit vendor enthusiastically waving an overripe apple in his hand.
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Time seemed to slow, as Kakashi's gaze transferred to himself before casually flicking over to the petal-haired child fidgeting beside him.
Tomeo stopped breathing.
"Ah! Ah! Look! It's Ino-chan!!" Sakura suddenly squealed happily, disentangling her little hand from her father's. Before he could act, she raced towards the silver-haired jounin, calling out her friend's name.
Kakashi barely gave the child a second glance as she passed him to meet her blonde friend.
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Tomeo breathed again.
Haruno watched, transfixed, as the ANBU commander continued on, disinterested eyes meeting Haruno Tomeo's unmoving gaze, before disappearing onto a different street and out of the copper-haired man's sight.
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Silence greeted the Uchiha's words.
The silver haired man stared uncomprehendingly at the dark-haired boy, frozen in the act of toweling his hair. His eyes slowly widened.
"…… What…?"
It was taking longer than it should for words to process in the exhausted jounin's mind.
Perched precariously in the open windowsill, Sasuke only regarded the silver-haired man with inscrutable onyx eyes that focused onto Kakashi's visible features with disconcerting intensity. For once, the hitai-ate wasn't drooped in its customary position over Kakashi's Sharingan eye.
It was slightly eerie to see his clan's heritage and birthright on the face of someone who wasn't an Uchiha. Even odder to see that almost predatory crimson orb framed by strands of bright silver bordering on white, instead of black.
Tendrils of bitterness drifted back into Sasuke's mind, momentarily clouding his perception, as his thoughts turned to the only other living Uchiha.
Silence fell once again, almost languidly settling over the two unmoving shinobi, broken only by the faint raindrops falling in a steady rhythmic beat from a dismally grey sky.
The young Uchiha forced his mind back to the present, his eyes centering on the confused, uncomprehending expression on Kakashi's face.
The dark-haired chuunin's keen eyes took in the dead beat lines of Kakashi's drooping shoulders, eyed the newly acquired bandages on said jounin's left hand. He briefly wondered how difficult the mission had been for even the skilled copy ninja to acquire injuries.
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Shaking aside his straying thoughts, Sasuke impatiently tossed the dark bangs out of his eyes in a curt movement.
"I said, Sakura's fallen unconscious." He repeated slowly. "It happened about one day into your mission," the Uchiha added after a moment, watching the tall jounin blink at him.
Kakashi continued to blink slowly, processing the unexpected information into his weary mind.
"Nobody knows what's wrong with her," Sasuke continued.
Kakashi's hand fumbled with the towel for a moment as his loosened grip caused the soft cloth to gravitate towards the ground. Sasuke's eyes flashed almost imperceptibly.
The silver-haired man frowned, behind the dark fabric mask covering the lower portion of his face.
"How is she?" The jounin asked, his brows furrowed slightly as he stared at his student. Sasuke's face darkened.
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It had been two days since Sakura's lapse into unconsciousness.
Two days full of anxiety.
Two days full of pale silence.
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"Dammit Sakura…"
Blue eyes, dimmed with worry, regarded the motionless form on the hospital bed with poorly concealed sadness.
A hand settled on the blond's shoulder, as he clenched his fists together.
"Isn't there anything we can do to help, Tsunade-baba??" he asked lowly. The well-endowed woman gave a soft sigh before once again shaking her head regetfully.
"I don't know what's wrong with her…" she responded bleakly.
Naruto bowed his head, before shaking off the warm hand on his shoulder with a sharp jerk of his arm and turning abruptly to leave the stark white, dead silent hospital room.
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Hatake Kakashi had arrived in Konoha two hours beforehand. Two hours since the completion of the ANBU level mission.
Two hours of distracted self-ministrations, wondering at the uneasy prickling of his skin.
Two hours of unconscious waiting.
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"Congratulations on a mission well done, Hatake-san."
In response, the silver-haired man lowered the upper half of his body in a stiff, formal bow, fighting back a pained grimace as his muscles screamed in protest at the movement. He straightened again, feeling his temporary subordinates straighten as well behind him.
He raised his eyes and scanned the Hokage's face briefly, seeing the lines of weariness and a trace of anxiety visible in the smooth lines of her yet-youthful face. She met his gaze evenly, but Kakashi's gaze darted down to the taut skin over her knuckles, as she gripped the teacup with a tightness that belied her troubled demeanor.
Tsunade looked down first, before the piercing gaze found the source of her discomfort.
"You are dismissed."
One by one, the members of the ANBU squad turned to leave, some disappearing in a cloud of dense smoke, or trudging out of the door with heavy steps.
Kakashi turned to leave as well, but the Godaime's voice, uncharacteristically soft, stopped his footsteps.
"Hatake…"
He turned, his one visible eye lingering inquisitively on the woman's clear brown orbs. She opened her mouth, to speak, before snapping it shut again with a small shake of her head.
"You may go." She muttered, sinking into the high back of her chair. His brows furrowed as he caught her softly murmured words over the sounds of his soft footsteps.
"He'll find out soon enough…"
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Kakashi's lips tightened into a thin line, the sense of foreboding deepening until he could almost imagine seeing it materializing in the dark grey clouds lying low in the sky.
So this, then, was what he had been waiting for?
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"She's… " Sasuke hesitated, his dark onyx eyes surveying the masked man with an unreadable expression before his voice trailed off into silence. Kakashi raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the boy's lack of willingness to give information.
Why the hell was he here, if he wasn't going to talk?
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"Sasuke, I'm not in the mood for games," the silver-haired jounin said tiredly after a lengthy second had dragged by. "Either tell me or don't." He directed a pointed stare towards the younger Sharingan user before dropping the towel carelessly onto a nearby sofa and heading to the kitchen.
Sasuke stayed where he was, watching the man disappear from his line of vision.
...
What was he supposed to say anyways?
The Uchiha allowed a brief scowl to surface on his face, just as Kakashi reappeared in the living room, a half-empty cup of water in hand. Sasuke watched in silence as the jounin set the glass onto a nearby counter. The gentle clink of glass hitting the smoothed wooden surface sounded rather loudly in the tense atmosphere.
"I've said all that I need to. I'm leaving," the Uchiha said curtly. He crouched again, preparing to duck underneath the low edge of the apartment window's frame, and found himself looking back at the jounin.
Kakashi finished the last of the water and set down the glass cup on small side table near the beige-toned couch. The silver-haired man regarded his student with a calm, if somewhat weary, gaze.
"Which room." It was a question, but the lingering sense of lethargy overrode the usual nuances of tone, and deadened his voice to a low monotone.
"244."
The dark-haired Uchiha disappeared from sight, as the sounds of falling rain became more pronounced beneath a darkening sky. Kakashi neared the open window slowly, his eyes noting with detached interest the windowsill slick with rainwater, dripping droplets of water onto the smooth wooden floors.
"……"
He closed the window with a fluid motion, his movements only slightly hampered by the bandages on his hand.
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Room 244.
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He recognized that room number.
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Kakashi stared past the rain-streaked glass to the overcast shinobi village laid out in dull detail before him. A few people lingered on the streets, guards changing watches and on break, as well as the regular patrols that were enforced by the new Hokage to ensure citizen safety.
His eyes clouded.
Room 244.
The room that his father had breathed his last in…
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A dim silhouette broke away from the darkness of the unlit corridor and silently made its way down the smoothly worn wooden floor, illuminated dimly by the soft light filtering through the thick paper of the shoji paneled wall dividing the hallway from the kitchen.
The outline of beautifully painted traditional-style sakura trees in full bloom shone darkly against the warm light shining in the kitchen.
Soft feminine voices sounded softly in the silence, somber and hushed. The melodic tones were barely distinguishable from the downpour of rain rattling overhead and the vengeful wind whispering inanities into the unwary listener's mind.
He continued down the hallway, where the almost translucent light penetrated less, leaving the end of the current corridor he was in darker than he would have liked.
The light seemed insufficient, in comparison to the darkened skies that hung heavily outside the rain-streaked glass.
Sandal-clad feet stopped before a dead-end wall, just before an ornate rug patterned in muted tones of red.
The soft light touched upon strands of loose, copper hair that hung down past an aged, tan face, throwing the features of the craggy surface into sharp-relief. Shadows hung in the crevices of brow and mouth, deepening as the placid surface twisted into a frown.
It was a face that had seen many battles and survived; a face that had seen time as a river, ever flowing and linear, unable to halt the progressive journey down the expansive watercourse.
The man stooped, his crouched form moving out of the soft light's range so that he was barely distinguishable from the shadows shrouding him. A hand slowly reached out and swept aside the rug before him with a deliberate, yet almost tentative movement.
Soft muttered words sounded in the relative silence, followed by a flaring of bluish light.
The chakra-produced light drowned out the vestiges of the warm light filtered from the kitchen, casting everything in the near vicinity in stark contrast. The pale, pulsing light illuminated the outline of a concaved handle carved into the wooden flooring.
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Tomeo Haruno's mouth tightened.
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Too many secrets…
Too many mistakes…
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Too little time to unravel them all.
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He firmly grasped the handle and pulled the door open.