Soul Searching

A/N: A couple things. Thanks to Sammy/MissyQuill for helping me finally find a title and other miscellaneous things.

Also, this story is written for the Mythology challenge put on by Zelha and is based on the story of Pygmalion and Galatea. I'll include a short synopsis of their story at the very end of the fic. Being that this was written for a challenge and we're to post on a particular day, this fic is complete, but is large enough I thought it too massive for a one-shot, so I'm posting it in smaller, more manageable pieces.

Hope you all enjoy.

Part I

Sakura was dead, to begin with.

It had been over a year now since her death, yet still Kakashi couldn't get past it, couldn't blot out the image of her lifeless body. Of course he couldn't, he thought ruefully, not unless he lost his eye at the very least.

He'd never imagined things would play out this way though. Oh yes, he knew well enough that Sakura had both the temperament and the determination to strike out after Sasuke on her own. Whether she'd gone to fight him, to try to talk sense into him, or to join up with him – either in truth or as a mole – he was discomfited to say he couldn't be sure. And now they'd never know. At least it was some consolation to know Sasuke hadn't had a direct hand in her death, considering she'd had no wounds on her body. Though dying in Orochimaru's lab, when the two had so many ties to each other, wasn't promising either.

Glancing out at the rain Kakashi tried to shake off the melancholy. Something about the weather made him feel isolated with his ghosts, much the same as he felt when he visited the memorial. While such recollections or penance were hardly bad things, he had other things to be doing…like paperwork. Looking down at his desk he sighed. Mountains and mountains of paperwork.

This was one part of the job he truly didn't enjoy. He didn't enjoy any of it really, but this particular chore gave him a special understanding for Tsunade and her stash of sake. At times like this it just made him wish she'd managed to miss a couple bottles when she'd packed up the office, but considering how long he'd held the job now, any strays would have been long gone anyway.

Maybe he'd ask Shizune to pick some up for him next time she went to visit Tsunade. Despite her age, the former hokage still had fantastic taste in sake and even better contacts from which to procure said drink. Surely she wouldn't mind sparing him a bottle or four. After all, no one knew better than she did exactly what it was like to be cooped up in that office all day with few companions save for the endless piles of reports to sort through.

Frankly, he hated the job. But he loved the one who wanted it next and so that's why he held on to it. Sakura's death had broken something in Naruto, he'd seen it in his eyes when he'd told him the news. The kid was still off the track, his ambition slowed for the time being, but Kakashi had no doubt that, at twenty-four, he was starting to feel the restless need to have his childhood ambition fulfilled.

Kakashi wished he could spare him, deter him somehow, but Naruto was so stubborn Kakashi was sure he'd still want the job even if he also came to hate it, just because he'd declared he would so many times, just because the village needed someone to lead and protect it. He was slowly starting to see how unglamorous the job was through Kakashi's carefully dropped hints, but it wasn't enough. Kakashi just wished he would understand it was so much more than boredom, restlessness, and relentless paperwork.

It was day after day of guilt stacking up on top of the next. It was sending out another nin in his place – because as the hokage he didn't have the right to place his life in danger as he wished – and seeing that nin come back so crippled he'd never go out on the field again. It was sending a group out on a mission and hearing the report that they were all dead, dead, dead, because of his decision to send them out, because he should've sent more numbers or more powerful shinobi, or seen that it was a trap, or that he should've just declined the mission altogether.

As of that moment he was responsible for more deaths in Konoha than any external enemy, and because that tore him up inside, and because he was already so irreparably damaged, he did the only thing he could and held on to this role with an iron grip.

Stifling an irritable sigh he swiped at some papers from a nearby stack on his desk. The rain always made him so damn philosophical and nothing was better for dispelling that than sparring – or tedious paperwork if one was the hokage and stuck indoors all day.

Although…he glanced over the papers he held and then looked back at the pile he'd grabbed them from. 'Top Level Security: Experimental.' Well then, maybe not so mundane after all.

Sitting back in his chair with a satisfied smile he flexed his arms in front of him, cracking his knuckles. It had been a while since he'd had the chance to go through anything in this category, which was full of all sorts of interesting and unknown jutsu. Some were forbidden, some were found in old, dusty records with no explanations as to what they did or where they came from originally, and some had been taken from enemies, but there were very important similarities between them all. Konoha didn't know what they did, how they worked, and most importantly, how they could aid or hinder the village.

It was Kakashi's way of rebelling against the elders that he took on the research himself. His excuse was that his Sharingan made him more able to decipher what the jutsu was about, which was true enough. Partly, though, it was because he felt enough guilt at handing dangerous assignments over to subordinates. But primarily it was one of the few things about the job he truly enjoyed, even if most of the time he never got to perform the jutsu and simply tagged them, 'too dangerous', 'to review later', 'have it looked over by a byakugan', or other similar scribblings.

Sometimes though he really hit pay dirt – like the time he activated a jutsu that had turned everything in his office bright red. He'd have sworn a couple objects had actually been glowing, they'd been so fluorescent. He was sure it was the kind of thing a nutty old crackpot would do, maybe as some petty revenge on a colleague, or a prank on a friend, or heck, just sheer boredom. When he'd found the jutsu's notation and discovered it had indeed come from some long forgotten filing room he couldn't help but laugh. It sounded like the kind of thing Naruto would do.

In fact, he was so taken with the idea he told the younger man about it, suggesting that should Naruto come up with something equally inane and ridiculous, he should just maybe consider likewise hiding it without name or explanation. (Unfortunately, he had to tell Naruto that he couldn't do that with his sexy-no-jutsu. The person finding it in the future could get offended or, like Ebisu, possibly pass out from blood loss, leading it to be misconstrued as a malevolent jutsu, which could lead to all sorts of miscommunication depending on what other documents were found around the jutsu.) When Naruto had looked so downhearted at the idea, he'd assured him that by the time this mystery jutsu was discovered his sexy-no-jutsu was bound to already be famous in and of its own right anyhow and would also be, therefore, instantly recognizable.

Naruto had brightened visibly at the idea, then shot off, cackling, to start hatching his plans.

Even now Kakashi chuckled anytime he found a red item in his office that had escaped the cleanup, relishing the thought of what he'd unleashed on some poor unsuspecting research nin in the future. On the other hand, he liked to think that the one to find it might be another hokage-type, and heavens knew, whoever it was would be able to use all the levity they could get.

As it was, he went over the mystery document in his hand cursorily, sighing when it proved to be nothing exciting. At least that meant he could likely perform the jutsu today without much risk. In fact, it looked pretty bland: simply what looked like a cross between a henge and a bunshin, with a few extra hand signals thrown in here and there in what seemed almost a haphazard fashion. The only thing even remotely interesting about it was that the author was very particular about those signs and just when to do them, how long to hold them, how long the pause was to be between each one, and how closely the hands were to be held from the body – slightly different for each one.

Kakashi thought it likely those instructions didn't really matter and were either the ramblings of an obsessive-compulsive performer or a teacher trying to instruct a difficult student. Still, he'd be stupid to ignore such specific directions so he carefully laid them out, practicing in pieces ,multiple times over, in order to make sure he got the timing and distances right.

Finally satisfied with his run-throughs, he performed the jutsu in its entirety, following the articles to the minutest detail. The result was…underwhelming.

Standing in front of him was a figure he could only describe as humanoid. Well, probably. The thing had no face, no clothing, no shape, no gender specifying parts, nothing. It seemed more like a doll than anything else, or perhaps a lump of clay a sculptor had just started on, not having yet gotten to giving it defining characteristics, a completely blank slate. It didn't even move save for breathing – though how it could breathe with no nose or mouth he had no idea.

Sure he must have done something wrong, lest this in truth be a jutsu even stranger and more useless than having the ability to turn everything in the vicinity red, he bent back to the scroll. After a moment though the skin at the back of his neck prickled and he sensed a change in the room. Worried the jutsu summoned up a monster which concealed its appearance at first, Kakashi spun out of his chair into a defensive position, scroll in one hand and kunai in the other.

What he saw stopped him dead and he barely muffled an exclamation of surprise. The doll had now transformed into the exact image of Sakura.

He waited a few more minutes, watching the figure, searching for any further movement or signs of aggression, but upon seeing none he finally rose from his crouch. Setting the scroll inside, but keeping his kunai out just in case, he cautiously made his way closer to examine the thing.

She still breathed, her chest rising and falling in a slow, easy patterns, but aside from that she did not move. Heart pounding in his chest he slowly circled her, nothing that most everything about her was exactly the same as the last time he'd seen her. Well…before.

He stared, momentarily caught off guard by the small scar on her neck. He'd been there when she'd gotten that one. Nothing more than a small nick, but bleeding profusely enough he'd had to cover her back while she healed herself mid-battle. That had only been about two and a half years ago so it was one of her newer scars.

He glanced back at the scroll. Was this supposed to happen? Was it supposed to pull up the mirror image of someone he'd lost? Because if so, it was a cruel joke; his heart clenched just at the sight of her.

Standing just to her side, he couldn't stand being in front of her and looking at those sightless eyes, he pressed his kunai gingerly against her skin. He watched in amazement as the skin gave under the pressure and wondered at just how realistic this doll was. Then he replaced the kunai with his fingers, drawing them down up her arm and feeling the slight imperfections, the divots and scars, even a small burn, all of which he knew by sight. Then they jumped from her shoulder to the ends of her hair and he was no longer surprised when they held the same weight and gravity, the same texture as normal hair, that small strands of it flew away at the provocation of his fingers.

Inhaling sharply he pulled away from her, wondering what he had just discovered. He looked back at the scroll, then at this Sakura doll, and back again, before shaking his head, bemused. Deciding there was much more to be gleaned in this experiment he came to the conclusion that he needed to explore this particular jutsu further, to see if this truly was the intended result and what the core purpose was.

After all, his sharingan allowed him to copy a jutsu he saw performed, but he still had to practice to perfect other jutsu just like any other shinobi, and there was no saying he'd done this one correctly. What if this was an abnormality, a completely unintended result?

There was just no knowing until he was sure he'd performed the jutsu perfectly. So for now he followed the instructions at the end of the scroll to dispel the jutsu, thankfully much simpler and easier than the technique to perform it into existence, and watched as Sakura's visage disappeared.

He sat back and took a deep breath, stashing the scroll in a safe location for now. He'd look at it again later…much later. That had nothing to do with how his heart was pounding wildly, how his hands shook slightly and his composure was shaken. He simply needed time to consider the justu's components, that was all. It wasn't like he wasn't frightened of facing up to a dead friend again and having that wound ripped open.

He was the hokage. Of course it couldn't be anything like that.

Over the next couple weeks Kakashi performed the jutsu a handful of times, always with the same result: he had his own life-like Sakura doll to take up space in his already cramped office.

At least the shock had worn off after the first couple attempts and he was able to look at the experiment and its results mostly clinically. He didn't know if it proved there was something wrong with him that it was almost oddly comforting to have here there, even knowing this doll had nothing to do with the Sakura he'd known, but there was a familiarity that came with it that sometimes softened the heavy blows he was dealt daily in his position.

Now he poured pored over the scroll again, hoping he'd adjusted his timing properly this time to succeed in performing the jutsu correctly in its entirety. After about his fourth attempt with the scroll he'd realized there was supposed to be something more to it, and his curiosity near burned with his desire to know whether this Sakura he'd called up with just a step in the process, as if she were supposed to be something more, or if by making a misstep he'd achieved something the original creator had never intended. So just for his own reference he'd also marked elsewhere just how he'd managed to summon this doll, just in case.

He finished the last sign, his timing perfect, and he stared with anticipation at the formless creature that stood before him, wondering how long he'd have to wait this time before it took Sakura's shape. It was taking forever, much longer than it ever had before, and goosebumps broke out on his forearms as he sensed something was inherently different about this time.

"Kakashi?"

The familiarity of the voice, despite its hesitance and wonder, stole over him like a wave of cold water, quashing his startle reflex at hearing a voice where surely there could be none. With agonizing slowness his eyes rose from the parchment in front of him to stare in disbelief at the doll that was no longer a doll, but the embodiment of Sakura, beyond just appearance but down to her stance and the way she held her arms slightly askew. The copy held out its arms and stared down at itself as if just as confused as him. It turned eyes the perfect shade of green at him and held out a hand beseechingly.

"Kakashi, it's me, Sakura!"

"I know very well who you look like, but you're not her. Sakura's dead."

She – it – shook its head, confusion melting away into fervor. "But I'm not, can't you see? I'm right here!" Even the note of righteous indignation in its voice had just the right touch and Kakashi cursed himself for ever finding the scroll.

"Impossible," he said firmly. "I examined Sakura's body myself." He'd had to, had to use the Sharingan to confirm that it was truly Sakura and not a replacement Orochimaru had set to throw them off the trail, or to see if there were any traces of the cause of her death – most likely an experimental jutsu – left to examine. There'd been nothing to see but the empty cask of someone he'd once called a friend.

"I know," it said softly.

The silence pulled out taut as they eyed each other warily.

"Ah," Kakashi said at last. "I finally know what's happened here. It truly is brilliant, if with something of a sick twist. Without an object in mind the user's chakra simply creates a formless body, the user's own chakra molding it into that which he most wants to see. You came out just as I remember you because it's my energy creating you."

With a sudden panicky look she tried to forestall him. "Kakashi, wait-"

But it was too late. He'd already dispelled the jutsu, the false body vanishing before his eyes, and he was left alone once again, the sudden silence deafening in his ears.

Suddenly conscious of how closed in he felt, of how small the room was with his piles of paper, he pushed himself up to stand behind his desk and moved to open the window. Even the hokage deserved a break every now and then, and he felt he'd earned one after facing up to that sham of a jutsu.

Kakashi wanted to declaim it as a sick joke, but all shinobi – himself included – knew the pain of loss. He could well imagine someone so unwilling to accept the cold truth of reality, to let go of those he had loved, coming up with just such a trick.

He was all too aware of the temptation though, how it could draw a man to stay trapped in the past instead of living his full life in the present. Even he wasn't immune and his mind flashed through scenarios of old conversations he'd never gotten the opportunity to have, and the appeal was striking, despite knowing it wasn't real, that he'd essentially just be talking to himself.

He shook his head to clear it. No, the cold, grey day was just what he needed. So taking a deep, steadying breath, he plunged outside.

A/N: The rest is coming up shortly. The fic is complete I just found it too massive to post as a one-shot. Reading oneshots of that size has always intimidated me personally so I aimed to chop it up into more manageable bits