| [Sep. 1st, 2008|04:08 pm] |
The sharp wind whipped the scents away, replacing them with the convoluted tangle that was Konoha on an active day. Kakashi could hear nothing over the pounding blood in his own ears. He made it to the roof mostly on instinct and desperation, searching for somewhere safe to hide and think, and completely failed to notice the man following him.
Until a hand landed on his shoulder.
The threat shocked straight through the ragged remains of his common sense, wrenching both eyes open and both hands up even as he turned--
And found Ryouma.
In the red-nightmare realm of Obito's fully-open sharingan, he looked exactly like he had when Kakashi first found him; barely alive, mostly broken.
This time Kakashi didn't have mission-focus to fall back on. There was no armour to lose himself in. No destination he had to reach, or enemy he had to beat. They'd gotten home. He'd brought them back.
And Ryouma was still bleeding out on the bare slate roof.
It wasn't real.
He couldn't make it stop.
Kakashi tore himself away, covered his face with both hands and screamed. |
|