Chapter 2 - Heaven

Angst. We've never written angst together before, and we feel like utter,utter bastards for doing it to Kakashi. There'll be more humour (we speak fluent crack) later.



Interesting (not really, but anyway) note: this isn't a long one-shot, but it took us until one in the morning to write because we kept having to stop to make stupid jokes and drink tea. Tea fortifies us against the angst. We recommend it for all your less-than-cheerful readings. Earl Grey for preference.



Chapter the Second: Heaven -Kakashi[/u]


He couldn’t sleep. Too muggy. He’d balled his blanket up and thrown it away hours ago, his pajamas had soon followed, but the air in the room was so heavy,so damp that it hadn’t done any good. It sat on his chest like a living weight,pinning him to the sheets.


He couldn’t sleep: he’d heard that a glass of milk could help, but his fridge was empty. He didn’t like the idea of cooking a meal for one person, so he didn’t eat much, and never alone. Between training and missions, it was the most time he ever spent with people these days. People were a balm. A little bit at a time, and only when he needed to.


There’d been people around him once, all the time. Maybe it’d been too much.He thought so now, anyway. Medicine. Too much all at once and it’d be enough to make you ill. But perhaps, just… perhaps. He could imagine.


Perhaps made its way into his dreams, these days. His waking dreams,even, like the one he was having now. He rolled onto the floor, his face pressed against the hard wood, made no effort to move. The air settled on his back and pressed him down. Perhaps…


…they had never died. There’d been a wedding. A big one, probably in spring. There’d been the smell of cherry blossoms, faint on the breeze. He’d uncovered his face, just for them. Just to feel the breeze cooling his cheeks.He’d even given the bride a kiss, just a quick one, just to see …Obito splutter and huff. That night he’d gone to sleep with their laughter still in his ears and a smile on his lips.


And there’d been children, of course. Their house had rung with shouts and laughter, all the time, so loud that he could swear that he sometimes heard it at his home. Obito would turn up sometimes on his doorstep, seeking reprieve,and he’d share hot sake with him before he had to go back.
Sometimes, Minato would be there too, and his home was almost like a sanctuary to them. They’d tell him how lucky he was to still be “unattached”,but they’d smile when they said it and he knew they weren’t as unhappy as they’d have him believe. He could still smell the sake on Minato’s breath as he slung an arm around his shoulders and imparted drunken words of wisdom. Then he’d be the one to steer him home and try to explain to his wife that it was the last time, really…


And then he’d go home and… and…


There’d be someone there. Someone who’d mumble sleepily at him when he came in late, whom he’d wake up beside in the early hours of the morning. There’d be soft skin under his fingertips, and long hair spread over his pillows, tickling his nose. He could very nearly imagine the scent of it. A clean scent, like shampoo or soap.


The floor felt sticky against his skin. He must have fallen asleep; his right arm was numb. A shower, or at least a wash in the sink, he thought. His skin was clammy all over and stuck to the floor when he went to stand. It made a noise like a bandage being pulled off. He ran a hand over his face and felt the raised skin of his scars.


Perhaps had been sneaking into his dreams again. Maybe he’d need the balm again tomorrow.


Editting? What's that? May we have a cup of tea, now?

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