Dirty Little Secret

CHAPTER 2





The days Kakashi spent in the hospital blurred into one long, feverish nightmare. At first, he wasn’t able to leave his bed at all. Not that he didn’t try. He did try a few times, when he decided that spending weeks on end being fed only the lightest of soups and peeing in a catheter was too much of an indignity. The result was that Daisuke stopped his painkillers and when that wasn’t enough of a deterrent he threatened to have him restrained. Much to his own annoyance, Kakashi backed down at the determined expression on the young man’s face and promised to be good. The medic that was responsible for that part of the field hospital came every few days to check on the wound and make sure that the dressings were properly changed, then left without a word.



The first time Kakashi saw the ruin of his leg he felt sick – not because the sight was that gruesome – it was mostly healed by now, but because he saw the huge damage done to muscle and bone – his kneecap had been completely shattered, a lot of tissue apparently had been completely removed all the way to his hip, leaving a large, concave, ugly scar behind. The jounin was no doctor but he had enough experience to know that there was no way to regain full mobility of that leg. He refused to eat that day and not even Umiko’s speeches and Daisuke’s threats could reach him at that moment.



There were no news from Naruto – the young man hadn’t shown up at all at the hospital, but he did send a steady line of supplies, or as steady as it could be in the current circumstances and everyone were almost pathetically grateful. Kakashi knew that his former student had his hands more than full in his current position, and yet part of him hoped that he would come to visit, at least for a little bit.



What he did not expect, however, was to have Tenzo of all people to show up at his door one day – thin and with haunted eyes, looking at least ten years older than he ought to be.



“You look like crap.” Kakashi blurted out before he could stop himself.



“Says the man who had been couped up in bed for the past two months.” Tenzo shot back, but the corners of his lips twitched into a smile.



“Actually, they allow me to be out of it, as long as someone helps me into a wheel-chair.” He mumbled. So far, there had been no volunteers – there was no way that Umiko could lift him and Daisuke was too exhausted to. So technically he hadn’t left the bed.



Tenzo apparently caught on that fact and grinned at him, then sharply pulled up his covers and slid his hands under Kakashi’s knees and back, and then lifted. As he carried him to the wheelchair in the corner of the room he frowned down at him.



“You’ve lost a lot of weight.”



“You live off fish broth for so long and you’d begin to look like a fashion model too.” Kakashi grumbled.



“Want me to bring you a dress?”



If he wasn’t worried that Tenzo might drop him if he slapped him upside the head, he would have. So he contented himself only with a furious frown directed at him. The younger man dutifully ignored it and carefully deposited him on the wheelchair, then covered his legs with the blanket. Moving behind him he pushed him out of the room.



As his colleague wheeled him through the soot-marked, blood-stained corridors of what used to be a Ninja Academy, Kakashi actually felt apprehensive. He hadn’t left the room for so long that now he was almost afraid to do it, as ridiculous as it was.



When they finally got into the yard, the bright sunlight blinded him for a moment and he squinted until his eyes adjusted. It hadn’t changed that much, really. If there had been any rubble or bodies, they had long been cleaned. The swings were gone and some of the trees as well, but otherwise the yard itself looked liked it used to. Of course, on the other end of the street some of the houses were collapsed or burned, the lucky ones only missed their windows. It seemed that those that were still standing were abandoned.



“There were so many casualties…” Tenzo murmured when he followed the direction of Kakashi’s gaze “More than half of Konoha’s houses are empty now.” His large, warm hand fell on Kakashi’s shoulder and brought back feverish memories.



“Forgive me for not visiting for so long – I was on a mission.” He reached and squeezed the hand.



“Mission?”



“At Wave Country. Naruto wants to trade with them at discount prices so he can feed the survivors. Unfortunately, with Tazuna-san’s passing last year, their gratitude towards us also seems to have died off. I haggled for weeks with them.”



“I’m sure you succeeded.” Kakashi said.



“Yes, I did, actually. Facing your student with four tails out now seems like an easier task in comparison.” The young man grumbled good-naturedly.



At that, Kakashi looked up to him:



“The jutsu worked?”



“Yes. Naruto merged with Kyuubi completely. It appears that was the reason for his odd appearance when he charged Danzou in the end.”



“And Sasuke? Where is he?” he asked the question that had been burning him all along, ever since he woke up.



Tenzo shrugged.



“Who knows. He left shortly after the battle was over. The Hokage-sama was not happy.” He paused and frowned. “Not happy at all.”



“I see.”



He had expected it, but it still hurt. Still, Kakashi felt a sliver of gratitude that at least Sasuke had survived the battle.



After a short silence, Tenzo said mournfully:



“The Hokage has forbidden people from even saying Sasuke-kun’s name in his presence. His leaving really hurt him.”



Kakashi nodded sadly - he had expected as much.



“After that last battle… how many survived? No one has visited me in here.”



Tenzo sighed behind him.



“A few. Ibiki and Gai. Also, Iruka, remember him?”



“Vaguely.”



“Lee died – took a blow for Gai-san.”



Kakashi closed his eyes – he didn’t even want to begin to imagine how his colleague had taken that loss.



“Almost all jounins were wiped out, unfortunately.” Continued Tenzo. “Those that survived are working themselves into the ground to keep things running around here. As everyone else, it seems. I’m sorry if you felt lonely.”



“I wasn’t lonely” Kakashi answered sharply. Perhaps too sharply. “Just worried.”



Tenzo dropped the subject. Heavy, uneasy silence blanketed them. The afternoon heat began to settle, making the air above the ground shimmer elusively. The crickets in the grass by the road seemed to enjoy that, because they got louder than ever.



“I will go now.” Tenzo said suddenly.



“Tenzo, I’m sorry…” Kakashi began, but the younger man raised his hand and silenced him.



“It’s fine. I really need to go and report to the Hokage-sama. You rest and save your strength. It seems to me that you’re going to needed, if you’re to get up from this wheel chair.”



Thankfully, Tenzo did continue to visit him from time to time, bringing him books – his beloved Icha Icha series – though ever since Jiraiya’s passing it hurt to read it – a few new changes of clothes and once actual onigiri.



Slowly, Kakashi began to attempt to get back onto his feet, with the help of crutches and only for a few minutes a day at first – an effort which left him feeling boneless with utter exhaustion. His leg was almost unresponsive, stiff and barely mobile – and when he did try to move it there was blinding pain all the way up to his side.



Still, Kakashi was a determined, obstinate man – he persevered, and with help from an over enthusiastic Daisuke he slowly began to recuperate. The truth was, it was far too slow for his taste. Sometimes, it seemed like he would be able to walk again and filled with hope – only to discover that it was a momentary condition and the pain resettled. He tried, over and over again, for weeks on end, and then the weeks turned into months, but the best he could achieve in the end was walking while leaning heavily on a cane.



They discharged him that day, when he was finally able to go up and down the hospital stairs without keeling over or sitting down to rest a bit. He packed his meager possessions – the changes of clothes and the books in a small bag that he slung over his shoulder and after saying goodbye, he limped out of the hospital and onto the street, beginning the walk back to his apartment. That is, if the building was still standing.



Turned out that it was, even if it was as windowless and singed here and there. The landlord, it turned out, had been killed in the action and now the tenants lived there without paying rent, much to their relief. Kakashi’s as well, as much as he was sorry for the man, he couldn’t afford to pay him at the moment.



He limped up the stairs and finally reached his front door only to see that the place had been broken into. Tentatively, he stepped inside and winced at the mess he saw – broken furniture, torn clothes, papers strewn around all over the place – apparently marauders had passed through the place and helped themselves to his possessions.



The photos of him with Minato, Rin and Obito and Team 7 were lying in a corner, their frames cracked, the glass broken and glittering in pieces around the smiling faces. He ignored the other rubble and went to pick them up and carefully clean them, then put them on the window sill –the one place that wasn’t covered by some kind of junk. For a moment, Kakashi paused to stare at them – memories of a happier time. As always, looking at those pictures felt like a kick in the gut, because they were a monument of his guilt. He had failed all those people, failed them so completely that it left a bitter taste in his mouth just thinking about it.