A NERVOUS JOLT strikes the pit of his stomach, yet he still ignores it. his eye roams back and forth across the engraving on the stone, almost idly glossing over – that is, until the words start to echo in his head. such a soft whisper, clear as day yet farther away than the expanse of the widest ocean. sharply, his lifts, gaze focusing upon the horizon out of a lingering fear of seeing something he didn’t want to. paranoia as some would call it, one in the most ironic sorts.
YET HE IS startled back to reality: that voice is very real, and he turns slowly to see the body it belonged to very real as well. the sight of her standing there is enough of a shock to leave him paralyzed. the pounding of his heart is just as painful as it was on that day. is this someone’s cruel idea of a joke?
❝ WH-WHAT THE…! how – !? what the hell’s going on!? WHO ARE YOU!? ❞
THAT LOOK IN his eye, it leaves her frozen. it’s like he doesn’t recognize her, yet knows her all too well. constantly conflicting, every truth bears a hidden secret. there are no absolutes anymore; they’ve been reduced to tragic oxymorons. what they knew isn’t the same -- even looking at kakashi now, he is the one that swore to protect her, refused to hurt her. he was kind, cared for his team in his own way. but standing before her, rin could see that shinobi was buried deep, suffocated by something different. a self-loathing so strong she could feel it even with the distance between them. he is him, but he is not; in the same regard, she hardly recognizes him.
HE DID’T KNOW. stuck in his own decaying world, he hadn’t heard. her gaze drops, fixating on the grass at his feet almost mesmerized by the blades’ movements caused by the increasing wind. fingers twist and fidget behind her back, a chill running down her spine. she swallows hard, ignoring the knot forming in her throat. his ignorance sheds light on passing whispers, rumours of a heinous act where she lies the victim. ‘ they ’ say he’s grown cold and callous, heart turned to stone. guilty and naiveté leave her believing otherwise -- they don’t know, but neither does he. with her voice as delicate as a feather dancing across skin, she speaks:
❝ it’s me. i’m... it’s me. ❞
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