✘ kill me
im too tired to find the scar meme / closed.
there’s a weight to his request, whispered with a mixture of hesitation & apprehension. something so simple shouldn’t bear down as it does in the presence of the close calm it has interrupted between them. it’s weights of different kinds, yet so alike. for one, it’s blame —– a need to acknowledge even a sliver of havoc wreaked. the other, it’s the guilt of knowing the strain it will cause & the shift of fault he’s spent so long clinging to.
… can i see it?
he doesn’t answer. instead he stares with eyes refusing to betray how easily he hides the twist in his gut. it’s been long enough —– wounds have long - since been treated & begun to settle into skin, but the thought brings what time has healed to mind. a vivid memory is a curse, reminding him of the pain of being slashed across his chest. frozen, unable to move in the confusion & sorrow, quiet acceptance of the reality he was forced to face.
every move he makes is sluggish, slowly pulling the shirt over his head & concedes to the request. fingers run along the edges of his mask, a visual debate of allowing that last wall to crumble. & he does, it too being drawn over his head as he accepts the vulnerability between them. kakashi shifts in obvious discomfort; the myriad of scars amidst where obito’s fixated stare lies tell a story he's already far too privy to.
beyond the slow recoil of his chest he doesn’t move as a hand reaches to lightly press fingers to the dip in his skin. as the touch traces down the impression he looks away, eyes refusing to betray the blank set of his lips. he allows it for only a few short moments, each second twisting his gut further & further ( this isn’t changing anything, doing little more than creating a drawn out agony for them as they suffer in silence & revel in respective sin ).
years of dwelling have taught him the simple path to walking in circles, creating a vicious cycle he alone has never been able to break. the very real ache caused by what is familiar that shouldn’t be, against his chest, reminds him he isn’t alone anymore. it won’t be so easy to adjust & dig himself from the rut he grew so comfortable in, but the thought on its own gives way to a new path.
❝ what matters, ❞ he begins quietly before obito could let his mind run its course, reading far too deep & mistaking unease with the uncharted for unwillingness to move forward. he inhales deeply & with his hand just as light, he pulls obito’s away by the wrist. he doesn’t pull away, fingers moving to hover against his palm. from the corner of his eye he meets his stare, & a fleeting heavy - hearted look passes, ❝ is that you’re here. ❞
