Rinne-whoops: Who Died and Brought you Back Out?
Continued from here (As the 'Read More' option died)
Kakashi honestly hoped that his touch and words would put the man, Iie, Minato at ease; that it would root him back into the present and return the even intakes of air to his lungs. However, being an 'emotionally-numb' cactus meant that Kakashi couldn’t hope to find the right ways in which to provide comfort whenever it was most needed, no matter that he always had the best of intentions at heart.
He had seen it when he endeavoured to console Rin by telling her Obito’s secret: That he truly loved and cared for her and would be glad that she was the one that was safe; even though those words weren’t what the Kunōichi needed or wanted to hear, as they just made her tears swell and surge faster; her shoulders quaking with the weight of an added burden. He noted it when he attempted to console Itachi, by providing half-hearted advice and a semblance of support without really /knowing/ the gravity of the Uchiha’s situation. It was evident in the way that he so carelessly told Sakura that everything would return to the way that it was, if she would just hold out hope for long enough, sparing her immediate hurt, sure; but sowing the seeds for a deeper, more insalubrious resentment.
It didn’t matter that he wanted to believe all those words spoken just as much as the people he said them to. What mattered was that they were more damaging than the actions he wanted to protect the people, his people, from. In fact the words should never have been uttered at all—So, when those cerulean hues flickered back to his own, dilated with the vast amounts of confusion, dread and anxiety they needed to contain—Kakashi felt the spittle dry on his tongue and turn it to cotton. Because shit, he ended up being careless once again.
The echo of his words were met with the uncertain whisper of his name, like it was a cork tugged off a carafe cradling raw madness; for as soon as the murmur died on the blonde’s lips, his breath hitched before turning into new, uneven gasps. Kakashi paused, his hold on the Kage’s shoulders loosening while he turned to glance back at the hovering Chūnin. Kakashi wasn’t sure what his expression looked like, what it conveyed, but one blink had the Iryō-nin steeling her features afore she pranced forward with professional intent, hands already alight in the mint glow of the Mystical Palm Technique.
A stunted nod met her actions, before Kakashi’s duel-coloured hues flickered back to the juddering form of his mentor, wanting so badly to apologise. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would apologise for. For not being there on the night that the Kyūbi attacked and doing his part as Minato’s supposed “Right-hand Man”? For not playing a bigger part in Naruto’s upbringing or development as a Shinobi? For allowing a sordid terrorist group to turn the Hidden Leaf that the man literally /died/ to protect into a crater of dust and debris? Or was it for having such horrendous bedside manner?
Kakashi knew the Namikaze, knew that he was a man that strived toward fact and the logical. If the Kage’s prior answers were an indication, it would be that he remembered dying, remembered the murky depths of the Shinigami’s stomach that his last Jutsu condemned him to...so /bluntly/ stating the opposite would put the man ill at ease. If what Kakashi assumed happened, happened (because he would not be Kakashi , did he not at least have some sort of working theory) the man’s mindscape had to be a tangled, knotted web. Kami knew Kakashi was very confused when he woke up after his demise and he had only been gone for a few minutes, nothing compared to years, a bloody /decade/. Kakashi shifted, his lips parting to offer an explanation, before the tomoe in his left socket twirled, taking note of the urgent moulding of bright green chakra within the man’s coils, the green faintly tinged with perplexing red.
In an instant the Jōnin pushed away from the lip of the sarcophagi, his fingers curling about the elbow of the Iryō-nin who had her hands resting against the Kage’s ankles with the mind to start on her assessment of his condition. “Everybody down!”
His voice echoed within the ante-chamber, followed by the alarmed shriek of Hakui as Kakashi all but dragged her down to the dusty floor with him. A turn of his head revealed that both Kotetsu and Izumo (true to their shinobi nature and training) had dropped to the ground without further question, just as a sharp gust of wind pulsed from the Kage and through the cavern. A shower of musky, paper bits and linen revealed that the Elemental Chakra didn’t just slice through what remained of Minato’s binding, but managed to splice the top-most shelves of the archives, along with the files and scrolls that they contained. Izumo, realizing this couldn’t help but moan, forehead still pressed firmly against the cool Earth. “Oh man, Shizune-san is going to kill us, kill us!”
Kakashi didn’t pay his distress, or the downpour of shredded history any mind, sitting up to focus on the Kage who was now seated upright within his rock coffin, fingers folded tightly about the edge, whilst he attempted to reign in his chakra. “I’—“ Kakashi faltered as he inched forward, but didn’t rise, didn’t attempt to find the right words as the Kage’s arms rose to tug roughly at his own tuffs and scrape nails against his scalp. It looked painful and the Hatake hated how grossly ad-lib he was for the raw emotion emitting from the blonde in waves. What could he possibly say? What could he do? He didn’t want to risk making matters worse for the Kage...But then there was movement on his left as Hakui rose back to her feet, her young features soft and placating as if approaching a difficult patient.
“Etto...Yondaime-sama…?” The girl inched closer, but when it was clear that Minato wasn’t intent on stopping his self-damaging movements, the Kunōichi’s glowing fingers settled on the insides of his wrists, minty chakra seeping out in a well-controlled burst. The effects seemed to mirror that of the Kanashibari no Jutsu, as the Kage’s arms fell limply to his sides. "... Yondaime-sama... I'll start with your assessment now..." Hakui didn’t waste any more time as she started on the Eisei Shindan or Diagnosis Jutsu; though Kakashi thinks that he did catch her explaining her movements in a low whisper, while her hands hovered down the Kage’s seated form (he couldn’t be sure if it was for the blonde’s benefit or her own).
Kotetsu and Izumo watched the interaction with apprehensive eyes, coming to stand at Kakashi’s side once he settled back onto his feet. “Senpai…How can this be possible?” Kakashi, sighed, calloused digits rubbing at his lids. “Naruto mentioned that he spoke to the Fourth during his battle with Pain; I don’t know the specifics, but I reckon it had something to do with the eight-trigram seal. The fact that he’s here now…in the flesh instead of Naruto’s mindscape…can only mean that Pain’s last Jutsu probably responded to the Yondaime’s chakra imprint, or what was left of it after fixing Naruto’s seal. I can’t be sure…honestly…. I’m not as versed in Fūinjutsu as the Sealing Corps.”
Though Kakashi utterance of his thoughts rang clear the Jōnin had no idea if the former Kage could even hear/comprehend him due to his state. Hakui whom finally finished with her initial examination turned around with a furrowed brow. “I don’t note any depressed brainstem reflexes, deterioration or damage to any of Yondaime-sama’s internal tissue. Yes, his breathing is irregular, he shows no response to pain stimuli—but other than his enflamed chakra pathways, there’s no physical tells that he…that sixteen years have passed since his deat--uhm...the Demon-Fox Attack….his symptoms seem to be due to psychological stress.”
Kakashi's teeth worked on the flesh of his cheek, gaze cutting back in the direction of the slumped shinobi. “So, I can move him, Hakui-san?” With a curt nod as his answer, Kakashi then shifted, gloved palm rubbing at the nape of his neck. “In that case, I think it’s time we go see an old friend, Sensei.”
