I actually wrote a sequel. This is my first technical 'series' since my Artemis Fowl stuff- TWO YEARS AGO. Woah. And I'm even thinking about a third part when Team Minato goes to fight an actual demon. And maybe a fourth part after that when Kakashi heads back to Hazumi to confront his demons (seriously, no pun intended). Double woah. Triple woah. ...Anyway.

Not sure how good it is. Anything that is not angst is not my forte, but, well, 12,000 words of pure angst would really be terrible. I'm also not that good at relationship progressy type fics, which... this is... AND we've been giving nothing to go off of when writing Rin's character. I'm not trying to make excuses at all but this fic is a lot of new territory that I'm not used to.

Little warning- ends in tragedy and character death. Because, well, it's KakaRin. Sorry... Also, not technically a KakaRin PAIRING like I promised, because, still, the one thing I am the absolute worst at writing is the transition from friendship to something more. Seriously. Just read Fate. They're just close friends in here, sadly.

Haha, well, on that note- enjoy!

"I'm ordering that Kakashi be placed where we originally intended: alongside Uchiha Obito and Nohara Rin, under your supervision."

Minato stared in surprise.

When the moment passed and Sarutobi continued to watch him carefully, as if simply waiting for his response, Minato reached up to tug at his headband uncertainly and shifted his weight. "Hokage-sama, I must... respectfully disagree. Why? I do agree that he needs to be watched for a little longer, but- a genin team is hardly the place for it."

Sarutobi nodded slowly. "Yes... because he is too skilled? Or-?"

"Because a genin team needs hand holding and someone ready to come in if they get over their heads in a fight. That's not what Kakashi needs at all!" Minato exclaimed. Not to mention Kakashi would be stubborn beyond belief if he found out he was having to work next to two genins. He'd been furious two and a half years ago when he found out that was the plan- now, after everything he'd been through? This was simply not the time.

"I agree, that's not what he needs. However, it can become something entirely different for Kakashi. If I recall, you were the one that came to me asking for a genin team two years ago, based on concerns that he was not connecting well with anyone other than you and that he had to develop relationships in order to be a more successful candidate for jounin. After all, jounin serve as team leaders- they have to know who they're responsible for."

Minato shifted uneasily. Sarutobi was right, after all, but... "The circumstances were different," he insisted. "Now I believe it would be detrimental-"

"On the contrary, Minato- I believe, now, it is even more crucial that he be forced to develop relationships. Based off your reports- he's isolating himself, is having trouble in the field, and whenever the two of you are assigned a joint mission with another team, Kakashi responds like that, in and of itself, is stress. That could, very easily, become a serious problem. Placing him on a genin team will also prevent him from overtraining for the jounin exam, which would just isolate him further, no?"

"...Yes," Minato admitted grudgingly. He knew Kakashi well enough that the chuunin would take any chance he got to get away from the genin- and, well, everyone else. But, still... there had to be a better way...

"Also," Sarutobi added on, "you said that, despite him missing two years of missions and supervised training, Kakashi's skills have increased without bounds, isn't that right?"

Minato nodded again. It was a surprising turn of events. But for what Kakashi had missed in terms of techniques and advanced Chakra control, he had gained so much more in instincts, taijutsu, pure survival techniques. The fact that he had taught himself lightning techniques, how to walk on water- it had done wonders for his Chakra control. A teacher could preach the principles of something all day long to a student, but the fact that Kakashi had managed to discover and learn the things without any outside help whatsoever, no matter how basic the techniques he had learned were- there were ANBU who didn't have Chakra control as refined as he did.

Kakashi was undoubtedly jounin level now.

But, the problem was, if Kakashi was promoted to jounin, they would have very few ways to supervise him- something Minato was still convinced he needed. He would often be put as team leader, and shinobi generally were proud- and would not take well to being led by something less than half their size. And leading over the chuunin and genin his age was also a terrible idea. Have a kid appear out of nowhere, the same age as them- but be put in charge of them? Not to mention Kakashi didn't exactly have the personality that commanded respect...

Which was most likely what Sarutobi was getting at.

"So, put a hold on the jounin exam. You can do that, Hokage-sama."

But Sarutobi shook his head unhappily. "That won't last, Minato. I can't hold a shinobi back simply because I'm not comfortable with promoting him. If push came to shove, the council could- and would- vote to overrule me. If Kakashi petitions to take the jounin exam, I will have to let him." Sighing deeply, Sarutobi looked down at his desk and stared at the file laid out before him, serious and troubled. "There is, of course, the matter of the psychological trauma you've reported from the seal. I absolutely cannot allow Kakashi on any solo missions until this matter is resolved- and I would prefer that all missions he does take are with you."

Minato frowned. This, he could agree with, without a doubt. Because, reversing a seal that had held back eight years worth of memories, as it had turned out, was not that simple.

At least once on every mission they'd been on these past four weeks, Kakashi had become lost, confused; unsure of who or when he was. Sometimes he'd think his name was Maru, and he progress from a shinobi of Konoha to the demon of Hazumi in the blink of an eye. More than once, if the demon of Hazumi really wasn't so deadly, the fights they'd gotten entangled in could've turned from skirmishes into something truly dangerous.

Other times, less terrifying but no less disturbing, Kakashi would confess to be unable to remember huge spans of his past. He'd be able to fight but didn't recognize Gai, or couldn't remember that Sakumo was dead- once, when they'd walked home together, Kakashi had been shocked to find Kushina waiting for them both, having apparently no recollection of the wedding.

Many times, Minato had had to talk Kakashi down from running, leaving camp and just bolting into the wilderness, when he woke up from a nightmare of Hazumi and couldn't remember who he was.

Solo missions would just be asking for a disaster. Kakashi needed the supervision, whether he wanted it or not.

"You tell your student this, Minato," Sarutobi said, and his voice left no room for argument. "If he wants off probation, then he needs to make some friends. The psychological trauma is acceptable, so long as he works at it and manages it. The isolation is not. ...Of course, I've also heard that friendships are a wonderful way to heal."

He smiled, then, and winked- and Minato sighed in defeat.

Just how was he supposed to explain this to Kakashi?

"I get it- it's a jutsu, right? You're using sound to cast a justu?"

For the fifth time in just as many minutes, Rin gave a disappointed sigh, shook her head, and situated the violin more firmly between her shoulder and her chin. Every time he answered wrong, she looked a little more disappointed, and Kakashi was finding himself more and more at a loss.

He watched uncertainly as she continued to play, thin, nimble fingers ghosting over the strings and lightly pulling the bow down and up and down again across the dark instrument. What could it be for? Rin had just said it wasn't a jutsu, and he couldn't see any way this could be considered good training. What was the point?

Damn it, Sensei. You told me to get close to your team to get rid of the watchdogs. Well, Obito's simply a nutjob, and Rin's not turning out much better.

Rin closed her eyes, relaxing a bit more, the bow falling and rising as if by gravity, slender form swaying back and forth with gentle, sloping phrase. Kakashi stayed silent for a moment, just watching.

At last, he suggested half-heartedly, "Undercover work? It's practice for an undercover assignment?"

This last question was enough to bring Rin's playing to a halt; she twitched, bow freezing in mid arc and ending the sound with an unpleasant kind of screech, and her previously calm expression turned bitter. "No, Kakashi, no," she murmured with a sad, resigned kind of chuckle, and she lowered the violin off her shoulder. "No to all of the above. I'm playing it because I like it."

He cocked his head to the side curiously. Because she... likes it? That's it?

That seemed like a rather shallow, selfish reason. Where was the room in a shinobi's life to do something just because it was enjoyable? If a shinobi had the free time to pick up an instrument, then he should spend that free time training.

Then, Kakashi frowned. Rin hadn't graduated as young as he had. Maybe, she'd learned violin before graduating, and kept playing it now because it was good practice- could be helpful on an undercover mission, or good training for discipline, or...?

When he voiced this suggestion, Rin looked even more disappointed.

"Still no! Well- I did play before I graduated the Academy, but it has nothing to do with missions, or being a shinobi, even! It's exactly what I told you. I play it because I like it. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Sighing, Kakashi crossed his legs and relaxed his posture, leaning back against the wall beside her. He took a moment to breathe patiently, trying to reign in the thoughts telling him that it was just a waste of time, and he should be out training. This was for his promotion to jounin. He could tolerate this nonsense for a little while longer.

"It's just- weird." He looked down at the violin rather than his teammate, eying it strangely. "I'm sure it took a lot of work to get that good. I never had that much free time, even in in the Academy."

Rin let out a startled laugh. "What?" she asked, surprised. Her brown eyes widened and she started to grin. "You were five when you graduated, right? What were you doing when you were five?"

"Uh... training."

Rin laughed again, her smile brightening. "No, seriously, Kakashi."

Kakashi looked back at her flatly, unsure of what she was finding so funny. "I'm serious. I was training."

Rin's smile started to dim, and her eyes lost their previous mirth. "You were five, Kakashi," she said softly. "You couldn't have trained that much; you were just a little kid."

"Age doesn't restrict skill," he retorted. "I made chuunin the next year. I had good teachers, I worked hard, I got better." A moment passed in silence, and, sighing, Kakashi looked away from the medic again, idly scratching at the dirt under one of his fingernails. Keep on talking. Minato-sensei said I had to do this... And, when I was still just Maru, Rin did try very hard to help...

"...I can't remember everything. There's still a lot of- blank spots," he confessed quietly. "I can't say for sure what I did or didn't do, but... well, I know whenever I wasn't in school, I was training. At first it was more compulsory than voluntary; they called me a prodigy, but what they really meant was that I was just better at Chakra control and jutsu than other kids my age but didn't yet understand the consequences of what I could do. But after I got good enough to control myself, well... I just kept training. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Find a hobby," she said, shaking her head at him admonishingly. "You know. Do something that isn't work. Something you like?"

Kakashi answered bluntly, "I like training." And, he did. It was monotonous, redundant; dulled his thoughts, made his mind blank- far more acceptable than the restless unease of his thoughts of late, the way they chased each other in senseless circles and wrapped up his mind in things he would rather not contemplate.

And, it made him stronger. The stronger of a shinobi he was, the more worth as a person he had.

Something Rin plainly disagreed with him with.

"You can't just like training. It can be fun, yeah, but..." She shrugged. "Being a shinobi isn't everything."

Kakashi glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and remained silent. Something told him that responding that, to him, it was everything, and that he didn't understand how it couldn't be for her, wouldn't help further this conversation.

"You know, you need a hobby," Rin said abruptly. Grabbing her violin by the neck, she stood and held out an expectant hand to him, firm but grinning. "Come on. I have an idea."

"How can you play this, too. Where on earth did you find the time to learn two-"

"I actually know three," Rin interrupted, then forcefully put his hands back down on the keys. "Now, stop complaining! I know it'll be difficult for you to not be perfect at something for once, but, hey, it'll build character. Be good for you."

Glaring at her out of the corner of his eye, Kakashi sighed, allowing her to continue poking and prodding at his fingers and wrists until they were in the exact perfect position. This is all for your promotion, he told himself again, all for your promotion.

The knowledge that Rin could play two- nope, now three- instruments had, rather than impressed him, made him convinced the medic had an obsession instead of just a hobby. He watched her with an almost outright suspicion as she dropped a sheet of simple looking music on the stand and sat next to him, placing her hands on the keys as well.

"I- well, hah... I'm not that great of a teacher. But I hear you're good at teaching yourself. So, that's good!" She chuckled again, then pointed at the music. "I'm only playing this line, the right hand. And I'll go slowly. The note it starts on, here, that's an A; with each line it goes up, that's one white key. The A is here." She played a note on the piano, then paused and looked at him nervously. "Sorry. If I need to go slower, just tell me. I- uh... I'm a really bad teacher."

Kakashi just shook his head. He was still doubting the validity of this whole venture, but, he figured he could give up one afternoon. They had a mission the next day, so it was important he not overtrain now, he reasoned; it wasn't really a huge waste. And it was worth it if it got Sarutobi to let him off this team and take the jounin exam.

Rin wasn't as bad of a teacher as she called herself; she was quite patient, if unyielding. She just didn't seem to know how explain things that, it seemed, came natural to her. But it wasn't hard for him to pick it up himself. Piano was quite logical, straightforward; the patterns were short, basic, and easy to recognize, and his fingers were strong and used to forming and shaping complicated seals. Simple notes on a keyboard were easy enough to manage.

No matter how long the lesson continued on, no matter how quickly he grasped the basic concepts and moved onto harder ones, he never grasped why Rin enjoyed it so much.

What was it about this that relaxed her? What was it about this that made her look like she had earlier, when she was playing violin for him- eyes closed and mouth upturned in a smile, content and at peace? What was it about this that was so fun that she could spend just hours- playing?

He didn't understand.

A long, yet, surprisingly, not tedious, half hour later, in the middle of a short break Rin had insisted on (and he had to admit, his wrists were getting sore...), Kakashi sat back on the floor, watching as the medic played on the piano herself. They were slow, simple little melodies, lilting and calm, and while he still couldn't see the point, he did appreciate, now, her skill. His short tenure on the instrument had taught him that it was far harder than it looked, and he couldn't imagine the hours of work Rin had poured into 'hobby'.

Speaking of which...

"Three instruments?" he asked curiously, rubbing his wrists. "Okay, I'd buy the violin being a hobby. But three different instruments? There has to be a story behind it."

Rin continued playing for a moment, her back to him. Her head was down, long cascades of brown hair hiding all of her face from view, so he couldn't see her response to the question- but, nevertheless, the pause before she gave a light, joking answer told him there was more to this than she was telling.

"Nope, no story." She stopped playing, and Kakashi was surprised at how he regretted the lack of music the moment it went silent. "I just like music."

Kakashi frowned. He glanced around the small room, then back at Rin uncertainly. "And how are we here? I thought the practice rooms were reserved for university students only."

"For someone who doesn't know the first thing about piano, you seem to know a lot the university."

A deflection- yet another sign that she wasn't telling the truth.

Kakashi's frown deepened.

"Yeah. I did a few missions for the dean when I was a genin."

Rin glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled again, but it seemed brittle. "Well, a professor here was my piano instructor. Before I graduated from the Academy, I mean. He said I could use the rooms whenever I wanted, since a piano was too expensive to buy. Had a soft spot for me, I guess."

Kakashi stayed silent for another few moments, then, sighing, decided to let the subject drop. Whether the story about her old instructor was truth or no, she didn't want to talk about this, that was plain.

"...Why'd you stop playing?" he asked at last- an out if she wanted it, a way out of a conversation she clearly did not want to have.

The medic blinked, and then her smile was back, this time, genuine. "Sorry," she said, turning back to the piano. "I can't play and talk at the same time. I get too distracted." And, with that, she returned her attention to the keys beneath her hands, and the sweet melodies and soft, soaring rhythms she could create.

And Kakashi closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and listened.

With a jolt, he realized this whole time, his thoughts hadn't once strayed to his father's life, his father's death, or the disaster that was Hazumi- and he realized that that was probably why Rin liked it so much.

No matter what memories from the past she was hiding from, it seemed that music provided a way for her to forget.

Kakashi let himself get lost in the sounds her hands could create, and decided that, maybe, a hobby wasn't so bad after all.

It was weeks before he got to know the third instrument Rin knew so well, and the circumstances weren't good.

Mission: failed.

Casualties: four.

Or, the entire genin team that had been assigned the mission alongside them.

Team Minato had escaped through simple, dumb, luck. Their enemies had simply targeted the other team first; that was it. War was war, and an ANBU squad pitted against a three genin and one young jounin was what passed for bad luck, not a massacre, and Minato had been smart enough to withdraw. Oh, the Yellow Flash probably could've taken them- but not with three liabilities to protect.

Kakashi's fists clenched.

Liabilities.

He had been a liability.

That was how the rising moon saw him on the training grounds, hot lightning twisting around his bloody hands, hours of relentless work wearing his knuckles raw. Because, to be a liability was not something he could allow for himself. His worth was simply in how strong he was as a shinobi- he had no family, no clan; even his clan name was mud. If he couldn't protect this village- what was his life even for? If he couldn't protect this village, what was the reason Minato had found him in Hazumi, that one in a million chance Konoha would take that mission, and the one person who knew him would be the one to go?

There had to be a reason.

There has to be a reason I'm still alive.

That was why the moon rose on him training.

Minato had wearily sent them all home, ordering them in a heavy, exhausted, sorrowful voice to rest. He knew Obito wouldn't have gone home; the young Uchiha, always so enraged at injustice and unfair death- he was probably out screaming somewhere, punching the ground, blowing up a tree or two. He would've bet Rin was at the hospital, picking up extra shifts, trying to help people there in exchange for those who had died in their place.

If Minato had gone home, it was only after paying his respects to each and every family that wouldn't see their son, their sister, their father, their loved one, come home.

And Kakashi was here. Training.

When the slow, haunting sounds reached his ears, hollow and low, shaking and powerful, somehow, Kakashi had no doubt about who was responsible.

Panting, fist hot and glowing, Kakashi paused, kneeling over the cracked hole in the earth, split with light. He looked after the music, frozen over his revenge on the dirt but his eyes searching for the source of the disturbance, post mission nerves drawn tight with tension, whether it was friend or foe who had surprised him here. Danger, his instincts said, danger, because someone had snuck up on him here...

His gaze flickered from the darkened grounds to up high in the trees, and there sat Rin.

Her legs dangled into the air, long, tangled strands of hair a dark mess on her back, twisted together through knots made of dirt and blood. The black splotches on her usual white uniform said she hadn't even bothered to change after the terrible mission, whatever ritual this was for her taking precedence even other basic creature comforts.

Rin, a dark shadow that was shielded by windswept leaves, a cocoon of dark branches and nature, would've been invisible to less trained eyes. But the slim instrument in her hands shone in the moonlight, silver light reflecting off silver metal to create a bright, beautiful sparkle in the darkness. In contrast to the one who held it, the flute was day against night; life against the ghost that, even now, breathed into it, and gave it sound.

Kakashi stood silently and listened.

Low and long, short and high, dissonant melodies melding into harmonious ones with ease. It sounded more as if the flute had a mind of its own than Rin was guiding its music, tenuous strands of sorrow and sadness snaking their way through the haunting echo, giving pure, simple feeling to something as simple as notes pieced together in a way that created music rather than just noise.

After a pause, Kakashi turned and went back to his decompression method, and let Rin continue with hers.

For the first time, he thought of Rin as something other than a stepping stone to his exam, and wondered if she could be a good friend.

Friend.

The word was foreign to him.

For some reason, Kakashi remained unwilling to accept that Rin's unexplained musical talent was just a hobby.

Rin had never brought up that night to him, that cold, terrible, unplanned meeting, and so he didn't bring it up to her, but it remained niggling at the back of his mind. She'd told him she played three instruments, but Kakashi hadn't really believed she could be proficient at three instruments. The amount of time that would have to be poured into it- no way would a shinobi, even a genin, have that kind of spare time.

So, he started following her.

And, it was... illuminating.

Kakashi followed her from her tiny apartment, the most a genin could afford, outside and through the myriad of streets to training. He followed her after training down to the hospital and crouched in a tree, spying on her hour long class on medical ninjutsu, then crept around the hospital itself, watching her eat dinner in the cafeteria before moving around the facility to do her work as a medic-in-training.

It was nearly eight at night by the time Rin left the hospital, and he expected to follow her straight home- it was certainly late enough. Kakashi found himself being surprised when she turned down the path to the university.

He lurked outside, here. It would be impossible to hide outside the practice rooms without using some kind of genjutsu, and Rin's Chakra control was advanced. There was no guarantee that she wouldn't be able to notice the genjutsu and break it, and he didn't want to explain that away.

Rin stayed inside the university for over two hours, hiding away in the building while Kakashi stayed outside in the dark and cold, watching alternately as the moon drifted in and out behind clouds and that damn door, waiting impatiently for the medic to leave. By the time she did, it was past ten, almost eleven, even, and Kakashi was entirely unsurprised to see her now slipping a flute case back into shoulder bag.

Impressive. She'd managed to fit in a good two and a half hours of practice into a schedule that was already jam packed.

Kakashi followed Rin for four more days, and each day, her schedule was exactly the same. The only variant was when she stopped back by her apartment on days two and three to grab her violin.

Balancing shinobi training, medic training, and music training took real commitment. Music was more than a fun hobby for her- if it was, there was no way Rin would've kept it up throughout her demanding schedule. Kakashi would grudgingly admit he went a little overkill on how hard he trained, and working from seven in the morning to eight a night with hardly a break in between- that was good enough to impress him. Especially since half of that consisted of medical ninjutsu; that was especially exhausting.

Why did Rin insist on continuing to work on music? What was in it for her?

Clearly, it's very important to her... there is no way this is simply a fun hobby.

Kakashi would've followed her on the weekend, too, and see what she did on her day off.

Then Minato intervened by teleporting right in his face outside the university.

Kakashi coughed and flinched and jumped, jerking away from his beaming teacher and reaching for a kunai, lightning sparking on his fingertips before he'd recovered himself- barely stopping himself from slashing at Minato's smiling face, which was barely three inches away.

"Wha- What the hell?!" he gasped, scrambling back a few steps. "Minato-sensei! What are you doing?"

Minato continued to smile brightly, crouching in front of him and just grinning as if he was endlessly proud, probably of himself. "Following you," he said, and his voice was brighter than his smile. "Now, now... does Kakashi-kun have a crush?"

"I- what?!"

Minato laughed and took a few steps back, allowing him his own space, but still looking down at him wisely and grinning. "Teenage shinobi dating- truly a nightmare." He winked. "Stalking is often involved."

Kakashi stared up at him, utterly stunned.

"Jiraiya-sensei, naturally, is thrilled. He thinks it's wonderful, and is now trying to foist more Icha Icha on me to give to you. Kushina, is, uh... a bit upset... thinks that I need to bring you over so she can teach you how to respect women." He chuckled uneasily. "I decided I would be a middle ground. Stalking is bad, Kakashi, no matter what Jiraiya-sensei might tell you, but it is not so morally terrible that you deserved to be smacked into the next century, which I'm sure Kushina was planning on. You should just try talking to Rin. Trust me- it works wonders."

"Y-you... you think I'm... what?!"

Minato frowned. "You've been following Rin for five days- maybe more. Come on, Kakashi- don't tell me that wasn't because you were- interested, in her? What other reason is there to follow someone?"

Kakashi's eyes widened. Did Minato-sensei seriously think I wanted to- wanted to- oh, my god.

What utter nonsense, Sensei.

Seriously. Utter nonsense.

Unsure of whether he should be laughing or horrified, Kakashi haltingly explained his real motives- cautiously phrasing it in terms of a shinobi's suspicion and a mission-like curiosity, steering away from anything that could even be taken as personal- because heaven knows what on earth Minato would take from that.

"I just didn't understand. That's it," he ended it with. "And I wanted to figure out why. That's all this was, Sensei." Then, as an afterthought, he angrily tacked on, "And this is all your fault in the first place- I'm doing this because you told me I had to get to know these two in order to get taken off probation! It's not like I wanted to do this!"

But Minato was still smiling, if not as brightly as before. He chuckled quietly, shaking his head, and rubbed a hand over his face as if exasperated. "Oh, Kakashi. First thing's still first- talking is better than stalking someone for a week. Just a suggestion. But, also- if Rin's hobby bothered you enough for you to actually follow her for a week- maybe you really are looking for something more than friendship. Or at least friendship, and not simply a means to an end."

And, sputtering, Kakashi found himself watching as his eccentric teacher vanished away in a swirl of leaves.

It was a full minute before he had recovered himself enough to shake his head, turn, and begin walking away.

"Hard to want something more than friendship, when I'm still trying to just figure out friendship, Sensei," he muttered under his breath.

The second time he came across Rin playing that mysterious, reserved for catastrophe only instrument, the circumstances seemed just as bad as the first. Except, this time, the devastating affect was reserved just for her.

Again, it was in the training grounds. That same tree, even. Again, it was late at night. Though, this time, there was no bad mission beforehand, no trauma of any kind that Kakashi knew of- just a normal day of training, and then, more training for him- with his jounin exam hopefully coming up sooner rather than later, he needed more practice than ever. He'd assumed the rest of his team had gone home.

Apparently, he'd been wrong.

Curiosity demanding indeed, Kakashi leaped from the ground to Rin's high perch with one single jump, landing lightly and silently on a branch a few feet above hers. The medic obviously knew he was here, he didn't train quietly- and yet, she still choose to play here.

He took that as invitation to inquire why.

Rin didn't pause when he joined her on the branch. Her breaths hitched a little, and he heard it in the sound, but her fingers kept on moving and she kept on playing, her deep, enigmatic eyes hazy and distant. And Kakashi waited.

Finally, when she ran out of air, Rin's eyes darted up to meet his, and she stopped mid phrase, the dark music coming to a halt without resolution. She just sat there and- watched him, for a moment, gaze unreadable, posture somehow both relaxed but taut with some sort of undefinable tension. When Kakashi held her gaze, she looked away and lowered her flute, bringing it close to her side and nestling it in the crook of her neck, her arm around it like it was some sort of security blanket, the way a civilian might hang onto a stuffed doll.

Without preamble, she began.

"This was my father's."

The wind howled, the leaves rustled, and the moon rose a little higher in the sky.

"...The violin, that was my mother's. They were both musicians, you see. Civilians. I think it was their great dream that I would be one, too. Of course, I thought being a ninja would be much cooler. I couldn't wait until I was old enough for the Academy." She laughed, but it was bitter.

"They tried to get me interested in piano. I hated it, thought it was way too much work- I kept going after Tou-san's flute. Found all his old books, tried to teach myself, failed miserably... my parents found out and Tou-san laughed, he said he got the point, I could drop piano and he would teach me flute."

There was no happy ending to this story, Kakashi knew. What shinobi's story had a happy ending?

"...Three weeks after that, they were killed in a fire at the university. I was six."

She held the flute a little tighter and sighed distantly, long and tired- so very, very tired. She rubbed the slim instrument with her thumb slowly, as if drawing comfort from it, before settling it more firmly in the crook of her neck. "I got Kaa-san's violin, Tou-san's flute, and a suite at Konoha Orphanage." She laughed bitterly. "The professor felt sorry for me, I guess. Even though I never practiced piano for him before he let me be his student again, free of charge; even offered to help me learn violin, too. I- I was still too young for the Academy and- ...music was all I knew. It was the only connection I still had to them."

Rin rubbed the flute again gently, just a little, then closed her eyes and shuddered. "Now, I play this one whenever I'm upset. I can forget myself with him- it. Flute's the most natural to me so whenever I'm just- sad, I get it out and just focus on it and let it make me forget everything. For at least a little while. I'm not so good at violin; I'm normally only ever in the mood to practice it when I'm happy or excited. I feel like it takes so much more effort than flute, but, well... I sound terrible regardless..." Flushing, Rin looked away in embarrassment and held the flute a little closer.

"Piano takes the most concentration. You know, two hands." She held up both her hands as if in explanation, then sighed. "I always feel like playing it when I'm bored. Or relaxed. Or something." She shrugged awkwardly and continued to look away, running a protective hand up and down her flute and appearing engrossed in the slim silver instrument- anything rather than looking at him.

"So... you play all these instruments because it's the only thing you still have that connects you to your parents?" Kakashi asked, reached uneasily up to finger the tanto strapped to his back, then winced, mentally slapping himself. Now was not the moment, no matter how indirect it was, for a I knew I was right about you not playing these just for fun! comment.

Rin let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. "No. No, I don't. Sometimes, yeah, that's why I play, but I primarily do it because I like it. I know you seem to have trouble grasping the idea of anything outside of training and missions, but it really is that simple, Kakashi- I like it. I- ...god, I'm sorry." She rubbed a hand over her face and leaned against the tree trunk, pulling a knee up to her chest. "Sorry for snapping at you. I'm just- tired. And today was horrible, and I already was- well. Sorry."

Kakashi shook his head in response, pulling his legs up as well and sitting crossed legged across from her. "It's fine," he murmured, watching as the medic slowly relaxed again, returning her focus to her flute rather than apologizing.

The moon rose a little bit higher, and when Rin stayed silent, Kakashi simply leaned back against his tree and closed his eyes, slumping down to a more relaxed position. He was still new to this friend thing, but figured sitting with her now, being a companion when he knew just how alone she could feel now, shrouded in memories of an uncertain past, was a start.

Weeks turned into months, and, somehow, the piano lessons that had began so long ago continued.

Late at night, during Rin's stops at the university after her work at the hospital. Half an hour morphed into an hour, then, sometimes two, and a lesson would turn into Rin taking his place at the keyboard- the medic, only too eager to play, and Kakashi, only too willing to listen to her near perfected pieces over his stumbling ones, riddled with flaws. Because his thoughts were still all too easily dominated by what Sakumo had done, both to the village and to him- and to himself- and what he could and couldn't remember. The blur between Kakashi and Maru could get so strong it became a terrible fog, and he couldn't tell right from down, up from left- demon from shinobi.

And Maru loved Rin's playing even more than he did.

Whenever the line between them blurred, and he wasn't sure who he was anymore, and he felt jumpy, scared...

Rin could calm him down.

It was ironic, he supposed, that the reason Rin played flute had become the reason he loved to listen to it.

"Professor? Professor, what do you think?!"

"Hmm..." The elderly man pretended to think, tapping his chin and looking down at Kakashi judgmentally while Rin waited in suspense. "Well, from what I understand, this kid's a prodigy- as good as adults at what he does. So I have to judge him on a standard of what I do the students here- and, I have to say, you wouldn't pass the audition."

"Professooooor..."

His face splitting into a into a wide grin, the professor's facade slipped away, and he beamed. "But for six months experience, I'm very impressed. I'd bet if he wanted to pass the audition, he could. Teach him some scales, a contrasting piece that's a bit harder..." He trailed off and shrugged, then turned to Rin hopefully. "And you know you've always got a standing offer, every semester-"

"Professor!"

The man sighed good naturedly . raising his hands in surrender. "Ah, can't blame a man for trying."

Rin gave a happy little squeal, excited and proud, clapping her hands together before turning to Kakashi, clearly thrilled. "We did it, Kakashi! We did it! Yes! Ooh, and a student succeeding is a teacher's best praise!"

"Rin, he's hardly succeeded yet. Now, maybe, if he auditioned in a couple months, and we let him in..."

Rin rolled her eyes, exasperated, but still grinning. "Sorry, Professor. Kakashi's more of a shinobi than I am. The only way you'll get an audition out of him is its for a mission."

Crestfallen, the professor shook his head, turning for the door. "Agh, you shinobi. Always pulling this nonsense. Getting my hopes up, then letting them down."

Kakashi shrugged self-consciously, scratching the side of his neck before letting his hands down to the keyboard. He wasn't sure why the professor seemed so impressed. He could see how a civilian could have some trouble with it, both hands doing something different at the same time, but for a shinobi, the dexterity was nothing special. Even the harder passages Rin had showed him that stretched his fingers to the limit and the massive chords that required true feats of flexibility to reach were topped by some of the more complex, unique seals he had learned and had to be able to use on the fly. Add in footwork with the pedal and, all right, he had to concentrate hard, but it wasn't impossible.

Coupled with the fact that, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't draw the level of contentment- or, any contentment at all- from playing piano, like Rin did- Kakashi simply couldn't see the point. Just because of his skills as a shinobi didn't mean it had taken no work at all; he'd practiced often, sneaking into the university whenever he couldn't sleep- which had turned into horribly often. He woke at least once a night now, and so many of those times, it was all because of Maru; who he had once been, who he still sometimes thought he was.

And, he would grudgingly admit that piano would help. Nightmares that had once left him unable to sleep for the rest of the night now relaxed their hold on him an hour or two before sunrise; pouring every ounce of concentration, of focus, he had into the rows of black and white keys laid before him. It distracted him until Maru had stopped screaming.

There was a difference, though, between distracting him, and giving him a reason to smile.

He left the practice rooms tired every time, wrists and fingers sore, eyes sleepy after trying to decipher the black mazes that constituted music drawn out on the sheet music Rin gave him. Whenever Rin put down her violin, her flute, her piano, she seemed almost more alive; music revitalized her in a way he could never understand.

That was okay, he figured. Listening to Rin play calmed Maru more than anything he ever did, and, just sometimes, it made him smile.

"Why do you sound better than I do?"

It was a blunt question, put without explanation or preamble. Kakashi sat and watched as Rin uncomprehendingly sucked on a dango stick, unsure but relaxed. When she didn't even reply, just waited for him to clarify, Kakashi sighed frustratingly and tried to figure out how to put his thoughts into words.

"I know you have more experience than me; that's not what I'm talking about. The pieces I can play, though- I play them just like you show me. Sometimes it's even identical." He shrugged helplessly and quickly shoved his own dango stick underneath his mask, sucking one of the sweet rice balls off before dropping the skewer back onto his plate. "But it never sounds as good as yours. What are we doing different?"

Rin paused. Her long fingers hesitated over her dang stick and she stared at it for a moment, running her thumb up and down the sticky surface. "You finally realized, huh?" she murmured, but more to herself than Kakashi. She fiddled with her food for a moment, then let out a long sigh- and Kakashi watched in uncertain confusion.

"Well, to be honest, I saw it coming," she said unhappily. "You went about learning piano like it was a jutsu, Kakashi- but, that's the thing, it's not. It's not a physics problem, or something you can get good at it just by learning the patterns of the intervals, or chord structure, or-" She let out another frustrated sigh. "You have to approach it differently. You know- if you're playing a sad song... make it sad."

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "What- make it minor?" he guessed, confused, blinking in surprise when the medic let out a heavy groan and shook her head unhappily.

"No, no... well, yeah, but- no, Kakashi. You..." Rin frowned, seeming exasperated, but at her own inability to explain, not at him. "I guess- it's like what my parents said. How can you make your listeners feel emotion if you're not feeling anything yourself? Music, it- it breathes, it feels, it's alive." Rin flushed pink and her voice, which had gotten progressively smaller, now trailed off into nothing. She looked away as if embarrassed and quickly stuck another dango skewer into her mouth. "Every time I've seen you practice, it's- emotionless. That's why, Kakashi. I can play better than you because I don't treat music like it's work, or an assignment, or, a mission- it's not even only because of my parents. I honestly like it. It relaxes me because I can get my anger out in it the same way Obito blows up stuff, or you lightning the hell out of the training grounds. It can stop me from being sad because I just let my sadness- guide my fingers, tell me what to play, I just... pour it into what I'm doing until it runs out." Rin flushed again nervously, and Kakashi's eyes widened.

Rin probably hadn't ever tried to explain this to anybody before, he realized. That was why she appeared so anxious. She was diverging something as deeply personal to her as Sakumo's suicide was to him.

The surprising display of trust, of friendship, was touching, and Kakashi swallowed, moved. As much as he couldn't understand what Rin was saying, her manner now, the way it was clearly so important to her- it at least made sense.

"I don't know if you and Obito will ever get how important it is for me, what it does for me," Rin said at last, leaning back and staring blankly at the ceiling of the restaurant, unseeingly. "You, especially. You don't really... feel, a lot, do you? You look at life as just missions and training."

Kakashi shifted uneasily. Rin wasn't looking at him but he felt the scrutiny all the same, and he looked away. Her words were said without weight, a simple statement of fact, he knew, and, just a few months ago, he would've agreed with her- had trouble understanding how any shinobi could not agree with it.

Now?

He had trouble remembering the last day he had done nothing but train.

There were lessons at the university. And then, that had so quickly morphed into dinner before with the whole team or dinner after with just her. Kushina's constant invitations for lunch had become less of an annoyance and more something he could at least tolerate, if not even enjoy. Gai's perpetual challenges- all right, still, a hassle- were at least bearable.

Training, his abilities as a shinobi, missions, rank- it was all still important to him. Very important.

But, somehow along the way, it had been downgraded from everything to just- almost everything.

"Or- not?"

Blinking, Kakashi looked back at Rin, who had transferred her gaze to him questioningly when he hadn't answered. Slowly, he shook his head, pulling his mask up a little higher- unable to help it under her close examination. "No. Not anymore. At least," he hastened to add, "not as much. It's not all I do anymore. ...Thanks. For that."

Rin stared at him in momentary surprise, and then, her cheeks flushed even pinker. She looked like she was unable to help a smile, and Kakashi shifted uncomfortably before smiling back, crinkling his eyes into two sharp crescents as he reached out for another dango stick.

He wasn't used to letting himself feel this much. Rin was right; he was too used to living each day in almost a haze, waking, eating, breathing, all for the purpose of getting stronger and fighting for Konoha. There wasn't much room for emotions in all of that. He was too accustomed to squashing down all emotions that conflicted with his work- or, to be basic, just all emotion- and anything that refused to be squashed down, turning it into fuel for battle. His long tenure in Hazumi had not been much different. In the beginning there'd just been a lot of uncertainty, confusion, but it hadn't taken long before he'd been overrun by terror and rage. Terror was fuel for flight, and rage was fuel for fight. That was it.

There'd been no reason for any other kind of emotion.

Now Kakashi was finally experiencing some emotions he didn't want to squash- and he liked how it felt.

It was the aftermath of a bloody massacre that sparked Maru from dormant to alive and well once again.

In retrospect, he should've known that Rin's influence hadn't killed Maru and set him free- it had just sent him into hiding.

The wind howled, the rain fell in sheets, and the black, brewing clouds blew with every gust to cover the moon and the stars. Lightning, ever familiar, ever comforting, cracked bright and brilliant in the overcast skies, and with it roiled a boom of thunder a mere second later.

He crouched in the downpour.

The freezing water poured out across the village, turning the training grounds into a thin river of mud and transforming wet grass and leaves into mush. He clenched his fingers in the muck, staring unseeing into the slush that was building up around his ankles.

Under this low light, shrouded by these dark skies, the terrible, cold mess he knelt in could've just as easily been blood.

So much blood. So much death.

I... I remember...

So many people.

Jounin, Iwa. He remembered that. Jounin, Iwa. Three of them. They'd underestimated him, that's why he'd won. They were strong, stronger than him, but they looked at him and saw a child.

A child.

He laughed bitterly without knowing why.

Who sees a child as a threat...

That's why Maru lasted as long as he did, they didn't want to look at him and see a demon, but then he killed too many people and they couldn't ignore it anymore, and they knew the truth then, he was a demon, he's a-

Wait, what?

He slumped lower and shaking hands found their way to clamp over his ears, but no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn't vanquish the voices in his own head. Maru... Maru had been a demon, but he was different, right? He was a different person? Maru killed by complete accident, but he- he was trained to kill. That was the difference.

Some difference.

By that logic- shouldn't I be the worse person?

He trembled, and the freezing sheets of rain continued to pour down over his head and leave him drenched and shivering.

Those jounins, they were dead. They'd attacked him, so- it was self defense, right? Except it wasn't, really. He'd been out there to kill Iwa nin, he just hadn't anticipated it to be a small team of jounin. And then the jounin's squad of chuunin, ten members strong, they'd come along, too, and they'd attacked him in self defense because he'd killed their captains, they were just defending their own, but now they were dead, all ten of them, dead and corpses still smoking, smoking, smoking in the rain, smoking...

He closed his eyes.

I stood there... and the people I killed, they were... all around me...

What was the difference, he wondered, between a demon and a shinobi?

He could remember his hands dripping with blood as he stood in the center of a massacre, the dead and the maimed lying at his feet, destruction wrought by his will. He could remember that as both a shinobi, and as the feared demon of Hazumi. The differences were minute, really; as a shinobi he was trained how to use the skills that had been uncontrolled and rampant in Maru, but the end game was no different.

Which one am I...

Memories, disjointed memories, they floated in a senseless order behind his eyes. Of Hazumi, of Konoha; his childhood with Sakumo, his childhood in the orphanage; the blank spots that dotted his year at the Academy, the black gaps peppered throughout the desperate training sessions he'd put himself through in the mountains; murder, death. Maru, Kakashi, which one was which? And which one was he?

Which... one...

The piercing whistle of a flute shattered his world.

He whipped around, jangled nerves only allowing him one response and one response only; the instinct of self preservation. He felt the white, electric energy burning on his fingers before he could see it, his feet on the sheer edge of the precipice that was danger, and raised his eyes to the threat.

Before him stood a slim, young girl. She, too, was soaked down to the bone, but she hardly even seemed to notice. Her hair was long and tangled and looked black in the night and rain, though it could have been any color, and she almost glowed, her skin white as snow. She didn't look calm, but, not dangerous, either- not dangerous...

In her hands, held up to her mouth, was a flute. He noted the strange technique around it and only it that protected it from the rain, a faint shield of air as thin as a single strand of hair hovering around the silver, but the girl herself, he noted, let her the rain fall on her without flinching. She seemed- hopeful. That's what her face looked like, hopeful, but anxious, too, and nervous, and he stared up at her- listening.

The woman, he knew her, she was so strongly familiar, like a scent or taste that he knew but just couldn't place, he knew her, she, she was one of those blank spots, he was positive...

She played the flute, and he listened.

Soft, soothing, smooth. Hectic, unpredictable, rushed. Serenades. Boleros. Nocturnes. Beginning one way and ending another, soaring through a prelude and finishing in slow, dragging notes that changed with the rain. The sound was pure and lyrical, easy and sweet, and it lulled him into a sense of security- false or not.

He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and listened to the music on top of the rain.

And, slowly, he felt his memories reorient themselves.

The longer he listened, just listened, didn't think or agonize or struggle, just listened, the easier it got to breathe. His thoughts stopped fighting to go in circles and the slower his panicked heartbeat dropped, and... right...

Maru used to be me. But I'm Kakashi now.

Maru was never a demon. And the difference is that Maru killed to protect himself. I kill to protect this village and its peace. Self defense, defense of others.

Slowly, the gaps filled in, the blank holes in his past left by that devastating seal began to be made clear again. His life after Hazumi became known to him once again like paint being dropped on a canvas, first little dots of color in a mass of hazy grey but those little dots, they spread, and he remembered again, and the weight on his chest eased, and he could breathe.

Kakashi felt what strength he did have give out on him, and he fell, lying spreadeagled on the dark, letting his head slip to the side so the cascading rain wouldn't blind him. He stared blankly at the girl, watching as she jerked the flute away from her mouth in surprise, her eyes widening, the anxiety turning into full blown panic.

"Thank you," he whispered, or maybe, he just mouthed it; he couldn't hear a thing over the pounding rain. "Thank you, Rin."

And there, pale and innocent and his savior, she looked almost like an angel. An angel, to his demon.

One red eye. Scarlet, a vivid, hellish crimson that glowed like hate, a backdrop for two circling onyx tomoes, little ink stains of black death. One, single, red eye.

It was irritated, the skin around it pink and swollen, one stitched over, black gash marked through as far as he could see, one end ascending up past bangs of ashy hair, the other disappearing beneath his mask. It hurt to have it open; felt strange to have his Chakra steadily drip away when he wasn't doing anything but staring in a mirror, the double vision of one normal eye and one that the saw the world in slow motion and noticed, acknowledged, and recorded every last detail was dizzying.

Kakashi stared flatly at his reflection.

He truly did look like a demon now.

He stared for as long as he could bear it, and when at least the Chakra drain and physical pain became too much for him, Kakashi whipped away and grabbed his headband to tie over his (not his) eye.

He didn't want to see that reflection any longer.

If you fight like a demon, you look like a demon, and everyone you touch dies as if you're poison...

...

Minato sat with Kushina underneath his arm.

He looked- distracted, Kakashi decided. Or vacant. His expression was just empty, really. Kushina seemed troubled and unsure of herself, and for a woman who always wore her heart on her sleeve, it looked particularly strange to see her so hesitant. She was trying to help Minato, but didn't know how- Kakashi was sure of that.

I- I had no idea what was happening. I thought everything was fine. Even when Kakashi used my special kunai, I thought...

Kakashi's eyes widened. What was going on? He couldn't hear Minato's voice, and he honestly wasn't that great at reading lips, but suddenly he was looking at his teacher and he understood every word he said. He didn't want to know what Minato was saying. He didn't want to know what it had been like from his eyes to get there and see- see- that Obito was dead-

-I didn't realize until all of the enemy was dead what was going on, what had happened. I think I saw how much better Kakashi was fighting but I didn't make the connection until I actually looked at him that- that the Sharingan- and what that meant...

The Sharingan!

Kakashi clamped a shaking hand over the eye, and the wave of relief that washed through him when Minato's words turned into soundless nothings was so powerful he almost fell off the branch.

"Hey, kid."

Kakashi swore, jerking so badly he almost fell again.

Twisting, he turned around to glare at Jiraiya, the Toad Sage having spontaneously appeared in the tree behind him without so much as the crack of a twig as a warning. The man's expression was unusually somber, pale and drawn, and, letting out a shaky breath, Kakashi forced himself to relax back against the tree. He tried not to think about why the shinobi known for turning S-ranked missions into jokes would look so serious.

"How did you-"

Jiraiya cut him off before he could even finish his sentence, raising a hand and twirling one of Minato's special kunai around it so fast, it was a blur. "He may have invented the technique, but he's not the only one who can use it," he said, glancing at the window Kakashi had been spying through just moments before.

Silence fell, Kakashi unsure of what to say and Jiraiya, clearly, waiting for him to speak. He raised a hand to rub his headband over his new eye, keeping his mouth shut. What was he supposed to do? He certainly wasn't explaining why he was hiding here, spying on something that was supposed to be private, because he didn't know himself. He certainly as all hell was not talking about what had happened.

"...You talked with Rin, yet?"

Kakashi narrowed his eye. The mention of just her name hurt, like something was squeezing him too tight inside, and he swallowed without saying a word. No, he hadn't talked with her yet; he hadn't seen her since getting back to the village and he hadn't said a word to her since the cave in. What words were there to say? Apologies were wasted; words could never fill the hole left, could never pay the price that now weighed on his heart. And what else, beside an apology, was he supposed to give? What- gratitude? Thanks for ripping out our friend's eye and putting it in my own?

He shook his head bitterly.

"You should," Jiraiya said simply, and Kakashi realized the Toad Sage had taken the motion as a belated answer to his question, not a response to his own miserable thoughts. "Regardless of your self-loathing and self-pity. The only thing worse than having a teammate die is having to watch the rest of your team suffer and be unable to help. And before you say she won't help- let her think she can. You did what you could on the mission. Don't stop that now."

Kakashi stared blankly down at his hands. He flexed his shaking fingers, wondering at powerful the latent influence of a demon really was, if he could manage to take down even a friend. That idiot wasted everything on me. And for what? I'm a stronger ninja- so WHAT? He was the better person.

This world needs more of him and less of me.

More of people like Rin, too.

These hands... Rin's been trying to teach them to do something other than kill. But that's- impossible. I never could manage to play like her because I'm NOT like her. She says that I have to feel something, have emotion- but...

"Hey."

Kakashi jumped again.

Jiraiya was watching him again, steadily just staring at him. He looked unsurprised, and the moment Kakashi had focused on him again, the Toad Sage said, "Don't get lost in there. You're always your own worst enemy... especially at times like that.

Unsure if Jiraiya meant him specifically, or shinobi in general, he just nodded numbly again.

Apparently satisfied, Jiraiya turned to descend back to the ground, standing and preparing to jump. Then, one last parting word left, he looked back over his shoulder. "Oi. Obito died because an Iwa shinobi caused a cave in and a rock hit him on the head. That's it. ...Don't forget it."

Kakashi was left staring as the sage disappeared.

He looked at his hands again, and wondered why they didn't look as bloody as they felt.

...

In the end, he ended up in the Uchiha district.

Not near Rin.

He kept away from prying eyes, through in a crowd full of Sharingan, that was easier said than done. He slipped from tree to tree, hiding place to hiding place, not bothering with genjutsu to help him hide. He was not welcome here, he knew. But that didn't matter.

I have to see...

The journey to Obito's house was short, shorter than he'd expected and certainly shorter than he'd wanted it to be. He knew the way, had gone there often enough when their teammate was late beyond even his usual terms, but this was the first time he'd gone there to do something over than drag the idiot out of bed.

Then he winced, and wished he hadn't thought of him as an idiot.

He wanted to go save our best friend. You wanted to blow up a damn bridge. Who's the idiot?

When he reached Obito's house and peered inside, it was with a sense of trepidation and dread. And, indeed, he could only stomach the sight for mere seconds before he was leaving again- this time, fleeing.

Both, clad in the black of mourning. Obito's mother was on the floor, her head buried in her knees, shaking down to her core, her desperate, distraught, devastated, sobbing a nail on a chalkboard to his ears. Her shoulders trembled, she gasped for breath, her chest heaved with the force of her sobs. Muffled screams were cried out against her knees, and the moment she raised her head, bloodshot, agonized eyes lifted just briefly before the world overcame her, and she was gasping into the black, safe cocoon created by her body.

His father was the exact opposite if ever there was one. Stoic and stony, like granite, just this blank shield with staring eyes and a terrible emptiness that left Kakashi cold inside. He stood, staring, unmoving, cold... like a statue had taken his place, a blank canvas that had yet to have color and life spilled onto it. Every touch of raging, fiery emotion that made the Uchiha, Uchiha, had left him.

Obito had felt enough for his whole family. With him gone, there was nothing left.

And Kakashi ran.

...

He did go see Rin, then.

Intentional or not, he didn't know. Whether he'd, on some level, known she'd been in the practice rooms, or just gone there to be there, he didn't know; he didn't really remember how he'd even gotten there. But when Kakashi blinked and realized he was standing outside of what had, somehow, become his and Rin's practice room, and reality returned to him once again, he saw Rin sitting in there ahead of him.

She wasn't practicing.

His hand moved of its own accord, opening the door, and his feet carried him inside when every fiber of his being screamed for him to run away and never come back. He didn't know what to say, but he had to say something, had to do something, because this entire hell was his fault and he couldn't stand to watch Rin cry like this when she just didn't deserve it.

He reached out to her helplessly. The sight tore at something deep inside him and he felt suddenly brittle as glass, his life, tenuous as a spider's thread. Rin...

She sat at the piano, but she wasn't playing. Her flute lay abandoned in her lap, one hand gripping it tight so it wouldn't fall but she was shaking, badly, so badly the instrument shook, too. Her head was buried in her arm on the keys, every minute shift or motion she made playing a different, dissonant, terrible, broken chord. She gasped, sobbing desperately, sobbing so hard she could hardly breath, devastating, end-of-everything kind of sobbing.

"...He LOVED YOU, Rin!"

...more than I ever could.

Kakashi felt something in him break.

Please, Rin. Don't cry like this. I already can't breathe.

I can't take much more...

Slowly, he looked from her to the flute in her lap, and he bit his lip. She played it when she was upset, right? It- it was supposed to help. That's what she said, that she played it when she was miserable, distressed, upset, sad, and that it helped...

He reached, trembling, and touched the flute. It was cold and perfect as ice.

Kakashi barely had to lift it an inch before Rin knew what he was doing. Gasping and sniffling, she turned her head to the side, just, watching him, and he swallowed the rising lump in his throat.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm so, so, so sorry.

"Please?" he whispered, just before his voice cracked.

Forget. Forget what happened. Make me forget, too. I don't want to think anymore. Make everything, just for a moment... stop.

And as if she could hear his thoughts, Rin nodded.

Kakashi closed his eyes, gasped, and tried to lose himself.

He could hear the sadness in her song, and it wasn't just because she was still crying. And, for the first time, he understood what she meant when she told him to play with emotion.

And, surrounded by the sounds of sorrow, there was no forgetfulness to be had. Just a never-ending cry of mourning and grief. It tasted of regret and guilt, and he wondered, not for the first time, if being a demon wouldn't have been so bad after all. What demon would feel those distinctly human emotions of regret? Guilt? Sadness? Loss?

What demon could feel like his chest was about so split open?

Like he couldn't even breathe?

The sound cut off abruptly, a bird shot down mid call, and Kakashi realized she was crying too hard to play. One hand pulled the flute closer to her side, and the other grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward, too, and he let her- all semblance of strength having fled from his limbs sometime ago.

His eyes felt wet.

CHIDORI!

Ka... Kakashi...

CHIDORI!

CHIDORI!

"CHIDORI!"

Ka... Kakashi...

Kakashi stared at his hands.

The blood was still there.

"S-so... much..."

Ka... Kakashi...

No matter how much he washed, it just wouldn't come off.

The violin sat against the wall next to him. The flute, on the floor. He'd worn gloves to bring them this far, too afraid the thick blood would rub off his hands and stain the perfect wood, the flawless silver. Even now, he couldn't help but be afraid, with them so close to him.

He glanced at the violin. Rin told him she liked to play it when she was happy. And it was true; the few times he'd seen her play it, she had been so undeniably happy, smile boldly on her face, blinding and brilliant, sometimes shaking with excitement or joy.

It was terrible that he had so few of those memories. That she could look so beautiful when she was so happy, but led a life when any such occasion for joy was terribly rare, without much reason to smile.

Then there was the flute. Stark cold and shiny, not like the violin, which seemed warm and dark. A terrible reflection of the sorrow that dominated her life. All their lives.

Ka... Kakashi...

It was no wonder, really, that the instrument he'd heard her play the most was the one that she couldn't even smile for. She'd laughed about it once, how the slightest inklings of a smile on the flute destroyed her sound, but now, it wasn't funny at all.

CHIDORI!

And now, now that he really needed an end to these terrible, terrible, circling thoughts...

He looked up at the piano, then touched his Sharingan.

That cursed Sharingan.

Obito's eye had turned music, like so many other things in his life, around on its head. Jutsu and techniques that he once spent hours learning- now copied in a mere second- same with music. Rin had spent a good decade learning piano, and was so much better than he could ever be, and that was fine, wonderful, actually- it was even nice to not be the best at something.

But then came the Sharingan.

All he had to do was watch Rin play something, tackle something so hopelessly complicated that the sheet music made his head spin and her hands were reduced to a veritable blur. Then he could sit down and play it back to her. Monkey see, monkey do.

It put a rather abrupt, terrible end to his attempts to play with any semblance of emotion.

Shaking still, Kakashi stood, stumbling forward to the piano, and fell rather than sat before it. He placed trembling hands down on the keys, staring at the sea of white and black- unable to stop shaking.

I'm sick of this terrible Sharingan. I never wanted it. I couldn't use it to do the one thing Obito asked of me. And it's... still here.

GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!

And he banged his head on the keys. Over, and over, and over, and again.

GET. OUT!

This. This was what he needed Rin for, so desperate a need it felt as if every breathe he took was not enough, and he felt dizzy. She could make those voices in his head stop. Just by being there, she could quiet the screaming. It wasn't even her music anymore, just- her.

CHIDORI!

Ka... Kakashi...

And when his fingers started moving, shifting, playing, it had nothing to do with making his thoughts just shut up. It was for Rin, and only her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

His fingers moved faster. They were shaking so much he could barely manage a thing, but he kept on doing it. Kept on playing.

Because it was what Rin had taught him, and it was for Rin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again. Then he screamed it.

"I'm sorry!"

Kakashi had never felt emotions this raw before. Years of shinobi first, emotions never and rule number twenty five burdened down a kid until he felt nothing. Was nothing. In Hazumi all such rules had been forgotten, but to what end? Emotion had made everything worse. Hazumi only made him try even harder to block out every semblance of feeling- no matter how much harder it suddenly was.

Obito was the pick axe that cracked the dam, and Rin was the monster that tore the dam to pieces.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. Sobbing.

Now he understood how to play with emotion. How to pour it into his hands and let it slip out into the sounds he could make. And with an endless fuel of sorrow, he could play for her forever.

Rin, you taught me how to feel.

Too late.

Tears fell onto the keys, and he kept on playing.

For her.