Title: Carry On
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Kakairu
Word Count: 576 words
Rating: PG, possibly PG-13 for death situations
Summary: He hasn't moved since.
Notes: Spoilers for Chapter 425 and now 449.
EDIT: 5/30/2009 - I'm never writing fic for this fandom again. With Chapter 449 in mind, this fic is no longer canon. Please enjoy it anyway!

Iruka sits in the middle of apartment, having realized some time ago that it was now very empty.

He hasn't moved since.

Quiet. The place had always been quiet, but now there was utter silence. It echoes off the walls, the lack of a page being turned, or sound of something cooking, or someone snoring, pressing heavily on his chest, suffocating him but the idea of breathing is beyond him.

Is this what it feels like to die? Iruka remembers when his parents died, how he'd been sad, lonely, and scared. But somehow, he had never doubted that there would be a tomorrow, that he would carry on and life would continue.

But now, everything has stopped. The clock ticks, but no time passes. His lungs still inhale, but he doesn't live. His heart still beats, and he feels nothing. It may be Kakashi's body that lay rotting beneath the ground, but it is Iruka whose life has come to an end.

There is a soft knock at the door. It cuts into Iruka's world of not-living, like a razor across his heart. It reminds him to breathe, reminds him to think, reminds him that life will carry on with or without him.

Again, a knock at the door, bouncing off the walls and Iruka's skull.

And again.

And again.

Without thinking, because thinking truly is beyond his capabilities, he reaches for a frame on the nearby coffee table and with a yell, hurls it at the door. The glass shatters, the wooden frame breaking at one corner. Iruka doesn't look, instead sits back on the floor and tries to not-live again. It's not so hard.

The door creaks open, clicks close. Heavy footsteps behind him, and Kurenai has to hold his shoulders to lower herself to the floor beside him.

He doesn't move, doesn't think, doesn't mean to breathe-

She's silent, pressed fully against his side, her enormous stomach against his hip and thigh, her arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"I never cried," she says finally, brushing his hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. "I know he wouldn't have wanted me to be sad, so I didn't cry."

Iruka closes his eyes, hoping, praying that she'll stop talking and leave him be.

"It's hard," she admits. "Always will be. But Azuma would have wanted me to keep going, to keep living. So, I did."

Iruka, against his every will, takes a shaky breath.

"I really should have cried," she says, her voice shaking too.

Iruka squeezes his eyes tight, holds his breath.

"He loved you, y'know," Kurenai says. "He and Azuma, they weren't the type to say it in so many words, but Kakashi loved you so much. You could tell by the way he looked at you."

The sob tears of Iruka before he can stop it, and he bites his lip to keep it in. The copper taste of blood is on his tongue.

"It's okay to be sad," Kurenai says, her cheek against his, and he can't tell if it's her tears on his cheek or his own. "Eventually, you'll have to stand up. The kids need you to. Naruto needs you to. Kakashi would have wanted you to."

His shoulders are shaking, and the dread and relief flood his system, and he curls in on himself. There will be a tomorrow.

"It's okay to cry," Kurenai says, crying as well.

With or without Kakashi, there will be a tomorrow.