[IC] Appointments

[ura_no_ura]

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[tsunderebunny]

[It was the simple offer, spoken in the husky tone of a man wracked by grief and inner turmoil, that made Barnaby drop his hand to his side and hold still. If not for Saori's suggestion to stay in House 44 in the days that followed the incident, Barnaby was sure that he would have relied on the bottles to sleep at night. Every night. Instead his only recourse was to stay awake until he was exhausted, and even then the sleep was fitful.

There was no way to win.

Barnaby peered over his shoulder at the man he had called lover for years-- no, weeks. He remembered the way his eye lit up when he laughed over something that the dogs did, and the way they fell into eachothers arms on those nights--

No. It was only a few. He flushed at the memory of those sweet, hazy nights. It was something that Barnaby had hoped to forget. But, it was impossible to ever forget.

He slid his hands into his pockets and slowly turned around, not daring to make eye contact. It was too intimate.

He wished he had left his glasses in his room.]

Yeah. [His own tone was almost noncommital.] I was planning to drink anyway.

[Just a glass of wine in front of a fake city that was far easier to dream about.]

1/2

[ura_no_ura]

[ Maybe this is a terrible idea.

(It most certainly is a terrible idea.)

Maybe Kakashi shouldn't be doing this at all. Maybe he should be backing up and shutting the door. Maybe he should walk to the nearest mirror, reveal his Sharingan and tell himself to forget, let it all fade into nothing, one big fat nothing, like it never was. Maybe then he can pretend that Barnaby hadn't seen him or known him for what he really is at all, peeled away the parts of him that he holds around himself like armor. Maybe he can offer to do the same for Barnaby, to make it easier for the both of them, so that they both can forget and go on living at the edges of each other's lives as total strangers who never knew each other at all. Who never laughed or cried or screamed or loved.

Or lived.

Because for a moment, they did. Or at least, Kakashi did.

And that's the hardest part of all. How do you forget what it was like to be alive, to not have the weight of too many lives hanging around your throat. To have a reason to live beyond the duty, beyond the promise to live on to memorialize the silence. To give meaning to the loss and the madness, the terrible ways you all end up losing your minds because you've cut out too much of what makes you you in order to survive the long nights and the knowledge of what hides in the shadows.

How do you forget that for a moment, you weren't a shinobi, but just a man who could love and live like anyone else, who could smile and dream like anyone else, who could have a family and loved ones you called your friends like all the people who walk in daylight and sleep through the night and never need to know the weight of a kunai in their hands, or the way her heart felt when you tore it out of her chest, or the way the world ended because you were trash, and could not protect anything that mattered in the end, because your hands were made to end lives, not to keep them going.

How can you forget any of it at all, when trying to forget is what's been slowly driving you insane, when you can't even look him in the eye because you can't bear to see the nothing they reflect, when all that you remember was nothing in the end. One big fat fucking nothing, just a fool's dream, a whisper of what never was, and could never have been. ]

[ura_no_ura]

[ There's a fist in his chest closing around his lungs, and the feeling's enough to make him draw in a slow, measured breath as he swallows it down and forces himself to look at Barnaby. Forces his eye up to the other's face, only to find that Barnaby isn't even looking back at all. ]

Mm. Alright. Roof's nice this time of the night. I'll grab the Scotch.

[ He manages to say after a moment, then looks down at the box in his hands again. He supposes he could get Barnaby to eat some of it, even if he has no intention of eating the cloyingly sweet thing. ]

Here, hold this.

[ Without waiting for Barnaby to object, he shoves the box into the blond's hands, then turns and heads back into his apartment, but leaves the door wide open, with the intent of grabbing the bottle of Scotch and another glass for Barnaby. ]

[tsunderebunny]

[It was just pound cake. Nothing more. No sickeningly sweet icing, no fruit or nuts or chocolate swirls baked inside. No, it was a simple vanilla loaf cake.

Like what his Aunt Samantha always gave him. Used to give him. He still didn't want to believe that she was murdered by the hands of a man who manipulated him for years. The man he used to think of as a father.

Barnaby looked up at Kakashi's retreating form, teetering on the edges of the unknown himself. Like Kakashi, those were the few times he could actually say that he was happy. The others were with Kotetsu, particularly when he learned that the old Tiger had survived. Otherwise all he knew was the black, clinging tendrils of despair and a vengeance that ultimately ended in failure. Twenty years of fighting, and he was exhausted.

Now he knew something else. The reality-- the actual, real life that was his-- was terrifying to return to.

Perhaps he should have stayed with Saori. Perhaps he should fall back into the old ways and hunt down the Malnosso with a renewed vengeance. They were the ones who promised them protection from the Cultists.

The crimes were unforgivable.

'Ouroborous, Ouroborous ouroborous ouroborous' could change to Malnosso, Malnosso malnosso malnosso' if he wasn't careful.

He wanted this to end. He wanted some friends for a change. He wanted a chance to live.

Silently he followed Kakashi inside the flat, taking the open door as a silent invitation for him to enter. Even if it wasn't, he would have entered anyway.

It was his choice. He only wanted to act on his own will.]