Promises Remembered

Part 2 Chapter 9

A/N I am hardcore struggling with the end of this. I have all the way to where Kakashi shows up the day of to save her and I hate how I wrote it. It feels so anti climactic. BUT there are a few things I like. Would it be weird if there wasn't a fight? Like, just two dudes kidnapping people and fucking with time? Or do I need loads of goons and a fight I'm incapable of writing? IF that is the case, then I may need to recruit another writer that is actually good at that lol IDK. It's not really that important PLOT wise, as the stuff after won't really change in any significant way. NOTE this is not about Sakura herself. Her fate is not included in this confusion lol I will probably have to slow down, both to match my beta's pace and to workshop the ending. I'll probably write it all kinds of ways until I like it. ANYWAY enjoy this chapter! It is... pretty sad at first. But just the first scene, never fear. Let me know what you think, both of this chapter and my ideas for the end. 

Part 2 Chapter 9

Kakashi

Day two-thousand four-hundred and eight without her

His first, empty bottle of sake rolled away from him along the balcony. Kakashi barely spared it a thought as he took a long drag from his cigarette and fought with the cap of the second bottle. The ache in his chest felt like it really might kill him.

He needed to feel numb tonight.

Through his tears he could hardly see what he was doing and the bottle slipped from trembling hands.

"Fuck!"

It hit the floor, shattering immediately. The rice wine flooded the area around him, soaking his pants and racing towards the picture sitting beside him. "No. No, no!'

He threw himself to the side, snatching up the well worn treasure, saving it just in time. Breaths coming out in chattering gasps, Kakashi rolled onto his back, pressing the picture to his chest as sake soaked into his clothes. Shit, it was freezing. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a familiar voice chastised him for ruining his haori. It would need drycleaning now.

A brittle, choked laugh escaped, more tears uncounted slipping down either side of his face to mingle with the sake beneath him. Fuck.

He missed her so much.

It hurt—it always hurt, but tonight... Tonight he wanted to drown in his tears and spilled sake.

Sniffing hard, he dragged an arm across his face, clearing his eyes enough to see. He held the picture up, staring at her smiling down at him. A sob tore free as he traced the lines of her face, her body wrapped in white silks, with his fingers. She was so beautiful.

She's never coming back to you, idiot. She's dead.

The bitter voice that had plagued him for years—the voice that sounded like his younger, angrier self—repeated its same tired lines. His fingers tightened on the picture, pressing it against his face as he let out another sob and curled onto his side. Usually he could banish the voice. Tell himself it was wrong, lies born of his own hurt and insecurities.

But not tonight.

Tonight it felt true.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried to shut it away, tried to remember her as she'd been on that day, seven years before.

Golden afternoon light... Her beautiful smile, green eyes peering up at him from beneath white silk, so full of happiness and love.... The weight of her in his arms, her painted lips against his...