The Case-Book of Kakashi Hatake

The Beginning {Part 2}

A month passed quickly. I learned that Asuma was in the process of securing a clerk position in a small town twenty miles from the city and that Kurenai worked for one of the richer families in Konoha. I wondered if her employers had known my parents. I found out that the two had met one night as Kurenai walked home later than usual. Some drunk had started to harass her, and Asuma had swooped in like a knight in shining armor to walk her the rest of the way, pretending to be her brother. They were quite convinced that they'd both fallen in love that moment, though I wasn't anywhere near as ready to accept such a corny concept. They'd been married for just over three years and had sent Sarutobi an announcement for the big event in the hopes of making amends. The father of the groom hadn't even sent a letter in reply.

I was sitting in my room, staring at my old violin and trying to decide if I should pick it up again. I hadn't played the entire time I'd been in the military, but I'd been considered something of a prodigy as a child. I picked it up, fingers ghosting across the strings as I closed my eyes only to find it terribly out of tune. After tightening the strings carefully, I realized I had no sheet music. With a shrug, I placed it on my shoulder and just started to play. The crisp notes quivered around me, and I lost myself to my thoughts, the music changing to shape to the subject matter.

I thought that I had imagined the first knock, the bow stilling on the instrument. But the second, more persistent knock could not be ignored as it rang through my single room with urgency. Violin still in hand, I pulled open the door only to freeze, blood growing cold as ice at the sight that greeted me.

"Kakashi..." Kurenai whispered as her eyes overflowed to run down tear-stained cheeks.

I stepped back and ushered her in to sit in my chair before putting a kettle on the wood stove in the corner that functioned as my pseudo-kitchen and heat source on cold nights. I quickly added more wood to the small fire that had been flickering weakly.

"Black tea alright?" I asked without turning around, busying myself with the mugs so that I wouldn't have to look at the pain in her eyes again just yet.

"Yes," she said softly, breath hitching slightly. "I didn't know that you played the violin."

I turned and leaned against the wall, suddenly finding myself unable to stand without assistance. The feeling of foreboding was growing in the pit of my stomach to an unbearable degree; something had happened to Asuma.

"I learned as a child, but I don't play much anymore."

"I heard you from the hall... you should keep it up. You're very skilled." Her hands were shaking. My sensitive nose picked up the scents of coffee, sweat, ink, and old wood. It was a far-cry from the usual flowers, jam, and silver polish that followed the woman. I could see where she'd worried her fingernails down to the quick and the creases on her skirt from sitting for a prolonged period of time.

"Kurenai," she looked up suddenly at the sound of her name, "were you at the police station?"

She gave a weak chuckle, a sad attempt at levity when she was so obviously distraught. "What gave me away?"

"The smell."

She nodded, "You would notice something like that."

"Is everything alright?" I knew that everything was certainly not alright, but I didn't know what else to ask to broach the subject.

"No," her voice came in then faded out like a gentle gust of wind. "Asuma didn't come home last night, and-and I was starting to get worried, but he can take care of himself, you know. This morning, I went by the police station just to make sure nothing was wrong, and I waited there for so long for them to get around to talking to me that I probably lost my job. And when they did, they said that they had found a body last night that fit his description. I-I can't look at it. I can't identify him, I just can't. There's still a chance that he could be alive, but I won't allow myself to hope until I can be absolutely certain it's not him in there."

"You want me to identify the body for the police." It wasn't a question; I knew what she was trying to ask.

She only nodded in reply.

I took the kettle from the stove and set it on my desk. Tea could wait, there were much more pressing matters at hand.

"If you don't want to come, you can wait here, if you'd like."

She shook her head and stood. "I have to know as soon as possible. This waiting is pure torture."

I nodded and grabbed my coat, leading the way out of our building and waving down a cab when we reached the street. A hansom pulled up, and I helped Kurenai step up into the small seat meant for two before telling the cabby our desired location. The journey whizzed by in silence, the air tangibly thick with tension.

We walked into the police station but were stopped by a young officer who made his way forward to intercept us.

"Kurenai? What are you doing here?"

He was several years younger than the two of us with black hair pulled into a ponytail and lazy, dark eyes that were filled to the brim with intelligence.

"Shikamaru," she gave a ghost of a smile, "I didn't realize that you still worked in Konoha."

"I just came back, actually. I'd been in Kuromoor for a few years, but the head Inspector there is a bit too eccentric for my tastes. I couldn't handle that much enthusiasm in the mornings any more, or that much green." He shuddered.

I had a feeling that I knew the inspector he was talking about. It seemed that my old school friend still dressed hideously.

"Who's this with you?" He asked, lazy eyes turning to me, taking in my unkept appearance.

I brought my gaze level with his, "Kakashi Hatake."

He shook my hand, "Inspector Shikamaru Nara." Shikamaru turned back to Kurenai, "Where's Asuma? Why isn't he with you?"

I could see her hands start to shake and the young Inspector's face start to fill with worry. I decided to save her the pain of answering.

"That's why we're here."

He froze, "Come with me. I'd like to help, if I can."

I resisted saying, "the more the merrier," knowing that that would be inappropriate at the time and instead dutifully followed him through the station.

Shikamaru spoke to a few of his colleagues along the way before taking us to a door labeled, "Coroner."

I followed the young man in, Kurenai staying out in the hall, worrying a lip between her teeth. We walked over to the man sitting at the desk along one wall, filling out paperwork, and after a brief exchange, he led us to the unidentified body.

Taking a deep breath, I lifted and pulled back the sheet. I'm not a stranger to death in any way, but it's always different when it's someone you know, when it's someone you'd played shogi with two nights before, when it's someone who'd unwittingly been pulling you out of your self-pity and depression. There was no doubt in my mind that the man in front of me was Asuma Sarutobi, even with the waxy yellow skin due to being bloodless. I glanced up at Shikamaru, and I could see that he had come to the same conclusion.

Dear god, how on earth was I going to tell Kurenai?