Silence (kakanaru)

Chapter 8

Kakashi joined Hisato in bed after the day was done. The two had quickly recovered from the morning's bout of emotions.

Hisato sat at the foot of the bed, legs tucked in. His scarf lay tangled in his lap, the seal holding Forbidden and Faded facing up. The man was twisting his hair back, tying it once more into a loose braid. The hold of Shinku was gone, and Kakashi saw Hisato's resent for everything related to Shinku in each careful plait in his dull red hair.

Kakashi dropped down beside him, back to the covers and forelegs falling over the edge. He watched Hisato's braiding, and then as the redhead swiped a palm over the book's seal. The tattered cover appeared without a flash. It was without the glow Kakashi had come to associate it with, the demonic coat that used to adorn the runes.

"What are you doing?"

Kakashi's question went unanswered, and he jerked as a flame lit the room orange. Pops and cracks filled his ears. Forbidden and Faded really did fade. The pages blackened and dissolved, and the remains disappeared before they reached the floor. Back into the seal, he realised. Hisato was erasing the past, Kakashi was sure.

But when he turned to his friend, the words mouthed were different to his own thoughts. Erasing the evidence.

..........................

Hisato clutched at his head, trying to breathe in. Pretending to be fine was hard. Too hard to go on.

He lay in his secluded apartment, letting the dam break. Release the water then shut it for another day. Act fine and healthy when he is not. Only let the agony be shown when no one is around.

Hisato faced every task with a facade of alacrity. He tried to smile and wave to the civilians on the streets. He only received scorn in return. What am I kidding? They probably think I'm a second Kyuubi come to haunt them. He twirled his hair, same as the Uzumaki, and also bearing semblance to the previous Jinchuuriki. The villagers don't know about Kushina's Jinchuuriki status, but they would have an inkling of what the Kyuubi looks like. Fiery and the harbinger of blood. Just like him.

The clatter from the kitchen wrenched him from his misery. Hisato schooled his face into nonchalance, rubbing the tears away. Water covered him briefly, washing out his tear-tracks as best as possible.

He emerged from his room, already sensing Kakashi's chakra. A warm scent wafted through the stagnant air. He cringed from it, bile skirting up his chest. Hisato saw Kakashi hovering over a pot. He flanked Kakashi, looking down into the broth.

Kakashi kept quiet, focusing on serving the broth into bowls. He set up the table, steam rising from the bowls he placed.

Hisato grudgingly sank into a chair. Kakashi dismissed his questioning gaze, raising a spoon and swirling around the broth. Hisato stared at the bowl, translucent liquid looking back at him. It struck him that broth was easy to digest after heaving out the contents of his stomach. But how could Kakashi know? Kakashi smiled up at him with carefully concealed concern.

"Eat. You'll feel better," he said. Hisato raised a brow at the threatening tone. He didn't pick up the spoon. "It's not poisoned." Blunt words. Hisato was stubborn, however, not wanting to vomit again. He turned away, pouting. Then Kakashi was at his side, kneeling on the floor. Hisato dared to look back and recoiled, dodging the spoon of food at his mouth.

"Eat you stubborn bastard," Kakashi repeated dangerously. The jonin sighed. "I promise you can eat it." He hated to admit, but the broth was actually decent. He swallowed, feeling it settle in his empty stomach. It was... pleasant. But the remnants of his nightmare still refused to cease their haunt.