~ AYAME ~

It's been nearly eight weeks since that night. I think about it all the time. His face appears in my mind and all I can do is collapse. Kakashi doesn't understand why I do this, but he doesn't ask. He just holds me as I claw my own head, groaning while I try to push the black-haired boy out of my thoughts.

I sit in his arms on the couch. His strong grasp is like a weight to keep me grounded. When I feel another fit coming on, I run to the shower. It's the only thing that dulls my raging mind. While I kneel on the ground, holding my head, Kakashi turns the water so it's warm but not too hot and leaves me alone in the bathroom.

I know that he sits on the floor outside the door. He wants to be close to me, to make sure I am okay. If it were any other time, I would be grateful. But my mind doesn't allow me to feel anything but utterly sick. I turn the water to its hottest because the burning sensation distracts me from vile thoughts.

I step into the shower fully clothed, completely forgetting to strip down first. It doesn't matter, I just need to feel the burn. I need to burn the thoughts away before they overtake me completely, to the point I can't bear it anymore.

Through gritted teeth, I focus on the pain from the blazing hot water as it hits the skin on the back of my neck like a rain of fire.

Fire, like the the color of his eyes.

It's the single thought that slips through that is enough to make me collapse onto the shower floor. There's a loud thud as my knees hit the ground and Kakashi shouts from outside the bathroom door, "Oy! Is everything okay? Aya, you alright??"

I end up vomiting and watch as it mixes with the water and escapes down the drain. That's the fifth time this week. This is also the fifth fit this week. After a while, the water starts to turn cold so I shut it off and climb out of the shower. My clothes are dripping, leaving puddles on the floor. When I unlock the door, Kakashi is there waiting, eyes wide and filled with the familiar concerned err that they seem to constantly hold nowadays.

He spots me in my soaking wet clothes and his expression drops.

"Aya..."

"There's no hot water left," I mumble as I leave the bathroom. He steps aside and watches helplessly as I trail water all over my apartment.

"You should change out of those wet clothes," he says, coming up behind and placing a hand on my shoulder. I don't react and keep walking. Eventually, I find my way through the mess that is my apartment and fall onto my bed, not bothering with my clothes. They are the least of my worries.

Kakashi keeps talking but his words sound muffled and confusing. All I can do is stare up at the ceiling and exist.

There's a knock on the door. I muster up enough energy to turn my head and watch everything unfold. It's nothing new, I've seen this all before. Asuma comes in, Kakashi and him mumble some things and shoot me concerned looks, Kakashi leaves and Asuma sits on the wooden chair they've placed beside my bed.

Asuma used to talk to me but I think he gave up a couple of weeks ago. Now, he just watches with sad, tired eyes.

At some point, he gets up and starts cleaning my apartment. He picks the pillows and blankets up off the floor and folds them nicely on the couch. He takes all the dishes that are scattered about—most half- or not-eaten—and takes care of them in the kitchen. He asks if I am hungry but it's rhetorical because he makes me some soup anyways. He spoon-feeds me and I throw it up 30 minutes later.

It's all routine.

Midnight approaches and he makes a bed for himself on the couch, falling asleep only after he makes sure I am asleep.

When I wake in the morning, I hear voices on the other side of the apartment. Without opening my eyes, I listen.

"I think it's time to take her in," Asuma says in a whisper, so as not to wake me. "She's not improving one bit. This is different than the time she found out about her father."

The second voice is Kakashi. I would recognize it from a mile away. It's a voice I can never forget, a smooth, low grumble, "I wish it didn't have to come to that."

"I know. But if we don't get her checked out, she might keep spiraling. She's so distressed that she's throwing up, Kakashi."

I hear Kakashi sigh heavily as he walks across the kitchen, slumping into a chair at the table and probably putting his face in his hands as his next words are muffled, "The genin are asking about her more and more. I can't keep lying to them. Maybe it is time to admit her."

Another chair slides and Asuma sits down, across from Kakashi. "I hate the thought of it as much as you, Kakashi, but I agree," he mutters in that low, smoker's rasp of his.

Kakashi sighs again, and there's sadness hinting in his voice, "I just don't want to lose her. I know she's not crazy, she doesn't need to be locked up in a psych ward. She needs-" he pauses for a moment, as if contemplating his next words. "She needs time to heal her heart."

"You really think that's what this is about? I was under the impression she didn't love him anymore."

There's a pause, then Kakashi answers in a low voice, almost a whisper but not quite, "Yes, she did say she wasn't in love with him anymore. But I think it's more complicated than that. She's still mourning her abortion from 12 years ago, you know."

"Abortion?" Asuma asks, voice filled with complete and utter shock, as well as confusion. I feel myself jolt a little and my eyes shoot wide open.

"Didn't she tell you-"

I sit up suddenly and manage to halt their conversation. Both men turn their heads and stare at me from the kitchen table with wide, curious eyes.

"I want to go," I say, which earns confused looks from both of them. Honestly, I would have said anything to stop their ensuing conversation. Why the hell did I say 'I want to go'? What in the hell was I thinking? Kakashi gets up and makes his way over while Asuma remains at the table. He takes a tentative seat on the wooden chair beside my bed. I repeat myself, "I want to go."

"Go where?" Kakashi mutters, voice slightly eager. He finally settles into the chair. I haven't spoken to either of them in weeks. My voice is hoarse and dry, words feel strange on my tongue after so long.

"I want to go see a doctor. I want to-" I pause, jaw hanging open as I look down at my skinny fingers which I am fiddling relentlessly with, without even noticing. "-know what's wrong, why I feel like this. Why I can't keep food down. Why I'm exhausted and weak. Why I can't get out of this... hole."

My eyes meet Kakashi's and I see the familiar sadness. But, I also see a glimmer of hope. I know what he's thinking. The first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one. I've always known nothing is right these last eight weeks, but I've never once admitted it out loud. 

"Okay," he says, grabbing my hand and wrapping his warm ones tightly around it, like he never wants to let go. I want to cry. I want to hug him and tell him how much I love him. I want to kiss him passionately and apologize for everything I've made him go through these last few months.

But I can't.

It's like there's a mental barrier, stopping me from expressing my true feelings. It's like the truth of what happened on that night, eight weeks ago, is what is causing that mental barrier.

But if I tell him, he might never look at me the same. And if I don't, he might assume something worse. There is no right answer. There is no way out of this.

A single tear escapes from the corner of my eye but it doesn't make it far down my cheek before a gentle finger wipes it away. My lips clench as I try to hold back more tears. Looking into his deep, grey eye makes it worse. Seeing him look at me that way makes me feel all sorts of things that I know I can't express.

* * *

I go to my doctor's appointment. They perform a bunch of basic tests, of which the results will come in later, before prescribing me with some antidepressants and sending me on my way. Asuma and Kakashi are both in the waiting room for me when I come out.

They seem relieved when there is no doctor escort, meaning my psyche was cleared. It's a bit easier to talk now but I still feel strange and distanced from everyone—a certain type of hopelessness. Like a tunnel with no light in the foreseeable future. It's like I am drowning, imprisoned in my own numb mind. There's no light, no way out. Only a small window with which I can see Kakashi and Asuma through. Their faces are both the same, staring down on me with sympathetic pity as I hold up the prescription bag.

"I have a mission with my team," Asuma says, pulling me into a long hug. He holds my head in his hands and my cheek squishes against his green Jonin vest. "But you and I both know Kakashi will take good care of you until I get back."

When he lets go, he exchanges a look with Kakashi who returns it with a curt nod. Then Asuma leaves and Kakashi guides me out. The streets are buzzing with people but I can hardly pay attention to anything other than the tugging feeling in my mind and gut. Every part of me urges to spit it all out, tell him everything, but another more dominant part forces me to hold it all back.

All of these feelings are laced with the same regret I've been unknowingly carrying with me these last 12 years. As we get closer to the apartment building, I feel a different tug. It's a warmer one, something I haven't felt in a long time. So I follow it, allowing it to take me wherever it needs to take me.

Kakashi doesn't question me, just lets me go where I please. I am outside for the first time in eight weeks, after all. He's probably over the moon about this. If not for his next realization, he'd say 'Progress, Aya', and wrap me in a side hug. 

We get away from the busy streets and head over the river towards the graveyards. I know he doesn't expect this because there is no word of gentle encouragement and no side hug.

"Hey, where are you-" but he stops, furrowing an eyebrow and glancing at me sidelong as I enter the long yard. Hundreds of graves, row upon row, all stretch in perfectly straight columns across the grass. A graveyard him and I know all too well. Many of our friends are buried here. His family is buried here. His mother, father, closest comrades, and his sensei, the Fourth Hokage and his wife. 

Yes, this graveyard is where Kakashi spends a lot of his time. But I don't, which is why Kakashi is confused. I've come here before, to honor the fallen Hokage, but never for my ANBU friends, and they are the only friends I've had that I've lost. And unfortunately, their bodies were never buried. ANBU are ordered to destroy each other's or their own body if possible, to protect the secrets of Konoha. It's tragic and horrible but that's why we have the KIA Stone. That's where I go when I want to honor the dead.

But not today. Today is different.

There's an area of the graveyard, in the bottom left corner beside the fence, where people have placed unofficial graves. They're sloppy looking compared to the perfect slabs that fill the rest of the yard. I walk over and pick up a rock just large enough from near a tree. Once I find the right place, I ask Kakashi for a kunai.

He's really, truly confused, but upon seeing that I desperately mean it, he reaches into his pouch and hands one to me. It feels cold and heavy in my hand. How long has it been since I've held a weapon like this?

Bit my bit, I scratch a date into the stone. Kakashi kneels down beside me as I carve the day and month into the smooth, grey rock, creating coarse and rigid lines. His confusion turns to realization when I carve the year—just over 12 years ago.

It dons on him and his expression flips completely, going from pure confusion to half-way to realization. He turns to look at me but I continue to stare at the stone, brows furrowed, in concentration.

"Aya..."

I stand up and walk slowly into the trees, grabbing some wild-flowers and bringing them back to the rock. After placing them at the base of the stone, I take a step back. I take a moment of silence as I stare at the unofficial grave of my unborn child that would have been almost 13 years old now. My hand finds my abdomen and I leave it there for a while.

He speaks quietly, breaking the silence with delicacy. "You will be okay, you know."

More silence stretches between us as I kneel before the grave. The word takes a while to find my lips, and when it does, it's strained and forced out with a slight stutter as tears well up again, "How?"

Kakashi, kneeling beside me, lets his head fall as he closes his eyes. I look at him with pleading eyes, hoping for an answer to fix all but knowing that is impossible. Hopes are just hopes, after all. I notice the sun beginning to set on the horizon behind us.

That's right, Hope is like a sunset, I'm reminded. Beautiful and brilliant, majestic and colorful, captivating and enticing. But it all fades to black, like the deceiving thing it is.

He speaks quietly with his head low. I can hear the hurt in his voice, "I carry regret too. I let both my comrades die. One died saving me and made me promise to protect the other. Then the other died by my own hand. Every day, I wash my hands and scrub so hard my skin burns, but the feeling never washes away. I'll carry that regret until the day I die." I observe him as he pulls the gloves off his hands. The ones he almost always wears, even inside. I never thought anything of it until now. I just assumed it was second nature to him, wearing those finger-less gloves with a metal deflector shield on the top. Similar to the ones we had to wear in ANBU. As he carefully pulls both gloves off, my eyes go wide, however much I try to hide it. 

Both hands are covered with sore, red, blistering rashes. Rashes resembling friction-burn. Rashes, I realize, from washing and scrubbing his hands with such force and frequency.

He goes quiet for a moment and I can hear my own breath, slow and steady through slightly parted lips as I look at him intently, trying to reach his eyes. He looks up and meets my eyes and it's like his hurt is shared with me too. Just by looking into his eye and seeing the pain and struggle, I start to feel some of it too. It feels so similar to the hurt I feel when my hand is over my abdomen or when I look at the homemade grave in front of us.

"Rin was like Sakura," he continues. With each and every word, I feel myself delving deeper into Kakashi's hurt and in a strange way it comforts me. Not the hurt itself, but the knowing. Knowing we both feel the same way. Knowing I am not alone in this world of regret and confusion and hurt.

Knowing that there's someone who understands. 

"She was always in the crossfire between Obito and I, and all she wanted was for us all to get along. Obito, he was like Naruto. A total idiot with a big ego, and he was always showing off. But he had determination unlike any other. And I was like Sasuke, cold and reserved and not caring about my other teammates. After Obito died, I regretted everything. It changed me and I promised I would protect Rin. But I couldn't protect her, and she ended up dying to my own hand. My own wretched jutsu; my chidori. I broke my promise to Obito and lost another important person in my life at the same time. But I'm still here, still living. What I'm trying to say is that we all do things we regret, but we get through them. Somehow, we get through it and we need to keep going, even when it hurts."

I don't know how to respond. I feel like I should be comforting him, telling him it's alright, but there's a part of me that feels like I would be telling him another lie. So I answer him with as much truth I can muster.

"I can never forgive myself."

"Me neither," Kakashi admits, and I take in a breath. "I still hurt. Every day is a struggle, and not a day goes by that I don't think about every person I have lost. But I move on anyways, and I keep on moving." He looks at me with a lone, pleading eye, taking my face in his hand. "You need to keep moving."

"I can't."

"You can," he answers back, stronger this time.

"No, I can't!" I exclaim, removing his hand from my cheek and turning my head away. But my attempts to distance myself from him fail miserably as he shuffles forward and pulls me into his chest, resting his chin atop my head. I feel myself sob. I wonder what's going on in his mind right now. Still, despite all the fog and lies, all the things I'm keeping from him, he still cares for me. I am at my worst and still, he holds me and begs me to come back to him.

Even after weeks in this dark hole I've dug myself into, he still stands at the top and offers his hand. No, that's not  quite right... He has climbed into the hole with me. He is what's holding me together. Without him, I know I would break completely.

So, despite not knowing anything and probably assuming many things about Raven and I, he still holds me in his arms and says, "Yes, we can. I'm with you, no matter what. Every step of the way. We can do this." My sobs taper off and he continues to hold me tightly. Fleetingly, I hope for a moment that he will never let go. Light from the sunset is almost completely gone and the stars are starting to become visible in the darkening sky.

In this fragile moment in his arms, I speak into his chest the words that I know will change everything.

"Kakashi."

He muzzles his face in my hair as he speaks, "Yes, my love?"

The sun disappears over the horizon, casting a dark shadow over us.

"I'm pregnant."