"God, Kakashi! What the hell are you thinking?"

"My company won't be on the front lines, we're backup for the front."

"So I quit ANBU to preserve this family and this baby-" I hold tight to my jutting abdomen, a terrible concoction of fear, anger, and pregnancy hormones rising in me. "-and you accept a position as a company leader in a fucking war!" He reaches tenderly for my shoulder but I move out of the way, arms crossed in frustration.

"I had to. They had no other candidate for the third division." He tries to speak in monotone, if only to avoid giving me more reasons to unleash my wrath, but I can see in his eyes that he's aching beneath the facade. He wishes things were different too.

"And what about us? What about this family? You couldn't take a position where you'll be stationed somewhere safe? Somewhere- somewhere," I struggle to get the words out through the tears. My throat feels tight from crying and tired from yelling, "somewhere safe..."

Silence falls between us and I feel the child inside me kick. Unlike usual, it brings me no joy. Today, it only reminds me that I have to bring a child into a world in war, while my husband leads an army, his life on the line.

My whispered, pleading words fill the dead silence, "Somewhere there's even a little hope of you coming home."

Then he whispers, sadly but surely, "Nowhere is safe anymore."

Akaya starts crying from the other room, awakened from her slumber, and I don't hesitate to run to her—to hold her tight and tell her I love her. Her brown locks fall softly over her tired grey eyes.

"I'll be okay..." he says, entering behind me to Akaya's room quietly, but I know he's only saying that because the fear of the moment calls for it, and it's all he can do to try and comfort his wife. "I wish I could stay, especially now." After stroking Akaya's cheek with sad eyes, he reaches for my abdomen and I let him. It's his baby too and who am I to deny him that? "Due in a month..." he says as he gets down on his knees and tenderly holds my round stomach. "I wish I could promise to return... I wish I could meet my son... I wish-"

"Stop," I mutter abruptly. "You survived Pein's attack on the village and you'll survive this." Him and I are so alike, giving each other false assurances to make the other better. I can't see his face but I can feel his tears soaking into my shirt just above my belly button as he hugs me and our unborn child.

Before now, I'd only seen my husband cry once... in that tender moment many years ago on the bridge when he proposed... when he told me he loved me even though I'd slept with Raven and I told him I was raped, that I'd never been disloyal to him, and I held him as he wept in my arms.

Now he cries, holding the son he might never get to meet. It's the bitterest of moments in the bitterest of times.

We both know the severity of war. We watched so many die in the last war and it's impossible to forget the bodies upon bodies that were funneled into the graveyards after it was over. It's impossible to forget the faces of our classmates, friends, and family that were taken by it. Impossible to unimagine the things it might to do those closest to you.

Kakashi rises then, taking my face in his hand as he does, holding tenderly with calloused fingers like I might shatter at any moment. His grey eye is soft, adoring. He looks on me with a single opened eye, tender and sweet. "I thought we weren't doing that," he says.

I feel my brows furrow, unsure of what he means. "Doing what?"

"Lying like that. Telling each other we'll return home even when we both know there's no guarantee."

A painful pang of guilt and fear shutter through me, but I hold it together. Not for my sake, but Kakashi's. I won't let him watch me fall apart. I won't cause him more worry than he already carries. One less burden to carry to the war with him. Though I feel weak and afraid, as though I might shatter at any moment, I hold strong for him.

And, it's just like that day many years ago in the Land of Waves—the day Kakashi softly woke me from my nightmares and held me tightly for the first time—only the roles are flipped. I pull him tightly into me and hold, mind telling an empty promise never to let him go, quietly whispering the same thing he once told me.

"Impossible."

* * *

Kurenai leans against her kitchen counter, a frown evident on her lips. Her belly juts out like a balloon about to pop and I know she'd very much like to. I know how it feels to be in those final days of pregnancy, sore and tired and just ready to break. Hoping for that water to break despite the pain that ensues. Wishing more than anything to finally hold that tiny baby in your arms, stroke their tiny cheek and caress their itty-bitty fingers...

I'm cast out of my daze when Kurenai sighs—nearly groans—so heavily, I fear it might just induce her. "I was due a week ago."

"Maybe Mirai knows... maybe she can sense the impending war... maybe she wants to stay in a bit longer and try and ride out the storm," I reply airily, frustration clear in my voice despite my attempts to remain calm.

Kurenai's eyes change quickly from ones depicting her own frustration to looking deep into my soul. I've always felt strange about that look she does, like she knows all. She's a brilliant genjutsu user but not even she can look into another's mind, a clan specialty reserved only for the Yamanaka. Her deep red eyes soften and she crosses the room in a waddle, closing the distance between us.

"I'm sorry," is all she says, but her eyes speak unspoken words nonetheless: I'm sorry about your husband. I'm sorry that you're stuck here because you're pregnant. "Hey," she mutters, lightly nudging me with as much of a smile as she can muster. "Your job in this is just as important as his. You're carrying his child, the most precious thing in the world to him. Whatever happens," more unspoken words... she tries to graze over it but her eyes deceive her. "Kakashi would want you and his children to be safe."

"I know that."

"Then act like it."

I groan, leaving her to fall into the couch. Akaya will be up from her nap soon. I may as well take advantage as much as I can and rest my feet. Too much pacing lately. Too much stress. Too much everything. I try not to sob and break down right here and now, rubbing circles on my belly.

"It's hard to sit here while he leads a division. While he walks head-on into a war he may never come back from," I whisper, words barely making it past my lips. With eyes downcast, I fidget with the hem of my sweatshirt.

A silence falls upon the room. After a minute, Akaya starts crying from the other room. I get up to attend to my daughter but stop in the doorframe when Kurenai says his name, "I'm carrying Asuma's child." I fail to see her reason for saying what she did but remain silent and still anyways, reading the room. Her voice isn't sad as one would expect, but full of resolve. "He always talked about King—in reference to Shoji. He said the most important thing was to protect the King."

"You know I've never played Shoji, Kurenai-" I start but she cuts me off.

"-The King is the most important piece in the game, the one you must protect at all costs. Every other piece exists only to protect it. Do you know who the King is, Ayame?" she says softly, bold eyes reading into me again.

I remain quiet, one hand clutching tightly to the doorframe—the only outward indication of my inner turmoil. Akaya whimpers from the other room.

"Your brother said the King is the children and The Future. Mirai is one of The Future. Akaya. And that child you're carrying," she nods to my belly.

However right she is, I still can't bring myself to turn around. Something warm slips down my cheek but I wipe it away faster than it came.

"Our children, they'll be cousins ya know."

I force one step in front of the other until I finally reach my daughter. In one fell swoop, I grab her from the crib and hold her tight. She stops crying immediately.

I look into her eyes and see her father in so many ways. She's every bit his daughter. A piece of him. His legacy. The Future, however foggy, will always have light where my children are concerned because they're my light in the dark. They're my happy at the end of each and every day.

From the other room, Kurenai yelps in both horror and glee, "Ayame, my water-"

I run to her and see a puddle on the floor beneath her. I smile at the woman as she looks at me in terror.

"I'm scared," she says.

I can't help but scoff. "Hypocrite," I mutter, smirking as I grab her hospital bag and drag her out the door, Akaya in one arm and her hand in the other.

* * *

Kurenai consoles her child while I leave her hospital room and head to the waiting area. When I get there, several faces perk up, waiting for good (or bad) news. I can so easily read the nervous excitement in all of their eyes except for my own husband's. He's still detached from our argument earlier, I can tell. I don't hold it against him, I know the coldness isn't personal. I know the burden he's carrying right now, heading into war as leader of an entire legion. All those lives resting on decisions he must make. ANBU captain is nothing compared to this.

"She's here, she's beautiful, and they're both doing great," I say with a quiet edge. I can see breaths of relief in Ino and Hinata and notice Shikamaru trying--and failing--to hide a soft smile. Choji cracks open another bag of barbeque chips, turning to food like he does in most situations, stressful or celebratory. This time might be both. It's a rollar-coaster of emotions having a baby, both for the mother and everyone around her. My hand subconsciously finds my stomach. My eyes catch my husband's single grey one and he slumps with a soft smirk. I breathe in soft contentment. "You can all go meet her, but the nurses said two at a time. And Kurenai needs to rest, so keep your visit short."

First to stand to their feet are Ino and Shikamaru, Choji too distracted with tearing through his bag of chips to notice his teammates disappear down the hallway and into Kurenai's room. He offers Hinata a chip but she kindly declines.

I take a seat next to my husband and for a few moments, we just sit beside each other in silence--or whatever 'silence' is left with Choji's adamant chomping. I watch sidelong as Kakashi rubs the palms of his hand with his thumbs. They look particularly red today. He must have spent a good deal of time scrubbing them after our argument.

Since we got married, he spent less and less time washing them in the mornings, partly because he decided to turn to me to vent rather than trying to wash away the pain and memories of Obito with soap and water, and partly because I complain about how long he spends in the bathroom getting ready because of that habit of his.

But today, his hands are once again covered in friction burns.

He sees me staring but pretends he doesn't notice. His single visible eye carries a far-off look, mind somewhere else entirely. I shouldn't ask, I shouldn't bother him when he's so far away in thought like this because it usually involves memories of his past that don't have anything to do with me. We've been over that before. He doesn't want me to worry about him. I know there's darkness in his past and he always does his best to separate this life from that one.

But when I look again at the friction burns on his hands, I can't help but reach for them with my own and hold them tenderly, examining the burns. His hands are warm to the touch as I graze the irritated skin carefully. I hear him let out a strained breath. "There's probably aloe or burn cream somewhere in this hospital," I offer with the utmost sensitivity, choosing my tone carefully. "I'll go see if I can find some-" but just as I'm starting to push out of my chair, a strong but gentle hand grips my arm.

"Stay," he says, voice revealing nothing of his inner turmoil, completely void of emotion. But not of meaning. I know my husband well enough to know he's relieved in this moment, some unknown burden lifted from him. My presence is what he desires right now, more even than a remedy for his burns. His grey eye softens and I sit back down, leaning on his shoulder. "Never leave me. I need you."

"I won't ever leave," is all I say, letting out a deep breath of my own.

"Me either," he whispers, another one of those comforting lies we tell each other. Because he is leaving. And worse than that, he may never come back.

The tears fall down my face as I squish my cheek into his shoulder. Just the steady rhythm of his breathing is enough to chase away all my fears.

* * *

It's the thought and memory of that steady breathing that gets me through the coming months. And the birth of my second child. Our second child. His and mine. But his child won't know his father yet. Maybe never. The thought makes vile rise in the back of my throat.

"If you die, I'll kill you," I'd told him when we bid farewell before the war.

That was another lie.

If he died, I'd die. Metaphorically, of course. My children need me. The grey-eyed, brown haired girl named after my mother and now the silver-haired, greyieyed mini clone of Kakashi named after his father. My children won't ever get the chance to know their grandparents but they can carry on their names and the memories that come with those names.

Akaya Sarutobi-Hatake.

Sakumo Sarutobi-Hatake.

The only true innocence left in this dark, bitter world. I wish more than anything that I could protect them from the darkness that inevitably reaches the hearts of every shinobi. But more realistically, I hope Akaya and Sakumo find their lights too, like I found mine.

I can only hope Kakashi comes home and gives our children the father neither of us had until it was too late. That he can be their light like he is mine.

* * *

A/N: Wowie. This story has gone on much longer than I originally intended but I'm honestly here for it. I've still got some good ideas for this story before I wrap it up. There's still one more story arc before the end... hehe. Sorry for the slow updates lately. Like I've said before, I have no plans of abandoning this story so don't worry!

On a side note though, I've started another story called "Father Figure" about time-travel and Naruto/Minato/Kushina. It's a bit of a fix-it, feel-good, angst fic. Check it out in the meantime if you're interested!

Thanks for the support, it seriously means so much. <3

- Rosa