Whumptober, Day 9 - Kakashi/Sakura

Prompt:Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated (presumed dead, (blind) rage, tears)
Fandom:Naruto
Characters:Kakashi/Sakura
Words:754
Author’s Note: This was requested by anonymous. I hope you see and enjoy it! (Story below the cut)

Angry streaks of lightning provided fitful light as rain rattled the window casement. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. Sakura curled on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon. A dull pain in her lower back warned that she hadn’t moved in hours, but she couldn’t bring herself to shift position. It felt like too much effort. She welcomed the storm, wondered if she could step into it and simply stop existing.

A sharp pang flared to life in Sakura’s chest, one that she’d grown intimately familiar with. She hadn’t known that heartache could be a physical sensation, that it would hurt with the same symptoms of a heart attack. Thick bands squeezed her lungs until drawing breath cost more than it supplied. It wasn’t until she hiccuped through another bout of tears that she realized she’d been crying, again.

Sakura had thought the tears would run out eventually, but her body seemed to find new reserves every day. She’d held it together through the funeral, through the carefully veiled apologies and offers of support, through the crass remarks from people who didn’t know. It hadn’t even been the picture of Team Seven that did her in when she got back to her apartment: it was the orange book lying on the table, a scrap of paper marking Kakashi’s place. She’d dashed it against the wall in a fury, then clutched it to her chest as the tears fell. Sakura hadn’t been sure they would stop.

For years, Sakura had dealt with grief as an abstract emotion, something she helped other people through. It was necessary in her line of work. She’d felt it before, of course, but not like this. Those instances were a puddle beside an ocean; the water closing over her head. She hadn’t been to work or left the apartment in over two weeks. Ino had brought food and a shoulder to cry on, and Naruto had tried his best to be optimistic, but Sakura shunned it. Tsunade had tried to shame her into honoring Kakashi’s memory by pushing through the grief. Sakura hadn’t answered the knocks since.

Thunder rattled the door in its frame, then came a second time. Sakura frowned at the sound, taking several heartbeats to realize that it was someone knocking. She wrapped her arms around her ears to shut the noise out. There was no one out there that she wanted to see, no one who could erase the pain of her loss. The sound stopped, only for the door to swing inward. Icy wind and rain swirled into the apartment and lightning silhouetted a figure in the door. Sakura’s lungs seized.

Kakashi limped into the room, silver hair slicked to his forehead by the damp. Sakura threw off the blanket and rose on shaky knees. “You’re dead.”

“Not quite,” Kakashi chuckled. “It turns out that rumors of my death have been greatly—”

Kakashi’s words died in a whoosh of air when Sakura punched him. The man curled forward in pain, but caught the second attack in his hand. Sakura’s open palmed slap staggered him to the side. Tears or rain blinded Sakura, but her hands connected with Kakashi’s armor and chest. A sob lodged in her throat. “I went to your funeral. I saw your name—”

Arms closed around Sakura, trapping her fists against Kakashi’s chest. The embrace made it hard to breathe, but somehow didn’t feel tight enough. “I’m sorry,” Kakashi murmured.

“You’re sorry?” Rage and relief fought a knife-edged battle in Sakura’s chest. “You’re fucking sorry?”

The grip around Sakura tightened, and Kakashi kicked the door shut behind him with one foot. “Yes,” Kakashi answered, releasing Sakura and taking a step back. “If I could have let you know sooner, I would have.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” Sakura growled, accenting every word with a sharp poke.

Kakashi winced and wrapped an arm around his middle. “Okay,” he agreed, sagging forward. “But, we should talk about it later. I’m pretty sure you reopened at least two of my wounds and added a few more.”

A flush heated Sakura’s face as she pulled Kakashi toward the couch. “It’s no less than you deserve,” she grumbled, but the heat had gone out of her words.

Lowering himself to the couch, Kakashi nodded. He closed his eyes and relaxed against the cushions, entire body going lax. Sakura smoothed her hand over his forehead and drew a deep breath in preparation for healing. It felt like the first one she’d taken in weeks.