we don't age like wine

@copycanine / copycanine.tumblr.com

I’ve lived long enough to see some good friends die; It’s a dangerous time to be a friend of mine.
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hey! i don’t know if anyone active still follows me here but i may remake this blog into more of a casual/silly ic style blog so... keep tuned ig?

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"…I suppose so," he says at length, staring a little dumbly at Kakashi. This was the time where he was supposed to ask him, wasn’t he? What was he waiting for?
Lazy bastard.
"Well?" 

"Maybe, well-- maybe... you..." He's shockingly at a loss for words. While he never spoke much, a conglomerate of stuttering, hasty additions, and unintentional pauses weren't exactly common in his speech.

"Maybe I could be your valentine. And, well-- you know, you could be mine, of course."

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"No, I specifically said it was not, therefore it isn’t. I don’t know what you are going to do. That’s why I said we needed to chat." It really wasn’t an interrogation room. Interrogation rooms were nothing but small fry compared to it.
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"I suppose I can go along. You have to promise not to cause any bodily injury to me. If you break that promise, I will have to hurt you back."

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Piano fingers played an off-beat song on the wooden desk, tapping a melody to accompany the song of his thoughts. Leading a village, he imagined, was like being orchestrator to an ensemble. Even the smallest of wrong decisions could cause the rest of the accompaniment to go sour.

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"I'll see what we can do to assist... With respect, I'm afraid it may not be in the best interest of Konohagakure," he tread carefully, for even artistic conflict could cause a war.

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He’s been picking at his food for the better part of dinner, pushing around the rice into patterns and lumps on the plate. Quieter than usual, eyes downcast, his lack of chatter makes the silence seem more daunting than it should be. “The health board is petitioning to take Mizuki off life support,” he says at last, because he’s poor at hiding things like this and it’s a weight he’s found to be too heavy to bear on his own. “It’ll probably go through.” 

When Kakashi's shoulders got weak under the pressure of the world, Iruka always lent his strength until the weakened spine could straighten. He always tried to return Iruka's infinite kindness, but opportunities were meager, and Kakashi was wholly thankful for that. Not for preservation of his own laze, perhaps to the surprise of some, but because that meant Iruka could stand independently. He rarely needed to bear the humiliation of secondhand support. Unfortunately, even the strongest of knees buckle when the hammer hits them just right.

"You know," he begins, eyes drifting up from his dinner in vast sincerity. He thought of Lord Third chasing after Orochimaru, and although stakes weren't so high, the concern stuck with him. "When one is so far knocked off the path of life, and they give up-- like Mizuki-- there's little hope for them to crawl back onto it. They're already gone. The Mizuki you knew has been dead for quite some time," His words are bitter, he knows, but he can't watch Iruka mourn a ghost's death. 

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"We need to talk about your... intentions towards Iruka. Come, step into my very special, just for you, soundproof, not-an-interrogation, room."

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"That's an interrogation room."

"What do you think I'm going to do, exactly, Morino?"

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