Jinchūriki 人柱力; "Power of Human Sacrifice"
AU Rin Nohara blog where she survived and remained the jinchuuriki of Isobu. | 30 | medic |
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Send “I’d die for you.” for my character’s reaction.
“—You can’t,” Kakashi’s voice was strained and wavering, both young and old, hefting the weariness of a man twice his age. “What purpose would your life ending serve me, Rin? I made a promise—” he paused, adjusting his arm guards (anbu guards that fit far too largely along his ill-fit frame) as he watched her. Rin lived beyond her fateful rescue, and her ill-fated decision to save Konoha on the razor edge of his Raikiri.
She stood as beautiful, as aching, as loving as he had the day Obito breathed his last in some impossible miracle Kakashi still could not fathom. He hated how his heart dropped with the sight of her waning smile, how the resonate sadness within the pit of her chestnut eyes turned his stomach, and set remorseful burn in his heart. Perhaps it was with those fresh bandages and the way her delicate fingers curled against her chest that made him ache, the iridescent glow of her pale skin against the dim light that made her seem almost unreal.
Ghostly.
“Kakashi—”
“I made a promise that I would protect you, Rin. No matter the cost. I can’t allow you to die,” especially not for my sake, “I stake my life on it.”
sonofwhitefang-a-blog said:
He was at once fearful, tense, and at peace with her utter invasion of his personal space. Kakashi was a contradiction illuminated by the moon and the low, guttering flame of their camp fire. Rin's words were almost nostalgic, reminding him of the endless field's of their youth when war waged and ravaged the outlying lands of their home with destruction. Only they were together. Kakashi eased into her hold, his lone eye softening with the familiar waft of her scent. "Just another nightmare."
Nightmares. Rin didn’t need to ask what, the content wasn’t important really, not so much as one’s state of mind.
She’d had her fair share, all of their generation had, the trauma of the war having touched everyone in its own way. Their way of life was all about power and peace coming with a price, and its currency was blood and the invisible wounds that resided in one’s psyche and mind.
“I know.” was all she said when she felt him finally relax, a quiet murmur barely heard over the crackling of the dying fire.
sonofwhitefang-a-blog said:
Kakashi just wanted to see her, wanted to hear her voice--it was enough to stave the memory of that day when he'd broken her with the force of his Raikiri. Her gasps in the throes of his most intense nightmares were often too much, as was the fleeting warmth of phantom blood pouring over his hands. Kakashi drew close and lowered his head as he willed the memories away, contended to be at her side. She was safe. "--It's nothing." he replied softly, "go back to sleep."
Even if it weren’t for her sharp, observation skills, honed from years of being a medic and dealing with stubborn shinobi who hid their wounds - the attention she’d paid to Kakashi’s mannerisms in the days of her girlhood crush in order to try and get to get to know him better paid off these days since he was just as reticent as an adult, if not more.
“You don’t need to pretend.” she murmured, pulling him into a light hug. “I wasn’t asleep, you should’ve been able to tell that from my breathing.”
In that moment they weren’t Konoha’s second jinchuuriki or the famed copy ninja. Just two people haunted by their own individual and shared ghosts.
sonofwhitefang-a-blog said:
"--Rin?" It was late. He knew it was late--and yet he still couldn't bear to turn away from her, the prospect of sleep far too distant an idea to consider.
It had been a long night, sleep eluding her though she’d done her best to clear her mind and even Isobu did not stir, perhaps sensing his jinchuuriki’s need for solemnity.
“…Kakashi?”
Her hand closed over his, gently squeezing the fingers that she knew felt all too bloodstained sometimes. Rin knew this because she felt the same.
They’d both seen war as children and been irrevocably altered for it.
Much as she’d never wish pain on another person, there was something comforting about shared grief. Knowing that you weren’t the only one carrying those invisible scars. A burden that weighed heavily even now so many years later, the pain of loss feeling just as fresh especially on certain days.
Coping with grief was something that everyone handled differently. For Rin, her behaviour was somewhat ritualistic on certain anniversaries.
