Content warning: Self Harm, depression, yandere-esque behavior

Lee's hands shook as he slowly peeled the apple. He had to adjust his grip several times, and the poor fruit ended up looking very lumpy, but he managed it in the end. With a self satisfied smile, he added it to a bowl full of similarly ugly fruit. He took a moment to stretch his fingers as Shizune-sensei had instructed him. Although his surgery was a miraculous success, he still had to be mindful of his limits. Guy-sensei made it quite clear that he was to do exactly as Shizune-sensei said or else risk never being a shinobi again. Every day he spent in casts and crutches made him increasingly anxious over all the training he missed, but he did his best the bury his restlessness. Yes, he was losing hard earned strength and muscle mass, but his body could only heal properly while at rest.

At the very least, he could peel apples for his friend.

He turned to look at her where she lay on the hospital bed. The stark white sheet was pulled up to her chin and Lee took the liberty of laying a slightly wrinkled handkerchief across the bottom half of her face. Her eyes were closed, thick dark lashes unmoved by dreams. Her pale skin seemed paper thin and her freckles were washed out under the harsh lights overhead. Her dark hair spilled across the understuffed pillow, curls lying flat and lifeless around her head.

If not for the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, one might think her a corpse.

Lee shook his head vigorously to banish that unholy thought from his mind. She was alive. She got hurt very badly, but she was alive and would get better soon.

He clenched his fist, trying not to be disheartened by his weakened grip strength. They would walk the road of recovery together. She always encouraged him, even when she learned he could not use chakra. Now, it was his turn to cheer her on! There was no reason she could not be a ninja. The nurse who whispered among themselves of the tragic end to her career would all be proven wrong!

After all, Naruto said she could use one handed jutsus! Clearly, she had anticipated injuries to her hands.

Of course, she likely never thought they would be permanent...

Le sighed and resumed his self assigned task. Although she showed no signs of waking, his dear friend would undoubtedly be hungry when she did. He made sure to peel only the best looking apples for her, the repetitive motions doubling as a dexterity exercise for his bandaged fingers. Sure, peeling them like this made it almost impossible to keep them over night, but he wanted to be ready. Just in case.

A gentle, almost hesitant knock broke his concentration and he sucked in a harsh breath as his knife cut through his bandages and into the sensitive flesh of his healing hand. He instinctively brought the superficial wound to his mouth as he turned to look at the person who knocked and froze.

He knew that red hair. He doubted he would ever forget it.

Phantom pains ran through his limbs as he met the pale green eyes of Gaara, his final opponent in the Chunin Exams. The knife in his hand was not built for combat and he knew, even if he were armed, there was nothing he could to against Gaara now.

Nothing he could do against him then, either.

The redheaded boy seemed just as surprised to see Lee, his pale eyes widening before looking down at the floor, his forward momentum stolen in an instant. Behind him, Anbu guards stood stoic and cold in their dark armor and white masks. Not for the first time, Lee was reminded that the person in the doorway was incredibly dangerous and he was lucky to have survived their fight at all. He very nearly did not. If Guy-sensei had not intervened...

"You have ten minutes," one of the Anbu said curtly.

The words seemed to spur Gaara into action. He entered the room with soundless steps, the door closing behind him. Lee watched with tense shoulders as the other boy shuffled forward, unsure of whether or not to put himself between his final opponent and his dearest friend. She would do it for him, were their positions reversed, but he could not yet stand without assistance. He searched Gaara's face for any signs of aggression, ready to call out to the Anbu outside at the slightest hint of danger.

Gaara did not react to the weight of Lee's gaze. Instead, his intense green eyes were focused on the sleeping Hanako. His hands clenched and unclenched into fists by his sides, and Lee felt his hackles rise in anticipation of violence.

"I'm sorry."

Lee shut his mouth with an audible click, his unvoiced shout for help dying in his throat. He stared at Gaara, unsure if he heard that or imagined it. The redhead had yet to look at him, but his chin was tilted toward him ever so slightly. His gaze remained on Hanako's half covered face, unblinking.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, voice low and hoarse. "I shouldn't have done that to you. Exams aside, I crossed a line."

It was only once those pale eyes turned to look at him that Lee realized he was staring. He cleared his throat and set the half peeled apple and knife down.

"Yes, well," he stammered. "Thank you?"

Gaara nodded. He looked so much smaller without the gourd of sand on his back. The dark circles around his eyes were somehow darker than before and he looked so weary as he watched Hanako breathe. With a start, Lee remembered that Gaara had not only been part of the team sent to rescue her from her nefarious kidnappers, but he was also the one who brought her back in time to save her life. Lee scrambled to his feet, leaning heavily on his crutch as he bowed as low as he could without upsetting his delicate center of gravity.

"Thank you very much for bringing her back!" Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about what might have happened if Gaara had not been there. He knew from personal experience that Gaara was easily the fastest genin currently in the village—both of their villages! Since only genin were sent to rescue Hanako, he was the only one who could have done it. "I will forever be in your debt for rescuing my most dearest of friends! I would never have forgiven myself if anything had befallen her while I was unable to assist!"

When Gaara spoke, his soft tone was almost overwhelmed by Lee's increasingly noisy sobs. "I didn't do it for you."

"Yes," Lee said with a vigorous nod that dislodged even more tears. "I know, but I still must—!"

"I didn't do it for her, either." The words were little more than a whisper but Lee bit his tongue all the same. "I did it for me."

Lee straightened and found himself the recipient of Gaara's full attention. The corners of his mouth were turned down and his hairless brows furrowed over troubled eyes. This was not the malicious beast who had nearly ended Lee's shinobi career. No, this was boy his own age. A boy who was clearly distraught.

"I didn't want to lose her," he continued. "I wanted to bring her back and keep her for myself, but...she wouldn't like that, would she?"

Lee leaned on his crutch, unsure how to respond to Gaara's confession. That he cared for Hanako was obvious. If he didn't, he would never have rescued her. However, he was also obviously conflicted over the nature of his affection. Guy-sensei was much more qualified to advise him on such things, but Lee knew Gaara did not have the time to wait. Lee hesitated before speaking, swallowing around a lump in his throat as he floundered for the right words.

"I do not think it is strange to want to keep your friends to yourself," he said slowly. "It has been some time since I had the opportunity to spend any quality time with my dear friend Hanako and I do find myself saddened when I think about how much time she is spending with others. When she was taken, I was also afraid. I also wanted to rush to her rescue, to assure her that she was safe and that I care. In that sense, I do not think your feelings are wrong or strange. However," Lee closed his hand into a fist, the motion ever so slightly painful but the best way of expressing his rising determination. "I think it is also important to remember that our friends are individuals with their own lives. When she is with me, our lives intersect for that moment in time, and when she is not, I can be content with memories of the past and promises for the future. I am not the only one who cares for her, nor am I the only one she cares for. Although it can be frustrating to share her affections, she must also share mine."

Gaara did not seem to understand.

"She is the only one," he said lowly. "I have no one else."

Lee hummed in understanding, recalling one of Guy-sensei's many lectures on the value of healthy friendships. "I see. That would make it harder to share. May I suggest a course of action, as one of Hanako's friends to another?"

Gaara opened his mouth to respond, but the door to Hanako's hospital room opened. An Anbu leaned in.

"Time's up."

It was subtle, but Gaara's shoulders slumped with defeat. He turned to cast one last forlorn glance at the still sleeping Hanako before turning to leave without protest.

"Wait!" Lee did not shrink beneath the heavy gaze of the masked shinobi. "Gaara, if you are truly troubled by the nature of your affection for Hanako, then you should find other people to accept into your life. No one ever suffered from having more than one friend!"

Gaara looked at him over his shoulder, the tiniest smile playing about his lips. "Thank you."

Then he left.

Lee was alone with Hanako again. He carefully sat back in his chair and leaned his crutch against the wall with a sigh. He was uncertain whether his advice would help Gaara, but he was glad he was able to give it. At the very least, he had a better understanding of his one time opponent. Perhaps, with time, they could call each other friends.

He reached out and took Hanako's one hand in his, taking comfort in the warmth of her skin. "I hope you awaken soon, my friend. There are many people anxiously awaiting you."

The first time it happened, he dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. How long had he spent dreaming of such a thing? Then it happened a second time and then a third and he was forced to accept reality.

Hanako's hand had moved.

He tightened his grip, leaning forward to look at her half covered face. Her lashes twitched as her eyes moved beneath her eyelids and her breathing picked up pace, disturbing the handkerchief Lee laid across her mouth and nose. Tears of joy filled his eyes as he watched. His dear friend was waking up!

🐶🐶🐶

Kakashi hurried down the hall, his nearly silent footsteps accompanied by the clicking of little doggy claws. No one even bat an eye at his furry attendants. Sure, they weren't the most sanitary of body guards, but the people of Konoha were well accustomed to seeing dogs in places dogs shouldn't be. Even if the hospital staff had an issue with Pakkun and Momiji, one look at him and they swallowed their complaints.

It was one of the few perks of his new job.

He sighed for what felt like the millionth time. Hokage. Him. Two things that never should have overlapped. And yet. If only his sensei could see him now. Or Obito. He was probably rolling in his grave at the thought of Bakashi taking the hat from him.

Little did his dead friend know, he would give it up in a heartbeat if it meant their team could be together again.

He dismissed the habitual thought as he approached his daughter's room. He finally had the opportunity to see her after wading through mountains of paperwork and he didn't want to spend it in a depressed haze. Too much of his time with her had been spent like that.

Granted, she wasn't much better, but that made the guilt in his heart even heavier. She was a kid who'd suffered too much too young, and he was an adult. He should have done more to make sure she was happy and cared for. Maybe then, she wouldn't be running around behind everyone's backs. He understood the distrust a shinobi could harbor toward their superiors, but he never thought he would ever be included in that. Not like this, not by his kid.

He turned one final corner and was pulled abruptly from his musings as nurses rushed past him.

"Huh, I wonder what's going on?"

He looked down at Pakkun and Momiji, the little dogs exchanging a glance laden with meaning his human eyes couldn't understand.

"Let's hope it isn't something we need to be concerned about," his kid's first summon said in that haughty way of hers. "I'm anxious to return to the Princess' side."

Weren't they all?

As if summoned by Momiji's words, Guy's little mini-Guy manifested as if from thin air, his large eyes overflowing with tears. He leaned on a crutch, his bandaged hands covered in blood.

His kid's blood.

The nauseatingly familiar scent cut through the acrid stench of antiseptic and illness that clung to the hospital walls. Kakashi's eyes locked in on the rusty stains and his heart stuttered in his throat. The boy seemed to sense his attention. He looked up and his weepy face crumpled even further.

"S-s-s-sensei~."

Kakashi crossed the distance between them in no time at all. He placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, steadying the injured child. "What happened?"

Not for the first time, he found himself thanking the Sage that Guy never gave up on him. It was only his many years of deciphering his self proclaimed rival's weepy declarations that allowed him to understand the child as he choked on his own tears.

"M-my dear fr-fr-friend Hanako," he managed to force out. "She-she's hurting herself."

That was all Kakashi needed to hear. Leaving the child behind with a callousness that would definitely get him scolded by Guy, he shunshined his way through the crowd of nurses and into the room that must belong to his kid. When they realized he was there, they became visibly torn between telling him off for interfering in their work and deferring to their Kage.

"Where's my kid?"

Deference won. An older nurse walked up to him and saluted. "She's in the restroom, Hokage-sama. She's managed to place a seal on the door and lock us all out."

What? How? She shouldn't have access to any tools or weapons.

"It seems the storage seal tattooed into her skin is no longer inactive," the nurse continued, tone low and urgent. "Her young friend pressed the call button, but we haven't been able to properly assess the situation. All we know is she seems to be a threat to herself at the moment."

A hole opened up in his gut. "Let me through."

The nurses stepped aside and let him approach the bathroom door. He raised his hand. The sound of his knuckles against the door echoed in the empty expanse of his skull.

"Kiddo," he said roughly. He couldn't even summon the power to layer on the false cheer that had become almost second nature to him. "It's me. Can I come in?"

He channeled chakra to his ear and pressed it against the door. The sound of choking sobs broke his heart, but he still sighed in relief. At least she hadn't blocked out sound. That would have made things very difficult.

"Come on, kiddo, let me in." He looked at the nurses and pointed at the open door with his chin. "It's just me out here."

They took the hint. In a few seconds, his lie became a truth and he could give the child behind the door his undivided attention.

Like he already should have.

"Hanako," he sighed. "Please. Let me in. I'm sorry I haven't been around, but I'm here now. I want to be here, with you, but you have to let me in."

He was rambling, but he had to fill the silence before it swallowed him whole. He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. Even if she did let him in, what could he do? Anything he told her would be hypocritical. He was hardly the pinnacle of mental health, himself, and depressive episodes were sort of his trademark. How often had he thrown himself into missions far above his level in the hopes that he wouldn't make it home? How many times had he taken unnecessary risks just to lessen his odds of survival?

There was nothing he could say, except...

"I'll wait right here. When you're ready to let me in, I'll be here, ok?"

That's what Guy did for him. The crazy idiot spent decades waiting for Kakashi to pull his head out of his ass, after all. He still hadn't quite managed it, but the certainty of knowing that someone was there for him was a comfort now that he was mature enough to admit it. If his kid needed to wallow in extremes for a while, he'd wait.

Thinking back to the start of his downward spiral, he let himself reinhabit that low mental space.

"I'm proud of you," he said roughly. "You've done a lot for the village, even though I don't really understand how you did most of it. I know people are going to be upset with me, but I don't really care, either. The ends have always justified the means for us shinobi and I won't bury it under sappy talk of honor or pride in the village. We're all savages." He took a long, shaky breath. "I...I won't pretend it doesn't upset me to see you following the same path I did. You were always different from the rest of us. It was like you came from another world, a world where good still thrived. I hate to think you've lost that, that I helped take it from you."

What was he doing? He was pouring his heart out to a door. She probably couldn't even hear him.

How did Guy do it? The Hatake were clearly a Clan of brick walls. It took a special kind of person to keep talking until their target remembered they had ears. He really needed to give his rival a gift for being so persistent.

A soft click reinvigorated him. Was that...?

It was! The door was opening!

If he had a tail, it would be wagging.

He waited with bated breath as the door swung slowly inward. His kid stood in the doorway, her head hanging low and her face obscured by her dark hair. She was wearing a plain white hospital gown, its stiff fabric streaked with drying blood. She kept her one hand tucked behind her back. He gave the restroom behind her a quick once over. The mirror had shattered and blood had spattered across the shards and into the sink. It looked like she'd tried to clean it up, but the white porcelain was stained a distinct shade of pink.

His fists clenched at his sides. Did he touch her? Would she like that? Was there a line he couldn't cross? It had been a long time since he last felt so out of his depth. Before everything started falling apart, he thought he had a pretty good handle on the whole 'parent' thing. At least, neither of the children he called his own ever complained. Now, though, he had no choice but to admit he still had no idea what he was doing. He didn't have the liberty to learn from his failures, either. His kid needed the best, and she needed it now.

He never should have taken her. Her life would have been so much better with literally anyone else. All he would ever do for her was make things worse.

She sniffled. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Slowly, he sank to his knees in front of her. Her shoulders flinched when he took them in his hands, but he managed to maintain his gentle grip. The scent of her blood and tears triggered every protective instinct in him and he reached out to softly envelope her in a layer of his chakra. She didn't respond and true panic began to rise in him. She had never rejected him like this, before.