literature

Psychotic Break

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Literature Text

If he didn't go back to his usual self in 14 days he would get thrown out. They would take away his mask, hos comrades, his captain, his home, despite everything he had done for the ANBU ever since he arrived there as a kid.
They would take away his identity, his friends, his miserable life that he clung on to, so desperately.

Yet, he couldn't run away. The tiny amount of sleep he had gotten the latest months were far away from enough. The illusions, the nightmares made him paralyzed.
Disgusting, staring, yellowed eyes framed by the purple and the black… Orochimaru. He was everywhere. Flashbacks from his and Kabuto's experiments made the brightest day feel dark and gray, his favorite food taste like sand and dust, the greenest leaf look dry and brittle.

Sometimes he could even remember the surgical tools. The pipettes and the scalpels. The dim light from the candles, the humid air and the smell of dirt mixed with something rotten.
Memories that made him fall down on his knees in shock and vomit, crampe.

One day the captain was there.
Kakashi found him sitting on the floor with his knees pressed up against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs, slowly wobbling back and forth while he stared into the wall.
It took half an hour to calm him down, which included a whole teapot with herbal tea, a blanket, a couch and a mild voice that spoke to him regularly.

When he was fairly back to his senses he run his hands through the thick, brown curls and murmured something similar to a thank you.

Kakashi didn't answer from a start. He looked up on the roof and sighed, waited a few minutes before he answered.

"This may not be the safe words with comfort that you need, but it's the truth. They can't throw you out. They need you in the ANBU, they need your ability. You can track, you can fight and you're smarter than our whole team. They can't throw you out Tenzou, we need you here."

Words rung in his head, again and again and again. I'm just a copy, I'm just a copy… I'm not the real Hashirama, we're barely related. I'm just a cheap fucking copy of him. How did I get here in the first place? They're using me. I guess it doesn't matter. I have nothing to live for anyway.

"I don't have an identity, I'm just a copy of the real Hashirama. I shouldn't exist. I shouldn't be here. Just a copy…"

A hand gripped his right wrist and pressed it harshly. An ice cold look stared at him from the mismatched eyes, it made his body freeze in his exact position.

"No. Now you listen to me. You're not a copy, you're Tenzou. You have a name, a personality, a home, a talent and comrades that cares about you. You're related to the legendary Hashirama, the first Hokage, you could call him your great great granddad if you'd want to, his strong powers have been passed on to you. They're yours now. You were placed in the ANBU because of your skill, you were placed in my team because we work so well together - no one can beat us when we're paired up. You put everyone you love before everyhing else, you'd die for the village if so was the case. Your heart is bigger than the previous kages. You are strong Tenzou! You'll just have to find that out yourself."

As if his speech had taken all of his energy, Kakashi tiredly released the grip of his comrade's wrist and stood up. He took one step forward but repented and turned around.

Tenzou felt how soft, fabric covered lips pressed against his forehead.
A second later, the captain disappeared.

So taken by surprise from their earlier talk, he couldn't do anything but stare into the cold white wall in front of him.
He lifted his hand and let the top of his fingers slightly touch where the thin fabric of the blue mask earlier had been. Still a little damp.

From that moment, something warm and alive started to grew in his stomach,

And Kakashi continued to visit. Every day from that on. He found his comrade in shock only one more time, but not as harsh as the earlier attack had been. They stayed up late, talked about missions, life, death, their team. About people, dreams, uncertainty, safety, beliefs. About peace.
He fell asleep on his comrades shoulder twice. He laughed at their bad jokes, he learned how to play shogi…
He started to slowly gain strength and hope again.
He got to know himself. He knew what he liked and did not like, he knew how much he treasured comrades and the village.

And Kakashi was always there, on his side, watched him grow strong and certain.

At day 10 he erased the memory of snake eyes, scalpels and dirt.
At day 11 he held his senpai's hand.
At day 12 he was back on the front line, ready for showing who he really was.
He was Tenzou.

And he would forever remember how it felt to have something as wild and free as love growing in his stomach, when he stood on his captain's side. They were unstoppable. They were the truth.
Prompt: Yamato's suffering a psychotic break from bad memories of Kabuto+Orochimaru, Kakashi visits him every day.
Wrote it on Tumblr, decided to upload it here too. Became a little longer than I thought it would... Yea.
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All the characters (c) Kishi the man.
© 2013 - 2024 Ghaarie
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LouAronShinobi's avatar
This is beautiful <3 It made me cry a little. I feel sorry for Tenzou with his past :( I don't know why but I love him to bits! Please keep on writing :D!