Salvation (Kakashi x OC) (Standalone)

8.1

So I said, "Yeah," in lame solidarity.

"Try to rest up today and tomorrow. You're off tomorrow, right?" Amanda asked, and I nodded, my eyes locked on the time ticking away the seconds until I could punch out.

Only 14 more to go...

"That's good," Amanda nodded, her SC clipboard hovering under an arm. Casually, she tacked on, "Hey, you didn't have a fight with your boyfriend, did you?"

I nearly sputtered, despite there being no moisture inside my desert of a mouth. "What? I don't have a boyfriend."

"Hmm," Amanda considered me, narrowing her makeup-heavy eyes into that of a sinister raccoon—or, a raccoon. "Okay, okay. You just seemed a bit off today, so I wondered. Take it easy, yeah?"

I nodded, dashing in a desperate but polite manner out the automatic sliding doors to the far left side of the parking lot.

I didn't even cry on my fifteen minute drive back to my apartment. Dry-eyed, I just sat in a fog, my hands gripping the steering wheel of my new Jeep. The thing rode like a dream, compared to my older baby. It was clean on the inside and warmed up way faster than the Kia had.

It had all worked out, hadn't it? I felt my head shake, utterly perplexed at my own mind. How had yesterday ended in such disaster?

Kakashi hadn't returned by the time I'd cried myself to sleep, but he'd come home long enough to put me and the kittens into bed. Then, he'd vanished again.

I'd been alone in the apartment when I woke up today.

Just what was such a big deal about Kakashi stepping in yesterday? Why the heck did I react so repulsed by a heroic character's intrinsic need to help others? Kakashi had seen me struggle against the overbearing Mr. Benten, so he'd stepped in.

Why the heck did I react like that?

What is wrong with me?

Sullenly, I sat in my quiet car under the parking stand, just waiting for my body to open that door and make the short walk home.

My mind warred with itself. What if he isn't inside?

What if he is?

Which would be better?

"Okay, Gracie," I said, opening the Jeep Patriot's maroon door in one decisive motion. "As soon as you see him, apologize. Just apologize. No excuses, no pleading insanity. Just say it."

The late-summer evening was particularly still as I walked down the blacktop to my quad-apartment building. None of the neighbor kids were out—from either the taller set of cheaper condos, nor from the dark brown-brick building with our laundry basement. The tenants in the other three apartments from my little single-layer didn't have any kids.

I'd lucked out there.

The breeze was gentle and cool, like a sweet kiss poolside under the baking heat. Each of the sun's orange rays dipped ever closer to the horizon, lowering quicker and quicker with each passing day. Now, the yolk-like vibrancy filtered through the leafy-green trees that dotted the street on either end of the driveway.

It only took one try to place my key in the brand-new lock. The door's pale blue shine was almost too hard to look at head-on, even though the sun wasn't directly hitting it. The thing was too flashy for me.

I was tempted to mess it up a little.

Pushing the silent thing open, I immediately recognized the spiky-headed figure sitting on the couch. Hable and Sintar moved across his legs, their little paws growing stronger and stronger every day. With the awkward angle, Kakashi's legs were like mountains for them. It was too difficult for their little bodies to take.