Emotionless || Kakashi x OC

The Funeral

<Mika POV>

I stood among the mourners at Jiraiya's funeral, surrounded by somber faces and heavy hearts. The atmosphere is filled with a profound sense of loss as the ninja world bids farewell to the legendary Sannin.

I stand at a distance, watching as friends and comrades pay their respects, their shared grief thick in the air.

As the words honoring Jiraiya's legacy echo through the air, my eyes blur with tears I never intended to shed. Regret and sorrow intertwine, my guarded facade slowly crumbling amidst the weight of his absence.

In the midst of my struggle, Kakashi approaches, his presence a quiet reassurance in this sea of grief. He stands beside me, a pillar of silent support, understanding the depth of my emotions without a word exchanged.

He speaks softly so that only I can hear him. "Mika. It's okay to feel this way."

His words reach through the walls I've built, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, I allow myself to lean into the vulnerability. Tears, an unwelcome companion until now, escape my eyes, tracing the paths down my cheeks.

Kakashi's hand rests gently on my shoulder, a gesture so simple yet profoundly comforting. His understanding touch conveys more than words ever could, offering solace in a moment of shared grief.

The weight of Jiraiya's absence lingers as the funeral concludes, leaving behind sadness in the air. Kakashi's understanding presence beside me has been a balm amid the emotional turmoil, a silent acknowledgment of our shared grief.

As we depart from the funeral grounds, Kakashi suggests going out to eat, a simple yet thoughtful gesture in the aftermath of the event. I find myself to be grateful to be near him. He had been my breath of fresh air in this storm.

We ran into Naruto and Iruka, they decided to join us as Naruto needed to take his mind off of things.

As we sat down at a table the others started a conversation, sharing their memories and stories about Jiraiya.

Try as I might, I couldn't contribute much to the conversation. The loss of Jiraiya lingered in my thoughts, clouding my ability to engage fully. I could feel a pair of eyes rest on me. I lifted my gaze up to meet Kakashi's.

His gaze, filled with concern and understanding, flickered towards me, acknowledging my subdued state. Despite my attempts to mask my feelings, Kakashi saw through the facade I desperately tried to maintain.

In response to his silent concern, I offered a small, appreciative smile, but the weight of grief made it hard to engage as I wished. Kakashi's unspoken empathy was a quiet reassurance, a subtle understanding that it was okay not to feel alright, even among friends.

While Naruto and Iruka continued their lively conversation, his unspoken comfort was a lifeline, allowing me to navigate the waves of sadness in my own time, amidst the warmth of friends.

As the food arrived at our table, beautifully plated and steaming with tempting aromas, I realized that my appetite seemed to have vanished amidst the emotional weight of the day. Despite the delicious scent wafting from the dish in front of me, the heaviness in my chest suppressed any desire to eat.

I glanced down at the meal, its presentation vibrant and appealing, yet my usual hunger was absent. The flavorful aroma failed to give me the usual anticipation or stir any temptation to eat.