(no subject)

[disillude.livejournal.com]

[ Every now and then, Kakashi wonders if he'll ever get tired of this pattern he seems to have fallen into.

Part of him is pretty sure he's already tired of it, and that's not really a surprise, considering it's always the same shit, different day, different face, different name. The places and the people change, but the events that occur and unfold are essentially the same, and how he's surprised by anything anymore is really beyond him.

But it's not in his nature to be a pessimistic person, just as it isn't in his nature to be excessively optimistic. He's realistic and level-headed (with a fuckton of issues buried underneath the surface, clawing at his insides like toxic waste, but he's not going to get into that), and he knows how to handle himself in most situations, knows how to deal with shit when nothing goes as planned, when awful things start happening and all the control he had slips from between his fingers.

Right. He's got it. Check.

Kakashi breathes, shaking his hands out as he enters the village through the giant, imposing gate, sliding a kunai back into the belt at his waist. It's dusk, and most of the citizens of Konoha have already turned in for the night. There's a few stragglers, a woman outside her home shaking a rug out, a man leading a child away by the wrist. Kakashi himself is on his way back home after spending the majority of the day outside the bounds of the village, not really doing anything in particular, just -- thinking.

He needs time to think, sometimes. ]