The hospital was rather silent, not many people were loitering around the lobby and those that did were obviously running off the bitter tang of coffee rather then their own energy. A black eye hardly gave them a glance, none of them were happy and all of them were waiting for news, it was familiar enough a scene that Kakashi barely registered their existence. Instead, his focus turned fast to the sharp contrast bold blond hair made in the sombre atmosphere. Naruto was sat upon a wheelchair, his back straight, limbs relaxed, the hospital gown he wore so lose upon his figure that one side was falling off his shoulder but he didn't move to pull it back; it was only a second that he wondered why, then his body flinched in the remembrance, comprehension setting firm into his head that he couldn't, Naruto would need to move his charred arm to do so. His muscles tensed in approach, not for the depressing understanding, but rather that his student's head was tilted eversoslightly back, the scar along his jawline so plain when emphasized by the lighting of the room. He didn't have an expression, his face was all but slack, blue eyes speaking nothing attempting to stare down at his own knee.

There was a rattle in his head while striding forward, not a voice echoing, not the last threads of a song, it was too faint to distinguish, though its melody -even near unintelligible- was provoking a small part of his fighting response, nagging at his offensive side as if begging for a killing blow. He pushed his focus forward, catching and as he approached it was plain that Naruto had taken notice, the bleak -forgotten- stare he had been holding melted away into a smile and the greeting of the blond's full attention on himself. "Hey Kakashi-sensei! Ah... sorry you had to come get me, but I'm really not good with this stupid chair-thing ya know?" His good arm scratched at the back of his neck as if it were any other day, and that made something macabre pour down Kakashi's spine in a liquid chill. Still, the jonin planted a smile on his face, just as if it was a normal day and they were simply greeting each other. A part of him wished to speak in some type of comfort, but he knew how feeble it would sound, and how insulting it would seem unto his student -former, a voice spoke soft in his head.- Thus he gave a casual smile, not forced for his want to appear normal for the wounded man, a piteous look would be the worst option.

Normalcy was the best option, and in all his knowledge, he retained himself- holding steady and keeping upon him his normal calm smile in place. It prickled at him to do, a numbing sensation grating at the fibres of his skin. Hesitation in his facade would destabilize what synchronicity the blond had made with himself presently- were that temporary denial or a smidge of acceptance- disturb his mindset; of that Kakashi knew all too well. Trauma was a foe none knew how to truly battle, and commonly despite training in mental management, many more shinobi were lost to its chokehold than most civilians -or even genin- understood. Naruto was twice damned in this regard, a fact the jounin knew, yet had allowed himself to mostly ignore throughout the years. With how the village treated him throughout adolescence, scorn, mistreatment, -and yes, even the occasional attack; Naruto had probably been battling PTSD priour to being put on Team 7. Last night, the Hatake had confronted the fact that the young Yamanaka's assessment was accurate. Presently, Kakashi doubted Uzumaki Naruto truly grasped his situation, the damage infracted, for all the teenager's brightened optimism- he could be extensively naive.

"Yo Naruto, ah no worries- the butterfly I was helping ended up bringing me here anyway." It wasn't much, there was no declaration of his own false claims or an annoyed expression, as had always followed his idiotic excuses. There was a small chuckle, however, just a little sound that ended with a relaxed smile and a warm gaze. Kakashi allowed himself to breathe just a slight more, that small fraction of air he had been holding captive in his lungs since entering through the doors releasing for the relaxation of his anxiety. Though he wasn't truly certain if it was the response he had wanted to hear, it was what he had the want to accept for it was not negative.

It was with heavy step however, that he went behind the wheelchair to push; he had done so previously for others, in a show of good comradeship, but that had been a rare thing. As it were with Naruto he knew it would be a commonality, least until he can grasp the concept, even then it will prove a further challenge then it might be for others; as he only had one arm to operate with. Kakashi can only hope that there may be a solution unto that, one which the blond will resolutely search for with fervent abandon as was his way. Even so, the jounin was conflicted over the circumstances, because although Naruto was not a dumb teen, nor inept as many would claim, but he could be considerably oblivious when it came to boundaries; worryingly, Kakashi knew that the blond may fight for the unaccomplishable, be that regaining use of his dead arm, or trying to re-establish himself as a shinobi, the young Yamanaka's words echoing loud and sending cold twinges in random places all over his body. It was inadvertent, but he found himself staring down at the head of bright hair below him, he did not know precisely how to handle caring for Naruto- and he was under no illusions, his former student was under his care as of now.

He breathed deeply, as best he could, staying quiet so that Naruto wouldn't hear, because in the mental state the teen was in, Kakashi knew he would take it wrong- feel guilty; perhaps indignant. Though Kakashi doubted the latter, at least for now, later on; that anger would manifest and it would be wracking to Naruto and all caught inbetween. It was something the silver haired man was uncertain of how to properly handle- he had not managed to do so with Sasuke's continuous cold anger. A failure he would continuously be haunted by it seemed, a sick karma that his inability to aid Sasuke had inadvertently caused Naruto to become debilitated. Then again, his mistakes causing problems on a large scale was not exceedingly uncommon; and there came another want to sigh, he held it in his lungs- barely.

"You'll be staying with me for a bit so-" He felt the chair jerk, before he was confronted with a wide-eye of blue confusion, nervousness lurking underneath in a way Kakashi was far from comfortable seeing. Though within his own nerves a slight more rampant in his mind, he focused instead on the teenager's reaction rather then his own, Naruto staring at him- a sweat was prominent on tanned brow, one which had not been there moments ago.

"Ah, that's not- I can take care of myself Kakashi-sensei." He could not manage to sigh for the ridiculous statement, not for the concept that it was idiotic- so much as he knew he would have said the same thing; albeit with a different phrasing, and extensive dismissal, even while understanding he would be challenged to do so. Whereas the one in the wheelchair presently in all consideration, likely thought himself fully capable of performing daily tasks with only a minor difficulty. A reality Kakashi could not conceptualize inside of a rationalization which Naruto would accept- perhaps even understand. Sad as it were, the prodigy of his generation was more then competent enough to know that his student was not aware of his own boundaries: that because they had been ever expanded with his prisoner residing within. This; was not a fact Kakashi was prepared to bombard the naive teenager with after having extensive surgery, having lost his leg, control of his arm, and being in rather prominent denial.

His mind-forged a clay made a compromise that would melt over him quickly, but he had no true alternative. For the moment, Naruto would not accept that he was handicapped and saying as much would only make him more adamant to prove otherwise, injuring himself in the process. "Just a few days, then when you've got a hand of things without my help you can go back to your apartment." A lie, a white one, but it was all the comfort he could provide without being entirely deceitful, though through it all- he may be a shinobi trained to trick, and trap, seduce and fool; within his village the at least attempted to adhere to his own personal morality. Naruto was not ready to be told the truth- and though he himself had partially acknowledged it, saying it outwardly unto someone else as an admittance was far from his ability at the moment. His apartment was hardly far away and upon seeing it he forced the sinking in his stomach to be stationary- emotional control which was a bane and boon unto his mentality.

His apartment didn't have a way for disabled persons to use, indeed that being because it was reserved housing for active shinobi and it was more then rare to find a severely- physically disabled shinobi. His unit was small, too small in fact, not suitable for two people and he'd taken note of that fact whence he had attempted to make it more accommodating for Naruto's needs. He stopped at the curb, to go to the front of the chair, already dreading the imposing protest which would come. He found the blond to be making faces- confusion mixed with evaluation a look which was deceivingly innocent.

"Ne, this is where you live Kakashi-sensei? I expected it to be...bigger." Then of all times, despite his extreme circumstances; Naruto laughed, heaving laughter which to Kakashi looked rather painful considering the burnt state of his chest and scarring at the side of his mouth. Even with his mind of calculation, it took him a moment to understand why- and within that moment the feared Kakashi of the Sharingan wanted to facepalm himself over the idiocy of his student's mind. He refrained, but just barely, the sigh he let out instead was rather loud by his standards though. It was enough to get his injured charge to stop laughing at least, though he winced heavily after he came off his supposed high.

He had the decency to look a fraction sheepish, but only for a moment, before he once more wore a curious expression, blue eyes bore into his own, and Kakashi knew what the silent question was. It was asked, but Naruto ignored it himself, and tried to stand, pushing himself forward trying his best to use one leg as a balance. Just as quickly however, it failed, and he fell forward almost hitting the concrete face first; Kakashi caught him fast, knowing that his student would not be content to simply not make the attempt. Naruto's body weight nearly fully supported by his arm, he nearly didn't; but his eyes did so regardless and he looked downwards to see a depression carved onto a scarred face. Though it was not the same blank eyes Kakashi had seen in the hospital that day, and the jouin let that little hook pull his mood up an inch or two.

"You can't get up there on your own Naruto." He got no verbal response, but he saw blond brows pinch together in frustration. No protest formed on his lips however, and Kakashi spared no moment to contemplate that- but stepped himself closer, and twisted Naruto around slightly so that the other man's back rested in his arm rather then his fore. Breathed himself deep for want to ignore, and swept his leg up onto his other arm. That, earned a hiss.

"Oi! Kaka-sensei! Can't you carry me on your back or something?!" There was a weak wiggle as the lifted blond attempted to free himself from the hold- Kakashi held tighter in response and it stopped with a pout. His injuries were severe, his face was burned, skin blackened with pink flesh peering through as if touched by black ice and ripped in tandom. Yet it by some miracle did not effect how his expression shone- how it managed to appear ever the same. Nothing was distorted with the emotion there, just the visage. A childish pout which Kakashi had seen for all his years of knowing the other man, bottom lip jutted out, eyes closed and slanted- his whiskers, those that remained visible made him look as a fox; as they always had. It made the silver-haired man smile with a warmth, dim, but nevertheless it was evidence enough that Naruto hadn't changed, not yet; perhaps that was denial, one Kakashi was taking comfort from.

The door was open, as he had purposefully- and disturbingly enough Naruto was light, even having lost a limb it was evident he was underweight. This time he kept the sigh in, though he could not understand why Naruto of all people would skimp on meals- obviously he hadn't been taking great care of himself. It wasn't a time to remark on it however, it would be a painful trigger to open. As it were, he set the blond on the couch as gently as he could, his charge looking about his minal flat as if it was his greatest mystery to solve.

Kakashi left to gather his wheelchair from below, it would be needed. Though he walked down the flight with a lethargic step, not tired, but oh-so-weary. Facing the sight, the strain, minimal as it had been; the struggle which Naruto had always held, to battle his odds, to defy limitation. To see his determination fail, fall flat, and the chance of rising again so small, that spirit not gone, but struggling to hold on. He leant against the stair rail, fighting against his own urge to simply walk away for once, his own mistakes staring at him so blatantly in the face. He wiped away the tears he knew were about to come, with his hands, covering his face. Though the feeling of being watched prickled at his skin, and he peered through his fingers.

"Oi Kakashi." It had him pause, a fraction, his breath seemingly gone with a hitch. A small figure before him standing with hands in his pockets, grey sweatpants. His chest did not rise and fall in his navy t-shirt. Kakashi stared at the judging expression he wore, accusatory, and familiar that same piercing stare; deadly and serious. Intense and intent. His black hair did not move with the air, because there was nothing to move. And though, basic instinct told him that it was a threat he faced, Kakashi breathed deep and pulled his hands away from his face. Staring equally, suppressing the shutter he felt inside. "Maybe if I was to kill the most important people in your life." Then breaking the past, the boy in front of him smirked, malevolently, in a manner which should not have been possible for such a young genin. Kakashi twitched with the words, with the expression resting purposefully on him, but he moved, made his feet move as he grabbed the vacant chair. Turning away with that same prickling of being watched, watched by nothing. "Precious comrades to protect, you don't seem to be very good at it, eh, Kakashi-sensei?"