Kakashi blinked owlishly when Yamato pulled back, both eyes flickering open, looking from Yamato's mouth to his eyes and back again. He was so distracted in that moment that he didn't even spare a thought for how opening his sharingan was probably something he shouldn't be doing, and instead simply continued to blink dumbly at the man scowling back at him. He supposed Yamato had a point. They'd worked through one issue enough to resonably move onto a second, but Kakashi's mind kept coming back to what Yamato had said on the roof. He supposed he deserved that frown for reopening old wounds, and gave a sheepish look at the floor.

"..They broke my heart though. E-even before I knew that it was something you could give without realizing.."

Kakashi's embarrassed expression twitched with a flicker of pain. God, he could hear the hiccup of sadness in Yamato's voice even now, the memory perfectly and devestatingly engraved in his head, plastered in his memory. But that wasn't a conversation for now, wasn't a conversation to bring up at all; because as Yamato had said.. he was forgiven, the matter was dealt with. It didn't put him entirely at ease, but remembering it did soften the ache some.

He shook his head, his frustration at himself morphing to determination for his kouhai. Tenzou hadn't spent Kakashi's absence being pathetic and pining - he'd worked hard and pushed forward and become something great without him. He'd done that without Kakashi, and he had always had it in him to do this without Kakashi, too.

He shook his head then, looking back to Yamato and pulling one of his classic smiles; his eyes as crescents and his mask pulling tight.

"I know what you're capable of, as do you. If you want to fix this, you will."