#nera writes

Disquiet settles into Sakura’s bones despite everything working out as it should. Sasuke is everything someone would want in a partner; he gets along with her friends, he cooks most nights, and given her hectic schedule, he spends what free time he can making sure their plants are watered, and the apartment is clean. He’s doting and caring, and his reserved personality compliments Sakura’s outspokenness.

But, the dreams don’t stop.

Sakura dreams of more gray and green and black. Of sweet, succulent words kissed into her skin, and a feeling of love so resounding that it almost makes her want to cry. So why, if Sasuke is here, is she still having soulmate dreams? Why dream of the person you are meant to be with when they are right in front of you? Sasuke fits the mold, the description; he should be the one.

She wakes one night in a cold sweat, a scream caught in her throat. Sasuke lays next to her, softly snoring, ignorant to her distress. Her dreams have become more resound, sharp. She can make out the face of the figure in her dreams with striking clarity.

Sasuke is not her soulmate.

-o-

They’re in a war zone, fighting for their lives.

Blood and sweat are coating her skin, but all she can focus on is him.

Her hands glow green as she presses them to his chest, and she can hear the screams from those around her, but she can’t help them right now. She huddles closer to his wounds, calling his name like a prayer – the only prayer she knows.

His eyes flutter, and she cries with relief. “Stay with me, Kakashi!”

He groans in response, and Sakura helps him up, one arm thrown around his back, the other placed in the middle of his chest, continuing to heal the two intersecting gashes that reside there. She tucks herself close to him, enamored by the sight of him, alive and well.

“How do you feel,” she asks softly.

At first, he grunts a non-committal response and steadies himself on his own two feet.  “Better now, thanks to you.” He takes a long breath, then another, before pulling himself away from her. Sakura tries not to frown at the loss of his warmth.

“Come on,” he says, beginning to walk towards the fray of bodies. “We have to go help the others.”

“Right behind you, sensei,” she confirms before following him into the battle.

-o-

That morning she’s a little more than excited; she’s jubilant and joyful, dancing around their kitchen with her favorite coffee mug in hand while Sasuke is cooking breakfast.

He notices the change from her traditional morning mood but doesn’t immediately comment. It’s only when she starts to hum off-key while digging into her scrambled eggs that he mentions anything.

“You seem happy this morning. Good night’s sleep?” Sasuke questions.

Sakura smiles until her eyes crinkle. “You could say that,” she replies coyly.

She finally got his name.

-o-

Sasuke is in one of the dreams. It’s odd to see him there. A deep sense of sadness washes over her as she stares at him, but it’s like a piece of the puzzle that has been missing for so long has finally clicked into place.

He looks the same, yet different, hair wild and about, a dark cloak around his form. There’s something wrong with his eyes; they look like something out of a nightmare, one purple with rings around the iris, but the other is its ordinary charcoal, and he doesn’t look like he is in pain, so she doesn’t question it. He is calm and talking to her, thanking her for believing in him all this time. Dejection crosses her features when she tells her that she has to stay, and he needs to go, to find himself out in the world.

Her soulmate is there, standing ever the silent guard, watching their interaction.

It’s not long after that Sasuke takes his leave, but before he goes, he pokes her forehead with two fingers, a gesture of goodwill, then sees himself off.

When he is nothing but a blur on the horizon, her soulmate – no Kakashi – turns to her and says, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she replies, and honestly, she is. She is better than okay; she is complete. She has the closure she needs to move forward from this chapter in her life.

Kakashi looks at her with doubt clouding his expression, but she does not let it weigh on her. Instead, she grabs his hand, squeezing it tight, and starts to drag him back towards the entrance to the village.

“Come on. Naruto wants to meet us for lunch!”

-o-

“Do you still have dreams?” Sakura suddenly asks.

The conversation between Ino and TenTen slowly dies away. All three of them rarely have an afternoon off, and it’s even rarer that their schedules line up to allow them to try the new sandwich shop that opened up downtown. Tenten looks at her curiously, while Ino, meal now long forgotten, seems perturbed.

“Like in general?” TenTen asks. “Or are you talking about something specific?”

Sakura’s cheeks flush under their twin scrutiny. “Like soulmate dreams. Do you still have them now that you found yours?”

Ino and TenTen share a look that has Sakura answering her question before they can. Of course, they don’t have soulmate dreams. They found their soulmates around the same time Sakura insisted she found hers. Everything recorded about soulmates states that dreams should stop after you meet them.

“Did you ever see past lives?” Sakura follows up her question quickly.

Ino places her fork down and cocks her head to the side. “Forehead, what is this all about?” She looks concerned, and Sakura’s stomach twists uncomfortably. She grabs the napkin next to her tray and starts picking at the frayed edges, distracting herself.

There’s a prolonged silence, and only when it’s clear that Sakura is not going to answer does Ino break it with a sigh. “No, I don’t dream anymore, and yes, I did see past lives. In one of them, I owned a greenhouse.”

Sakura snorts, nerves temporarily forgotten. “Why do I find that very hard to believe.”

Ino could barely keep a goldfish alive, let alone a room full of plants. The blonde flips her ponytail over her shoulder, “Believe it, Forehead. You’re talking to the bona fide ancestor of a florist.”

TenTen rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I was a martial artist in one of my past lives. I remember seeing a dojo and a strange man who I think was my teacher. He had the worst eyebrows imaginable.”

All three laugh at that, their mirth trailing into a companionable silence. TenTen starts to dig back into her sandwich, but Ino stares at Sakura, questions lingering in her gaze.

“Is there something you want to tell us, Sakura?” The blonde asks, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Sakura that Ino has foregone her favorite nickname.

“It’s just,” Sakura starts and then suddenly stops, exhales, and backtracks. “No, it’s just something Tsundae said on shift yesterday. Got me thinking about a couple of things, and I just wanted your opinions.”

Neither looks like they believe her lie, but no one presses her on it, and for that, Sakura is grateful.

“How’s Neji? How’s Sai?” Sakura inquires, and TenTen takes the bait, prattling on about her and Neji’s most recent bout of apartment shopping. Ino is slower to join the fray, blue eyes pinning Sakura with a look that states this is not over.

-o-

They’re fighting. Fighting over something that she cannot understand in this lifetime.

Something called Anbu.

“Is it because you don’t think I’m strong enough?” She yells, the hurt evident in her voice.

“No,” he croaks. “No. Not at all. I just…I can’t –”

“Can’t what, Kakashi? Can’t what? Can’t believe that I made Anbu? Can’t believe I’ve made something of myself after all these years?” She’s on the defensive, anger boiling beneath her skin. She must have struggled to prove herself in this life, making her defensive, hardened, and bitter.

There’s mention of Sasuke, of that man named Naruto again, and then the dam breaks, “I can’t lose you too!”

Sakura deflates, if only slightly. There’s something about the pitch of his voice, that broken tone, that pulls at her heart strings. “You and Naruto can’t keep me hidden away forever. Sasuke is out there getting stronger, and Naruto is on the verge of becoming Hokage. I need to try this. I need to see what I can do. What I’m capable of. I cannot live in your shadows anymore.”

She finishes packing her bag and walks over to his prone form, standing in the corner of her bedroom. She presses onto her toes – he’s always been so damn tall – and brushes a kiss along his cloth-covered cheek. She doesn’t know why he tries to keep up the facade; she’s seen his face before. But she doesn’t push, and he doesn’t change – and that seems to be the crux of their issue, doesn’t it.

“I’ll see you when I get back, Kakashi,” she says in the way of parting.

He doesn’t let her make it far before pulling her back with one hand, crushing her in his embrace. Sakura is stock still, tense as this is the most contact he has initiated between them. But the warmth of his hug unfurls her, and she melts into him after only a moment’s hesitance.

“You will come back,” he states with conviction, his lips pressed to the crown of her hair.

Sakura smiles into the skin of his neck. “I will come back,” she repeats, assurance evident in her tone.

-o-

Their first kiss is innocent.

A fleeting touch of his lips against hers, but it’s real; it happens.

She returns from her mission, the one they are fighting about, and he’s waiting for her at the gates. She doesn’t even have a moment to greet him before he’s pulling her into his arms, witnesses be damned, and his lips are on hers. She doesn’t see him pull down the cloth that covers his face, but it’s gone, and his lips are a little chapped, but they’re warm and welcoming, and they fight away the weariness in her bones.

He pulls back just enough to look at her, his eyes raking across her face. There’s a beat, then two, before he lowers his mouth to hers again. 

It feels like her every nerve is straining towards him so that even this whisper-light touch burns. The kiss is slow, a build-up of what they’ve created. Kakashi is trying to feel her out, trying to gauge what she likes and doesn’t like. She can’t tell him that she wants all of it – at least not right now. Not with the way his hand cups just beneath her jaw, the musky scent of his utility vest filling her nostrils. The heat of his mouth against hers. It’s all achingly gentle.

Sakura can feel her toes curl from the innocence of it.

When they part again, Sakura has to catch her breath. “Kakashi,” she whispers.

Genma releases a wolf-whistle behind them, a low, drawn-out note that has the others in her unit chuckling.

“What?” He questions, dark eyes filled with delight. “No kisses for the rest of us, Kakashi?”

“Fuck off, Genma,” Sakura snarks before pulling Kakashi down by the collar of his vest and sealing her lips against his.

-o-

When she wakes up, she has no idea what time it is. It’s still dark outside, and her blinds let in the full moonlight. Sakura is tangled in someone, his heavy arm pressing her against his chest so tight it feels like she can’t breathe. She can’t tell which world she is in, her reality or the one in her dreams, but it sparks something within her, and she must flee.

No one should be here. No – this man should not be here. Only her one is supposed to be here. Some dormant instinct kicks in, and Sakura furiously pushes at the body around hers, scrambling out of bed and falling on the floor. It’s panic—a feeling. A raw emotion vibrating under her skin and attempting to claw its way out. She’s sprawled on the floor, her head ringing and her breath coming out in little gasps as she scrambles away.

His voice is groggy, but he seems to understand what’s happening immediately.

“Sakura, baby girl, it’s me. It’s just me.”

She listens to the voice, her name falling from his mouth, and remembers who he is. She’s safe. It’s Sasuke. Sasuke, her boyfriend. The man who never hurt her, the man who has stuck by her side. Sasuke, her ­would-be soulmate. The relief she feels could drown her, but instead, she chokes on it because this is not real; this is a façade. A façade she has buried her life into, a twisted lie of happiness she is selling herself to. This is not real.

“Sakura, come back to bed,” he says, looking at her from over the edge of the mattress. In the dim light, his skin is pale, and his eyes are inky black.

But they’re not the eyes she wants.

She can’t move; she just stares at him. He’s not a mix of the right colors. His hair isn’t gray, and there’s no scar dissecting one eye. It’s not him. He must become impatient with her inability to formulate coherent words because he reaches his arm out and grabs her by the hand, half pulling her back onto the bed, but she squeals in protest and digs her heels into the carpet.

“You’re safe, come to bed,” he says, commanding. In control.

She nods slowly, realizing that she has been acting erratically. This is her home, her bed, and her lover. She is safe, the safest that she can be.

She says nothing even as he pulls her to the edge of the bed and tugs her back onto the mattress. He nestles her back into the cave of his body and puts his arm over her as she rests her head against her pillow. His other arm wiggles underneath her neck, reaching out to clasp her hand, intertwining their fingers. They resume their spooning, no other words shared between them, and for a while, all Sakura can hear is the jumping beat of her heart. His body is hot, and she lets the warmth seep through her. The panic recedes, replaced by that honey-warm yet empty feeling she always has when it comes to him.

She falls back asleep almost instantly, chasing the dreams that bring her true peace.

-o-

Of all the ways Sakura thought their first time might happen—being in the middle of nowhere, cramped in the confines of a tent, with nothing more than a pallet and a cup of tea between the two of them, never entered her mind.

He keeps touching her. It’s small things—brushes of his fingers, his shoulder warm and hard against hers. He strokes the inside of her forearm, and she sighs. In turn, she touches him, slowly prying that mask from his face, and brushes off his utility vest. She tucks the fingers of one of her hands under the hem of his black shirt, splaying them against his skin. She’s the one to turn into him, to kiss him.

It’s just a brush of her mouth against his, so soft it might have been accidental. But it isn’t.

“Sakura,” he breathes, and his hand is on her cheek, thumb against her chin. She tilts her head a little, and their lips meet again.

She doesn't try to cover herself when he pulls her shirt over her head. They know one another; they’ve been together for so many years, but not like this. She doesn’t have time to feel anxiety or the pull of her nerves.

“I love you,” she says softly when she pulls back.

He looks at her like he’s staring at the sun, like it hurts, but he doesn’t want to look away. His hand comes up and caresses her cheek, and then he’s tugging her closer, and he slants his mouth over hers.

It’s enough of an answer for her.

-o-

When the rest of their clothes disappear, and they come together for the first time, Sakura wakes up and cries.

-o-

Ino is the first person, including Sakura, to notice that she is unhappy. They’re out at a dive bar, getting drinks after a shift, when Ino looks her up and down, frowning slightly. Sakura likes to think that she keeps her innermost secrets hidden from those around her, but Ino stares at Sakra like she already knows.

“How are things with Sasuke going?” She asks, hitting the nail right on the head. Sakura flinches slightly, hands tightening on her cocktail. She’s sure Ino catches the movement.

Sakura has kept Sasuke hidden away throughout the last few weeks. It’s not that she’s embarrassed by him; on the contrary, he has been nothing but patient with what she has been going through, but the dreams don’t stop, and she is not happy, and this whole endeavor is consuming her from the inside out.

“Break up with him,” Ino states without so much of a preamble. “You’re not happy. It’s written all over your face.”

And that right there is the real problem because she has thought about it. Not about the breaking up part, but about the two of them together. Things have been a bit strained since her dreams have become more vivid – no, not dreams, memories. Sakura spends a lot of time contemplating the inner workings of her and Sasuke’s relationship – has spent a lot of time denying the possibility he might feel something real for her and she him, but they are trapped by the binds that she created. If she hadn’t rushed into things, they might have been different.

“Better off as friends,” Sakura mutters, agreeing. Ino takes another sip of her beer, waiting for Sakura to continue, but she doesn’t, and the two of them get lost within the beat of the bass playing from the speaker.

She certainly didn’t want how this turned out, to be trapped in some tiny metropolitan apartment with Sasuke living out some pale imitation of life that could not compare to what a genuine relationship could be like with a soulmate. But, from what she knew, he didn’t dream or at least hasn’t had one since they’ve been together – not that he’s ever told her. So she must be his soulmate, right?

Could you possibly belong to two separate people? Was the universe that fucked up?

She just hopes he isn’t going to use this against her, not that she thinks that he would. Not that it would work because she will likely hold onto this relationship for as long as she can. He is the foundation, the start of all of this that she is experiencing; without Sasuke, Sakura feels like she has amounted to nothing.

It's genuinely disheartening, like trying to catch sand between her fingers. Things just started getting back to normal between them – well, as normal as they ever could be. And she needs him fully committed to this if they’re ever going to make it through this hump.

“You’re not going to do a damn thing about what I just suggested, are you?” Ino questions.

Sakura’s reply is immediate, “No.”

And that is the real question, isn’t it? Why is she clinging to this relationship with Sasuke if she could be spending her time looking for her soulmate and working on their happy ending?

“I’m comfortable,” she says, taking a long sip of her drink. Ino snorts, and Sakura chooses to ignore it before continuing. “I’m comfortable and safe, and I’m with someone who is taking care of me. And most of all…I’m…I’m scared. Something is holding me back. Something is telling me that it’s not going to work, to stay. Stay comfortable; stay where I am. I’m secure here.”

Ino releases a breath from her nostrils and slugs back the remainder of her beer. Her best friend knows that it is all empty words, that Sakura is hiding from herself and what could be.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you fully,” she says, sliding off her chair. “But you’re going to tell me eventually.”

Sakura has to remind herself that she hasn’t told Ino about the dreams, about Kakashi, but it doesn’t seem like this seedy bar is the appropriate place, and luckily Ino continues not to press the issue. Her best friend might be a brat, but she is a godsend when it matters.

“Come on,” Ino states, grabbing Sakura’s drink and polishing off the rest of that as well, slamming the empty glass on the bar top. “I want to dance.”

She grabs both of Sakura’s hands and drags her to the dancefloor, and for a moment, Sakura forgets her issues, her inner dilemma, and laughter bubbles to the surface, spilling out of her with glee. She feels like a teenager again, dancing soppily along, feet sticking to the floor of this dive bar playing old rock music, something they clearly should not be dancing to. But, Ino is here, and they are giggling like school girls, singing off-key and at a volume far too loud for the lack of people decorating this place, but she can’t bring herself to care and gets lost in the feel of her and her best friend enjoying themselves.

-o-

The dreams of their lovemaking are the worst.

She dreams of calloused hands inching up her thighs, hushed whispers in her ear, teeth nibbling at her skin – of cries praising her name. She can feel his touch, feel him,around her, inside her, and it brings tears to her eyes. 

She reaches for Sasuke during those nights, waking him up with wicked words and heated promises, with kisses to his most sensitive areas, and she gets lost in the feel of him against her.

When they’re finished, with sweat-stained brows and panting filling the silence of their room, after she calls out what she knows is the wrong name during her release, Sakura feels sated.

But it doesn’t last. It’s not long before the regret fills her gut, and it becomes an ugly knot of self-loathing and doubt that drags her into the dark recesses of her mind. She withdraws in on herself, curling on her side, pulling away from Sasuke’s embrace. He, again, bless him, never comments on how she self-isolates after they’re together. He grants her the space she needs, eventually losing himself to his own thoughts.

This is not enough – the dreams are not enough, but it is all she has, so it will have to do for now.

She chases that feeling of when she was dancing in the bar with Ino, where for a moment she was happy, contented with her life. She wants to go back to forgetting, to not having dreams that make her desire something coveted by others, something she has punished herself into thinking will never be hers.

She welcomes the abyss of sleep like an old friend.

-o-

By some cruel twist of fate, Sasuke leaves her in the fall of that same year.

He cites irresolvable differences, but she’s not an idiot. He can see the distance, the bags under her eyes. They fight more recently about little things – anything and everything. Sakura starts to think that he finally started having soulmate dreams, that they’ve become more vivid. That he finally knows who he belongs to. It’s not her; it has never been her. It was never their time – not then and not now. He chooses to pack up his stuff and leave without much fanfare. For the first time in their relationship, Sakura’s thankful for his stoic demeanor.

He walks towards the door, the last box of his belongings in his grasp. He suddenly stops and turns, staring at her for a long moment.

“I hope you find him,” Sasuke states simply, offering no further explanation.

Sakura finches. “What?”

He places the box down and crowds into her personal space, leaning down. At first, Sakura thinks he is going to kiss her, and she closes her eyes. She’s not strong enough to witness their end, their goodbye. Especially not if his version of ending their relationship is a goodbye kiss. It will break her. So she waits a long second, expecting the contact of his lips on hers, but it never comes.

She starts when she feels two fingers poke her in the middle of her forehead and opens her eyes. Sasuke smiles, that small, demure smile that he offers only to her. “I hope you find the man you keep dreaming about.”

He leaves without saying another word, picking up the discarded box. The door closes softly, echoing throughout their previously shared space. And then she is left alone in a half-empty apartment, and it feels like the walls are closing in on her.

Sakura breaks down into tears.

-o-

Ino comes over later that night, bringing over two bottles of cheap wine and some romantic comedies from the last 2000s that are guaranteed to make her laugh.  They don’t really pay much attention to the films playing in the background because Sakura spends most of that time spilling her secrets, baring her soul to her closest friend. They have polished off both bottles of wine and have moved to the leftover beer in Sakura’s fridge when Ino suggests it.

“We could look for him,” she slurs.

Sakura is lying on the floor next to the couch, sprawled out like a starfish with her can of alcohol balancing on her chest. She removes it, discarding it to the side before sitting up, swaying slightly as the world rights itself.

“Look for who, Pig?” She murmurs, losing her fight with gravity and unceremoniously falling back to the floor.

Ino chuckles at her antics from the sofa, then hiccups. “Your soulmate, duh.”

-o-

It’s their wedding day; she can tell from the way that she’s wrapped in white and he in all black, and they are kneeling in the front of a room of people Sakura has begun to recognize from other dreams.

She slides her eyes over to her soon-to-be husband; the wide sleeves of his ceremonial garb falls over his hands, hiding the anxious fidgeting underneath. She can tell he is nervous as he never liked to be the center of attention, and the gathering guests have him wound tight like a bowstring. His eyes are on the tatami, seeing yet unseeing, and Sakura subtly crawls her hand over to his, slipping it under the cloth to intertwine their fingers together. She realizes then that hers are slightly shaking as well, but they find strength together, and he squeezes her hand to the point where she is sure that both of their knuckles have turned white.

Tsunade stands close by, smiling beneath her wide-brimmed Hokage hat, ready and happy to officiate their wedding. Ino flitted about the room with TenTen’s help, adjusting the flowers and tapestries one final time.

In a bid to keep cold feet at bay, Sakura counts each of the guests off in her head, not just once but twice. It’s not that she does not want to marry the man of her dreams, but it’s a little hard to believe that they’ve gotten to this point with the type of life they have led. It’s far too soon that Tsunade calls for everyone to be seated as the final preparations have been completed.

“You ready?” He asks.

Sakura rolls her eyes skyward like she is asking for help from God and teases, “To be hitched to you? Forever? I’m not so sure.”

Kakashi offers her a blinding smile that steals her breath away before they are both ushered to face forward.

The ceremony blurs into a euphony of blessings and vows. The traditional sake is poured, and Kakashi takes a sip from the tiny glass before passing it to her. They share the medium and the large glass rather quickly, both of them a barely contained bundle of nerves. They continue to kneel before the small shrine and light candles in prayer, then receive the blessings of the guests and their precious people.

By the time it comes to exchanging rings, Kakashi has mellowed considerably compared to her. He smiles so brightly, and again Sakura has to remember how to breathe. She almost drops his wedding band with how bad her hands are shaking. Here she is, on the day she never thought she would get to see, green eyes awash with tears, happy tears, with a man who completes her body and mind.

Who completes her soul.

Sakura finally finds her inner strength and secures the gold band on his ring finger. There are a few more blessings, ceremonial words exchanged, and then they’re kissing, the room erupting in cheers.

Sakura doesn’t think she has ever been this happy in her entire life.

-o-

It seems silly, them playing detective in her small apartment, like something out of an internet meme.

But they scour as many social media and general search engines as possible and compile a list of fifty Kakashi’s within the tri-state area. Sakura offers Ino the best physical description of the man within her dreams. The two split the list down the middle and take off, noses buried in their laptops, looking for anything that could lead Sakura to her soulmate.

She knows that it’s a long shot because who is to say that her soulmate lives close by. But there is something in Sakura’s gut that tells her to pursue forward, to forget the fears that bound her for so long, that she will get the answers she needs.

Ultimately it doesn’t take long, only a matter of two days, and Sakura supposes this is the universe playing a sick joke on her because it’s easy, too easy.

“Sakura,” Ino calls in a tone that has Sakura lifting her head from her computer screen. The blonde is sitting on a stool at the island in Sakura’s kitchen, but the pitch of Ino’s voice has Sakura concerned. She looks pale, two shades whiter than is traditional for her already porcelain skin. She turns her computer slowly towards Sakura, and immediately emerald eyes are drawn to the screen.

In the top right corner is a picture of the man who has been haunting her dreams, decorating her past life with love-filled memories. Even from the distance across the room, Sakura can tell it is him. The same man who she married, the same man she had children with, the same man she grew old with. It may not have been in this lifetime, but it felt real enough, he felt real enough, and there he is staring back at her.

He is older than she expected. There are crows’ feet around his eyes and age lines around his mouth, but age doesn’t matter – she’s almost thirty-one, and this is her soulmate she is talking about. It’s him, it’s him, and she suppresses the squeal that bubbles up her throat.

He must be some big shot if an article is written about him, and Sakura finds herself scrambling to her feet so that she can get a better look and learn more about him. She should have realized something was wrong when she noticed that Ino was not sharing in her delight. Her best friend sits stock still, staring at Sakura with tears welling up in her too-blue eyes. Goosebumps break out across Sakura’s arm, the hair on the back of her neck standing on edge as her shoulders hike up to her ears. Something is wrong; something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Only when she gets closer to the laptop does she understand why her friend is so upset.

It’s not an article.

It’s an obituary.

-o-

Kakashi Hatake:

Born: September 15th, 1978 Died: July 3rd, 2022

Kakashi Hatake, 44, master sergeant, USAF (Ret.), passed away on Sunday, July 3rd, after a training drill at the local airbase went awry. Stg. Hatake was called into the base to train recruits and implement new safety procedures for the flight program. Kakashi, a beloved son and friend, leaves behind no living dependents. Services will be held at Saint Catherine’s Church on West 15th Street on July 6th at 2:00 PM.

-o-

Initially, she cries. She screams and cries and rants and raves—all for what she lost, all for what could have been. A part of her dies when she reads that obituary. It was from this year, and the moments that she spent with another man could have been memories made with her soulmate.

Ino sobs with her, holding her friend desperately, as they both release earth-shattering cries, huddled together on her couch. And when the tears are gone, and there is nothing left but aching emptiness, a loneliness that she does not believe she could face, Sakura comes to a semblance of a conclusion.

Every time you lose someone, it becomes a scar.

She doesn’t want any loss to outweigh or outshine another, but she doesn’t want this feeling to be something that just passes. She got her first scar when she lost her grandparents, second when she lost her father, and now a third when she lost Kakashi before she could even have him. Her scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that she had with these people. And even though the scars are deep, so was the love.

And it will continue as it should be.

Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that she can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that she can heal and continue to live and continue to love.

It takes a bit more research, and Ino holds her hand through the entire procedure, but she finds out where he is buried.

Ino offers to take her there, but Sakura decides against it. She has to do it alone to find that closure she so coveted in her previous life. She arrives with a small bouquet of white chrysanthemums that contrast brightly with the brown parchment paper they are wrapped in.

She wanders through the cemetery, down the path she is sure she will familiarize herself with over the next few weeks.

There is another person at the gravesite. He’s tall, with a close-cut head of black hair. The side of his face that is visible to her is covered with an eye patch, skin mottled with a twisting, ugly scar. It looks like the skin was torn apart and hastily put back together, leaving a grotesque aftermath.  He can’t see her approach, but he must hear the crunching of dead leaves underneath her feet because he suddenly turns to her and blanches at the sight of her. It gives her time to take him in more thoroughly, and Sakura thinks that in another life, without his scar, he would be extremely handsome.

He seems to collect himself with a slight shake and offers her a small smile. “Names Obito,” he states in greeting. “I take it you must be Sakura.”

Sakura hides her surprise, eyes awash with fresh tears. “How’d you know?”

Obito doesn’t verbally respond; he instead pulls at a lock of his onyx hair and then points toward her own. She approaches him slowly and settles herself next to him, placing the flowers on top of the grave. They lapse into silence for only a moment, both staring at the carved stone in front of them. It’s beautiful, the marble headstone. Decorated with angels and swirls, topped with the words “Here Lies.”

“He would talk about you, you know,” Obitos says after another moment. “Talk about how your hair was so bright, and your temper left something to be desired.” Sakura releases a laugh, wet and thick with emotion. She sniffles, and Obito reaches into his pocket and produces a tissue which she takes gratefully. “He was sure that you two were going to meet one day. All he could talk about was the dreams. Sometimes I was so jealous of the two of you, but I couldn’t get him to shut up about it.”

Sakura snorts, taking the tissue and blotting it in the corner of her eyes. She misses a tear or two but doesn’t bother to try and wipe them away.

There’s another bout of silence, and then, “Do you want me to tell you about him?” Obito asks.

The kunai is out of her hand before she turns around, the fast-food container now a discarded pile on her hardwood floor. Her weapon misses its mark, and judging by the muted ‘thunk’, it’s embedded into the wall. She scowls slightly at her skewed aim – and the fact that she will have to patch a hole – but her secret visitor has stopped skulking around in the shadows of her living room, so she considers it a small victory.

When his chakra washes over her, Sakura relaxes – only slightly. She flicks her ankle, discarding some of the mangled mess of beef and broccoli spilled on her foot, then stomps her way to the closest wall and slaps her hand against the light switch.

“What the hell are you doing, Deidara!?” She seethes.

Should she be surprised that an ex-war criminal had broken into her apartment? Probably.

Is she? Not really.

They fought side by side during the war, and despite not being within immediate proximity for most of it, Sakura can still hear the resounding explosions of his bombs connecting with their targets. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but from how he revisits the memories during their late-night tirades, she is sure he kept a close eye on her while she was fighting. He knows too many details of her shining moments and the enemies that she took down. She doesn’t know if she should have been scared or exasperated by his interest in her, but she chooses not to ask herself that question often.

These little midnight visits started when the village was rebuilt and a sense of normalcy washed over the nation. Most of the time, they were to avoid getting into immediate trouble within his home village – he did have a knack for blowing things up, after all. Some were for healing minor wounds he received on his probationary missions; others were for absolutely nothing but to annoy her in her free time.  

She couldn’t tell if he was on the right side of genius or the wrong side of crazy, but she enjoyed herself in his company. Most of their visits were spent with her listening to him talk about his art and medians. She couldn’t help but be enthralled by him, as he was enthusiastic. Sakura thinks she’s the only one who truly listens to him as he rants and raves, hence why he keeps coming back.

Though, there is something different as of late. It’s the way he looks at her. It’s guarded and apprehensive, like he wants to tell her something but is holding himself back. She never asks about his change in demeanor, hoping that he would figure it out on his own.

Her interloper has one hand raised, brows high on his forehead like he’s shocked that she would throw a sharp object in the general direction of his face. The lone blue eye not tucked behind his bangs slides to the kunai next to his ear. Sakura silently preens at noting it cut off some of his luscious blonde hair.

“You could have killed me, yeah!”

Sakura scoffs at his dramatics, eyes-rolling. “More like barely maim,” she says. She points a finger in his general direction, wiggling it up and down. “Doesn’t answer my question. What’s with the cloak and dagger routine?”

Much like his fighting style, Deidara is not the quiet type. Typically he makes his presence known while sneaking in her window or breaking in through her balcony door.

Deidara raises his other hand, the one pressed against his side, and Sakura catches the site of his palm covered in sticky, crimson blood.

“I need your help, yeah. Otherwise, I might bleed out on your carpet.”

“Bleed out on my –,” Sakura pauses, taking the time to skirt around the island in her kitchen to peer into her living room where Deidara stood. “Might? Might? You’re already leaking all over it!” She takes in the muddy red stains marring her yellow rug and growls, “I just bought that last week!”

Deidara winces slightly at her screeching and presses his coated hand back to his hip. “I’ll buy you a new one, yeah? So help me out here.”

Her gaze turns into a hate-filled glower, and Deidara grimaces again. He steps towards her but stops mid-stride when Sakura crosses her arms over her chest, anger not diminishing. He knew that look and what it meant.

“You do realize that you’re on probation, right?” Sakura questions. “You’re not even supposed to be within fifty miles of Konoha, let alone bleeding on my carpet.”

Deidara makes a noise that makes Sakura believe that he doesn’t particularly care about the aspects of his sentencing. “Hasn’t stopped me before,” he says. “And it won’t stop me in the future. You should start coming up with some new excuses. Come on, pinkie, help me out.”

He cocks his head to the side, bobbing it slightly, eyebrow raised and a sad pout plastered on his face. He knows she won’t last long with him begging; her good-natured heart would never turn down someone in need. It’s only a matter of time and a waiting game.

They lapse into prolonged silence, their stare-off becoming a battle of wills. She thinks she might have him beat, but the longer she stands there, the more exhaustion creeps into her bones. All she wants to do is take a shower, wash the day away, and crawl into her bed. Deidara, for his part, is starting to hunch in on himself, breath coming out in short parts – the pitter-patter of his blood continuing to stain her carpet. The last of Sakura’s stubbornness subsides when she takes in the twist of his mouth and the pinch between his brows. She doesn’t know what he’s done, but clearly, whatever it is bothering him enough that he’s wobbling on his own two feet.

She clicks her tongue, brushes a hand down her face, and states, “You know where the bathroom is. Go get the kit and sit down.” She waves him away with a hand.

Deidara is off before she could even second guess her discission, trotting down the hallway to her restroom, a trail of blood following behind him. She joins him at a much slower pace, taking the time to inspect the damage done to her rug. She will have to throw the whole thing away; what a pain.

By the time she’s reached the bathroom, he’s sitting on the lip of her tub, shirtless, wound oozing openly. It’s not the worst thing she’s seen; a decent-sized chunk of skin is missing close to his hip. It looks like someone or something took a bite out of him. She steps into the room, grabbing bandages from the first aid kit he kindly left next to her sink. She kneels on the floor, trying not to think about the fact that she is trapped between his thighs, and closes in on the wound.

Her hands start to glow a soft green, and she hovers them over the injury.

“Do I even want to know how you got this?” She asks.

Deidara sighs almost blissfully. “It was beautiful, beautiful art. You should have seen it, yeah.”

Sakura snorts, “I’m good. The last thing I need is to be caught interloping with one of the world’s reformed criminals.”

He chuckles, “Hasn’t stopped you from locking your windows or balcony door. Also, the key word in that sentence is reformed, yeah.”

She grumbles, caught red-handed, and heat blooms in her cheeks. “So, you blew yourself up by accident?” Sakura retaliates, trying to distract them both.

He smirks, knowing he has her beat. He leans further back on the tub’s edge for her to access his injury better. “A piece of debris clipped me when my newest formation exploded.”

The wound has closed enough for her to consider him out of any immediate danger. She doesn’t heal him entirely, just enough for the damage to be scabbed over and the skin to be mended.

Sakura considers it payback for her rug.

She reaches beside her, where she discarded the bandages, and motions for him to sit up straight. He does as she asks, and they lapse into companionable silence as she wraps his torso. She is so focused on her task that she doesn’t even bother to push her hair back as it falls into her eyes.

Sakura starts when she feels his fingers brush against the skin of her forehead, sliding down the side of her cheek to brush that hair behind her ear. Her eyes dart to his face, taking in his relaxed smile. It makes him look younger and boyish. It’s something that she would like to see on him more often. She bites her tongue, stopping herself from saying anything as that look starts to bleed back into his features. The one that she can’t place an emotion for.  She turns from him and finishes her task, tying off the bandages with a small knot.

“There you go,” she says as she sits back on her knees. “All finished.”

He flexes the muscles in his stomach once, twice, then twists from side to side, judging the strength of her healing.

“As always, pinkie, you’re the best, yeah!”

She smiles at the nickname. “Yeah yeah,” she boasts, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He immediately reaches for his undershirt and cloak, discarded on the toilet seat next to them. He slips them on quickly before standing and moving around her towards the door. Sakura fights the jolting disappointment at realizing that he is most likely not staying tonight.

She stands slowly, and some of her emotion must have slipped into her expression because Deidara's smiling again when he turns towards her. It’s a cocky twist of his lips, and he's leaning towards her before she has a chance to ask him what’s so damn funny.

 It’s a shock to feel the brush of his lips across her cheek. It feels like someone had dumped a cold drink over her head; she went still and frigid, face freezing in place. She looks up at him with her mouth agape; all the while, he looks like the cat who got the canary.

Eventually, when Sakura’s brain can formulate coherent thoughts, she smacks her hand against her cheek, where his lips were only a few seconds before.

“What the hell are you doing?” She tries to sound affronted, but her voice fails her, and her challenge comes out more like a shocked, subdued whisper.

“Saying thank you, yeah,” Deidara simply replies, roguish smile still in place.

“The hell you are. Are you out of your god damn m –,” Sakura begins to say, but then his hand is on her hip, and his other is at her cheek, and his fingers were warm and callused, and he smelled a bit like gun powder and his cloak was worn against her hands and—

He kisses her, and it’s gentle and a little unassuming, like he is asking her a question. It’s just a brush of his mouth against hers, but she feels it from the top of her head down to her toes – Sakura could feel them curling against the tiles of her bathroom floor. There’s only a second’s hesitation before she’s kissing him back, and the world goes a little quiet, a little away. She likes everything about the kiss: the soft press of his body against hers, the slowness of it, the way he draws away, if only for a moment, as if to check she is all right with this.

He dips back in quickly for a second kiss, this one lasting a little longer than the first, but she the one pulls away this time, much too soon than she would like, but she feels like she needs to get her head on straight before she gets lost in the feel of him.

She doesn’t know how the night’s events have turned to this, nor when Deidara’s infatuation turned from curiosity to friendly to extremely fond, but she can now place that look in his eye: longing. She adds some questions – and a lot more – to the steady-growing pile in the back of her mind. There’s a time and place, and she’s immensely enjoying herself right now.

“This doesn’t get you out of buying me a new rug, you know,” she says, her voice breathless.

Deidara laughs, a loud, hearty sound rattling his chest, and leans down to claim her lips again.

Sakura pulls back once more. “And you’re cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.”

“Whatever you say, pinkie. Let me finish saying thank you, yeah?” He murmurs, dipping his head once more.

-o-

“Focus, Genma,” she growls, snapping her finger to draw his attention. “What is today’s date?” It takes him a moment to respond, “It’s the second of July.”

“The second of July,” Sakura parrots, nodding her head slowly. “And what is so important about the second of July?”

Realization dawns like a punch to the gut – or rather more like a kunai to the chest, and Genma takes a staggering step around his petite wife’s frame and crowds into their kitchen.

He almost presses his face against the window pane, taking in the colorful balloons, the tri-colored bouncy house, and the mass of screaming children running around his backyard. Parents linger by the refreshments table, talking amongst themselves and half-watching the children with amusement in their expressions.

“Oh no,” He whispers.

“Oh yes,” Sakura replies. “How could you forget your son’s birthday?”

“Blame Kakashi,” is his immediate excuse.

Sakura growls, “Try again.”

“I was...um, I was…working?”

“Be careful with your next words, strike three, and you’re out,” Sakura gripes.

Genma smartly chooses not to speak after that. Sakura sighs, shoulders slumping, and Genma thinks that he might have gotten out of being in trouble for a passing moment, but then her ire is back, and her eyes are trained on him.

“Here’s what you’re going to do because I don’t have the time or energy to fight with you. You are going to turn your ass around, you are going to go to the nearest toy store, and you are going to buy Asahi the biggest toy in that store. You will then come back here, present it to him, and make it look like you’ve been around the entire time.”

Genma nods slowly, but his attention is drawn back outside, specifically towards the bouncy house.

“Or,” he starts. “I could go out there, and you know, play with them.”

“You are not going on that bouncy house, even after you get back. Now go.”

“Alright, alright,” he relents and walks towards the front door, but not before bending down and kissing his wife on the cheek. “Love you.”

Sakura’s ire has completed subsided at this point. “I love you too, you insufferable man. Remember, biggest toy.”

“Aye, Aye, captain,” Genma offers her a mock salute before he is out the door, Sakura’s soft giggle trailing behind him.

-o-

Later on, Genma returns with not just one but two of the most giant toys that any children have ever seen. It earns him the title of the ‘Best Dad Ever.’

Sakura shakes the raindrops from her shirt, tired lines underscoringthe heavy cast of her eyes, and the contour of her shoulders sags noticeably. Shewas exhausted; there was no arguing that. She was sure Kakashi felt thesame, though he could hide his better, but she could tell by how he stood, backconcaved, and shoulders slumped that their current situation also afflicted him.

She disregards the bags with him and wanders further intothe quaint reception area, catching the innkeeper’s attention.

“Hello, we’d like a room, please. Two beds,” Sakura requests.

The innkeeper looks up and laughs drily. “Sorry, sweetheart,but all of our rooms with two beds are booked up.” He holds up a piece ofpaper, a flyer she realizes, and points to the headline. “Annual fishing festivalthis weekend, you see.”

“In this weather?” Sakura scoffs, but the receptionistdoesn’t rise to her taunt. She looks back at Kakashi, noting with disdain that hereyes are poorly focused, and she cannot accurately concentrate and stare forlong. He doesn’t look as bothered as she expects him to, but then again, that ishis nature, aloof and stoic, without a care in the world.

“Two single rooms, then,” Sakura states in an exasperatedtone, turning back to the receptionist.

“Out of those as well, but I can see what I have availablefor the two of you,” the innkeeper offers. He moves to the registry and beginsscanning through the reservations. After a moment, he jabs his finger down thepaper and looks at Sakura with hope. “This reservation never showed, so theirroom is fair game. Only one bed, though.”

Sakura glances back at Kakashi again, looking for any reaction,but she finds him exhausted and mute, not offering any help. She glances at thewindow, noting the downpour and shivers. They could try and find another inn,surely not all of them are booked. She opens her mouth to say such, but Kakashielbows past her, slapping what’s left of their cash onto the countertop.

“It’s fine. We’ll take the room,” he says.

-o-

“Absolutely not,” Sakura says calmly.

Kakashi snorts. “It’s not that bad.”

“Coming from the man who definitely won’t fit on the bed?Sure, whatever you say,” she snarks.

The bed is full-sized, but the mattress is thin, and the wornwool comforter offers little to be desired. Kakashi tosses his pack down at thefoot of the bed and starts to strip out of his wet clothing. The utility vestgoes first, discarded on the room’s only chair, and second goes the weapons pouchstrapped to his thigh. He reaches for his shirt next, and it’s then that Sakura,horrifyingly, realizes that she is alone with the object of her desires.

Kakashi has been something of an enigma to her over the lastfew years. Since their genin days, they have been paired together, and thoughshe thinks of him as the annoying brother that she never wanted but got stuckwith anyway, there are instances, flashes, where she remembers that he is a man.A man that is constantly on her mind, someone who has engraved himself sofinely into the crevices of her life that she cannot wash him away even if shewanted to.

He is so annoying and frustrating with his lateness and carelessness,but she finds him so utterly fascinating that she cannot leave him be even ifshe tries. She is sure that he does not feel the same way, but there aremoments, after missions, when he looks at her, stares at her which such longingand desire that Sakura forgets how to breathe, and she is drawn in by thosemismatched eyes. She has hope that he returns a semblance of the feelings thatshe has for him. But he never acts on it, and those moments are few and farbetween. She categorizes those emotions based on the fact that they are usuallyaway from the village, in life-or-death situations, and he is worried aboutlosing a friend.

Kakashi sits at the edge of the bed after putting on a dryshirt and starts pulling off his shoes, one after the other, plopping on thefloor with a wet ‘squelch.’

He turns to her and calls, “Come to bed, Sakura.” His voice issuch a low timber it shoots right down her spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.“You’re exhausted. Let’s go to sleep.”

She feels like those emotions are slipping into his gazeagain, the ones that leave her warm at her core. The longer he stares at her,the more she feels the urge to fidget under his gaze. She does the only thingthat she is good at in moments like this: she flees.

“Let me change, and I’ll be right out,” Sakura offers,grabbing her wet bag from the floor and escaping into the bathroom.

-o-

When Sakura comes out of the bathroom, the lights in theroom are out, and Kakashi is already in bed. The only light is a faint luminescenceemanating is from the window above the headboard. The rain patters incessantly againstthe window pane, and Sakura moves to the empty side of the bed, drawing back thecovers.

She pauses, looking at the back of Kakashi’s head where itcreases into the pillow. He was on his side, turned away from Sakura, hisbreathing even, of that of someone in a deep slumber. She is unsurprised, givenhow tired he appeared to be, and Sakura envies how easily he fell asleep. Shewould like to think that the thought of having to share a bed with her wouldhave haunted him as it haunts her.

She finally crawls into bed, tugging up the covers overherself. The smooth sheets were already warm from Kakashi’s residual heat. She stretchesout briefly to enjoy the full extent of it, relishing in the feeling, and thensettles down and resigns herself to try and sleep. Initially, she lays on herback, staring at the ceiling and willing herself to sleep. She attempts to restfor the next half hour, but her mind cannot turn itself off despite theexhaustion seeping into her bones. She turns on her side, angling herselftowards Kakashi. Having him this close, she can smell the musk clinging to himafter a few days on the road. It was unique and earthy, solid and grounding,something that she found relaxing after days’ worth of adrenaline.

She moves slowly, tucking herself closer to his side, savoringin his warmth. She makes sure that she is not close enough to touch but enoughto have to mold herself to the shape in which he slumbers, lest she wake him.

Kakashi’s breathing comes softly, the covers rising andfalling gently with each inhalation. His steady tempo effortlessly guidesSakura, her chest rising and falling to match his own. She feels the drowsinesscreeping in, distinctly taking hold and dragging her down into the depths ofslumber. She barely notices as the world slowly falls into darkness.

-o-

Sakura blinks the sleep out of her eyes and finds Kakashi,very much still unconscious, hair mussed, mouth hanging open ungracefully andred imprints on his cheek, carefree and messy and vulnerable, and shefeels like the ground is rushing up to meet her with how much raw emotion shefeels in this moment. She sometimes forgets how beautiful he looks without hismask. She doesn’t know when he turned to her in their sleep, but they’re closerthan before, their noses almost touching, their breath mingling.

It is peaceful for a moment, and then the next thing sherealizes, she is staring at hazy mismatched eyes.

“Hey,” he calls. His voice always feels like it knockssomething loose inside of her; she pulls back slightly to look at him fully.

“Morning,” she replies, tucking a stray strand of hair behindher ear, suddenly self-conscious.

There’s a moment’s pause, both of them staring at one another,then his lips brush over hers feather-light, teasing, darting in and awaybefore she can fully feel them. It’s maddening, leaving her feeling itchy and hotand – and bothered. She gazes at him wide-eyed, eyes catching the wayhis mouth cants as he pulls away, smug and unaffected.

“What was that for,” she queries in a hushed tone.

Instead of answering, his hand covers hers underneath theblanket. She can feel the creases of his fingers, the calluses at the edges ofhis thumb and forefinger. For a few minutes, they sit in silence, his thumb brushingagainst the back of her hand. It’s relatively comfortable, and Sakura doesn’tfeel the need to fill it with small talk. Then Kakashi lets out a breath andsays, confident and unwavering, “I think you know.”

It’s her that tugs on his hand, that draws him into her, butit’s him that groans against her mouth, hands moving to clutch the back of herhead as if he needs to be grounded – as if he is adrift. As if it’s only herkisses that are keeping him afloat. She finds herself lost to the sound,clutching to his shirt as if it is her lifeline – as if she is trying to holdherself to this earth, as his lips move against hers, as his tongue slides intoher mouth, licking at her teeth and coaxing her own to move against his.

Her neck aches at this angle as she tries to chase hiskisses and extend that delicious friction of their lips meeting and parting. Heshifts the get closer, a knee brushing hers, and it occurs to her all at oncethat there is a polite distance between their bodies, and it is not only unnecessary,but it is unwanted.

Her hands reach out blindly, feeling along the mattress untilshe brushes along his hip and feels the worn cloth beneath her palm. He gaspsagainst her lips at the touch, and she then puts her hands flush against him,against his chest, feeling the heat beneath her palms and the racing beat ofhis heart.

He draws away after what feels like an eternity, chestheaving slightly and that same cocky grin crossing his features.

“Breakfast?” He asks.

Sakura doesn’t know how far they’ve traveled from the Citadel while they were initially unconscious, but she assumes it’s far enough for her captors to feel confident that they do not need to rush to their next destination.

They’ve been in this makeshift camp for most of the afternoon, and it does not look like anyone is particularly in a hurry to keep pressing on.

“Stop struggling,” one of the men murmurs. He’s not a large man, but he carries himself with the kind of confidence that makes people cower. He sits beside her, back pressed against the tree she’s tucked under. One hand rests on his upraised knee, and the other indolently toys with a heavy throwing knife. Around and around, she watches the metal glint.

He’s the first person to speak directly to her, something that’s not a threat or malicious sneer. She doesn’t recognize him as the one she woke to, nor is he one of the original men who captured them back at the Citadel. He has longer hair than the rest, secured away from his face by a low ponytail. The air about him is calm, calmer than the other men in this camp. Most are on edge, but this man appears relaxed, in his element. Sakura doesn’t know if that thought frightens or fascinates her.

“What do you want with us?” She ventures to ask.

He spares her a glance but offers no reply. The throwing knife he was spinning suddenly stops, and he pushes himself up from his sitting position. Once standing, he catches the attention of one of the passing clan members with a nod.

“Keep an eye on her,” the man states calmly and disappears further into camp.

Sakura watches his back as he walks away, how the camp seems to ebb and flow around him, and how specific individuals bow their heads as he passes.

Sakura comes to the inevitable conclusion that this man is the one in charge.

-o-

Traveling as a captive in ceremonial garb soon proves to be a benefit rather than a risk.

She trips over her skirts frequently and slows the lot of them down just enough that Sakura thinks that if Tsunade was able to send out a search party, there might be a chance for them to catch up. She does not get to see her plan to fruition, however, because the same man who was sitting with her yesterday afternoon appears beside her, halting the entire troop.

He stares down his nose at Sakura, his face an expressionless mask. She becomes uneasy under his fixated gaze and fights the unyielding urge to fidget. He bends at the knees, coming to a kneel at her side. From seemingly nowhere, he produces the kunai he seems so fond of. He reaches out with his free hand and gathers the materials of her skirts together.

“Hey, buddy, watch those hands,” she hears Tenten snark. Sakura can hear Ino yelling from behind her gag.

His nose crinkles like he is uncomfortable with the notion of what TenTen is implying. With the knife, he hacks away at the material of her dress, careful enough not to nick her in the process but sloppily enough that her skirts are in tatters and the hem is uneven. He appears content with his task when her calves become visible.

He sheathes the knife and stands, staring at her for a long moment.

“No one is coming for you. That I can promise. Now stop trying to slow us down.”

Foreboding slithers up Sakura’s spine.

He beckons the rest of the group with a nod before they start traveling again.

-o-

Dawn is only a faint promise in the sky by the time they finally reach what Sakura deems as the base of operations.

They have traveled far enough down the mountains that the high canyon walls rise to meet them. It keeps the group wrapped in shadows and hidden from enemy sight. The walls contain multiple alcoves, deep enough to shelter a few people. She notes one larger cave, sitting further from the rest, one that they are leading her towards.

The air outside is still cool at this hour, making the heat that greets them as they climb into the small, enclosed space feel all the more stifling. The smell of so many bodies packed close together, unwashed and bristling with exhaustion, is enough to make Sakura dizzy, and for a moment, she becomes faint.

Bone tired, Sakura is led on dead feet to the closest wall, and she welcomes the press of the cold stone into her back. Her guard must feel that her fatigue outweighs the desire to run because he leaves her to her own devices. It’s not like she would get very far, even if she attempted to. Not with the amount of Uchiha within this cave. She doesn’t know where Ino and TenTen are; they were separated upon their descent into the ravine. Based on their terrain, she surmises they have traveled southeast and are currently somewhere between Quarryquest and Boulderfall.

Too far from the Citadel, she thinks. Too far from the north and the mountains that she calls home.

She watches the group and rests, observing as her captives stack the supplies they're carrying into a pile before parting and making their way to unoccupied corners in the cave. They all slide heavily to the ground, voicing their exhaustion to one another. It serves them right.

A flask is passed around, some pulling longer drafts than others before passing it on. Some wince as the harsh liquid burns its way down their throats, though others take it without so much as a flinch. The two who don’t seem to partake with the rest are the Uchiha whom she believes is ruling this roost, and the man who threatened Tsunade earlier on the morning of her kidnapping.

She feels the envoy has been avoiding her or any direct contact with her. Where others have purposely made her travel difficult, he focused most of his attention on Ino and TenTen instead. She has felt his eyes follow her, however. Like he is captivated by her but appears afraid to approach her. Afraid of what, she does not know.

The other, the leader, does not seem to share the same sentiment. He stares at her openly, though his gaze is shuttered. While some look at her like she is a treasure they have won, he looks at her like she is a puzzle, calculating and inquisitive.

Sakura takes a deep breath and feels it settle into the hollow of her chest. She feels the ever-present crawling cloying claws of anxiety churning in her gut. Her world has been turned upside down in the span of a few days, and the reality of that situation starts to carve its finality into her bones.

She is forced to partake in a quick meal with her captures. They feed her what she believes are the oldest rations in the bunch – dry and fruitless in their taste. When they are finished, Sakura closes her eyes, trying to relax. The only sounds in their cave are breathing, of bodies shifting against the hard-packed earth in search of more comfortable positions. Once or twice, she hears muffled whispers, and a few people come and go from their resting spot, exiting the cavern to partake in their rounds.

Her consciousness sinks into the cracks between wakefulness and sleep, and the white noise of remembrance drowns out the sounds of her captors. The ghosts of her past rise up to haunt her in her daze. The faces of those who lost their lives during the ceremony parade behind her eyelids, some accusing, most of them indifferent. She shies away from them, refusing to let them hold any power over her. Their faces blur, and their voices fade, but guilt is a tricky emotion. It seeps under her skin, drawing her fear to the surface.

Yet the very emotion, her fear, is nothing but a momentary impulse, and it carries no actual weight or expectation. She knows this is not her fault. Struggling for survival has distilled everything into simpler shades, and there will be no middle ground. They are here; they must survive – have to survive. And they will, by any means necessary.

She can do this. She has to do this, needs to, because even after the enormity of what she has survived thus far, so very much was lost.

And she will not lose another damn thing.

With that thought, she welcomes the abyss of sleep.

-o-

The press of something wet and cold to her cheek wakes her a few hours later.

Her eyes blink open, and the world is a blur. A white mass hovers over her, and as her gaze adjusts to her surroundings, Sakura becomes aware that she is face to face with a giant, growling dog.

Panic grips her momentarily, but before she can wriggle away from the beast, a voice cuts through the silence of the cave.

“So, this is the girl everyone is so worked up about?”

Her eyes trail behind the animal to find someone standing there. He holds himself proudly, chest out and hands on his hips. He’s lean, well-muscled, from what she can tell, and she estimates that he is at least a head taller than her. He is dressed in furs much too heavy for this type of climate – which means he was not from The Whisperwood. A clan from The Northreach Wilds, then. He has shaggy brown hair, tan skin, and two identical red stripes running down his face.

“Inuzuka,” she hisses, pressing herself further against the cave wall.

Their new guest barks out a laugh, “You’re a smart one. Akamaru, come.”

At his owner’s command, the dog sits back on its hind legs, but the growling does not cease. It eyes Sakura like she is its next meal, and she fights down the impulse to squirm under their dual gaze.

“Kiba,” someone calls from the opposite side of the cavern. Emerald eyes slide to clash onyx. Her head captor comes into view, nonchalant in his stance.

“Itachi,” the Inuzuka – Kiba, she corrects – greets. Itachi Uchiha. So that was his name. She has heard that name before. Where has she heard that name before?

“The first heir to the Uchiha clan?” Sakura asks aloud, remembering the family tree tucked away in the pages of one of the tomes she had read on the clans last year. “You mean to tell me the Uchiha clan sent their heir to kidnap a member of the Citadel?”  

Kiba whistles, a low, sultry tune. “Two for two, Pinkie. Not that I would expect anything less from Tsunade’s little pet.”

Her eyes narrow at his nickname, and fury boils low in her belly. “Watch your tone, dog.”

Kiba’s smug and teasing demeanor melts away, giving way to anger. He growls, sounding like his canine companion, and clenches his hands at his sides. He takes a menacing step towards her, then another, before his path is cut off by Itachi, who steps gracefully between them. Itachi places a hand on Kiba’s chest and pushes him back a step.

“Leave her be,” is all the long-haired Uchiha states.

Kiba’s eyes never stray from Sakura’s face, and she can see his frustration at being stopped, the ire at her comment, and something that tells Sakura that their little verbal spar will be far from forgotten. She does not know what he is capable of, but she has heard the Inuzuka clan are relentless in their torment of others and messy in their way of fighting. It’s how they put on a show. They attack in droves, like a pack of wild animals, easily outnumbering many villages in strength and numbers. She has not seen the aftermath of one of their raids with her own eyes, but she remembers Tsunade getting a verbal report on it from one of the traveling merchants that had come to the Citadel to trade wares. Not one survivor left, and the village had been burned to the ground.

After what feels like a small eternity, Kiba relaxes his stance. He runs a hand through his hair, and then that arrogant smirk returns.  

“You’ve got more fight in you than I expected,” Kiba says, almost proudly. “Then again, so did your mentor right before Akamaru took a bite out of her.”

It was Sakura’s turn to snarl. She pushes herself off the cave wall and attempts to get her legs underneath her. She doesn’t make it very far because the dog – Akamaru, as Kiba has been calling him – sits back up and barks. A warning. She stops mid-couch, hands still tied behind her back, and moves not an inch further. She flashes a glower in the Inuzuka’s direction.

“You lie,” she spits.  “My mentor would never fall to the likes of you and that mutt.”

“Enough of this,” Itachi’s voice cuts in, raised to a higher volume than she has seen within the last few days. Kiba looks like he is about to retaliate, but one glance from Itachi stops him dead in his tracks.

“Shisui,” Itachi calls, and suddenly there is a second Uchiha by his side. She recognizes him as the envoy and the same man who has been avoiding being within a five-foot radius of her since she has been taken. “Take her and put her with the others. I need a report from Kiba on the attack.”

Shisui looks uncomfortable with the request but does not challenge his heir on the granted task. He pushes past the other two men, grabs Sakura under her arm, and hauls her to her feet. She wobbles unsteadily for a second, but with Shisui’s help, she doesn’t fall flat on her ass. Once she is stable and standing on her own, he leads her out of the cave.

-o-

“You’re the same one from the nightly prayer,” Sakura states. It comes out more like an accusation, and this man flinches as if it were one. “You’re also the envoy that came to beg for help the morning you kidnapped us.”

He doesn’t agree or disagree. He keeps his hand steady on her elbow, guiding her into the cool morning air. She shivers once, adjusting to the new temperature, and he leads her down into the canyon a little further, towards a cluster of stone alcoves.

“What do you want with us anyway?” Sakura continues to speak. “You can’t expect us to believe that you’re kidnapping healers just to help with the war. It’s redundant to seek help from those you intend to harm.”

“We don’t intend to harm you,” he finally answers.

“Then what do you want from us? Why go through all of this? We won’t help you, not willingly.”

Shisui sighs, and he observes her from the corner of his eye. Sakura would say that he looks almost remorseful for their actions, but she knows that cannot be true. It must be a trick of the light, as her eyes haven’t fully adjusted to the morning sun.

“Your gift is something special,” he states. “Something that should be shared with people.”

“We do share it,” she counters. “We share it with anyone in need. That is what the Citadel was built for.”

“But not with us,” Shisui corrects.

“It’s not for war,” she amends. “We heal those who are victims of your conflict, not aid the ones who are fighting.”

His stride slows down a fraction, and Shisui looks like he is warring his own internal struggle. His lips part like he is about to say something, but then they snap shut. She can hear the click of his teeth and sees his jaw tense, but he doesn’t directly reply. As they venture closer to the alcoves, she can see other Uchiha lining the entryways, but more are standing in front of the cave in the middle. Ino and TenTen must be in that one.

“We need your gift,” he says as they arrive. “For more than just the battles or the fighting. We have something we need your skills for, and you’re the only one besides your mentor who can help us.”

“And what is that exactly?” She inquires, brow raised.

“Just keep an open mind,” is all he declares, avoiding her question entirely. He passes her off to the other Uchiha without so much as a backward glance.

-o-

“Are you alright?” Ino asks when she is pushed to a sitting position in the cave.  The guards leave the three of them to their own devices, choosing to stand outside the cavern’s entrance than be in their company. Sakura doesn’t know how Ino convinced them to un-gag her, but she is glad to hear her friend’s voice.

“I’m fine,” Sakura assures. “What about you two?”

“A few bruises but nothing permanent,” TenTen replies.

All three wiggle in close to one another, needing the comfort of personal contact. As she presses her shoulder into Ino’s, Sakura sighs and feels the warmth of TenTen’s thigh against her own.

After a moment of companionable silence, Sakura questions, “Have you been able to piece together anything?”

“They attacked the Citadel,” TenTen murmurs quietly. “We haven’t been able to hear much in terms of details, but the skirmish left several on our side and their side dead. The guards have been talking about it all day.”

Ino nods as if affirming that information, then states, “There were two teams, one that attacked the Citadel and another that came after us when the ceremony started. The distraction of the attack is how we got taken without anyone noticing.”

“The Inuzuka are working with the Uchiha,” Sakura adds. “I just had a run-in with one of them.”

“The northern beast-men tribe?” Ino asks, astounded.

Sakura hums her confirmation. “There’s more. The heir to the Uchiha clan is here. He’s the one calling the shots.”

“They sent the heir to kidnap someone from the Citadel?” TenTen questions, tone disbelieving.

Sakura snorts. “I asked that very same question.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tenten replies. “The clans have never been interested in Tsunade or our healers. Their war has been going on for years.”

Ino scrunches her nose, jutting out her chin. “We would never get involved with their conflict to begin with.”

Sakura nudges the blonde’s shoulder gently. “No, we wouldn’t,” she assures, calming Ino. “How many days has it been since we’ve been taken?”

“Almost three,” TenTen answers. “Two full nights, and we’re approaching the third. They’ve been leading us southeast.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Sakura remarks. “They’re leading us towards Quarryquest.”

Ino repeats, “Quarryquest? That’s not near their lands. Their lands are to the south, near the Riveria Woods.”

“I know that, Pig,” Sakura grumbles in return. “I don’t know why they’re keeping us north of our destination. Unless they don’t plan to take us back to their village.”

“There is someone else. They keep talking about her,” TenTen chimes in.  “Another girl. One of the guards was saying something about how her party was late to arrive. They were supposed to meet us here.”

“Another healer?” Asks Sakura, but TenTen shrugs her shoulders.

“They could have possibly kidnapped another girl from one of the villages nearby. It’s not unheard of for healers to live outside the Citadel. Rare but not entirely unlikely,” Ino reminds them.

“Tsunade would have traveled to the village if she caught wind of it. I’m surprised that person wasn’t brought to the school,” Sakura mumbles under her breath, lost in the thought of another healer being brought to camp.

TenTen asserts, “Maybe she isn’t born with a gift. Maybe they want her for another purpose.”

It’s Ino’s turn to snort. “I highly doubt that.”

“What could they possibly want with all of us?” Sakura ventures.

“What they want with you,” TenTen corrects primly. “I think we’re just collateral damage.”  

“I second that,” Ino interjects.

“I do know one thing,” Sakura says. “We are in this together. Until the very end.”

TenTen and Ino nod their agreement.

-o-

After that, things quieted down for a while; each one was lost in their thoughts. Sakura chooses to spend the time trying to relax, to prepare for what is to come, but rest eludes her for the remainder of the morning. More often than not, the slightest noise or a pass of one of the guards jerks her awake. The canyon bakes within the midday sun, and the humid heat enveloping the cave makes it hard to unwind fully. She would like to keep her senses sharp, but the lack of stimulus and her exhaustion from not sleeping most of the last three days makes it somewhat tricky. They are fed a simple meal of rationed water and granola bars midway through the day, but other than that, the majority of the Uchiha leave them be.

If she cannot rest, she will observe and listen and gather as much information about their situation as possible. She cannot hope to be rescued. She knows that wishing for anything is foolish – hope is an illusionary thing at best and cruel at worst. She has learned the utter futility of prayers, especially after residing at the Citadel for most of her life.

The guards mostly talk about the kidnapping and that night’s skirmish that left many of them dead and even more broken. She has a swell of pride in the thought of her home and its defenses. They also talk about their missing party members and how they are a day late to arrive. Some speculate that they are not coming at all; others make it seem like they are only delayed because they’re traveling to the ravine from the east, and the terrain is not easy to traverse on a good day, let alone with a captive.

Sakura doesn’t see the Itachi, Kiba, or Shisui that afternoon. She keeps a specific lookout for any of them, for a familiar face that she can question, but they never arrive. She might not get any information from Itachi or Kiba, but she feels that Shisui will break if she tries hard enough. He seemed to be the easiest of the three to communicate with.

When the sun starts to set below the horizon, there is a commotion outside their alcove. At first, there is yelling, and a wave of apprehension seems to still the majority of the guards, then some of the clan members run past their alcove to the entrance to the ravine. There’s more commotion, orders being barked, and Sakura hears a distinctly female voice above the rest.

“You’ll regret this,” the voice growls, the unveiled threat evident in their tone.

“Trust me, we already do,” one of the Uchiha replies, annoyed. “Not be quiet, or you’ll be gagged again.”

There’s more verbal sparring as the voices grow closer to their shared space, then shadows fill the entryway. TenTen perks up from her position, interested in the commotion, but Ino remains lax at Sakura’s side. The blonde hasn’t said much within the last few hours, which under normal circumstances would concern Sakura, but given their current situation, she is not surprised that Ino is so lost within her own musings.

After a scuffle of movement and a shift of bodies, a girl is deposited into the cave. She is tossed half on TenTen, causing the brunette to hiss in pain as her legs are squished. While gathering her bearings, Sakura takes a moment to assess their new arrival.

She has flaming red hair, a petite frame, and dark-rimmed glasses covering most of her face. She is dressed in odd clothing, something not from this region. She has male breeches on, though they appear loose fitting, flowy, like a martial artist’s pants rather than a traveler or a villager. She’s also wearing a plain cotton top, lavender in color, with a black swirling pattern stitched into both sleeves. The clothing is too big, hanging heavily off her frame.

Before Sakura can scrutinize anything further, their newcomer speaks up.

“What are you staring at, Pinkie?”

Ino kicks out her foot in retaliation for the nickname. “Watch the way you speak to her, Red.”

“Enough with the nicknames, for Christ’s sake,” TenTen intervenes, attempting to quell the brewing storm. When everyone seems to take a collective breath, she asks, “Who are you? What’s your name?”

The woman seems initially uncomfortable with the question, and for a moment, Sakura thinks that she isn’t going to answer, but eventually, she speaks.

“I’m Karin,” she declares. “Karin Uzumaki.”

-o-

“Kidnapping a member of a rival clan seems low, even for the Uchiha,” Sakura observes.

“They’re kidnapping healers,” Karin snidely amends.

“No shit,” Ino replies.

TenTen shoots the blonde a scowl, and Ino rolls her eyes in retaliation. They glare at each other, but Ino’s shoulders slump slightly after a moment, signaling that the fight has left her for the time being.

Sakura raises a brow, her attention solely on Karin. “So, what? You’re saying that you’re a healer?”

“The only one in my village,” Karin answers, her pride evident.

“And where is that exactly?” Sakura asks.

She eyes Sakura after her question, seemingly gauging whether to disclose the truth or not. Their group must pass her internal test because Karin answers honestly after a moment’s hesitance. “Depends on the day. We move around quite a bit, given the circumstances.”

“You said you’re a member of the Uzumaki clan,” TenTen states. “Does that mean you know why the Uchiha are taking healers?”

Ino cuts in. “They took us because they need healers for their war,” she snarks. “What else could they possibly want Sakura for.”

Karin ignores the blonde’s comment and turns her attention towards TenTen. “She’s not wrong, you know. They do need healers. Healers amongst the clans are unheard of. Not only is it difficult to find due to our skill being rare among traditional bloodlines, but that master of yours has a habit of snatching up as many as she possibly can.”

“Watch the way you speak about Tsunade,” Ino growls.

“Ino, enough already,” Sakura snaps. She presses herself close to the blonde, nudging her harshly with her shoulder. “She’s not the enemy here. Last time I checked, we’re all prisoners. Settle down.”

Ino grinds her teeth, gnashing them together, but she doesn’t vocalize her frustration further. Content that her friend will not interfere any longer, Sakura turns her attention back to Karin.

“If they’re taking healers for the war, why kidnap multiple?” Sakura voices her confusion. “Though both of your clans are large in numbers, one prominent healer would be enough to care for an entire clan. Maybe two. They have three of us so far, and who knows how many more they will try and grab. So what do they gain with all of us?”

Karin quirks her head to the side and asks, “Have you heard nothing about the plague that haunts the Uchiha?”

All three mime one another, looking confused, and shake their heads in unison.

Karin smirks, knowing and cocky. Sakura becomes aware that this is most likely a staple in her personality.

“Those red eyes of theirs are a curse,” Karin starts. She nestles herself against the wall, grunting as she gets into a more comfortable position next to TenTen. “Did you notice that some of the Uchiha have red eyes?”

“Shisui’s eyes were red when we first met him,” Sakura murmurs. “But they were black earlier this morning.”

“It’s their gift,” Karin adds. “Like how we have a gift for healing. They have a gift passed down in their clan. It’s called the Sharingan. However, their gift comes with a price. The longer they use their power, the bigger the burden it causes their eyes.”

“Then why use it at all?” Ino inquires, breaking her silence.

Karin lifts one of her shoulders, letting it drop heavily. “It causes them to have the ability like foresight. They gain extreme perceptive abilities, but they can also copy the techniques of their opponents by merely watching them. There is a long list of reasons why their Sharingan is an extremely feared power. It’s a bitch to go up against in battle. However, it causes the user to go blind after a certain amount of time.”

“It causes them to go blind?” TenTen parrots. “What good is a skill that harms the user?”

“A severely coveted one. I’m not sure how it works, but there is a strain on the ocular muscles, and eventually, the user goes blind.”

“You think they took us to help them with the curse, don’t you?” Sakura asks.

Karin smiles, wide and toothy. “I know they did. They didn’t need this many healers for the war. They could have settled with just one of us. But to have three? They need us for something else.”

There’s a bout of companionable silence, Sakura, Ino, and TenTen processing the information shared.

If that were the case, then the Uchiha would have been planning this raid for a significant amount of time. And Sakura comes to the inevitable conclusion that Tsunade must have known about this curse of theirs. This was most likely not the first time they had called on her mentor for help, but it seemed that it would be the last time they asked kindly. They must have been desperate at this point to go as far as to kidnap someone from the school.

“Why take someone from a rival clan, though?” Sakura asks, breaking the silence. “It seems counterproductive to the cause.”

“I was away on a mission by myself,” Karin states. “There is a village east of here with a horrible bout of illness. Our leader sent me there to check things out and help as best as possible. I was doing well for a few weeks, dressed as plainly as I could, didn’t stick out, tried to blend in, but it seems the Uchiha still caught wind of a healer in the village.”

“That doesn’t answer why they took you, though,” Ino points out.

“Who knows why,” Karin says with a shrug. “Another healer is another healer. I don’t even know if they are aware that I’m an Uzumaki.”

“They know,” Sakura states, confident in her assessment. “The one in charge, Itachi, doesn’t seem like the type to do things half-assed. He knows exactly whom his team took.”

Karin hums. “Maybe so, but they don’t realize the repercussions of what it means to take an Uzumaki.”

“Or members of the Citadel,” Ino interjects, chin raised.

And that’s when it starts.

It’s subtle at first. The quakes are nothing more than small vibrations. They could be chalked up to the enormity of people wandering around within the caverns. When they reach a magnitude where the ground starts shaking and pieces of debris start falling from the walls and ceiling, Sakura becomes aware that something else is happening.

“What the hell?” TenTen questions before yelling resonates from the ravine outside.

From what she can see, Uchiha are scrambling in every direction, some yelling for backup and others barking orders to keep guard around Sakura. It seems TenTen was right in her assertion. Sakura was the one they were looking to keep. Ino and Karin were expendable, it seems. What sounds like an explosion echoes throughout the ravine, and Sakura is thrown forward from her position, landing on Karin’s legs. The alcove shakes and groans with the strain on the rocks, and more dust and rubble settle on the four of them.

“Took them long enough,” the redhead states exasperatedly.

“What is happening,” Sakura screeches, looking up at Karin.

Sakura could play dumb, deny that she wasn't thinking about coming up with an excuse that would lead to her inevitable escape. She knows Ino wouldn’t fall for it though, so she doesn’t offer any type of apology and keeps her head held high. Unfortunately, now that the topic has been openly addressed, it doesn’t merely end with Ino’s brusque and portentous command. It’s now time for everyone at the table to give their two cents. TenTen is the first to voice her opinion on the matter.

"Oh, leave her alone, will you Ino? She just misses her man, and I can't say that I blame her."

A hot flush of embarrassment crawls its way up Sakura’s neck, staining her chest and cheeks crimson. She buries her face in both of her hands and groans softly, trying to keep the sullen note out of her cry, but it’s to no avail. It sounds pathetic even to her own ears.

"TenTen!" This time it’s Hinata who cuts in.

"What!?" Tenten exclaims, and it sounds almost remorseful – almost.

Sakura raises her head just enough to level TenTen with a baleful glare between her splayed fingers. The brunette takes this as a challenge, however, and meets Sakura’s soured look with a matching one of her own.

TenTen tosses her arms open, looks around the table, and challenges the entire group with, “Someone tell me I'm wrong! Go on!”

She's not wrong. Sakura knows it, TenTen knows it, Ino and Hinata and everyone else within their friend group, even those who weren’t present, know it.

However, Sakura would rather not be faced with the uncomfortably awkward topic that is her current relationship status. Nor does she want to hear Ino harp on what she firmly believes is the right course of action for Sakura to take. They’ve gone through this same scenario a handful of times now and it has only ever lead to one thing: an argument.

When no one raises to her taunt, Ino – shockingly – included, TenTen drops her hands into her lap, sitting further back in her chair with an air of triumph. Her eyes drift over to Sakura, who has now fully come out of her hiding spot and offers her a small, delicate smile.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Sakura. A few years back, when I had that internship in Suna, I was forced to leave Neji behind. It was hard. Really hard. I went from living with my boyfriend and seeing him every day, to a phone call or maybe a FaceTime, three times a week. I missed him so much, and I didn’t give two shits about who knew it or not. You’re allowed to miss him, Sakura."

Sakura considers her words, feels somewhat pacified by them, enough so to let her shoulders droop. She runs a hand through her hair, twirling the ends between her pointer and middle fingers.  

"Oh please," Ino mutters narrowly. It’s dry and mocking and oh so condescending and immediately Sakura is put on the edge.

And this is precisely why Sakura was worried to begin with: the judgment.

Best friends are there to keep you grounded, to slap you with the harsh reality of any situation. Ino and Sakura are no exception to those rules. They worry about one another, take care of each other, and Sakura wouldn’t have it any other way. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean Sakura wants to hear about what Ino believes she is at fault for.

Especially right now.

She would rather not get read the third degree about her current relationship in a shady ass bar on the outskirts of town, who's main populace is bikers. But, like clockwork, Ino doesn’t disappoint. Her judgment is harsh and swift.

"You guys are blowing this whole thing out of proportion. They aren't even really dating. It’s not a real relationship. There's nothing for her to miss.”

And that is…well, that is the real brunt of the issue, isn’t it?

Again, Sakura rather not deal with this under the influence of alcohol, but Ino’s words are like a hard slap to the face. Sakura isn’t about to sit back and let her pick apart what little happiness she’s managed to cling onto. Anger flashes hot in her blood and Sakura grits out her retort before she even has a chance to think about it.

“And you’re the expert how? Like your relationship with Genma is so picture perfect. How’s Kurenai? I’ve heard she and Genma have been spending a lot of time together recently."

Her words are snappish and harsh, and the entire thing comes off a lot more confrontational and abrasive then Sakura intends. But she’s pissed off and upset with what Ino has been saying over the last couple of weeks. Sakura knows it’s a lie. A downright dirty lie that isn’t even based on some semblance of the truth, but then again, Sakura doesn’t need it to be true; she needs it to wound. That small, dark, vindictive side of her wants Ino to hurt just a fraction as much as she hurts right now.

The funny thing about revenge though, that spitefulness and greed, is that it’s like a plume of smoke. It’s there, it’s tangible and real, but when you reach out for it, you’re grasping at nothing but air. It’s fleeting, just like the smug pride that puffs out Sakura’s chest just a handful of seconds before Ino’s face falls.

That’s when Sakura knows she’s fucked up.

Sakura immediately scrambles to try and correct her mistake. She leans across the table, reaching for Ino, but the blonde evades her gasp by pushing back in her chair and standing up from the table.

“I need another drink,” Ino announces bleakly. Without waiting for anyone to comment, she spins on her heels and walks over to the bar.

There’s a beat of silence, then the sound of another chair scraping against the wooden floor is heard.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” TenTen jokes as she stands, but it falls flat. Her eyes soften as she takes in the stricken expression that has crossed Sakura’s face. She pats Sakura’s shoulder once, then twice, lips curling into a lopsided smile. “Don’t worry about her. She just needs some time to cool off. You’re both so hot-headed and stubborn sometimes. I’m surprised you two don’t come to blows more often.”

The lighthearted remark causes the corner of Sakura’s mouth to twitch, but the smile doesn’t hold. TenTen takes it as a victory anyway.

There’s a loud holler from across the room, and all three pairs of eyes search for the source of the interruption. None of them are all that surprised to find Ino sitting on a bar stool, surrounded by the group of bikers, shot glasses raised in the air in salute.

“I’m going to go make sure she doesn’t drink herself silly,” TenTen states, amusement apparent. Hinata buries her fit of giggles behind her hand and Sakura’s smirk is a tad rueful. “Be back in a bit.”

Sakura watches as TenTen treks across the room, skillfully maneuvering past one of the men that tries to put an arm around her. She smoothly sidles up next to Ino, occupying the bar stool beside her. Sakura observes them talking for a bit, sees them both laugh at a joke that TenTen tells, and releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She turns her attention back to their table and is surprised to find Hinata’s pale eyes surveying her.

“TenTen is right you know,” the quiet woman declares. “Just give her some time. She’ll get over it.”

Sakura hums her agreement, head nodding slowly, almost absentmindedly. “I know she means well. It doesn’t excuse what I said, though.”

Hinata offers a nod of her own. “No, it doesn’t. Then again, that’s what friends are for. We’re used to the good and the bad, the highs and the lows. We forgive one another, even for hurtful words.”

The table falls silent after that and Sakura takes the time to mull over the entire situation, teeth digging into the flesh of her bottom lip. She becomes lost in thought for a while, not that Hinata seems to mind. It’s her cell phone ringing that breaks her from her trance. Sakura looks down at the device just as Kakashi’s face lights up her screen.

Instinctively, Sakura hits the mute button, cutting off the cheery chime of her ringtone.  She glances at Hinata, who’s is pleasantly occupied with watching Sakura’s phone light up again with another incoming call.

Brow arched, Hinata probes, “Are you going to answer that?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Sakura affirms and toggles her gaze from the tabletop to the other side of the bar to where TenTen and Ino are still occupied.

The unspoken reason why Sakura won’t answer Kakashi’s call hangs in the air between them. Sakura can feel Hinata’s stare drilling a hole into the side of her head, and she mentally prepares herself for another verbal lashing. However, the question that comes out of Hinata’s mouth is the complete opposite of what Sakura expects.

“You look pale. Do you feel dizzy or sick at all?”

“What?”

“I said,” Hinata reiterates with some emphasis. “Do you feel dizzy at all? Like you need some air? It’s probably because of all the smoke in the room. Maybe you should go out back and take a few minutes to collect yourself.”

Sakura stares, and stares, and stares; brows drawn down and lips parted in her confusion. It takes longer than Sakura would like to admit – and Hinata clearing her throat, looking pointedly at Sakura’s cellphone and awkwardly jerking her chin in the direction of the hallway that leads to the alley out back – but, revelation finally dawns.

Hinata is giving her an out.

They both know that Ino wouldn’t let Sakura hear the end of it if she were to leave unannounced, especially after everything that has occurred, but under the guise of needing some air…well, that just might work.

Without another word, Sakura stands from the table, phone in hand, and beelines for the back exit. The door hasn’t even closed fully behind her before Sakura has her phone tucked between her shoulder and the side of her face, the dial tone blaring in her ear.

The night air is humid and somewhat sticky but not so unbearable with the soft breeze blowing through the alleyway. She finds herself nervously pacing, waiting for him to answer. He picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hey,” He greets in that calm, cool tenor, albeit somewhat breathless.

At the sound of his voice, the entire world around her ceases to exist. It halts and melts away until there is nothing left but her and him.

“Hey, yourself,” She returns, fighting back an elated smile. Sakura stops walking around in circles and presses herself against the brick wall next to the bar’s back door. She untucks the phone from her chin, holding it to her ear with her right hand. “Sorry I missed your calls before, I’m actually –”

Her explanation is cut short by the sound of a dog barking in the background on Kakashi’s line.

“Is that Pakkun?” She asks, bemused.

Kakashi chuckles. The sound causes warmth to bloom in Sakura’s chest. She loves that sound.

“Yeah, it is. It’s like he knows when I’m talking to you. Hey Pakkun, you wanna say ‘hi’ to Sakura?”

There’s more barking on the other end of the line and Sakura makes a few cooing noises into the receiver. They both laugh when Pakkun howls his own greeting.

“So,” he hums. “How was your day?”

She doesn’t tell him about the argument with Ino, nor does she tell him that she has snuck away from her friends and found solace in the alley behind Konoha’s local watering hole. Instead, they talk about everything and nothing. He tells her about a new podcast that he’s been listening to recently, and she fills him in on some of the cases that she has taken over at the hospital.  Sakura is overly pleased to be speaking with him, so much so, that she loses track of time.

When Ino barrels through the back door on unsteady feet, Sakura squeaks in surprise. Ino whips her head around at the noise, taking in the scene with bleary, unfocused eyes.

“Sakura?” Kakashi calls. He sounds worried and Sakura does her best to try and not be too delighted by that. She shouldn’t be ecstatic that he’s panicking over her. “Is everything alright?”

“Uh…yeah. Everything is fine, Kakashi,” Sakura assures, knowing that it won’t placate him in the slightest. “I’ve got to go, though. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

He clears his throat, and there’s a rustle on the other side of the line like he’s moving around. Sakura can tell that Kakashi is a bit put off by her abrupt end to their conversation by the way he begrudgingly replies with, “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll call you after work tomorrow.”

Sakura offers her goodbyes and goodnights, then hangs up the phone and pushes off the wall before sliding the device into the back pocket of her jeans. A hushed stillness descends on the alley, thick and stifling, but Sakura wisely chooses to let Ino take the lead on whatever is about to play out.

Ino breaks the ice with a slurred, “You know I didn’t mean what I said before, right?”

Sakura dips her chin towards her chest and offers a wan, but apologetic smile. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry for what I said also.” She peeks out at Ino from underneath her lashes. “Forgive me?”

“Forgiven,” Ino confirms with a solemn nod. She wanders over to where Sakura is standing and leans against the wall on one shoulder.  “I’m just concerned about you, Forehead. I’ve never seen you like this with a guy before. Well…not since Sasuke.”

At Sakura’s hate-filled glower, Ino throws her hands up in a placating gesture, but her grin is impish. “Okay, okay, bad joke. I’m sorry. Seriously though, boyfriend or not, you care about Kakashi. Why don’t you tell him how you feel or, at least, talk things out? Why are you both okay with this weird ‘we should be dating, but we don’t like to be adults and address our feelings’ thing that you two have going on?”

And that is the million-dollar question, isn’t it?

Why is she so afraid to tell Kakashi how she feels?

Everything about Kakashi fascinates her; from his explosive wit, to the flirtatious way he touches her, to the way he let her read over his shoulder when he is nose deep in those smutty books of his.

His smiles always reach his eyes, and he never minces his words. He isn’t afraid to break out a sarcastic quip or a tactless comment, even if the situation doesn’t call for it. Sakura understands he is quiet when he has nothing to say, and that it is often mistaken for aloofness. The more time she spends with him, the more she can read his moods, and it seems…he lives his life freely. There is no careful containment of his emotions, no order to his chaos. He doesn’t care if he is offensive or nice. Kakashi is Kakashi, not someone else’s idea of what he should be.

Sakura had been envious of him when she first met him. It must be nice, she remembers thinking. No restrictions. No expectations. No fear.

It’s what drew her to him in the first place.

Their romance wasn’t some whirlwind. There was no love at first sight, no candlelit dinners, or carving a heart with their initials into the bark of some tree.

No, Kakashi and Sakura started their relationship ass-backward. Cue one very sloppy, drunken one-night stand that left them both embarrassed, unsatisfied, and hoping that they would never cross paths again.

Unfortunately for both of them, their liberal arts college had a requirement that all freshman needed to take a welcoming seminar. The point of the class was to assist them with the transition from a high school environment to that of a university. It was a bullshit class, an easy A to put on her transcript, something that should have gone off without a hitch. However, when she came to class on that first day and found out that her partner was the guy who she slept with on a whim, two nights prior, things had gotten a little uncomfortable.

It hadn’t been easy. Kakashi was just as thrown off by the circumstances as she was, and they tiptoed around one another consistently, walking on eggshells. Neither wanting to address what happened, but the issue weighing heavy on both of their shoulders. She brought him coffee one morning, about three weeks in, and that seemed to help ease the tension. They worked together to the best of their combined abilities from there on out.

And when the semester came to a close, they just kind of…stuck together.

She couldn’t tell when it happened.

When had late night cram sessions and take-out and passing encouraging messages written on review notes turned into this? When had their usual brand of camaraderie turned into something that could mean so much more? 

She can't place that moment in time where their relationship shifted from exchanging inappropriate comments in the lounge of their dorm building to this deep sense of companionship.

Because Kakashi Hatake? Well, she felt something for him – something completely and undeniably real — a kind of kinship; a connection; a sense of belonging, like they were two people who, at their bare bones, understood each other. But she didn’t know if she has earned the right to feel that way, especially about him.

What she is sure about though, is that Kakashi has always been there. Since that first night at the party, throughout all four years; the ups and the downs, the good and the really, really bad – like that one incident where a professor accused her of plagiarizing her midterm paper – Kakashi has always been by her side, and that was more than Sakura could ever hope to ask for.

Kakashi wasn’t her first choice in a man, nor was he her second or even her third, but no one else in her life was as concerned about the little things like he was. He texted her to remind her to eat on her busier days, dropped off notes when she was sick and couldn't make it to lectures, and was even open to being the designated driver on the nights that they went out. He was a pain in the ass most of the time, like a nagging mother, but he was her pain in the ass, and one of her best friends.

When graduation came along, and Kakashi was offered a position in an up and coming law firm in Iwa, she encouraged him to go with a smile.

And after he left, Sakura tried to put her pieces back together because that’s what you do when someone you love leaves. You pick up the pieces and make them work again, somehow.

And yet.

And yet…she really fucking misses him, and there is nothing that she can do to fill that void. His presence in her life is unmistakably irreplaceable, and she knows that he feels it too. All this unspoken shit that continues to grow between them needs to be addressed, but a phone call or a video chat isn’t the proper way to handle it.

He deserves better. They deserve better.

“I don’t know, Ino,” Sakura murmurs dejectedly, breaking herself from her train of thought. “I really don’t know.”

Ino pushes off the wall, flicks her ponytail over her shoulder, then gives Sakura a long perusal from head to toe. She huffs, throws an arm around Sakura’s shoulders, and with all the overzealous flare and dramatics of an inebriated person – which includes a lot of strange hand motions and head bobbing – proceeds to tell Sakura all the reasons why she needs to ‘man up' and 'tell that bastard how you really feel'.

By the end of Ino's rant, Sakura doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or to cry, maybe a combination of the two, but she does feel better about the entire Kakashi situation and where she and Ino stand on it.

"Seriously, Forehead," Ino states. "What am I going to do with you? Your love life is a mess. I thought I raised you better than this."

Sakura responds with an unladylike snort and nudges Ino's side with her shoulder.

"I don't know about my love life, but I do know that I could use a drink. Let's head back inside. I want to be on your level by the end of the night."

"Fuck yes! This calls for shots!"

-⇞-

October 15th, 2018

“Sakura, will you please put your phone away and help us? I’m struggling over here!”

Naruto’s whine goes unheard and unnoticed by Sakura. She instead focuses on holding her camera steady, lining up the perfect shot to capture a photo of an absurdly robust pumpkin in the middle of the patch. It takes a minute or two, but she finally snaps a picture that she likes. Sakura swipes right on the touch screen a few times, finds a filter that makes the entire photo pop with color and adds a silly, little gif-sticker of a person dancing in a pumpkin costume to the bottom right corner.

Sakura posts the photo to her Snapchat story, sends Kakashi an individual copy, then shoves her phone into her sweatshirt pocket.

When she turns back towards Naruto and Sasuke, they are both leveling her with varying looks of contempt – though, to Sasuke’s credit, that’s his typical facial expression. He looks more bored than pissed off.

“What?” She asks innocently.

Sasuke grunts and shakes his head, but doesn't say anything. He rearranges his arms more securely around the two pots of mums he has in his hands and then pushes past Naruto, cutting his way across the field and into the parking lot.

Sakura rolls her eyes and closes the distance between herself and Naruto, taking one of the pumpkins awkwardly balanced within his grasp. He releases a sigh of relief at her assistance, adjusts the two remaining gourds in his grip and starts to take off after Sasuke, Sakura falling into step beside him.

Most of their walk is in companionable silence; Naruto occupied with making sure he doesn't drop the pumpkins they paid a pretty penny for, and Sakura content with watching hordes of children running around the grounds with their parents hot on their heels.

They are halfway to the car when Naruto ventures to ask, "Where has your mind been all day? You've done nothing but check your phone every five minutes."

Sakura nearly trips at his question, boots scuffing along the gravel. Thankfully she doesn't harm or destroy her precious cargo.

"I have not!" She tries to deny, but Naruto is giving her that look. It's the same look that Ino gives her whenever they've broached the same topic over the last couple of days. It's the 'you're-not-fucking-fooling-me-now-spill-it' look. Sometimes, Sakura swears that her friends are all conspiring against her.

She tries to think of the best way to explain it. It's not like she's kept Kakashi as a dirty little secret from Naruto and Sasuke. It's just...well, given the history that she shares with her two childhood friends, it is a bit uncomfortable. How do you address your dating life to the two overprotective lugs who have chased away most of your romantic prospects over the years? Especially when one of those lugs used to be a romantic prospect?

"It's that guy from undergrad, isn't it? What was his name again? Hatake, right?"

Both Naruto and Sakura look up at the sound of Sasuke's voice. He's leaning against the bumper of Naruto's beat up pickup truck, arms crossed, looking all the bit off-put as he usually does.

"Is that true?" Naruto quires, turning from Sasuke to Sakura, head comically cocked to one side like a confused puppy.

She bristles, but it's not out of embarrassment at being caught red-handed. It's out of general annoyance that Sasuke always seems to know what's going on in her life even before she does.

"How the hell do you know that?" Sakura snaps, the inquiry clipped and measured.

Sasuke smirks. It's that trademark, 'I'm-an-insufferable-bastard- and-I-know-everything' simper that, once upon a time, Sakura turned into a pile of mush over. To this day, she looks back on her high school self and wonders what caused her to think Sasuke Uchiha was the bee's knees.

"It's not like you're hiding it very well," Sasuke explains, his dull tone matching his flat affect. "You two were close in university. Freakishly, attached-at-the-hip close. You constantly talk about him or bring him up in conversation, and you don’t even realize it. It’s like it’s natural for you to talk about him. Plus...," If possible Sasuke's smile grows all the more condescending. "He's your top best friend on Snapchat."

“Ohhh,” Naturo screeches, excitement mounting. “You know what that means!”

Embarrassment tickles along the expanse of the back of her neck, hot and apparent. Sakura scowls, gritting her teeth and tries to ignore the sudden rise in her body temperature.

"What are you, my stalker now?"

Her jibe doesn't garner her the reaction that she would have preferred. Sasuke outright disregards her and Naruto bursts into a fit of giddy snickers. Sakura somehow finds herself once again overcome with the shocking realization that these two idiots are like brothers to her. Two brothers that are pushing her into dangerous territory. The ‘were-gonna-talk-about-the-birds-and-the-bees’ territory and Sakura is not sure she wants to have this conversation once again in so few weeks.

Turning her nose up, Sakura strides over to the back of the truck and tosses the pumpkin she was carrying over the lip of the bed. Sasuke and Naruto’s combined bemusement follows her as she makes her way to the passenger side door, but Sakura keeps her chin held high and with as much dignity as one who is exceptionally flustered can muster, climbs into the truck, slamming the door behind her.

It's a few more minutes before the boys join her in the car, Naruto sliding into the middle seat between Sasuke and Sakura from the driver's side. The first half of their trip home is spent in an increasingly painful bout of silence, nothing but Sasuke's classical playlist filling the stillness of the vehicle.

It's Sasuke, astonishingly, breaks their self-imposed quietude.

"Ino brought it to our attention a few days ago. The whole thing with you and Hatake." His eyes slide from the road to Sakura. It's not a stern or sardonic look; it's a look that tells her to keep her mouth shut while he explains further. Sakura does right by him and actually listens for once. "And before you go off the handle about her spilling your little secret to us, she wholeheartedly wanted our opinions on the matter."

Naruto cuts in eagerly, gesturing with his hands while he speaks. "She's worried about you, you know? The whole 'I don't want her to end up alone' thing that all you girls all panic over. She wanted us to see if we could figure out what's holding you back from finally putting yourself out there with this guy."

He leans in close for his next words, resting his head in the nook between her next and shoulder.

"And imagine our surprise, Sakura-chan, that we had to find out you were seeing a man, behind our backs, from Ino of all people!" Naruto's childish antics bleed through his mock upset. He pouts his his lips and bats his eyes, but he's smiling, and Sakura doesn't fall for his games.

"He wasn't a secret per se," she whispers sheepishly, shrugging Naruto off. She doesn't let him get far though. Before he can fully recover from her shove, Sakura tucks herself against his side, resting her head on his chest. One of his arms comes across her back, pulling her closer.

Sasuke huffs one of those weird sorts of breaths that you can’t tell if he’s amused or aggravated. She thinks it the former, though. It's the closest thing to a laugh that she's heard from him in years. "Then why didn't you tell us about him?"

"I…don't know," Sakura reluctantly admits, waving a hand helplessly before letting it fall into her lap. "The whole thing is confusing. We're confusing. I’m not entirely sure where we’re going or even what I’m looking for. I know how I feel, but I don’t even know how he feels. Besides…talking about my sex life, or lack thereof, with the two of you is the last thing that I want to do.”

The mention of Sakura and sexual intercourse in the same sentence throws Naruto and Sasuke for a loop, much like she figured it would. Naruto releases an indignant squeak and squirms uncomfortably in his seat. His dismay is rolling off of him in waves, and Sakura feels the rise and fall of his chest as he tries to gather his bearings. Sasuke…well, Sasuke looks like he’s about as uncomfortable as someone would be if they swallowed broken glass.

“Did you…did you sleep with him Sakura?” Naruto bravely asks.

Sakura harrumphs. It’s weird, trying to have a conversation with her ear pressed to Naruto’s chest. She shifts, readjusts herself and places her head against his shoulder instead. "Out of everything that I just said, that's the only thing that stuck out? Seriously? Do you guys think I am some twenty-three-year-old virgin?"

“Change of topic. Right now,” Sasuke begs. “Please.”

Naruto snorts dryly. “We’re in the presence of an asexual being, Sakura. No inappropriate talk allowed.” There’s a beat, and the atmosphere in the car changes. The humor is gone. Then, Naruto continues in that sinfully serious, considerate tone of his, “You know, if he makes you happy, we would never be opposed to the two of you being together.”

“Hn.”

And that admission warms Sakura, right down to her very core. “I know,” she says quietly. “Thank you.”

The remainder of the car ride passes with Naruto making snippy remarks about Sasuke’s driving. As they arrive just outside the city limits, their bickering escalating into something that could potentially put all three of them into a dangerous situation, Sakura’s phone begins to ring in rapid succession. She wiggles slightly in Naruto’s arms, pulling her cell from her sweatshirt pocket. The screen is filled with notifications of missed messages, one from Ino and multiple from Kakashi.

"Your boyfriend?" Sasuke inquires. He doesn't try to hide the entirely smug tilt in his voice.

"He's not my boyfriend," Sakura corrects.

Naruto interjects with, "Well, technically, he kinda is. Or rather, he's not your boyfriend, yet. That's the keyword: yet."

"You two are insufferable."

"Don't not answer on our account," Naruto says. He's wearing a grin so wide it causes his eyes to crinkle in the corners. "Please, carry on. Pretend like we're not here. Hell, call him if you would like. We won’t say a word. Right, Sasuke?"

Sakura quickly jerks her elbow, catching Naruto in the ribs. "Not gonna happen. Do you think I’m dumb enough to get him on the phone in the presence of you two?"

“Ohhh, she’s embarrassed, Sasuke. She doesn’t want to show us what she’s like with Kakashi. Look at our little Sakura, all grown up with a boyfriend.”

“Hn.”

“Will you two shut up!”

-⇞-

Later on, long after the boys have dropped her off at her apartment, raided her pantry and left behind a mess for her to clean, Sakura Facetimes Kakashi to tell him about her day. She informs him of Sasuke and Naruto’s teasing and about how, inadvertently, he has gained their seal of approval as her ‘not real boyfriend.’

She says it as a joke, something lighthearted and playful that they can both laugh at, but Kakashi doesn’t see the humor in the situation like she thought he would.

He’s quiet and contemplative and looks far too serious as he mulls over her words.

“…Is everything alright?” She eventually asks. This isn’t like him. He’s never this quiet, not with her.

Kakashi starts at her question, like he has forgotten Sakura is on the other side of the video call. “No, no. It’s nothing. I uh…I gotta go. I promised Genma I’d give him a call after work. Something about Ino and some fight they had. You know, guy stuff. I’ll message you sometime tomorrow.”

Before Sakura can sarcastically quip that relationship advice isn’t exactly his forte, Kakashi has already hung up on her without so much as a proper goodbye.

Judging by the lack of missed calls or text messages from Ino, Sakura knows Kakashi is lying about the Genma scenario.

And She’s not entirely sure how she feels about that.

-⇞-

October 31st, 2018

"Well?" Sakura asks. "What do you think?"

Kakashi is uncharacteristically silent, and Sakura turns from where she is admiring her costume in the mirror to stare at her phone screen propped up on her dresser.

He has an odd look on his face, a cross between exasperation and unease and…longing? She’s not quite sure what to make of it. Things have been off between the two of them for the last couple of weeks. Kakashi’s been avoiding her. Their video calls are now few and far between, and if she does happen to rope him into a regular phone call, they don’t chat for long.

Sakura’s trying her best not to let it get to her, but it's not as easy as she would have initially thought. She thought she missed him when he left, but she finds herself yearning for his attention and validation even now.

“What is it?”

His reply is instantaneous. “You’re going out…wearing that?”

Sakura looks down at her witch’s costume. Sure, the black dress was a little too short for her liking, and the neckline was a lot less modest then she would have preferred, but it was cute and it fit her nicely, plus the bell sleeves really pulled the whole thing together. It also had a hood, and in the absence of buying a pointed hat, that was the next best thing.

She frowns. “What’s wrong with it?”

On the other side of their FaceTime call, Kakashi snorts. “I can see your thighs.”

“I’m wearing stockings. You can’t see anything.”

“You have a lot of makeup on.”

“I’m supposed to be a witch, Kakashi. You know, ‘double, double toil and trouble,’ and all that dramatic flair? Makeup pulls the whole look together.”

“You don’t have a hat. You can’t be a witch without a hat.”

Sakura reaches behind her and pulls the hood over her head. It rests haphazardly over her curled hair, but she doesn’t make any move to straighten it. “Boom. Who needs a hat when you have a hood? Next.”

She crosses her arms and watches as Kakashi’s eyes narrow to slits before slowly trailing down the column of her neck.

In a last-ditch effort, he proudly exclaims, “You’re showing a lot of skin.”

Sakura jaw drops open, but her stupefaction is short lived as irritation fights its way to the forefront. “If you’re talking about my cleavage, you know from firsthand experience that there’s not that much to show. My chest is basically nonexistent.”

Kakashi grumbles and turns away from her. He’s sulking, brooding in his silence. Sakura can’t figure out for the life of her why he’s acting like this. And then, finally, it dawns on her and Sakura has to fight down the unexpected bout of laughter that begins to bubble in her chest.

"Are…are you jealous?"

Her query is met with the response she expects. Kakashi burrows further into the pillows at his back, bottom lip jutted out like a pouting child, still refusing to look at her through the phone screen.

“That’s what this is, isn’t it? You’re jealous and upset that I look good.”

“You look great,” He corrects, and if it weren’t for his deadpan manner, Sakura would have taken it as a real compliment.

“Don’t change the subject. Is that what’s been going on with you, lately? Some kind of…of warped jealousy that’s been making you act all weird.”

She watches the line of his shoulders tense at her accusation, watches as the muscle in his jaw ticks in indignation, and Sakura knows she’s hit the nail right on the head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, bullshit. Ever since I went pumpkin picking with Naruto and Sasuke, you’ve been acting strangely. You don’t call or reach out as much, and even if we do talk, it’s always a one-sided conversation.”

Her frustration is mounting and Sakura knows better than to put him on the spot like this. Kakashi never reacts well under pressure, but she can’t help it. Whatever his reason is for acting the way that he has needs to be addressed now or it will eat away at her for the rest of the evening. It may be selfish of her, but she is not ruining her Halloween night because he’s in a bad mood.

“Hell,” She accuses, palm smacking the top of her dresser as an outlet to her aggravation. “You can barely stand to look at me right now!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Sakura. You’re right. I’m pissed off! How would you feel if the person you were interested in makes your feelings the butt of a joke with her two dimwitted childhood friends?”

Sakura stills, shoulders slumping as the ferocity drains out of her. "What...what did you just say?"

Kakashi's face is an otherworldly shade of purplish-red, and if Sakura weren't so shocked by what she just heard, she would have told him to call a doctor. From the bottom of his chin to the tips of his ears, his mortification and horror stain his face in blotchy patches of crimson. He tries to fix his little slip by hastily backpedaling.

"No...it was just...I uh, didn't mean it that way."

She's not going to give him an inch. "What way did you mean it then, Kakashi?"

He doesn't answer and Sakura is left with nothing else to do but stare at his image on her phone screen, wringing her hands in uncertainty.

How have they gotten to this point?

They talk every day, but they really don't communicate well with one another, do they?

Sakura understands and accepts that half of the blame is her own, but despite her efforts, everything over the last five years has come to a head. This was the issue with the dance of courtship. Especially a courtship as misconstrued and messed up as their own.

"I wanted to tell you," Kakashi finally says. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends as he derails. "I wanted to sit down and talk to you about this when I was home for Christmas this year. I wanted to lay everything out on the table and finally address this thing going on between us, and see if we could move forward from here...together. But then you started talking about Naruto and Sasuke, and they made a joke of our relationship, and you laughed along with them, and I know –"

"Kakashi, stop talking."

"You know, that's really kind of rude to say to someone who's confessing their feelings for you."

"Kakashi, stop talking."

And he does. He listens, he always listens to her, but he's not happy about it. He's frowning, lips pressed together in a taut, thin line. Sakura takes a deep breath, then another, and then another. When she finally feels the flush of her impatience leave her cheeks, she says, "I have been crazy about you since sophomore year."

He doesn't respond to her admittance. He looks shocked and angry and a bit relieved, and Sakura has a hard time keeping up with all of the emotions that are crossing his face. His eyes never leave her, though. They bore into her, grounding her. They are dark and stormy and smoldering, and for a long moment, Sakura forgets how to breathe.

Eventually, she proceeds with, "I can't tell you when my feelings changed, but they have, and I'm not sorry about that. I want you to know that my intentions of telling you about Sasuke and Naruto wasn't to hurt you or make a joke of your feelings. I didn’t know how you felt. They both, including Ino, have been pressuring me for the last month to talk to you about everything. About how I feel...and if you're serious about this...about us, then so am I. I'm all in. So, I’m going to ask: are you?"

Her profession brings back that alarming violet color to his cheeks. Sakura, with all the patience of a saint, gives him time to collect himself and Kakashi readily takes it. The way he processes her confession brings about a new myriad of emotions. His face contorts from apparent shock to pleasure, then he grimaces sheepishly, then stares at her blankly for a long while. After a few minutes pass, the corner of his mouth curls up, slowly, then the other.

And before long, he’s smiling.

It's a big, goofy, megawatt grin that lights up his entire being and radiates his absolute elation at the turn of events. Sakura doesn't think she's ever seen him look so happy.

Kakashi swallows thickly, then releases one, long, drawn-out exhale. His voice is heavy and heady with emotion when he murmurs, "You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say that."

“Fucking finally!” A voice shouts from the doorway.

Sakura yelps in surprise and turns to find Ino leaning against her bedroom door frame. She’s dressed to the nines in her rendition of a modern Jessica Rabbit costume and Sakura finds that it’s a bit difficult to keep her eyes solely on Ino’s face. Showing a lot of skin, indeed.

“I tried knocking,” Ino enlightens, observing Sakura’s befuddled look. “But you didn’t answer and the front door was open, so I let myself in. Now, though, I can see why you were too busy to answer the door.”

Ino looks at the cell phone propped up on Sakura's dresser and her grin broadens. Though Kakashi can’t see her from that angle, Ino gives a tiny, coy wave of her fingers in the direction of the device.

"Hello Kakashi," she sings.

"Hi, Ino," he politely returns.

Sakura smacks her forehead with her palm and grumbles.

-⇞-

November 9th 2018

It has been a shitty week. A really fucking shitty week and all Sakura wants to do is go home, crawl into her bed, wrap herself into a bundle of blankets and pillows, and sleep for the next three days.

One of her long-term patients at the hospital took a critical turn, and despite her best efforts, he passed away in the middle of her shift the night before. Dealing with the family and the paperwork was one matter, but the emotional turmoil sitting heavy in the pit of her stomach is another.

Tsunade tried her best to turn the loss into a lesson; this might have been the first time Sakura lost a patient, but it would not be the last. Though the bonds she forms with those in her care are important, she needed to learn how to cope with the grief adequately. It didn’t help that last night’s shift had also been her third in a row, and the second day at the hospital that turned into a fifteen hour, around the clock stint in the emergency room.

Sakura is run ragged, emotionally and physically weary down to her bones. Everything fucking hurt, and if it weren't for the fact that she was currently holding on to the stair railing, she is pretty sure she would collapse into a boneless heap right in the middle of the stairwell.

There were other things on her mind as well. Sasuke and Naruto were fighting over something that she can’t, for the life of her, even remember anymore. She was caught in the middle of two bothersome, stubborn men who refused to apologize to one another and admit that they were at fault. She had been receiving passive aggressive messages from both of them throughout the last two days.

Ino was having problems with Genma – again – and despite Sakura’s best efforts to try and be there for her friend, Ino’s sour mood was festering to uncontrollable proportions. No amount of consoling and cajoling could calm her down.  

Sakura was sure that Kakashi was getting the same treatment from Genma, but she could neither confirm nor deny that, solely based on the fact that she and Kakashi hadn’t been speaking all that frequently. Now, that wasn't to say that things between them weren't going well.

They were going better than well. Things were amazing.

After they had laid everything out and expressed how they felt, they were finally on the same page and progressing forward, together. Things were still new, but she is giddy with the possibilities of a new romance. It was uncharted territory, and though she was acting like a lovestruck high schooler, Sakura is excited for the things they could experience with one another.

The distance was still a disconcerting factor, but relationships take work and effort, and Sakura would be damned if she wasn’t willing to buckle down and power on through.

But, with the holidays approaching, things were getting especially hectic. Being in medical school, and as low on the totem pole that she was, Sakura had been forced to cover up a majority of the slack at the hospital. The patient census was low, more nurses and senior staff were taking off to spend time with their families, and it left the interns scrambling.

Kakashi wasn’t faring much better then she is. His firm is just as busy and he’s stuck covering most of the grunt work.

Phone calls were few and far between with their conflicting schedules, but they managed to text each other here and there. Or, more accurately, Kakashi sent Sakura very colorful, very threatening messages about remembering to eat properly and take care of herself.

Sakura manages – just barely – to pull herself up the two flights of stairs to the floor that her loft was on. Her mind is focused on nothing but reaching her bedroom and the sweet oblivion to be achieved once she makes it there, but as she approaches her apartment door, two things become apparent.

One, there is a teenage boy who looks barely old enough to drive, dressed in a polo and khakis, blocking the entrance to her apartment.

Two, he’s holding one of the most massive bouquets of roses that she has ever seen.

“Hello?” She calls out tentatively. “Can I help you?”

The kid turns at the sound of her voice. He looks relieved to see her. “Are you Miss Sakura Haruno?”

Sakura nods, letting her gaze shift from his face, to the bundle of flowers in his hands. She then gives him a quick once-over, recognizing the logo of the local flower shop stitched into his left sleeve.

“I am. How can I help you?”

He seems overly delighted by her confirmation and thrusts the bouquet into her unsuspecting arms. Sakura struggles to receive them without crushing a bud or two.

"Awesome! I'm glad you're here." His enthusiastic manner reminds her of Naruto. "I didn't want to leave these outside your door where anyone could step on them. You don't need to sign for them or anything. Have a nice day, ma’am! "

The delivery boy is there one second and gone the next, and Sakura is too flabbergasted to fully contemplate if she's insulted by him addressing her as 'ma'am.’

She looks down at the bound blossoms, a neat array of reds, pinks, and whites, and she spies a little card mounted on a plastic display nestled in the center.

It's a simple note, written in elegant, feminine script.

Just a friendly reminder --

Thinking of you always.

Yours,

K.

Suddenly, Sakura doesn’t feel so tired anymore.

-⇞-

Later that day, when Ino stops by and notices the bouquet sitting as the centerpiece on Sakura’s kitchen table, she proceeds to call Sakura a sappy, love-sick fool.

Sakura couldn’t and wouldn’t bring herself to care, because it was undeniably true, and no amount of teasing was going to wipe the goofy smile from her face.

-⇞-

November 16th, 2018

"If you're not going to help, I'm going to hang up on you."

"Now, Sakura, that hardly seems fair."

"Listen here you brat. This case is the make or break of my residency at the hospital. Either you help me go over the case files, or you quit distracting me. If you keep bothering me with useless nonsense, I’m going to fly to Iwa and beat you with a stick."

“Sounds like a good time to me.”

“Kakashi.”

"Alright, alright. Geez. Remind me to never get on your bad side, babe."

“You already are!”

-⇞-

November 22nd, 2018

It's the middle of the afternoon on Thanksgiving Day, and Sakura is panicking.

"Sakura, sweetheart, you need to calm down."

She glares at the phone sitting on her counter, hoping that he could feel the weight of her scowl all the way in Iwa.

"That's easy for you to say," She grounds out through gritted teeth. "You didn't just ruin Thanksgiving dinner! Seriously, how the hell did I manage to burn a fucking turkey!"

There's a noise on the other end of the line, it sounds like a snort, she perceives it as a snort, and Kakashi is lucky that he is calling her from his office because if he were home, she would rip into him for finding anything about this situation hilarious.

Sakura settles on raising her middle finger in the direction of the phone, and that mollifies her – if only slightly – despite him not being able to see it. She continues to frantically turn the pages of the recipe book her mother gifted her when she moved out.

"If you're not going to help, Hatake, get off the phone."

"It's just Naruto and Sasuke," is Kakashi's flippant dismissal. "You could put instant noodles in front of the both of them and they would still praise you for it."

Sakura releases a distressed whine and turns another page, eyes skimming for something that she can whip together in a matter of an hour and a half. She hears Kakashi click his tongue and there's an echo of movement on the other end of the line like he's switching the ear that he’s pressing his phone against.

"Take a deep breath," he coos into the receiver. "You said you managed to save all of the side dishes, right? You can still serve those. I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind.”

There's a murmur of another voice on Kakashi's end followed by Kakashi's muffled response. There's a pause before his says, clearer this time, “Sakura, I need to go. Make a noodle dish for the main course. I'm sure you have all the ingredients at home. I'll call you later, alright? Have a good time. I love you."

The call disconnects right as the cookbook slips from her lifeless fingers and clatters against the countertop. The noise that emanates from the back of her throat is a mix between a squeak and a whimper and is entirely distressed in nature.

Did he…did he just…?

The ringing of her cell phone interrupts her thoughts and Sakura looks at the brightened screen to see that she has messages from Kakashi waiting for her.

Kakashi Hatake (3:36:15 pm): So... I totally just said that... Kakashi Hatake (3:36:32 pm): Sorry for throwing it on you like that. Kakashi Hatake (3:36:47 pm): But it's true, and I'm not taking it back. Kakashi Hatake (3:36:59 pm): Remember, deep breathes, cook some noodles, and enjoy your time with your friends. I'll call you tonight.

For the next two hours, Sakura is too distracted with staring at those messages to try and salvage dinner.

They eat Pad Thai takeout for the main course and Sakura’s not even the slightest bit ashamed when she serves it.

Naruto and Sasuke – mostly out of fear for what would happen if they were to complain – tell Sakura it's the best Thanksgiving dinner they've ever had.

-⇞-

December 16th, 2018

Ino shows up on her doorstep that morning, and in all of her assertive glory, demands that Sakura help her bake something for her office holiday party.

Though Sakura would love to tell Ino that she is on her own, she has always been susceptible to Ino’s puppy dog eyes and her futile resistance crumbles before it even has the chance to form fully. The two of them make their way into the kitchen, and Sakura’ falls into the rhythm of a familiar and comforting routine: shooting the shit with her best friend, laughing about inanities, and dancing around her home as they prepare food in concert, singing along to one-hit wonders from the early nineties.

After the last couple of months, nothing could have been more uncomplicated or more healing than returning to this normalcy.

Cookies in the oven and coffee brewing, Sakura uses the lull in their baking to check her phone, and Ino notices the preoccupation instantly. Being an excellent friend, she misses exactly zero opportunities to rub Sakura’s face in it.

“Who you talking to, Forehead? Your boyfriend?” Her voice was sickly singsong, light, and teasing.

Sakura shoves her shoulder in repentance and laughs. It’s just as much jubilant as it is incredulous, and she shakes her head instead of getting defensive.

Sakura is in a good mood. It’s Sunday, and that means she and Kakashi have a movie date later on – which meant they would watch television while on the phone together and comment on the absurdity of whatever shitty horror film that they put on.

Ino walks over to the counter where the coffee pot resides, pours two mugs full, then returns to Sakura’s side, placing her cup on the table in front of her. They sit in companionable silence for a few moments, relishing in those first few sips of a fresh cup of coffee.

“Are you happy, Forehead?”

The spontaneity of the question catches Sakura off guard. Slowly, she places her mug on the table, keeping both hands wrapped around it and stares at Ino. The juvenile cheerfulness that her friend had exhibited that afternoon is long gone, leaving behind nothing but mindfulness and concern.

Sakura is aware that Ino’s question has nothing to do with her job, or her impression in that exact moment. It’s about her relationship and how it makes her feel and Kakashi. It’s always about Kakashi.

“Yeah, Pig,” Sakura reassures. “I’m happy.”

The gravity of the situation dissipates as Ino nods once. “Alright then.”

Sakura snickers. “I should be the one asking that question. How are things with Genma?”

Ino snorts, rolls her eyes skyward, and they fall back into the comfortable, compatible joviality that they had shared throughout the afternoon.  

Later on, about a half hour after Ino leaves, Kakashi calls and apologizes, but he has to cancel their movie date. He cites work for his excuse, and though Sakura is disappointed, she doesn’t hold it against him. She spends the rest of her evening flipping through Netflix and noshing on the cookies that didn’t make the cut for Ino’s dessert platter.

She readies herself for bed shortly after her movie ends. She plugs in her phone and cozies herself between the numerous blankets, sheets, and quilts on her bed. With the lights out and the only sounds in the room being the hum of her breathing and the buzz of the heater, Sakura begins to drowse. The chime of an incoming text message startles her out of her light snooze. Glancing at her clock, Sakura grunts and rolls onto her elbow, reaching for her phone on the nightstand.

Kakashi Hatake (11:01:30 pm): I have to speak to you tomorrow. Can you call me in the morning?

Just as she begins to thumb a response, another text message arrives.

Kakashi Hatake: (11:01:45 pm): You should be sleeping.

Then another.

Kakashi Hatake (11:01:51 pm): Seriously. Put the phone down. You have a shift tomorrow afternoon. Just call me in the morning.

Sakura does as she was told, a sly, little smile on her face.

Read receipts. She should really turn those off.

-⇞-

December 17th, 2018

There are some emotions that are difficult to explain – that exist in the kind of liminal space between other, more easily understood feelings like happiness and hate and fear. There are some emotions that don’t have a name: the sensation of looking up at someone and one day beginning to wonder, not for the first time, whether or not you really love them. The moment when you get exactly what you always wanted, but begin to feel guilty for all those who never will; the sense of coming home to an empty apartment after a long shift, and feeling both an abiding comfort and a profound impression of loneliness.

And Sakura was feeling one of those confusing, nameless emotions at that moment – a deep and personal sense of mourning for someone she was deeply tied to, but unable to adequately express the magnitude of her feelings.

"I'm...sorry...," she mumbles faintly. "Can you repeat that?"

She's back in the alleyway behind that sketchy bar Ino insists on dragging them to whenever their schedules align. She didn’t get the chance to call Kakashi that morning. Tsunade called her and asked her to start her shift a few hours earlier than intended. The patient census was still low, but her mentor wanted someone in the ER that she could trust.

By the time she was relieved of duty, Kakashi was still at the office, hence the late-night phone call.

Kakashi is insufferably silent on the other side of the line. He sighs, then sucks in a deep breath. There's a pause, a beat, where Sakura thinks that he might actually elucidate what he just said, but he merely sighs once again.

"I said," He finally mutters and then stops. Sakura hears the clink of his teeth as he snaps his mouth closed.

Sakura squeezes her eyes shut, bites back the tempting urge to vocalize her inherent irritation, and waits for him to confirm her fear. It's another two whole minutes before he speaks again.

"I said, I won't be able to make it home for Christmas."

Her plea is instantaneous. "We already have everything planned."

It's feeble and needy, but it's the only counter-complaint that makes sense in her mind. Sakura knows that Kakashi understands why she's unnerved by the news. If he doesn't come home for Christmas, the next time that he would be able to visit Konoha would be in March.

March.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” He really does sound remorseful, but the sinking feeling in her gut doesn’t go away with his soft words. “I have no say in who the partners decide to keep on during the holidays. They chose me, Sakura, and I can’t change that.”

It’s the first time in their relationship that Sakura hangs up on him out of spite.

-⇞-

December 25th, 2018

“You can still come out with us, you know,” Ino’s voice echoes throughout her apartment. “Genma and I are going to dinner, and we’re meeting everyone at the bar for drinks after. Seriously, Forehead, come get dressed.”

Sakura leans over the arm of the couch, digging her feet between the cushions to keep herself from falling too far forward. Facing the hallway that leads to her bedroom, Sakura yells out, "Thank you for the offer, Pig, but I'm not really in the mood to be a third wheel to you and Genma."

She hears Ino scoff, followed by her footsteps padding down the hall, and Sakura perks up at the sight of her best friend in her borrowed outfit.

Ino chose a pair of patterned tights and an over-sized, cream-colored sweater-dress with an off-the-shoulder, folded-over neckline that she made her look diminutive and cute. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and she foregone any dramatic makeup, instead opting for a mostly bare face and some lip gloss. Ino moseys her way over to the couch and begins to tuck her feet into her knee-high black leather boots that she had earlier disposed of.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" She asks, making her way into the kitchen where she had dropped her coat on the back of one of the chairs.

Sakura sinks back into the soft cushions of her couch. "I'm sure. I'll be fine. I've got a pint of chocolate chip ice cream and half a bottle of chardonnay with my name on it."

Ino returns a second later, donning her wine-colored coat. She eyes Sakura curiously, and with a hint of doubt, head cocked slightly to the right. Sakura can see the gears turning in her head, watches as her lips part like she's about to call bullshit on Sakura's excuse. She doesn't let Ino have the chance.

"Honestly, Ino." The use of her real name gives the blonde woman pause. "I'm alright. I wouldn't let you out of this apartment if I weren’t. You know that. Go have fun tonight. Have a shot or two for me."

Ino scrunches up her nose, and her lips twist with displeasure, but she doesn't argue. She reaches across the space between them and ruffles Sakura's hair playfully. "If you need anything, call me. You know I'd come running."

Sakura gives her a dismissive wave of her hand. "Yeah, yeah. Get out of here already, or you're going to be late."

Ino doesn't fight her, and without another word, she's out the door.

Sakura occupies the rest of her evening with deep cleaning the majority of her apartment. Her kitchen floor has never been so clean. When her shoulders ache, and when her knees are sore and red from the amount of time she has spent on them, Sakura finally decides to call it quits.

She takes a long, relaxing shower, letting the hot water beat against her back and tries to find a sense of calm that has evasively eluded her for the last couple of days. Since Kakashi broke the news that he wouldn't be returning in time for Christmas, Sakura has thrown herself into her work at the hospital.

It wasn't his fault, she knew that, but it didn't make it hurt any less. Ignoring his calls and texts for the remainder of that night was juvenile and childish, and in recognizing her error, she apologized to him the following morning. Kakashi never held it against her, he understood. He always understood — that silly, stupid, reliant man.

Though things between them were fine, they weren't precisely copacetic, and the closer they drew to the destined day, the more strained things seemed to become. Sakura sent him a text this morning with well wishes for his holiday and received an immediate reply, but beyond that, she hadn't heard from him.

When the water turns cold, Sakura shuts off the shower and towels herself dry. She spends enough time in her bedroom to change into her pajamas and brush her matted hair before she beelines for her kitchen. A little while later, Sakura is halfway through her stash of ice cream, the drone of some news program on her television filling her living room, when someone knocks on her front door.

Whoever it is, is impatient, because before she can even put down her spoon, there's another knock, quickly followed by another, their volume increasing.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Sakura calls out, disgruntled at the prospect of her dessert-for-dinner pity party being interrupted.

Scratching the back of her head, Sakura throws open her door and comes face to face with a very disgruntled, yet strikingly familiar pug with a Santa hat on his head.

“Pa...Pakkun?” She gapes, caught off guard.

Her eyes dart down to the hands holding him around his middle, then trail up a toned arm, and then...he comes into view.

Kakashi is there, staring at her, looking so much the way she remembers him from their last video call.

He’s the same, but then again, he’s different.

He’s real.

He’s taller in person then she remembers, and his hair is a bit shaggier, but that jawline, the broad set of shoulders, those are all the same. Just the sight of him stirs something so powerful within her. It’s longing and something so horribly nostalgic that everything around them melts away into faded insignificance. Sakura watches, transfixed, as his mouth moves to form the one single word.

“Surprise?” It’s more of a question than a statement.

There’s a pause long enough to span a single heartbeat before she’s in his arms, squishing Pakkun between their bodies as she clings to him.

“What are you doing here? Better yet, how did you get here?” She’s vibrating with her giddiness, bouncing on her toes.

Home. This is what coming home feels like. It’s here, in his arms.

He laughs at her excitement. There's something about him that softens the longer he embraces her, giving way to such an air of contentment that Sakura can help but hug him tighter.

“It took some convincing, and a lot of overtime, but I was able to get off for the next couple of days.” The mood shifts and the corners of his mouth turn down into a small frown. His expression contorts into a remorseful grimace. “I didn’t want to disappoint you by not making it home.”

Guilt tightens her chest. “I’m sorry,” Sakura states quickly. “I didn’t mean to act the way that I did the other night. I’m not disappointed. I was being childish. I’m so sorry, but I could never be disappointed with you. Not when you’ve worked so hard to be here.”

Kakashi smiles that same smile he had when she confessed her feelings for him, and he finally does what she’s been wanting him to do since the moment he showed up on her doorstep. Her lashes flutter as he leans in, head tilting slightly. He presses his lips gently to hers, once, twice, and then pulls back, pressing his forehead to hers. He breathes out a sigh.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he whispers. "I got here as soon as I could. I’m home.”

Sakura is so overcome with the emotion that swells within her at that phrase.

The canine stuck in between them releases a whine and nips at his owner’s fingers. Kakashi pulls back further, and Sakura laughs at the dog’s antics, reaching out to softly scratch at the fur behind his right ear. It garners her an appreciative lick to the tips of her fingers.

“I love you,” are Kakashi’s next words, soft and sweet and filled with so much feeling.

And nothing else seems to matter, not the stresses of work, not the long distance, not the tension between from the last couple of days. All Sakura knows is that those words have come out of Kakashi’s mouth, here and in person, and it’s like all nine planets have aligned. Everything makes sense. They make sense and Sakura finds herself falling all over again.

She wasn’t about to let him go.

"I love you too," she breathes. "Welcome home."

Kakashi smiles and takes a step in her direction, then another, forcing Sakura further inside her apartment. He takes the time to close the front door behind him and crouch down to release an impatient Pakkun from his grasp; then he straightens, eyes having never left hers.

They are molten and warm, and he looks like he wants to devour her.

He closes in on her again, and Sakura readily jumps at the opportunity to meet him halfway, but there’s something about his movements. They're slower, more measured. He brings both of his hands to her face, runs his thumb across the curve of her lips, parting them slightly, and rests it in the corner. Kakashi moves his other hand to the back of her neck, opening his palm against the shape of her skull, pink hair ribboning through his fingers. Then still, slowly, sacredly, he tilts his head, lets their foreheads brush, then their noses, then plants the lightest, daintiest ghost of a kiss on the bit of her right cheek by the corner of her mouth. Sakura doesn’t feel as lax in this situation as he is, she doesn't want to draw this out, so she turns her head and their mouths lock instead.

Any coherent thought in Sakura’s head almost vanishes at the faint, fragrant whiff of his cologne. It envelops her, drowns her. Kakashi utters a muddled sound in the back of his throat that causes Sakura’s toes to curl. She’s the one to pull back from the kiss this time, but she doesn’t get very far before his mouth descends on hers once more.

Warm, smooth, slightly wet, he presses his lips against her own, briefly. Once didn’t seem like it was enough because a second kiss soon follows, and this one lingers, deepens. He pulls away infinitesimally and his smoldering black eyes peer into hers, which flutter in wonder.

“Hmm,” he hums with a chuckle, and Sakura hears the soft breath escape his lips, feels it as it fans hot against her flushed cheeks before he kisses her once more.

Sakura closes her eyes, fully embracing this beautiful dream and kisses him back. Her hands reach out to touch his chest, and it rumbles beneath her touch. She has a moment to relish in the feeling, and he takes the time to pull her towards him gently. His one hand inches down to tangle into the hair at the nape of her neck, while the moves from the side of her face, follows every dip and curve of her body, and comes to rest at the small of her back, tracing slow, tantalizing circles.

Their soft kisses become more passionate and the tip of his tongue, searing hot, teases and coaxes at the seam of her lips as they kiss, and Sakura doesn’t hesitate to open her mouth to receive him. All Kakashi gives her is one teasing lick before he withdraws, moving his lips to ghost along her jaw, nuzzling into her neck. Sakura moans, a delightful pressure beginning to build within her, and rocks forward to close whatever space is left between them, breasts pressed flat against his chest.

The hand on her back dips lower, squeezing over her shorts, kneading and caressing.

She pulls away from him with a breathless chuckle. “Eager, are we?”

“It has been a while,” he replies before nipping at her collarbone. He uses his nose to push the strap of her tank top down her shoulder and chases the fabric with his tongue. “That one night from freshmen year doesn’t really count.”

“I’ve sent photos as a little preview,” Sakura says, rolling her hips into his. A thrill of excitement shoots down her spine as she rubs against his hardening erection.

“Mm, but photos don’t compare to the real thing, do they?”

As delicious as his playful affections feel, Sakura would rather not waste another second. She steps out of his arms and before Kakashi can complain about the loss of her body, she’s slyly beckoning him with one finger, walking backwards into her living room.

There’s a blur of movement, a flurry of shredded clothing, and a shrill of laughter before Sakura finds herself bent over the arm of her couch.

Kakashi is between her splayed legs, his large hand pressing deliciously on her lower back, pushing her further down. He's taking his time, exploring her, reacquainting himself with what is his. Every once in a while, his fingers take off, thumb trailing across her spine, tracing the sharp indent of her waist, dipping into one of the two dimples just above her backside – the ones that she distinctly remembers him having a sort of less-than-healthy obsession with the last time they were together like this.

"Look at you," he murmurs into the tender skin at the base of her neck. Sakura mewls. “So beautiful.”

He pushes a lock of coral hair over her shoulder for no other purpose than to lick the spot he has just bared.

Sakura sucks in a breath, leaning forward a little more to grant him better access and coaxing him to where she wants him most. Kakashi readily takes the invitation, and when he's crouched behind her, he hovers there, hot breath ghosting against her skin. His fingers delicately trace along the backs of her thighs, running over the curves of her ass and Sakura can hear him utter profanities as he marvels at the sight of her, open and waiting for him.

Face still close, warming her with his breath, his finger traces a path from her clitoris, down, collecting the moisture that has begun to weep from her. He spreads it around on his way back up to tease her bud. Over and over he does this, fingers gently past her clit in one turn, then pressing hard against it on the next.

Sakura squeezes her eyes shut in frustration, feeling oh so good, and wanting so much more, and when she finally opens her eyes, lips parting so that she can tell Kakashi precisely what she would prefer those fingers to be doing, she feels it.

The hot, wet drag of his tongue, from bottom to top, followed by his lips closing around her clit. Sakura gasps. He applies a gentle suction, the tip of his tongue lapping at her intimately, while two of his fingers travel down to insinuate themselves within her. As soon as he's entered her, Kakashi curls his fingers upwards, increasing the suction of his lips incrementally to make the intensity of his caress almost intolerable. He keeps his pace steady, almost languid and a warmth pools heavily in her stomach, building up inside of her.

Sakura’s orgasm overtakes her in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though Kakashi doesn’t seem to mind. The combination of his fingers, his lips, and his tongue prove to be too much for her, and she cries out her release into the couch cushion underneath her.

She doesn’t have time to recover her breathing. Kakashi, one arm wrapped around her waist, yanks her up to a standing position. He makes sure that she is steady on her feet, before gently, but firmly, pushing her in the direction of the hallway.

“Bedroom. Now,” Kakashi commands, accentuated with a playful smack to her ass.

Sakura squeals in surprise which shifts into a stream of giggles as she makes her way down the hall to her bedroom, Kakashi hot on her heels.

Sakura’s not sure how she manages it, but she wrestles him down on the mattress first. The sight of him, lounging back in among her pillows, cheeks flushed in excitement, turns her on more than she realizes. She plants a knee on the mattress, quickly followed by the other, and she crawls demurely towards him.

When she’s hovering over him, Sakura kisses a trail up his left thigh, narrowly avoiding his weeping member that is begging for her attention, and nibbles harshly into the sensitive skin of his groin, laving at it gently with the flat of her tongue.

“Sakura.”

Kakashi’s warning is clear. He doesn’t want to wait, and truthfully, neither does Sakura, so without any concern or modesty, Sakura sits astride him, knees planted on either side of his hips, and shamelessly rubs herself against his cock.

She brings her hands to his shoulders for balance, and Kakashi cranes his neck up to kiss her just as his hands guide her as she lowers herself onto her onto him. Sakura sighs her pleasure as he fills her to the hilt, grinding greedily down onto him until she is seated tight up against his pelvis. When their kiss ends, they pull apart, and Sakura pants at the sensation of him bottoming out inside of her. His hands wrap around her hips, and he leads their movement as she continues to ground against him.

The first few moments are spent fumbling and shifting, both of them trying to find a rhythm that suits both of their needs, and try as she might, Sakura can't get a good enough angle to put enough pressure on her clit, but she's aching for it, and it causes her to whine. Kakashi seems to sense her frustration and sneaks a hand between them and harshly plucks and presses on her quivering bundle of nerves.

And then, all at once, every sensation becomes unbearable. His cock is so large and deep within her, stretching her deliciously from the inside, and the press of his fingers against her clit, the dragging of her hardened nipples against his chest. It’s too much.

A long, low moan accompanies each exhale, and Sakura presses her forehead to Kakashi's shoulder, continuing to rock over him frantically. Her body begins to coil in on itself with the buildup of another orgasm. His grip on her waist is bruising, and Kakashi starts to snap his hips up to meet hers.

Sakura can feel it, like a wave cresting in the tide, and she screams out her release, collapsing forward, sated and boneless. Kakashi stops moving, eyes closed and brow furrowed, fingers twitching on her waist. He holds perfectly still within her as she cums, a satisfied grunt escaping his lips.

Kakashi rearranges them on the bed, pushing her back on the mattress, torso hovering over her as he remains buried deep within her. When Sakura's collects herself, eyes focusing on him, he begins to move again, sliding into her in a luxuriant pace. Each time he pulls back, he nearly withdraws completely, before pressing forward until she's squeezed around him to the root. She was coming down from her previous release, and one breath later he was building her back up. This man would be the death of her.

But what a sweet death it would be.

Kakashi raises himself upright, spreading her legs wider with one hand, while the other occupies itself with cupping her right breast. It doesn’t stay there long before his fingers caress her heated skin, right up and past her collarbone. His fingers wrap gently around her neck, and there's no pressure at first, but then, there's a little squeeze. The slight amount of compression feels surprisingly good, adds to her lightheadedness, and Sakura closes her eyes and groans. One of her hands comes up to wrap around his wrist, and she cants her hips, trying to meet his, thrust for thrust.

Kakashi's eyes close as well and his rhythm stutters a little. Sakura's lids flit up so she can watch the concentration marring his brow, the sheen of sweat over his smooth, pale skin. He groans, quickening his pace before releasing his hold on her throat. He slumps forward onto his hands, one on either side of her head. Sakura wants to cum with him. She snakes a hand down between them and rubs herself frantically, trying to catch up and the other wraps around his neck, pulling harshly at the hair at the nape of his neck.

The feeling of him inside her, over and over, the press of his skin against hers, the flex of his abdominal muscles, and the delightful pain of his teeth digging into the flesh of her shoulder all work in tandem to rewind her up just in time.

He shudders over her, hips snapping and stilling, then moving again, as he releases within her. He continues with small, shallow thrusts, seeking the last delicious sensation of pleasure as his orgasm passes. When it’s finished, Kakashi collapses over her, his weight and heat welcome.

They remain like that for a while, recollecting themselves, but he eventually pulls out of her. They both whimper simultaneously at the sensation, and Kakashi rolls off of onto his side, pulling Sakura along with him. He tucks her against his side, wraps his arms tightly around her and Sakura presses her forehead to his chest, lips brushing along a pectoral. She sighs in contentment.

She feels his lips on the crown of her head, a butterfly kiss, and Kakashi murmurs, "Best Christmas present, ever."

Sakura snorts and nips at his skin. “You’re an idiot.”

He hums his agreement to her name calling, running his one hand leisurely up and down her side.

“Yes, but I’m your idiot.”

Sakura lifts her head and leans in to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw. “You’re not wrong there.” A pause. Then, “Merry Christmas, Kakashi.”

Of course, on the one day that he couldn’t ignore his responsibilities as Hokage and sneak out of his office to spy on his busy spouse, something like this happens.

When Kakashi, followed closely by his guard, venture to his wife’s location, his mind races with the numerous possibilities of what they might find.

The list was truly endless and that did nothing to help his blood pressure.

To eventually discover his petite, pink-haired wife at the center of an all-out brawl with other restaurant patrons, was a surprise and a shock that also did nothing to help his blood pressure. This was not something he had foreseen.

Genma, finally recovered from his bout of hysteria, cocks a thumb in the direction of the scuffle and asks, “Do you want me to intervene?”

“You better not,” Ino sternly warns, suddenly appearing between the two of them. She cocks her head to the right, angling herself better to receive the kiss Genma brushes along her cheek before she states, “The douchebags deserve every part of the beatdown they’re getting.”

Kakashi sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. He pinches the bridge of his nose and inquires, “Do I even want to know what brought this on, Ino?”

Crystalline eyes peer up at him for a moment before returning to the combat arena in the middle of the dining room.

“We came here for lunch, and they were drinking at the bar,” The blonde explains, jerking her chin in the direction of the small countertop residing against the opposite wall. “Sakura got up to go to the bathroom, and one of them made a comment about her ass. It all went downhill from there rather quickly.”

Genma whistles a low, appreciative note as Sakura lands a spartan kick in the middle of one opponent’s chest all the while holding another in a tight headlock. His face was starting to turn an ugly shade of purple.

“Remind me to never fuck with your wife, Hatake,” The brunette guard muses. Ino gives a soft hum in agreement while Kakashi snorts dryly, nonplused and unamused.

Though he wasn’t upset with Sakura for defending herself in a situation that called for it, Kakashi knew this would result in an unnecessary amount of paperwork, numerous apologies, and money spent on medical expenses. It really wasn’t something he was looking forward to dealing with.

There’s a sharp, strangled cry before the sound of a chair breaking draws all of their attention. The onlookers in the crowd wince in unison as Sakura hurls one of the men across the room.

There is a beat of silence and then, “How is my wife more badass than me?” Kakashi quires, generally curious. “When did that even happen?”

Genma smirks, sly and smug. “I’m not sure, but you’re one lucky son of a bitch.”