#technically second

Ayame's playful expression fell, her uncertain eyes flickering between his gaze and poised hand. Behind his mask, she could see the shadow of an encouraging smile looking down at her. Again, another wave of heat rolled across her body, thinking of the previous day's encounter.

Slowly, she lifted a hand and placed it in his, allowing him to support her as she slid out of bed. The feeling of his worn fingers against her palm twisted her stomach. Slipping her feet into a pair of slippers, she felt him gently let go, ensuring she was steadied as the pads of his fingers slid from hers.

Ayame looked up at him, feeling a mingle of uncertainty and excitement swelling to the surface. He stood there for a moment, a single onyx eye jumping between two olive-colored irises. She felt herself wanting to shy away; something in his gaze seemed different - a more sober and unwavering stare as her cheeks flushed.

"I'm glad you can stand up today," he told her quietly, "you're getting your strength back."

Ayame nodded, unable to find any words to reply. Finally, he looked away, turning back towards the window and looking either way beyond the sill.

"Are we really going somewhere?" she asked, watching the muscles in his forearm flex as he leaned against the window's ledge.

"You'll see," he looked back, knees bending slightly, "but you're not strong enough yet. Let me carry you."

Her face turned crimson, shaking her head as she laughed nervously, waving a dismissive hand, "Kakashi - please, I'm fine. I don't have to go anywhere."

"It'll be worth it," he smiled, "I know what it's like to be locked up in a hospital room for weeks. Some fresh air will do you good."

Ayame hesitated, biting her lip as he looked back at her again, waiting. It wasn't as though they hadn't been this close together before. On the contrary, they had fought at close proximity all summer in hand-to-hand combat, not to mention their kiss on the same training field, but this was different. Exhaling, she stepped forward, locking her hands around his neck as he requested. The heat from his back as she pressed her chest against it was overwhelming, sweat prickling at her skin as she felt his hand reach for the back of her knees.

Yelping quietly, she gripped the collar of his shirt tightly as he hitched her knees to his hips. She was grateful she had changed into long pants rather than the hospital gown she had had on the previous day. A girlish, uncomfortable laugh fell from her lips unexpectedly, burying her face between her arms as he lifted them both through the window. She could smell fresh detergent on his clothes, the scent of his clean skin beneath it mingling in her nose as she held on.

"Wait -" she looked up, turning back into her room as he walked over to the hospital's room, "what about-?"

"Don't worry, I'll get you back before the midnight rounds," he replied assuredly. Under the glow of the rooms behind them, she could see the different hues of grey and silver that made up his hair. As the lights grew dimmer the further away they moved, it quickly became apparent just how dark the Sand village was from the rooftops, even with the glow of the main drag illuminating below them.

"Ready?" He looked to her over his shoulder, waiting for her consent. She pressed her lips in an uneasy smile, nodding slightly as she gripped his shirt again. In one swift motion, he launched the pair from the hospital's rooftop, skidding across residential flats as they made their way toward the edge of the village.

Behind her, she could feel her hair bustling in the wind, the night's fresh air filling her lungs. Her grip on his shirt loosened, her palm flattening out on his chest as it expanded with each breath. She could feel how thin the fabric was, her fingers brushing over what felt like dog tags hanging from his collar.

She nestled her head on his shoulder, looking up beyond the rooftops toward the desert biome around them. His hair tickled her nose, and she pulled away, looking up at the sky above and relishing its beauty. At that moment, she was alive. There was no poison, no threat, and no injuries. Just this.

A few rooftops later, she felt his boots skid to a stop at the edge of a building and looked up over his shoulder again. Before them was a steep, desert land formation jutting out from the sand below. It was one of the many that surrounded the village's perimeter. Kakashi looked down at the distance from the rooftop to the ground, assessing it before looking back up.

"Kakashi," Ayame warned, her hand curling his shirt in her fist.

"You don't trust me?" He looked back at her, another impish smile behind his mask. Ayame snorted, looking up at the feat before them.

"I do - but -" A yelp fell from her lips, feeling him grab her wrists as he lunged from the building. Squealing behind him, she buried his face in his back, a grunt coming from him as he landed on the ledge of the desert structure.

"Try to hold on to me tighter," he advised, their bodies suddenly perpendicular to the ground. Without looking up, she clung to his body, hooking her ankles together at his waist. His modest grunts filled her ears as he cautiously lifted the pair up the incline.

She gasped behind him, feeling them slide backward as a rock he had grabbed on to tumbled down against the structure.

"I'm not going to let you fall," he reassured her, feeling her forearm clench his neck.

Quickly, he recovered, the feeling of his chest rising against her fist clearly indicating how strenuous this was.

Finally, she felt him lift the pair above a landing, pulling himself up with Ayame clinging to him.

"Alright, you can get off now," she heard, her fist unfurling from his shirt at the feeling of steady land beneath them.

"Are you sure?" she laughed uneasily. He chuckled in response, patting her wrists that held against his collarbone. Carefully, she peeled herself off of him, the thin fabric of her slipper feeling the rocky land beneath her feet.

Her gaze fastened to the sky above as she came out from around him. A cool breeze slid across the land, sweeping sand at her feet as her lips parted slightly at the marvel of the constellations above. As far as the eye could see, stars and planets twinkled against the inky backdrop of the night sky. A watercolor of purples and blue hues painted the sky, constellations shining against the dark night, begging to be seen. A star gazers paradise.

"I've never seen the stars so clearly before," she managed, her chest tight in awe at the scale of just how small she felt at that moment. She could see every twinkle of light before them, far beyond the desert basin of the Wind.

"This is beautiful," she shook her head in disbelief, looking over at him for the first time. His eyes had been on her, watching her take in the scenery. She smiled softly at him, feeling herself blush as he looked away back up at the sky.

"It is," he agreed, "it's the best place to see them."

"You've been here before?" She asked, knowing the obvious answer. The premeditated idea to bring her here cinched at her chest.

"When I can. I found it when I was in the ANBU," he replied, his hands deep in his pockets. Listening to his words, she slowly lowered herself to the rocky ground, pulling her knees to her chest as she looked back up at the sky. Glancing down at her, he sat beside her with a bent knee, the pair watching the stars twinkling beyond the desert tundra.

"How long were you in the ANBU?" she questioned, looking over to him. There was suddenly so much she didn't know about him. Although there wasn't much she knew about the secrecies of the ANBU Black Ops within the village, she knew enough to infer the kind of life that must have been.

"For much of my youth. I joined when I was thirteen," he told her, his eye swiveling over each star cluster.

"That seems like a lot to handle at such a young age," Ayame offered solemnly. Her eyes looked to his wrist that hung over his knee, his thumb picking at the skin of his middle finger.

"It was," he agreed, "but so is everything else that comes with being a shinobi."

Ayame nodded, looking away, "What made you join?"

"You have to be chosen. My sensei appointed me," Kakashi answered, pausing for a moment, "after I lost my teammates."

"Both of them?" Ayame looked over, perplexed by his words.

Kakashi turned to look at her, his eye meeting hers as he thought of a response. But something intrigued her about the look in his eyes, the somber expression that danced across his partially hidden features. She wondered if she had gone too far, asking far too personal of a question.

"I'm sorry," she told him quickly, looking back up at the night sky, "you don't have to tell me."

"Don't apologize," he replied to her, "I don't usually talk about it to many people."

She glanced back over at him, the hazy moonlight illuminating his profile in a way that twisted a knot in her stomach. She looked away, expecting it to be the end of the conversation.

"Rin was 15 when she died," she heard him reveal suddenly, her head swiveling back to him, "she sacrificed herself for the village."

"Oh, that is so tragic," Ayame frowned genuinely, saddened by his words.

Another pause, "She - walked into my attack meant for the enemy."

Ayame's eyes softened, compassion and grief overcoming her as she searched his profile. His eyes remained fixed on the night sky above, his thumb still nervously picking at the skin of his finger. She thought of what that must have felt like to experience.

"I'm sorry that happened," she replied gently, her gaze soft and tone understanding, "that must have been hard for you. Both in the moment and afterward."

Kakashi nodded soberly, "It was. It haunted me for a lot of years. It was like a grief that I couldn't get away from."

Ayame nodded as well, looking down at her own hands, a like-minded feeling tugging at her memories.

"And Obito was 14," he continued morosely, "He saved my life."

"That was very brave of him," Ayame commented quietly. He nodded his head, his mind on a previous plain of existence. A few beats passed, and she wondered if she should say more. But something told her that he was okay with the quiet.

Beside her, she heard him move, watching him lift his headband from his head, his hair falling over his forehead as he looked over at Ayame. He placed it between them besides a bushel of desert flowers. Ayame looked down at the headband as her eyes skimmed over to the desert flowers between them. The cluster of tiny white blooms caught her eye, picking one from the ground.

"I owe him my life," Kakashi told her suddenly, watching her fingers twirl the flower between them, "and for gifting me this eye."

Ayame looked up, a cool chill running up her spine as her gaze met his, the red glow of an ominous eye staring back at her. Initially, it may have seemed menacing, but as a quiet smile lifted his cheekbones, she felt her heart twitch again. Everything he did made her feel the same way.

"It sounds like he was a good friend to you," she told him after a moment's reflection, her words genuine as she considered his tale. She watched him nod, his eyes still watching the flower spin between her fingers.

"You know," he began suddenly, looking away at the night sky. "I always admired desert flowers the most. They're resilient little things. Adapting and growing in such an infertile, barren environment."

Ayame twirled the flower between her fingers, considering his words. She glanced at him, tilting her head as something clicked in her mind. At that moment, something seemed to change within her. A revelation tethering her to the plane of reality where it was just the two of them.

Hesitantly, she lifted the flower and carefully slid it behind his ear as he turned his head, captivated by her action.

"Just like you," she told him softly, tucking the perennial beneath his hair. She watched his eyebrows lift slightly, his expression tender in a fragile, vulnerable way she had never quite seen before. She lifted her lips in a delicate smile, their gazes knotted together as some unexplained force drew them closer - a catalyst bound for one another since the first day they met.

Ayame's smile fell, lips parting slightly as she felt his hand touch her jaw, tenderly cupping in his palm. Her breath hitched in her throat, feeling the callous on his thumb skim across her cheek, an unmistakable quiver in his finger against her skin.

It felt as though time stood still for a moment, an intimate exchange strong enough for the earth to pause on its axis beneath them, or at least that was how it seemed to her. She lifted a hand, holding on to his forearm as her eyes searched his face, desperate for him to not let go.

His chin tilted, and his mouth suddenly hovered over hers, hesitating as his finger slid against her cheek. Her eyes grew wide as his mismatched gaze looked into hers, the tickle of a shaky exhale warming her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest, heat rising up her spine as she felt the fabric of his nose nudge against her skin.

Her lips parted, suspended with a question as he took the opportunity to press his mouth to hers. Her entire body flushed, fingers tightening at his arm as though it were the only solid thing that kept her anchored to the swaying world.

For a moment, her body was immobile, her mind racing to catch up to what her body was experiencing. His lips held softly against hers, the piney natural scent of his skin tickling her nose, overwhelming her senses in a way she couldn't quite comprehend. After several thunderous heartbeats, she kissed him back, brushing her lips over the fabric that covered his mouth. He exhaled against her, a fragile groan muffled in his throat as his muscles came undone under her grip. Months of tension melting under the humid desert night.

His hand slid to the nape of her neck, his clothed lips moving so incredibly gently over hers, it made her delirious. She slid her arms around his neck, hands shaking as she pulled him toward the ground.

They broke away for a moment, labored breaths mingling as he cradled her head down to the sandy terrain. His lips peppered kisses at the corner of her lips, the hammering of his heart against her chest as she pressed him closer. The flower she had perched behind his ear slid to the ground beside them, landing in the dusty terrain as he lifted himself to look down at her, noses barely touching.

"Are you going to pretend this didn't happen again?" she whispered to him, holding his face as his eyes danced between hers.

Kakashi smiled softly at her. His gaze fixed on hers as he lifted his hand to her neck. Her pulse beat wildly against his palm, erratic and uncontrollable under the gaze of his dark, somber eyes. They were stripped of their usual calm, aloof distance beneath those thin black lashes, replaced only with a tenderness she never expected to be on the receiving end of.

"Only fools make the same mistake twice."

Ayame's parted lips exhaled at his words, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. She closed her eyes, expecting to feel him kiss her again as he pressed his forehead to hers. Instead, she was met with the electrifying feeling of his bare nose nuzzling at the side of hers. Her fingers gripped his hair gently as his soft lips fell sleepily to hers, pressing softly as a gentle hum escaped him.

Her mind went blank, lost in a bubble of time and space at the feel of his naked lips to hers, quiet desperation behind his kisses. Her fingers slid through his hair, the thick locks tangling between her fingers as she pulled him closer. All of the longing stored up in her overflowed, the gentle pressure of his mouth on hers as he deepened their kiss, causing her to lose all sense of reality. She returned his kiss fervently, feeling his tongue slide against her bottom lip. She breathed deeply against him, expelling the air from her lungs as though she had been holding it for months, only now allowing herself to let it go.

Every nerve ending in her body stood on edge, electrified and heated. She pulled away, turning her head and feeling his lips chase hers, his mouth pressing against her jaw and the corners of her lips, leaving soft, tender kisses in their wake. She lifted a hand to his face, wanting desperately to see it again since that day in her family's cache. He lifted his head, staring down at her through heavy breaths, his face flush and lips swollen just as she was sure hers were.

Ayame let out a shaky breath, holding the smooth skin of his jaw in her hand. He had clearly shaved recently. He was more handsome than she remembered, a coil in her stomach winding tighter at the sight of him. Her hand slid across his skin, her thumb tracing over the scar on his cheek, feeling the divot it created on his skin. There was nothing she wanted more than this. His eyes looked into hers, that same vulnerable, tender gaze as before.

She smiled warmly at him, her fingers sliding down his neck, feeling the artery pounding at his collar. He smiled in return, a genuine glimpse of something she suspected very few, if any, had seen.

She wanted to say something, to tell him how grateful she was to have him in her life. She wanted him to know all the things she loved about him, the bruises on his soul and the scars on his body. She wanted to utter the phrase that had swelled in her as he stroked her cheek, to whisper it again and again in his ear until the morning hours.

Instead, she reached up, burying her face in his neck as she wrapped her arms around him. The tip of his nose nuzzled at the back of her ear, shaky breaths tickling her skin. Carefully, he pulled them both back up to a sitting position, his arms snaking around her waist as she clung to him. Their legs tangled together, her head resting gently on his shoulder. Above her, she felt his cheek rest at the top of her head, his hand sliding up the ridge of her spine.

Neither said a word; the stars shifted slightly above them in the azure sky, the only indication of the passing time between them. He held her against him as though afraid she would slip away. Her fingers drew circles on his back, feeling his muscles relax under her touch.

"I should get you back," he murmured to her sometime later. His nose traced the shell of her ear, an affectionate gesture that tingled at her skin. She squeezed his shoulders, unwilling to let go.