Work Text:
Sometimes, your father will tell you stories about your mother.
You don't ask. You never do. She died before you were even a year old and any memories you had of her were gone before you could miss them.
Instead, you will sit there in silence, still as you are learning to be. You will sit as your father sips the last of his sake and listen.
She’d have loved you, your father always says. His voice is soft and sure. She’d have loved you so much.
He looks out into the fading sun, pinkish light tangling with his hair. You will wait for a moment before tugging on his sleeve.
Your father smiles down at you, a sad thing that sticks in your four year old mind for a long time.
You’re going to make someone very happy someday, Kakashi, your father says, ruffling your hair with a large hand that seems to cover the whole world.
Years later, you will wonder who Sakumo meant if not himself.
***
Rin likes you, you know that? Obito tells you. You're both five, standing together on the Academy steps. You are graduating tomorrow.
Obito’s face is smudged pink and his goggles perch haphazardly on his forehead. He stares at you with a stillness he’s never been capable of in class.
You stare silently back at him and shrug your shoulders.
Okay.
The pink flush turns red while his fists tighten at his sides.
Well?
Well what?
Do you like her back?
You shrug again.
Don’t you like anyone?
Your head cocks to the side as you stare at the shaking boy in front of you.
What do you want?
I-
He struggles for words. You do not help him.
I want-
He pushes past you, shoulder slamming into yours, and runs out the school gates.
Is everything alright, Kakashi-kun? Yamamura-sensei asks, coming up behind you.
Was that Obito-kun just then?
You aren't sure, and don't say anything. The small figure turns a corner, vanishing out of sight.
***
I think she’s looking at you.
Sensei’s eyes are squinted in a smile.
You nod against your palm. Yes.
You noticed her when you walked in. The purple marks on her cheeks. The way she kept looking at you from under her bangs.
Do you want to say hi?
The lilt of his voice says he’s teasing you. But you're used to people staring, so you don’t understand what’s different this time.
No.
Both the girl and the conversation are not particularly interesting and you are not particularly interested.
Maybe she has a crush.
A what?
An infatuation.
Oh.
You glance back at the girl. She looks away quickly and stares down into her bowl. You think you recognize her.
She's not very good at it.
Sensei chuckles until you frown up at him. I don't think it's something you can be good at, Kakashi. It's just something that is.
There are very few things that you aren’t good at. You are hard pressed to imagine this could be one of them.
The frustration must show on your face because sensei leans in towards you.
Kakashi, what is it?
You mull over your words. Feel them bubble unhappily in your chest.
I still don't understand.
Sensei is looking at you with his head tilted to the side. But there is only curiosity there, willing you to elaborate.
What she wants.
He hums to himself, face scrunched in thought.
It’s called romantic attraction, Kakashi, he says in his best lecture voice. It’s not particularly subtle and you are torn between sliding down in embarrassment or sitting up at attention.
He pauses, folding a hand under his chin. It usually means you want to be close to someone. To learn more about them and to spend more time with them. But in a different way than being close to friends or close to family.
Sometimes it's a crush. He nods his head and you glance over. The girl still hasn't looked up.
And sometimes it's more serious.
Like you and Kushina-san.
Sensei gives a startled laugh, rubbing the back of his head as a red flush spreads over his nose.
Yes, I suppose so. Maybe, he adds hurriedly at the end, eyes darting over your head.
Maybe?
He shushes you nervously, his hands gesturing for you to lower your voice. Yes, yes. Maybe.
You think he’ll change the subject now, if only to save himself. Or inevitably turn back to his food. But his eyes are kind when they look at you. He does not bring up the girl again.
***
(You are looking at Obito’s blood through Obito’s eye. Looking at Rin’s hands covered and dripping, the purple marks on her cheeks smudged.
You are thinking maybe.)
***
When you wake up in the hospital bed, it’s with a headache that feels like it’s splitting your skull and you can’t help the hiss at the sunlight shining through the window.
A vague yellow shape appears at your bedside, overly bright and too close. But when you focus hard enough, it morphs into your sensei.
Kakashi?
You groan, the sound of your name reverberating painfully between your ears.
How do you feel?
Dead.
Minato’s grimace is blurred and you don't know why. The answer is overwhelmed by the drill behind your left eye.
Here. Drink.
There’s a tremor in your fingertips when you take the cup from his hand.
The medic left a tray with the blue jello, he says to you quietly.
I think she likes you.
What-
The water slips from your hand.
I think she likes you.
The warm gush of blood over your arm. Lightning chirping in your palm.
Rin likes you, you know that?
Kakashi?
She likes you.
Do you like her back?
You can’t breathe. You can’t-
Kakashi!
Ka...ka...shi?
Kakashi, look at me. Please.
Do you like her back?
Do you like her back?
Kakashi, please.
What’s wrong?
He’s not responding. His breathing. It’s not-
Ka...ka...shi?
It’s alright, Kakashi. It’s alright. Just come back.
Please. I can’t lose you too.
Don’t you like anyone?
***
Oi. Hatake.
You’re being moved to the front lines, attached to an unknown unit. They can’t afford to keep you in the village. No matter your age or the frown on Minato-sensei’s face.
The others around you are cheerful as they make camp, despite the circumstances. They know each other well. Know what is expected of them. You keep your distance as best as you can.
You realize now the mistake you’ve made in sitting so close to the fire.
What is it? You ask, turning your head. Allowing them to see the hitai-ate pulled down over your left eye.
You got someone back home, Hatake? The shinobi that called out, a special jounin that you don’t recognize, is leaning forward, eyes fixed on the place where your headband meets your mask.
Something in your chest burns but you do your best to ignore it. The entire village of Konoha is well aware you are all that’s left of too many things.
No.
You turn back to your weapons. Some of them are in need of sharpening and you curse yourself for your carelessness.
No one? No one that puts those butterflies in your stomach?
What? Your face is incredulous even through the mask and it’s maybe the first honest reaction you’ve given any of them.
Don’t know about the butterflies, do ya? An older chuunin is elbowing you in the side now. You don’t know his name but he laughs like you’ve done something funny.
Butterflies?
You think of annoying insects that land in your hair when you’re out patrolling. Of your ninken snapping at anything that gets too close.
When someone pretty smiles at you and you spend the rest of the day pretending you’re not drunk on it, someone else answers for him. Another murmur of laughter.
You are thirteen and you almost tell them you’ve never been drunk before. That the smell of sake burns your nose.
Come on. You know, don’t you? There’s a nudge at your shoulder. It’s meant to be playful, you think. You assure yourself. But you keep silent and lean away, trying to make it look like an accident. Like a natural reaction to the space between people.
Come on, you know.
Rin offering to share her lunch with you, onigiri with salmon and her laugh when she refused to take no for an answer. Obito grabbing your hand and pulling you towards trouble, his palm warm and alive. When Minato-sensei smiles and it’s like the sun...
No.
***
(You are cold-blooded Kakashi; kills his friends and doesn't know what love is.)
***
There is no one left at the memorial stone but you. Some part of you, very very far away, is glad the others won't see you like this, crouched in the grass and unable to move.
Your shoulders and elbows have long since locked. Your legs are numb from the dampness of the grass. Minato-sensei’s hands are covering your own.
Except-
No. You are imagining things. The longer fingers, shorter nails.
But you can’t look up from where they touch.
Was it not enough? You ask. Was it not enough to be here?
Sensei doesn't answer. It might be the first time since you were six years old. You curse him and can no longer feel your mouth moving. Can no longer hear the words.
What is this, sensei? You ask, suddenly so very very tired. So unable to think. Why does it feel like this?
Something is growing inside you at a frightening rate. You think if you could move your arms, you'd rip it from your chest before it spills over. You imagine the horrible mass of it spreading wings and taking flight.
I don't want it anymore, sensei. Begging this time. Unbecoming. Nails are scratching at your chest and it is moments before you realize they are your own.
What is this what is this what is this. There is grass in your mouth. Pressure behind your eye.
I don’t want it.
I don’t want it.
Why aren’t you here to tell me, you whisper, and the last thing you see is Minato’s hand reaching for your chest.
***
You pick up the book because the cover promises ‘grand adventure' and ‘great romance’ and the merchant looks at you with eyebrows raised when you pay for it.
The book is unassuming enough when you flip curiously through its pages. You skip over some of the more intimate scenes that seem to go on for several chapters at a time.
“I love you beyond words,” Kensei whispers into her hair, weaving it between his fingers like shafts of moonlight.
“And I love you,” Aiko whispers back. “Forever and eternal.”
They cling to each other, breathing the others’ scent, not knowing when they may be granted the opportunity to see their lover again. In what may be their final night.
And then the pirates attacked-
New book?
You blink up at Genma. You aren't sure how to answer.
Genma leans over further, arm braced against the tree and senbon clicking against his teeth.
What’s it about? he asks, snickering into his hand. Amused.
You glance back down at the book. You’re halfway through and you still aren’t sure.
...Pirates. I think.
Naked pirates?
...No.
He snickers again. You wonder what it will take for him to go away.
A shadow appears over your shoulder. Hayate is leaning over you, eyes skimming down the page.
Really?
What.
What did you pick up that trash for?
You almost say, I wanted to know. I just wanted to know if it was the same, but it isn’t.
Instead, I liked the cover.
Genma waggles his eyebrows. Hayate rolls his eyes.
You go back to reading.
***
“I have a gift for you,” Kensei tells her, closing her into the heat of him.
He pulls out a bracelet, golden in the candlelight. Simple, for he was a man of simple means, but elegant and beautiful as he slips it over her wrist.
“Oh!” Aiko exclaims, her mouth a perfect round shape. She gently caresses the band before pressing it to her lips. “I will never take it off. I will cherish it always.”
The pages skitter wildly from a sudden gust of wind and you press them back down with a hand.
You won the fight but only just. A match in taijutsu, because it was Gai’s turn to choose, that took out several trees and the flock of birds inhabiting them. (Unharmed, you assured Gai, who was anxiously waiting below you for news)
I have missed this, Rival, Gai is half shouting. A true competition of Youth and Spirit and Passion!
He is spread eagled in the shade, breath slowly returning to normal after your match. You are leaning back against the tree, Icha Icha Paradise open against your knee.
Let’s go again, Kakashi!
This is your first afternoon home in a month and Gai is beaming at you from ear to ear. There is a twist in your stomach that has you feeling indulgent.
Alright.
Yosh! Gai leaps to his feet pumping a fist in the air. You think one day he might actually fly away.
In a minute, though.
Neither of you are out of breath anymore but you find yourself unwilling to break the peace settling strangely across you. You turn a page, instead. Gai sits back and looks to the clouds, naming their shapes to himself.
Gai.
Hm.
Do you love me?
Whatever Gai is expecting from you, it isn’t that.
What? He squawks and sits up.
Do you love me? you repeat, patiently. You watch Gai from over the top of your book.
Why do you ask? He looks confused now, his surety of the day gone.
This book says, you flap the pages a little, orange cover moving like birds wings, That if you declare your feelings loudly and dramatically and recite poetry and bring flowers, and occasionally save their life from pirates, it means you’re in love.
Gai rubs a hand over his hair thinking about it for a moment.
I think… he says slowly, and then pauses again.
If you consider the care I have for you as my most youthful and eternal rival. And-
He looks down at the hands between his knees, searching for something.
And the feelings I have for you as my friend…
When he looks back up at you, there is a wide smile on his face.
Yes, I love you. Very much. More than I love almost anyone else.
You hum in consideration, rolling the idea back and forth in your head.
But perhaps I am not speaking in the way you mean. The serious look has once again overtaken his features. It has happened too often in the last ten minutes for you to be comfortable.
Maybe.
I’m not sure yet.
Gai nods once, sharp and definite. And sometimes even you can admit that Gai is the best. You wonder if he knows that. If he can see it on your face.
Come, Rival!
There is a hand in front of you. An offering.
We must replenish ourselves before the upcoming challenge!
You take the hand and are pulled out from under the shade. Towards some unknown destination that has your heart beating a steady tempo.
Today, you are two friends traveling the road of life.
***
The rain catches you both off guard. The journey home is still a day’s run through the forest with nothing between here and there but more trees.
Tenzo crouches down, planting a hand against the earth. You turn your head south and listen.
I can build us an inn, if it comes to it.
Can you build us the staff too? You mean to chuckle, but it comes out flat. Soft and serious.
Of course. They would all look like me though.
Well, we can’t have that.
Senpai.
The look is fond and only a little annoyed.
In the end, Tenzo builds you a small cottage. One room only and just enough to protect you from the elements without attracting enemy attention.
The fire is small by necessity, but you are quietly relieved at the chance to dry out. Tenzo sits across from you, sans animal mask and faceplate. His eyes are large against the flickering light and you sigh to the sound of the rain.
Good night, senpai.
Good night, Tenzo.
Only.
Tenzo is kissing you. Somehow next to you instead of across. You wonder how you missed it.
His lips are soft against you. A slow press already pulling away. There is a hand on your neck.
It’s probably easier if you pull it down.
The look you receive is filled with confusion.
You stare back, your head tilted to the side.
Oh. A blush spreads over his cheeks but there’s no tremble in his hand when he pulls down your mask and kisses you again.
You let yourself be herded up against the wall. It presses hard against your shoulder blades and along your back.
You fuck up against it, half dressed and mostly silent, biting his arm when you come.
When you wake, your thighs are pleasantly sore and Tenzo is looking at you from across the room.
You know about my feelings for you.
Yes.
Then why did you let me do it.
Because I wanted you to.
Tenzo chews on his bottom lip. Looks at you.
You’re a good man, Tenzo. Don’t let that goodness get in the way.
You pack up your belongings in silence.
You don’t see Tenzo for a week. When you do, it's out on the street, under the normal sun.
Good morning, senpai.
There’s a smile on Tenzo’s face. You do not ruffle his hair like a child. You do not quell the fluttering in your stomach.
They promoted me, Tenzo tells you and there’s a relaxedness to his stance, leaning hard to the right with his arms crossed at the elbow.
Congratulations.
They said you recommended me.
You were ready.
Thank you.
His eyes are clear when they look at you.
You're a good man, senpai.
There are no questions in Tenzo’s shoulders. No half voiced thoughts or doubts. You walk away, leaving broken glass in your wake.
***
You are twenty-seven years old. You didn't think you would live this long and yet somehow this is your life.
All three kids are screaming violence at each other, pulling at your arms to get your attention. No one's touched you like this since-
Since.
There is a basket of spilled cabbages at your feet.
The kids manage to look guilty when they see you squinting through a headache. There is a quiet muttering of apologies, barely there. They pick up the cabbages.
But on the road home, Sakura hands you a flower and a sweet smile. You’ve decided she’s your favorite. Naruto shows you the interesting rock he found and asks if you know anything about clouds. Sasuke doesn’t snap at any of you for the rest of the day and listens intently when you tell an embarrassing story about your first C-rank that isn’t remotely true.
You think how are these kids still alive?
You think-
You think-
***
You remember war.
From the time you were old enough to now. To this very moment. A quiet slash across your back. Riding the explosion under your feet. A question dragged like dead weight over too many decades.
You have died too many times to be here.
The face in front of you is blank. The one behind you is frightened and running. It was never really a question, was it.
You wonder if someone somewhere will rage over your gravestone. Will ask you why it wasn’t enough to just live.
You think
I would have.
Just this once. I would have.
Something glints in the air, blinking towards you with increasing size and speed. You remember a twist in your stomach. You remember maybe.
You don't remember the rest.
***
(Your name is Hatake Kakashi. You are thirty years old. And you are in love.)