Chapter Text
Rain tapped steadily against the windows of Konoha General Hospital. Not hard enough to storm. Just enough to linger.
Sakura Haruno stood outside the reinforced psychiatric wing with a file tucked against her chest so tightly the edges bent beneath her fingers. Some God was laughing at her, or perhaps crying over her predicament. Either way she didn't feel real in this position.
The ANBU guard nearest the door glanced at her badge, then at her face. Recognition flickered briefly behind the porcelain mask.
Pity came right after.
“Haruno-sama,” he said quietly. “He’s awake.”
As if she’d expected him not to be. Sakura swallowed once and nodded. The file in her hands was unnecessarily thick.
Hatake Kakashi.
Age: 32.
Former Hokage candidate.
Jōnin Commander.
War veteran.
Psychological evaluation pending.
Three counts of premeditated murder.
The words still refused to settle correctly in her mind.
Outside the official report, rumors had already spread through the village in fractured pieces. Some said he’d snapped during interrogation proceedings. Others insisted the elders had threatened Naruto. A few whispered ROOT involvement.
No one knew the full story.
Not even Naruto, or at least he wasn't telling her, and she knows he would.
And Kakashi had not explained himself once since surrendering.
No resistance. No escape attempt. No formal statement.
Just blood on the council chamber floor and Kakashi kneeling in the center of it with his hands already raised for arrest.
Sakura exhaled slowly through her nose.
Professional distance.
That was the point of this assignment.
She had not been selected because she knew him personally. She had been selected because she was considered the most qualified psychiatrist in Konoha capable of handling severe post-war trauma cases. Already beginning her several year long endeavor of opening a childrens ward, for Konoha child mentally affected by the war.
Sakura suspected the real reason she may have been chosen, was crueler.
No one else wanted to do it.The ANBU operative unsealed the door, metal clicked heavily.
“Session length?” he asked.
“One hour.”
“If he becomes unstable—”
“He won’t,” Sakura answered automatically.
The guard hesitated, not because he disagreed, because she’d answered too quickly. Sakura stepped inside before he could say anything else.
The room surprised her.
It wasn’t a cell.
It looked almost ordinary aside from the seals carved into the walls and the chakra suppression cuffs resting loose around Kakashi’s wrists.
A table. Two chairs. A narrow bed.
A bookshelf.
Someone; probably Naruto; had brought him novels. Kakashi sat near the table with one open in his lap.
For one impossible second, it looked normal enough that her body reacted before her mind did.
Sensei.
The word rose instinctively inside her chest. Then he looked up, and she remembered where she was.
His visible eye curved faintly.
“Ah,” he said. “They finally sent someone scary.”
Sakura stared at him.
Same silver hair.
Same lazy posture.
Same calm voice that had once guided Team Seven through missions, arguments, grief, survival. Nothing about him looked broken. That frightened her more than if he’d been screaming.
“You’re making jokes,” she said before she could stop herself.
“Should I not?”
“You murdered three council elders.”
Kakashi tilted his head slightly.
“And that means I can’t joke anymore?”
The bluntness hit her like cold water.
Not defensive.
Not ashamed.
Just… factual.
Sakura forced herself to move to the chair across from him. Every instinct in her body wanted to stand near the door instead. She set the file down carefully.
“You understand why I’m here.”
“I assume this is the part where you ask if I’m having violent thoughts.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
His answer came too smoothly.
Not rehearsed. Certain.
Sakura uncapped her pen.
“Do you regret your actions?”
Kakashi watched her quietly for several seconds.
Too long. The silence stretched until the sound of rain filled the entire room.
Then he said softly:
“That’s a complicated question.”
Something uncomfortable twisted beneath her ribs, because that was not the answer of a madman. That was the answer of someone who had thought about it extensively. Sakura lowered her eyes briefly to the report in front of her.
“Walk me through that night.”
“No.”
Her gaze snapped back to his face. The refusal wasn’t hostile, if anything, it sounded tired. Kakashi closed his book carefully and rested it beside him.
“You’re nervous,” he observed.
“I’m not.”
“You keep clicking your pen.”
Sakura looked down. Her thumb had indeed been compulsively pressing the pen mechanism over and over.
Click. Click. Click.
She stopped immediately, irritated heat rising beneath her skin.
Kakashi’s eye softened slightly. There it was. That familiar gentleness. Somehow worse than anger would have been.
“You don’t have to do that with me, Sakura.”
Her name settled heavily in the room.
Not Haruno.
Not doctor.
Sakura.
For the first time since entering the ward, she felt genuinely unsteady, because part of her still trusted him.
And she no longer knew if that made her compassionate—or dangerously naive.
Sakura opened the folder again mostly to steady herself.
“Let’s establish orientation first,” she said. “Date, time, location.”
Kakashi sighed lightly toward the ceiling.
“You know I’m not delirious.”
“Procedure matters.”
“Maa. Fine.” His visible eye slid back toward her. “May thirteenth. Around noon. Psychiatric ward, Konoha General Hospital.”
A beat passed. Sakura wondered why his eye was covered, both were now normal. Her trance was interrupted-
“And you haven’t slept properly in three days.”
Sakura’s pen stopped moving. The silence afterward felt microscopic.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The shadows under your eyes are darker than usual,” Kakashi said mildly. “Your left hand keeps cramping. You’ve had too much coffee, not enough food, and you’re overcorrecting your posture.”
His gaze lowered briefly.
“You only sit that straight when you’re anxious.”
A form of childish anger filled her, for a brief moment before she realized what he was doing.
“This session is about you.”
“It usually is.”
“That wasn’t an invitation for sarcasm.”
“No,” Kakashi agreed softly. “It was an invitation for distance.”
That landed harder than she expected. Sakura looked back down at the report before he could see her expression shift.
“You understand boundaries between physician and patient.”
“I do.”
“Then stop attempting to redirect the discussion.”
Kakashi was quiet for a moment.
“You used to yell at me more.”
Her chest tightened unexpectedly, because it was true. Years ago she would’ve snapped at him without hesitation. Called him irritating. Smacked him upside the head for dodging serious conversations. Now every word between them felt measured with surgical precision.
Careful.
Fearful.
Kakashi watched her too closely.
Not predatory, but observant. Like he was mapping changes in terrain after returning from war.
“You’re uncomfortable being alone with me,” he said eventually.
Sakura met his gaze evenly. “Shouldn’t I be?”
“That depends.” His voice remained calm. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”
“That's complicated, at the moment.”
The answer came immediately, not because she believed he would hurt her, but because she knew he could affect her.
Kakashi seemed to understand that distinction instantly. Which made him even more dangerous.
"I don't like being picked apart, not even by my favorite student." He crinkled a smile. Sakura eyes frowned and moved to his book he'd been reading earlier.
"No porn stash?"
"I couldn't be so lucky," he sighed leaning back. "Apparently Hinata was too meek to walk into the aisle to grab one."
Hinata hot him the books?
"Some of them, my latest ones-," Sakura hated how he could read her mind so easily. "That's what you were thinking just now, huh?"
"Sen- Kakashi." Her tongue numbed, "if I bring you a "peace offering" next session would you be more willing to answer questions?"
His eye lit up.
"You're coming back?"
"I'm your designated psych." She felt stupid saying it out loud, his eyes faltered, but he nodded.
"You know what I like."
She rolled her eyes as she stood up from her chair, Kakashi stood too. For a moment she flinched, he of course noticed. Slowly, sitting himself back down.
"Right, I can't really walk you out Sakura-chan, forgive me." He slumped in his chair with a weak smile. Her heart hurt and before she ran over to hug him she simply nodded and quickly stepped out.