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fineillsignup · 6 years

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LOVE STINKS (KakaSaku, rated T)

For @natanije and KakaSaku Month prompt “Healing”

LOVE STINKS (on AO3)

Sakura stabbed at the crumbled daisy petal with a chakra scalpel in utter frustration. It was counterproductive, she knew that, since the diminishing supply of months-old flower petals was now all she could have for the indefinite future, but it was just so aggravating. An absolutely textbook case of the rare Hanahaki Disease just had to develop while she was out of the village on a mission. Not that anyone should have been surprised that the newly twenty-year-old Hinata developed a terrible case of flowers in her lungs on the very day of her Coming of Age Ceremony. Even Sakura had thought it would probably happen, but she’d thought it would keep until she got back from the emergency mission.

Instead, that stupid mutt Kiba just had to confess to Hinata that he was in love with his teammate, and then Naruto had awkwardly admitted that he and Gaara were currently dating (“although I’m really flattered Hinata -ttebayo!”), and by the time Sakura made it back to the village, Hinata’s lungs were botany-free, although the sweet girl had been kind and forward-thinking enough to collect all the coughed-out detritus for Sakura to examine.

It’s not that Sakura really wanted Hinata to be literally dying of her unrequited feelings, but understanding the mysterious Hanahaki Disease had been a goal of hers since she first read about the disease at age fourteen. She knew, without doubt, that if Sasuke-kun didn’t return her love by the time she was twenty, she would certainly develop the disease, leaving the morbid choice: die of her feelings, choked poetically to death on Sasuke-kun’s favourite flower; or choose to have the infection scraped out, a treatment which, the literature somberly warned, left the patient unable to love at all?

The idea of being found dead of love, surrounded in a sea of bloody petals—doubtless something very elegant like peony or fire lily… at fourteen, it had seemed like a glamourous fate. By twenty, however, quite a lot had happened. Sasuke had come back, fought with them, knocked out a goddess with them, then knocked Sakura out, lost to Naruto, and left again after a rather unsatisfactory poke to her broad forehead. In the four years since then, they had seen each other only briefly.

Sakura and Hinata had turned twenty the same year, and Sakura hadn’t thought Hinata’s possible infection would be a problem, because Sakura would surely also develop the disease, solve it with her medical genius, and return in plenty of time to cure Hinata as well.

But her Coming of Age Ceremony came and went without even a tickle in her throat.

How could she cure Hanahaki Disease without a patient to study?

She pulled off her lab coat in a huff and stormed over to T&I to drag Ino out for tea and dango.

“Am I a terrible woman?” she demanded as the waitress went away with their orders.

“Yes, that’s why we’re friends,” Ino replied, her bang swaying as she tilted her head.

“Be serious, Pig!”

“Well, I’m more serious than not,” Ino said, frowning. “You’re a goddamn force of nature, Forehead. You can level a battlefield, scoop up the wretched pieces left behind and put them back together more often than not. That’s terrible. And awesome. You’re the kunoichi I strive to be better than.”

“I mean about Sasuke-kun… if after all this time, I’ve given up on him… doesn’t that make me terrible? You know… fickle, and so on?”

“Is this about you not getting Hanahaki?”

“Yeah.”

Ino drummed her fingers on her arm. “Look. I wanted Sasuke-kun back then too, and I’m not coughing up camellias or whatever.”

“But you’re dating Kankurou.”

“Yeah, exactly. I moved on. Does that make me terrible? I used to want Sasuke, now I’m with Kankurou. Naruto used to want you, he’s happy now with Gaara. Maybe you should cut out Shikamaru and make a play for Temari, come to think of it.”

Sakura giggled. “You’ll sabotage your own teammate?”

“Sure, make his lazy ass work for it,” Ino winked. “Hey. I know that wanting Sasuke-kun was, like, a huge part of your identity for a while, but maybe there’s a reason why Hanahaki Disease only strikes starting after the Coming of Age Ceremony. You have to be an adult for feelings to be that serious. That’s why we don’t let twelve year olds vote or drink or get married.”

“We did let them go to war though.”

“Well, the minimum age for genin is sixteen now,” Ino said. “Maybe you should ask Kakashi-sama to raise it to twenty?”

Sakura hums. “Maybe I should bring it up to him. It’s not a bad point. I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t either,” Ino said. “Weird. Usually he’s in the flower shop at the very least weekly.”

Sakura scowled. “It had better not be that there’s a new issue of the Icha Icha fanzine again. I’ll definitely go and sort him out!”

———

Getting a meeting with the leader of the most powerful hidden village was very difficult. Even the daimyo had to wait nowadays.

Sakura was not the daimyo, and she waited for no one.

Genma and Raidou didn’t even bother to try to stop her as she thrust open the Hokage office door. “Kaka—whoa!”

The room absolutely reeked. There must have been some kind of odour-blocking seal to keep the stench from drifting into the corridor. And the odor was unmistakably emanating from the Hokage… or rather, the back of him, hunched over a basin and apparently puking into it.

“Kaka-sensei!” Sakura stifled her disgust with medical efficiency, hurriedly sealing her olfactory senses as she rushed over to give aid. “What’s happening? Why didn’t you summon help? Are you sick? Were you attacked? Were you poisoned?”

He weakly made a gesture for writing with a brush as she reached to chakra scan his system. She ignored him, biting her lip as she examined first his stomach and then—

“Your lungs!” she gasped. “This is an emergency! Kakashi-sensei, you have Hanahaki Disease and it’s really advanced!” Using her precise chakra control, she internally sliced the blockages into tiny pieces, enabling him to actually productively clear his lungs. Soon the basin was full of little pieces of spongy red-orange petal.

Although he was now breathing noticeably easier, she got him a scroll and brush anyway, since his throat was no doubt sore from the effort of getting rid of the flower. As she did so, she laughingly said, “You know, sensei, whoever you’re in love with has good taste. That looks a lot like a rafflesia, which is my favourite flower. They’re just… so weird and...”

Kakashi just looked at her with his sad, droopy eyes, sunken with exhaustion. Immediately, Sakura felt a horrible stab of guilt. How could she laugh when Kakashi was dying ?

“I’m sorry!” she said, “I don’t know what I was thinking. Don’t worry, sensei! I know I can cure you—”

She stopped because he was writing savagely onto the scroll.

I don’t want to lose the ability to love. I’ve lost so much—not that.

“No, of course not!” She bit her lip. “I mean… I really want to try to figure out a third way other than loss of ability to love and death . Are you sure you can’t be loved by this person in return?”

Kakashi shook his head miserably.

“Have you confessed?”

Kakashi looked away.

“Oh, come on now. You’re Hatake Kakashi, the hero, the Sixth Hokage? And you’re so in love that you’ve got physical proof of it! Who wouldn’t fall for that?”

He didn’t react for a moment, then he wrote on the scroll again.

Many people. What if it were you, for instance?

Sakura laughed. “Well, it’s not like you could possibly love me like that.”

Again, he looked away. The bottom dropped out of Sakura’s stomach and her heart leapt up into her throat. The last time she saw him was just before she left on her mission. It couldn’t be…

“Kakashi…?” she said, actually dropping the honourifics for the first time. He still didn’t look at her. “May I… examine your throat?”

He looked up slowly and peeled down his mask. It was the first time she’d ever seen his full face, yet she couldn’t take her eyes away from his sad, droopy eyes.

And the love in them.

A thousand memories flashed through her mind. She had never before consciously considered him in such a way, but now that she was, it seemed ludicrous that she had never realized it before. He was selfless, funny, loyal, willing to change himself, diligent… and, as she actually let herself take in his whole face, hot as fuck.

Could she… actually like Kakashi back?

Well… she was certainly willing to try.

“My treatment plan,” she said, in her best doctor voice, “is three kisses by mouth, as needed. And weekly dates—with no skipping out on your part of the bill. I’m not saying the man has to pay for me, but sticking me with the tab is just a little unromantic.”

The sad droopy eyes widened.

“Shall I start the first part of the treatment now?”

His adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded.

Sakura leaned forward and pressed a cute peck to his lips. “One—” Another cute peck. “Two—”

He suddenly grabbed her and laid a passionate kiss to her mouth, running his hands through her cherry-blossom locks fervently.

When they finally broke apart, he cleared his throat, thumped his chest a little, and said, with a hint of smugness, “Three.”

an example of the stinky flower that Sakura likes in this story

#my fanfic #kakasaku #kakasakumonth2018 #naruto #long post #hanahaki disease

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bouncyirwin · 6 years

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KakaSaku Month, Week 1

Theme: Summer

Thank you @sayurinomoe for the lovely banner.

Day 1, [4th of June]: Skinny dipping - or - Rainstorm

Day 2, [5th of June]: Road Trip - or - Camping

Day 3, [6th of June]: Stargazing

Day 4, [7th of June]: Truth or Dare

Day 5, [8th of June]: Festival

Your contribution can come in any creative form; art, fan fiction, gifs, etc.

[To participate in KakaSaku Month all you need to do is tag your work with #KakaSakuMonth2018 and specify which prompt it is, for example, #Week1Day1 for the Skinny-dipping prompt.]

Please tag your posts so I could find them, all contributions will be reblogged onto @thekakasakusquad !

Note: Each prompt has to be related to the theme of the week.

Week 2 | Week 3 | Week 4

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to message me or send an ask.

#kakasakumonth2018 #kakasaku month week 1 #kakasaku #kakashi hatake #sakura haruno #sayurinomoe #kakasaku month #naruto

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chaisteabox · 6 years

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Kakasaku Month Week 1, Day 2! Camping! <3 Time for some s’mores next to the fire. Coincidentally could also fit for stargazing, but it is for camping ;) Kakashi likes his marshmallows to light on fire before they’re ashy enough. XD I’ll be back with more!

#kakasakumonth2018 #kakasakumonth #kakasaku #camping #BOOTS #love #that #fire #sparks #stars #kakashi #sakura #fanart #my art

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neraawritesxx · 6 years

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Clemency

Written for KakaSaku Month - Day 1

pairing: kakashi x sakura; implied obito x rin event prompt: summer // rainstorms additional prompt: you buy an obscene number of flowers, and i’m concerned as to why genre: romance // light angst // slice of life word count: 5,250

summary: The first time Sakura meets him, it’s a week after her roommate has died.

a/n: This is extremely late? Like days upon days late. It took me forever to finish, but I’m happy with the end result. Maybe now I can start my other prompts? Lol. Either way, I hope you all enjoy!

note: This work is unbeta’ed so any mistakes are my own.

“It’s starting to rain,” Ino murmurs nonchalantly.

Sakura gives a noncommittal grunt in response, eyes never straying from the flower arrangement in front of her. Blindly, she sifts through the pile of loose blooms that reside on the countertop next to her, choosing a long-stemmed daisy and a row of baby’s breath.

Slowly, meticulously, she snips both stems with her shears, making sure that the floras are at the right length before placing them in the vase. Sakura watches how they fall with a critical eye, moving them into more favorable positions that accentuate the piece then, repeats the processes with the remaining buds.

The flower shop is quiet for a while after that, both girls distracted by their work, the patter of rainfall echoing against the window display.

It’s Ino who eventually breaks their silence.

“I wonder if your friend is going to stop by today.”

“Don’t you have a wedding centerpiece to put together?” Sakura pointedly inquires, though there is no real hostility behind her tone.

Jade eyes shift to look at the clock hanging on the opposite wall before sliding back to the blonde.

“Besides,” Sakura adds. “Even if he were to make an appearance, I won’t be around to see him. You know what today is. I have to leave in a half hour.”

Ino perks up for a moment, eyes wide as sudden comprehension dawns. The fair-haired woman smiles, a sad, half-hearted curl of her lips that doesn’t quite reach her eyes as cobalt hues settle on the decorative bouquet Sakura is putting together.

Ino hums. “I almost forgot,” she states gently. “I should have realized when you took out all of the daisies we had in stock.”

Sakura releases a soft chuckle, turning back to her project. “It’s alright. Just come over here and help me. I don’t want to be late.”

-o-

The first time Sakura meets him, it’s a week after her roommate has died.

Ino insists that she take more time off from the shop, it’s not their busy season, and her best friend maintains that she is more than capable of covering both of their shifts. Sakura turns her down, however, preferring to hide her misery behind forced smiles and menial conversations with their customers.

It takes her mind off of it, helps her forget the pain. If only for a little while.

The rain is heavy that day, pounding unrelentingly against the sidewalk, leaving vast puddles in its wake and forcing most people indoors.

Sakura doesn’t hear him when he enters the shop. Their air conditioner is broken, and they are forced to battle the pungent, sticky haze caused by the weather by keeping the front door open. There is no breeze, but the air that does trickle into the store is cool, despite the humidity.

He slips in while she is distracted, re-reading old text messages from her dearly departed friend.

Sakura likes to think that scouring through old conversations, recounting memories, helps her cope. It’s enjoyable, for the time being, until she reaches the last messages that were sent in their chat thread.

Rin N. (8:24 PM): We’re leaving Obito’s in a minute.

Rin N. (8:25 PM): Promise me that you’ll at least consider going to dinner with Kakashi.

Rin N. (8:25 PM): He’s cute! I know you’ll like him.

Sakura H. (8:26 PM): You’re so worried about my love life! Lol. Focus on your own!

Sakura H. (8:27 PM): But, I will think about it. Okay, Rin?

Sakura H. (8:27 PM): I’ll let you know where my head’s at after I meet him tonight.

Sakura H. (8:28 PM): What’s your ETA?

He clears his throat then, startling her and Sakura’s head shoots up to find him standing a few paces back from the counter. He’s tall, lanky, and has a messy mop of silver hair that sticks out at a bunch of awkward, different angles.

She can’t tell much beyond that.

There is a strip of black cloth over the left side of his face and a hospital mask of the same color covering from the middle of his nose, down. The latter doesn’t surprise her all that much. Most customers with unmanageable pollen allergies tend to cover their faces before venturing into the shop.

The other fabric, however, is somewhat daunting.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, not looking at her, and it takes Sakura a moment to realize that she has forgone a formal greeting, and instead, has been blatantly staring at him.

“Oh,” she says. “Excuse me. I’m so sorry. It’s just one of those days; I can’t help but find myself distracted. Welcome to Yamanaka Flowers. What can I get for you today?”

The new arrival doesn’t immediately say anything, gazing at a fixed point over Sakura’s right shoulder. Another full minute passes before he brings himself to look at her, and when he does, Sakura can’t help but flinch.

He looks…haggard.

Or, at least, that’s what she can make out from the small patch of skin available for inspection.

His lone eye is sunken in, rimmed with the purplish discoloration that comes from extensive lack of sleep. When she gives him another once over, Sakura also notes that he is wearing far too many layers for the season. Despite inclement weather, it’s still summertime in Konoha. The rain could stop in an hour, giving way to the bright, unforgiving rays of the sun. She doesn’t think someone who is dressed in a baggy, mismatching sweat suit would be comfortable when that time came around.

She doesn’t get to explore his fashion choices or how fatigued he looks any further. He decides to speak then, stating, “Hyacinths.”

His request is a raspy croak, muffled behind the material of his mask, and Sakura has no difficulty trying to make out the word.

She blinks, though, somewhat perplexed.

Was that it?

It wasn’t the first time a customer has come in with a specific request, but it was the first time Sakura has dealt with one so vague.

“Ah, okay.” She steps down from the stool she is perched upon, crossing the room towards the refrigerated display. “Um, do you have a preference for the color? Or the amount? We offer small or large bouquets. We’re actually running a sale right now. If you purchase a full bouquet, you can get another for half th–”

“A purple hyacinth,” He cuts in before she could further explain. “Just one.”

“…Just one?” She parrots, confused.

Odd request indeed.

Against her wishes, Ino’s voice pipes up in the back of Sakura’s head, babbling on about the language of flowers.

A purple hyacinth can say many things.

‘I am sorry.’

‘Please forgive me.’

‘I am filled with sorrow.’

At his curt nod, Sakura pulls her cutting sears from the pocket of her apron and snips at a particularly robust hyacinth in the middle of the display. Pulling the flower free, she sets out to intricately wrap the floret with white wrapping paper, tying everything together with a piece of violet twine.

“Here you go,” she declares, holding the bundle out across the counter.

He takes it carefully, and Sakura becomes immediately aware that he is trying to avoid touching her as he extracts it from her grip, his free hand digging into his pants pocket.

“You total is three dollars and tw–” Sakura doesn’t get to finish her statement. In the time it takes her to punch his order into the register, he has already placed a five-dollar bill on the counter and is halfway out the door.

“Hey! Wait! You’re forgetting your change!”

He either doesn’t hear her or chooses to ignore her, because he doesn’t stop, disappearing right out into the rain.

Sakura sits back with a click of her tongue, eyes flicking between the front door and the money that has been set on the counter. She tries to chalk up the oddity of the entire experience as a one-time deal, something that happens every now and again.

The whole situation doesn’t sit well with her for the rest of the shift and remains at the forefront of her mind well into the next day. When she tells Ino about it, the blonde brushes off it off, citing that he was just a loon of a customer and they were bound to get a few of those now and again.

Despite her friend trying to placate her, Sakura still couldn’t help but wonder, just what had he done to be asking for forgiveness?

-o-

Sakura doesn’t see that strange man again for another month.

It’s raining that day also, but it is more of a sun shower than actual rainfall, a quick drizzle to combat the insufferable heat.

They still haven’t gotten the air conditioner fixed, and Ino moans about how her hair is going to frizz. Sakura doesn’t mind all that much. She likes the feel of the wind when it blows through the open door; relishes in the sights, the smells, and the sounds that it brings along with it.

That day though, Sakura’s lethargic and she cannot bring herself to enjoy much of anything.

Obito visited her earlier that afternoon, Chinese takeout in tow. They talk, exchanging as many pleasantries as two people who have lost someone very dear can. She tries her best to avoid the topic altogether, but Sakura has always been curious, and her inquisitive nature has seemed to have gotten the better of her recently.

The scar covering the right half his face is a messy and daunting reminder, and Sakura can’t help but gaze at it when Obito isn’t paying attention. Or, at least, she thought he hadn’t been paying attention. He catches her staring about halfway through their meal and brushes off her hasty attempts at an apology.

He makes some ambiguous joke about how he and his roommate – a man who she has still yet to meet – now have matching deformed faces. Something about how they can use it in the future as a pick-up line.

Sakura tries to laugh along with him, but she knows her smile is strained and Obito’s chuckles are empty and lifeless.

They still don’t address the elephant in the room, and it’s not soon after that he takes his leave, promising to visit her sometime in the upcoming week.

Sakura is alone for about an hour, trying to distract herself with tidying up around the shop. This time, she hears him when he enters, but that is only because he nearly trips over terracotta pot she has removed from the front display while cleaning.

“Oh my god!” Sakura exclaims, scrambling to her feet. She pushes the potted plant back into its rightful place, rubbing her dirty hands along her apron, while stating, “I am so sorry. Are you alright?”

He grunts his assent, righting himself, but says nothing.

When he turns to regard her, his breath leaves him in a soft ‘whoosh,’ and there is a strange straightening of his spine. He looks shocked to see her and Sakura can accurately make that deduction because, not only is his lone charcoal eye impossibly wide as he looks at her, but this time, he has foregone the mask, mouth parted in a small, stupefied ‘o.’

“Oh,” she breathes, trying not to be enticed by his strong jawline or the mole that decorates his chin. “It’s you.”

Her comment seems to snap him out of his stupor, and he collects himself, arching one dark brow in silent question. Sakura smiles despite his self-imposed muteness and walks behind the counter.

“I was wondering if you were going to come back,” she says, opening the cash register. Sakura pulls out an envelope from one of the slots in the drawer, holding it out towards him. “You forgot your change the last time you were here.”

He takes a step closer to the countertop, eye flickering between her face and the packet in her hands. The silence that envelopes the store for the next few moments is uncomfortable, and just when Sakura thinks that he isn’t going to take the proffered package, he quickly snatches it from her grasp.

“Thanks,” he mutters, and Sakura can’t help but be distracted by the movement of his mouth, by the deep tenor of his voice. “You didn’t have to do that.”

The corner of Sakura’s mouth kicks up, and she brushes off his acknowledgment with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s no big deal. We don’t like to overcharge our customers here and with that being said, what can I get for you today?”

His answer is immediate. “White tulips. A dozen.” He hesitates for a second, then adds, “Please.”

Sakura nods, a small smirk playing on her lips, and ventures into the back room where they kept more extensive stock of the commonly purchased flowers. As she’s putting together the garlands per his request, Sakura can’t help but allow her mind to wander to the meaning behind the blooms he chose.

‘White tulips are used to claim worthiness,’ Ino had said. ‘Or to send a message of forgiveness. Depends on what circumstances you’re buying them for.’

When Sakura returns to the front of the shop, the odd customer is hunched down on the opposite side of the counter, staring at the rather impressive selection of Ino’s imported sword lilies.

“What are these?” he asks, fingers pressed against the glass.

“They’re called Gladiolus. They mean strength and integrity. We got the shipment in this week, just in time for the summer season.”

He nods absentmindedly while standing, reaching into his jeans to extract his wallet. “How much for one of those, along with the rest of them?”

Sakura preens, thinking about how she is going to rub it in Ino’s face that she sold one of her precious flowers before her. It takes Sakura another minute to prepare the additional bud with soft wrappings, but when she’s finished, she places it and the other bouquet on the countertop in front of him.

Quick, deft fingers punch his order into the register and Sakura chirps, “That’ll be fourteen dollars and fifty-three cents.”

Much like their first interaction, by the time the words are out of her mouth, there is money on the counter and he is already out the door.

Unlike their last meeting, however, he leaves Sakura with a twenty-dollar bill and the exotic lily he had purchased last minute.

-o-

It’s three weeks before his next visit.

It’s not raining that day, but the sky is dark with the promise of an impending storm. Sakura is out visiting Sai and Naruto on her lunch break when he comes into the store.

Not only does she get an earful about the ‘really odd, yet totally hot’ customer from Ino when she gets back, but she also finds that he left a single, pink carnation behind.

“It was weird,” Ino states while putting together a bridal shower arraignment. “He bought almost two dozen striped carnations. That caught his eye last minute, and he insisted on buying it, only to leave it here.”

Sakura can’t help but smile for the rest of the day.

-o-

The interval between that visit and his next is extremely short; only five days.

The heavens have opened; lightning streaks across the sky and thunder reverberates throughout the store, leaving Sakura to try and drown out the resonances with soft music from Ino’s stereo.

The welcoming chime of the bell above the door signals his arrival, and as Sakura looks up, she can’t help but grin.

“Long time no see,” she greets.

He’s not looking at her, but she knows he heard her. His one eye is trained on the single, bubblegum pink carnation sitting in a vase next to the register.

“Ino said you left it here,” Sakura finds herself explaining. She doesn’t really know why. “It was already cut, and I didn’t want to see it go to waste. I figured it would be a cute decoration.”

He gives a short bob of his head, and the very corner of his mouth curls up for just a moment. It’s not a smile, it’s more like a simple twitch of movement, but it’s something, and Sakura feels her heart stutter at the sight of it.

“I’m glad it made it into the right hands, then,” he starts, finally looking up at her from under a frame of dark lashes. “Anemones, please. Just two.”

Sakura puts together his order as specified, trying to blame the rising heat in her cheeks on the fact that they still have yet to get the air conditioner repaired. She can’t help but wonder what’s hidden underneath that strip of black cloth, about what exactly his face looks like without the obscurity.

“I also don’t have your change from last time,” she calls out as she’s wrapping the flowerets in paper that’s a shade darker than her hair. “Ino mucked up the cash one day and used it to break another customer’s bigger bill.”

He shrugs, seemingly nonplussed by the news.

They finish up their transaction quickly after that. This time he gives Sakura the exact amount of money, down to the penny and offers her a small wave as he makes his way out the door.

“See you soon,” he bids in farewell and Sakura can’t help but beam and wave after him.

-o-

He has a funny definition of ‘soon’ because Sakura doesn’t see him again for another four months.

That’s not to say he doesn’t come into the store, because he does, but summer has given way to fall, and school has started again, taking up most of Sakura’s free time and leaving her with only a handful of shifts at the shop.

Ino informs her of his appearances and proceeds to make fun of Sakura as her eyes light up with the new information. He sometimes leaves her a flower, sometimes he forgets his change, and sometimes he does neither, but his visits never cease.

Sakura brushes off Ino’s teasing, citing that it is not a crush. She does not have a crush on a customer. It is intrigue. Despite his noticeably handsome looks, Sakura is more interested in the mystery behind that mask. Ino doesn’t believe her.

Sakura tries to think up different scenarios in her head, formulating a plan to ask him for his name in the least creepy way possible. Ino joins her in plotting, only because he has yet to use a credit card, and the fair-haired woman is damn curious herself. They giggle maniacally as they come up with different ideas, and for the first time in a long while, Sakura finds herself looking forward to something.

When she finally does see him again, though, Sakura is in a horrid mood and asking for his name is the furthest thing from her mind.

Obito called a few minutes prior wanting to discuss a few things about Rin. They had gotten better at talking. More specifically, they had gotten better at talking about her. Obito stopped looking like he about to burst into tears at the mention of Rin’s name, and Sakura, well, she felt a little less hollow.

The friendly formalities didn’t last long because Obito informed her that he wanted to come to the apartment and clean out some of Rin’s things; keep some for himself, put some in storage, and throw out whatever was left.

Sakura vehemently refused.

‘Damn it, Sakura! It’s been months!’ he yells in her ear. ‘I don’t know who is worse, you or Kakashi! I miss her too but clinging to all of her stuff like this is toxic. She’s gone, and as much as it kills me to say it, she is never coming back. We need to get rid of some of it. We need to move on.’

If Obito really missed Rin, he wouldn’t be throwing out her belongings. Sakura tells him as much.

That seems to do the trick because his tone is much quieter when he addresses her again.

‘We’ve been going to grief counseling, Kakashi and I. The therapist says that doing this is a step in the right direction. That things will get better. I…,’ His voice cracks on the other end of the phone. ‘I need to get better. It fucking hurts, and I’m tired of it. You and Kakashi need to stop blaming yourselves. It’s nobody's fault; it was an accident. And we all need to try and move on. I’m doing this, with or without you there.’

Because she is sick of being compared to and roped together with a man she has never met.

Because she doesn’t want to think about how that night was her idea and they would have never gotten into the car if she wasn’t so insistent on them picking her up.

Because she feels physically ill due to their discussion.

And just because she is fucking pissed off that Obito is dropping this on her out of the blue, Sakura hangs up on him.

Obito tries to call her back twice. She lets both calls ring until her voicemail kicks in. He doesn’t try to call her a third time.

Sakura doesn’t turn towards the door when she hears it open, nor does she grant the new customer any attention when she feels their presence draw near the counter.

It is one of the rare occasions that she and Ino are working the same shift, and her best friend – bless her big, goofy heart – heard the entire argument and knew that Sakura is nowhere near capable of talking to anyone at that moment. She interjects with, “Welcome to Yamanaka Flowers. What can I get for you today?”

“Sunflowers,” a very familiar voice demands.

Ino must not have been paying all that much attention to who walked in either, because there is a long, drawn-out silence followed by a sudden shift as Ino scrambles to stand from her stool.

“Hello again,” Sakura hears Ino comment. It sounds more like an excited purr. Ino is laying it on too thick, but Sakura can tell that she is just excited by the prospect of finally getting his name. “Do you want a bouquet or just a specific amount like two or three?”

“I don’t care,” he snaps impatiently. “Just…just give me whatever you can…please.”

The ‘please’ is a last-minute addition that is used to try and take the edge off of his command, but it doesn’t work. Sakura can feel Ino’s irritation from where she is sitting, and when she finally drags her eyes towards the register, the mysterious customer and Ino are glaring each other down.

His expression is thunderous, but Ino’s irritated scowl gives him a run for his money. The young Yamanaka tosses the bundle of flowers on the countertop unceremoniously, uncaring about her lack of social propriety.

He doesn’t even ask for a total, slapping money on the counter without any concern to if it is over or under the correct amount. He takes a step back, quickly glancing in Sakura’s direction before pausing. His gaze feels piercing, like it’s picking her apart from the inside out and looking into her very soul. It carries far too much weight, too much pain and anguish, and it makes Sakura want to squirm in her seat.

In a flurry of movement that neither she nor Ino could follow, he rips one of the sunflowers from its intricate packaging, tosses it onto the counter and turns to the exit, slamming the door as he leaves.

For the next twenty minutes, Sakura half-heartedly listens to Ino gripe and groan about the entire ordeal.

“What a dick,” Ino seethes. “I don’t care if he was in a bad mood, he didn’t have to be so rude about it.”

Sakura hums her agreement, staring at the sunflower in her grasp. She runs her fingers along the stem gently, plucking a single, loose petal free and twirling it between her fingers

The meaning behind them hits her suddenly, like a punch to the gut.

“Loyalty…,” she mumbles under her breath. Her visions blurs as she sighs dejectedly, “…Rin…”

Ino stops, mid-rant, casting Sakura a confused glance. The blonde’s befuddled expression doesn’t last long, her face contorting into a worried frown almost immediately.

“Forehead,” Ino starts, cautiously. “Are you alright?”

It’s only then that Sakura realizes that she’s crying.

-o-

She doesn’t see him again after that and Sakura tries not to dwell on it.

Instead, she throws herself into her work, school, and friends. Focusing all of her attention on bettering herself; on growing, on learning, and on healing. At first, she does it as more of an avoidance tactic, but after an extended visit to Rin’s grave, Sakura comes to terms with the fact that she genuinely isn’t coping as well as she thought.

Something needs to change.

She needs to change.

So, when Obito comes by her apartment later that week to clean out Rin’s things, she joins him.

They spend the better part of the next two days going through all of Rin’s stuff, laughing and crying and reminiscing as they poke and prod through different shelves, piles, and drawers.

After it’s all over, Obito hugs her; a bone-crushing embrace that expresses his sadness and relief and a whole other maelstrom of emotions that Sakura cannot bring herself to try and grasp.

“We’ll be alright,” she hums in his ear, trying to fight off the pinprick of tears in her eyes. He pulls her even closer as she repeats, “We’ll be alright.”

They would be.

-o-

“Are you sure you’re okay with us coming with you?” Naruto asks for the third time that day.

Before Sakura can soothe her friend’s fears, Sasuke answers for her, “Yes, Dobe. Stop asking. Her answer hasn’t changed in the last ten minutes, or are you hard of hearing?”

Naruto shoots Sasuke a dark look but doesn’t rise to the taunt. He instead focuses his attention on the arrangement of daisies in his hand.

“This bouquet is really pretty Sakura-chan,” he compliments with a board grin. “I’m sure Rin would love it.”

“Me too,” Sakura chirps with a smile. She skips on ahead of them, slipping through the iron gates of the cemetery with relative ease.

It’s officially been a year since Rin’s passing and, though, most days it’s still a difficult thing to think about, the wound is no longer fresh. It’s more of a dull ache rather than a festering, scalding burn and Sakura is finding it easier to address openly.

She and Obito have been in contact with one another quite frequently, but her new admission into medical school and his demanding family obligations keep them from meeting as often as they would prefer. That doesn’t stop him from checking in on her at least once a week, and it also helps that he bullied Sasuke and Naruto into looking after her. As smothering as all three of them can sometimes be, Sakura is still warmed by the gesture.

“Will you stop bouncing around?” Sasuke says. “You’re going to give me a headache.”

Sakura sticks her tongue out at him. “I’m excited,” she clarifies. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to visit Rin. Plus, Obito said he is going to meet us there. I haven’t seen him in ages!”

“Leave her alone, Teme. We’re Sakura-chan’s guest today, so lighten up!”

Sasuke grumbles something under his breath that neither of them can catch but says nothing to refute Naruto’s reprimand.

They travel the rest of the way in companionable silence, and it’s not long before the trio is wandering down a familiar isle of gravestones. At the end of the row, standing in front of a large memorial, are two men.

Whatever Obito’s cheerful salutation is, it falls on deaf ears as Sakura attention is honed in on the male standing next to him.

He appears the same; the same hairstyle, same odd, yet seemingly comfortable fashion sense. But, he doesn’t look as tired.

He looks more firm, solid, like he dealt with whatever had been weighing him down.

He also had foregone his usual facial coverings, and for the first time since she met him all those months ago, Sakura gets a full view of his face. He is just as tragically beautiful as she expected him to be, even more so with the large scar dissecting his left eye.

Obito catches her gaping and chuckles. “I forgot you two still haven’t met. Kakashi, this is Sakura. Sakura this is my best friend slash roomie Kakashi.”

“It’s good to see you again,” her mysterious customer – Kakashi – greets, hand extended.

Sakura smiles, enveloping his outstretched hand with her own. “Likewise.”

The three other men in the crowd blink, casting them varying speculative glances.

Their handshake extends past what could be considered socially acceptable and when he finally pulls away, Kakashi seems hesitant about letting Sakura go, fingers skimming the inside of her palm.

Sakura is sure that Sasuke catches the caress, and is almost positive that Obito does too, because both of their eyes narrow fractionally.

Naruto, ever the bravely uncloth, inquires, “Wait…You two already know each other already?”

-o-

“Did you know?” She asks him sometime later.

After their visit to Rin’s grave is concluded, Naruto suggested grabbing a bite to eat, which everyone, except for Sasuke, readily agreed to.

Kakashi turns to address her, shaking his head. “Not at first,” he says. “Obito came across a picture of you two when he was boxing up some of Rin’s stuff at our apartment. He showed me, but I didn’t put two and two together until after I came to the shop for the second time. Not many girls in Konoha have naturally pink hair.”

Sakura blushes, fingering a wayward cherry strand as she nods slowly. There’s a short pause and then she queries, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Kakashi doesn’t answer immediately and glances away from her, choosing to instead focus his attention on Obito and Naruto, both of whom were trying to see who could finish their bowl of ramen first. Sasuke watched on with an expression of muted horror.

“I didn’t think it was proper,” Kakashi eventually comments. “I was going through some stuff. We were all going through some stuff. Given the circumstances that they were trying to get us to meet originally, it really didn’t seem right for me to push that on you suddenly.”

It was now Sakura’s turn to be quiet as she processed the new information she was given. Kakashi didn’t seem to mind her silence, focusing on finishing off his meal while she mulled over his words.

“I think you’re right,” she starts a few minutes later. “I wouldn’t have handled it well, not with everything going on since the accident.”

Sakura stops to release a deep breath before continuing. “But, I’d like to think that I’m in a better place now and that’s thanks to things I’ve learned from Obito, from Rin, from you. And I’m not…not sure how’d you feel about it, but maybe…would you maybe want to get coffee sometime?”

Before he can respond to her question, the following words are out of her mouth in a jumbled rush, “It doesn’t have to be anything like that. It just would be nice, you know? To talk and stuff…to get to know someone who was important to Rin.”

He gives her a lazy smile; it’s fuller, bigger than the one that made her heart skip a beat that day in the store.

It steals her breath away.

“I’d like that.”

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bluefurcape · 6 years

Text

Sakura and Kakashi - Part 2

Part 1 here!

For the “Locked In” prompt for Kakasaku Month 2018!!!!!!!! @thekakasakusquad @itslulu42

Phew, wasn’t really planning for it to be this long. I will be posting this on ao3 and ff after some light edits. Thanks for reading!

September was the month that she’d gotten divorced. One day, she’d woken up alone in the bed that she’d shared with her ex-husband and realized that seven years had gone by. She’d wondered then when she’d learned to just accept how things had become. The dinners with just her and Sarada. The parent-teacher conferences where the instructor sympathetically, if mistakenly, patted Sakura’s hand for being so brave as a single mother. The fact that not a closet in their home contained a single item of Sasuke’s clothing.

Maybe she could have handled it if Sasuke’s coldness had only extended to her, but she noticed Sarada watching Inojin with his father at the summer lantern festival with a sadness that broke her heart. Over and over again, Sarada bit her lower lip before shaking it off and putting on a brave face. She was just a child, born into this world with all of Sakura’s love. Sakura knew something had to change.

The divorce was messy, a process that she didn’t care to relive if she could help it. Some people that she thought were her friends turned on her, blamed her for her marriage falling apart. Ino was always there for her and for that she would be truly grateful. Naruto did his best, though on the most basic level, he didn’t understand why Sasuke just couldn’t get it together. At least he hadn’t tried the same kind of stunt he was pulling tonight with her and Sasuke. She shuddered to imagine what kind of permanent damage that would have done. Kakashi at least was willing to humor this. She imagined Sasuke would have renounced Konoha for good, if the situation had been forced on him.

Ino was the shoulder that Sakura had cried on, but Kakashi had been there for her in his own way. Take-out dinners picked up for her and Sarada. Training sessions here and there to help her daughter with a particularly tricky technique. A leak fixed in their ceiling after a particularly bad storm. Chance encounters that always made her feel like the world wasn’t so bad, reminding her that she still had people that she could trust.

The only exit to the room remained secured, the seal glaring back at her like a disembodied eyeball. She couldn't believe that she was still here. She took a piece of paper from the stack of notes left on the table, and after noting that it was regarding a meeting on nothing important (just Naruto’s doodles and a few ideas for Icha Icha fanfiction) she tore little pieces from it and crumpled them into balls. The repetitive action soothed her somewhat.

Eventually, she grew tired of sitting on the chair and, because it was preferable over the floor, she chose to stretch out on top of the table, staring up at the recessed lighting on the ceiling. The fatigue of the day caught up to her and she longed for her bed. She had never been much of a night owl by nature, but she had a suspicion that the same was not true for Kakashi. He remained as he was, engrossed in his book without a single complaint. Paired with the fact that he often would show up to training sessions scheduled to begin in the morning well into the afternoon, she surmised that he probably preferred being awake at night.

"This is so pointless," she said under her breath. To her surprise, Kakashi's gaze flickered up to her. She could almost believe that she had imagined breaking through his general shield of indifference. The silence had stretched this long, so she wondered why he reacted at all. Being forced into the same room together seemed like an ill thought through plan, a matter-of-fact strategy that was not surprising coming from Naruto. Despite the years since they’d both been taken off active duty, they were still both shinobi. They had endured worse interrogation techniques, though she was tempted to say that this was going to make the top ten. She supposed she should be touched that Naruto still retained more than a touch of the naivete of his youth. He believed in the best version of people, meaning that he failed to understand why people just couldn't get along. It must have been especially hard to swallow when it came to his old teammates. But sometimes that was just how it was. Teams grew apart, lost contact. It was a natural part of life.

"You should sleep. It'll make the time pass faster," Kakashi said. The statement didn’t count as a real conversation, though it would be the first time that he’d spoken more than two words at once to her in more than a year. It veered towards a command, the kind a superior officer would drop curtly. All business.

A part of her didn't want to give him the satisfaction of ordering her around, like he was still her captain, but she was tired. She refused to answer him, turning away and closing her eyes, aggressively trying to fall asleep. Even breathing. Clearing her mind. Counting by multiples of three. She used all of the tactics at her disposal to make herself fall unconscious, but success eluded her. Her brows knitted together.

The problem was that she realized she could feel his attention on her back.

“Quit staring,” she demanded. At the same time, her curiosity speculated wildly on the reason for his eyes being on her.

He coughed. The chair legs dragged as he shifted his position. She held her breath as she waited for his response, but there was none. Did he finally want to talk or was there something gross stuck to her back? She discreetly reached around and patted the area.

“Do you have an itch?” Kakashi asked.

Immediately, she retracted her hand. “No.”

“Naruto…sure is something. Isn’t he?”

“He’s an idiot.”

Kakashi sighed. “I didn’t realize that it had become this bad.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I regularly stop speaking to some of my oldest friends all the time. It’s a completely normal thing to do.”

“…Sorry.”

She sat up, incredulous. “Sorry? That’s it? Sorry? You ignored me for a year. What did—” She stopped herself, realizing that she was about to ask him what she had done wrong, because her default always went to a place where the fault lied with her.”Never mind, there’s no point.” She turned away again to lie on her side, showing her back to him. She cringed at herself, torn between feeling like a bitch and feeling weak. Neither made her consider herself a very good person.

She heard the pages of his book rustle as he closed them. He asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m not.” Screw it, if they weren’t friends anymore, at the very least she was going to get some kind of closure. She rolled to her back, her body hitting the table like a sack of potatoes with a thump. “Why did you stop talking to me?”

He blinked, the book in his hand halfway raised in hesitation, as if he was considering just hiding his face instead of responding. The muscles in his neck tightened as he swallowed. Finally, he sighed. “I was distracted by a few things.”

Her lips pressed together. She wanted to shoot back that she had seen him out and about, talking with Genma, doing stupid shit with Gai, even grabbing a bowl of ramen with Naruto. She didn’t want to admit just how closely she’d been paying attention, knowing that it would only make her appear needy and insecure. “You could have come to me if you needed help,” she said softly, deciding to ignore what she felt was a lie. Arguing about it would only end badly.

“I wouldn’t want to burden you like that.”

“That’s what friends do. They come to each other for help.” Perhaps they weren’t friends. Perhaps they never had been. Pity could have motivated him to help her back then. She ignored the aching emptiness the thought left in her. “I guess you didn’t see me like that.” He didn’t want to rely upon her.

“I couldn’t come to you for this,” he murmured.

“But we are friends,” she said, contradicting the voice of doubt in her head.

“Of course.”

She grabbed one of the small pieces of crumpled paper that she’d been piling on the table. She threw them at him, one by one. “Friends. Don’t. Do. What. You. Did.” It wasn’t cool. The unaffected, stoic asshole act had lost its appeal to her long ago.

He took the barrage of paper balls without changing his expression. Tiny pieces got stuck in his hair. She giggled, which broke into full on laughter, at his ridiculous appearance. The corners of his mouth tilted up.

“Good to see you finally cracking a smile after all this time,” she said.

“You were always able to make me smile.”

The revelation touched her, but her bright expression faltered. “Then tell me why you stopped talking to me.”

He closed his eyes. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

If not for the chakra dampening stone, Kakashi would have disappeared after his cryptic refusal. She was at a loss on how to draw out the conversation, so she let it drop.

She accepted that sleep was an impossibility for the night. Kakashi went back to reading his Icha Icha in isolation and she was bored. In her delirium formed from a combination of a lack of rest and her emotions, she put together a doll of Kakashi, made of a permanent marker that she’d scavenged out of on of the cabinets and taped on some paper hair cut to resemble his spiky silhouette. She made one of herself too out of a pink highlighter.

“My name is Kakashi, and I’m a big ol’ jerk,” she made the makeshift doll say in her terrible imitation of his voice. She glanced over at Kakashi, who flipped through the pages of Icha Icha in deep concentration. The small bit of conversation that they’d had cleared the largest elephant in the room, but not much had been resolved. He still hadn’t explained why he’d ignored her for so long. In fact, he made it clear just how reluctant he was to broach the subject. She continued in the little Kakashi’s voice, wanting to provoke a reaction, if anything, “Icha Icha is the worst. You know that it doesn’t matter if any of the characters die because they just come back to life later on! There’s no real stakes in the story.”

Kakashi’s brow rose.

She waved little Kakashi in the air dramatically. “The love story in Icha Icha Violence doesn’t have enough development. Am I supposed to believe that Yuki and Soichiro are hot for each other at first sight when they have nothing in common?”

Kakashi started drumming his fingers on the table.

“The villain’s motivation is so weak—so he’s just mad that Soichiro was rude to him? Is that a good enough reason to try and wreck everyone’s lives?” she made the Sakura doll say.

“You’re missing the point of Icha Icha completely,” Kakashi interrupted, an edge of irritation in his voice.

“Enlighten me.”

He leaned forward, on the verge of launching a tirade, before he stopped himself. He settled back into his seat, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

She wasn’t even worth the effort of a stupid argument about made up characters. She let the makeshift dolls fall, her shoulders shaking. “That’s how it always is, isn’t it? Do you know how hard it’s been for me to accept that this is how it’s going to be?” Things had been different right after the war. She couldn’t claim they had been bosom buddies, but there had been more to their relationship than this awkward, tense silence. Her divorce had been difficult. Sasuke had not taken it well, though in the end, he accepted that it was over. During those awful days, her random encounters with Kakashi had been some of the only times that she had been able to smile. He broke through the misery and guilt. She had always trusted him, but she came to learn exactly why. He was there for her in unexpected ways. Not to fix her. He was just…there

And at one point she had thought they were becoming…something more. “I missed you, Kakashi. Really missed you. You were part of my team.” To her horror, tears dripped down her face. Her voice cracked. “You locked me out.”

She hid her face, ashamed that she couldn’t stop crying. The floodgates were open and the truth was, she was never okay with losing Kakashi. She needed his odd, stabilizing presence in her life; the past year had shown her just how much she needed him.

She heard his chair scrape across the carpet and looked up. He moved quickly when he needed to and suddenly he was by the door, sizing it up, then rearing back and slamming his fist into it. Predictably, the seal remained whole, but he stood there, frozen.

“Kakashi?”

He hissed out a swear, falling to his knees and clutching his hand, his knuckles rapidly swelling to an ugly red that had a promise of a darker bruise as time went on. Sakura hurried to him, instinctively reaching for her chakra. Belatedly, she remembered she couldn’t heal as she needed to here. “You idiot, what have you done?” She clicked her tongue and gently cradled his hand. “Did my crying make you so uncomfortable that you actually tried punching your way out? You’re going to have to deal with a broken hand until we get out. Stupid.” She called him other variations of a person without low intelligence as she rummaged through the cabinets for some kind of emergency medical kit.

He watched her as she set the bones, wincing, but quiet. She managed to find painkillers and gave him a triple dosage to help him get through it until morning.

“I’m sorry that you’re always having to fix me up,” he murmured.

She looked up in surprise. “What’s wrong with that?” She smiled, wiping away the remnants of her tears. “You’re my friend. I don’t mind because I care about you.” She let her voice drop. “You mean a lot to me. I just wish you cared about me too, just a little bit.”

She felt his uninjured hand trace her jawline. “I do care, Sakura.”

“Then why?” Her eyes were filling again with tears. He knew exactly what she was asking him about.

He confessed everything.

Kakashi wanted to see her again.

One day, he woke up with that realization and felt his stomach drop. Sakura was a bright, kind woman, with a young child to care for. She had only just gotten through her divorce with a man that she had tried hard to love since she was a child. It must have been difficult giving that up in so many ways. He berated himself for being selfish.

But he never claimed to be a good man. He still found himself running errands around the time that he knew that she would be out and about. Or heading to the hospital during her shift for an injury he could have easily avoided during a bet with Gai. More frequently, he came up with flimsy excuses to cross paths with her. Just hearing her laugh made his day.

He didn’t dare hope that she felt the same way, though there were a few signs that even he picked up. There were the lingering glances. The non-verbal communications that passed between them as easily as if they could speak telepathically. The times when their hands brushed together and remained touching.

He could see a life with her, clear as day. Happy. That state almost seemed like a foreign concept, but he found himself daydreaming about it anyway. He couldn’t offer her much, just himself, and he had to admit that sounded like poor prospects. He didn’t exactly go courting frequently. And he was pretty sure that nobody called it ‘courting.’ Even his thoughts were proving to him that he was an out-of-touch old man. But if she wanted him too…

He waited, gathering the courage to say something. Simply being by her side was enough. His day was good if she turned her smile on him. A little pathetic, he realized.

Kakashi had fallen hard and fast.

He was on his way to the bookstore to pick up a copy of a title that Sakura had recommended, when Sasuke’s voice from an alleyway stopped him in his tracks. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Good afternoon to you too, stranger.” Kakashi touched two fingers to his temple in a loose salute. After the divorce, Sasuke had cleared out of Konoha. Not that he had kept his residency here for long periods of time before, but he even cut contact with Naruto. Kakashi only knew that because Naruto included it on his drunken list of grievances against Sasuke. It was extensive, detailed, and repeating.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sasuke repeated more firmly, stepping out onto the street. He had lost weight. His cheekbones cut more sharply than Kakashi remembered.

“Going…to buy a book?”

Sasuke scowled. “You know what I mean—with Sakura. I come back and find out that you’ve been hanging around her like a puppy.”

“We run in to each sometimes.” Many times a week.

“You fixed a leaking ceiling in her house?” His glare grew pointed. “That better not have been a euphemism.” For a man who chose to be a wandering hermit, he was surprisingly up to date on the gossip.

“Is there a point to this? I have places to be.”

“The divorce only went through three months ago,” Sasuke pointed out.

“Oh, has it been that long?” Kakashi feigned, well aware of the timeline.

“You’re a vulture. The ink’s barely dried.”

“Sakura and I are friends, Sasuke.” Kakashi was a touch exasperated.

Sasuke continued as if he hadn’t spoken, voice lowered in bitterness, “We don’t deserve her.” That gave Kakashi pause, the subtly snarky responses that he’d been volleying back dying in his throat half-formed. “You know it. We’re more alike than I’d like to admit.”

That must have taken a lot for Sasuke to concede, given that he seemed to enjoy flaunting his own rarity through the ‘Last of the Uchiha’ status. (Seemed like he was a bad father, though, forgetting that Sarada was also an Uchiha.) A reluctant part of Kakashi agreed with Sasuke. Kakashi was not a superstitious man, but it did feel sometimes like a curse had followed both of them around for their lives. Misery affected the people that they loved the most. Sasuke had not been able to make Sakura happy and she had chased after him since she was a child. Was it arrogant to think that Kakashi could do any better?

“For her sake,” Sasuke said, “leave her be. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Forgive me if I don’t put a lot of stock in your judgment.” Kakashi drew himself up.

“Then what about this: did you know that there is a lengthy appeal process for divorce?” Sasuke tilted his head, regarding Kakashi coldly. “The statute of limitations is two years. The Council frowns upon divorce and gives every opportunity for couples to work it out.”

Kakashi blinked deliberately, not wanting to betray his thoughts as he put two and two together. “Is that a threat?”

“I gave Sakura what she wanted, but I will still protect her. She needs a different kind of man, not someone like us.”

Someone like us. The words echoed in Kakashi’s mind with growing intensity.

Sasuke stepped back into the shadows of the alley behind him with a stony expression. The red of his sharingan eyes glowed even in the dim light.

His message had been clear.

At the conclusion of his story, Kakashi said, “I couldn’t let him put you through the divorce again.” He looked down. “And I didn’t think I mattered enough if I disappeared.”

Oh, she was going to kill Sasuke.

Despite his injury, Sakura punched Kakashi in the shoulder as hard as she could. He yelped. “We’re idiots,” she whispered, then she pulled down his mask and kissed him.

The kiss was sweet, tinged with a year’s worth of longing. He had believed that he mattered so little to her that he could just leave. She wanted him to know how far away from the truth he was. Her lips on his were a promise and when she felt him respond, her heart soared.

She couldn’t help but laugh as a thought occurred to her. “So Sasuke told you not to date me, and you cut off all contact?” The ridiculous logic of it was not fitting with her.

He flushed as he sheepishly admitted, “It was a little extreme, but I couldn’t go halfway. I—” his gaze lowered to her mouth, “—couldn’t trust myself.”

She hummed to herself, leaning closer. “I’m still mad at you. You have a lot of making up to do.”

“I’ll try my best,” he breathed and kissed her again.

The door to the room swung open. From somewhere in the back of the group, Kiba groaned, “They’re not naked!”

“Gross,” Ino replied, shoving him.

“Are there any shrimp chips left?” Naruto peered at the discarded bags of various junk food.

Sakura sat up from the table that she and Kakashi had been sharing as comfortably as they could (not very). Her back ached, but not from any lewd acts, as much as she would have preferred that. She scowled, crossing her arms across her chest. “You assholes, I can’t believe you did this to us.” She sniffed. “We ate everything in the cabinets.”

“Everything!” Naruto shouted in outrage. “Even my limited edition fire ramen that I hid in the vent?”

“Especially the limited edition fire ramen,” Kakashi said.

Naruto’s face crumpled. Then, just as quickly, he brightened. “You two look like you’re getting along much better. I knew my plan would work.”

“Actually, we’re mortal enemies now.” Sakura shot a glance at Kakashi, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

“Huh?” Naruto looked to the older man for an explanation, but received none. “Mortal enemies?”

“She is my nemesis. Come on, we’ll let you buy us breakfast.” Kakashi hopped off the table.

Naruto remained behind, frowning as if he was doing highly complicated calculus in his brain. It wasn’t until he saw Kakashi take Sakura’s hand that he finally understood the joke.

He punched the air. “I’M A FLIPPING GENIUS.”

#kakasakumonth2018 #week3day5 #kakasaku #my writing #sakura and kakashi

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