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myaekingheart · 4 years ago

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131. Say Yes to the Dress

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Rei opened and closed her fist as she made her way to the bookshop. It was a beautiful morning but not even the weather could quell her relentless panic. She only wished Toshio could be with her to ground her and remind her that everything would be okay. Even he seemed displeased that he could not join her, watching her curiously as she made her way to the front door to leave. He leapt to his feet, eager to accompany her, spotted tongue lopping out of the side of his mouth. He didn’t quite seem to understand when she lifted her palm and told him stay, tilting his head curiously as she backed up and promised him she would be home soon. As much as it pained her to leave him, it only made sense. Bridal shops were never very welcoming of dogs.

Still, a part of her would’ve loved to see the inevitable chaos unfold. Toshio would be like a bull in a china shop, making a mess of everything. It would serve as a rare bright spot in an otherwise unappealing day.

And truly, it wasn’t that Rei was against trying on wedding dresses. She knew it needed to happen and besides, wasn’t she desperate for the relief? Hadn’t she been manic with all that still needed to be done? With fears that she was running out of time? And really, what was more important to a wedding than a dress?

The child in her revered the thought with starry eyes, envisioning herself decked out like a fairytale princess. Within that excitement, however, was a very adult sense of fear. Shopping was never her forte and trying on clothes was dull and excessive. She remembered the shopping sprees that Naru would drag her on, the way she would encourage Rei to give every single garment a test-run. How can you know whether or not you’ll love it if you don’t actually wear it? She would ask. While Naru always enjoyed the glamour of it, posing in front of the mirror and playing with different skirt and shirt combinations, Rei always left exhausted and unfulfilled. Nothing ever looked as good on her body as it did on a hanger, or even worse on a picture-perfect mannequin.

Unfortunately, this sentiment could not be truer than it was now. Rei chewed her bottom lip, discretely smoothed her tunic over her stomach. She had skipped breakfast that morning just to be safe.

The chaos of the bookshop had significantly dwindled down over the past few days—a fact that Rei was grateful for now. The plan was simple: she would retrieve her mother and then they would both meet up with Sekkachi at the bridal shop for a two hour appointment of drowning in chiffon. Or at least Rei hoped they would meet Sekkachi. A part of her wouldn’t be surprised to find her bail. Lucky bitch, Rei thought to herself.

Hana looked up form the register as the little bell above the door chimed to signal Rei’s arrival. A young girl poked her head out from behind the sparse shelves and watched curiously. “There you are!” Hana exclaimed. She slipped out of her apron and tossed it on the stool behind the counter. “I was starting to fear that you weren’t going to show.”

“Why?” Rei asked, cocking a brow. She checked the clock on the adjacent wall. “We’ve still got fifteen more minutes.”

Hana shook her head in amused disdain as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “You never show up any later than thirty minutes early to these sorts of things” she corrected. Rei frowned. What was the point in showing up so early if you were bound to just wait around anyway? She didn’t see the point. If she had to spend even five more minutes than necessary in that bridal shop, she was definitely going to strangle herself with a lace garter.

As they approached the bookshop’s exit, the young girl hiding behind the bookshelves poked her head out expectantly. “Leaving already, Mrs. Natsuki?” she asked.

Hana nodded. “Now Yuzu, dear, are you sure you’ll be alright here on your own for a few hours?” she asked.

Yuzu? Rei thought to herself. She watched the girl grin and nod with utmost confidence—far more than appropriate for someone her age. She was a toothy kid, surely no older than twelve, with sandy blonde hair and thick fuschia glasses—the lenses of which magnified her sea-blue eyes much like the man at the antiques shop. She must’ve been legally blind, a sentiment only further enforced by her fashion sense. Her outfit was an obnoxious amalgamation of bright colors and mismatched patterns, childish and almost even clownish. Rei recognized the texts hugged to her chest as political memoirs.

“Don’t you worry, Mrs. Natsuki!” Yuzu replied. “I’ll make sure to keep everything running nice and smooth while you’re gone! And if anyone tries to start trouble, I’ll remind them that the real enemy is not me but the oppressive military establishment of capitalist Konoha as a whole! I think that should set them straight.” Here, she winked and Rei’s face suddenly felt hot and tense.

Hana nodded absently and waved her off as she exited the store, completely unaffected by this young girl’s words. Rei blinked, frozen for a solid ten seconds, before rushing off after her mother.

“So, uh, who’s the kid?” Rei asked as they turned the corner.

“Oh, just some extra help around the store!” Hana chirped. “Your father decided we needed an extra hand and Yuzu seemed bright and capable so we hired her!”

Yet again, Rei caught herself blinking in disbelief. “You know, if you guys needed a hand around the shop, you could’ve just asked me” she replied. “I’m still willing to come in and help out on my days off.” After all, wasn’t this a family business? That little kid was in no way family. Or at least no family of Rei’s.

Hana hummed and shook her head. “Well, now that you’re a captain, I figured you wouldn’t have any time for us. We all know how busy you must be” she said. She glanced to Rei with an ambiguous expression—something bordering ingenuity, or pity, or perhaps fullblown condescension. Either way, it made Rei’s blood boil.

Pursing her lips, Rei wrapped her arms tight around her waist and quickened her pace. After all, they didn’t want to be late, did they? As she sped toward the bridal shop, she muttered sourly under her breath, “Yeah, well I think she needs to get some sense knocked into her.” She couldn’t imagine her father taking very kindly to his new employee’s stances, but that wasn’t Rei’s problem. She wasn’t responsible for ironing out the consequences of her parents’ decisions—even if Yuzu’s personal politics felt like a slap in the face to the ANBU captain.

Much to Rei’s relief, Sekkachi was waiting dutifully for them outside the shop. A cigarette clenched between her teeth, she leaned against the otherwise spotless display window, smoke encircling her head like an ironic halo. “Well, I’m not used to being the early one around here” she jested, flicking some ash onto the ground. “Looks like Kakashi has finally rubbed off on you, huh, Rei?”

“We’re not that late” Rei grumbled under her breath, pushing past Sekkachi and into the shop. The blue-haired kunoichi cocked a brow in surprise, eyeing Hana before a sly smile spread across her lips. Pehraps this was going to be more fun than she had expected.

The shop itself was stark white inside and not just because of the dresses. The walls—or what was visible of them—were painted white, the carpet was white, every single piece of furniture was white. Rei felt herself begin to dissociate the moment she stepped into that godawful, colorless hell. And the entire place reeked like roses—nauseatingly so. Rei scanned the room but couldn’t find any logical source for the smell. It had to be a genjutsu—Rose Scented Give Me All Your Money no Jutsu. It seemed fitting enough.

As Hana approached the counter, Rei began to wonder if this was place was even real, if it had ever been touched by the gritty hands of the outside world. She imagined a fullblwoon battle breaking out right in the center of the showroom: a war between two high-strung brides over the same dress. They would claw one another’s eyes out and fling their bodies against the wall like ragdolls. Blood would splatter across the inventory. At least the puffy skirts, wide and pastry-shaped, would help cushion the impact. Probably.

Sekkachi rested a hand on Rei’s shoulder then, snapping her from her existential crisis. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she nodded toward Hana, motioning for them to follow her into the belly of the beast. “I swear to fuck” Sekkachi whispered, half-joking, “I have never felt more butch in my entire life.”

Rei clenched her fist around the hem of her shirt as they approached one of many seating areas in the boutique. Somehow the shop seemed to expand even further back than she could’ve imagined, the room stretching out in front of her with every step forward. Or perhaps in her dissociation, she was only imagining it all. Simply descending down the esophagus of a rather large beast who had no intention of ever spitting her back out. She would be stuck here forever, tangled in the delicate lace and pearly strings of a million and one wedding gowns. Not even hell itself could serve a darker fate.

Their host was a rather angular woman in a black pencil skirt and black blazer. She was exactly what Rei would’ve expected to find in a place like this: polished and professional with an eternally robotic smile. Her name tag read Michiru.

“I’m so delighted that that you decided to help us plan your special day!” she chirped in greeting. Rei choked back the vomit rising in the back of her throat. “So, which one of you is the blushing bride?”

“Here she is!” Hana exclaimed. She paid no mind to her daughter’s resistance, her heels digging into the carpet, as she tugged Rei nearer. “This is my daughter, Rei! She’ll be getting married!”

Sekkachi rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath, “No shit, why else would we be here?” Neither Michiru nor Hana seemed to hear her—or if they did, they did not acknowledge it.

“Wonderful to meet you, Rei” Michiru greeted. Her tone was polite but artificial. It was clear that she was eyeing Rei like a poisonous bug, looking her up and down and scrutinizing her every flaw. The scar across the bridge of Rei’s nose tingled. “So, tell me all about yourself, Rei. Let’s get acquainted!”

“Well, I’m a shinobi” Rei began. “I do a lot of, uh…domestic work. I’ve been at this for about twenty years now, I guess? Or at least if you count the academy, but that—”

“Oh, no, none of that!” Michiru interrupted, scrunching her face up as if someone had just released toxic gas throughout the entire building. She swatted the air with a manicured hand as if to wave off the stench of honesty. “I mean tell me the important things. When is the wedding? Who’s the lucky man? What kind of dress are we looking for? What is our budget?”

“Oh…” Rei murmured. She wasn’t quite sure why she felt so dejected—it made sense that Michiru only be interested in matters pertaining to the wedding. Yet still, that familiar sting returned to the back of her throat. Her mother’s remark bounced around in her head. It was becoming evidently clear to her now that there was a very narrow avenue of her existence that anyone ever seemed to care about. Everything else was just a detour.

Before Rei could formulate an answer, Sekkachi cleared her throat and raised her hand. Michiru slowly turned to her, cocking a brow in curiosity. “Yo, quick question: how do you know it’s a guy?” Sekkachi asked.

Michiru blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You know” Sekkachi replied, making a circular motion with her hand, “how do you know Rei isn’t gay? She could just as well be marrying a chick. You don’t know. Hell, she could be marrying me.”

“Sekkachi, please” Hana whispered, her face turning bright red.

“What?! It’s a valid question!” Sekkachi argued.

Rei sighed and shook her head, recentering Michiru’s attention. “Don’t listen to her, she was dropped on her head as a baby” she excused. Sekkachi gasped in mock shock, restraining laughter. “Alright, so the wedding date is March 14th” Rei finally replied, eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

“Oh, a wedding on White Day!” Michiru swooned. “A classic choice!” The gears in her head were already turning, filtering through their entire stock to mentally dress Rei in the perfect gown. “And what about your, erm…significant other?” she then asked.

“It’s a guy” Rei assured. Her cheeks burned red at the thought of having to describe her fiancé. Her gaze dropped to the ground and she rubbed the back of her neck anxiously. “Well, there’s really not much to tell. He’s a jonin leader so he’s great with kids. We’ve, uh…we’ve known each other practically our entire lives. He’s sweet and talented and—”

“And fucking famous!” Sekkachi interrupted. “You can’t forget that part, Rei.”

“Oh?” Michiru grinned. This was one interjection that she was actually delighted with. “How famous, exactly?”—a sudden gasp— “Might this be a celebrity wedding?”

Rei’s eyes widened as she raised her hands in surrender. “Oh god, no! Absolutely not!” she argued. “No, we’re just two very much normal shinobi looking to plan a very normal wedding.” She shot Sekkachi a fierce glare, as if threatening her to say one more word on the subject. She did not want to make a big deal out of this.

Sekkachi flopped down on the clamshell couch in the center of the room, sprawling her legs out in front of her. “I don’t see what the big deal is” she countered. “I mean, if I was marrying Kakashi Hatake—”

“Kakashi Hatake?!” Michiru exclaimed, her voice rising an octave. She quickly took Rei by the shoulders, narrowed her eyes in suspicious desperation. “Do you mean to tell me that your are marrying the infamous Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake of the Sharingan?”

“Y-Yeah…why?” Rei asked, taken aback.

Michiru squealed and clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect!” she exclaimed. “I had heard rumors that Kakashi was engaged but I didn’t really think they were true. After all, up until a few months ago, it felt like no one even really knew he was taken but now! Now I have the honor of outfitting the bride in the wedding of the century! This will do wonders for our reputation.”

Rei rubbed her forearms awkwardly and averted her gaze. “I mean, really, it’s not that big of a deal. We—”

“No, no, I won’t hear another word of it!” Michiru interrupted. She grabbed Rei’s arms then and spread them out so as to stick her in a T-pose. “We need to get to work right away! What kind of dress are we looking for?”

“I-I don’t know” Rei admitted. “I never really thought about it.”

“Well, there are plenty of options to choose from!” Michiru grinned, motioning to their inventory with a flourish. And truly, every wall was packed with weding dresses—so much so that the wall itself was barely visible.

Rei chewed her lower lip, surveying the sea of white. “Yeah, maybe too many options” she muttered.

“Well let’s start with the basics” Michiru began. “Do you want something traditional or more modern? What kind of silhouette do you want? Do you like lace or crystals? Pearls would match that engagement ring perfectly! How much cleavage do you want to show? You know, you have great breasts—you should really bank on that!”

Hana cleared her throat, cocking a brow in scrutiny. “Now, now, let’s not get too hasty” she said, stepping between Michiru and her daughter. “As a bride, she ought to look respectable.”

“Eh, I’m gonna side with Cheery McSmilepants over here” Sekkachi countered. “I think Rei ought to flaunt what she’s got. After all, it’s not like anyone other than Kakashi is getting ahold of her. He might as well have something to excite him on the big day.”

“Fucking hell, Sekkachi” Rei muttered under her breath.

Sekkachi merely shrugged and reclined on the couch, propping her feet up on the clean glass coffee table before her. Hana whipped around and frowned, swatting Sekkachi’s forearm in a silent command for her to put her feet down, this was a nice establishment. Sekkachi grumbled but did as she was told.

Furrowing her brows, Rei replied to Michiru, “I mean, I don’t want to look slutty but I am not about to wear something puritanical.”

“Oh, yes, of course not!” Michiru nodded emphatically. Finally she felt as if she was slowly beginning to gain an understanding of what Rei had in mind, even if the vision wasn’t actually very clear in Rei’s head. “I think I know just the thing” Michiru continued, nodding as she raised an index finger in the air. “Something lavish, of course. And on trend! We can’t have Kakashi’s wife walking down the aisle in last year’s fashion.” She made a stinkface here as if the very idea made her sick to her stomach.

“What does that matter?” Sekkachi asked. “It’s not like anyone is going to know the difference.”

“I will know the difference” Michiru replied sharply. Without another word, she turned and began flitting around the shop like an anxious hummingbird, filing through the racks and gathering a handful of dresses into her arms. By the time she was finished, she returned with a stack thick enough to nearly cover her face.

“How much time do you think we have?” Sekkachi jested, leaning forward to poke at the chiffon. “How many dresses did you even grab? Fifty?”

Michiru shook her head. “Only three!” she replied. Without a single moment of hesitation, she grabbed Rei’s arm and drew her back into the dressing room. Rei glanced back at her mother and best friend over her shoulder as they went, and the look on her face was like that of a pig dragged to the slaughter: terrified and desperate.

The thing that Rei was not prepared for when it came to wedding dresses was just how difficult they would be to get into. Michiru commandeered the entire process, reducing Rei to nothing more than a living dress-up doll. She hated the way her body was exposed like this, the way her privacy felt violated, and how she knew Michiru would note every scar and scrape and stretch mark. As Michiru tugged Rei’s shirt up over her head, however, something far more pressing entered Rei’s mind. With a gasp, she immediately clapped her hand over her right shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Michiru asked, unamused. She craned her neck to try and get a better view of Rei’s blushed, anxious face.

“Uh…can I ask you one thing?” Rei chuckled nervously. Michiru urged her to continue. Her impatience was almost tangible. Grinning sheepishly, Rei asked, “Do any of these dresses, by chance, have sleeves?”

The longer Rei took in the dressing room, the more anxious Hana became. It was no secret that her daughter was not one for shopping sprees. She envisioned Rei giving Michiru a hard time, complaiing about every fluffy dress offered, perhaps even attempting to claw her way out of a window and escape. She glanced to Sekkachi, hoping that perhaps she felt the same, but instead she appeared completely unphased. Bored and unphased.

Hana was familiar enough with Sekkachi, of course, but to say that they were experienced with spending time alone together was vastly inaccurate. Hana only knew Sekkachi in the context of Rei and nothing more. Side by side unsupervised like this was new and unnerving. Twiddling her thumbs awkwardly, Hana finally asked, “So, do you intend to find a bridesmaid dress while you’re here?”

Sekkachi nearly choked on her own spit with laughter. “Oh god, no!” she exclaimed. “If I’m lucky, Rei will let me get by without having to wear a dress at all.” She was certain that Rei knew better than to force her into being traditional. Of all the things Sekkachi was willing to do for Rei, that was not one of them.

Before Hana had a chance to protest, Michiru came bounding out of the dressing room with a satisfied grin upon her face. Hana straightened her back, eyes wide in expectation. And then out came Rei, head drooped and hands clasped demurely. Hana gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Rei, sweetheart!”

The first dress was, for lack of a better term, a marshmallow. The bodice was heavily bedazzled with blinding rhinestones, the neckline accentuating her breasts perhaps a little too much, and the chiffon skirt was so wide that Rei could barely fit through the doorway. Sekkachi’s face lit up at the ridiculousness of it all.

“So, what do we think?” Michiru asked. It was clear that she was already full to bursting with pride.

“You look so beautiful!” Hana enthused, restraining tears. “Just like a princess.” If she had to envision what her daughter should look like as a bride, this was pretty damn near close to it. Shimmering and shiny and ethereal.

Michiru glanced to Sekkachi, encouraging her to express her own opinion on the gown. “I mean…” Sekkachi started. She tried her hardest not to cringe. She failed. “It’s pretty obvious Rei is uncomfortable as fuck” she admitted. Hana’s eyes widened both at the insult and the blunt delivery. “And really, this thing looks nothing like Rei. Nothing about her says ‘sparkly marshmallow.’ I give it two thumbs down.” Here, she emphasized with the appropriate hand gesture and an accompanying raspberry.

Displeased, Michiru turned to Rei. “Well, you’re the bride. What do you think?”

Rei paused for a moment, surveying her reflection in the mirror. “Do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to lie…?” she asked slowly. Michiru’s face fell. She pointed to the dressing room and Rei immediately gathered her skirts and wobbled back to try on the next dress.

After four more failed attempts, the whole group was beginning to lose faith. Michiru was clearly off the mark in her understanding of Rei’s tastes, and Hana and Sekkachi’s opinions could not be further from one another.

“My god…” Rei muttered under her breath, staring now at herself in the most ridiculous, avant-garde thing she had ever seen. She was trying so hard to find reasons to love it. She kept coming up empty. “This is going to take forever, isn’t it?” she groaned.

Michiru pursed her lips. “Well, so far we’ve tried something flashy, we’ve tried something artistic, we’ve tried the classic and the modern, and none of them have been right” she recounted.

“They just don’t feel like…me” Rei replied. And after all, shouldn’t a wedding gown befit the bride herself? She didn’t want to just get married in anything. It needed to feel right.

“Well, what does feel like you?” Michiru asked.

Rei poked at the short hem of her balloon dress, tugged at the ribbons dangling from the corset front. “I don’t know” she admitted, defeatedly so. “I know what doesn’t feel right, but I can’t put my finger on what does.”

“Well, I think you ought to wear something sweet, like a princess” Hana interjected. “That’s what feels right to me.”

“Oh, give me a break!” Sekkachi groaned. “No, Rei needs something edgy, you know? She’s a modern day woman. She’s a fucking badass. She needs a dress that she can kick a man’s ass in.”

Rei tossed her head back and dug the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. If anything, her mother and Sekkachi’s commentary throughout all of this was just making things ten times worse. She was steadily reaching the end of her rope. Whipping around, she glared at them and then shouted, “Alright, then, if you think you both know me so well then why don’t you guys go pick something?!”

Hana and Sekkachi froze, glanced to one another, turned the thought over in their heads. Before they could say anything on the matter, Michiru stepped forward with a single clap. “Well, I think that’s a stupendous idea!” she exclaimed. She rushed over to the couch, urged Hana and Sekkachi to rise to their feet. “Why don’t you all go and survey the racks and come back with three dresses each for our bride. We’ll wait here until you’re done!”

“Oh, no you don’t” Rei then said, glaring at Michiru. “I’m joining them.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Michiru argued, her voice unsteady with anxiety. There was a certain fury in Rei’s eyes now that she had never seen before, not even in the most vile of bridezillas. It was a fury far removed from the world of civilians. A shinobi’s fury.

“I’m not going to sit around and let them do all the work for me” Rei insisted. She carefully stepped down from her pedestal and began toddling toward the wall of dresses, her own a little too tight for her to walk properly. “If they get to have a hand in my fate, then I want a say, too. After all, it’s my fucking wedding day and I’m the bride.”

Michiru watched in paralyzed fear as Rei ripped through the racks, eyes hard and focused. She didn’t even know what she was looking for but she didn’t care. She’d find something. And if all else failed, she would be more than happy to just get married naked. She didn’t care. It was no longer worth the trouble.

Sekkachi admittedly found Rei’s frustration amusing, to say the least. It was the exact brand of chaos she needed to make this hellscape a little more tolerable. As they met in the middle of one of the racks, Sekkachi tugged one of the dresses out and grinned maniacally. “Well, doesn’t this look familiar!” she exclaimed, holding it up. The mere sight of it gave Rei post-traumatic stress. The collar was stiff and white and shaped like the plastic cones they put on dogs at the vet’s office. The sleeves were the size of blimps. Lace and tacky fake pearls covered the entire corset and hem. The same exact dress from the antiques shop.

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little” Rei croaked, shoving it out of the way and suppressing laughter.

“It’s following you, Rei!” Sekkachi laughed. “It’s trying to tell you that this is the dress. It’s fate!”

“That’s not fate, I’m being fucking haunted is what it is” Rei replied, shaking her head. She turned back to the other dresses, trying to refocus.

Sekkachi rolled her eyes and tossed the abysmal gown to the wayside. “At least that dress has some creativity” she mused.

“And this one doesn’t?” Rei asked, motioning to whatever she was currently wearing.

“Hey, poodles and clowns deserve to live happily ever after, too!” Sekkachi jested. “Besides, at least it’s something. I mean, look at this shit.” Here, she pulled two dresses side by side off the racks. Both of them touted a sweetheart neckline, no straps or sleeves, and a fitted body down to a flared hem with iridescent pearl accents. “It’s like they’re not even fucking trying.”

Rei shrugged. “I guess it’s just a popular design?”

Sekkachi poked at the tags in the back, both of which crediting different designs. She shook her head in disdain. “I don’t get what the big deal is: they’re all the same fucking dress.”

“That’s not entirely true!” Michiru interrupted with a restrained, closed-mouth chuckle. God, Rei was really beginning to hate this woman. She stalked nearer, lightly shoving Sekkachi out of the way as she held up both of the dresses herself. “You see, this one is glacier white with akoya pearls, while this one snow white with freshwater pearls. They couldn’t be any more different!”

“Okay” Sekkachi scoffed, bugging her eyes out and pursing her lips incredulously. She fed Rei a look of amused insanity as she skirted around the woman to approach one of the other racks.

By the time they were finished, Rei had a total of 12 more very different dresses to assess. Michiru insisted that Rei try on her own picks first—the styles of which were inconsistent at best and troubling at worst. The bridal consultant had hoped, at least, that this would give her a better sense of which direction she hoped to go toward.

While each dress was beautiful in it’s own right, neither of them felt like Rei. She stared at her reflection with a look of disgust and disappointment at the third one, especially. “I really hoped that maybe this one would be it” she complained.

“Well, what do you like about it?” Michiru asked.

Rei shook her head. “I don’t know” she replied. “I thought maybe it would be a good fit for my body or something, but…I’m just uncomfortable.”

Sekkachi groaned and sprawled out on the couch, shaking her head. “And here I was hoping that this would be quick and easy” she complained. Pursing her lips, she then shifted on the couch to dig around in her back pouch, producing a tiny metal flask. “Guess I’m gonna need this after all” she said, popping off the cap and taking a long swig.

Rei whipped around, narrowing her eyes. “Hey, where the fuck did you get that from?!” she asked.

Sekkachi wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and replied coolly, “I figured if this was going to be as torturous as I expected, I’d need a little pick-me-up.”

Rolling her eyes, Rei turned back around, afforded one more look to the dress, then shook her head and waddled back to the dressing room.

At least all of Hana’s dresses exhibited some sense of consistency, but their lack of variation was perhaps taken too far. Each dress was far too simple with basic ballgown silhouettes and square necklines and capped sleeves. There were no adornments or bedazzling whatsoever—only a modest hint of lace here and there.

“What do we think?” Michiru asked, glancing to Hana. Rei’s mother sat with bated breath, her hands clasped in front of her. She was clearly pleased with her own choices.

“I think she looks beautiful!” Hana exclaimed. “Just how I’d imagine her on her wedding day.”

“I-I don’t know…” Rei murmured. She turned this way and that, studying the drape of the fabric and the texture of the silk. “I mean, they’re pretty but I just…I don’t know, I feel kind of…uninspired.”

Sekkachi nodded. “I think I’m gonna have to side with Rei on this” she mentioned. “They’re just too plain.”

“So we’re thinking something a little more creative then?” Michiru asked.

Sekkachi and Rei nodded in unison. “You know” the blue-haired kunoichi then said, “Whoever said Rei had to wear a white wedding dress, anyway? Maybe that’s the big issue here.”

“Why wouldn’t she wear white?” Hana countered. “She’s getting married, not going to a cocktail party. All brides wear white.”

“I mean, for what it’s worth” Sekkachi chuckled, “Do you really think she can even get away with wearing white on her wedding day? We all know her and Kakashi have fucked.”

Hana’s face immediately went pale at the prospect. She had never considered her daughter a sexual being up until now, regardless of her enthusiasm for grandchildren. Frankly, it was something she never wanted to consider. The thought of Kakashi’s hands on her daughter’s body, naked and sweaty and writhing together…it was just too much. In one fluid motion, Hana reached across the couch and stole the flask from Sekkachi’s hands to take a long, desperate swig herself. Rei’s eyes widened in shock. She had never seen her mother drink alcohol so enthusiastically before.

Sighing, Michiru straightened her blazer. “Well, then! If it’s creativity we want, I think I have just the thing.” She motioned for Rei to follow her and together they departed for the dressing room yet again.

It only took one of Michiru’s options to convince Rei that this woman was completely unqualified to dress her. This one was more garish than the last with indescribable pompoms and a short, poofy skirt that, yet again, resembled a marshmallow. Ribbons hung down sloppily from the bodice and skirt’s hem like some sort of warped, second-grade school project jellyfish. It also, unfortunately, came with a terrible wide-brimmed hat lined with the same puffy pompoms and draped with poorly-cut tulle.

‘Now, this dress is a couture design straight from Yumegakure” Michiru explained, motioning to Rei with an expert flourish. “It might be a little out of your price range, but I’d say it’s worth it for such a high-end brand!”

Sekkachi nearly gagged at the sight of it, restraining ridiculous laughter. “Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have started drinking after all” she choked out. She fished around in her back pouch for her medication, the bottle reading in large bold letters do not take with alcohol. “Just the sight of that thing I giving me indigestion” she muttered. She would just have to brave the overwhelming disgust.

Frowning, Rei tore the hat off her head and tossed it across the room. It landed squarely atop one of the many nondescript mannequins, spinning around the head before settling crooked. “Alright, that’s it!” she shouted. She threw her hands up in surrender and grabbed Michiru’s clipboard. “I will try on one more dress, and only one more dress, and if that one doesn’t spark anything then fuck it, I’m getting married naked.” With a firm grip still on the clipboard, she dragged Michiru back to the dressing room with furious purpose. The woman chuckled at Hana and Sekkachi over her shoulder, silently certain she was about to meet her end.

All of Sekkachi’s choices were far edgier and less traditional—a jumpsuit with a chiffon train, a form-fitting dress with a cowl-neck and thigh-high slit. The one that Rei picked out of all of them, however, was perhaps the most promising option of them all.

After fifteen agonizing minutes, Michiru trudged out of the dressing room frazzled and fatigued and collapsed onto the couch beside Hana. “I think we’ve finally done it” she sighed. “I don’t know how, but we have.” With a lazy flourish of her hand, she signaled for Rei to step out into the light.

The dress she wore now was simple but not plain, sexy but not slutty. It hugged Rei’s curves in all the right places and the deep sweetheart neckline accentuated her assets. It even had simple, long sleeves to perfectly mask her tattoo. Pearls dripped subtly down the bodice, flaring out into a loose, high-low skirt that was feminine but not unmanageable. For all intents and purposes, it was perfect.

“Well?” Michiru asked anxiously. “How do you feel? Is it the one?”

“It’s beautiful” Rei said, studying her figure in the mirror, “but…I don’t know.”

“I think you look stunning” Hana cooed, an affectionate expression painting her face. It was not what she had dreamed of for her little girl, but she could tell that Rei wore this one well.

Sekkachi smirked and whistled, adding, “I bet it’ll take all of Kakashi’s strength not to rip that right off of you.” Hana tried to ignore the snidely sexual remark, regardless of how uncomfortable it left her. Beaming with satisfaction, Sekkachi nudged Hana on the arm and jested, “See? I told you I knew her sense of style better than anyone else.” Hana pursed her lips and nodded slowly. If anything, perhaps this just proved how little she really did know about her daughter’s tastes. Or rather, about her daughter in general.

Michiru seemed pleased with the positive feedback, as if she took all the credit for finding the perfect dress. “So?” she asked, turning to Rei. “Have we been successful here today? Are you saying yes to this dress?”

Rei lingered on her reflection for a moment longer. It truly was a beautiful dress but…

“I just…don’t feel that magic” Rei confessed slowly, sadly. Her shoulders drooped in defeat. “It’s a beautiful dress, and I love it, but…I don’t know, I just don’t have that feeling in the pit of my chest. I don’t feel like I’m going to cry. I don’t feel that magic.”

Sekkachi cocked a brow, leaning forward. “Are you supposed to?” she asked. “Like, is that one of the requirements for this? I didn’t there was any big emotional investment involved here, just find the dress you like best and be done with it. Right?”

“I don’t know” Rei sighed in defeat. “I always hear people talk about how they just, like, break down in tears when they find ‘the one’, you know? I thought it was supposed to be this amazing, magical moment where everything suddenly feels just right. I don’t know, maybe I’m just romanticizing everything or something, I just—”

“No, no, you’re not romanticizing anything” Michiru interrupted. “I have outfitted thousands of brides in my career and they always find the perfect dress. Maybe you just need to try it with a veil? I’ll go get one and we’ll see what you think then!” Before Rei could protest, Michiru had ducked around a corner to ruffle through their stock of accessories. When she returned, she fixed a simple veil right at the base of Rei’s ponytail. The chiffon laid awkwardly over the fluff of her hair, trailing down the small of her back. “How about now? Do you feel anything?” Michiru asked, recoiling and motioning for Rei to view her reflection.

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes at the sight of herself, but not out of understanding or acceptance. She still didn’t feel anything. By now, she must have exhausted the entire boutique’s stock. A sinking feeling lodged itself in the pit of her chest—this was all for nothing. Her dress, the dress she was destined for, was not here. It couldn’t be. But Rei could sense the disappointment in the air. It hung heavy, almost palpable, and a wave of guilt washed over her. She turned this way and that, shifting in the dress—which was far too tight around the waist, anyway, but she didn’t dare mention this. She was running out of options. She could settle. She could learn to love it. She could learn to fall in love with it.

Shaking her head, Rei turned back around to her entourage and whispered, “I think I can see myself getting married in this. I think this would work just fine.” She forced a smile, smoothing the dress out over her stomach and toying with the featured pearls.

Michiru beamed, clapping her hands together in delight. “I knew the veil would fix things! It always does!” she exclaimed, glancing to Hana and Sekkachi over her shoulder. Turning back to Rei, then, she asked with glorious purpose, “So, Rei, have you made your final decision? Are you finally saying yes to this dress?”

Chewing her lower lip, Rei nodded slowly. “I think I am.” Her audience collectively sighed in relief, cheering at having finally found the dress. And really, if nothing else, it felt good to have finally made a decision. This was one last thing for her to worry about. The dress, a true icon of any wedding, had finally been chosen.

Hana rose to her feet, extending her arms out for a hug from her daughter. Smiling, Rei carefully stepped down off the pedestal but as she bent down to gather her skirts, she was paralyzed. A sudden tearing sound echoed through the room. Hana’s face fell. Michiru paled. Sekkachi suppressed hysterical laughter.

“Oh, god…” Rei whispered in horror. Her hand slowly shifted to her back, feeling for the rip in the fabric. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe it was only a little tear. Maybe it was easily fixable. Certainly this wasn’t the first time this had happened to a bride, nor would it be the last. As her fingers traced the back of her dress, however, it became all too clear that this was not fine. The dress had practically ripped apart all the way from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. Rei’s face turned beet red. Smiling sheepishly, she turnd to Michiru and croaked out, “How much did this one cost again…?”

Michiru blinked, replying with a weak, “Seven thousand dollars.” In that exact moment, Rei immediately felt like she was going to be sick. Without a moment of hesitation, she surged forward and stole the flask from Sekkachi’s hand, knocking back the rest of her booze.

By the time they left, the shop was already preparing to close for the day. The setting sun painted the sky in rich red and orange and pink. Mothers called their children, sweaty and red-faced, inside after a long day of play. What began as a mere two-hour appointment transformed into a five-hour catastrophe. Rei, Hana, and Sekkachi were tired and hungry and defeated. And more importantly, they did not leave with a wedding dress.

“That’s it!”Rei exclaimed as they slipped back into Kaminoki. Yuzu had since gone home. Standing behind the register instead was none other than Grandma Teiko. The old woman arched a brow curiously as Rei fell back against one of the bookshelves and lamented, “I’m officially getting married ass naked!”

“Rough day?” Teiko chuckled.

Sekkachi trudged past her and made a beeline straight for the shop’s bathroom, muttering as she went, “You have no fucking clue.”

Hana sighed and shook her head, rubbing her temples as she approached the counter. “We must have tried on every dress in Konoha and still, none of them were right” she complained. Rei had to admit her overexaggeration was not appreciated.

“Oh?” Teiko asked. “Is that so?”

“You know, I blame modern wedding traditions” Rei replied, a sour expression on her face. “Everyone these days either wants to look like a big, fat pastry or like a slinky lounge singer. It’s like every ounce of class has just gone right out the fucking window!”

Sekkachi propped the bathroom door open for only a moment to shout back, “As if you know anything about class!”

Frustrated, Rei yelled in response, “As if you do!”

“Girls, please try to calm down” Hana begged. All of this was giving her a migraine. That sip of alcohol from earlier was not helping her case. For a moment, she even regretted ever doing this but then felt immensely guilty at the thought. She had only wanted to do something nice for her daughter. To create a bonding experience. Instead, all she received was an absolute disaster.

Teiko hummed softly as she hobbled around the counter, reaching for Rei’s hand. Despite her confusion, Rei did not protest. “Come on, I think I have an idea” Teiko murmured. A sly smile touched her lips, a knowing twinkle glinting in her eye, as she guided Rei upstairs.

Rei followed Teiko into her bedroom, struck by an immediate sense of nostalgia. The faint scent of lavender, the floral duvet, the various perfume bottles on the antique dresser; they all warped Rei straight back to childhood days curling up in her grandmother’s lap as she read her bedtime stories and quelled anxiety and depression alike. She watched as Teiko struggled to pull a large trunk out from under her bed. Rei knew better than to interfere and try to help. Before she unlocked it, however, Teiko glared up at Rei and commanded, “Cover your eyes, girl.” Rei hesitated for only a moment and then did as she was told.

“Grandma, what is all of this about?” she asked. She listened close to the snap of the lock, the swish of fabrics and knock of knick-knacks as the old woman rustled around inside the case.

Teiko pursed her lips as she worked dutifully. “Do you remember when you were a little girl, and you went to Konoha Matsuri with Kakashi?” she asked. Rei furrowed her brows as the memories came to her in hazy splotches. She was only three years old, but she remembered the colorful lights and the boom of fireworks in her chest. She remembered the little dog figurine that Kakashi had won her and the way she kept dropping her gyoza on the ground. Kakashi went back to order more dumplings for her each time, ultimately resorting to feeding her himself in an effort to prevent even more disaster. He sacrificed so that she would not miss out on her favorite food, even at the expense of his own growing cold. And then Rei remembered the dress.

That afternoon, after lamenting that she had nothing to wear, Rei was presented with a lavish kimono, an heirloom, straight from Grandma Teiko’s trunk. The ornate fabric was sleek and soft, the colors vibrant and cool. Nostalgia aside, Teiko did not hesitate to resize the dress to perfectly fit Rei’s tiny toddler body.

A sudden fear washed over Rei as she suddenly understood the situation at hand. “Grandma, wait, no—” she protested, nearly peeking through her fingers. Grandma Teiko caught her in an instant, slapping her forearm with her cane.

“Not yet, girl” she snapped. “You’ll open your eyes when I tell you to.” Rei muttered a soft, despondent sorry as she tried to maintain composure. She couldn’t possibly imagine the specifics but mch like the way a rain cloud rolls across the sky, she could feel something large and unbearable growing ever nearer. Something she knew she would not be able to accept.

And then Grandma Teiko was finished. Rei heard her slide the curtains back, saw the array of fresh light from behind her eyelids. The tapping of the old woman’s cane echoed as she stepped nearer. Grandma Teiko wrapped her shaky, wrinkled old hands around Rei’s wrists then and gently moved her hands away from her face. “Now you can open your eyes” she said.

Rei blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the light, before comprehending what lay before her. Srpawled across the bed was a stunning white kimono, sleek and satin. Beautiful pink camellias, dainty baby’s breath, and delicate cherry blossoms danced across the fabric. It was not nearly as ornate as what the noble clans wore but what it lacked in extravagance, it made up for in both grace and sentimentality.

“This was the kimono that I got married in so many years ago” Teiko explained. Rei gently caressed the fabric, gentle and tender as if she was afraid it might crumble beneath her touch. Teiko paused for only a moment to watch, her heart swelling. And then, smiling softly, she said, “I want you to try it on.”

Rei’s head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. She searched her grandmother’s face for even the slightest hint of disingenuity, that this was all just some sick joke. When she found none, she glanced back to the kimono and shook her head. “Grandma, I can’t. That’s just…I can’t do that” she protested. She couldn’t quite understand why, but the prospect terrified her.

Grandma Teiko, however, would not hear a word of it. “Of course you can, girl” she countered. Before Rei could say anything more, the old woman began helping her get changed. She gently tugged Rei’s shirt over her head, smoothing it out across the bed beside the kimono. She encouraged Rei to remove her pants, and she did so slowly, methodically. Procrastinating.

Exposed before the old woman, Rei felt much like she had earlier in the dressing room with Michiru. But Teiko was not a stranger. She knew Rei deeply, knew of her scars and her struggles alike. Within that knowing came a very different sense of fear. Her stomach growled softly. Teiko arched a brow but said nothing of it. Rei wrapped her arms around her waist, attempted to shrink herself. She refused to look at herself in the mirror. The thick, anxious air weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Grandma Teiko seemed completely unphased by all of this. She simply moved Rei’s arms out of the way here and there, as if yet again Rei was nothing more than a dress-up doll. In a way, the entire act felt almost nostalgic. She thought of when Rei was a child, too young to dress herself, and Teiko would take up the responsibility. Rei always knew exactly what she wanted to wear, or rather what she was comfortable wearing. When Hana suggested a dress, Rei chose pants and an old t-shirt. Something she could move in, something unisex and uninhibiting. Funny how even back then, Teiko saw so much of herself reflected in Rei. And that could not have been truer now.

Time crept by slowly as Hana waited in the shop below. She needed answers. She needed to know what was going on, and that Rei had not spiralled even further into her own insanity. The toilet flushed and Sekkachi trudged out of the bathroom, face dewy with sweat. She froze when she noticed Hana, eyes manic and desperate. “What…? What is it?” Sekkachi asked.

Hana merely wrung her hands together, glanced this way and that, and then grabbed Sekkachi’s hands and pulled her upstairs with her. Sekkachi grumbled under her breath, muttering something about how she hadn’t even washed her hands yet.

Unsure and anxious, Hana crept steadily up the stairs to peer into the old woman’s room. It was then that Sekkachi understood the true weight of the situation. She followed suit and then they saw it: Rei.

She stood there in the center of the room, hands clasped in front of her and head downcast. The evening sunlight poured through the windows and bathed her in an ethereal glow. Rei bit the inside of her cheek as she slowly turned to the doorway, lifted her gaze, and asked, “Well? What do you think?”

Hana immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. Of all the dresses her daughter had tried on thus far, this was in an entire league of it’s own. If her ideal vision of her daughter as a bride was hazy before, seeing her now had clarified that image tenfold. “You look beautiful” Hana choked, trying to restrain herself. “Like a true bride.”

Even Sekkachi could hardly wipe the smile off her face. “Now that looks fitting for Kakashi’s wife.”

“You really think so?” Rei asked, tucking her long bangs back behind her ear. She glanced to Grandma Teiko for reassurance.

The old woman gave a single nod before motioning to the full-length mirror on the other wall. “See for yourself” she said.

As Rei turned to view her reflection, her breath hitched in her throat. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, muttering a muffled, “Oh my god…” Her eyes grew glossy and an incredulous little laugh bubbled up from deep within her chest. For the longest time, Rei had never considered herself bridal material. She yearned to be a wife, yes, but when she tried to envision her wedding day, when she tried to imagine herself walking down the aisle, she couldn’t see it. She couldn’t picture herself amid the flowers and lace, embodying such a traditional role. It didn’t feel fitting. She had consequently assumed that perhaps she was never really meant to be someone’s wife at all. That she had just romanticized the idea, envisioned someone else’s path rather than her own. The distance between her and Kakashi over the years only further cemented this idea in her head.

And yet now here she was. Now her and Kakashi were in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, he yearned for her to become his wife. Looking at herself now, she finally saw everything slowly come together. She could see herself walking down that aisle, taking Kakashi’s hand in hers, and vowing to love one another until the end of their days. Without a doubt, this was the dress.

Yuruganai huffed and adjusted his glasses on his face as he stepped out of his office for the first time all afternoon. The sight of Hana and Sekkachi idling in the doorway only further irked him. The hallway was far too narrow for people to loiter like this. Frustrated, he stalked forward and asked, “What’s going on here?”

Hana simply looked back at him over her shoulder, a soft smile on her teary face. She could not restrain herself any longer. She took her husband’s hand in hers and, confused as he was, pulled him nearer. “We’ve found the dress” she croaked.

Yuruganai arched a brow, leaning into the room to look for himself. The moment he saw his daughter, it all became clear to him. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape. Rei was like he had never seen her before. He was, undeniably, speechless. Teiko grinned back at him knowingly as she caught his eyes welling up, but the fear of being known was far too much for him to handle. He quickly wiped his eyes and shook away the emotion. “Well, a hand-me-down dress is going to save me lots of money on this wedding, anyway” he muttered before turning and retreating back to his office. He slammed the door rather loudly and Hana could tell that deep down, he was losing it. Perhaps he had a heart, after all.

Teiko hobbled up behind her granddaughter and placed her hands firmly on her shoulders. “If you like it so much, Rei, then it’s yours” she smiled.

“Oh god, Grandma, b-but I can’t!” Rei protested, turning to face the old woman. Marrying in her old wedding dress just didn’t feel right, like she was stealing a part of Teiko’s past. She could never live with the hole it would leave in her history.

Teiko swatted at the air and made a sour face. “Nonsense, girl!” she countered. “Do I look like I have any use for it now?” She motioned to her body, old and hunched and fat, then patted Rei on the shoulder. “You wear it better than I ever could, anyway.”

Rei afforded her reflection one last glance, smoothing the dress out over her stomach and adjusting the sleeves. Another sob caught in her throat as the reality of the situation truly settled in. A tender smile touched her lips as se reached back to take Grandma Teiko’s hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. This was it. The first day of the rest of her life was rapidly approaching. She was getting married, and she was going to be Kakashi Hatake’s wife. A soft smile touched her lips as she whispered softly, “Thank you, Grandma. For everything.”

#rei natsuki #kakashi hatake #kakashi x oc #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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kuriquinn · 8 years ago

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Underneath the Underneath [1/?]

Summary: As observant as he is, it take Kakashi years before he realises he's in an actual, adult relationship.

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be forced to juggle geese until you drop dead should you be found plagiarizing.

Warning: Spoilers for pretty much everything up to Chapter 699.

Canon-Compliance: As close to canon as fanfiction can possibly be. With a few personal additions :P Takes place during Part I, Part II and the Blank Period.

Fanon-Compliance: Takes place several years before An Inch of Gold and Unplanned.

AN: OC alert! There is an OC in this story! Ohmygosh! Okay, so I have had a lot of interest in my OC, Manako, over the past little while, and I got a few requests here, on AO3 and on tumblr to start showing her relationship with Kakashi a little more. I had been meaning to wait until once I finished with all my SasuSaku headcanon stuff, but then I thought, why not write it now? Kakashi and Manako's relationship happens entirely off-screen so as not to interfere or impose on the canon, so I can write a few pieces every now and then for those of you who are curious. I hope you enjoy!

Author’s Note2: In case anyone was not aware of this (and I’ve mentioned it several times), Kakashi and Manako are about 9-10 years apart in age. They meet several years before the Naruto series begins and slowly build a friendship. Despite the fact that this is a universe with different age appropriate behaviours and expectations than our own (for crying out loud, they have twelve year old kids fight to the death and massacre their families), and that for the vast majority of human history age differences and relationships at younger ages have always exists, with or without consent, I have gone out of my way to ensure that nothing physical or intimate happens between the two until Manako is 18 years old (legal voting age in Japan, in many place in Japan, legal age of consent as per Tokyo’s Youth Protection Law). There has been an ongoing trend across many fandoms lately to demonize any relationship with a large age-gap or where one partner is a teenager on the cusp of being legal. Interestingly enough, these same people have no problem with a 17-year-old girl being stalked by a 100-year-old vampire just because he looks like a 17-year-old boy. Go figure.

In laymen’s terms, if you’re one of those holier-than-thou, morality-police, purity-wank douchenozzles that think authors should censor their work to protect your delicate sensibilities from being exposed to stuff that happens in real life…kindly step out of my section of the sandbox and go play elsewhere.

This is the politest I get about it.

“Ah! Kakashi, my venerable rival!” Maito Gai declares with his usual pomp, pointing one finger straight in front of him, while his other hand remains hidden behind his back. “Today is the day when we settle our longstanding, noble contest!”

Kakashi raises his single visible eyebrow at the digit two inches from his nose. “Is that so?”

“Yes! You see, as I was enjoying my balanced and revitalising morning repast, I heard a foreigner mention a competition from their land! The honourable and youthful pursuit of juggling geese!”

From behind his back, Gai produces a tiny gosling that blinks up at Kakashi and honks in puzzlement.

Kakashi returns that blink. Behind him, he hears Kurenai and Asuma stifle chuckles.

“That’s a goose,” he says eventually.

“Well-spotted, you keen-eyed animal, you!”

Kakashi counts to three in his head, and then points out in as reasonable a voice as he can manage, “Isn’t juggling geese a little cruel?”

“Nonsense! Our Konoha poultry is the hardiest of the land!”

That’s not what I…what even…?

There are so many logical, well-thought out arguments against this, and yet Kakashi knows from experience none of them will suffice. And so, he pounces on Gai’s ridiculousness in the hopes he can dissuade him for once.

“If the purpose is to juggle geese, shouldn’t there be more than one?”

Gai’s elated expressions holds for several seconds longer, and then his shoulders slump and he glares into the distance.

“Damn you, Kakashi, with your cool logic!”

Well, that was a narrowly avoided spot of—

“Fear not! I will return with a gaggle of goslings for us to test our juggling acumen!”

And he speeds off, leaving Kakashi holding the goose.

“Well…” Asuma begins.

“That’s certainly an interesting way to begin the morning,” Kurenai adds.

Gai hurries back, snatches the confused bird, and disappears again. Kurenai shakes her head. “Is it just me or does he get more high-spirited every day?”

“It’s not just you,” Asuma assures her. “The man could tire out the gods…”

Kakashi sighs and glances at the sky; the sun isn’t even at its zenith yet.

This is not how his routine is supposed to go.

Not that he ever consciously planned to have something as mundane as a routine. As a general rule, shinobi avoid having those, being that they are trained to expect the unexpected. However, over the years since he moved up the ranks in Konoha, a certain procedure has emerged nonetheless.

Every morning he rises before dawn and visits the cemetery, standing before the Memorial Stone to pay respect to his fallen comrades. Depending on his mood he may simply spare them a few words, or perhaps he’ll spend an hour or two in silent remembrance of Obito, Rin and Minato-sensei. Afterward, he heads to Hokage Tower to see if there’s anything Lord Third intends him to do.

It’s been almost a year since the Hokage removed him from active duty with ANBU, as well as mandatory therapy and instruction to readapt his teaching methods for genin. Eventually he will be assigned his first genin squad, but for now he’s simply on the village duty roster. Still, the missions Lord Third assigns him are always for the best of the village.

In any case, he has a lot more recreational time than he ever did before. Privately he thinks the old man is hoping he’ll use these newfound free periods to socialise more, but at this point in his life, Kakashi isn’t keen on seeking out friendship. As a child he didn’t like the idea of mingling with other people, and as an adult he is even more socially hesitant.

It’s not exactly easy to make friends when every person you’ve ever cared about died and everyone else holds you responsible for it.

Still, in spite of his reluctance, he has forged some connections within the village.

First and foremost, there’s Gai, whose presence in his life was insisted upon by their respective fathers. By now, the taijutsu master is so much of a habit for Kakashi that he’s not quite sure what he’d do without him. No day is complete without one of Gai’s ridiculous competitions, though Kakashi tries to avoid them until the evening for simple conservation of energy.

In the past few years, he’s also found himself in the company of Asuma more and more often. Kakashi is pretty sure the man has been ordered by his father to keep an eye on him, which would be annoying if Asuma were less interesting. The Hokage’s son is well-learned and well-travelled, and his stories fill the silences that would otherwise be awkward.

Then there’s Kurenai, who goes wherever Asuma does these days, and Yugao. She’s the only one of his former ANBU squad that he speaks to with anything resembling regularity, if only because she’s been going on fewer mission since she and Hayate started spending more time together. Tenzō, when he isn’t off on missions, will invite Kakashi for a drink or a meal (and then they both spend the evening trying to nonchalantly trick the other into paying for it).

He tries not to think of Itachi Uchiha at all.

“Are you actually going to juggle geese?” Kurenai asks, her mouth quirking upwards at Kakashi.

Asuma chuckles again. “That sounds like it would be messy…”

“Maybe I’ll be assigned a mission and be able to avoid him,” Kakashi groans.

“I don’t know – it looks like he’s coming back,” Kurenai points out, staring out into the distance.

Kakashi doesn’t need to be told twice.

Without really looking, he dives through the door of the nearest shop, just in time to avoid Gai’s triumphant return – now balancing half a dozen geese in his arms.

Peeking through the corner of the nearby window, he watches as Gai—upon realising Kakashi is nowhere to be found—begins to demonstrate exactly how one juggles geese to a bemused Kurenai and Asuma.

Kakashi sighs and slumps down, pressing his head against the wall. It’s going to be a while before he can slip away. Maybe there’s a back entrance somewhere—

“Unless you’re looking for a way to blow shit up, you shouldn’t be here,” a bored voice says from somewhere behind him. “My boss doesn’t like loitering.”

Kakashi looks up, noticing in the process that his chosen hide-out is one of the many surplus and supply stores in the village. The smell of ink, paper and gunpowder fill the air, and when he takes notices of the walls he sees row upon row of specialty parchment—the kind for explosive tags. He glances across the sales floor, for the first time taking note of the girl reading a book behind the check-out counter. She’s familiar to him, although in the second-hand kind of way that everyone in a small village is familiar, so it only takes a moment to place her.

Twins are rare in such a small village, and Manako Inuzuka is identical to her sister Hana. Brunette and dark eyed, with a solid-looking medium frame and a languid, unselfconscious bearing he doesn’t see in a lot of girls her age. She lacks the distinctive Inuzuka facial markings, which is odd considering she’s the child of the leader, but somehow she manages to look just as fierce.

Kakashi occasionally has business with Hana—sometimes his ninja hounds require urgent medical care, and she’s set to take over the village’s veterinary practice—but he has never spoken to Manako beyond a few random, forgettable encounters. He doesn’t expect this one to be any different.

Except, then his attention falls on the book she’s reading.

The book which happens to be the next installment of his favourite series.

The one he has been desperately waiting on for the last six months.

“That’s the latest Icha Icha novel,” he says.

“It is.”

“It’s not even supposed to be out for another month.”

“And yet, here it is,” Manako replies, turning a page.

“How did you get your hands on this?”

“I know a guy.”

He begins to approach the counter. “Can I know a guy?”

“That depends—are you into bondage?”

Kakashi does a bit of a double-take at this, opening his mouth and then closing it again as he studies her. She and Hana were in Itachi’s year, which means she can’t be more than fifteen or sixteen years old.

She has to be messing with him.

Even so, he’s not entirely sure what to say to that. At his silence, she finally looks up, considering him with a critical eye.

“Oh. You’re him,” she says, and Kakashi waits for the usual qualifier—he knows the things people whisper about him: cold-blooded, friend-killer, traitor’s son. But then she adds, “You’re Pakkun’s pet.”

“Pet?” he echoes, surprised and disbelieving.

“Sorry. That’s how the dogs talk,” she says, though she doesn’t sound or look very sorry, turning her attention back to her book in a clear dismissal. “I mean to say you’re his human.”

He’s not sure that’s much better and gets the sense that she’s mocking him.

“Your sister is a lot more polite than you,” he says, which sounds immature and over-simplistic, but he’s still a bit caught off balance and doesn’t know what else to say.

She doesn’t seem ruffled by the comparison at all.

“So I’m told.”

Again, her words drip with dismissal, and Kakashi is inclined to take the hint. He turns back toward the shop entrance.

Except –

He turns around. “Out of curiosity—”

“No.”

He frowns. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“You’re not getting my book.”

“I’d pay you for it.”

“But then it would not longer be my book,” she says, and then glances up, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I’m possessive and materialistic like that.”

Kakashi resists the urge to pout, but only because he is a grown-ass man and a jōnin and feared by half the shinobi world.

“Surely there’s some arrangement we can come to?” he suggests, trying to sound smooth and casual and not like a slavering fanboy.

“You’re that desperate for cheesy romance and long drawn-out sex?” she raises an eyebrow at him, and he feels his cheeks warm beneath his mask because does she have to be that blunt about it?!

“Well what’s your excuse for reading it?”

“I have two X-chromosomes,” she retorts, and then crosses her arms. “And didn’t you hear? Long. Drawn-out. Sex.”

His cheeks flooding with even more colour.

“Should you really be reading that sort of thing?” he asks, a little tightly. “It’s not exactly…”

“Oh, but if it was a teenaged boy it would be alright?” she counters. “Talk about double standards…”

“I never said—”

“I have just as much right to read it as you,” she shoots back. “And if you think about it, it’s kind of creepier when it’s an old guy like you doing it.”

“…Old?” Kakashi demands, voice cracking a little in astonishment.

“Well, with that hair of yours,” she shrugs. “Easy mistake to make.” He stares at her in reply, and she smirks. “See? It’s not nice to generalize about someone’s age.”

Kakashi decide right then that it’s time to leave.

Juggling geese is suddenly a much less challenging prospect than any more absurdist conversation with this…person. He doesn’t even ask about the back entrance, and is almost on the point of opening the door again when—

“I guess I could make you a deal.”

Kakashi pauses, the sudden image of himself reading his beloved, long-book at the end of a tiring day. It’s been so long…

“I’m listening,” Kakashi says, turning back.

“I need someone to field-test my specialty explosive tags,” she tells him. “But Old Man Third won’t let me hire a genin squad. Something about legal issues or child protection or whatever.” She makes a dismissive hand gesture. “None of the chūnin are allowed to, either, ever since the last time some moron didn’t read the labels and blew off a testicle.” Kakashi’s cheeks rapidly lose all earlier warmth. “And most jōnin are pretentious pricks that think their missions are more important than functioning equipment, so...”

Kakashi’s eye twitches. “Noted.”

“But I’ve heard you’re moderately intelligent, and apparently, you’re fast too, so here’s what I want—you come by every so often and try out my specialty tags, then come give me feedback, and I’ll hook you up with this book.” Kakashi is about to say that seems like an awful lot of work for one book, and then she adds, “And any others that my contact sets me up with.”

“You’re making literature seem a lot more clandestine than it is,” he accuses.

“Not all of us are elite ninjas. Some of us have to make our fun where we can,” she replies. “Are you in or out?”

Kakashi turns the offer over in his head.

The whole thing sounds an awful lot like responsibility, or even worse, accountability, and unless the well-being of the village is at stake, he tends to avoid both.

However, on the other hand, he’s heard from others that Manako’s incendiary devices are top quality, and that she doesn’t limit her work to simple explosives. Which could prove useful in situations where he doesn’t feel like expending effort.

And he really wants to read the book.

It’s telling that the only considerations he have pertain to his own laziness and guilty reading pleasures.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” he says.

“Good,” she agrees, nodding in a businesslike fashion. “But you’re still waiting until after I finish reading it.”

Which causes Kakashi’s shoulders to slump because how did he not see that coming. He can predict the moves of enemy ninja before they even consider making them, and this girl outmaneuvered him with a single sentence.

She smirks at him, black eyes dancing. “Of course, if I didn’t have to cut my break short lugging boxes around and doing actual work, I could probably finish this in the next hour…”

He shoots her an unimpressed look.

“Do you actually think I’m that desperate?”

“I think you just promised to carry out potentially dangerous field testing that could possible get you blown up just to get a chance to read the book. Damn straight I think you’re desperate,” she declares, black eyes dancing. “So either you’re really bored with your life, or really weird.”

She looks him over again, and he gets the sense that this time she is actually studying him, because her eyes linger on his mask.

“Weird,” she concludes, and nods to herself. “Which is good. We’ll be friends.” She then closes the book, holding the place with one finger and pokes another in his face. “But no sex, okay? I don’t want to deal with sad puppy-dog eyes when I break your heart.”

He can’t help his jaw dropping at either implication.

“Now get to work. There are crates of blank scrolls in the back that need to be stocked up here,” she says, going back to her reading. “And if you don’t do a good job, I’m calling out spoilers.”

Which is how Kakashi Hatake, elite jōnin of the Hidden Leaf, finds himself stocking shelves for the next two hours, wondering what exactly he has gotten himself into.

つづく

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated, and very motivating—and if you enjoy my writing, check out my original stories as they are posted on patreon!

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#friday fic requests #naruto fanfiction #hatake kakashi #Kakashi Hatake #inuzuka manako #manako inuzuka #humor #first impressions #first meeting #original character #behind the scenes #spot the reference

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