IDIL's Note: Hello! Yes, yes, I know I'm horrible. ^^; Giving such sporadic updates...it's quite shameful of me. XD But anyway, nothing can be done about it, so there! Just enjoy the fic! ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
She glares at him from across the room, positively infuriated, and wonders how she manages to be in love with someone who can be such a complete asshole.
He has just broken the news to her that he is joining ANBU, which completely goes against what they agreed upon a few days before, and degrades the value of her opinion, but he doesn't seem all that fazed. Needless to say, from the looks he is receiving, she is not pleased.
"So that's it then? It's all been finalized?" He looks up, surprised that she has already decided to speak to him; usually it takes her a few days to calm down before she can be civil with him. But he figures he should take all the blessings he gets and just appreciate the fact she's not trying to shove a scalpel down his throat…not that he believes she ever would; she's much too compassionate for such a vicious action.
He nods in response to her question, tacking on, "I leave first thing tomorrow."
Her eyes flash violently at the statement, and for a few moments, he's actually scared that she will shove her scalpel down his throat. However she calms down, noticing the guilty look in his eyes; she hates that look, and hates whenever he feels that way because of her. So she doesn't yell at him or curse him or shove anything down his throat.
Instead, her eyes soften and she moves her chair so that she's right in front of him. She can tell that he's still afraid of what she might do, of how she'll react, and the guilt in his eyes only increases as she stares miserably down at her hands. Before he knows what is happening, she takes his right hand, and begins to stroke his scars lovingly with her thumb. She smiles kindly up at him, not that he realizes; his eyes are glued to their hands, and he watches, transfixed, as she moves her hand over his. He knows he doesn't deserve her kindness, doesn't deserve her, so he doesn't understand why she's here, why she loves him, and the question forces itself up his throat: "Why?"
She doesn't answer his question at all, forcing it to the back of her mind as she leans forward; they're so close that their foreheads are touching. "It's ok," she whispers, "I'm here…I'll always be here." He looks up at her from under his bangs, and she's happy to see that the guilt is beginning to fade away, replaced with only a relieved look.
"So you're all right with this?" He thinks that maybe the answer he's looking for is in her eyes, but he needs to make sure; the guilt won't disappear until he's sure he's forgiven.
"It's ok," she repeats, "I'm here." And with those words the guilt and fear disappears from his eyes entirely. He'll never admit it, but she'll always have a place with him, and he can only hope that despite his lack of kindness and redemption that he'll always have a place with her. She smiles warmly at him, and he feels his cheeks heat up, despite himself.
He clears his throat, and moves to stand up. "I should get going now. I need to pack for the mission."
She nods in understanding and stands up as well, walking with him to the door of her apartment. He's about to leave, the door already halfway open, when suddenly he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turns around, regarding her quizzically as she wrings her hands nervously, biting her bottom lip. "Kakashi?"
"Hm?"
Her hand is still on his shoulder, and she brings her other arm to rest on the other shoulder, pulling him down unexpectedly by the neck. She smiles at his puzzled face, though she is still nervous, and plants a quick and shaky kiss on the top of his head. "Take care of yourself, okay?" she says as she releases him, her hands smoothing the collar of his shirt.
He stands stiffly in front of the doorway, coughing lightly into his raised elbow as he tries to hide the crimson blush rushing up his cheeks. When he is sure that it is safe, he lets the arm fall back to his side, staring at her uncomfortably with those same "Why?" eyes as before. "Sure," he smiles with fake reassurance, and then bounds off towards his home at the speed of light, leaving her standing alone in the doorway.
She stands there for a while, thinking about his question. She had understood what he meant by "Why?" but truth be told, the answer was a mystery to even her. Why did she love him? She had no idea. They both knew that he could be a total uncaring complete asshole at times, and he had seen how his actions and words often hurt her, but she had no idea why she remained in love with him. It's just that he had always been alone, and she'd sensed the pain and loneliness he'd managed to hide so well…she saw the guilt and fear in his eyes whenever he'd done something to hurt her…he was scared to lose her. Especially now. The rest of their team had already died…if he lost her too, he would go back to truly being alone. She shook her head vehemently at the thought: she didn't want that.
She loved him because of that, as twisted as it may have sounded. She loved him because…because she feared that if she didn't love him, no one else would. She was inexorably bound to him, and he to her. And while she hated to admit it, that thought, and the thought of him being left all alone – it scared her more than anything.
