Hey guys,this is my first (published) fan fiction about Naruto. This idea has been stuck in my head for ages. I hope you like it. I'm not a native English speaker, so bear with me if you find something wrong, because I don't have a beta (although I'm searching for a willing one). I did my best to correct everything. Later,I'll check again.
To my readers from ThirdChoice….I know I'mtaking too long to update… Leah's story is almost done ,but now I'm stuck at the same point that I stopped ThirdChoice. I just needed to write other ideas that have been plaguing my head. I've been for a while out of home country, completely focused on my studies, but Ithink now I'll have time to write properly again. Besides,I rather update at a slower rhythm and give you a plot with quality. Next two chapters are already done, but I'm still not satisfied with them.
I hope you like it.Let me know.
Usual Disclaimer:I (sadly) don't own Naruto or any of its characters..blablabla.
Images
Kakashi knows he should go to the hospital, but still, he refuses to do so. The blood is staining the once white sheets and he is sure the cut on his shoulder is infected, because it hurts like hell. And its smell doesn't seem right. But still, he refuses to go.
He hates every single thing about that aseptic building. From the insipid food, passing through the lack of colors, finishing at those maddening nurses. He hates it all. Maybe, if there were some decent miso soup. Or a vivid mixture of pink, red, white and green. Or who knows someone who would not treat him like a piece of meat, in whatever sense one might interpret this.
He had that once. A certain jade eyed girl, who would hide decent food and would bring it to him , always complaining though… and that would poke him around with no care, but gentle enough to bring him a satisfied smile to his face.
He heard a knock on the door. Usually he could tell who was his (unwanted) visitor by the pattern of knockings and the force behind the sound. A persistent banging followed by someone crashing through his window would mean Naruto. The rhythmic sound of three hard knocks and two light ones would mean Genma. The sound of a key finding its place would be Sakura. The person that was interrupting his daydreaming current activity was kind of new at his visitor's panel. He would hear four knocks before the sound of a shoulder supporting the rest of her weight on that old door. He would never have the chance to open the door, because she always barged in before he could unlock. Not that locks were needed in the shinobi world.
"What did I tell you the last time, Hatake?" The pale blond questioned him, bringing her usual first aid kit. Kakashi knew that only the case was cute. Inside of that thing, there were needles that would scare the weakest ones. Sometimes he would include himself in that category.
"And what did I answer back, Yamanaka?" Kakashi retorted, without troubling himself to open his eyes. Most of the time, he agreed with her lazy teammate. Women are troublesome.
"I promised her I would keep an eye on you." Ino mumbled, ripping apart packages of sterile gauze. Just the faintest smell of the iodine made him gag.
"You can tell her I'm just fine." Kakashi said, instantly regretting his choice of words. Ino's hands were not gentle when she was pissed with him, which happened to be always.
"For Kami's sake… you were going to let it get worse than this?" Ino complained. The Copy Nin just shrugged. He felt the tingling feeling of a foreigner chakra on his shoulder. He wished he could pretend it was hers, but it was so different that he hadn't even the chance of doing so.
"You know…she wouldn't …" Ino started to say, but Kakashi knew what was coming.
"Don't talk about her…" Kakashi stopped her.
"But she…" Ino tried again.
"She had a choice. It was her choice." Those words tasted bitter on the back of his tongue. Ino packed her stuff again and left with no more words.
She fucking had a choice, and she still picked the path that took her away from him. His throat clenched when he found out that she would never be his again, that he would never feel that soft skin beneath her breast or the sweet taste of that particular place on her thighs.
Images of her nineteen years old form haunted him. The way she would unconsciously draw his attention by how her laugh filled the room during those boring missions. The way her left eye would blink at him, saying she had his back. He never really had one of those people before. He was always the one looking after his team. But with her, he felt safe for the first time to fully sleep outside. He was chakra depleted from the previous battle and despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep his eyes open. Normally, he would have pushed himself to the point of passing out near the gates, but that day he decided against it. His instincts were proven correct on the next morning, when he woke up to find two Iwa Anbu gagged and unconscious by his side and a very relaxed Sakura cooking their breakfast. She had grown into a phenomenal kunoichi, he realized. He was sorry that he couldn't take credit for that.
Images of the same pink haired teammate at the glory of her twenty years harassed him. It was the year that she announced she would try for the next ANBU exams. She needed a sponsor, but he denied her request. She had no idea what being an ANBU meant. Those shinobi rules had almost no flexibility when you were part of the elite troop. If you were told to do something, you would have to interpret those orders literally. Unfortunately, Sai was too soft around her and signed the damn paper. The next time he saw her, she was wearing the gray uniform, red scarf and cat-like mask on the side of her face. He would say she never looked more beautiful, but he would be lying. The future image of her body tangled with his, wearing nothing but his sheets was truly breathtaking. But he didn't know that back then.
That same week, he decided he would rejoin the forces. Even though he recognized her abilities, the Copy-nin felt restless about letting her without someone truly experienced to cover her back. He tried to tell himself that it was only because she had been his student, though he never worried much about Naruto. After all, as one of his last resources, he had the fox and few were the shinobi who could outmatch that. Later, he discovered his worries were somewhat without fundament since Sakura had turned into a scary little thing. They became quite a team. At first, he was placed as her taichou, completing a four people squad. Ten missions later, the other two were killed in combat. He always wondered if he was the one who brought the heavy, dark death cloud around with him, because everyone around him died. Either she was the exception, or she brought him luck, because at that same year, one hundred and thirty seven missions later, they were still alive, unscratched, making a new record of 'days without accidents'. Never a team had survived so many S-rank missions. At the end of the same year, after a fortunate (or unfortunate) undercover mission, he kissed her for the first time. They were a couple and should act like a couple. Yeah. Cliché. But clichés are what they are for a reason. For one second he believed she wasn't bothered at all. However, a pronounced tint of pink on her cheeks and a pair of fingers brushing her own lips told him otherwise. He couldn't say if it was a good thing or a bad one, because if he wanted to be honest with himself, he would admit that he had already fantasized about doing a lot more than that. Through the rest of the day, she avoided contact with him and he mentally agreed that kissing a former sensei, fourteen years older probably was on her list of traumatic experiences.
Later on the week, he found out that he wasn't entirely right, because without a reason, she tugged his mask down, taking a good time to look at his face, smiled and kissed him in a way he would never guess she knew how. For a thirty four years old man, he could be very naïve sometimes.
When he said he wasn't entirely right, it was because he actually featured a place on the group of traumatic experiences. She told him a few months later that he had totally ruined the kissing experiencing for her. How could she enjoy other kisses after that one? It was just like eating the best piece of pie and having to content with a cupcake. The comparison was unfair, she told him, and he had no choice but believe her, because he understood the feeling.
A month later, during a mission which involved seduction tactics from her part, he realized he couldn't bare the sight of other man touching her the way he did when there wasn't anyone around. Kami, he really hated those missions… give him one hundred man to slaughter and he would do it with a smile under his masked face…ask her to charm someone and he would be seriously tempted to ruin the mission. They were lucky that she was very good with genjutsu and he had his Sharingan, because otherwise there would be really pissed of daimyos chasing him after their intimate parts. The Hokage learned later that sending them on those missions wasn't safe at all.
Images of her jade eyes following him when she was twenty-one tormented him. During a mission with their loudmouth friend and the (almost) unemotional artist, he learned that he couldn't imagine living without her. It was still a secret that he knew her body more than anyone would ever know (at least he wished so) and that she knew exactly what to do to make his limbs feel boneless. She didn't care, but he was afraid that she would regret as soon as she realized that people would look at them differently. Not that he cared about that, but he couldn't cause her the pain of being judged by his actions, because he was too egoistic to the point that he didn't know how to let her go.
Akatsuki was at its end, but some remaining members and an unknown leader still were after the last two Jinchuriki. Their team unfortunately met the plant man and a watery boy on their way to Suna. The fight was ugly. Sai was poisoned a few minutes after the battle begun and at the mention of a certain name that occupied a large chunk of their past, Naruto lost his control and three tails popped from him. Sakura only had time to avoid that the venom from spreading too much in Sai's leg. Kakashi was quick enough to press the seal against his back, but it only left two of them able to fight. They worked well together. He knew every one of her moves, knew when he had to avoid her violent jutsus. She knew how to move her body in milimetric scale to the point they could always be no more than one feet apart, yet, highly efficient. They were like an extension of each other, complementing techniques. The plant man, Zetsu, appeared everywhere and his sharingan pushed him to his limit. Their target was Naruto, and for one second, one bloody second, the pink medic-nin had to step away from their formation to protect the blond one, who still had his reflexes slowed. A poisoned ivy trapped her and pierced her skin, the Venus trap ready to attack her. In a quick movement, she grabbed the ivy and punched the Akatsuki, holding him for enough time to allow Kakashi to hit him with a potent katon jutsu.
The younger Akatsuki member stood a few feet away from them. His purple eyes kept looking from the almost carbonized body to the couple, back and forward, back and forward. He didn't understand why the girl wasn't dead yet. Deciding his life didn't worth that fight, especially when the nine-tail wasn't his target and he was in the freaking desert, he disappeared.
Kakashi sighed in relief. The sigh was half kept on his throat when he saw her stumbling back, making a soft thud on the sand, her eyeballs rolling in its cave, members quivering and a clammy skin too cold when compared to Suna's temperature. Panic filled his veins as he felt the slow rhythm of her heart. Words came out incoherently of her mouth. A Suna patrol shinobi reached them a few seconds later, obviously alerted by the battle signs. Kakashi, as tired as he was, never let anyone carry her. He could feel her hands clenching his bloodied shirt. He wasn't aware of who was taking Sai or who took care of Zetsu's body. His sight was focused on those cyanotic lips. He could feel his mask getting weater as he heard those spasmodic breathings coming from her. He prayed for the first time in many years. Not her. Please,not her.
He didn't know if it was an answer to his praying or just his instincts. But he saw the summoning tattoo she made on her stomach and in sheer desperation took a drop of her blood on his fingers and summoned a small, probably divided version of Katsuyu, who channeled Tsunade's chakra to at least stabilize Sakura's condition. If he hadn't, his life would end on that day, along with hers. He now knows that.
When jade eyes met his gray one inside of that sandy hospital, his first reaction was hold her face between his hands and cry like he hadn't since his sensei's death. Which meant a couple of tears rolling down his cheek, an unusual sight for such an emotionally controlled man. She kissed him, ignoring the wide open mouths of their teammates. There, he decided that if he had ruined her kissing experience with anybody else, she had ruined love for him. Because there was no way he was going to love anybody else as he loved her.
Images of her, in the glory of her twenty-two years plagued him. In Konoha, was well-known that they were a couple. As expected, there were people who thought he was taking advantage of her. Or that she evilly seduced him, only to dump him when she got bored. They didn't care. Their friends supported them and life was okay. He would say that life was perfect if they weren't preparing themselves to the Fourth Shinobi world war. Alliances were being made. Treaties were being signed. Sound, Rain and Stone were ready to knock on Konoha's door. But as he said, life was almost perfect, because he had the luck to wake up every single day feeling her breathing on his neck. Because despite the usual unavoidable deaths, all of their friends were still alive. Because they had each other. He taught her that love isn't always painful. She taught him that love was tangible.
When the war begun, they were shoulder by shoulder on the battle fields. Along with the rest of team seven and several others, they were on the front line.
New legends begun, others just were reaffirmed and myths stories began to run from mouth to mouth.
About the Copy nin, the man with more than a thousand jutsus that didn't know how to die.
About the Konoha's Orange Demon, the boy, no, man, with blond hair that could create an army of thousands of shinobi.
About the White Hawk, the prodigy of pearly white eyes that disabled an entire platoon.
About the Konoha's Cherry Phoenix, that flee above them all, with wings of pure flaming chakra, leaving an unmatched path of destruction behind with just one punch.
Kakashi was sure that if his other student, the last Uchiha, was among them, team seven would be considered the Neo-Sannin. They were too powerful not to be recognized as such.
He always had to remind himself to focus on the battle because she was too beautiful not to watch. Apparently, this was the same mistake that many of their enemies made.
At the beginning of the war, just their names were enough to make a bunch of seasoned Shinobi tremble. Kakashi would always watch amused as they, without realizing, cleared the ground where the medic-nin would land. She would always wink at him and they would continue their battle side by side. That jutsu consumed too much chakra, but was a good remind of Konoha's power and allowed them to take a lot of their enemies at once, giving a strategical advantage as well. His pink haired lover only risked performing it because she had found out a way to replenish her chakra levels from Naruto. She would never submit herself to chakra exhaustion. The Hokage already freed her from the hospital work because she knew that Haruno Sakura was indispensable at the field. But she never failed to remember the young kunoichi that her friends might need their help.
And time after time, Kakashi would look above mesmerized as Naruto and the pinkette protected their gates. His Sharingan would never miss the spectacle that was seeing her powerful katon jutsu being fed by Naruto's Fuuton deadly strikes. Regrettably, at the end, it didn't matter that she was beautiful fighting, or that Kakashi was the epitome of efficiency, or that Naruto could be a synonym for devastation. Lives were lost. Both of them had their hands dripping red at the end of each battle and a part of it was from their friends. One by one, they were leaving them behind. Chouza and his son. The weaponry girl. The green beast of Konoha. Shizune. The genjutsu mistress. So many.
Kakashi was grateful that he could wash the blood out, have his wounds healed by her and then hold her until her sobs died into a peaceful breathing. He would rather have that than nothing at all t keep his ghosts away.
Images of her infamous pink hair, flowing around her when she was twenty-three bedeviled him. At this age, her hair was longer and if he was on the other side of the lines, he would be extremely cautious of her. It means that she terrified the majority. Uzumaki Naruto and Haruno Sakura turned into the kind of legends…heroes… that inspire the younger ones. For a few months in that year, truce blessed them. Both sides lost too much. She sat on his sofa, waiting for him to gather everything. Their services were requested by the Hokage. The woods were full of spies and Konoha, Sand and some other smaller villages stood for too long without knowing who they were fighting against. Many were sent, but none returned. Kakashi and Sakura performed a high quality henge. His hair was no longer grayish white. Hers couldn't be pink. Spies must look ordinary. Black and brown.
Words were thrown in the air. Many of them, they knew that were pure fallacy. But this one they needed to check. Someone started to spread the story of Otogakure' leader. A demon with red eyes.
Kakashi didn't take his eyes of her. He knew she no longer claimed her love for the last Uchiha. In fact, he had witnessed that time when she shook Naruto's shoulders, begging him to forget his promise. He knew that she never forgot hers.
On that same mission, they discovered that the rumors were true. It was hard to contain the Kyuubi vessel. It took him a while to understand that Sasuke represented part of the forces behind the attack. The only thing that convinced him to stay in Konoha was Sakura reminding him that they would need him as Hokage soon. They all needed him.
A few weeks and a lot of deaths later, Suna was completely whipped out. Only few, along with the Kazekage, were able to survive and were lodged at Konoha. The council reunited and the head of the clans decided that something had to be done. Something besides waiting for their attacks. That same night, Kakashi made sure the woman in his bed forgot about everything. The pink hair formed a curtain around him and he wished he could stay enveloped by it for a long, long time.
Images of her soft smile, at the age of twenty-four crushed him. He arrived home to find her waiting for him, wearing the complete uniform and mask. He asked her what their next mission was. For the last five years, he could count in a pair of hands the number of missions they didn't took together. She answered it was a solo one. The gray haired man automatically felt his throat closing. He asked her what the mission was. She said she couldn't tell until it was done. Classified. She stepped forward and inhaled his scent. Something was very wrong. She brushed her lips against his. Slowly he felt his clothes being peeled of, her clothes following next. Every movement she made was torturing slow. He didn't know what was her mission, but he begged her not to go. She gave him her soft smile, kissed him once again and disappeared before the sun rise.
Even if the Hokage didn't tell him, he would know soon. Apparently, Konoha finally had something about the leader of Rain.
Later, he heard tales about an angel and demon, fighting side by side against the Amekage. The woman with wings that spit fire and the man with red eyes, that controlled thunderstorms. This was the same man who brought her back to him, as beautiful as they had seen her by the last time. The last surviving Uchiha turned himself in and Kakashi made sure he was in the interrogation room. Konoha had information that convinced Sasuke that Madara had been manipulating him. The entire room went silent at the mention of that name. After hours, Kakashi's patience finished. He didn't want to know the fucking history. He wanted to know why her. Why her. Why didn't they call him or anybody else.
"Why her." His voice echoed in the room. He was doing his best to keep it steady.
"She volunteered." She heard someone he was sure that was the head of the Hyuuga clan answering.
"Naruto and Sakura were our two first options. She knew he would go, so she volunteered before he could even know about the mission." Tsunade said, her voice shaking. Kakashi didn't need to see her face to know that her eyes were red of crying, full of regret. The blond woman handled him a single envelope.
Kakashi balled his fists, holding back the killing intent that boiled his blood. Only once in his life he felt like this. He wanted to demand, to ask if he wasn't good enough for the job. But he knew that they needed the best, and this generation was fated to surpass his.
Kakashi never wanted to know how she died. But he did anyway. She died with honor, the Uchiha said, allowing him the opportunity of giving the final blow. Madara was already incapacitated, but he was too fast. Sasuke was thrown away, her chakra was low. She saw a chance, but was caught. Kakashi never cared about knowing further details. She was gone. He, as always, felt like he failed his loved ones.
So, now, here he was, eight months later, in his bedroom, with a recently cleaned wound on his shoulder, wondering when would be his next mission. Sometimes he allows himself to smell the clothes that she left at his house; the jasmine scent is already fading away. He tries to leave her side of the bed untouched, but he can't help but roll during his sleep, stretching his arm to hold a waist that isn't there. He often dreams that Sakura is alive and it's the worst dream he has ever had because he knows it can't last forever.
Sometimes it hurts so much, that he becomes angry with her. Why did she choose to go? It was a suicidal mission and she knew it. His selfish side whishes someone had died in her place. For several times, he felt a certain inclination to burn the letters that she wrote him explaining her reasons, but he never had enough courage.
Weeks pass by relentlessly. His katana never falters against his targets. He tries to imagine that his enemy has the Sharingan. The blond man who is now the Hokage asks him to slow down, but Kakashi can't. He can't go back to his house, to his empty room, so full of memories. There, every time he closes his eyes, he sees her smiling at him, heating their coffee, stretched on the sofa reading her scrolls tucking her toes under his thighs, arching her back away from the bed, towards him. It's too much. Besides, the village needs money for the reconstruction and they can't deny that the Copy Ninja's work is highly profitable.
After a particularly tough mission, he's stumbling, trying to find his way home. He knows he should go directly to the hospital this time, but it can wait. He needs to talk to them first. He looks at the memorial stone and wonders how many more he will visit before he goes. He wished his name could go right under hers. If he closes his eyes pretty tight, he can feel them around him. Minato. Obito. Rin. Jiraya. Sakura.
"Kakashi. Kakashi." He heard. He's losing his mind. It's nothing new to him. He could always see them. Of course he would hear her. It's what his mind wants. He fights the temptation of opening his eyes because he knows she won't be there.
"Kakashi." He listens once more. He knows that he's probably hallucinating and someone is calling him at the hospital. He can feel the aseptic smell, the sound of metal trays. But he swears that he feels her chakra.
When he opens his eyes, a bright light blinds him. A small hand holds his face and as he squints his eyes, he can distinguish green. And pink. And red.
"Is it you?" He dares to ask.
She smiles at him and brushes her lips against his. He raises his hand and twirls a lock of her straight hair between his fingers. She looks up at him, her eyes shining.
" Come on, it's time." She says pulling him with her.
Kakashi doesn't even notice the beep turning into a steady line or the anguish that fills the operating room. He's with her. That's all that matters.
Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Images of her light skin, when she looked twenty-four years old (even though he knew that her age didn't matter anymore) gave him peace.
A few steps ahead, a blond also known as the Yellow Flash, a perverted Sannin, a smiley Uchiha, a girl with purple rectangles on her cheeks and the White Fang were waiting for him. It took him a while, as it was supposed to be, but now he's home.
His name is right under hers.