When this idea originally occurred to me the boys were around fourteen or fifteen in my head. Then I remembered how terrible most of the cast's childhoods are in Naruto, checked a few facts, and readjusted things - they're in actuality about nine here. Nine and tragically orphaned and sent off into killing people . . . and harbouring Feelings and baby crushes.
"As though anyone like you could even hope to match a Hatake."
Gai swallowed and ran a little faster, feeling his heart throbbing hard in his chest as he pushed on. He'd long left the rest of the genin - and chuunin - behind, but their words dogged him as once the harsh words about his father had.
"Maa. . . Hardly a challenge to me."
Kakashi's voice had been flat and uncaring, rather than taunting or vicious, but. . .
Gai gathered himself and leapt, settling himself on the flat, weathered top of an old outpost. He'd come farther out than he should have, maybe, but. . . He curled his legs up and wrapped his arms tightly around them, squeezing his hands together.
Gai knew he was a joke to most of his agemates - though not as much as his father had been - but it still . . . hurt.
"Delusional. A mess. Just like his father, even if he thinks he can match up to the Leaf's best - he'll earn the same name, I'm sure. Eternal Genin. Ignore him, like Hatake does."
Gai flinched, remembering years of being half-dismissed by Kakashi even as he returned repeatedly, asking and nagging and struggling to match himself to Kakashi. To best his rival.
"Can you imagine? Seeing Hatake waste time, ever, on Maito Gai's ridiculous challenges? Why would he even bother?"
Gai scrubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath, pushing down the surge of pain in his chest. It didn't matter, he tried to tell himself, but that hurt even worse, because it. . .
It did, to him. Even if it didn't to his-
No, not his.
Because why would Hatake Kakashi, the brilliant genius - just like his father - who had already made jounin, youngest one in Konohagakure's records, bother with Maito Gai who had yet to even manage fighting his way to chuunin?
Bother calling him a rival? Kakashi had never wanted anything to do with him, even when Sakumo had encouraged them to be friends as children. To challenge each other and learn together.
Gai didn't know why Kakashi had put up with him so much as he had.
A dull ping of metal made him tense, startled. He raised his head, catching his breath, and a spiky, moon-pale head of hair came into view over the edge of the outpost. Gai tensed, his eyes widening.
Why would Kakashi have come after him?
Gai looked around, and extended his senses - weak as they were - but he could find no other reason for Kakashi to be here. Surely. And. . . Why would he be ascending the outpost where Gai was perched? There was nothing of interest here.
Kakashi walked over the edge onto the top, feet sure as anything on the vertical surface, as he was wherever he went. Gai looked away hurriedly, rubbing his face as subtly as he could, trying to get some of the signs of his tears, his distress, off his face.
"Gai, look, I-"
Gai looked up, sniffing a bit. "What?" he said wetly, and winced at his inability to at least sound unaffected. So unlike Kakashi, who was never bothered outwardly by anything.
"I'm. . . Gai," Kakashi paused, eyes narrowing a little, "Gai, I am-" he broke off.
"What is it?" Gai asked, scrubbing at his face with the heel of one hand, giving up on trying to do it subtly. He watched Kakashi out of the corner of his uncovered eye.
"This isn't working." Kakashi said, with a huff, and Gai winced again. "Not like this."
Then Gai stiffened as Kakashi settled sideways across his thighs, all bony skinniness and thin, wiry muscle. Kakashi's stormy eyes met his and . . . he looked uncertain? Gai swallowed nervously, watching him.
Kakashi reached up with one shaking hand, and Gai's eyes widened further. Kakashi never wavered, certainly never shook, and it was . . . almost terrifying seeing him do so now, especially when-
"Kakashi!" Gai said abortively.
Kakashi smiled at him, tight and awkward and nervous, and Gai could see it, because he had just pulled his mask down to his chin. He ducked his head, then stilled for a moment, catching his breath with a quick little huff.
He leaned forward and kissed Gai, a fleeting touch, thin lips firm and awkward against Gai's own, then pulled back, swallowing and looking away. His cheeks were pink before he pulled his mask back up, his fingers trembling even more now.
"Ka- Kakashi?" Gai said even as Kakashi put a bit more space between them.
Kakashi rolled forward to perch on his knees and the balls of his feet, turning to look over his shoulder at Gai. He looked almost hunted, his sharp chin jutting out belligerently.
"Kakashi?" Gai said again, more faintly.
"You are my rival." Kakashi said harshly, almost mulishly. "No one else ever- Don't let any of them try and tell you that you aren't worth matching me. You're-" his voice cracked.
Gai felt a little faint, and he propped his knees up again, rubbing his head with one hand.
"I'm not-" Gai's own voice faltered. "I'm not up to your standards, I can't really challenge you, can I?" he said, though it hurt.
"You challenge me all the time." Kakashi said with a snort, his eyes almost closing in a smile. "Certainly no one else ever even tries."
"I don't-" Gai began, shifting forwards, and Kakashi turned on him with narrowed eyes.
"Oi." Kakashi huffed. "I'm not going to let anyone talk bad about my rival." He moved closer to Gai and held out a hand, not shaking any more.
Gai smiled slightly, reaching up and clasping the offered hand, letting Kakashi pull him to his feet. "You- Rivals?" he asked, something thick in his throat.
"Eternal rivals, you said, didn't you?" Kakashi said, raising an eyebrow at Gai.
"Yosh!" Gai nodded firmly, squeezing Kakashi's hand. He tried a grin, though it felt a little wobbly, and Kakashi gave his odd little smile again.
"You know, the river's not far from here." Kakashi said, tilting his head and looking off through the trees. He met Gai's eyes again. "Race me there?" he challenged.
Gai's grin broadened.