Author's Note: Konnichiwa! This is my first time publishing here and my very first time publishing in the Naruto universe. Before I lose my nerve, and since it's appropriate for Valentine's Day to put more love out in the world-I really want to get this out there! Over the years I have so enjoyed the work of other fanfiction authors-especially in dark and lonely times-and so now I hope that you will find pleasure and escape in these words of mine. Diehard KakaHana and KakaIta fan, there will be much more to come.
Rated M for adult themes, implied/allusions to torture, sexual assault/rape/coercion (in flashback), and language. However, there is no explicit smut (yet) so I guess that makes it more limeade than lemon? I like my gin with limes-I hope it works for you! Correspondence always welcome. And now, please, enjoy...
Ja matta!
Backstory
Brokenhearted after her clifftop conversation with Kakashi, Hanare despairs and returns to Jomae Village despite having truly deleted the intel on the Leaf.
Though she is not executed, she is subjected to an endless myriad of horrible punishments at the hands of "Grandfather's" successors. Nevertheless, she faithfully carries out each new Lock mission, if only so she can go outside and see the clouds again…
Years pass.
The Fourth Great Ninja War wreaks havoc on the land, and in the aftermath Kakashi is made the Sixth Hokage. As he strives to lead well, Kakashi can't shake a dreadful feeling he has in his gut and begins to regret many past decisions in his life.
Finally, worn down by sleepless nights and exhausted by the continuous workload, Kakashi does something very unusual. He gives an impulsive-seeming order for a recon squad to sweep the Lock Village region, recently terrorized by missing nin bandits picking over the bones of war.
No one can even begin to speculate about the reasoning behind the strange command-Lock had abetted Akatsuki during the war-but they obey, and Anbu descend on the valley to check for survivors…
Chapter 1
Hanare tried the chain again half-heartedly. It was partially crushed by the fallen concrete slab, but it hadn't broken. Now she was pinned too far to reach the well.
She thought about working on the lock itself again, as she had several more unbent senbon, but she knew it was futile. "Grandfather" had designed the lock that kept her prisoner, and it was designed using ancient lore precisely to keep people like her from escaping.
Hanare leaned back against the wall. The sun was getting low, she could tell from the color of the light limning the bars of her one window. It had been at least a couple months since she'd seen anyone from her village and she mused they might all be dead.
A few bandits had found her cell but she'd run them off with some well-placed senbon and they'd been too cowardly or too lazy to come back with reinforcements.
There had been enough rations to live on until the day before yesterday, but the pantry had finally been exhausted and now that she'd lost her water supply...
The latest tremor had caused the cell to partially collapse, resulting in the block on top of the chain that manacled her ankle. At least now more of the valley vista was visible through the holes in the compromised building-the improved view was definitely worth the loss of access to water.
Hanare smiled softly at her own foolishness. That's what I'm saying now. I might sing a different tune in a couple days.
Some birds flew past outside. She tracked their graceful movements as far as she could. Then she ripped off a piece of her skirt and rebandaged her lacerated thigh. The bruises around the wound were turning intense shades of violet; it had not been a small chunk of ceiling that had hit her. Silver lining is, now I have a skylight! She looked up, but it was clear with no clouds.
Tired, Hanare slouched down into the corner of the one-room cell that was the only home she'd ever known. As the sun set, the colors became more beautiful but the walls grew colder. Hanare solved that by imagining the walls were his arms wrapped around her... comforting her, holding her, propping her up so they could watch the sun go down, together…
Hanare blinked as she felt unwelcome wetness accumulating in her eyes. No one's here, so what if you cry she told herself. The tears began to slip down her cheeks. You're probably going to die, anyway. It was a peaceful thought.
I wonder what he's doing… She was getting drowsy. The blood had pooled under her and was gross and sticky, but Hanare declared to herself that she was too lazy to care and besides, she was resolute in her decision not to leave the loving embrace of her corner.
I hope he's alright, and happy; with many good years ahead of him… Then fatigue took over and she fell into an uneasy rest; too tired even to notice the excruciating pain of her injuries.
…
Kakashi startled awake, eyes wide, cold sweat rolling down his back. His heart hammered unevenly in his chest as the vision of Rin's face faded away. The memory of her voice was insistent in his ears: "Kakashi, Kakashi, wake up! Wake up, hurry!"
Throwing off the covers, Kakashi fumbled out of bed, hands trembling. He nearly tripped on the Hokage hat that was lying on the floor, and furiously kicked it aside. He stumbled to his desk.
It had been the old dream-which he hadn't had since fighting Pain-where Rin stepped in front of his chidori and he was unable to stop it in time. Just like in real life, she whispered his name with her last breath… in some nightmares she screamed at him, too.
He grabbed a glass of water on the desk, holding it in his still-shaking hand while propping himself up with his other hand clutching the edge of the desk. This time, Rin hadn't yelled at him. But as the chidori pierced her body, her hair had changed from brown to dark green. The purple on her cheeks had faded. Her voice became stronger, prodding, insistent.
"Kakashi, hurry." It was like Rin was trying to tell him something. And for some reason, she'd done so using a face Kakashi had long tried to forget.
"Hanare," he said into the darkness. As he said the name his hand clenched violently, shattering the water glass.
He watched blood drip slowly into the pool of water and broken glass on the desk.
Those papers are ruined he thought idly, looking at the stack of documents he was supposed to review. Good. I didn't want to read them anyway.
The door opened.
"You called, Hokage sir?"
Kakashi turned in a daze. "I did?" The anbu officer looked from Kakashi to the mess on the desk.
"You did, sir-and sir, you're bleeding! I'll call Shizune-san. Are you alright?"
The anbu took a step toward Kakashi, but he waved the officer back. "It's a superficial cut. I can bandage it myself. No need to wake Shizune. I have something else for you to do."
The officer bowed. "Sir?"
"Take two squads and sweep Jomae Valley. I want to know what's left out there after those raids."
"Yes, sir."
"Missing nin you have leave to kill though I'd prefer them taken prisoner for questioning."
"What about Lock nin, sir? They sided with Akatsuki."
"I know that," Kakashi growled. The officer bowed again. "Lock civilians you may offer refuge. Lock ninja… apprehend and bring in. I want Jomae nin brought back alive-is that clear, officer?"
The anbu swallowed. He'd never heard the Rokudaime use that tone before. "Absolutely, sir. Yes, sir. It will be done as you command."
Kakashi gave a curt nod.
The officer bowed. "Thank you, sir."
"Dismissed," Kakashi grunted. There was a poof and the click of his door mysteriously swinging shut, and Kakashi was alone again.
Carefully holding one hand beneath the other to catch the blood he shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the water. The warmth stung the cuts but it was barely anything to note. He picked up a clean hand towel and patted his skin dry. Opening the medical chest he found just enough ointment left in a wrinkled tube to dress his hand. He bandaged it and went to see about the desk.
Water and glass shards and blood were everywhere. Sighing, Kakashi dragged over a wastebasket and started flinging pieces of glass into it. Then he took the entire stack of paperwork and shoved it, without so much as a glance at what it was, into the recycling chute.
That was irresponsible he thought to himself. His glee manifested itself in a slightly raised eyebrow. He pictured telling Shikamaru he'd need a new copy of all the trashed documents. The look on Shikamaru's face would be well worth it.
Moonlight slipped in through the cracks between the plain curtains. He always slept with the window partially open. The silvery light cast cold striations across his desk. Like prison bars.
He sopped up the water and blood with an old cloth napkin.
The napkin went in the laundry and Kakashi went and stood by the window, looking down at the lights of Konoha and trying to decide if he should go back to sleep or just stay awake and sleep through the next day's meetings.
Maybe I'll just read a little. He ambled over to his bookshelf and plucked out a slim volume. His thumb caressed the cover that showed a green-haired girl being chased by an amorous young man.
It wasn't a very cold night so Kakashi just lay down on his couch in what he had on-his mask, a black tank top, and loose workout pants. He flicked on the reading lamp, flipped by memory to the exact page of the scene he had in mind, and slid his free hand under the waistband of his pants.
Anbu better remember to knock before they come in this time he groused inwardly, but soon he was lost in the familiar words and all his burdens forgotten.