Gai sat across from Kakashi in the back booth of a dimly-lit, slightly dirty bar. He wasn't overly obnoxious, like he often was, nor was he eagerly pressing Kakashi for explanations of his troubles. Kakashi had suggested the drink together, and in Gai's years of being what he liked to term his exclusive best friend (and eternal rival, of course), he'd learned that something as small as this was Hatake Kakashi's greatest effort to reach out for assistance. It was a rare occurrence, and Gai used that thought to remind himself of the seriousness of any of these little talks.

He sipped at his sake, and watched Kakashi do the same. Kakashi, on the other hand, was staring at the wooden table between them as though he meant to light it on fire.

"Why do people yearn for companionship?" he asked suddenly, quietly, without looking up to indicate that it wasn't at all a rhetorical question. Gai didn't find this startling, nor did he make any change in his calm, unusually serious expression.

"Because a man is not an island, Kakashi. Mankind was not born into isolation. By nature, we gravitate towards others." He took another sip, giving Kakashi an opportunity to intervene. He didn't. "We cannot survive in solitude for eternity."

That seemed to make some sort of sense to Kakashi. At any rate, he made a small nod with his head and kept looking down. He wasn't chatty by nature, and he appreciated more than he ever cared to let on that Gai was able to understand what he meant to convey even without half the words he'd normally use. Kakashi didn't have to elaborate. Gai had noticed the little changes over time, and hadn't touched upon them; Kakashi would come to him if his aid was needed, and so he had.

Iruka was, by the very definition, not a person obviously equipped to be a superior shinobi. He was always, always different. It wasn't due to any special talent (though he had, of course, his own unique skills to offer) or lack thereof; it was because Iruka seemed to lack the fundamental ability to put emotions behind him and perform the necessary actions in order to successfully complete the mission. Iruka was kind. He was soft-hearted (but not a push-over), compassionate, earnest— he was emotional, and made no move to hide the fact. Gai knew from Lee's discussions once that Iruka actively sought to teach his students the benefits of being a shinobi that could control their emotions over a shinobi that didn't have any, and repeatedly voiced his disagreement on shinobi rule number twenty-five. And while Gai wasn't quite sure whether it was possible to be a superior shinobi that could possess that level of emotional and mental control, he admired Iruka's openness about the topic, and his ability to push forward with what he believed earnestly to be something of value that the future generation needed to know. Gai always respected Iruka, and Iruka respected him (loudness and all) in return.

He couldn't say with certainty that he understood fully what sparked Kakashi's interest, but he wasn't against it by a long shot. Iruka wasn't half as incapable as some seemed to believe, and while Iruka wasn't an elite jounin like they were, Gai was certain that Iruka was more than able to hold his own— for his own sake, and for the sake of those he sought to protect. So when he began to notice Kakashi's lingering staring, unusual absent-mindedness and his near constantly-furrowed brow, he took it as a positive sign.

And he knew, too, that Kakashi wouldn't quite understand what was going on with his own emotions (Kakashi was one of those elite shinobi that could only ever operate magnificently after switching his feelings off almost completely, and, as a result, never really came to terms with them regarding anything positive in his life), and that Kakashi would eventually need some guidance. So, here they were, and Kakashi was silent. Not for long, of course; he would voice his inner conflict after a few more cups of sake. And he did.

"It's an uncomfortable feeling," he said, and Gai nodded. It wasn't out of agreement, but rather to encourage Kakashi to continue. Any feeling other than supreme guilt, self-loathing or a general lack of contentedness without cause must have seemed 'uncomfortable' to Kakashi out of unfamiliarity alone. "I don't understand it." Gai remained quiet, sipping at his drink, and waited for Kakashi to continue with an air of somber understanding and patience that most would think beyond him. "With him… I feel different. Unlike myself. I don't feel normal."

"How do you feel?"

He thought for a moment that it was the wrong thing to ask, because Kakashi frowned, looking conflicted, and remained silent for three whole minutes. "Sometimes I feel as though I'd like to abandon everything and have a normal life. With him." At that, Gai raised an eyebrow. He resumed his normal expression and nodded again, and Kakashi continued: "I don't want to be… like this. I don't want to be Kakashi of the Sharingan, or Cold-Blooded Kakashi—"

"You haven't been Cold-Blooded Kakashi for years. You know that."

"Sometimes I feel as though I still am. Not often, and not during missions, but… some days the thought hits me, and I wonder if people really ever change at all."

"They do. You have."

Kakashi nodded at this. It was a little moment before he spoke again, and when he did, it was with a low, almost worried tone, as though he was fretting over the possibility that feeling this way was a sign of some illness. Gai hid a sympathetic, but half-amused smile behind his cup. "I don't want to be the Copy Ninja anymore," said Kakashi. "I just want to be Kakashi. Because… because he only sees Kakashi. He doesn't see the Copy Ninja. He sees Kakashi, and I… want to be the person he sees."

It looked as though that revelation of his feelings drained Kakashi of his energy, and he dumbly poured himself another cup of sake. Gai smiled.

"It seems like you have your answer," he said, unable to resist a chuckle. It was a pleasant change, seeing Kakashi like this. He knew Kakashi was capable of many things, but facing his inner feelings was something he'd been running from ever since he found his father dead on their living-room floor. And now, Gai could see a crack in the wall, a dent in the iron gate shielding Kakashi from that part of himself, and he thought that if Iruka was ever skilled at anything, it would be in bringing out the side of people that people didn't know they needed to embrace. Like with Naruto.

"What should I do?" asked Kakashi, and he looked up at Gai for the first time since they sat down with a concerned expression. Gai smiled his signature bright smile, and it put Kakashi at ease enough for him to try smiling back.

"You said it yourself, didn't you? You know what you want. But it won't happen by just sitting here mulling over it. You need to take action. So, go ahead and do that, and keep me updated. Just… not too much information, alright?" And he laughed loudly.