Contains some spoilers from recent chapters of the manga.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
When he didn't turn up to the ceremony held on completion of her medic training, she thought it was because of his guilt at failing her as a teacher.
Sure, Kakashi had never been much of a mentor-figure, but he'd been a constant, reassuring presence through her formative years. She'd ranted to him about Sasuke, complained to him about everything Naruto had done that annoyed her, and turned to him whenever things had gotten sticky on a mission.
So it hadn't surprised Sakura when she felt disappointment at his lack of attendance. What surprised her was that she'd expected him to turn up at all. After all, Hatake Kakashi was nothing if not averse to social obligations, but she had genuinely thought he'd at least turn up to the damn thing. Even if only to read his book, ruffle her hair as he'd done when she was twelve, and be exclaimed over when he was discovered missing after the first speech.
After what they'd been through in the war, she thought he owed her at least a brief appearance even if he thought he was a failure. She thought he was too: but it had worked out okay for two thirds of his team, which was a good enough result when one considered their profession. They may not have been on a mission together since the world righted itself, but that didn't mean that she no longer kind of owed this whole career decision on the fact that he'd mostly ignored her as a genin.
"Try not to think about it, Sakura-chan." Naruto stood beside with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Others might have asked what he meant, but their long, hard years together had granted them a kind of understanding that went beyond words; her blonde companion knew what it meant for her to have as much of Team Seven as there was left to be with her today. Sai stood a short distance away and Yamato a little further again, but it wasn't the same. Sakura appreciated their commitment in coming (Yamato and Sai being in high demand for their repair and painting skills, even two years after the war) but the day was dimmed already by the lack of her original captain and teammate.
"I'm trying, and failing," she replied with a tense laugh, putting her hand over his where it still rested comfortingly against her ceremonial uniform. She'd barely ever had to wear the traditional medic uniform before, and the bulky grey flak jacket had risen her core temperature uncomfortably, lending her face a flushed hue that clashed with her cherry hair.
One glance in the mirror hung in her open locker told her she looked positively ill. But it was time to head to the ceremonial square, where Tsunade, Shizune, the hospital staff and just about everyone who's opinion she cared about waited. Damn it, Kakashi. It would have calmed her nerves a hundredfold if there had been another heavy hand on her opposite shoulder – even if it'd messed up her carefully coifed hair.
When Kakashi didn't show up to the after party, Sakura tried not to let her disappointment turn into upset. Naruto offered to find him for her, but they both knew that if he didn't want to be found he never would be, and that was that.
Instead, she snuck a few more sips of sake than Tsunade had gracefully allowed – being that it was still just short of her 18th – and sat at the sidelines, a wallflower at her own celebration. But as much as it was in her nature to sulk, she'd gotten over her childish predilection to hold grudges; being the survivor of a war in which she'd seen a few friends die, some of whom she'd held petty grudges against, Sakura was more inclined to forgive and forget, if only to have the offender by her side again.
Still, she mused. It's a bit rich of him to not turn up once. Resisting the urge to ask Tsunade if he was actually on a last-minute, super-secret S rank mission, Sakura pushed herself off the wall and moved towards the centre of the party, where the rest of the surviving Konoha Twelve were rejoicing in the fact that most of them could now drink at these sorts of things without retribution.
Naruto spun towards her with a surprising amount of grace, at odds with the warm glow of alcohol suffusing his smile with an edge of silliness. "Come for a dance, Sakura-chan?" He beckoned invitingly, using his other hand to gesture to Ino, who beckoned her forward with considerably less grace than her teammate. Sakura supposed that being Kuruma's container did have other advantages than a constant friend-in-your-head and an abnormally large amount of chakra. Naruto had piqued her medical curiosity upon discovering that he couldn't be poisoned, and that stretched to alcohol, meaning that he got tipsy and merry and all the good parts of drinking without the hangover the next day.
(They'd decided to keep that from Tsunade, lest she wrestle the fox from him and implant him in her own body.)
But Sakura didn't feel like dancing; she just didn't feel like hanging on the fringes of her own party while her colleagues and friends celebrated her achievement around her. "Maybe later, Naruto." Her reply was offhanded, distracted, and it bled a little awareness back into her friend's blue gaze.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go see where he is?"
"You know you'd never find him."
"Doesn't stop us from trying – I could borrow Akamaru. Kiba probably wouldn't notice."
And Akamaru would probably never notice the elite ninja if he jumped over his head, judging by the state the dog and his human partner were in. Sakura kept that to herself and instead tried to smile in a more "together" fashion for her worried friend. "It's fine, really. Well, it isn't…" and here she dropped her voice: "but we can make sure he makes up for it later." Speaking louder, the kunoichi continued, "now why don't you ask Hinata for a dance?"
Chuckling at Naruto's sudden discomfiture, and pleased she'd managed to throw him off for once, she moved away from his blushing, stuttering form and, sashaying neatly past a drunken Ino, exited the pavilion they'd set up on the green.
Outside, she breathed the fresh Konoha air, scented as it always was with the freshness of the forests littering the town. They were new, baby forests, and lacked the majestic old trees that had existed before the levelling of the old village, but it was a smell that comforted her whenever she came back from a mission or whenever her feelings threatened to overwhelm her. Trees, as young as they were, didn't care for the frivolities of human interaction.
But as calming as they were, they didn't stop Sakura from straining her eyes against the light spilling from the pavilion, staring into the trees for a flash of silver hair.
When Kakashi didn't show up to her birthday party, Sakura knew it was just his way these days. They hadn't grown apart, per se (they never could): it was just that after the war they'd made little and less effort to see one another; Kakashi drifting into a kind of mission-focused stasis and Sakura pouring all her efforts into becoming a fully-fledged medic. Now she was 18, qualified, and sharing it with everyone important to her other than her silver haired team leader.
It was just that he'd been in her life less than Sasuke had recently, and the latter was dead. It worried her a little that she visited a dead friend more than a live one. It was no secret that the Godaime's apprentice and the future Hokage both visited the shallow grave behind the Uchiha compound: the most recent addition to a set of neatly placed gravestones that would never be added to again. Kakashi had been there with them when they'd fought to have him buried in the compound, but he'd never visited the spot with them.
Perhaps he did it alone. Sometimes there were a few bedraggled flowers Ino fervently denied were her doing. Sakura believed her – the Yamanaka family wouldn't allow such a sorry display – but she didn't know where they came from.
Thinking sadly of those little flowers, the pink haired kunoichi turned her attention back to her party. It seemed like everyone was drunk again, with the notable exceptions of herself, Shizune and, surprisingly, Tsunade. Even Lee looked dangerously pink; with Neji gone, Tenten didn't have the heart to keep her energetic teammate from occasionally indulging in sobbing declarations of their dead teammate's memory.
Heaving a sigh, Sakura hauled herself out of the wooden chair Yamato had made for her, presenting it with a flourish and a droll "happy birthday!" before running off on ANBU business. Even Yamato-senpai managed to come along, she thought, and he's truly busy.
Maybe Kakashi was avoiding her. Gods knew why, but that was his way. Even if the awe that had accompanied their relationship when she was twelve had disappeared, he still retained that air of mystery that made him both one of her closest friends and at the same time akin to a stranger. Even after six years of first working together, then fighting for their life together, then studiously spending less and less time together, she still didn't know or understand why the older ninja did half the things he did.
And that was about half more knowledge of his doings that most of the rest of the village had.
"Sulking about the lack of Kakashi?" Sai was as refreshingly blunt as ever as he sidled up to her, drink in hand. After Danzou's death he'd regained a lot of what Sakura liked to think was his "real" personality, a mixture of blunt commentary mixed with genuine concern and not a small amount of compassion for those he cared for. "As an extra birthday present I'll tell you a secret. It's about him," the pale young man added for clarification, seeing her perked up expression.
"Is he alright?" Sakura asked, compulsively. She'd dropped the party invitation off at Kakashi's house a few days prior, and hadn't sensed his presence, but that meant little. Quite often when he was really beaten up, he liked to hole himself up at Sai's place, claiming that the gentle artistic atmosphere helped his recovery.
Naruto and Sakura thought it likely had more to do with the fact that neither of them had clearance to enter the ANBU living quarters.
"Are you asking me if he's at my house?"
"Yes. Is he?" Sometimes you still had to spell it out with Sai, but Sakura didn't really mind.
"Well," the pale ninja answered, composure restored now he understood the question. "He's not. But, why don't you ask the Hokage-sama where he is, this time?"
Sakura was off almost before he finished speaking, eyes scanning the small crowd in her back garden to find her uncharacteristically sober shishiou. With a hasty yet heartfelt hug, she left Sai behind with a small smile on his face.
If Kakashi was on a mission, she'd forgive him this transgression – business always overrode pleasure in her book – but considering it was an important birthday, she'd have liked a little warning of his nonattendance. Unless, of course, it had been either hastily organised or was pretty hush-hush. With a determined grin, Sakura strode forward. She'd get it out of Tsunade.
Who was suddenly not where she had been a moment ago. Biting off a curse, Sakura turned back to the well-wisher who'd called out her name as she stormed past, plastering a smile on her face. It wouldn't do to be a bad host on her birthday, even if she felt like putting another hole in the turf of her garden.
Why were neither of her teachers ever there when she wanted them?
When she found out why he hadn't turned up to her birthday, Sakura forgave Kakashi immediately, and wholeheartedly. But she still couldn't find him.
In the two months since her birthday, she'd discovered that he was on a very dangerous mission, infiltrating the heart of the remnants of the Sound village. It was kept under such lock and key that Sakura thought Tsunade was going to punch Sai through the Tower floor once she'd discovered he'd as good as let it slip.
Sai had very high security clearance, the Hokage had lectured, but it wasn't for Sakura to abuse like that. At eighteen, she was an adult officially as well as emotionally, and she'd be held accountable for when she did things like this. But for all her posturing, even Tsunade couldn't give in to Sakura's artfully arranged innocent countenance, and proceeded to fill her in on as much detail as she needed.
So when Sakura didn't receive a response to her increasingly frantic knocking on his door the day Kakashi was due back, she did the most mature and level headed thing possible in the situation. She kicked down his door.
Stepping delicately around the debris and covering her mouth against the powdered wood drifting in the air, the young woman made a mental note to beg a favour from Yamato and get the door fixed. Inside, Kakashi's apartment was the same as ever; bachelorly, distinctively neat, and with only a few personal effects scattered around.
It might have fooled most other visitors, but it didn't fool Sakura. Kakashi had been here, and was gone again. He'd left a spoon out on the counter, which on closer inspection was covered in the remains of a hastily-downed liquid soldier pill. Not the kind of thing that was necessary in one's home village, unless they thought they'd have to leave again in a hurry, or were in danger.
For the first, Sakura didn't believe he'd be on time for any mission debriefing, no matter how classified the case. For the second, Kakashi wouldn't be in any real danger in Konoha; a place where he regularly – if accidentally – inspired awe, fear and not a little admiration in the general ninja and civilian populaces. Any danger he perceived would be just that: perceived danger.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Sakura felt a few ridiculous tears threaten to spill forth from her rapidly brimming eyes. She'd thought they were over any awkwardness over what had happened last year, but that clearly wasn't the case.
It was farfetched to say the least, but… did he think she was something, someone, who he had to run from? Did he actually still think she harboured that fleeting little fancy she'd had for him?
Sure, she'd been awkward about it, but it was last year, and his complete lack of acceptance had ensured it had died a death, right there on the streets of Konoha as it rebuilt around them. And sure, a traitorous voice whispered, everyone you've ever shown the slightest bit of interest in has run away.
Leaning heavily against the immaculate counter in his tiny kitchen, Sakura knuckled her eyes, dashing the tears against her hands before they spilled forth. She'd been cautious around the older ninja for a few months after the fact, but if nothing she'd learned from chasing after Sasuke the benefits of gracefully accepting defeat in these matters. She hadn't even gone so far as to say anything; it was just that before it all happened, Sakura and Kakashi had shared the same kind of unspoken means of communication that she still had with Naruto. You didn't get to survive numerous near-fatal encounters without developing some kind of sixth sense about what your teammates were thinking.
Unfortunately that extended to correct interpretations of blushes, and unwillingness to touch someone casually, and all the other things that generally accompanied the sort of teenage crushes she had thought she was well and truly over.
Leaning her head back until her hair tickled the top of the counter, Sakura squeezed her eyes shut, awkwardly running her memory through that rainy day last year while the dust settled in the entranceway and the sounds of the village outside filtered through.
When Kakashi didn't show up at the designated meeting point, Sakura thought he'd probably just been roped into a more pressing building project. As the man who'd mastered over a thousand jutsu, he was in high demand – because he was a genius, even without the Sharingan, and he'd memorised each and every one of them.
Even if he couldn't spring buildings out of the earth like Yamato, or instantly paint a house a merry new colour like Sai, Kakashi had his fair share of useful jutsu and that meant he'd often been called into building projects that the rest of them couldn't emulate or take part in.
Still, Sakura waited for him for an hour before deciding she'd better move on. This was supposed to be a two man job, but with her strength, perseverance and secret anger at having the chance to spend some time with him taken away from her, the young kunoichi was sure she'd manage it alone just fine.
In a foul mood which had everything to do with her aloneness and the rain, and nothing to do with the actual task at hand, Sakura looked down at the simple mission scroll.
C Rank – Clear the debris from around former training ground 6, 7 and 8. Estimated completion time: two hours.
With a sigh, she moved some heavy, sodden pink hair out of her eyes and leapt through the designated "ninja highway" that was being remade throughout the village.
She'd aimed for one hour, completed it easily, and spent the next hour reminiscing in Team Seven's old training ground, also called 7. That was where she found Kakashi.
"Hi!" She said brightly, pleased to see him. Her little crush on him, which had warmed her on their previous interactions for the past few months, flared comfortably to life in her chest. While she would probably never act on it, it was nice to feel something like that for someone again, as shallow as she knew it was. It was probably just a hangover from the amount of times they had saved each other's lives, and all they'd been through together the previous few years, but still. It was hers and she nurtured it secretly.
He looked up from his book – which must have been waterproofed – and didn't seem particularly pleased to see her in return. Her mouth went dry, and not in the pleasantly embarrassed way it usually did. His gaze was downright cold.
"Yo," he said quietly.
Sensing his bad mood, Sakura simply flopped herself down onto the dry patch of ground beside him. He'd used an interesting, if needlessly complex, fire jutsu to carefully heat the air and ground around him, creating a pleasant warm bubble of sorts against the miserable weather.
"Difficult building task?" She asked, dimming the wattage of her smile just a little. He seemed… off. And he was gradually shifting away from her, taking the effect of his jutsu with him. She felt the edge of one shoulder get wet again.
"Are you alright?" His unwillingness to initiate conversation didn't usually persist into the conversation itself, and he was very clearly reluctant to talk to her. She couldn't figure out why, but an anxious thought began creeping into her consciousness. Surely he hadn't…
"I'm fine, Sakura." His body language said otherwise, and he snapped his book shut before standing up with an abruptness that wrenched his jutsu away from her. Looking up at him, the rain once more streaming through her pink hair and onto her shoulders, Sakura knew. Her creeping worry immediately solidified into her worst nightmare: that he'd found out about how she felt about him.
And he was taking it the worst way possible. He actually seemed offended – which was an overreaction – but she wasn't surprised at his behaviour. He was older than her, had been her teacher, and had been through so much with her that he was genuinely pained at what she was feeling for him, in its inappropriateness and unwantedness.
Hastily scrambling to her feet, Sakura had barely a moment to react before he tipped his head to her and disappeared in a flurry of leaves. Nothing had been said, but it didn't need to be. He was removing himself from the situation, as was Kakashi's way, in order that she didn't get to say anything, didn't get to jeopardise their relationship more than he felt she already had.
Reading his chakra signature, she braced herself and teleported to the same place as he had; a cobbled street that was forming close to her old neighbourhood.
He was still there.
"Was this where you were working today?" She asked quietly, standing a few paces behind him. The street was deserted, nothing having being built yet that was of any use. There was nothing but the even cobblestones and a few carefully-laid foundations to indicate that this was anything other than a clearing in the woods that were still growing around them.
"No." His reply was almost rude in its shortness, but he hadn't teleported away yet, so she persisted.
Feeling like a fool, she asked, "if you weren't working elsewhere, why didn't you come to the mission with me then?"
"You could handle it yourself."
True, but he would normally have said so and saved her the wait. While Kakashi was always late, it wasn't in a malicious way and if he knew he wasn't going to turn up he'd normally say something.
No, that wasn't it. He'd deliberately avoided her, and now she knew why. He'd somehow found out about the burgeoning feelings she'd been experiencing over the past few months: the way her mouth would go dry every time he appeared in a room; the way she found it difficult to touch him anymore, casually or otherwise, even while healing him; the way she allowed her chakra to linger longer than was strictly necessary in his body while she was healing him. It was all innocuous, silly things.
But he was drawing a line under that, telling her with telling her anything at all that he didn't want this to happen, that he was rejecting her feelings.
It didn't feel anywhere near as bad as it had with Sasuke; after all, she'd experienced this rejection before, and besides, her feelings for Kakashi were little more than fancy mixed with genuine care for a friend, mixed with an appreciation of his physical form.
It still didn't feel good to be told, without anything needing to be said, that was she was feeling was unwelcomed. Her only consolation (and it was thin, because she wasn't the nasty type) was that knowing her history would make this in some small way hard for Kakashi to do to her.
"I see." Was all she said, but it wasn't just in answer to his explanation. It was an acceptance of what he'd wordlessly told her – that he didn't want her feelings, that they made him uncomfortable – and he finally turned round, facing her in the rainy Konoha street.
"Good," he mumbled, creasing his eyes at her in his very best fake smile. "Sorry."
She didn't respond. It wasn't good at all, and Sakura didn't make a move to follow him as he strode past her, hesitating just slightly before ruffling her hair as he'd done when she was a child.
Standing in the cold, empty street, Sakura thought that that innocent touch was the kindest way that Kakashi could think of to show her that he still thought of her as the child she had been.
It was a long time before she dragged herself away to the more populous parts of the village, the heavy droplets of rain a camouflage for the hot tears streaking down her cheeks.
When she was interrupted from her reminiscing, it wasn't by Kakashi, and Sakura was only partially glad that he hadn't discovered her crying in his kitchen after bashing down his door.
"Whoa, what's going on here?" The startled voice of Naruto broke her out of her reverie, and Sakura jumped a little, surprised to find her fists pressed squarely in her eyes and covered in still-coming tears.
"What on earth did Kakashi do to you this time, Sakura-chan?" Sai answered, stepping gingerly past the wreckage that had been the older ninja's front door. With the cabinet between her and the boys, they couldn't see her face just yet, and she called back lightly,
"Oh you know, the usual. Not taking care of his health, being hard to find, all of that." Her voice didn't wobble and for that she was glad, but it didn't fool her blonde friend, who'd rounded the cabinet, taken one look at her reddened eyes and clenched fists, and enveloped her in a bear hug.
"At least we know he's back okay, hmm?" Naruto said soothingly, and Sakura relaxed, her arms coming up to rest easily around his waist as she buried her face in his shoulder. "Hey, you better not leave anything disgusting on my shoulder, Sakura-chan. The last time you cried on me, man, I had to throw my jacket out."
Bringing her face up indignantly, she was caught with a quick peck to her forehead by the grinning ninja – when had he got quite that taller than her? – and his easy smile drew a watery one forth from her.
"Come on," Sai said, slipping an arm through Naruto's to rest on her shoulder. "I can't smell blood, so he can't be injured. And that's a small dose of soldier fluid, so he's at worst tired and at best determined to run away from us."
Ah, Sakura thought, sometimes I wish my friends weren't the type to smell blood and tears and god knows what else. Her civilian family would probably throw a fit if they knew she wasn't perturbed in the least that Sai assessed Kakashi's wellbeing by dosages and the lack of a bloody smell, but the simple pronouncement of it made her laugh a little. A laugh that turned into a shriek in earnest when she felt Naruto's grip around her tighten, and him swing her into the air.
They knew exactly how to cheer her up, and Sakura smiled truthfully when her friend put her down, reaching to grasp each of their hands in one of hers. She was being silly; even if Kakashi decided he never wanted to speak to her again (for whatever reason) her teammates would never let it happen.
Quenching her worry until she at least discovered why the stupid older ninja was determined to avoid her company, she squeezed the boys' hands firmly, eliciting a small gasp from each of them and a sideways glance from Naruto.
"All right," Sakura said, pulling them forward into the living room, where she spared a small, guilty peek towards the wreckage of the door. "Who wants to make a bet?"
"Yeah?" Both boys chorused their approval. If there was something everyone who'd ever been a part of Team Seven had enjoyed, it was bets. Especially if it involved Kakashi.
"Who wants to see who can find him first?" Sakura chirped. "Any method is acceptable, and the loser buys lunch. The only condition is this: if I'm not first to find him, one of you will have to give him a punch from me."
"I couldn't do that, Sakura, I'd kill him."
Sakura shoved her shoulder against Sai, still holding his hand, and he rocked a little on his heels. Unless she put chakra into it, he was as unmoveable as a rock. "Well, give him one in my honour then. You know what I mean." She paused. "Are we on?"
"Are you kidding?" Naruto crowed. "It's been ages since you've bought me lunch!"
Laughing, Sakura let go of their hands, watching fondly as both ninja raced out the open doorway. Stepping more sedately after them, Sakura took a moment to prop Kakashi's broken door back in its proper place, standing back to assess her handiwork. Thinking back to Tsunade's earlier warning about being 18, and thus now accountable for things like this, Sakura hesitated for another moment before pulling the sheaf of medic's prescription notes she kept in her pouch. Digging around for a pen, she finally found it and scribbled a hasty note, leaving it pinned to his door with a dot of chakra that mimicked the emerald diamond on her forehead.
'Kakashi' it read. 'Not sorry for the door – that's for making me worry. Come see me later and I'll give you something for the aftereffects of the soldier liquid. Yours, Sakura.'
Finishing it off with the little doodle of a cherry blossom she sometimes made on favoured patients' notes, Sakura stepped back, sure in the knowledge that not only would one of the boys would be buying her lunch very soon, she'd also get to throw a well-deserved punch to her exasperating, frustrating, number three favourite-person-in-the-world, team leader and friend.
So, this is my first fanfiction in about five years. I write for a living these days (non-creatively) and I hope it shows!
I'd love to continue this if people like it. Let me know your thoughts in the comments, please.