A/N: The fascinating characters of Naruto do not belong to me. Enjoy~ xD
Info:
Chakra - It is a moulding of two different types of energy within the body: the physical energy present in the cells of the body and the spiritual energy gained from exercise and training.
Hitai-ate - Loosely translated to "forehead protector".
Genin - The lowest shinobi rank directly above academy students. Usually assigned to teams of three accompanied by a Jounin teacher. They usually carry out the lowest ranking missions, such as D-Rank and C-Rank missions.
Chuunin - The second shinobi rank after Genin. They usually carry out C-Rank and B-Rank missions. They are also the ones usually involved in the every day duties in the system, such as administrative tasks and teaching at the academy.
Jounin - The highest shinobi rank of the regular shinobi force after Chuunin. They usually carry out A-Rank and S-Rank missions as well as the occasional Unranked mission.
ANBU - An acronym that stands for "Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai" which can be translated into "Special Assassination and Tactical Squad". ANBU members are considered the elite of elite, and often wear an animal mask and a cloak to hide their identities. They perform high level missions, such as assassinations, torture and guarding the Hokage.
ANBU Captain - The person elected to lead an ANBU squad or team. Unlike normal ANBU members (who wear black cloaks), the ANBU Captain wears a white cloak as a symbol of his/her position.
Hokage - The leader of Konoha Gakure also known as the Hidden Leaf Village.
Genjutsu - Loosely translated to "illusionary techniques". Genjutsu techniques are attacks that involve the use of illusions to manipulate the mind.
Sharingan no Kakashi - Loosely translated to "Kakashi of the Sharingan". It is one of the nicknames given to Hatake Kakashi along with his other moniker, the Copy Ninja.
Kyuubi - A reference to the Nine-Tailed Fox.
A Shift in the Air
Yuuhi Kurenai, the newly promoted Jounin, felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand in anticipation as the air shifted.
Something was going to happen.
Her day had begun normally enough. Fresh after her morning shower, and refreshed after a solid 24-hour rest period following her return from a mission, she had felt relaxed, light even, as she weaved her way down the usual roads leading to the Academy building, looking forward to see what mission they had in store for her at the Mission Assignment Desk.
A glance at the sky told her that she was just in time to catch her usual companion, who had also just returned from a mission, and sure enough, she crossed paths with Sarutobi Asuma just as she turned the final corner that led to her destination. Falling in step with him as he greeted her with a slight wave, a light conversation flowed between them – small talk about boring missions that had been nothing but stubborn mud stuck in the hair and annoying bug bites that littered the skin and the latest gossip that had slipped into the Konoha Gossip Vine as well as the usual open-mouth secrets about classified information – before they fell into their familiar comfortable silence as they neared the Mission Room.
Sliding the door open, the swell of noise envelope Kurenai as her fellow shinobi bustled about, preparing for the day. The Hokage and his attendants would not be present for an hour or so, but the room was already crowded with shinobi of various ranks. Chuunin rushed about, some with files towering in their hands and others juggling armful of scrolls. Genin teams waited sulkily for their next D-Rank, with much whining at the early morning start, accompanied by their bored or exasperated Jounin teacher. Her own fellow Jounin were divided into groups that just lounged around, whispering quietly amongst themselves as they waited, or the stragglers that slumped over the writing counter, eyes drooping sleepily, yawns barely stifled, as they attempted to finish up a report that was minimally legible and understandable.
There was nothing amiss, nothing out of ordinary, just another day in the Mission Room amidst the routine morning rush.
Until Asuma froze in his tracks at the door, Kurenai nearly slamming into the back of her companion at his sudden halt.
'Asuma?'
His eyes had narrowed, his gazed fixed on a figure at a far corner. Kurenai followed his gaze, and she just stared.
It wasn't unusual for ANBU to flit in and out of the Mission Room, especially when the Hokage was in attendance, but they were usually there and gone in a blink-and-you-would-miss-it fashion. They hardly ever lingered, unless they were reporting to the Hokage or delivering an important message that simply couldn't wait.
And, they were never here when the Hokage wasn't.
Yet, there was no mistaking the identity of the figure that stood unmoving in the corner.
Something was going to happen.
It was an ANBU member. No, it was an ANBU Captain, complete with the white cloak that pronounced his rank. The other shinobi were giving the figure a wide berth, stealing occasional glances at him before turning to each other questioningly. The Genin were much less subtle, staring at him in open awe and fascination. Asuma did neither; instead, Kurenai could read stunned recognition in brown depths, cigarette hanging so loosely from slacked-jaw lips that it threatened to fall and become a fire hazard.
'What is he doing here?'
Kurenai suspected that the hissed question was directed at no one in particular, merely a verbal expression of shock that needed no answer. She, herself, didn't recognize the figure. Oh, she recognized the mask; as a Jounin, it was an unofficial rule that they had some sort of familiarity with the ANBU identities on active duty in case of emergencies, but Asuma didn't just know the mask; he clearly knew the person behind the mask.
Which didn't surprise Kurenai at all, if she had to be entirely honest with herself.
What did surprise her was that the ANBU Captain was just standing there, an eerie white-cloaked statue with a porcelain face, swirled in black and red, at attention, entirely still and seemingly empty of presence – much like a ghost out of time. If it weren't for the reactions of the other shinobi in the room, she would've thought that he was a remnant of a Genjutsu, a spectre that haunted her mind.
What was he doing here?
Her train of thought, however, was derailed when a flare of chakra registered at the back of her mind; a surge of power that would've been intimidating if it hadn't been tampered down into a calm current that swirled gently into Kurenai's senses.
'Asuma. Kurenai-san.'
The both of them spun around, and this time, Asuma's cigarette really did fall from his lips.
It never reached the ground.
Slender pale fingers plucked the falling fire hazard out of thin air, putting out the ember before flicking it into the trashcan. Standing before them was a lean young man wearing the uniform of a Jounin. His unruly silver hair defied gravity, held up by his hitai-ate that had been tilted to cover one eye, leaving only one grey orb to stare solemnly at them. Every other feature was hidden by a mask that covered most of his face. Kurenai had a vague impression that she should know him – he looked to be around her age, and he was a Jounin – but his name and identity floated out of her grasp. There was a flicker of another image, faint and faded, like a sepia-coloured photo in a forgotten photo album, different yet the same.
Asuma, however, had no such difficulty. His eyes were so wide that his eyeballs were, quite literally, bulging out of his eye sockets, and one hand had risen halfway in the space between them, fingers opening and closing erratically. Kurenai suspected that if they had not been in a place so public, Asuma would've physically grabbed the familiar stranger. As it was, he took a single step closer; his eyes never leaving the man, who had – much to Kurenai's amusement – started shrinking away from them, his chakra flickering in uncertainty.
'Kakashi? That uniform-?'
Kakashi? Hatake Kakashi? Kurenai's own eyes widened in surprise.
Kakashi – Hatake Kakashi, the prodigy of their generation, who had been promoted to Jounin at the precocious age of 13, who had seemingly vanished from the ranks soon after, despite the rumours of his growing prowess and whispers of a Copy Ninja Sharingan no Kakashi, whose presence was heralded by a blinding flash of destructive lightning, whose crimson eye swirled with the prediction of death – shrugged, tugging self-consciously at the flak jacket. His eye remained trained on Asuma's, even as he quietly stated, 'I quit.'
The air shifted; the soft words confirming what Kurenai had long suspected.
Hatake Kakashi was ANBU; had been ANBU.
And, he had just returned to the ranks, their ranks, as a fellow Jounin.
Asuma just looked at him, studying him, and suddenly, the tension that had begun to build between the three of them melted away. Brown orbs were alight with a mirth that came entirely from within, and a careless smirk – bright and genuine – tugged at his Asuma's lips. This time, his arm didn't stop as he rested his hand on Kakashi's shoulder, gripping it firmly for a brief moment before falling away. At the gesture, Kurenai noticed the uncertainty fade from Kakashi's own figure as his shoulders slumped slightly in relief.
'You owe me a cigarette,' Asuma declared, entirely too cheerfully despite his pretense at flippancy.
Kakashi just shrugged, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as his eye curved into an eye-smile, 'Maa maa, not my fault your reflexes have become rusty.'
'Why you-!' Asuma growled, trying to cuff his friend who just slipped out of his reach, turning instead to Kurenai. Some of his previous apprehension seemed to creep back into him – his cheerful smile had become slightly stilted – as he looked at her. 'It's been a while Kurenai-san.'
It had been a while – seven years, give or take – since they had stood together to rebel against orders, pleading to be allowed to fight on the front lines of the Kyuubi attack. It was no wonder she had not recognized him at first glance; – at least, not as someone familiar that she knew, but rather, as a stranger she only knew about; there were precious few who didn't recognize the legendary Copy Ninja, after all – they had both been children then, and they had been very different people.
But, more than that, he was now a fellow Jounin – and one that Asuma was quite close to, judging by his happiness and utter relief – and Kurenai could already feel her chakra accepting the silver-haired man's, his presence relaxing her guard, her instinct branding him as "comrade".
'Drop the formalities. I'm not that much older than you,' Kurenai teased playfully, 'It's nice to see you again, Kakashi.'
A genuine warmth crinkled at the corner of a smiling eye, and just like that, Kurenai knew that he had become one of hers; hers to treasure, hers to protect.
As they made their way to a corner, waiting to collect their missions for the day – amidst wide-eyed stares as the crowd was beginning to register exactly who had just entered the room, awed whispers of 'That's Sharingan no Kakashi' or 'It's the Copy Ninja' and other murmurs echoing along those lines as well as a loud 'My Eternal Rival!' puncturing through the voices, heralding an even louder presence of green and clashing orange that had Kakashi cringing, his visible eye widening hilariously as he attempted to vanish into the wall – Kurenai felt the air shift.
The ANBU Captain was gone.